Bonded

Author: Sinecure

Distribution: This site, ff.net, and anyone else who wants it. Let me know first though, please. I like to visit my babies sometimes ;)
Summary: While fighting a demon, Willow and Spike become bound together.

Author's Note: This is an unfinished story. I'm a big ole W/S 'shipper, and every one of my fanfics is just that; Willow and Spike.

Feedback: Duh.

Rating: I'm going to go with R.

Dedicated: To Claudia, Beta Extraordinaire! She really, really likes this story, and not because it was horrible and she likes to correct things.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

~Part: 1~

Willow spotted the demon across the clearing.  There was no way she could miss its tall, thin body, bare of any hair, and teeth as tiny and sharp as razors.  It was ugly and mean looking and she was ready.  Ignoring Spike, who was grumbling at her to hurry up, she closed her eyes and held her hands out, releasing the magical energy she'd held inside for too long.

As soon as the magic left her body, she opened her eyes and watched as the large green ball soared through her palms and straight into... the ground beside the demon.

"Damn," she muttered.  Feeling elated and humming with magic, she decided to try again, but the demon didn't let her get to the chanting stage before it shot its own magic at her.

She jumped to the right, toward Spike, trying to get out of the way of the black ball, but, unfortunately, Spike chose that moment to be heroic and pushed her out of the way.  She ended up rocking slightly to her right, being pushed back to her left and getting a stomach full of magic.  Spike's hand, still on her arm, attracted the magic like a lightning rod.  It surged through him, and then dissipated.

They stood there, staring at themselves, and then at each other, and neither of them noticed the second ball of magic headed toward them.  They both became aware of the cemetery lighting up slightly with a red light, turning everything blood red, and then they were hit.  It flew through Spike first, throwing him backwards a few yards.

Willow ran over to him, checking to see if he was all right.  As soon as she touched him, the magic surged through him and into her.  Her back arched painfully, and then she collapsed.  The light faded away, and silence fell once again.

~~~*~~~

Anya, Xander and Buffy took off toward the light show, hoping that was where the demon had fled to, and at the same time hoping Willow and Spike hadn't found the thing.  They had no idea what the demon was or what it was capable of, and since unknowns were more likely to get one killed, it was usually better to fall back and do research.  But Spike had been in the middle of a fight with the demon when it fled, and, being a vampire, he'd been enjoying himself, and decided to take off after it before any of the others could stop him.

Willow had been in the midst of a magical attack when the demon took off running, and the energy she'd built up to fling at the demon was still inside of her.  Needing to divest herself of it, and at the same time, feeling euphoric and filled with power, she followed Spike while the others were occupied with picking themselves up off the ground.

"Over here," Anya called.  She ran toward the two prone figures on the ground, Xander and Buffy right behind her.

The three of them knelt beside Willow, ignoring Spike completely.  Xander leaned his ear against her chest, checking for a heartbeat.  Buffy felt Willow's neck for a pulse.  Anya held her hand in front of Willow's mouth, checking for breath.  All three leaned back on their haunches after a few seconds with a sigh of relief.

"What happened to them?" Anya asked, looking for injuries on Willow.  Finding none, she looked to Xander and Buffy.

Buffy shrugged.  "I don't know.  Magic?  That light show we saw came from over here.  They must have gotten whacked with something.  There aren't any marks on Spike either, that I can see... not that I did any extensive searching.  Let's get them to Giles'.  We can check them out there."

"Why did she go after it?" Xander asked them.  "Spike I can see, but Willow?  She's not the go-getter type.  Well, except that time she went after Glory, but there were circumstances then."

They all got to their feet, looking around for clues as to what had happened.

"Let's get to Giles', then figure it out," Buffy repeated.  "We have to get them out of here before the demon decides to come back."  The surrounding area was demon-free at the moment, but that could change at any second.  "Xander, help Anya carry Willow to your car.  I'll get Spike."  Anya and Xander carefully lifted Willow and started toward the car.  "And hurry.  You guys look like an All-You-Can-Eat vamp buffet."

Half an hour, and much struggling later, they were all seated at Giles'.  Neither Willow, nor Spike had moved an inch since they'd found them.  It was a little unnerving, almost like they were dead.  Well, dead with a finality dead for Spike, and just plain dead for Willow.

After a cursory examination of Willow, Giles straightened up from the couch.  "I believe they're asleep."

"Asleep?" Buffy repeated.  "That's the demon's big attack weapon?  A sleep spell?  I mean, sure it'd be cool if he was in a bind, but it was just Spike and Willow."  Giles raised his eyebrows at her and she nodded.  "Okay, right.  Brute strength and magick, but... all right."  She looked down at Willow, brushing a lock of hair off of the redhead's forehead.  "Why aren't they waking up?"

Xander was standing over Spike, who was on the floor in front of the couch.  He looked oh-so-innocently at him and 'accidentally' kicked Spike as he stepped over him.  Spike's arm sprawled away from his body.  "Oops."  Xander put his hand to his mouth, all innocence and contrition.  "I'm sorry, Spike, I didn't see you there."

The sleeping vampire didn't respond, but the others in the room did.  Anya frowned at her boyfriend, Giles glared at him disapprovingly, and Buffy leaned over, putting Spike's arm back beside him.  Then she glared at Xander as well.

He had the good sense to look ashamed, but she knew he was anything but.  Spike may have helped them over the past two years, even helped save the world a few times, but he'd also fallen in love with Buffy, chained her up in his crypt, and been there too late to protect Dawn from Doc.  And because of that, Buffy had died.  Not just a few minutes died, this time, actually dead died.  There was a gravestone to prove it.  And though Xander and the others had grown to like the vamp somewhat, that incident had set Xander against him again.  He blamed Spike for Buffy dying.  She was back now, but he didn't let up.  Probably never would.  There was just something about Xander and dead guys.  He didn't get along with them.

