PART 1
Spike awoke in the cold dark crypt to a blinding pain clawing inside
his head. Clutching his temples, he staggered out into the night,
struggling to keep himself upright as he stumbled on toward Giles’
house, toward help.

Buffy nearly dropped the book in her hands, and Willow scrabbled up off
the sofa at the hard pounding on the front door. Giles crossed the room
quickly and flung the door open, and Spike took a single step over the
threshold before pitching face-forward onto the floor. Anya untangled
her arms from around Xander, and he jumped up out of the armchair and
ran to Giles’ side. Lifting the unconscious vampire by his arms, the
two men hauled him over to the sofa and lowered him down onto it.

"What’s wrong with him?" Willow asked, her eyes darting to the others
around her.

"The chip?" Buffy guessed.

Giles arched an eyebrow and studied the vampire’s face, "Could be. We
should get help."

"I don’t know. I kind of like him this way," Xander mused, crossing his
arms over his chest and staring down at Spike’s still form. "Maybe we
should just let Sleeping Ugly lie."

"We can’t just leave him like this," Willow protested. "Giles, do you
have any blood in the fridge?"

"Yes, I think so," he nodded and turned toward the kitchen.

The vampire stirred and moaned softly from the sofa, and the ex-watcher
turned back anxiously as Willow dropped down onto her knees beside him.
His blue eyes slowly opened and focused on the redhead, and Buffy
tensed, ready to react, as his hands reached up to cup Willow’s face.
He pulled her down and placed a hard kiss on her lips, shocking her
into inaction.

"Hey!" Xander shouted, looking frantically from the vampire to Buffy
and back again. "Let go of her lips, fang boy!"

Spike snarled as the young man bent to pull Willow away, and the blonde
vampire lashed out, landing a hard backhand across Xander's jaw and
sending him reeling backwards onto his rear end. Willow’s gasp of
surprise was quickly smothered as his mouth returned to hers. She began
to struggle, and he pushed himself upright, pulling her down and
cradling her close to him.

"It’s all right, luv. You’re safe now," he murmured close to her ear.

"Um...thanks?" she squeaked softly as he trailed cold kisses along her
cheek.

"Should he have been able to do that?" Xander questioned, dragging
himself up off the floor and rubbing his buttocks. "Without the usual
amusing migraine, I mean?"

Buffy shook herself from her stunned stupor, "I’ll phone Riley."

"Wait!" Willow pushed herself out of Spike’s embrace and shot to her
feet as the slayer went to the phone and lifted the receiver, her
finger poised to dial. "You can’t call Riley! He doesn’t know who Spike
is!"

"Will, who cares?" Buffy frowned at her friend. "There’s something
wrong with him. He smacked Xander, and he’s developed the urge to play
tonsil hockey with you! If that chip has stopped working--"

"We don’t know that!" Willow argued, snatching the phone out of the
slayer’s hand and holding it to her ear to make sure Riley wasn’t on
the other end.

Spike’s eyes flashed amber, and a low growl rumbled through his chest
as he shoved himself off the sofa, flew across the room, and pried the
receiver out of the redhead’s hand. He threw it to the floor and placed
his strong hands on her shoulders and peppered soft kisses on the ear
to which she had pressed the receiver.

"Spike!" she giggled as his lips tickled across her skin, and she tried
to push him away from her.

He was having none of it and only pulled her closer as one arm crept
firmly around her waist, "I’ve got you, baby. I promise. I’ll protect
you."

A groan of air was forced from her lungs as he hugged her tightly, and
she peered over his shoulder with wide, confused eyes at the others,
"From the phone?"

Giles retrieved the receiver from the floor and replaced it in its
cradle, "Perhaps it would be better if you went to Riley in person.
There is most definitely something wrong."

Willow had managed to push a little space between herself and the
vampire, and she raised a hand to brush her fingers comfortingly
against his cheek. The watch that was strapped to her left wrist
glimmered in the light and caught Spike’s eye. He grabbed her hand, and
ripped the leather strap from the timepiece, tossing it to the floor
and stomping on it with the heel of his boot. Buffy’s mouth dropped
open as Spike gently brought Willow’s wrist to his lips and tenderly
kissed the skin where the watch had been.

Xander’s eyes widened, "Tell Riley to haul ass over here. Now."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Buffy returned a half an hour later, frowning unhappily, to find Willow
planted firmly in the blonde vampire’s lap. Although it was obvious
from the defiant glare he flashed over at her that he had no intention
of letting the little redhead go, the slayer couldn’t help thinking
that Willow could have at least had the decency to look a whole lot
less
comfortable.

"Don’t tell me; he’s playing with his army men," Xander grumbled at the
lack of Riley’s presence.

Buffy nodded, "I couldn’t even tell him what’s going on. Forrest and
Graham were standing right at his elbow. And he isn’t going to be able
to get away until almost sunrise. Has Spike clobbered anybody else
since I’ve been gone?"

Anya shook her head, "Nope. He’s just been groping Willow."

Xander turned a scowl from her to the slayer, "Shouldn’t somebody tell
Dead Beat to go home now?"

"Good idea," Spike spoke up, standing and pulling Willow beside him.
"Come on, pet."

"I’m not going to that crypt!" she protested, then softened her voice
at the hurt look on his face. "I mean--well, it’s cold there and--"

"Well, he’s *not* coming back to the dorm!" Buffy stated. "Giles?"

"I’m afraid not," he refused. "I’m supposed to meet a friend for
breakfast, and she’s coming back here afterwards."

"I’ll take him to my parents’ house," Willow suggested. "They’re both
away on business, so it’ll be safe there."

Buffy looked skeptically over at her, "Will--"

"Just until Riley can help him," she quickly added.

Giles looked at the arm firmly curled around her waist and nodded his
agreement, "She seems to be safe enough. It’s obvious he has no
intention of harming her."

"That isn’t what I’m worried about," the slayer said dryly.

"It’ll be okay, Buffy," Willow assured her friend. "Come on, Spike."

"I’m checking on you--at regular intervals!" Buffy called after her as
they stepped out the front door.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Are you comfortable enough?" Willow asked as she draped a blanket over
Spike who was stretched out on the sofa in her parents’ living room.

"Not quite, luv," he answered, looking longingly up at her.

"Oh," she blushed faintly and backed away toward the stairway.
"Um...well...I’m really, really tired. So...I’ll see you in the
morning...or the evening...or...well...good night."

She turned and bolted up the stairs and into her bedroom, closing the
door behind her and leaning against it with a quiet sigh of relief. Her
mind still reeling from the evening’s strange events, she peeled off
her clothes and fished an oversized T-shirt from the dresser. She
covered a wide yawn and slipped under the blankets. It had been a long
time since she’d spent a night at home, and her bed felt amazingly
wonderful.

She snuggled more comfortably under the covers, and she had just nicely
drifted off to sleep when her bedroom door opened and then closed
quietly. Spike moved silently across the carpet, stripping off his
black T-shirt and jeans along the way. Willow’s eyes snapped open as
the mattress moved underneath her and a very hard, very cold, very
naked chest pressed itself close to her.

"Spike!" she squealed as he dragged the blankets over the both of them
and pulled her into his arms.

"Shhh. It’s all right, luv," he whispered before placing a soft kiss on
her lips. "I missed you down there."

"What has it been? Ten minutes?" she asked, trying futilely to wriggle
away from him.

"Seven and a half," he answered, holding her tighter and enjoying the
way her body was moving against his.

Willow abruptly stilled and breathed in sharply as she felt his cock
pressing against her thigh, "Oh, Goddess."

"That you are," he agreed. "You’re so beautiful."

"Spike, listen to me," she begged softly. "This isn’t--we aren’t--"

Her eyes widened, and she gasped as his cold hand darted under her
T-shirt and up along her warm, flat tummy to cup one soft breast. His
mouth crashed down on hers, and his tongue slipped between her lips and
ravished her mouth as he kneaded her breast. Willow moaned
involuntarily at the sensations his talented hand and tongue were
creating, but quickly came to her senses as his other hand crept up her
thigh and deftly dragged her panties downward.

Her mind was spinning with a jumble of confused thoughts. This was
wrong. This was Spike. This could not be happening. But, oh gods, he
felt so good. And it had been so long. And that delicious little dance
his fingers were doing over her quickly moistening slit was just
so...so....

Need gave reason the boot, and she buried her fingers in his hair, her
ears barely registering the sound of tearing fabric as he literally
ripped the shirt off of her body and lowered himself down onto her. His
hands and lips were everywhere, urging her body toward an unbearable
ache. Her legs parted willingly as his cock brushed over her clit,
sending a river of molten warmth flowing from her core up through her
belly.

He moaned as he slid deeply within her tight heat, and Willow’s hips
rose to meet his in a desperate rhythm. Her blunt teeth nipped at his
lower lip as his hands moved to cup her firm ass, pulling her into him,
wrapping her around him as he thrust in and out of her. She screamed
out his name, a single syllable of pure ecstasy, and he growled and
dropped his mouth to her throat, grazing her skin with his fangs, but
not breaking the flesh, as he emptied his seed into her wet, spasming
channel.

Willow panted heavily as Spike moved off of her and laid down beside
her, his head resting close to hers. He placed several soft kisses on
her red, swollen lips before pulling her into the comforting firmness
of his arms. They fell asleep at almost the same moment, still tangled
around one another.
 

PART 2
Willow awoke to find herself facing the wall, and her sleepy brain
gradually registered the feeling of a strong arm wrapped around her and
a cold body pressed close up against her back. She shifted around, her
face flaming crimson, as she came nose to nose with the still sleeping
vampire.

Carefully, she extracted herself from his arm and crawled off the end
of the bed. Looking back around at him, she pushed her hair away from
her face and made quick tracks for the bathroom. The air in the small
room grew increasingly misty as the vapor from the hot shower spray
rose up from the tub. She felt a warm tingle spread through her body as
she mentally relived last night’s passionate coupling. Shaking herself,
she rinsed the shampoo out of her hair and turned off the water before
reaching beyond the shower curtain to blindly flail around for her
towel.

