Spike trailed behind Willow as they headed into the next game. They were playing embassy, where one team would be all in a room and the other team would try to shoot all of them. The white team was attacking, the harder of the two, and he wondered if she would enjoy it. Planning on keeping close by her, he never expected what happened next.
The whistle blew.
She looked up at him with undoubtably a smile on her face.
Then, she charged.
It was something right out of Star Wars, when Han charged down the hallway after the stormtroopers. She yelled and ran towards the building, finger on the trigger, paintballs firing out of the semi-automatic. He saw people on the opposite team going down left and right as her shots hit their marks. So enthused was her attack that half the white team joined in her attack, whooping and hollering as a steady stream of gunfire rained on the building.
Then, she was hit. A lot.
"Ouch," he winced as she did with each jerk she made as she was shot. He heard her yell the required ‘hit' and raise her hands high, but she was still directly in the line of fire. She turned and started back towards where he was standing dumbfounded under a hail of paintballs.
When she passed by, she goosed him.
He yelped, jumped around to face the direction she went, and got hit
in the back of the head with a shot.
"Oh goddess that was fun," Willow said as she sank down on a chair. She brought her hand up to rub the back of her neck and it came back covered in ball fragments and white paint. She laughed delightedly and shrugged out of her jacket, wincing.
"Pet, what in the bloody hell was that about?" Spike asked as he came up to her. He set his gun and mask down and took off his own jacket.
"That was me growing a pair," she replied with a grin.
"Do what?" he said.
"Yup, it's official,"she told him. "I am a bonafide member of the brass cajones set."
Spike stared at her, wide eyed, mouth slightly open in shock. "Did you get hit in the head?" he finally asked.
Willow shook her head no, then rubbed her shoulder. "Ow. That smarts."
Concern immediately overcame the shock, and the blond vampire moved behind her. "Cor, Willow, you're a bloody mess. Literally."
"That good, huh?" Willow said. "Think I'll win the tacos?"
"I think you're batty. Completely ‘round the bend, you've gone," he told her, brushing the paintball chips off of her neck. He moved to his gun case and dug around until he found a clean rag, then started to dab at the bleeding welts on her neck, arms and shoulders. "Why did you do that, pet? Not that it wasn't a riot to watch, mind you."
"Jamie told me to forget about worrying if I get hit or not and just blow people away," she explained. Then, she sighed. "What a rush. I feel like I can take on a whole platoon."
Spike chuckled. "Why don't we save that for the next time out, kitten."
The others came back and all oh'd and ah'd over her injuries, already claiming that she'd be the winner. Willow was jazzed about what she'd done and, when the referee called next game, she was one of the first ones out there.
Spike shook his head as he watched her practically sprint away. She
was truly an amazing creature.
Willow won six tacos.
Smiling, she continued to dig in the sand between her feet as she chatted with the group around the bonfire at the beach. She'd been introduced to four more of Spike's paintball friends, Duffy, Janel, Matt and Piz. They got together weekly for Blast Camp and then sometimes they came down to the beach, like tonight.
"Who brought the soap?" Kurt asked, pulling his t-shirt off.
"I got it," Piz said, digging through her bag. She handed him a bar of Ivory. "Try not to lose it this time."
Willow watched, her eyes growing wider, as the blond male stripped down to his briefs then headed for the water. Then Schu, Joe and Jamie joined him, although Jamie kept on her t-shirt. "Come on in, water's great!" she called up to those still on the beach.
"Do you want to go in, pet?" Spike asked her, leaning back on his forearms in the sand.
"Do you?" Willow replied, blushing at the thought of seeing him in his briefs again.
"I am a bit dirty," he said. "And there's nothing like a dip in the big blue bathtub after paintball."
She couldn't help but laugh at the thought of the Pacific Ocean being referred to as a bathtub. "I'd like to, but I'm only wearing a tank top," she told him.
"Here," Spike said, stripping off his shirt. "You can wear this, then change back into your tank afterwards. I'll meet you down in the water."
"Thanks," Willow said, pushing away her shyness to change. She turned her back and did the girl thing with her sports bra, pulling her arms in her sleeves, then pulling it over her head. She stood and undid her fatigues, having already removed her socks and boots, and let them fall to the ground. She was glad the t-shirt was on the long side, covering her more than Buffy's skirts did the Slayer.