~~~*~~~

Willow woke up to a loud pounding.  When she opened her eyes to the total darkness around her, she realized it was her head that was doing the pounding, not an external source.

"That's the last time I go out drinking," she whispered to herself.  "Oh, wait.  I don't drink."  She sat up slowly, trying to find a wall or something nearby to lean on.  She found one a few feet away, and leaned against it gratefully.  Her head felt like she was inside one of those annoying cars that were all speakers and bass.  "Bloody hell."

She halted her hand on the way to her head.  Bloody hell?  You've been hanging around British people too much.

She closed her eyes, not that it mattered, since she equally couldn't see either way, and did a small spell to ease the aching in her head.  After a few seconds, the pounding lessened and the pain minimized.  "Better than aspirin," she mumbled, getting to her feet.

Stemming the panic she felt, she focused on finding out where she was.  There would be time enough to freak out later, after she was out of... wherever here was.  Even still, she couldn't help but try to remember how she'd gotten here as she went.

Since she couldn't see, the best thing to do would be to feel along the wall and try to find a door.  She held her hands out to the wall, and felt her way along it for twenty steps before finally coming to a corner.  That gave way to another corner after only three short steps.  Then back down to where she'd been.  Apparently she was in a corridor of some sort.  But where?  And why?  Where were the others?

Let's see... where was I?  Cemetery.  Big surprise.  What was I doing?  Well, duh, fighting demons.  What else would I be doing there?  Having tea with Spike?

A strangled laugh escaped her, echoing down the hallway.  She shuddered, and fell silent, hoping no one had heard her.

Okay, focus.  Focus.  Cemetery... Spike.  He was there.  So were the others.  No.  That wasn't right.  It was just her and Spike... and a demon.  And some kind of magic... maybe.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she brought her attention back to her surroundings.  There was a corner that led to another hallway similar to the one she was in, and, having no other choice, she headed down it.  She came to another corner about thirty feet down this time, and turned again.  She did this at least ten more times before she was forced to sit down and rest.  Her head was starting to hurt again... the spell must be wearing off.