She dried off and rubbed the towel over her dripping red locks. She
stared at her reflection in the mirror above the sink and tried to make
sense of the past several hours, but there wasn’t much sense to be
found in any of it. Spike’s strange actions must be connected to the
chip implanted in his brain, she decided. But if it had malfunctioned,
why had he chosen to screw her senseless instead of hurting her? He’d
batted Xander soundly enough and hadn’t seemed to suffer any ill
effects. And why did he suddenly feel the driving urge to protect her?
And why, in heaven’s name, did that urge include objects such as
telephones and wristwatches?

Grumbling softly, she dropped the comb onto the counter and shrugged on
her bathrobe, tying the sash around her trim waist before stepping back
into her bedroom. Spike was sitting up on the edge of the bed,
completely nude, his eyes frantic with worry. He leapt up and ran to
her as she entered the room, taking her by the arms and pulling her
close to him.

"Where the bloody hell did you go, pet?" he murmured. "I woke up, and
you were gone--"

"A shower," she mumbled against his bare chest. "I just took a--"

Suddenly, he growled and drew away from her, his blue eyes raking over
the thick robe around her body and settling upon the sash cinched
around her waist. A soft, fearful cry parted her lips as his fingers
clenched around the sash and tore it off of the garment. His hands
grabbed at the lapels and shoved the robe from her shoulders, pushing
it to the floor and quickly kicking it away.

Willow stood naked, trembling before him, as he took her back into his
arms, and clutched her to him, "You’re all right now, baby. It’s gone.
It can’t hurt you."

"Wh-what?" she stammered. "Spike, it’s only a bath--"

"I know," he hushed her, holding her close, kissing neck, her shoulder,
soothing her body with his gentle hands. "You’re so brave. But it’s all
over now. You’re safe."

She jumped as his hand traveled down her back to her rear end, and she
pushed herself away from him and looked up into his concerned eyes,
"Breakfast. I need breakfast. And--oh!--clothes. Yeah. Got to have
clothes, first."

She scurried away from him and rummaged around in her dresser for a
pair of jeans and an old, faded sweatshirt. Spike watched mournfully as
her pale skin disappeared behind the clothes, but stooped to retrieve
his own from the floor and pull them on. He reached out and caught her
by the hand as she tried to move past him toward the door.

"Better let me go first, luv. Just in case," he suggested.

"In case of what?" she muttered, as he pulled her along after him.
"Killer rugs?"

He peered around the living room as they stepped off the bottom stair,
"Looks like we’re alone."

"Uh huh," she nodded, silently wishing that Buffy would hurry up and do
some of that regular checking-in she had promised last night.

She led him out to the kitchen, where his gaze followed her as she
started a pot of coffee brewing and popped a slice of bread in the
toaster.

"You’re not--not--hungry, are you?" she asked nervously.

He helped himself to the fridge as he answered, "Giles put a bag of
blood in my coat pocket before we left his place. I threw it in here
before I came up to your room last night."

"Ah, good old Giles," the redhead breathed in relief.

With a loud gasp, Spike dropped the bag on the table and snatched away
the knife Willow had taken from a drawer.

"Hey!" she protested. "I need that!"

He shook his head solemnly, "Sweetheart, it’s a knife. Knives are
*deadly*."

She put her hands on her hips, "It’s a butter knife, dammit! I want
butter on my toast!"

"There will be no knife in those precious fingers," he vowed as he
plucked the toast from the toaster and spread butter liberally over it
before handing it to her.

Eyeing him warily, she nibbled quietly on the toast as he put the bag
of blood in the microwave and heated it for a few seconds. She finished
eating before he did and turned to the sink to wash her hands.

"Wait!" Spike shouted, startling her. "It isn’t too hot, is it?"

Her head lolled forward in defeat as she murmured, "No, Spike. It’s
fine."

Elbowing her aside, he stuck his hand under the running water and
tested it before nodding for her to continue. She couldn’t help
giggling softly at the ridiculousness of it all, and he grinned and
placed a wet smack on her cheek before stepping slightly away. Willow
tossed the dish towel onto the counter as the doorbell rang, and Spike
grabbed her elbow as she headed toward the living room.

He arched a knowing eyebrow at her, "Check first."

"Yes, sir," she saluted and stepped over to the door. "Buffy? That
you?"

"Yeah," came the reply. "And I’ve brought reinforcements."

"Thank the Goddess," the redhead smiled, turning her head to make sure
Spike was well out of reach of the late morning sun before pulling the
door open to let the slayer and Riley inside.

Spike snarled threateningly at the man and pulled Willow to his side,
and she swallowed and looked at Buffy, "He--he knows about Spike?"

"I explained everything," she nodded.

"I don’t like it," Riley added, glaring back at the vampire. "But I
trust Giles and Buffy a lot more than I trust the Initiative. I’ll do
what I can to find out what’s wrong."

"Thank you," Willow flashed him a relieved smile.

"He hasn’t tried to hurt you, has he?" Buffy asked. "Because if he’s
laid a hand on you--"

"No!" the redhead assured her as visions of the previous evening caused
her to flush softly. "He...he’s been...great."

"You weren’t so bad yourself, pet," Spike smiled at her and plopped
down onto the sofa, drawing her down onto his lap.

Deciding she’d rather not have that cryptic remark explained, the
slayer chose to ignore it, "Riley thinks Spike’s--mental problems--must
have something to do with the implant."

"Then how are we going to help him?" Willow asked. "You can’t take him
back to that torture chamber!"

"We won’t have to," Riley told her. "There’s a piece of portable
diagnostic equipment that, if I can get my hands on it, should tell us
what’s wrong. The Initiative thinks I’m about to turn traitor. I don’t
even have access without someone to accompany me. Forrest is watching
my every move, but I think I can get Graham to see reason, if I can
talk to him alone."

"Well, how long will that be?" the redhead wanted to know.

"I can’t say, Willow," he told her. "First chance I get. That’s the
best I can do."

"Spike, before you showed up at Giles’ last night, exactly what had
happened to you?" Buffy asked.

He shrugged and cuddled Willow closer to him, "I woke up with a bloody
headache. Thought my head was going to explode off my shoulders."

"You hadn’t been trying to sink your teeth into something of the human
variety?" the slayer asked him suspiciously.

He scowled over at her, "No. I was *sleeping*."

"You weren’t dreaming about sinking your teeth into something of the
human variety?" Willow suggested.

He grinned at her and ran a hand through her hair, "No, pet. I woke up
with a blinding pain in my head. It wouldn’t stop. I didn’t know where
else to go, so--"

"And it hasn’t returned since last night--the headache?" Riley
inquired.

"Not since I woke up on Giles’ sofa," the vampire answered.

"With your lips glued to Willow’s," Buffy added angrily. "And you
belted Xander! And that damned implant never activated."

"Goes to prove there’s a bright side to everything," he smirked at her.
 

PART 3
Willow closed the front door behind Buffy and Riley and turned to find
Spike moving directly behind her. He backed her up against the door and
crushed his mouth to hers. After several moments of tangled tongues and
tangled thoughts, Willow placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed
him gently away from her.

"Need coffee," she mumbled, stepping quickly around him, and headed in
the direction of the kitchen.

He chuckled and took off after her and leaned against the refrigerator
as she poured a mug of black coffee. Glancing over at his penetrating
gaze, she raised the mug to her lips and winced as the hot liquid
burned her lips. With a quick growl, Spike moved into action, whisking
the offending piece of ceramic out of her hand and throwing it
violently across the room. It slammed into the back door, and coffee
splattered everywhere as the mug fell into shards on the kitchen floor.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured affectionately, brushing his lips over
her reddened ones and raising her warm hand to kiss the palm that had
been wrapped around the hot mug.

"It’s okay, Spike," Willow sighed heavily. "I’m okay. It was just a
little hotter than I’d expected."

"I’m sorry, baby. I should have protected you better than that," he
apologized.

"Oh, geez," she grumbled, wriggling her way around him and stooping to
pick up the broken remnants of the mug.

"Stop!" he shouted, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from the
mess. "They’re sharp and dangerous. I’ll take care of this."

Willow giggled as he collected up the splinters of ceramic, "My hero."

He tossed the pieces into the trash can beside the counter and placed
his hands on her shoulders, "Now, you go sit down in the living
room--and *don’t* move. I’ll bring you another cup of coffee, after
I’ve made certain it’s at a safe temperature."

"But--but--I don’t--"

"Go on," he smiled softly and gave her ass a gentle pat, "I’ll be right
there."

She turned on her heel and marched out of the kitchen, muttering under
her breath the entire way to the sofa, "Stupid implant. Stupid
*vampire*. I’m going to go absolutely, irrevocably, stark-staring mad!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Willow walked silently beside Spike as her eyes traveled down to the
cold hand that was so firmly clasped around hers that she doubted she
could have pried it loose with a crowbar. Buffy had telephoned just
after sunset to explain that Riley hadn’t had any luck in getting to
speak privately with Graham and to tell her that they would be meeting
at Giles’ in an hour. From the second they had stepped out the front
door of her house, Spike had taken her hand in a vice grip and hadn’t
let go.

He came to an abrupt stand-still, wrenching Willow up close to him at
the sound of a soft snarl coming from up ahead. The form of a vampire
drifted out of the darkness and stared scornfully at Spike before
shifting his amber eyes to the redhead beside him. Willow’s hand shot
into her jacket pocket and withdrew the stake she always carried with
her.

Spike shook his head and stepped slightly in front of her, "Stay right
here, baby. I’ll handle this."

The unfamiliar vampire sniggered derisively at the protective tone with
which Spike spoke to the young woman. Without warning, he charged
directly at the blonde vampire, knocking him backwards onto his ass,
and made a quick grab for Willow’s wrist. She yelped as his strong hand
wrapped painfully around her arm. She raised the stake in her free hand
just as Spark snarled and rolled over to curl his hand around one of
the vampire’s ankles, yanking his foot out from under him. The
attacker’s head collided with a loud crack against the sidewalk, and
Spike straddled him and gripped him by the throat, hauling him back up
onto his feet and throwing him into a brick wall that ran alongside the
sidewalk.

