The dust rolled as Spike brought the big, black car to
a dead stop. He
got out and strode to the abandoned depot. He tugged
at the door, then
noticed the obviously new heavy hasp and padlock affixed
to the casing
just above his head. Spike tightened his purchase on
the old, rusting
doorknob and tore the door off its hinges.
He moved into the darkness and glanced around the dusty
room. His eyes
settled on a set of stairs in one corner. He took them
two at a time and
almost ran head-first into a wooden door situated in
front of the top
step. It, too, was locked, and Spike lifted a heavy boot
and kicked it
in.
Willow, having heard the commotion of Spike's rampage,
was cowering on
the bed. He was at her side in two steps. He gathered
her trembling body
into his arms and inhaled the sweet scent of her hair.
"Spike," Willow breathed against his chest and wrapped
her free arm
around his neck.
"Shhh. It's alright now. I'm here," his voice was soft and soothing.
He pulled away from her and noticed the iron cuff locked
around her
wrist. He snarled and reached for her hand. Spike grabbed
hold of the
wide cuff with both hands and broke it open. Carefully,
he took her hand
in his. Her wrist was bruised and bloodied where she
had struggled
against her bond in a futile attempt to free herself.
Spike brought her wrist to his mouth and gently lapped
at the blood. Its
taste was exquisite. He felt a fire begin to burn in
his belly, and his
cock twitched with desire.
"Are you alright, luv?" he managed to speak.
"Yes, now. Please, get me out of here," she pleaded.
He drew her mouth to his in a deep kiss, then took her
left hand and
pulled her off the bed and out the doorway.
"Are we going to the warehouse?" Willow asked wearily
as Spike pulled
away from the depot.
Her head rested on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm
around her and
gently caressed her breast.
"No, we can't. Angel and the slayer will be looking for
me. They're
bound to find their way to the lair eventually," he explained.
"Where, then?" she raised her head and looked up at him.
Spike placed a kiss on her forehead, "We have to get out
of Sunnydale,
for the time being, at least."
"What?" she sat up fully. "Are you serious?"
"I am, pet. Do you want to go back there and take your
chances with them
after what they did to you?"
"No," she admitted. "But my parents--"
"Won't be home for days. You can call, leave a message
that you've
gone--I don't know where--somewhere to visit a friend,"
Spike suggested.
"I have friends down the coast. I can tell them I've taken
my school
work with me. They won't bother to check."
"There you are, then. You up for this, little one?" he asked in concern.
"Yes," she resolved. "But can we stop somewhere soon? I'm so tired."
He tightened his arm around her and grinned, "You'd better
sleep now,
pet, because you won't be doing much of that after we
stop."
Willow chuckled and snuggled back against him, "I'm so
glad you found
me."
***
Between the two of them, Buffy and Angel had staked 14
vampires in an
hour's time.
"What the hell is going on?" Buffy asked as she rested
against a
lamppost and wiped the sweat from her forehead with her
shirt sleeve.
"Is this an all-night buffet for demons, or what?"
Angel looked down at her, "I'd say someone is trying to
keep us
extremely busy."
Buffy's eyes flew to his. "Spike! He's figured out that
we have Willow,
and he's getting his revenge?" she asked.
"Or he's keeping us occupied while he searches for her," Angel replied.
"He'll never find her. That old building has been abandoned
for years.
The road is all grown over with weeds. I doubt anyone
even remembers
it's there," she said.
"You did," Angel pointed out.
"Am I underestimating him?" Buffy cast a worried look
at him. "I'm
underestimating him.
"Come on, let's go," Angel pulled her away from the lamppost.
***
Several stakings and a mad dash later, they came to a
stop outside the
depot. Angel stared into the shadows as Buffy breathed
heavily beside
him. The couple made their way to the decimated outer
doorway. They
exchanged panicked looks and bolted up the stairs to
find the upper door
lying on the floor and the room empty, the broken manacle
the only
evidence that Willow had ever been there.
"He found her," Buffy groaned. "Oh, God, he found her."
Angel pulled her into a fierce embrace and fought back
tears as Buffy's
spilled down her face.
***
"Willow," Spike whispered into her hear.
She stirred against him, "Hmmm? What is it?"
"The sun will be up in a few hours. We need to get inside."
She roused herself and raised her mouth to receive his kiss.
"We've stopped?" she asked.
"Yeah. We can stay here for the day."
Willow had no idea where "here" was, but she allowed Spike
to pull her
out of the car. They stood in front of what must have
once been a rather
impressive hotel. It looked as though its caliber of
clientele had
slipped dramatically over the years. The white paint
on its exterior was
coming off in great strips, and two windows at the far
end had been
boarded up.
"Can we stay here?" she asked. "What about the sun?"
"We can take one of those," Spike pointed at the rooms at the end.
"You think they're available?" she wondered.
Spike shrugged, "Let's find out."
The owner told them that, although both rooms were cleaned
and
furnished, neither was available to guests. With a bit
of cajoling from
the charmingly witty blonde man, he finally consented
and sent a
housemaid to make the bed.
"You're amazing, you know that?" Willow giggled after
the maid had left
and they were alone in the room. "We've been traveling
all night, and
your wife is a bear if she's awakened by the sun? I can't
believe you
actually got him to swallow that!"
"He probably thinks we have some kind of weird fetish," Spike grinned.
Willow blushed at the idea that the portly, balding owner
might actually
have such thoughts.
Spike laughed at her reaction and pulled her close to
him, "What's
wrong, luv? Never been called a weird fetish before?"
Willow slapped his arm, "Not funny."
"Sorry, baby," he bent to kiss her.
Willow leaned into him and deepened the kiss. Spike lifted
her and
carried her to the bed. She lay still beneath him as
he slowly undressed
her. His own clothing followed, and their naked bodies
met and wrapped
around one another. Her hands played across his chest.
He took her
uninjured wrist and guided her hand to his hardening
cock. His fingers
found her clit, and he began to rub against it as she
gently stroked
him, all the while amazed that she could cause such a
reaction from this
man.
Her musings were interrupted by the surge of desire Spike's
fingers were
creating as he teased her. She parted her legs, silently
begging him to
take her. She whimpered as she felt his cock against
her pussy.
Spike brought his mouth down on hers as he entered her.
Willow wrapped
her arm around his neck, pressing his mouth hard against
hers. He began
to move inside her, and her body responded in perfect
rhythm with his.
He tortured her with his slow, deep thrusts, determined
to drive all
thoughts of the night's distress from the mind of his
red-haired
goddess.
Willow frantically pushed against him, her entire being
focused
completely on what his body was doing to hers. Spike
sensed her agony
and quickened his thrusts. His mouth moved to her hardened
nipple, and
he nipped at it. Willow gasped as she climaxed. Spike
saw her eyes cloud
over and felt her hands gripping his biceps before his
body succumbed to
his own passion and he drove into her, growling as he
came.
Willow breathed a satisfied sigh as Spike sunk down beside
her on the
bed. She rolled into him, and he put his arms around
her and rubbed her
back. She was exhausted, and her body immediately relaxed
as she rested
against him and their legs intertwined.
They lay peacefully together for a moment before Spike's
soft chuckle
broke the silence.
"What's so funny?" Willow asked lazily.
"I was just picturing the slayer and Angel racing around
Sunnyhell
dusting vampires and frantically looking for you," he
laughed and pulled
her tight against him.
Spike watched as a grin, equally as wicked as his own,
formed on
Willow's lips. He kissed the top of her head and listened
as her
breathing took on the slow, deep rhythm of sleep. He
loved the feeling
of this small, soft woman in his arms.
End.