She held off on repeating the spell, not wanting to tax herself too soon, in case she was here for a long time.  Wherever here was.  She sighed heavily and closed her eyes.

Spike turned down another one of the endless hallways and slammed his fist against the wall when he found it empty.

"That's the last time I go out drinking," he told himself.  Being a vampire, he was all for a world of darkness, but this was ridiculous.

He inhaled deeply, trying to reign in his anger, and was assaulted by a familiar scent.  Closing his eyes, he breathed in again.  There it was again.  He wasn't imagining it.  He continued down the corridor, and rounded the bend at the end.

There was a body curled up on the floor.

He could hear her heartbeat, which was near normal, so he knew she was alive.  But was she hurt?  Unconscious?  Only one way to find out.  Kneeling down, he shook her a bit.

"Witch."  She didn't stir, so he shook her shoulder a little harder.  "Red?  Wake up, damn it."  Stupid chit.

"I'm awake, Oz, geez," she mumbled.

Spike snorted and rolled his eyes.  The witch still dreamed of dogboy, huh?  He'd have to let it slip to the blonde witch when they got out of here.

If they got out of here.

He shook her again when she tried to fall back to sleep, and sat her up against the wall.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly.  Normal set of pupils.  Bright eyes.  Never noticed how big they were before, he thought.

"I'm not stupid."  She looked up in his general direction, squinting, as if that would help her see better.  "Oz?  No, not Oz, he's gone.  Who's there?"  She sat up straighter, blinking a few times, obviously just now remembering where she was.  Spike saw the panic and fear hit her before she tamped them down.

His grin held pure evil, even though he knew she couldn't see it.  "William the Bloody."

To his disappointment, and anger, the blasted girl actually calmed down.  Where was the fear?  The rapid pulse?  The freaking heartbeat pounding in his freaking ears?

Bloody stupid chip!

"Spike?" she was saying.  "Oh, boy.  You have no idea how glad I am to see you.  Unless you're the reason I'm here.  In that case, I'm not happy to see you.  But, I don't think you are... ow, stopping talking now."

"Good," he told her cruelly, "because your voice is annoying my already pounding head."

He rocked back on his heels, and stood up, waiting for her to follow suit.  She stood fluidly, painting a pretty picture of grace and femininity... until she swayed and ended up leaning against the wall.  Spike rolled his eyes.  She couldn't even stand up without needing help.  She was a pathetically weak human.  The kind he hated most.  The kind that made good dinners... for newly made vampires who didn't know how to hunt.

"Any clue where we are?" she asked him, her whole face hopeful.

He hated to crush that hope, but... well actually, he didn't.  "Not a bloody clue."

Her face fell, and he almost felt like he could maybe feel guilty for having caused it, but, no.  He enjoyed hurting her.
The witch closed her eyes, chanting something to herself.  Magic spell.  Uh-oh.

"Don't--" he began, then felt a tingling in his head.  He grabbed her arms and shook her angrily.  "Bloody bitch.  Keep your bloody magic to yourself from now on.  That's probably how we got into this mess in the first bloody place."

Willow shook herself free of his grip and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the wall beside him.  "Fine then.  Keep your stupid headache.  Next time I won't help you... even if you're dying."  She swept past him, knocking him into the wall with a shoulder to the chest.  "And could you possibly say, 'bloody' any more?  You'd think for a one hundred and twenty whatever old vampire you'd learn a new word once in a while."

The pain in his head started to fade and Spike realized what Willow had done.  A healing spell.  On him.  But why?  There had to be a reason behind it.

He turned and followed after her, just in time to see her slump against the wall.  Must be all the magic she'd used earlier in the cemetery and just now.

Now he felt slightly bad for yelling at her.  But just slightly.