Willow scrambled out of the way as Spike swung out, his fist connecting
solidly with the hapless vampire’s jaw. Thick red blood, and two teeth,
spurted out of his mouth, and he howled in pain as Spike continued to
pummel him.

"Spike!" Willow shouted. "Just kill him already!"

Enraged beyond reason, he ignored her cries and continued to work the
vampire into a bloody mess. He collapsed to the sidewalk in an unmoving
heap, and Spike gave him one final, hard kick in the groin before
grabbing the stake out of Willow’s hand and thrusting it into the
would-be assailant’s heart. He dropped the stake into the pocket of his
duster and turned to reclaim his redhead’s warm hand.

"You okay, luv?" he asked, his concerned eyes raking over her body.

She was trembling slightly in the aftermath of the violent onslaught
she had just witnessed, and he moaned softly and pulled her close to
him. He kissed her forehead, her temple, her cheek, her lips, lingering
against them as his hand rubbed calming circles over her back.

"I’ll never let anyone hurt you. I swear it," he promised softly before
kissing her once more.

She nodded mutely, and he turned her to his side and wrapped a
protective arm around her as they continued on toward Giles’ house.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Buffy’s smile quickly transformed into a concerned frown as a
decidedly-shaken Willow preceded Spike into Giles’ living room.

"Will, you okay?" the slayer asked. "What happened? Did he hurt you?"

"No," the redhead answered softly. "No, nothing like that. There was
a...a...vampire...out there...and...I’m pretty sure I was supposed to
be dinner...only, Spike...he...he..."

"Beat the bloody hell out of the bastard," the blonde vampire offered.

Willow nodded, "Yeah...what he said. I’m okay, though. Really.
Just--kind of--dazed. I guess."

"Oh," Buffy murmured, a bit dazed herself.

"You do look a little unsteady," Giles noted. "Sit down. Here."

He gestured toward the sofa, and Spike led her over and drew her down
onto his lap.

"I don’t think *that* here was the here that Giles meant," Buffy
scowled at him.

"It’s okay. I don’t mind," Willow murmured, then blushed scarlet as the
slayer’s eyebrows shot up. "Oh! Right...yeah...sofa here, not here
here--"

Spike tightened his arms around the squirming redhead, "You had the
answer right first time, pet. Relax."

Much to her friend’s consternation, Willow immediately stilled and
leaned back against the vampire’s shoulder and asked, "Riley, were you
able to find out anything?"

"Uh, no," the young man answered, confused by what he was seeing. "I
mean, not exactly. It’s a pretty sure thing that the implant has
somehow malfunctioned. I just don’t know how or why. It’s never
happened in any of the other hos--I mean, recipients. But then again,
we’ve never had one out of captivity for even a short period of time,
let alone weeks."

"That’s not very helpful, is it?" Giles remarked in a tone that clearly
meant no offense, and Riley took none.

"No, I’m afraid not," he agreed quietly. "What we need is that
diagnostic equipment. I checked the assignment roster. Forrest is
practically glued to Graham’s elbow for the next twenty-four hours.
It’ll be at least that long before I can talk to him about this, and
then--assuming I can persuade him--we’ll have to figure out how to get
into the lab to get the equipment without being discovered. Can you
hang on for another day or two, Willow?"

The young woman in question was having something of a struggle to keep
her mind on the conversation instead of the soft lips that were
currently working their way along her throat.

"I--I think--oh!" she shivered as Spike’s fingers brushed the hair away
from her neck to continue his mouth-to-skin explorations. "Uh, yeah, I
c-can do that."

"Oh, brother," Buffy muttered and rolled her eyes. "You sure it’ll take
that long, honey?"

"Afraid so," Riley shrugged, his eyes riveted to the unlikely couple
across from them. "Unless we want to risk drawing the Initiative’s
attention."

"Well, that’s that, then," Giles agreed.

"But aren’t we running the risk of Fang Face trying out his new
un-unbitey skills?" the slayer argued. "I mean, if he could smack
Xander without going mental, what’s to stop him from attacking any
other human?"

"That one," Riley couldn’t help laughing as he gestured over at Willow
and Spike, whose lips were now firmly pasted together.

Buffy groaned, "I *had* to ask."
 

PART 4
Spike had gone down to the kitchen to warm one of the bags of blood
Giles had sent over to the house, leaving Willow alone in the bedroom
only after she had insisted that she would be "very, very careful"
during his absence. She had waited until she heard him clattering
around downstairs before going to the bathroom to draw a bubble bath.
She stripped off her clothes and skimmed her fingertips over the warm,
soapy bubbles before stepping into the water and lowering herself down.
With a contented sigh, she relaxed back against the porcelain of the
tub and closed her eyes.

"Willow?" the loud shout from the bedroom shook her out of her quiet
thoughts. "Pet, where are you?"

"In here," her voice called back from behind the closed door. "I’m just
taking a bath, Spike."

"What?!" he yelled, and she jumped in alarm as he pushed the door open
and hurtled into the room. "Sweetheart! What the hell were you
thinking?"

"Um...I was dirty?" she squeaked.

"You could drown in there, little one," he scolded her gently as he
began to peel off his clothes.

"What are you DOING?" she hollered.

"Keeping you safe," he shrugged casually, as if the answer were
obvious.

Her eyes widened, and she scrambled to cover herself with her hands as
he stepped into the bathtub and plunked himself unceremoniously down so
that he was facing her, sending water splashing over the edge of the
tub.

"I--I--don’t need--"

"And you promised you’d be careful," he admonished her as he reached
for her arms and dragged her forward to him.

"But Spike, it’s only a bath! It isn’t dangerous!" she insisted, trying
to ignored the way his hands were moving over her bare back.

"It’s *water*, luv. You could drown," he repeated, then scooped up a
handful of bubbles and turned worried eyes on her. "Do you think these
are toxic?"

She giggled in spite of the exasperating situation, "Only if you eat
them."

"Oh, well, that’s all right then," he nodded. "If you’re sure."

"Very sure," she answered, grinning up into his eyes.

His soapy fingers traced a soft line along her cheek before drawing her
mouth to his for a long, gentle kiss. Instinctively, her arms moved
around his neck, and he placed his hands on her thighs and draped them
over his own and pulled her close into him. She moaned softly as his
hard cock slipped inside her, and he gripped her hips and guided her
movements as he began a slow rhythm.

Her wet hands skimmed the marbled flesh of his chest, her fingers
toying with his pebbled nipples, pinching them, rolling them between
her forefinger and thumb. Spike slid his hands up her back and lowered
his mouth to her warm, wet breasts, and he nipped at the soft mounds
and laved their delicate pink buds into straining peaks.

She bucked against him, wanting him deeper inside her, and he ran one
hand down her side to her tummy and lower, to capture the nub of her
clitoris between his fingers. She whimpered in pleasure as he tickled
the sensitive bundle of nerves, and her fingernails raked over his back
as he thrust harder into her. Her muscles tightened and her head
dropped back as she arched into him and came, screaming his name. He
nipped gently at her breast, careful not to leave a wound, and growled
as he erupted inside her tight channel.

Willow clung to him wearily, and he stroked her back and murmured
softly as her body slowly relaxed in his arms. He stood, lifting her
carefully, and the water cascaded off of their bodies as he bent to
release the plug in the drain before stepping out of the tub and
carrying her to the bedroom.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Spike stirred in the empty bed as Willow opened the door across the
room, "Where are you going, luv?"

"Breakfast. I’ll warm you some blood. How’s that sound?" He propped
himself up on one elbow, prepared to object, and she hastily added,
"I’ll be very careful. I promise."

"We know what happened the last time you made that promise," he
reminded her, clearly unconvinced.

"Oh...yeah," she murmured softly, mentally returning to that warm,
wonderful bubble bath, then blushed furiously and shook the thoughts
free. "No! No, I mean, I’ll be really careful this time. I won't cut
myself, or burn myself or...or...anything. Okay?"

Reluctantly he nodded, and she flashed him a quick, relieved smile and
darted out of the bedroom before he could change his mind.
Unfortunately for the redhead, her feet and the stairs conspired
against her, and she tripped on a rumple in the runner and tumbled down
three steps on her backside. She groaned and clutched at the railing as
she heard Spike jump from the bed, and in less than a minute, he was at
her side, clad in only his jeans, gripping her arm, and pulling her up
onto her feet.

"See? I told you," he shook his head reproachfully. "I knew this was a
bad idea."

"I just tripped," she explained. "There’s nothing to be--"

"Well," he ignored her with a slight shrug and scooped her up in his
arms. "There’s only one thing for it. No more stairs for you, little
one. I’ll just carry you up and down them from now on."

"Ohhh," she grumbled forlornly. "Do we have to?"

"Of course we do," he answered as if it were the most logical thing in
the world. "Besides, you fit right here just perfectly."

She dropped her head to his shoulder, resigned to her fate, and
silently cursed Riley for taking so damned long over retrieving that
stupid piece of equipment. Spike carried her down to the kitchen and
lowered her into a chair before opening the fridge. He plopped a bag of
blood onto the counter and left it to fish a tall glass from the
cupboard and fill it with milk.

He set it down in front of Willow, "There, that won’t burn you."

"But I don’t like milk," she complained, sounding remarkably like a
petulant child.

"It’s good for you, sweetheart. Makes your bones strong."

"Oh, please," she growled.

He arched an eyebrow and stabbed a finger at the glass, "Drink it.
Now."

"Yes, sir," she scowled and wrinkled her nose as she lifted the glass
to her lips.

He waited until she had taken a long swallow, then nodded in approval
and reached for the bag of blood and emptied it into a mug.

Willow sighed and took another drink from the glass, "I thought maybe
I’d meet Buffy for lunch today."

He whirled around, sloshing blood over the rim of the mug, and glared
at her menacingly.