When she turned back, she saw Spike already in the water, as he said. He waved for her to come in and she hurried down to the edge, letting the waves wash over her feet. It was cold, but not freezing in the summer months. She wiggled her toes, watching them under the spray, then looked up.
Spike was staring at her, a small grin on his face.
Willow felt her whole heart fill up with happiness and something more as she entered the water and went over to where the small knot of friends were splashing. When she got to his side, she smiled up at him. "You're all wet."
"Really?" Spike said in fake amazement. "How did that bloody happen?"
She scrunched her nose, then shot her arm over the surface of the water, splashing him. Soon, they were embroiled in a water fight, laughing and swimming around like children. Eventually, they tired and Willow leaned back on the surface of the water, watching the sky.
"See anything interesting, kitten?" the blond vampire asked softly, squatting in the water so only his head was above the surface by her side.
"I was debating whether or not to make a wish," Willow told him.
Moving closer to he redhead, Spike quietly sang near her ear, "‘When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are, anything your heart desires, your dreams will come true.'"
Straightening, she found herself face-to-face him. With a small smile, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "You are the sweetest vampire I've ever met," she said, then headed for shore.
Spike's cheek was burning from where she kissed him and he had trouble catching his breath.
Even though he didn't breathe.
"I had so much fun, Spike," Willow told the blond vampire as he walked her to her front door. "I never knew playing paintball could be such a-a-a..."
"Blast?" Spike finished with a grin. She rolled her eyes at him at the pun. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, kitten. We can do it again any time you want."
"Really?" she said with bounce of excitement. "Cool. Let's go next Saturday."
Spike laughed at her enthusiasm. "I think I've created a monster."
"Yup," Willow nodded in agreement. "A Willow-monster, who's gonna get ya." Her hands snaked out and danced along his ribs, making him jump away with a small shout. "Come here, Sexy Knickers, and take it like a man."
"Not on my unlife, Willow," Spike told her as he yanked the back of her still wet braid and took off running across the yard. The redhead gave chase and the two ended up collapsing in a pile of limbs when she managed to tackle him.
"Got ya!" she declared, moving so she was sitting on his stomach. She bounced up and down again on him with each cheer. "I win! I win! I win!"
"Get off of me, you big oaf," he said, trying to scowl at her, but not succeeding.
"I'm not an oaf," she stated with fake disdain. "I am a Princess. All bow before me."
Spike froze with her words, his smile fading from his face as the memories of Drusilla surfaced. Painful memories of their last night together when she left him, on the arm of yet another demon, in front of every one of his minions. Her scorn filed remarks echoed in his mind, the words still hurtful. **Your Princess has found a much better Prince, luv. Even Miss Edith says so. Why don't you go run along back to your room and cry like the little boy you are.** Then, as she left, he couldn't prevent the tear that did make its way down his cheek, making those around him laugh. He left Brazil five minutes later, not stopping until he ran into the Welcome To Sunnydale sign ten days after that.
"Spike?" Willow said, peering down at him in the dark. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, luv," Spike lied, giving her a slight push so he could get up. "Come on, it's been a long night. Time for all witches to be in bed."
"Are you sure?" she asked. "You just seem so sad suddenly..."
"I'm sure," he replied, escorting her to her front door. "Goodnight, Willow."
As he turned to go, she grabbed his arm. "Spike, wait," she said. When he looked down at her, she continued. "I know that guys don't like to talk about what's bothering them, but if you ever do, I'll be here."
Spike gave her a small smile. "Thanks, kitten. ‘Night."
"Bye," Willow replied, then watched as he walked back to his car, his
head hanging in sadness or defeat. She wondered what had happened to cause
his sudden change in mood, but wouldn't press for him to tell her. If he
wanted to talk, he'd seek her out. Until then, she could only ask the Goddess
for patience and send a little anti-sadness energy his way.
"Um, ow," Willow said as she tried to move the next morning, or almost noon when she managed to turn her head and look at the clock. Everything hurt. Extremely much. In fact, she doubted she could make it to the bathroom because of the pain. Why did she think paintball was so much fun? "Because you were with Spike," she answered her own question aloud. "Digging through a garbage dumpster would be fun with Spike. Face it, Rosenberg, you got a thing for the blond fang-face."