"What are you doing, you dolt?  If you're gonna use your powers, at least do something to help us out, light the way or something.  I can live with pain.  I've done it enough times.  I can handle it until we get out of here."

"If," she stressed.  "And darn straight you should feel guilty."  Taking a deep breath, she chanted some more and suddenly a yellow light was hovering in front of them, lighting the corridor.

A long gray hallway led to a turn up ahead and behind them.  Spike looked up, barely able to see a ceiling above them.  Willow grabbed her head and fell to the ground.

Spike sighed heavily.  If it wasn't one thing, it was another.  He'd never get out of here at this rate.  He glared down at her, knowing he would have to carry her, or spend the rest of his unlife here.

"Bloo-- damn."

He bent over and picked her up, hefting her small weight in his arms.  Willow didn't protest, since she was barely conscious.  Her head lolled over his arm, and her cheek brushed against his chest.  His skin tightened at the light contact, but he ignored it.  It had simply been too long since he'd had intimate contact with a living, breathing creature.  Or vampire.  Or anyone.  Robots didn't count.

Willow giggled slightly.  "Buffy bots don't count," she mumbled before passing out.

Spike nearly dropped her.

~~~*~~~

Xander sat on the arm of the couch, watching over the unconscious Willow and munching on a bag of chips.  Giles and Anya were doing the research, while Buffy went home to check on Dawn.  So far, not a peep had been heard from the sleeping couple.  Research had turned up a name and a picture, but nothing else.

The demon was called a Litchock demon.  The drawing of it on the table in front of Xander was just like it had looked in the cemetery.  Tall, lanky, all tiny razor sharp teeth and bare gray skin.  The thing was just icky looking.  Like a Borg with really bad incisors.

Xander popped another Frito into his mouth and nearly choked on it when Willow suddenly started convulsing.  The bag of chips fell forgotten to the floor as he grabbed her arms, holding her still.

"Giles!  Something's wrong," he yelled.  Giles and Anya rushed over.

Giles shoved Xander out of his way and held her by the waist.  "Hold her arms," he ordered Xander, who had no intention of letting go of them.

Her body arched up off the couch.  If they hadn't been holding her, she would have fallen to the floor.  Or rather, to Spike, who was still and silent.  Xander was tempted to kick him again.  Why should Willow be going through all this when Spike wasn't?  It was all his fault.

"What's happening to her?" Anya asked, sounding scared.

"Seizure.  We may have to take her to the hospital," Giles told them, his voice letting them know how serious it was.

Willow calmed down a bit, and both men relaxed their hold on her.  Xander was so busy glaring at Spike again, that her sudden resurgence of jerking took him by surprise and he let go of one of her arms.  It flopped to the side, landing on Spike's chest, and suddenly she went still.

All three of them stared at her, waiting for the shaking to start again, but it didn't.  Xander, not wanting Willow touching Spike in any way, shape, or form, lifted her hand off of him.  Immediately, she started to convulse again.

Giles moved her hand back down until it touched Spike.  She quieted again.  He stood up, looking disgusted with himself, and took a deep breath, removing his glasses.  "Of course," he said, "they're bonded."

~Part: 2~

Spike set Willow down on the ground none too gently, and lightly slapped her face.  "Wake up, Witch.  Come on, Red, wake the bloody hell up."  She stirred, but didn't wake up.

Spike glared down at her, hoping against hope that what he suspected, wasn't happening.  He could not be bonded to her.  Bloody hell.  Why did she have to follow him when he went after the blasted demon?  Why couldn't Buffy have... no.  No use thinking about that.  What's done was done, and nothing was going to change that.  Besides, it wasn't like it would change anything between them.

~Wake the hell up, Witch!~

He smiled in satisfaction when she jerked awake, her eyes finding his.  The yellow glow thing was gone, had faded when she went to sleep, so she couldn't see him, but he could still see her.