Her green eyes widened, and she swallowed nervously, "Or...or...Buffy
could come over here instead. Actually a pizza delivery is sounding
pretty good."

The vampire relaxed and gave her a warm smile, "Best to be careful.
Can’t have you walking around Sunnyhell without me to protect you."

"Oh, no. We wouldn’t want that," she murmured and shook her head in
misery.
 

PART 5
Willow was sitting on the sofa where Spike had deposited her earlier
that morning. He had carried her up to the bedroom after breakfast,
where she had sputtered indignantly when he insisted on watching her as
she dressed. Just to make sure she didn’t get hurt. He had carried her
back down to the living room and hovered over her as she fetched the
newspaper from the front porch, then insisted that she sit close to him
on the sofa where he could protect her. That had gone all right until
she cut the tip of her index finger on the edge of the front page of
the newspaper.

"Willow!" Spike had gasped, clutching the finger as blood oozed from
the tiny slit in her skin.

"It’s just a paper cut, see? Not bad at all," she insisted as he
studied the slender finger for a moment before raising it to his lips
and licking the blood away.

He had made her promise to sit still while he ran to the bathroom and
returned with peroxide and gauze. That taken care of, he had grabbed
the newspaper from her lap and turned the pages for her while she read.
Since then, she had stared blindly at the television and silently
wished for someone to rescue her.

The doorbell rang, and she jumped to her feet, only to feel Spike’s
cold hand curl gently around her arm.

"Slowly," he cautioned her. "Don’t want you to fall."

She rolled her eyes and nodded obediently and walked with emphasized
slowness to the front door.

"Buffy!" she squealed in sheer delight as the slayer entered, balancing
a pizza box on one arm.

"How’s it going?" she asked, peeking around the redhead at the vampire
on the sofa.

"Don’t ask," Willow mumbled.

"That bad, huh?"

Willow nodded, "I’m not allowed to walk up and down the stairs,
anymore."

"Oh, brother," Buffy muttered with a small shake of her head before her
eyes registered the thick bandaged swathed around her friend’s
forefinger. "What happened?"

"Paper cut."

Buffy’s eyes widened, "All that? For a paper cut?!"

"Of course *you* wouldn’t bloody care if it got infected," Spike
growled as he rose to stand behind his little redhead. "Hell of a
friend you are."

Willow was eyeing the pizza box ravenously, "Smells good."

"Huh? Oh, yeah," Buffy nodded and followed the pair into the kitchen.

She placed the box on the table while Willow grabbed two sodas, plates
and napkins before sitting down across from the slayer. Spike snatched
away the slice of pizza she lifted from the box, and she looked up at
him, her brow furrowed in displeasure. He merely stared back at her and
plopped the pizza onto her plate, got a fork from the drawer and began
cutting the pizza into small pieces.

"What are you doing?" Buffy asked around a mouthful of food.

"She’ll choke," he scowled at her before skewering a bite-sized piece
of pizza and raising the fork to Willow’s lips. "Open."

"You are NOT going to feed me!" she refused, curling her hand around
the one holding the utensil.

"You hungry?" he asked.

"Oh, hell," she growled and parted her lips.

Buffy didn’t even bother trying to stifle her laughter as the blonde
vampire continued to feed Willow, much to the redhead’s chagrin.

"I told your professors you’ve come down with something nasty," the
slayer told Willow, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she stared at
the blonde vampire. "And I picked up your assignments."

"Thanks," Willow smiled gratefully. "I hope Riley--"

"I know," Buffy answered sympathetically as she polished off the last
slice of pizza and carried the empty box to the trash bin. "He thinks
he can get to Graham tonight. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and they’ll have
the diagnostic equipment by tomorrow."

"I’ll be a raving lunatic by that time," the redhead sighed.

"But you’ll be a well-protected raving lunatic," the slayer grinned.
"I’d better get going. I’ve got class in twenty minutes."

"Come back later? Please?" Willow pleaded. "With Valium?

"For which one of you?" Buffy laughed and let herself out the kitchen
door.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Spike had his feet propped up on the coffee table, his eyes glued to a
gory movie he’d happened to flip to on the TV. Willow was trying hard
to ignore the bloody images on the screen as the vampire’s arm curled
around her shoulders and squished her more firmly against his side. The
telephone rang from across the room, and she leapt to her feet, glad
for the distraction. Spike grabbed her hand before she could step away,
and she spun around to face him.

"It’s only the phone. It can’t hurt me, remember?"

"Yeah, I’ll admit I got carried away with that one," he nodded and
released her, watching intently as she lifted the receiver to her ear.
"It isn’t too loud, is it, pet? Won’t hurt your ear?"

She grinned and shook her head and spoke softly for a moment before
hanging up, "Riley and Buffy are over at Giles’ with the equipment. We
need to get over there so he can return it before anybody discovers
that it’s missing."

"All right, ducks," he consented, then bolted up off the sofa as she
headed toward the stairs.

She squealed as he swung her up into his arms and reminded her gruffly,
"NO stairs, little one."

"Sorry. Forgot," she muttered with a soft sigh as he started up to her
bedroom.

He shoved open the bedroom door and set her back down on her feet, and
she picked up her tennis shoes and sat down in the chair at her desk to
put them on. Spike was instantly on his knees in front of her, grabbing
at the laces.

"Oh, Goddess. What now?" she moaned.

"You could trip over these," he admonished her gently as he pulled the
untied laces out of each shoe.

"Spike! I won’t trip...you don’t have to...ooohhh!" she grumbled as he
tossed the laces into the trash bin and stuck the loose shoes on her
feet.

He looked up to see her scowling down at him, and he grinned and
brushed the hair from her eyes. He cupped her face and planted a firm
kiss on her lips before pulling her onto her feet and scooping her into
his arms to carry her back downstairs.
 

PART 6
Riley rose from the sofa, where he had been seated next to the blonde
vampire, and wandered over to Buffy as he frowned down at the read out
on the hand-held diagnostic device.

"Well, what’s wrong with him, besides the obvious?" the slayer
questioned, happily ignoring the scowl on Spike’s face.

"It’s the..." Riley’s mumble faded to silence as he poked at a button.
"...the...chip."

"No kidding," Willow grumbled, attempting to rise to her feet, only to
be tugged right back down beside Spike.

"Sorry," the young man smiled over at her, "I’ve just never seen
anything like this before."

"I know what you mean," Buffy nodded sympathetically and glanced over
at Spike. "Kind of nightmarish."

"Buffy," Giles admonished her around an amused grin and directed a
question at Riley. "Is that contraption actually telling you anything
useful?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "The implants were never designed for...active use.
They were basically just a means to render the hostiles harmless so
they could be studied with relative safety. But Spike’s been free for
quite awhile, now, and from what Buffy tells me, he hasn’t exactly been
idle."

"Are you saying something happened to the chip during a fight with a
demon?" Buffy asked.

"Could be, but I think it's more likely that the results occurred over
time," he answered. "The malfunction has to do with the impulses the
chip is sending to Spike’s brain. Originally, it was programmed to
prohibit endangering any human, even at the risk of endangering his own
existence. But the natural instinct for self-preservation is very
basic, and very strong, in any type of creature. Spike has had to learn
to adapt--in several creative ways, I imagine--since he escaped from
the lab. I guess you could say that, while the chip has been sending
out signals to his brain, the primal instinct for survival in Spike’s
mind has been feeding signals of its own right back."

The slayer tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and frowned up at
him, "Could we have the Cliff notes version, please? You’re giving me a
headache."

Riley put down the device and looked over at the couple on the sofa,
"The signal has changed from protecting humans that come in contact
with Spike to protecting one human in particular--Willow--from being
harmed by anything the implant detects as a threat."

"Including himself?" Giles asked.

The man nodded, "He can’t hurt her, but he could hurt anyone else.
Which is why he was able to hit Xander. Spike thought he was going to
hurt Willow."

"So, he can kill again?" Buffy asked anxiously.

"Generally speaking, no. Unless the person is threatening Willow. In
which case, yes, I think he probably can."

"I don’t get it," the redhead confessed. "How did I end up winning the
lifetime use of my own personal, lethally-fanged bodyguard?"

Riley looked uneasily at Buffy.

"What?" she asked. "Come on. We have to know all of it."

He nodded, "Because his primary concern since he escaped from the lab
has been to protect Willow. It may have been completely subconscious,
and he may never even have admitted it to himself, but Spike’s instinct
to survive, in spite of the difficulties caused by the chip, have
included making sure Willow is safe, too."

"It has?" Willow asked softly, smiling up at Spike.

"It has?" Buffy echoed, looking slightly ill. "So, you can fix it now,
right?"

"Possibly, but not without taking him to the lab," he answered. "I'm
not sure how much good it would do, though. The implant has basically
reprogrammed itself based on the stimulus it’s been receiving from
Spike’s brain."

"Well, just un-reprogram it!" the slayer demanded.

Riley sighed and took her hand, "It doesn’t work like that, Buffy. Even
if I could--and getting him into the lab without being discovered would
be pretty much impossible--the process would just begin all over again,
and Willow would end up right back where she is now."

Giles looked over at the vampire who had snuggled Willow ever closer to
him. Spike seemed to be completely unconcerned about Riley’s
explanation; he was currently entranced by the rich red tresses of hair
that were gliding like spun silk through his fingertips. The ex-watcher
shrugged and turned toward the kitchen, much to the slayer’s obvious
displeasure.

"Are you sure there isn’t *anything* we can do about this?" she asked
her boyfriend.

He shook his head, "Aside from taking out the chip...and we all know
what the consequences of that would be."

"It’s okay, Buffy. It isn’t that bad," Willow purred and rested her
head against Spike’s shoulder as he continued to play with her hair.

The vampire smiled and cupped her chin, turning her face to his and
placing a long, soft kiss on her lips. Buffy clutched Riley’s hand and
began dragging him toward the front door.

"We’d better get that equipment back to Graham before someone discovers
it’s missing," she suggested, trying to quell the nauseating little
flip flops her stomach was doing while Spike’s lips were attached to
her best friend’s.