She sighed and attempted to roll out of the bed with as little movement as possible. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow," she repeated with each step out of the bedroom and to the bathroom. She unbuttoned her sleep-shirt and let it fall to the floor to survey herself in the mirror above the sink.
Her body was covered in welts and bruises, all around the size of slowly growing quarters from where the paintballs hit. With another groan, she turned on the water and plugged the drain to draw herself a bath. She added a bit of almond bubble bath, then brushed her teeth and used the toilet before not-so-quickly returning to her room for the portable phone and to grab her robe. She was glad her parents were gone again, so she could run, or rather hobble pitifully, around the house naked.
Sliding into the tub with a pleasure-filled sigh, she leaned back on the folded towel and let the hot water work its magic on her aching body. Her mind drifted to the one person her mind was always on -- Spike. The funny, sexy, intelligent, silly vampire who invaded her life on graduation and she hadn't been able to get rid of since. She chuckled at her thoughts at the same time the phone rang.
"Hello, the Great Big Ow here," Willow said into the receiver with a smile, glad she brought the phone with her.
"The Great Big Ow?" Buffy asked from the other end of the line.
"Yup," the redhead replied. "I am one large bruise. I'm so black and blue, people are going to think I'm a blueberry."
"With red hair?" Buffy laughed. "I doubt it. So, I take it you had fun."
"Much fun," Willow agreed. "I'm going again next Saturday. That is, if Sp-Billy is over whatever is bothering him."
"Trouble in love land?" Buffy asked.
"I don't love him," Willow told her best friend. She ignored Buffy's ‘yet' and went on. "And I don't know what's wrong with him. We were goofing around like normal and he suddenly got all sad and distant."
"Well, what triggered it?" Buffy said.
"I was sitting on his stomach after tackling him and was making fun of him for my winning," Willow said, grinning at the memory. "Then he called me a big oaf and I told him I wasn't a big oaf, I was a Princess and all...oh! Oh goddess."
"What?"
"I know what I said," Willow replied quietly, her heart filled with sadness and pain for Spike. "Oh goddess, I inadvertently hurt him in the worst possible way."
"How?" Buffy asked.
"By reminding him of his ex-girlfriend," the redhead answered vaguely. "Stupid, stupid, stupid. How would you like it if he brought up Oz?"
"Um, Wills?" Buffy said.
"What? Oh sorry, Buffy," Willow said, not realizing she said her last few thoughts out loud. Her mind was turning over what happened and how she could make him feel better. "Are you up for a little trip to the mall?"
"Me? You feel the need to ask?" Buffy teased. "I'll be over in half an hour."
After disconnecting, Willow set the phone down and submerged her head
under the water. She wanted to drown herself for what she did, but settled
for washing the remaining paint out of her hair and getting ready to go
to the mall with Buffy. At the last minute, she called Faith and asked
if she'd like to join them.
The mall wasn't too crowded for a Sunday afternoon as the three girls wandered into the building. Dressed in mismatched shorts and t-shirts, they laughed and joked over Willow's colorful markings on her skin. The redhead led them to the Hallmark store first, getting raised eyebrows from both Slayers, but neither commented.
Searching through the cards, she started humming, then grinned when she realized what song it was. "What'cha smiling at Red?" Faith asked, rearranging the cards to annoy the employees.
"Just thinking," Willow replied, cutting off the Disney tune from the night before. She opened a possible card and read it, then discarded it.
"About your hottie?" Faith said.
"Maybe," the redhead answered slyly.
"When are we going to meet this mystery hunk?" Buffy asked over the top of the card rack from the next row.
Willow shrugged and pulled another card. "Don't know. He's awfully busy," she lied.
"But never too busy for you," Buffy said. "I see how it is." Willow blushed. "Yup, the Willster's got the hots for her pal Billy."
"If his name is William, you could both be Wills," Faith commented with a smirk.
"Er, it is," Willow confessed, ducking her head so her hair covered her flaming face. "William B. Smith."
"What's the ‘B.' stand for?" Faith asked. "Babe?"
Buffy snorted with laughter. "Or how about Beauhunk?"
"Boff?"
"Beautiful?"
"Big?" Both Slayers broke into giggles at Faith's addition.
"Guys," Willow said, feigning embarrassment now that the initial shock wore off.
"So what is it, Willow?" Buffy asked.
"Big, definitely Big," Willow replied with a devilish grin, the took her selection and left the two gape-mouthed girls as she went to the cashier.