~It's about time you woke up, Witch.~

"Hmm?"  Her eyes slid closed.

He shook her a bit, and she opened her eyes again, trying to look around.  She groaned loudly.  "Are we still here?" she asked, looking like she wanted to throw a temper tantrum.  "No offense, Spike, I mean, yeah, I was happy to see you the first time, but now, I'd much rather see an exit."  She stood up, looking stronger than earlier.

Spike watched her carefully.  She didn't seem to realize he could hear her thoughts.  Or that she could hear his.  Right now the link was pretty weak, but he knew it was getting stronger by the second.

They had to get out of there.  Now.  Maybe Giles could figure out a way to stop it.
In the meantime though, they were stuck in this... place.  So he decided to screw with her a bit, and test the strength of the bond.  He thought about old times with Dru, his first slayer during the Boxer Rebellion.  That had been fun.  Especially afterwards.

"Come on then," he tossed over his shoulder, heading back the way he'd been carrying her.

When he heard her angry thoughts, he chuckled.

"Oh, but I am the boss of you right now, so hurry up."

She gasped and stopped dead in her tracks.  "You read my mind."  She looked shocked.  Then angry.  "Stop it, you... thought thief!"  She glared at him accusingly.  "How are you doing that?"

Spike laughed even more when a look of extreme concentration crossed her face as she tried to read his thoughts.  She couldn't seem to focus well enough though.  "Must be this place, pet."  No use telling her they were-- oops, better not to think about it.

Anger and embarrassment were pouring off of her, filling him like a sponge, and he had to close his eyes against the assault.  He'd had some practice at shielding his thoughts when he was with Drusilla.  She could sometimes sense things out of the blue, and it had made for some pretty big fights between them, so he'd learned to control them.  He'd either erect a mental wall around the thoughts he wanted to keep private, or bring up old memories like he was doing now.

Willow stalked past, trying to ignore him.  Her heartbeat was faster than before, and her breathing a little shallower, and he knew he was getting to her.

~One plus one is two, two plus two is four, four plus four is eight, eight plus eight is sixteen...~ she went on and on like that, trying to block out the images.

He snickered at her.

~Here, an exit, there, an exit...~ he thought.

~Everywhere an exit, exit,~ Willow finished.

And suddenly there one was.  Right in front of them.  Light poured through the opening and Willow grabbed his hand, pulling him toward it.

"Wait!  That might be--"

"It's the way out," she told him, "I--"

"Sunlight."

"Know it."

Spike and Willow both sat up, ignoring Giles' confused face as he watched them.

"How could you possibly know it wasn't sunlight?" Spike asked from the floor, his tone thunderous.

She didn't shrink from him as he'd expected her to do.  She actually sat straighter, and glared at him.  "I just knew.  I felt it."

"Yeah?  Well feel this."  He grabbed her hand and sent her pictures of some of the worst things he'd done, as well as some of Angelus' victims too.  Horror and nausea seeped out of her and into him.  After a moment, he stopped, and joined her on the couch.

Her hand shot out, and she slapped him.  Hard.

"You little bitch," he hissed, wanting nothing more at that moment than to drain her dry.

"Aw," she smirked, "but you can't.  'Cause you're Neutered Guy."

Giles cleared his throat, earning scowls from the two of them.  "Would either of you mind telling me what's going on?  Other than the fact that you're bound, of course.  I already know that part."

Willow's eyes widened at the Watcher.  "Bonded?  With Spike? I'm bonded with-- oh, God."

~And the witch gets it.  Bravo.~ Spike thought snidely.

"How?" Willow asked Giles.  "I mean... how?  It-- it's not permanent is it?  Please tell me it's not permanent."

"The demon you ran into in the cemetery was a Litchock demon.  They're generally benign creatures, and aren't known to use magic, but from what Buffy and the others described, this one did."  He rubbed the bridge of his nose.  "After they brought you here, you began to convulse, until your hand touched Spike.  Physical contact after the bond starts is a necessity."  He looked pointedly at their clasped hands.