"We should get you home, too, pet," he said, pulling Willow up onto her
feet.

Buffy groaned softly and rolled her eyes as Spike’s arm slid firmly
around his redhead’s waist and pulled her into his side.
 

PART 7
By the time Willow and Spike returned to her house, the full impact of
what Riley had told them had finally sunk into the redhead’s rattled
brain. Spike was capable of hurting. People. If Riley’s explanation
were correct, and she could find no reason to doubt it, the vampire
wasn’t a danger to her own safety, but he was to those that she cared
about. Like Xander, for instance. The idea frightened her beyond words.
If any of her friends were hurt--or worse, killed--because of some
misguided need Spike might feel to protect her, she didn’t know how she
would ever live with it.

Spike had tugged off his clothes, leaving them scattered about the
floor, while Willow had ferreted out another T-shirt and put it on,
then began pacing restlessly at the foot of her bed. He crawled under
the blankets and patted the mattress invitingly.

"I can’t," she shook her head. "I’m not tired."

"Of course you are, luv," he argued. "You’re just wound up. C’mere."

He leaned forward and grabbed her wrist, pulling her over the end of
the bed and catching her about the waist to haul her warm body up
beside his. Ignoring her unhappy squirming, he pulled the covers over
the two of them and wrapped his arms snugly around her.

She sighed and rested her head against his chest, and he smiled and
kissed her forehead and gently stroked her hair, "Close your eyes, pet.
I’ll tell you a story."

"You’re a vampire. You don’t tell bedtime stories," she grumbled.

"Says who?" he asked. "Close your eyes."

With one more heavy sigh, she did as he asked, and his hand resumed its
gentle, calming motions through her hair.

"Once upon a time," she mumbled after a long moment of silence.

"Uh...yeah," he nodded. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young
redhead who lived all alone in a cold empty castle. A tall, blonde,
good-looking bloke lived in the village not far from the castle, and
one night he happened upon the beautiful redhead as she was walking
about in her gardens. From the moment he laid eyes on this amazing
creature strolling amongst the flowers, all the tall, blonde,
good-looking bloke could think about was shagging her senseless."

Willow opened one eye and looked up at him, giggling softly. He pressed
a cold finger to her lips and shook his head, and Willow’s eye
obediently snapped shut.

"Problem was, there were two nasty ogres, Slutty and Xapper, who lived
just the other side of the castle walls," Spike continued. "The tall,
blonde, good-looking bloke knew that if he didn’t avoid them, they’d
corner him and annoy him to death. Fortunately, neither one of the
ogres was very bright, and it didn’t take long for the handsome man to
capture the idiots and--"

"Spike," Willow’s soft voice spoke threateningly as she opened both
eyes and tilted her head up to him.

"Shhh," he whispered, dropping a kiss on her lips and waiting until she
hesitantly closed her eyes again. "It didn’t take long for him to
capture the idiots and throw them into a nearby bog, where they whined
and babbled and just generally drove each other into an even greater
stupor then they were normally in."

"That isn’t very nice, Spike," she scolded, but he could feel her lips
curling into a grin against his chest.

"So, anyway, this tall, blonde good-looking bloke, raced back to the
castle, climbed over the wall, and landed with stealthy grace right in
front of the beautiful princess," he continued.

"He would," she mumbled dryly.

"Hey, you insulting me?" he asked.

"Me? Never," she laughed softly. "Go on."

Spike cuddled her closer in his arms, "The beautiful princess took one
look at the tall, blonde, good-looking bloke, and was consumed with
desire. Before he knew what was happening, she flung herself into his
arms, ripped off his clothes, and threw him to the ground."

"She did not!" Willow gasped.

"Did, too," he insisted. "Now hush. The handsome man was overcome with
joy, and he carried the princess inside, where she begged him to fuck
her in each of the two hundred rooms in the cold, dark castle."

"Yikes," Willow murmured.

Spike chuckled softly, "Of course, the tall, blonde, good-looking bloke
would never consider ignoring the princess’ commands--"

"Of course," she snorted.

"Within seconds, her beautiful gown lay in a puddle on the floor, and
he drew his princess close to him and--"

"He scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom, where
they made passionate love," Willow interrupted yet again.

He arched an eyebrow, "Who’s telling this story?"

"Sorry," she whispered contritely.

He placed a kiss on her head and went on, "The tall, blonde,
good-looking bloke swept up his princess and carried her into the
banquet room. Clearing the table with a sweep of his arm, he lowered
her down and looked into her lovely green eyes. ‘Appetizer,’ he
whispered, his voice full of promise, and entered her completely in one
quick, powerful thrust."

"Ouch," Willow commented.

"Uh uh," he shook his head. "Within moments, the beautiful princess was
screaming his name as he ravished her with lusty abandon."

"The best kind of abandon," she nodded slightly.

Spike laughed softly and raised her hand to his lips, "Their satisfied
cries filled the castle as he proceeded to lead her from room to room,
christening each in their sticky juices. And by the first rays of the
sun, he was holding a very tired and thoroughly-fucked beautiful
princess in his arms."

"First rays of the sun? And he didn’t turn to tall, blonde,
good-looking ashes?"

"Fortunately, they’d finished their shag-fest in the castle dungeon. No
windows," he answered.

"Ah, smart bloke," she grinned.

"And the beautiful princess and the tall, blonde, good-looking bloke
lived nakedly ever after in coital bliss," he concluded.

Willow’s eyelids fluttered open once more as she looked up at him, her
cheeks faintly flushed.

"That was supposed to lull you to sleep," he sighed in disappointment.

She raised herself up, her lips a mere breath above his, and whispered
softly, "It didn’t."

Her mouth stopped the grin that had begun to curl his lips, and she
kissed him, hard, her tongue darting hungrily inside to tangle with
his. Spike moaned and rolled her onto the mattress, and he swept the
T-shirt off of her body and gently spread her legs to plunge his hard
cock between her wet folds.
 

PART 8
Willow started as the alarm clock on the bedside table buzzed loudly,
and she swatted at the snooze button and curled closer against the cold
body sleeping next to her. Ten minutes passed before the annoying buzz
roused her again with a pathetic little whine. Spike snarled softly,
reached out with a tight fist, and clobbered the offensive clock. It
whistled a quiet, sickening death-cry before falling permanently
silent, and Willow grinned to herself as Spike’s arm wrapped itself
firmly around her again.

"Spike?" she spoke close to his ear.

"Mmmm?" he responded, his eyes still closed.

"I have to get up, now. I have classes, and--"

"No."

"You can’t ‘no’ me, Spike! I can’t miss anymore--"

He opened one eye and peered at the little redhead, "They have stairs
on that campus?"

"Oh, hell," she muttered.

"And strange men?" he added.

"*Strange* men?" she repeated, looked pointedly at him.

He chuckled and nuzzled against her warm neck, "You can’t wander around
that place without me, pet. And I can’t go out in daylight, so...."

She tried, unsuccessfully, to raise herself up on one elbow, "But..."

"Nope."

"But..."

"Give it up, sweetheart. It ain’t gonna happen. Go back to sleep."

"I’m not tired anymore!" she told him.

The vampire growled playfully and nipped at her throat with blunt
teeth, "Want me to do something about that?"

She giggled and tangled her fingers through his hair, drawing back just
a little to look at him, "Spike, listen to me. I really have to get
back to my classes. I’ll be careful. I promise. I’ll even have Buffy
walk me to all of them, and I’ll come right home after the last one
this
afternoon."

He growled unhappily, "Willow--"

"You don’t want me to miserable, do you?" she quickly added. "I will be
if I miss so much that I don’t pass my courses. I can’t stay locked
away with you everyday. You know that isn’t possible. I’m human! There
are things I *have* to do--out there--in the sunlight!"

Grudgingly, he conceded the point and released his stubborn hold on the
redhead, "You’ll call me. Every hour? Because if you don’t, I won’t
agree to this again."

"I’ll call," she quickly agreed as she scooted off of the bed. "Thanks,
Spike. I’m going to go grab a quick shower."

He smiled, his eyes following the gentle sway of her hips as she went
to the door, and he pushed himself up, "Wait for me, luv. You might
slip and fall."

Willow shook her head hopelessly as his quick footsteps sounded behind
her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Wow, Will! What happened to you?" Buffy asked as she came through the
dorm room door. "You look like you fell in a vat of red paint."

The redhead grimaced as she peered at herself in the mirror, "My
afternoon class was canceled, so I thought I’d catch some sun."

"Literally, buy the looks of it," her friend grinned.

"I fell asleep," Willow sighed. "*Why* did I have to go and fall
asleep? I look like a lobster."

"Look on the bright side. At least Spike won’t be able to--"

"Spike!" she squeaked. "Oh, Goddess! He’s going to freak when he sees
this!"

"That could be interesting," Buffy nodded. "Considering the way he
bandaged your little paper cut, you’ll probably end up as the world’s
only living mummy when he gets through with you this time."

"Oh, damn," she muttered, wincing as the clothing rubbed against her
hot skin as she turned to face her. "Buffy, you have to come with me--"

"No way," the slayer shook her head emphatically.

"Please! Buffy, I--"

"I love you, Wills. You’re my best friend in the whole world," she
giggled. "But there’s no way in hell I’m going to be around when he
goes all mental over this one. Anyway, I’m meeting Riley for dinner in
thirty minutes. Just remind Spike that you need a couple of air holes
to breathe through when he starts wrapping you up."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Willow? That you, pet?" Spike’s voice shouted from the kitchen as the
redhead shut the front door behind her.

She swallowed against the butterflies flitting through her stomach and
called back, "Yeah."

"Where the hell have you been? You haven’t phoned me since--" the
blonde vampire's angry tirade ceased as he came out of the kitchen,
laid eyes on her reddened face, and crossed quickly over to her.
"Bloody hell, luv! What happened? Are you sick?"

"No, I’m fine. It’s just--" she stopped with a pained gasp as he placed
his hand on her forehead.