They caught up with the redhead as she left the store. "Willow! I can't believe you of all people said that!" Buffy exclaimed as they walked towards the next store.
"Way to go, Red," Faith said with a grin. "You shocked me good."
Willow shrugged off their comments as she led them into Spencer's Gifts. Faith immediately went to the novelty sex toys and Buffy checked out the jewelry. The hacker walked around the outer rows of the store, examining the knick-knacks and t-shirts until she found something that made her burst out laughing in the sale t-shirt area.
Smothering her giggles, she pulled the shirt to purchase, then continued to look around as she waited for her friends. She ended up finding something for herself, as well, and eventually they all made it out of the store, bags in hand.
"Where to next?" Faith asked, sucking on a very graphic cherry sucker from the store.
"I need to stop by The Glass Works," Willow replied. "But other than that..."
"There's a sale over at Contempo Casuals," Buffy pointed out.
"Buffy, don't you think you have enough clothes?" Willow said.
"Never," Buffy told her, and the three girls went gossiping together
into the store.
Willow stole Spike's car.
It wasn't that difficult, once she accessed hot-wiring instructions on a classic 1963 De Soto off of the Internet. She even remembered to wear clunky heels and bring a phone book so she could easily see out of the small clear area in the windshield. All the windows were rolled down in order for her to use the side mirrors instead of the rear view mirror. Besides, he wouldn't know it was missing considering he was asleep when she snuck through the house into the garage and taken it.
With a cheerful smile, she flicked on the radio and sang along as she drove the monstrous car towards her destination. Her blue jean cutoffs and green tank top did nothing to hide the bruises still marring her body late Sunday afternoon. She had finished shopping with the Slayers only twenty minutes before and had stopped at home to quickly change clothes and drop off her packages.
"I can't see me lovin' nobody but you for all my life. When your with me baby the skies will be blue for all my life," she sang. "Me and you, and you and me. No matter how they toss the dice, it has to be. The only one for me is you, and you for me. So happy together. How is the weather? So happy together. Da da da, dada da da. Da da da, dada da da."
Pulling up to the store, she parked as close as she dared in the big
car, then kicked the wiring apart and headed for the doors, stopping to
grab an extra-large cart on the way. "Hi!" Willow greeted the blue-haired,
senior citizen with an employee name tag as she entered the gardening center.
"I need a whole bunch of..."
Willow stopped back at her house to grab a few more tools, then drove back to Spike's house. The sun was still shining brightly as she pulled into the driveway. She had about three hours left before it set for the night and had a lot of work to do.
She made a face at herself in the large picture window, knowing he couldn't see her because of the boards on the inside, she set down her load from home and Frank's Nursery & Crafts, then went back and closed the truck, which luckily opened from a lever inside the car, with a grimace. She did not want to know what some of the stains were in there.
Whistling, the redhead plopped down onto her knees and began to work. First, she dug up the weeded area underneath the window, making sure to remove all the pesky plants. Then she sprinkled the area liberally with the fertilizer she'd bought, followed by a magickal compound she'd created herself to aid in flower growth. Finally, she began planting the tiny, night-blooming flowers in the area before repeating the entire process on the other side of the front step.
Her entire project left her sweaty, dirty, and only ten minutes to clean up the equipment by throwing it all back into his trunk. Wiping a hand across her cheek, she left a dirt-streaked trail as she jumped back into his car and re-started it, then headed back to her house.
After emptying the trunk once again, she dashed inside to take a quick shower, leaving her hair loose and dressed in light-weight sundress and sandals. With a smile for herself in the mirror, she quickly wrapped her other gift, then headed out the door for yet another trip in Spike's car. She was anxious to get to his house before he went out to hunt. So anxious that she didn't see the police car until she sped past him and the blue, revolving lights appeared in the side mirror.
"Oh goddess," Willow breathed as she pulled to the side of the road. "This is so not good."
She kept her hands on the wheel as instructed long ago, waiting for the officer to approach her open windows. Her heart was pounding in her chest so loudly, she would swear it echoed out into the street. "Excuse me, Miss. Will you turn down the radio?" the officer said.
"Y-Yes," Willow replied, reaching over to flick it off. She tried to take a steading breath, but she wheezed instead and almost ended up in a coughing fit.
"License, registration and proof of insurance, please," the uniformed officer named Sanchez instructed.
