~Part One~

A thin sliver of moon had just risen above the tops of the trees as Spike slipped quietly from the footpath and into the leafy cover of the forest. He swiftly wove his way farther into the dense foliage; with luck, he hadn't overshot the clearing he was searching for. Luck. Ha. Since when did the concept of luck have anything to do with Sunnydale? He veered to the left, scanning the darkness for a familiar landmark. He almost panicked until he recognized the silhouette of a squat cedar stump and moved quickly towards it. Finally things were going right for him; finally he would get his due.

"Bloody army bastards," he muttered under his breath. They'd been tracking him for the better part of an hour and he'd been hard pressed to keep more than a couple of steps ahead of them. Normally he would have laughed at the idea of humans chasing him, right before ripping their heads off in a moment of glorious, ecstatic carnage. Ah, good times. One time he and Dru had been searching for Angelus in Romania. Dru had snagged a toddler from one of the gypsy camps and caused quite a stir. A mob had chased them to an abandoned cabin and then the blood did flow. Dru had drained three by the time he.But this damn chip had changed that, had changed everything.

Spike pushed through a spray of pine boughs to step into the clearing he'd been seeking, just as the sudden noises of ragged breathing and crashing footsteps told him that the commandos had finally caught him. He turned to face his pursuers with his hands in the air. "So, the hounds catch their quarry?" he sneered. "That how you ripe ginks get your jollies these days, harassing innocent people?

Six men in olive fatigues sighted him with their weapons. One spoke. "You've had your fun Hostile 17, now you're going to come alone peaceably."

"Hmn. Well I'm not exactly a peaceable kind fellow really. I'm more a fan of the bloody massacre camp myself.

"I'm sure we can arrange that." The soldier adjusted his grip on his weapon. His companions mirrored his nervousness. Their bullets would definitely slow the creature down, but sometimes the hostiles could be unpredictable and this one had proven it's deviousness in the past.

"Oh come on now. It takes six strapping bucks like yourselves to take down little old me?" Spike drawled with exaggerated helplessness. "What's the post show entertainment, you lads go toss each other off?"

"Shut up Hostile 17," a soldier ground out, eyeing the vampire warily. "Just come along, you're outnumbered here."

Spike's gaze swung in an arc behind the group standing in front of him. Satisfaction touched his features as an assortment of vampires and demons stepped out of the concealment of the foliage, their numbers easily tripling that of the commandos. He returned his gaze to the soldiers. "Well I never was very good at math, " he admitted with a mock frown pulling down the corners of his mouth. "But I think that twenty is more than six. It could just be me?"

"It's a trap!"

Spike's lips curled, exposing gleaming canines." At the risk of being the king of obvious-Duh! Do you wankers honestly think you could have caught me if I didn't want you too?

The commanding officer's furtive gaze belied his mental calculations of how many HST's he could incapacitate before being killed. "So what game are we playing?"

Spike addressed him with an expression of extreme condescendence, "It's more of a plan really. You might call it a bit of a cliché, but what can I say, I'm a fan of the classics. I'm going to."

  "Adjustment disorders represent a group of diagnostic categories that 
              describe a maladaptive reaction to a clearly identifiable stressor event
  or events. The response is considered maladaptive because of noted 
  Impairment in social, academic or."

Willow clicked off the hand held recorder in disgust. She'd listened to the tape of professor Walsh's lecture from this afternoon three times, but it might as well have been in Fyarl because she couldn't recall any of it no matter how hard she tried to concentrate.

She sighed and slipped the machine back into her backpack. "You've got to snap out of it Willow," she muttered out loud. "Or you'll end up at thirty seven working side by side with Xander in the drive through window and wearing a paper hat." That was bitchy. Now you're not only a depressing loser, you're also a back stabbing harpy woman. Xander has been nothing but supportive since Oz left.if you don't count the eye rolling and head shaking he directs at Buffy behind your back.oops, add paranoid too.

Everything had been setting off her fragile emotions in the last few weeks. She'd rushed out of the cafeteria in tears yesterday because a group of students at the next table had been reviewing the mating habits of dingoes for an upcoming biology quiz. As she'd stood up, Anya had made some catty remark-big surprise. Xander had made a move to follow her, but Buffy's hand on his arm stopped him and a shake of her head told him to give it some time. Willow was starting to question her own sanity, how much time did she need? How long before she could even speak Oz's name without that telltale quiver in her voice?

She threw her head back and inhaled slowly, taking the night air deep into her lungs. A sliver of moon hung in the sky and she smiled at the sight. It would be safe for her and Oz to..she sighed dejectedly and veered off the path, hoping to put some physical distance between herself and her friends.   "They're tired of seeing you cry," she scolded herself as tears began to form again.

"I'm going to take you blokes apart one piece at a time and Fed Ex them back to your boss, see how long it takes to get some attention around here," Spike warned with satisfaction. He only got blank looks back from his intended victims.

He exhaled dramatically and continued, "If they want to see you safe, or alive, or.ever again, they'll take this bloody chip out of my head. Pay attention to the subtitles people."

The demon next to Spike snapped its head to the right, testing the breeze with moist snuffling noises. "Another human," it hissed. A rustling in the bushes confirmed its suspicion.