"You’re practically on fire, sweetheart," he announced with alarm,
shuffling her quickly over to the sofa. "Just lie down here while I--"

"No, Spike, it’s just--"

"Don’t argue with me," he growled, and she cried out as he dragged her
feet up onto the cushions and pushed her firmly back. "Damn. You’re in
pain, as well. Now, be still. I’ll be right back."

Ignoring her protests he took off up the stairs and bounded back down
them a few moments later with a thermometer in one hand and a bottle of
aspirin in the other.

"Please, listen to mmmph!" she grunted as he stabbed the thermometer
between her lips and gently pushed her mouth shut.

With a warning glare, he quickly went to the kitchen and returned with
a tall glass of water. He knelt beside her and opened the aspirin,
spilling out two of the tablets into his hand. Willow sighed in
frustration as he pressed a cool palm against her flushed forehead,
scowling at the heat that radiated off of her flesh. He plucked the
thermometer from her mouth and looked closely at it.

"Strange. No fever. But you’re burning up," he murmured.

"I’m okay, really, Spike," she insisted around the aspirin he popped
into her open mouth. "I’ve been trying to tell you. It’s just a
sunburn. I fell asleep, and--"

"A sunburn? And it hurts that badly, luv? Let’s see," he remarked,
batting away her hands as she tried to intercept the fingers that had
moved toward the buttons on her shirt.

She groaned as he unbuttoned the garment and shoved it off her
shoulders. The white of her bra contrasted starkly against her red
shoulders and neckline, and she flinched as he gently placed his cool
hands on her overly-sensitive skin. Arching a displeased eyebrow at
her, he scooped her up in his arms, bringing another sharp cry of pain
from her lips, and carried her toward the stairs and up to the
bathroom. He turned on the water and adjusted it so it was cool but not
too cold. After carefully unclothing her, he lifted her into the
filling tub, and she closed her eyes as the soothing water surrounded
her flushed body. He knelt beside the tub and reached for a washcloth
and plunged it into the water, wringing it out before dabbing it along
her heated brow and cheeks.

"You’re really not very good at being careful, are you, pet?" he asked
softly, recalling her earlier promise to him.

"I know. I’m sorry," she murmured as prickly tears sprung to her eyes.

"Shhh," he whispered, placing a soft kiss on her lips. "It’s all right.
I’m here, now. Don’t cry, luv. I’ll have you fixed up in no time. Looks
like I’m not the only one who should be avoiding the sun. Though in my
case, I’d be even crispier than you are."

She attempted a weak smile, "You’re not going to mummify me, are you?"

He turned puzzled eyes on her.

"That’s what Buffy said," she giggled.

"Ah, well, consider the source, then," he grinned. "Have you got
something I can put on this?"

She nodded, "There’s anesthetic lotion in the cabinet."

After another quick kiss, he rose to his feet and rummaged around in
the cabinet over the sink and extracted a tube of lotion. He helped her
to her feet and wrapped a thick towel around her, then handed her the
tube and lifted her carefully in his arms to carry her to the bedroom.
He perched her on the edge of the bed, and her blush was lost in her
already reddened skin as he peeled away the towel and uncapped the
lotion. The chill of his fingers and the cool, silky ointment felt
amazingly good against her burned arms, legs, and shoulders.

He smiled at her as she leaned into his touch, "Feel better?"

"A little," she nodded.

He draped a gentle arm around her waist and drew her up to flick back
the covers, then lowered her down onto the cool sheets, and she sighed
wearily.

"Want something to drink?" he offered.

"Maybe later," she answered. "Stay with me for awhile?"

"Longer than that," he promised softly, pulling off his clothes and
joining her under the sheet. "Think you can sleep?"

Yeah," she nodded as he moved against her, and she reveled in the
coolness of his body against her sunburned skin. "Thanks, Spike."

He placed a kiss on her hot forehead and stroked her hair until he felt
her relax against him as she drifted off to sleep.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Willow awoke with a grimace and felt a strong arm reach around her as
she tried to sit up in the bed. Spike smiled down at her as he sat
beside her and placed a glass of ice water against her parched lips.
She took a long swallow and returned the smile as he lowered the
glass to kiss her softly. He fished an ice cube out of the glass before
setting it aside, and she gasped as he trailed the ice along her hot
throat and shoulders and down to the valley of her breasts. The pain
from his caresses mingled with the soothing chill of the ice cube, and
her nipples hardened into delicate pebbles as he outlined each breast
in turn.

Spike lowered himself over her, propping himself on one elbow, and his
tongue darted out to follow the wet trail that shimmered against her
soft, heated flesh. The cube melted quickly against the warmth of her
skin, and his wet fingers cupped her breast as his lips took one of her
nipples, suckling gently at it as he rolled it over his deliciously
cool tongue. She arched into him, gripping his shoulders as he kissed
his way up her throat to her parted lips. Her scent filled his senses
as their tongues flicked against one another’s and her juices seeped
from her core as he deepened the kiss.

Mindful of her painful burns, he entered her slowly, her breasts barely
grazing his hard chest as he carefully kept the weight of his body off
of her. Her pelvis ground against him, and he chuckled against her
mouth in response to her impatience. He began a slow rhythm inside her,
and her hands skimmed along his back to cup his ass. She whimpered at
the friction of the sheets against her sore upper back, and he kissed
her shoulders, the hollow of her throat, each of her breasts, as his
movements quickened and grew deeper. Willow’s fingers found his hair,
gripping it tightly as she drew his lips back to hers. The pain from
the sunburn was eclipsed by the mind-numbing tightness building inside
her as his hand slid between their joined bodies to capture the nub of
her clit and massage it with practiced fingers.

She panted softly beneath him, his name whispering out on each breath
of air, and her body stiffened as her climax washed over her, causing
her walls to constrict around him, drawing him into his own orgasm only
a scant second later. He kissed her deeply before moving off of her and
pulling her gently against him once more. One hand draped around her
hip to rest against her firm ass as the other caressed her warm
shoulder with cool, soft touches. She purred against him, placing light
kisses along his throat, and he coaxed her back to sleep before
slipping from the bed to go to the kitchen to fix her something to
eat.
 

PART 9
Spike grinned as Willow ran a brush through her hair and stepped back
from the dresser to look appraisingly at herself. It had taken his
little redhead nearly an hour to persuade him, but he had finally
agreed that they could meet the others at the Bronze. The little squeal
of delight and the hard smack she had impulsively placed on his lips
had been reward enough for his capitulation.

"How do I look?" she asked, doing a quick twirl that made the short
skirt she had chosen do a tantalizing little flip. "It isn’t too short,
is it? I mean, I don’t usually--"

"You’re gorgeous, luv," he answered casually as if the answer were a
given.

She beamed over at him before pulling open the bedroom door and
resigning herself to wait while he scooped her up into his arms to
carry her downstairs. He settled her on the sofa before going to the
kitchen to warm a mug of blood. Willow kicked off her sandals and
plucked up a bottle of nail polish from the coffee table and unscrewed
the cap. The vampire leaned against the doorjamb and watched as she
painted a toenail, her tongue firmly clasped between her teeth as she
concentrated on her task. Spike went to her and set down his mug of
blood to take the brush out of her fingers.

"Put that back in your mouth," he grinned, leaning forward to nip at
the tip of her tongue. "Before I find something much more interesting
to do with it."

Willow squeaked and blushed crimson as her tongue darted back inside
her mouth, and he chuckled and plopped down beside her, turning her
sideways and pulling her left foot onto his lap. Her eyes widened as he
proceeded to paint her toenails. With a quick upward glance, he caught
her staring at him in mute surprise, and he grinned.

"If we’re actually going to meet Slutty and her roving band of
marauding idiots tonight--"

"If?" she repeated, suddenly worried. "But you said--"

"And I meant it," he nodded. "But we need a few ground rules, first."

She eyed him warily, "What kind of ground rules?"

"First of all, there will be no dancing with strangers."

"How about Xander, does he count?" she wanted to know.

"Doesn’t get much stranger than that git," he nodded, ignoring the
reproachful scowl she gave him as he finished with her left foot and
gently removed it from his lap to replace it with her right. "I also
reserve the right to pound on anyone who makes a pass at you."

"Oh, hell. This is going to be fun," she muttered, though she couldn’t
help grinning at his forceful declaration. "You aren’t going to make me
just sit in a chair all night, are you?"

"Of course not, pet," he answered. "You can dance all you like--with
me. And only slow dances. None of that convulsive flailing about on a
dance floor filled with boneless village idiots."

"Spike," she grumbled. "I’ve been dancing for years--"

"And *I* have no intention of waiting until you get yourself hurt
before I put a stop to it," he informed her. "So, if you want to dance,
you’ll do it close to me, where I can keep you safe. Understood?"

"Uh huh," she agreed, deciding to be happy that he agreed to let her go
out at all.

"That’s my girl," he grinned and lifted her foot to plant a kiss on the
tip of her big toe before recapping the nail polish and setting it
aside and retrieving the cooling mug of blood, quickly downing its
contents.

A warm tingle sparkled through the redhead at his words, and she swung
both feet up onto the coffee table to inspect the lavender-colored
toenails that matched the little pansies scattered over the fabric of
her skirt.

"You do a great pedicure," she announced, wiggling her toes in
approval.

He smiled and stood, pulling her up with him, "Are we ready, then,
luv?"

"Ready," she nodded, carefully shuffling her feet back into her
sandals.

They left the house, and he reached for her hand, folding it firmly in
his as she began to step off the curb.

"Always check for traffic," he rebuked her. "Keep hold of my hand, pet,
and let me go first."

"Yes, sir," she grumbled, feeling very much like a five-year old on her
first day of kindergarten.

He grinned at her petulant tone and gave her a quick, hard kiss before
leading her off in the direction of the Bronze.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Hey, Wills," Xander shouted over the loud music as the couple came
through the door and approached their table.

"Hi, Xander," she smiled in return. "Where is everyone?"

"Anya’s getting a drink. Buffy and Riley are out there," he waved a
hand toward the large crowd of people gyrating wildly on the dance
floor. "Want to dance?"