"Yes," Willow repeated, reaching to the backpack on the seat next to her. She opened the outer- most pocket with shaking hands and handed him her driver's license and insurance card for her parents car. "I-I need to get the-the registration out of the glove compartment."
"Go ahead," Sanchez said, watching her. She undid her seatbelt, then slid over to open the box. Papers and things she would rather not identify fell out, including a heavy, metal railroad spike which caused her to squeak and toss the item into the back seat. She rifled through the papers, then realized Spike may not have a registration for the car.
"Um, I-I-I can't find it," Willow told him. "It's not my car. I'm borrowing it."
"Oh really?" Sanchez replied, surveying the interior and painted windows with a intelligent eye, including the lack of keys in the ignition.
**Why did I have to get pulled over by the only competent cop in Sunnydale?** Willow thought to herself with dread. "Are you going to give me a-a-a-a ticket?"
"I think you'd better step out of the car, Miss Rosenberg," Sanchez instructed, glancing at her license. "On this side, if you please."
"Yes, sir," she replied, sliding across the seat again and opening the door. She kicked the wires keeping the car running as she was getting out and she gave him a nervous smile. "Oops."
"Miss, I'm going to ask you to wait in the back of my vehicle while I search the car," Sanchez told her. He led her over to the squad car and put her in the back seat, then shut the door. He slid into the front seat and began working on a red-screened computer, entering her license and insurance information, as well as Spike's license plate number and car description.
Willow watched with dread as he left the car while the computer was searching in order to preform his own search. "Oh goddess, I repeat, this is so not good," she said, watching the officer's every move. While she didn't think Spike had anything bad in his car, she never looked under the seats for any reason. For all she knew, he could have body parts shoved under there.
"Next time, I walk," she mumbled as the information appeared on the
computer screen, stating that while Willow was not wanted for a single
thing, the black De Soto was definitely not hers and the license plate
was not listed. "Even if it's up hill, both ways, in the snow."
She couldn't decide who to call. Officer Sanchez had taken Willow into Sunnydale Police Station, located next to City Hall and confiscated all the contents of the car, including her backpack and gifts. She was questioned as to who the car belonged to, why she had borrowed it, where she was coming from and going to, and most importantly, where were the car keys. She answered every question truthfully, only stuttering over the first and last question when answering ‘her friend, Spike' and ‘she didn't know.'
"Come on, Rosenberg," she said to herself in front of the piece of paper where she was suppose to write down the phone number of who to call. "Buffy or Spike?"
There were up and down sides to either person. Both could vouch for her and get her out. However, if she called the Slayer, Buffy would know instantly who's car she had borrowed and Spike would be in trouble, as would she for keeping him a secret. If she called Spike, well, he was a vampire, he didn't really match the picture on his driver's license and he couldn't afford to get thrown in jail because of the threat of sun-exposure if he had to stay.
All in all, she was up Shit Creek without a paddle.
Her only other choices were Faith, Giles or Xander. Faith she instantly ruled out because she didn't know what the brunette Slayer might do, and they both might end up in jail. Xander was gone for the day and Giles was out of town, as well. The only really good thing was that her parents were out of town, too, so the police couldn't contact them at all.
"Ok, which is worse? Buffy dusting Spike, or Spike possibly getting dusted by the sunlight?" Willow asked herself as she looked around the room she was in. So far, the interior of the small station had few windows and none in the cell she'd been put into while waiting, an experience she'd rather not repeat. Luckily, she had been alone. The police in Sunnydale were unusually incompetent. Except for the one who brought her in. "He must be new," she mumbled as she rubbed her temples. "Grr! Pick one!"
Closing her eyes, Willow jotted down whatever her hand wanted. When she reopened them, she slumped back in the chair and wrote down a name on the next line. Then she tossed the pen onto the table to wait.
Spike was in for a bigger surprise than she had planned.
Officer Sanchez dialed the phone number as Willow clutched the receiver tightly in her hand. The line rang in her ear and she found herself chanting in her mind for him to pick up the phone. It was possible that he already left to hunt, and she might not get in touch with him for hours. **Please, Spike, be home,** she thought.
"‘Lo," Spike said on the other end of the line as he picked up.
"Spike," Willow squeaked, then cleared her throat and tried again, giving Officer Sanchez a nervous glance. "Um, I have a small problem. Ok, it's not small. It's pretty big. As is very big. I'm talking big huge..."