What a nasty little bugger But rather than voice his disgust, Spike sighed at the possible interruption to what was until now, a brilliantly flowing plan.

"You're either brainless, or packing a mighty big pair of stones," Spike challenged.
 

~Part Two~

Willow wandered aimlessly, her mind replaying images of Oz and Veruca's naked bodies twined together and of the empty dorm room he had left behind. Who would ever have thought that Oz, her first love, would ever abandon her not once but twice?

Life was beginning to follow a theme. First, Xander chose Cordelia over her, Angel walked out on Buffy, and Oz dumped her to 'find himself'. She was coming to the conclusion that men were just.bad.

She looked back up at the new crescent moon in the sky and wished aloud, "Couldn't I just find someone who will love me forever?"

Unfortunately, she wasn't looking were she was going, stumbled into a prickly sticker bush and spent several minutes extricating herself from it's hold on her shirt. "Stupid bush," she grumbled.

Having overcome her oppressor, she brushed herself off and instinctively looked around, hoping no one had witnessed her embarrassment. She was alone. Ok, now add idiot to the list.

From about twelve feet to her left, a voice drifted to her." You're either brainless of packing a mighty big pair of stones."

Spike? Well, she could agree with at least on of those assessments. She weighed the options of going to him or leaving. She wasn't really in the mood to hear his arguments on tattooing vs micro chipping in ensuring that your mongrel was returned if he wandered off. Oh what the hell. He must have heard her. She headed off in the direction of his voice.

Willow strolled into the clearing, stopping at the sight that greeted her. She noticed Spike first, then the throng of demons all around. "Ok, this is just the opposite of good timing."

"Willow!"

"Riley?" Willow called back, turning to face the knot of men.

"Oh perfect. Now it's just like a great big fucking reunion, isn't it." Spike sighed loudly, rolled his eyes upwards and gestured dramatically to the heavens. "Someone up there doesn't like me, right, because I must be cursed."

"Not yet, but if you have an orb of Thesela, I'll see what I can do," Willow offered, overcoming her initial shock at the scene she'd come upon.

"Keep your wonky magic to yourself teen witch," Spike warned, pointing a finger at her. "A perfectly good plan has been ruined_ I blame you."
"A perfectly good plan, huh. What? Were you going to move into their basement and make them watch Passions, or regale them with tales of the good old days when Dru wasn't a big 'ho?" She scrunched her face up and laughed. "Oooo, diabolically sinister."

Spike's face hardened. Bitch and he gestured to a big, scaly demon standing by Riley. "Change in plans. The witch is mine," he growled. "Kill the rest, I don't care."

He waved his hand disinterestedly in Riley's direction. And the Teutonic lad there, he can be my messenger."

Riley stepped forward, blustering, "There's no way I'm going to let you hurt Willow."

The vampire moved so fast, no one really saw him until it was too late, never saw his arm snake out to hook the red head and pull her to him until she was already pressed against his body.

"You gonna stop me, you little poofter?" Spike asked carefully, watching Riley's reaction. "You wanna be a hero?"

"No Riley!" Willow begged. She didn't want to see anyone get hurt and she was fairly certain it was a bluff. After all, he was chipped. He couldn't hurt her, right?

The feel of the vampire's hard, unmoving chest and restraining arm brought unwitting memories of Oz flitting through the corners of her mind; waking up to see him smiling down at her, touching his lips sweetly to her own, his weight pressing her back against the mattress as her filled her, loved her. These images plus the physical contact she hadn't felt in so long brought a flush of wetness and a hardening of her nipples. A thousand memories of love were betrayed in an instant. The sudden fear that she was depraved for feeling lust in response to a killer's touch made her panic and fight blindly against her captor

"Easy Red."  The idea of knocking her unconscious crept through his thoughts, but the scream of pain that would accompany that action was not the road he cared to travel at this time. He could hold her, restrain her, but not violently subdue her. If the commandos figured that out, he was lost.

Unfortunately, her writhing body was getting him hard; it had been so long since he'd held a woman. Harmony didn't count, she was a twit and he'd mercifully blocked her out of his mind. But this little red head, this _human, was taking him somewhere that he'd sorely missed recently.

In reality, he was thinking of another, remembering a pale shoulder covered in white gauze, a raven tendril clinging to a delicate collar bone, and a small hand smoothing his cheek, turning him to face her. The previously suppressed memories sent an ache piercing through his heart, followed by rage.   This was not the first time he'd been consumed by rage at those who had taken everything from him.

Goddamn everyone. Goddamn these sodding army bastards for taking away his ability to kill, to feed, goddamn Angelus for stealing his Black Madonna's affections and goddamn Willow for not restoring Angel's soul earlier, before he'd made that pact with the slayer that had cost him Dru.

Red hair, not the raven locks he longed for and would probably never see again, were what whipped around his face. That realization urged him to crush the life out of the human struggling against him in retaliation for her part in that loss. But he couldn't even do that. Shit. She was going to pay for this.