Spike snarled softly as his arm snaked around the redhead’s waist, his
palm resting securely on her flat tummy.

"Or not," the young man quickly decided.

She tilted her head slightly backward and looked up at the blonde
vampire, "I think we’ll just wait for something a bit--slower."

He plopped down into a chair, pulling her onto his lap, and planted a
kiss on her head, "First one, sweetheart. I promise."

Xander paled as a wave of nausea hit him, and Spike glared over at him
as the young man coughed back the urge to gag. Willow, content just to
be there with her friends, shifted more comfortably against the vampire
as Buffy and Riley appeared.

"Hey, you’re here--finally!" the slayer grinned at the redhead.
"Um...did you bring a leash for your watch vampire?"

Spike scowled and looked pointedly at her while speaking to Riley, "Did
you bring a muzzle for your bitch?"

"Okay, guys," Willow sighed, then looked hopefully at the blonde
vampire as the band segued into the next song. "Oh, listen! They’re
playing something slower! That’s slower, Spike, right?"

He smiled and slid her off his lap to grab hold of her hand, "C’mon,
luv."

Anya wandered back to the table, the drink in her hand temporarily
forgotten as she watched Spike lead Willow out onto the dance floor,
wrapping his arms around her and pulling her flush against his body.

"Wow," she muttered overtop of the music. "I didn’t know two people
could be that physically close without actually copulating."

Buffy’s eyebrows shot up, and Xander jumped up from his chair and
grabbed for Anya’s hand, "Okay, there’s a mental image I do *not* want
to indulge in."

The ex-demon smiled broadly as he pulled her away from the table and
out amongst the slowly swaying bodies on the dance floor.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Spike’s arm consciously tightened around Willow as he pinned his cold
eyes on the dark-haired man who had been eyeing the vampire’s redhead
since they had moved onto the dance floor. The stranger had risen twice
from his chair, only to be stopped from approaching her by Spike’s
murderous stare. As the song ended, he grabbed her wrist and quickly
led her back to their table and dragged her down onto his lap as he
sat. A waitress approached with a tray of drinks and set a beer down in
front of the vampire, who raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Thought you might need it," Riley explained.

"Thanks, mate," he nodded before taking a long swallow from the tall
glass.

The waitress set down the other drinks, including a fruity-looking
concoction for the redhead.

"From the gentleman in the corner," the woman said waving a hand toward
the man across the room. "With his compliments."

"Th-thanks," Willow stammered over the low growl rumbling in the back
of Spike’s throat that sent the waitress quickly scurrying away from
their table.

The vampire picked up the drink and eyed it contemptuously before
turning and handing it to a pimply-faced, slightly buck-toothed girl
sitting at the table adjacent to theirs.

"Compliments of *him*," Spike said, flashing a glance at the man across
the room, who was watching the exchange in open-mouthed shock. "The
bloke wants to dance with you, but he’s too shy to ask."

The young woman squealed in eager surprise as her companions sitting
with her giggled excitedly. Willow shook her head and laughed softly as
he shifted back around, his arm still tucked firmly around her.

"Just doing my bit to help humanity," he shrugged before dropping a
soft kiss on her lips.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Spike could hear the man’s heartbeat as he followed the vampire and
Willow out of the Bronze and down the street. The redhead glanced
nervously up at him as she felt his hand tighten around hers.

"Bloody moron," he growled, quickly whirling around and placing himself
between her and the young man who had been eyeing her all evening.

"I never got my turn with the lady," the man grinned, swaying ever so
slightly as he grinned salaciously around Spike at Willow.

"Spike, don’t," she spoke softly as the vampire took a step forward.
"He’s drunk."

"He’s about to become a dead drunk," he snapped back, his eyes fixed on
the young man. "Bugger off. She’s mine."

The man snorted derisively and attempted to reach around him for the
redhead, "I don’t see any sign on her."

"You want a sign?" the vampire asked, clamping a strong hand around the
man’s wrist. "How’s *this* for a sign?"

"No! Please!" Willow pleaded as Spike tore his hand away from hers,
snarling as his human features slid away.

The man screamed shrilly, and Willow’s soft gasp was followed by an
uncontrollable giggle as a wet patch suddenly spread along the front of
the man’s pants. The redhead reached for the vampire’s hand, clutching
it firmly as the teenaged girl to whom Spike had given the drink
intended for Willow stepped out of the Bronze, followed by her two
young
friends, and turned in their direction.

"Rob?" the girl called out.

"Spike, you don’t have to kill him. He hasn’t hurt me," Willow said as
the three young women approached.

The blonde vampire smirked at the red-faced man and stepped away from
him, curling his arm around Willow’s waist, "All right, pet. This time,
for you, the pisser gets to live. Time to get you home, anyway."

"Thank you," she smiled as she turned beside him to walk away.

From behind them, they could hear the young woman’s voice as she
stopped in front of the object of her affections, "Rob? What’s wrong.
What were they--what happened to--oh gods! Did you--Ewww!"

Willow snorted and turned slightly and buried her face in Spike’s
shoulder, her body shaking with laughter as the man behind them groaned
in abject mortification and quickly ran away in the opposite direction.
 

PART 10
Willow awoke to the sound of birds chirping outside the window and
realized she was alone in the bed. She sat up and blinked at the alarm
clock she had borrowed from her parents’ bedroom, then squinted around
the drape-darkened room for any sign of Spike. A relaxed sigh parted
her lips as she realized she was truly alone, at least for the moment.

Sliding out of the bed, she rummaged around in her dresser and pulled
out a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, wondering as she got dressed why
the house was so abnormally quiet when she had no doubt that Spike
hadn’t gone very far. She ran a brush through her hair and turned
toward the door, reaching for the knob at the same moment that it
opened from the other side. Willow cried out as the wooden door cracked
solidly against her head.

"Willow!" Spike’s voice shouted as she lost her balance and landed with
a loud thud on the floor. "Oh, pet. Bloody hell."

Shoving the glass of orange juice in his hand onto the dresser, he
knelt beside her and propped her against his chest and brushed her hair
away from the darkening bruise on her forehead that was bleeding ever
so slightly.

"I’m okay," she murmured around the spinning vision of the blonde
vampire holding her close to him.

His cold lips placed fluttering kisses along her temple and cheek as he
cooed softly to her, "I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’d never hurt you. Oh,
luv. You’re in pain."

"No, it’s not so bad," she shook her head and immediately regretted the
action as a stab of pain shot behind her eyes. "Owww."

"Shhh," he whispered, lifting her up in his arms and carrying her over
to the bed. "Oh, damn, baby. I’ve probably given you a concussion or
some bloody thing. Just lie still here, pet."

She reached for him as he moved to scramble off the bed, "Spike,
don’t--"

"Hush, sweetheart," he pushed her firmly back against the pillows and
took off out of the room.

"Oh, hell," she muttered, closing her eyes as the ceiling above her
spun in nauseating circles.

Spike returned, his arms laden with first aid supplies, to hear her
soft whimper as the redhead tried to will away the queasy little
flip-flops in her stomach. He grabbed up the glass of orange juice and
went quickly over to her. Popping the top off the bottle of aspirin he
had brought with him, he helped her sit up and handed her two tablets,
followed by the glass of juice.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"Shhh," he repeated, shoving her gently back down and reaching for the
wet cloth he had also brought in.

He dabbed at the bruise on her forehead, groaning miserably at her
quiet gasp of pain. Her eyes met his, and she tried a weak smile.

"Buffy is never going to believe it when I tell her I ran into a door,"
she grinned.

"Why not?" he asked.

She started to shrug, and quickly stopped herself as her head throbbed
in response, "Isn’t that the clichéd old excuse all battered spouses
are supposed to give their friends?"

The vampire's eyes teared sorrowfully, "Oh, bloody hell. Willow, luv,
I’d never hurt you, and now you think I'm a--"

"No, I don’t," she smiled. "It was an accident. And we aren’t even
spouses."

"Would it make you feel better if we were?" he offered, carefully
holding the cold cloth against her head.

Willow giggled, then groaned, then frowned sadly as a red tear trickled
from Spike’s eye, "Don’t feel bad, Spike. You didn’t mean for it to
happen. You just need to not be so stealthy when you’re being
all...stealthy. Maybe you should sing when you’re lurking about. Then
again, I was lurking, too. I could whistle if it would help. Do
vampires even have spouses? Because you could hardly go to a church,
could you? And a vampire justice of the peace just doesn’t
seem...right."

Spike alternately sniffled and chuckled at the ramblings from the
rattle-brained little redhead. She smiled up at him, wincing slightly
at the pain in her head, and he leaned forward, and cupped her face,
one hand still clasping the wet cloth, and placed a soft kiss on her
lips.

"Think you can sleep, little one?" he asked.

"Yeah, sleep would be good," she nodded.

He brushed his fingertips over her cheek, and waited until her eyes
closed before rising from the bed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Willow awoke two hours later to the sound of pounding coming from down
the hall. The pain in her head had receded to a persistent ache, and
her forehead was terribly sore to the touch as she tentatively brushed
her fingers over the tender bruise, but the room had stopped spinning,
and her stomach had stopped lurching. She pushed herself up and draped
her legs over the side of the bed, groaning softly as she moved
carefully. Spike immediately appeared in the open doorway, a hammer
dangling from his left hand.

"How are you feeling, baby?" he asked as he moved quickly over to her.

"Better," she answered. "Hungry, actually."

"You lie back down. I’ll go fix you something."

"I’d rather go downstairs, please," she requested.

"You’re sure you feel up to it?"

"I’m sure," she smiled, brushing her fingertips over the bruise on her
head. "It doesn’t hurt so much, anymore. Honestly."

Spike kissed her softly, and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he
laid the hammer on the bed and lifted her up. He carried her down to
the kitchen and settled her into a chair, and her eyes followed him as
he set about making her a sandwich. When he was finished, he handed it
over to her and returned to the fridge to get the jug of milk.

"Spike, couldn’t I have a soda, instead?" she asked.