"Willow," Spike interrupted, unconsciously mimicking her grip on the receiver on his end. "Tell me what's wrong."
"IborrowedyourcarandIwasspeedingandgotpulledovernowIaminjail," she rushed out all in one breath.
"Once more time, and breathe," the blond vampire instructed.
"Um, your car. I kinda borrowed it today. A-and now I'm in jail," Willow confessed in a weak voice. "They need you to, uh, come down to the police station. I'm so sorry, Spike. I was trying to do something nice for you and-"
Spike interrupted her again. "I'll be down there in a few minutes, ok?"
"Yeah," she replied. "I'm sorry." But he had already hung up. She handed the receiver to Sanchez and clutched her hands together. "He'll be here as soon as he can."
"Very well," Sanchez said, standing. With a gesture, he led her back to the holding cell and locked her inside.
Miserably, she sat down on the bench provided and leaned her head back
against the yellow bars, then decided against it. Instead, she dropped
face to her hands and let out a quiet scream. Sometimes life didn't go
as planned.
"Willow?"
Willow raised her head to see Officer Sanchez standing beside Spike, who looking at her with an expressionless face through the bars to the small holding cell. "Spike, you're here," she breathed in relief. Then worry took over. Worry that he was going to be in jail instead. "Is everything ok? I couldn't find your registration and then I didn't know if...with your special circumstances, you know. Is everything ok?"
"Everything's fine, pet," Spike told her. Sanchez opened the door. "Come on, let's go."
"Really?" Willow said as she stood. Spike nodded and she quickly exited the cell and followed him towards the clerk. She was given back her things after signing a mountain of paperwork, then trailed behind Spike once again as they left the police station. "You're not mad, are you?" she asked meekly.
"No," he replied.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have taken your car. It was wrong. I'm a bad Willow. I should be banned from ever driving again."
Spike stopped walking towards the side lot where said car was waiting for them and put his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her. "Kitten, you did nothing wrong. I don't mind you borrowing my bloody car. In fact, I think it's pretty damn funny that you hot-wired it to begin with," he said with a small quirk of his lips.
"So you're not mad?" Willow asked.
"No, I'm not mad," Spike replied. "Now, let's get you home."
"But I don't want to go home," she blurted, then blushed. Spike arched his brow, the smile on his face growing. "I mean, I was on my way back to your house to surprise you when I got pulled over."
"I think you've accomplished the surprising me part, luv," he said wryly.
He chuckled when her blush deepened. "To my house then?"
Spike stood in front of his house, staring down at Willow's surprise.
It was a flower garden of deep purple violets.
"Do you like it?" Willow asked quietly, a nervous frown marring her face. She tucked her hair behind her ears, then pulled it free.
The blond vampire blinked back his tears, wondering what he did to be blessed with someone as wonderful as Willow for a friend. His depression about Drusilla instantly vanished, to be replaced by a heart-filling happiness. "Cor, Willow, I don't know what to say," he replied in a tight voice.
"Is that bad?" she said.
"No, it's good," he answered, turning and pulling her into a tight hug. "It's bloody wonderful. Thank you."
Willow snuggled into his blue t-shirt over his muscular chest, secretly reveling in the feeling of his arms around her. "You're welcome," she replied happily.
"Want to go rent a picture, kitten?" Spike asked.
"Sure," she answered. She looked up at him and winked. "Want me to drive?"
"Tomorrow night, we need to go to The Teacher's Store and get some stuff," Willow said as they wandered the aisles of Hollywood Video. "Time to start working."
"Joy," Spike replied sarcastically. She swatted him on the arm. "What are we looking for?"
"Books for you to read, that sort of thing," she answered.
"I meant here," he said.
"Oh," she blushed. "Um, I don't know. What are you in the mood for?"
"How ‘bout a picture where a beautiful redhead steals a vampire's car and gets thrown in jail," Spike suggested with a smirk.
"I am never going to live this down, am I?" Willow said. Then she looked over at him in shy surprise. "You...you think I'm beautiful?"
"More beautiful than a sunset," he replied, reaching out to run his finger along her cheek.
She blushed. "Er, h-how about this one?" she said, grabbing a video blindly off the shelf and thrusting it at him in nervousness.