Even this anger couldn't insulate him from the fact that her writhing body was getting him hard, pushing him nearly past rational thought. Even as his hand itched to reach out and squeeze the life from her, the feel of her ass grinding against his pelvis was making him swell and seek her warmth. While the staccato rhythm of her heart's frantic pounding invaded his brain, he tried to close his eyes against it, but that only intensified his reaction. She had to feel it?

Unless he regained control of this situation, he was going to be kissing a taser blast and staring up at the white ceiling of an initiative cell again. He winced slightly as she crashed into him again. He needed to quiet this witch now, in the only way he could think of.

"Oh yeah Red.please keep doing that.it feels so good," he growled seductively into her ear.

She didn't need any further proof of the truth of that statement; she could feel his cock straining behind her. She froze, her face flaming with color as she realized that every human and creature assembled was staring at the struggling couple with rapt attention.

Riley stepped forward, but was immediately checked by a demon to his right, who blocked his path. "Let her go, you don't have to take her, take me instead."

Spike stared at the soldier for several seconds as if contemplating his request. "No, I've always had a thing for Red here, we've got unfinished business."

"Just let her go, that chip in her head's not going to let you do anything you lousy piece of shit," Riley lashed out in frustration.

Fuck you, you slayer whipped pussy. You're the reason I can't do anything. Did you help hold me down while they put this chip in? What a self righteous, puffed up little cock."Ya think?" Spike snarled. His hand came up and gently squeezed Willow's throat, just enough to make her eyes widen nervously. A surprised squeak escaped her lips.

The tension from the boy was palatable and Spike suppressed a crow of satisfaction. "I don't seem to have any problem doing this," he said as his hand trailed down Willow's neck and proceeded to unbutton the top button of her shirt, then another and another until the material fell aside to reveal her breasts.

"No bra Willow? You're a naughty little chit aren't you? All of these army ginks are probably just as hard as I am right now. You wanna share this lad with the slayer? I wonder if he'd say no right now?"

Riley made a run towards the couple and was backhanded with such force; it knocked him back several feet, where he collided with the other men.

Spike smiled lecherously, enjoying the shocked expressions on the faces of every man there. He cupped one of her breasts in his hand, lazily rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger until it contracted in protest. Then, he was happy just to cradle it in his palm like an offering to his audience and as a reminder of who was pulling the strings around here.

Spike felt the slayer's best friend tense in protest of his treatment of her and warned," Be still luv or I'll let you pick one of these lads to watch get ripped apart."

She took the hint and became still again.

The blonde vampire addressed Riley condescendingly, "Now, you're going to run along like a good boy and tell someone who can actually do something, that I'll return the delectable Willow when this bloody chip gets taken out of my head. And no tricks now."

The bullish set to his features suggested that the last thing Riley wanted to do was leave. "Or you'll what, kill her?" He goaded.

Spike's hand came up to clasp a fistful of red hair, pulling Willow's head back to expose the white length of her neck. Soft fiery strands clung around his wrist. His face transformed, a harsh reminder of the demon who still dwelled inside of him. His tongue flicked out and traced a path against that pale stretch of skin to just below her ear. He could hear her blood pumping, singing to him to drink and he wanted to heed its call, but was afraid of the blinding pain that would result. His most basic nature was denied him.

Carefully, cautious of the fine line between the need for her blood and the fear of his skull splitting in half, he took a small nip of skin-just delicate enough not to break the skin. The kind of kiss lovers might give under a star filled sky, but this was war and they weren't lovers.

"Don't worry, I'll think of something." He gave a signal to the demon mob and pulled Willow with him. The sound of bones crunching followed them as the demons descended on the commandos.
 

~Part Three~

Willow paced restlessly near the back of a large cage. She'd been taken to some underground cave; probably some abandoned section of the initiative and hadn't seen Spike since he'd deposited her there. Is this what Oz had felt like every full moon?

Various disgusting looking demons milled about and she was glad that the bars separated her from them, even though they seemed to be ignoring her for the most part. A knot of three vampires across the room was another story though.

One separated himself from the group and made his way purposefully to Willow's prison. She took an involuntary step back until the rear wall of bars pressed into her from behind.

He stared pointedly at her, saying nothing. <Apparently vampires don't believe in long-term food storage. > He was definitely hostile looking.

"Nice, uh." Willow looked around at the cave's dismal interior, mentally grasping for an appropriate description, ".hole_you_have_here."

"Shut up human!" He snapped. "This was a stupid plan. We're only going to draw attention and a whole lot of firepower. I think instead, I'll just suck your heart out through your neck-screw Spike."

"Hmn, that really wasn't part of the plan," spike's voice snarked from behind the other vampire. "And in fact-ick-you've just given me a really disturbing mental picture. Besides, you're not my type."

The vampire spun around, earlier bravado rapidly disappearing. "I was just saying that she's only going to bring trouble. You ought to just feed now and be rid of her before those army guys come crawling around."