He looked over at her, his gaze resting mournfully on the swelling lump
above her eye and nodded his consent. He poured her a glass of diet
cola and sat down next to her.

"Aren’t you eating?" she asked. "There must be lots of blood in the--"

"Not hungry," he told her.

"Aw, Spike," she whispered, reaching over to place her warm hand on
his. "Don’t feel so bad. It’s just a little bump. It’ll be better in a
couple of days."

He clasped her hand in both of his and raised it to his lips, "I’m
sorry, baby. I’d never, ever--"

"I know," she smiled. "Accidents happen, Spike. All of the time."

His eyes grew dark with resolve, "Well, that one won’t ever happen
again."

"What do you mean?" she asked around a mouthful of sandwich, eyeing him
uneasily.

"I’ve taken care of that bloody little hazard," he answered.

"Taken care of--" her eyes widened anxiously. "Spike, what were you
doing with that hammer?"

"Taking the doors of their hinges," he answered.

"What?!" she squealed, then winced in pain. "What doors! Where?"

"All of them. Everywhere," he shrugged.

"But Spike--"

"Willow," he hushed her, pulling her over onto his lap and holding her
tight against him. "Take it easy, luv. I know, now, that I should have
done it sooner. Your door is the last, though. They’ll never hurt you
again. *I’ll* never hurt you again. I promise."

With a groan of frustration, the redhead lowered her head to her hands,
gasping as her fingers pressed against her bruised forehead.

"Be careful, pet!" he scolded, pulling her hands away, and he waited
for her to resume eating, which she didn’t. "Had enough, luv?"

"More than enough," she grumbled.

"Good," he smiled brightly and gave her a soft kiss. "Back to bed with
you, then."

"I don’t want to--"

"Hush," he commanded, standing up with her in his arms to retrace his
steps to her bedroom. "Be good, and I’ll tell you a story--"

"A fairy tale?" she asked hopefully.

He grinned, "Well, sort of. Did I ever tell you about the time I
brained Angelus with a door? Actually, it was on a safe--one of those
big iron doors? And I knew he was standing right behind it."

"You didn’t," the redhead giggled as he settled her under the covers
and kicked off his boots to climb in beside her.

He put his arm around her and scooted her close to him, "You take a
good look at him the next time the poof comes around."

She tilted her chin to look up at him, "A good look?"

"Yeah. Then ask him why is nose is just *slightly* crooked," he
chuckled, placing a kiss on the tip of her own nose.

"Spike," she laughed softly, snuggling comfortably against him.
"Goddess, you even make a headache bearable."

He dropped a kiss on her head and tightened his arms around her as she
drifted to sleep, an amused grin still curling her lips.
 

PART 11
"Thanks, Buffy," Willow whispered as the slayer dragged her footlocker
through the front door and banged it down in the living room beside the
large suitcase the redhead had set down.

"No problem," Buffy smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"Why?" Spike’s alarmed voice questioned from the top of the stairs, and
Willow flashed her friend a worried look as his footsteps came quickly
thumping down. "What’s wrong with her?"

"I told her not to go swimming before her last final," Buffy answered
as the vampire moved directly to Willow’s side. "She sat in that air
conditioned room for an hour, and now--laryngitis."

Spike’s eyebrows shot up, and he grasped Willow’s shoulders and turned
her to face him.

"It’s no biggie," she croaked around a reassuring smile.

She winced as she swallowed painfully, and his grip tightened as he
looked frantically over at the slayer, "How do I make it go away?"

"You can’t," Buffy shrugged. "It pretty much has to run its own
coarse."

"But she’s *hurting*!" the vampire shouted as close to hysteria as the
slayer had ever heard him. "I can’t just not--"

Buffy bit back her laughter, "She’ll be fine, Spike. It’ll probably be
gone by tomorrow. She just needs to keep quiet and maybe get some
sleep. There really isn’t anything we can do."

"Oh, hell--"

"I’ll be okay, Spike," Willow rasped.

"Oh, hell," he repeated and kissed her lips softly. "There has to be
something--"

"Well, I’m going to leave you in your fangy nursemaid’s over-protective
hands," Buffy announced, giggling in amusement as she quickly moved
away.

"Buffy!" Willow’s desperate plea came out as no more than a whisper.

"Have fun, kids," the slayer laughed and darted out the front door.

The redhead turned anxious eyes on the vampire, and he groaned and
pulled her close to him, rocking her gently in his arms, "Does it hurt
very much?"

Truth be told, it hurt like hell, but Willow wasn’t about to tell him
so, "No, Spike. I’m--"

"Shhhh," he quickly silenced her. "I’m sorry, pet. You shouldn’t be
talking. I’ll take you upstairs, and--"

"I’d rather stay here," she insisted, ignoring his shushing. "We could
watch TV or something. Isn’t Passions supposed to be on in--"

"Stop that! You’re hurting." he ordered, clamping a hand over her
mouth. "If you’re staying down here, you are *not* talking. Got it?"

Her eyes widened, and she nodded, his hand still firmly over her lips.

"You’re in pain. Timmy and Tabatha can get sucked into that basement
for all I care," he told her, settling her down onto the sofa. "Want
something to drink? Something cold?"

At her nod, he turned and hurried out to the kitchen as Willow’s
surprised eyes followed him and she mouthed a soft, "Wow."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Willow lay nestled close to Spike on the sofa, his fingers playing
gently with her hair. He flinched as she swallowed and whimpered
softly, and he reached over and plucked up a warm cloth from the coffee
table and wrapped it around her throat once more.

"It isn’t helping," she complained, tired of having the soggy cloth
pressed close to her skin.

Spike growled and flung the cloth away, "Nothing is. Maybe something
hot. Some coffee or--"

"I’m going to slosh away if I drink one more thing," she snapped. "Stop
fussing!"

"Sweetheart," he moaned helplessly, his arms tightening around her at
her angry, croaking tone.

The redhead immediately regretted her sharp words, and she pressed a
kiss to his cheek, "I’m sorry."

"You’re frustrated," he nodded sympathetically as he lay back against
the sofa, pulling her down with him. "Me, too, pet. I’m supposed to
make you better, and I--"

"It’s okay," she raised herself up to look down into his eyes.

"Tell me what to do, luv," he pleaded mournfully.

She smiled softly and whispered, "You’re doing it," before lowering her
lips to his.

His tongue parted her lips, deepening the kiss briefly before suddenly
pulling away, "Does that hurt?"

"No," she grinned

He searched her eyes for a moment, then, satisfied that she meant it,
his mouth engulfed hers as he pressed her body to his. Willow clung to
him, kissing him with equal intensity as his hands traveled under her
skirt to hook around the waistband of her panties. She lifted up
slightly as he dragged them down, and her fingers sought out the button
of his jeans, unfastening and unzipping them to free his hardening
cock. Spike growled softly as she stroked him, and he tore open her
blouse, unhooking her bra and tossing it aside to nuzzle his cold mouth
against one soft rosy nipple. He made quick work of her skirt, letting
it flutter to the floor beside the sofa, before moving her under him
and raising himself up to quickly discard his jeans.

Willow pulled him back down to her, finding his mouth once again as he
gently spread her legs and plunged his cock inside her wet warmth. Her
small hands cupped his ass, pulling him harder into her as her hips
rose to meet him. He swallowed her raspy whimpers as his fingers found
her clit, rolling and pinching it as he drove into her. She tore her
mouth away from his, her nails biting into his flesh, as her walls
squeezed his shaft, and she came with a low, throaty groan. His body
went rigid, and he called out her name as his cold seed filled her
spasming channel.

Spike kissed her tenderly, his lips traveling from her mouth to her
throat, his tongue lapping at her skin, wistfully attempting to soothe
the ache behind her warm flesh. She smiled and ran her fingers gently
through his hair as he reached up and pulled at the afghan draped over
the back of the sofa, covering their naked bodies as he moved off of
her. Willow’s breathing gradually eased, and she curled up close to him
as his hand rubbed soothing circles along her back and shoulders.

"Tell me a story," she whispered wearily, her lips brushing over his
chest.

He chuckled and placed a kiss on her head, "Close your eyes, baby. I’ll
sing you a song."

Her eyebrows rose in surprise, but she closed her eyes and snuggled
close in his arms. Spike rested his cheek against her head and sang
just loud enough for her to hear.

A young lusty smith at his vice stood a-filing,
His hammer laid by his forge still aglow.
When to him a buxom young damsel came smiling,
And asked if to work in her forge he would go.

"I will," said the smith, and they went off together.
Along to the young damsel’s forge they did go.
They stripped to go to it, ‘twas hot work and hot weather,
They kindled a fire, and she soon made him blow."

Willow shifted and giggled softly, "Spike--"

"Shhh," he grinned, rubbing a lazy thumb along her warm cheek as he
continued.

Her husband, she said, no good work could afford her.
His strength and his tools were worn out long ago.
The smith said, "Well mine are in very good order,
And I am now ready my skill for to show."

Red hot grew his iron, as both did desire,
And he was too wise not to strike while ‘twas so.
She said, "What I get I get out of the fire,
So prithee, strike home and redouble the blow."

Six times did his iron, by vigorous heating--

"Six times!" Willow croaked, her head darting up to look in Spike’s
eyes.

The vampire laughed and gently coaxed her head back to rest on his
chest before he resumed the song.

Six times did his iron, by vigorous heating,
Grow soft in her forge in a minute or so.
But as often was hardened, still beating and beating,
But the more it was softened, it hardened more slow.

When the smith rose to go, quoth the dame full of sorrow:
"Oh, what would I give could my husband do so.
Good lad with your hammer come hither tomorrow
But pray could you use it once more ere you go!"

The redhead in his arms snorted indelicately, "Your lullabies are about
as effective as your bedtime stories."

"You complaining?" he questioned.

"Mmmm," she shook her head as her hand stole under the afghan to stroke
his cold shaft. "You’ve already proven your skill with a hammer."

He chuckled and caught her chin in his hand, drawing her mouth to his
as she shifted around to straddle him.

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