Spike took the video from her with a smile and looked down at it, dropping his hand from her face. When he saw what it was, he quirked a brow. "Do you want to be the ball, Danny?"
"What?" Willow said, confused and a bit shaken from what had just occurred.
He held up the copy of Caddyshack. "I'm quite partial to the gofer," he told her. "He's got some bloody swell dance moves."
Willow started to giggle, then squeaked, "Ut-oh," in the gofer's ‘voice.'
Spike joined in her laughter and before long, the two were quoting the
famous movie's lines back and forth as they made their way to the check-out
counter. The intimate moment had passed.
Willow was sound asleep, her head in his lap, by the time the movie ended. Spike smiled softly, wondering when he went from being a big, bad vampire to being used as a pillow for a human -- and not minding it what-so-ever. He hit the remote that was on the table next to the couch by his arm, shutting off the tv and VCR, then eyed the two wrapped packages on the coffee table with the card on top.
"Well, she did say after the picture," Spike said to himself, coming up with the excuse to open them because he knew he wouldn't be able to not open them. Leaning forward carefully, so as not to disturb Willow, he picked up the packages and put them on the end table.
He opened the card first. When he saw a classic still from the movie Dracula, with Bela Lugosi, he let out a quiet chuckle. The vampire in the picture was standing behind a woman seated at a desk, preparing to put the bite on her. Opening the card, he read the caption. "I thing, er think, I owe you a bite of a a-pol...a-polo...a-po-log-ee. Oh, apology. I think I owe you a bite of an apology."
Spike groaned at the horrible joke. Shaking his head, he glanced down at Willow to be sure he didn't wake her, then went to work on what she had written on the other flap. He noticed right off the bat that she had used small words that he could easily read, and could feel his heart swelling at this simple action. She didn't do it because she pitied him, she did it because she wanted him to be able to read it without problem.
"Spike," he read quietly. "I made a boo-boo and I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you at all. You are my pal, and I want to keep you like that. The gifts are to make you feel good. So open them! Love, W."
With that tugging feeling around his heart, the set the card aside and decided to open the soft one first. As quietly as he could, he opened the cheerful wrappings and had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud. He lifted the black t-shirt up and sniggered at the yellow smiley-face with fangs and a little blood running from its mouth. "Cor, kitten, that's really bad," he whispered.
He set the shirt aside and tossed the wrapping paper on the floor, then reached for the second gift. The paper ended up on the floor as well, and he opened the smallish, black box. His eyes widened and he looked down at Willow with surprise before he carefully took the object out of the box.
It was a tinted glass figurine of the Magic Kingdom.
Spike quietly let himself back into the house and went into the living room. Willow was still sleeping on the couch. He sat down on the coffee table across from her and folded his hands together, letting his elbows rest on his knees as he studied her. **So trusting,** he thought, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. **So innocent. So young.**
He'd had a wake-up call a short while ago, something he'd been avoiding since the summer had begun. He'd gone out to hunt, the blood had been warm and full of fear, and as the body was falling to the ground from his deadly embrace, Buffy had walked around the corner. For the first time since he'd been turned, he was afraid. Afraid the Slayer would see him; afraid he'd have to fight her; afraid that, no matter what the outcome of that fight, he'd hurt Willow.
That was what scared him most of all. He didn't want the young woman sleeping in front of him hurt in any way, especially not because of him. His feelings for her ran deeper than they should between a vampire and a mortal, and he didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Spike had always seemed to have more feelings than what was deemed ‘normal' by the vampire community. He enjoyed violence and death; but, for some reason, he also enjoyed love and life. He was just as content to sit and watch a night-blooming flower open under the moonlight as he was feeling someone's life drain away under his bite.
**I'm an emotional ninny,** he thought, his eyes drifting from Willow's sleeping form to the glass figurine on the end table. He'd only been friends with her for two months, and she already knew more about him than Drusilla did in over a hundred years. Then again, his black queen had been slightly on the insane side.
With a sigh, he let his thoughts drift back to the problem. If he continued to hunt, undoubtably he'd run into the Slayer eventually, but that wasn't his only concern. Willow had been turning a blind eye to his feeding habits and, sooner or later, she'd have to choose between everything she believed in and fought against over the past three years...and him.
**So very young,** Spike thought, reaching out to brush her hair off of her face. His hand hovered above her face, then he pulled it back and re-clasped his fingers together. **So very, very young.**