With a snarl, Spike's hand shot out, a powerful claw squeezing mercilessly around the interlopers throat. A haze of red clouded his mind, smothering every rational thought until he was drowning in a sea of rage. In the midst of this fog came the memories, a staccato barrage of images pulsing behind his eyelids.

~~~~~~~

.Knocked on his arse, unable to move a muscle.
 

<What the fuck, I'll rip every one of you to pieces, until there's nothing left but a river of blood>
 
 

.Masked figures encircling him, blocking out the night sky.

<You've waded deep into it this time; you have no bloody, fucking idea who you're dealing with>

.Blinding overhead light and the smell of something.burning?

<What the hell is going on, where am I? >

.And oh god, the pain.always .the..Pain.and the prayers that he would die or pass out again before he cried out and gave these bastards the satisfaction of knowing they were breaking him.
 

~~~~~~~
 
 

Although he'd escaped that humiliation, they'd visited a worse one on him.  The body was weak where torture was concerned, and even a vampire had his limits. But they hadn't stopped with just breaking his body, they'd taken everything and left him broken and pathetic, unable to feed, ridiculed and pitied by humans..<Shit>

Spike shook his head and focused once more on the vamp whose throat he was crushing, the creature would have been dead right now if it were human.

All movement and noise had ceased, every eye turned to the scene unfolding. Weakened, outcast, reviled by human and demon alike, or reclaim the hatred and violence that had made man and creature tremble for a century or more? Some choice.

His face transformed, shifting into the nightmare planes that were enough to rip screams of terror and devastation from his victims. Icily, he addressed the assembled audience," I promised you a fucking war and I will give it to you, with the bodies of our enemies strewn broken and bleeding straight to the gates of hell." Spike shoved the vampire away and it stumbled, falling a few feet away. Wisely, it resisted the urge to run and crouched silently, drawing no further wrath.

William the Bloody slowly, patiently explained, " What with the chips and the shocking and the torture, we have to be smart, right? So we'll stick with the plan-is everyone in agreement?" <Worthless stupid gits, they were hopeless without someone kicking their asses every second>.

Murmurs of approval circled the room. The initiative had made many enemies among the demon ranks. Plus, there were those who just wanted to kill humans and this was the most likely avenue toward that end.

Spike's earlier victim rose. "Sure Spike, I was just kidding," he laughed nervously.

William's lips curled slightly as he reached into the pocket of his duster and extracted a sharpened length of wood. It left his grasp straight and true, to find its target and was the last thing to hit the floor as the other vampire's body crumbled to dust around it. "Actually, I wasn't talking to you."

He didn't hesitate a second, but continued," The human is mine. If anyone so much as touches her, I will gut them and hang their entrails for the crows to feed on-are_we_clear?"

<Ok, maybe the chip doesn't make him less scary> Willow blinked at the pile of dust on the floor and tried to swallow a sudden lump in her throat. She could feel the waves of anger he unconsciously projected and shivered. <He can't kill me, -wouldn't, since I'm the pawn in his newest game, but that doesn't make him incapable of violence. >

Spike turned to see her cowering there and could smell her fear. He inhaled deeply, savoring its essence. That act made her cringe slightly, which made his cock tighten. <Leave it to Willow to give you back what the initiative had taken away-power.>

Opening the door of the cage, he stretched his hand outward, commanding softly, "Come to me Willow."

"Umm.no." Willow shook her head negatively, unable to look away from the game face he still wore.

"Poor Willow," he mocked gently. "Have I scared you?"

"No," she lied.

<Brave little Willow. > He concentrated and willed his features to melt into their human countenance. "You know I can't hurt you," he sing- songed teasingly, not sounding very sincere at all.

He really was a handsome devil, dark t-shirt and jeans, black leather duster that contrasted with his platinum blonde hair. He was the only guy she knew besides Oz who wore fingernail polish. Of course Spike would wear black polish.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black tipped nails looked so stark against the pale flesh of her breast.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 

She felt her cheeks flush. <Where the hell had that come from, have you lost your mind? >

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black tipped fingers that slid slowly across her breast, leaving a quivering trail of gooseflesh in their wake. Reaching her pink nipple and rubbing it until it contracted in protest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She felt the flush move down to her chest. <Oh God Rosenberg, get a hold of yourself. It's Spike. You_are_insane. > She moaned silently, and then quickly lowered her eyes.

His jaw tightened at the flush of desire he saw before she demurely lowered her eyes. <Willow, with desire, directed at.you? >

"Unless.you want me to?" He queried huskily.

She didn't answer, couldn't. <Just breathe, just breathe, just breathe, just breathe. >

"Chicken.Oh well.  My plan doesn't involve you standing out here as a target for every blighter that's hungry or has an axe to grind. Let's go."

"Where?"

"To my quarters, where I'll be able to." he raised an eyebrow lecherously, ".keep an eye on you."

"Funny."
 

~Part Four~

Well it was a little better than a cage. They entered a large room, the floor was littered with clothes, cd's, things you wouldn't expect a vampire to care about.

"You need a maid."

"Had one once, but I ate her."

She turned briefly to him, rolling her eyes disapprovingly.

He shrugged out of his duster and tossed on the floor. Laughing softly, he shut the door behind him and leaned against it, watching her walk about the room.

"So how does this work?" Willow asked.

He crossed his arms over his chest, but remained leaning against the doorframe. "You're my wild card, they see my hostage and raise me a chipectomy."

"And you think they'll care enough about what happens to me, that they'll agree to whatever you say? Hello. They're a secret military organization. They're ruthless. I don't think I'll be much of an inspiration for them."

He smiled, cocking his head to the side. "Well luv, you're more of an enticement for the slayer."

"Huh?"

"Little Buff might be able to pull some clout, especially with her little soldier boy. If she makes enough of a noise, they may do it to shut her up. If not, she can get her hands on some of Maggie Walsh's notes. I figure she and Giles can cook up something in a pinch."

"What if they think it's an empty threat, that you can't do anything with that chipey thing in your head? That you can't hurt me?"

"I don't have to hurt you, there's plenty here who would love to do it for me. I'll make sure the slayer knows that. I think she'd do just about anything to protect you."

Her face fell. He was right. Buffy would do anything, including storming this place in order to rescue her and take Spike out. The odds were against her; there were too many demons and vampires out there to fight alone. She'd probably enlist the help of Riley and the initiative, but either scenario was going to end in a blood bath.

"Why do you want it out so badly? You could change, you could become."

"What? A tame dog.a slayerette?" he spat. "I'm not Angel, I don't have a soul and I have no desire to atone for my past sins. I gave bloody death to everyone I met, and reveled in it."

His lean form sprang from the doorframe and he sidled towards her slowly. "I can still feel it you know," he mused dreamily, "burning inside of me, with no way out, until all I can do is scream in pain."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 

He grasped her arm, pushing her down to the floor. Willow gasped as he covered her body with his and sank his fangs into her tender neck. Now you're going to scream in pain Bitch.
 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike blinked, pushing the thought back into the depths of his mind to savor later and to keep his skull from splitting open. The final image of her lying on the floor in pools of her own blood made him smile again.

Willow droned on, oblivious to her companion's mental sidetrack. "You've been kind of nice to have around. You're funny and smart. You've been an unofficial part of the Scooby gang. It's not what you're used to, but you could adjust."

He laughed and nearly choked before he continued sarcastically, "Oh Willow, you're so full of goodness. You could never understand what it feels like to decide if someone lives or dies, that feeling of absolute power-life or death."

"See, there you go, always trying to be the Big Bad. You're not all blood and...hate," she finished lamely, searching for the words. "You have a soft side, you loved Dru."

His face hardened, obviously stung by the reminder. He wasn't going to let her get away with that. After all, she was partially responsible for his current predicament.

"Oz had that urge for the kill in him, that animal instinct. He knew he couldn't reconcile that with you." The hurt look on her face at the reminder proved that he'd hit a nerve and he pressed onward. "You can never understand that, because it's not inside you, it's not a part of you." His hand reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear as he continued softly, "That's why he left you. At least Dru and I could share that."

Stung, she sat down on the bed. "Not enough to stay with you," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

He'd still retained his killer instinct and now couldn't even carry through on it. Not enough to stay with you? Oh God. If Dru ever saw you like this, she'd laugh her ass off.  The imagined sound of her laughter teased him, softly winding its way to the very core of him. Fucking pathetic loser. You're a joke, a worthless, impotent piece of shit that should have been staked by now to spare the world from your ridiculous existence.

"What kind of a witch are you anyway? Did you even try to keep the wolf here or did you just immediately roll over and start sniveling?" Oh, it felt good to lash out at somebody.

"Wwwhat," Willow stuttered in shock.

"It's a good thing I didn't have you finish that spell to get Dru back if these are the kind of results I could have expected." Spike continued, encouraged by her hurt response. Maybe someone else in the world can feel as worthless as you do my old boy.

The kernel of truth embedded in his attack burrowed into her heart, spreading it's dark tale to a part of her that had already believed his words even before he spoke them.
You are a bad witch. Your spells are laughable. Who are you trying to kid?

"Even I can't work miracles."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" He spat; surprised the little creampuff could show some sign of backbone.

"All you ever do is bitch and moan. Why would Drusilla ever want you back now? Have you looked at yourself lately, what's there for her to love? I couldn't pull that off even if I channeled Aphrodite herself."  If she could, Oz would be here right now.

"You Bitch!" He screamed, raising a hand to her and immediately clawing at his temples as a bolt of sensation ripped through his skull.

"Be careful or you'll hurt yourself," she cautioned, annoyed that she even cared. He's not a lost puppy who followed you home; he's a killing demon vampire-and a prick besides.

"Thank you for your concern," he replied sulkily, still holding a hand over his eyes. "I never knew you cared."

"Now you're just being sarcastic."

He smiled weakly and lowered his hand from his face. "Am not," he countered testily.

Willow narrowed her eyes and glared at him, but said nothing.

His smile widened into a mischievous grin at the thought of standing here arguing with his prisoner. "You always make me laugh." In fact, she was the only one of the damn Scooby gang who ever stuck up for him. He'd lost Dru forever: and was now stuck here with a soft hearted, red headed, want to be witch.
 
 

"At least I'm good for something." She stared at him for a second before adding, "You really miss her don't you?"  Ooo.keen observation skills Wil.

He nodded. "For the record, I think your wolf was an asshole for leaving you." Was that niceness? Careful now.

Oz hadn't loved her enough to stay with her. She was alone and nothing made sense; tomorrow brought the promise of nothing but the same. She sighed a ragged breath and confessed, "Sometimes I feel so dead inside."  Why are you telling him this, he's not your psychiatrist. You might as well get ready, because he's going to rip you a new one.     She raised her face to him as one tear slid down her face. It didn't matter anymore as she waited for his attack.

He joined her on the bed, the springs creaking under his weight. Unconsciously, he reached out to wipe the moisture with his thumb, but drew back, uncertain. Why are you acting like a bloody nursemaid; because you used to do the same for Dru. Does this look like Dru, even remotely?  No, but you also see yourself in her pain. Shut up-who asked you!

"Mostly I just want to feel something." His face was drawn, tired.

"Is that why you went out with Harmony?" she teased through her tears.

"No, that's because I was drunk and horny," he admitted ruefully.

"You know, I always thought she was a pain," Willow hiccupped.

"Me too."  It took a moment to realize he was smiling again. Why was she always teasing him, cajoling him? Dru used to do that. When he was mad or mopey, she would make a face or a funny voice to bring him out of his mood. Or she'd take his hand and lead him towards their bed. of course, sometimes she'd just poke her doll's eyes out and shriek that the moon had told her to do it. Yeah, Willow's exactly like Dru, and here's your straight jacket.

Sitting next to her, he could smell her warm skin; salty perspiration and the faint musk of what-sandalwood?  Why did he want to bury himself in her and connect them together forever; to taste her and feel her blood coursing through him, to feel her latch onto him and feed until they were bound infinitely, endlessly, to sire her?

Because you've gone completely insane, it's been awhile since you had a woman and you miss Drusilla, insane, raving madwoman that she was.
 

~Part Five~

Spike was staring at her with those hypnotic blue eyes. Probably listing 101 ways to kill her slowly and painfully.   If she looked too deeply into those eyes, she felt like she was being sucked into them, like he would consume her until she didn't exist anymore as herself, only as a part of him.  Quit being so dramatic Rosenberg, if you weren't the Slayer's best friend, he'd never give you a second look..unless you were an insane killing demon..

"Have you ever kissed a vampire?" He murmured softly.

Imagine his face as your last image of this world, clinging to it as your life poured from you; and, greeting it as your first image in your immortality. "No," her voice quavered uncertainly.

Was he trying to forget Dru, this chip, his own uselessness? Was the fleeting doubt of despair making him turn to this human, this girl, who had been little more than a
thorn in his side. What was compelling him to beg for her affections, want to claim her for eternity; which was something he could never do. Not now.

It was hard for him to think, when all he wanted to do was plunge into her and hear her cry out to him, to God. He leaned into her, pleased when she didn't immediately pull away.

"What would you say if I told you I can smell you, hear your blood calling to me? That I want to bury myself in you and connect us forever, but if I think about it for too long, pain pierces my skull? That I want to punish you for making me want you and hurting me at the same time?"

"I'd say that you need professional help."   Yeah and so did she if she believed that old myth-blue balls indeed.

"Kiss me," he begged beguilingly. She wore her uncertainty obviously, where he could chip slowly away at it, would know the exact moment it slipped away. "It's only you and I here, no one would ever have to know." She wavered; he could see it in her eyes.

"I don't know." she trailed lamely.

"It's not the final kiss Willow. I don't want to kill you; I want to love you. Just one kiss, one taste? Aren't you tired of being alone?   Tired of dreaming about tendrils of dark, silken hair wafting slowly over you while a tiny voice drifts through your brain, 'My sweet, my little Spike.' Tired of waking up in a cold sweat?

Was she tired of being alone?  Oh Goddess, yes.  And right now it was hard to conjure even one reason why it was a terrible idea. His lips were inches away. One word and they would claim hers, she could trace their outline with her tongue, feel them part as he invited her deep inside. Finally, she wouldn't be alone.

She blinked slowly and knew she was lost as she swayed towards him. Gently, she slid her cheek next to his, stopping to beg softly in his ear, "We won't tell anyone what happens here?"

He shuddered as her breath fanned his cheek and her lips brushed his skin as she nuzzled her way to the hollow of his neck. His skin was cool, but not unpleasantly so. It was hard to remember that he really wasn't living. The dim light bathed him in a golden sheen like a dusting of honeyed powder. What would he taste like? A definite undertaste of tangy salt, she decided, circling her tongue in a slow ring. She drew away slightly, ashamed of her sudden reckless action.

Spike felt his heart sink when she pulled away. Her head was bowed, eyes closed. She was struggling. If you don't want to be left with an erection you have to finish off yourself, you better do something.

"Hey," he beseeched gently. Don't fuck this up mate, charm the girl.

She looked up at him through lowered lashes, what she really wanted to do was to taste him again. "Okay, now who's a big 'ho?  If you were anyone with guts-like Faith, you'd go for it. Oh yeah, there's a positive role model. Couldn't you find a place somewhere between psychotic rogue slayer bitch and everyone's mousy little friend Willow?

"Humans cling to their fear, demons release It." Hey, that was pretty good.

"Embrace your fear Willow and let it go." Damn, you should be writing this down.

"Are you chicken?" Okay that might have been too far.

Chicken? Yep. Always have been always will be. 18 years of being a chicken and look what its got you-dumped.  She swallowed hard and willed her hand to rise. Delicately, hesitantly, she placed it against the hard, muscled wall of his chest, as if the touch would burn her. Nope. No lightning bolts, no fire or brimstone. Nothing. Well, maybe something.

Such strength coiled there, prevented from escaping. Her hand lightly skimmed a path down to his waist, where it wound its way underneath his shirt and retraced that path, dragging the fabric with it.  Okay, you're either forging a path to a new, courageous life, or you're making a terrible mistake.

Spike withdrew his hand from her face, raising his arms to allow her to remove her only obstruction to her exploration of his skin. His eyes followed her hand as it returned to his flesh, smoothing a slow, torturous route, stopping momentarily to circle his nipples, her nails scraping a thin line around them and continuing downward.  The muscles of his abdomen contracted involuntarily under her feathered touch, but were ignored as her fingers reached the wide leather belt at his waist. She pulled roughly at the strap to release the buckle, fingers fumbling in her haste as desire replaced fear. He's right; no one will ever have to know.

It was too much; he was about to explode like some impatient schoolboy. That hadn't happened in what-100 years? Damn if some little girl is gonna steer the reins of William The Bloody-not likely. With a growl, he slammed into her, throwing her back on the bed, capturing her wrists and bringing them over her head.
 
 

"Easy big fella," she managed to laugh even as her clitoris started to itch for the feel of friction his cock would bring as it entered her. You should stop him. That would be the right thing to do. Uh huh.

"Do you want me to stop, "he growled low, piercing her with narrowed blue eyes.  If she says no, this chip is going to kill me, cause I'm not stopping. GODDAMN IT!

She didn't bother to answer, but instead, captured his lips with her own, exploring him hungrily with her tongue. Oh Rosenberg, you're going to hell, except you're a witch and you don't believe in hell, but you'll go somewhere and it will be hellish. Or hell-like? Or.

He kept both of her wrists pinned in one inhumanly strong hand and brought the other down to free the buttons of her shirt. A cool rush of air brought a shiver, followed by a flush of heat. As his fingers trailed down, seeking her warmth, stroking her clitoris, she whimpered as one finger slipped inside of her, aided by her own wetness.

"Open up Willow," he whispered.

She immediately spread herself, allowing him full access. Oh yeah, this is definitely hell.  The colors of the room melted together as every sensation felt like it originated from her very center where his fingers spread her, caressed her. The pleasure was so intense; she couldn't form thoughts or words to tell him, she could only plunge her tongue deeply into his mouth, hoping he would understand.

And he did understand, because he felt it too. He managed to pull away slightly, despite her wordless protest. "What do you want Red?" He teased. He had to hear her say it, had to know she wanted him and not some memory of another. His ego needed to hear her say it, and know that someone wanted him.

She fought through many layers of bliss and desire to try and articulate the emptiness that originated deep inside her just beyond where his fingers were stroking her, that needed to be filled by him or she would die. It was a place that Oz used to fill, but had lain silent and empty since he left, an aching void that shrieked it's need until that was the only thing that existed. All she could manage was a primal, guttural-"fuck me."

His features settled into a smile of blatant male satisfaction that intensified when she cried out in protest as he moved his hand to carry out her wish and tug at the zipper of his jeans. Soon, he was poised, feeling his cock settle in the entrance of her wet, quivering cunt. She was ready for him and he paused briefly, wondering what the hell they thought they were doing, before thrusting into her with a wordless howl.

Her vision twirled before her in a blur of colors until she felt she would spin right out of her body; intensified by the pressure of his hands pinning her arms above her head and the feel of him penetrating her and then withdrawing. The weight of his body slamming hers against the mattress was the only thing that kept her anchored, and brought her consciousness back into her body. Oh Goddess.

"I want to touch you," she moaned. "Please Spike."

He complied, sliding his hand slowly down her frame to rest on her hips. It was a surprise and a shock how well their bodies fit together, as if he'd been born to taste her, feel her, and fuck her. He would never have though the witch could have such an exquisitely natural rhythm for fucking. He'd always considered her a little cautious, a little hesitant, well a little prude. The kind who would lie back, close her eyes and do it for God and country. It had been a long time since anyone had surprised him, pleasantly that is.

Willow was just full of surprises today. She grabbed his shoulders and scrambled to twist their bodies, reversing their positions until she straddled him, all without allowing their connection to be broken. Add incredibly nimble and flexible to the list of her surprises, he mused.

His hard shaft pulsated as she slid down its length, her weight bringing him deeper inside of her. Spike threw back his head and squeezed his eyes shut as she began to rock back and forth slowly, finding a tempo that suited her and becoming buried in it. Even with his eyes closed, her image was burned into the darkness all around him: her half lidded, sleepy green eyes, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she concentrated on her pleasure. If only he'd done this before the chip. If only he'd turned her, swallowed every bit of her cloying humanity and untied them for a thousand years of ecstasy. Would you have stumbled upon her on her knees blowing a chaos demon, would the memory of her-eyes closed, mouth filled with a cankerous, scaled prick haunt him as he tossed fitfully everyday?  What would a thousand years of sex with Willow be like? This was the thought that lingered as he exploded inside of her. She collapsed against him, spent and sweating, her red hair strewn across his pale flesh.
*******************************************************
*Crack *

Through a hazy mist of sleep, Willow struggled to surface. What was going on? Eyelids-so heavy. Finally, they fluttered open and she looked blankly around.

*Crack*

She was naked in a bed, Spike's bed. Memories flooded back and she blushed as she recalled her actions. It took only seconds to realize that she was alone in the room. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. In the history of all stupid actions, this had to be the worst, ever. At least she didn't have to wake up to face him. Stroke of luck number two; her clothes were neatly folded at the foot of the bed.

*Crack*

The door wouldn't last long, whoever was battering it was determined to get in and she was willing to bet Spike hadn't lost his key. Hurriedly, she shrugged into her clothes and leaped into a crouch on the bed, unsure if she should arm herself or just hide.

*Crack *

The door exploded inward and she cringed involuntarily. She had no idea of what to expect, but visibly relaxed as Buffy strode into the room, followed closely by: Riley, Xander and two- dozen initiative soldiers.

"Willow," Buffy sighed loudly in relief when she saw her. "You're okay?"

"Oh God Willow," Xander cried, rushing forward to envelope her in a big hug.

Buffy joined them, rubbing Willow's arm and obviously trying to hold back tears.

"Where's Spike?"

I don't know," Willow admitted truthfully, trying to slow the rapid heartbeat that his name invoked.

"Let's get out of here," Riley urged, eyeing the small room nervously.

Upon exiting, the room, the evidence of the bloodbath Willow had feared became all too apparent. Demon bodies were strewn haphazardly about the floor as far as the eye could see, while numerous piles of dust bore testament to the destructive power of a slayer intent on rescuing her best friend.

"Now I'm going to find Spike, ask him what the hell was going on here and then I'm going to stake his ass," Buffy emphasized the statement with a vicious thrust of her arm.

What the hell was going on here. "No," Willow panicked. None of her friends could ever find out what had happened here, about her temporary insanity that was last night.

Buffy, Xander and Riley looked at her in surprise at the unexpected outburst.

"I meant, umm..we need to get out of here. He could be back at any time." Was that convincing enough?

"Yeah," Xander agreed, "and then we will commence with the staking."

Willow knew she would blush the next time she saw Spike, and then she would have to explain the entire events of her imprisonment. And who was to say Spike wouldn't rat her out, he wasn't famous for keeping his promises. That would be just the kind of psychological torture that he enjoyed. She could just imagine the smile on his face.."Guess what Willow and I did?" And the looks of shock and, what..revulsion..disgust on her friend's faces? Her head was starting to hurt; she had to get out of here.

"Let's go. He told me he was just, um, kidding." Yeah, that really sounded plausible. If she fainted, than they'd have to carry her out of there, right?

"Willow, what is going on?" Buffy demanded loudly.

It was time to try it out. "I.feel.faint." She swayed dramatically, peeking out from under lowered lashes to see if anyone was buying it.

"Let's get her outside," Riley offered, shooing everyone to the exit.

Goddess' bless Riley.

Riley and the men scattered ahead to clear the way of any stray demons, while her friends fussed over Willow and ushered her in the direction of the way out. Buffy and Xander preceded her out the door, but Willow was stopped as a hand grasped her arm from behind.

"What the hell.." Spike's voice echoed behind her and she turned to face him. Their eyes met and a secret shared hung between them. She backed away from him, into the sunlight outside, but his grip was strong.

"Where are you going, the party is just starting," he asked as he gave a little pull on her arm, drawing her closer to him. "You're not leaving are you?"

"Yeah I am," she breathed, trying not to look into his eyes, afraid he was laughing at her.

                         With a hard tone, he threatened, "What if I just tell everyone that you and."

  "You would, you pig. You've probably never kept a promise n your life," she accused vehemently and jerked her arm back.

Buffy grabbed Willow's other arm and tried to pull her further out into the daylight. With the red head blocking the doorway, no one could get a clear shot at Spike. Buffy won the tug of war barely, just enough to bring Spike's hand into the sun's rays. He held on for a good thirty seconds, in which he glared at Willow, before his skin burst into flame. He put the blaze out against his jeans, absently, even though it must have hurt like hell.

Staring at the sunlight shimmering in her hair, he realized he could never share her with the daylight world and he sure as hell couldn't turn her, not now. And the thought of another drinking her, linking with her forever was a concept that left his stomach burning. She would go with her friends anyway, it was stupid to think anything else could happen. "Bitch."

"Asshole." Would he have told, maybe not?  His lips were reminding her of how he tasted and she shivered with the memory. She could go to him now, leave her friends and family. The only price would be her soul and probably her sanity.

The stood, regarding each other silently for several moments, then both turned and started walking away. Buffy and the rest of the gang looked quizzically at each other and then hurried to catch up with Willow.

     Finis

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