Both Willow and Spike looked at their hands, resting on the couch between them.  She gasped and tried to yank her hand away from his, but Spike held on.

"You don't want to do that," he warned her.

"Why not?" she asked, pulling harder.

"Willow, don't--" Giles began, jumping to his feet.

"Fine," Spike spat, letting go of her hand.  She fell back on the couch, her eyes sliding closed, and her body convulsing.  Giles jumped forward, clasping their hands together again, and glaring at Spike.  "Okay, she gets it."

Willow sat up, recovering quickly.  She was close to tears.  "Is it permanent?"

"No," Giles answered, offering her the only comfort he could.  "Physical contact need only be kept up until the bonding wears off, anywhere from one to twenty four hours.  After that, things will go back to normal.  It's just a temporary bond, meant to keep you occupied and away from it.  Apparently the demon saw you two as its biggest threat."

"Twenty four hours?" Spike asked dubiously.

Giles nodded.  "That's just a guesstimate.  It all depends on the demon, the circumstances, the magicks used... numerous factors having to do with the individuals as well.  It's not an exact science.  But I've never heard of an instance lasting longer than that."

Willow nodded, pushing the panic threatening to choke her to the back of her mind.  Now was not the time to freak out.  There would be plenty of time for that later.  Right now, she needed to concentrate on what Giles was saying, and ignore Spike's thoughts.

And then Buffy walked in.  Curious, and knowing that this was her chance to solve the question of whether or not Spike really was in love with Buffy, she watched him, but he wasn't giving anything away.

Damn.

~Well here we go, I'm sure she's gonna find some way to blame me for this.~

Hearing the angry thought, and knowing he was right, Willow let go of his hand, and pressed her leg against his.  He raised an eyebrow at her in question, and she shrugged, not even sure why she was helping him.

"Willow!  You're okay."  Buffy rushed over and pulled Willow up, hugging her.  Willow made sure her leg was pressed against Spike's.  "I was so worried about you.  Don't ever do that to me again."

"Yep, we're fine.  Nothing whatsoever wrong with us.  Healthy as horses, right, Giles?  Just a little beauty sleep."  Willow stared at the Watcher, hoping he'd catch on.

"Oh, yes.  Healthy as... yes.  Nothing to worry about.  Nothing at all," he mumbled, going back to the book he'd been perusing when they'd woken up.

"Great to hear," Buffy said, relief evident in her voice.  "Even you, Spike."

Willow felt Spike's happiness at Buffy's words, but there was also contempt for himself.  Desire burned in the background... normal stuff you'd expect to feel from someone in love.  What she didn't expect to feel was the anger, hatred, and need to kill that same object of affection.  Thoughts and images of violence and murder mingled with thoughts and images of love and sex.

Willow's eyebrows couldn't have risen any further had they been pushed up.  She looked to Spike, who stared back, unashamed.

"... went home?" Buffy was saying.

Willow and Spike both tuned in to the conversation between Watcher and Slayer.

"Yes, about two hours ago.  There was no point in making them stay just to watch Spike and Willow sleep.  How's Dawn?"

"Asleep, finally.  I caught her staying up to watch TV after I left."

Spike snickered in her mind.  ~I've been staying up with the brat watching the telly while Buffy patrols.~

Willow giggled in surprise.  ~Me too.~

Spike snorted with laughter, and Willow joined in.  Buffy turned to them curiously, and they quieted to snickers again.  They looked like children caught stealing cookies before dinner.  Buffy shook her head.

"What's wrong with you two?" she asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," they said in unison.

Willow watched as her hand reached out to take Buffy's.  It was interesting in that... she hadn't been the one moving her hand.  Spike had.

How far does this bond thing go? she wondered.

~All the way,~ Spike answered.

~Ew, don't even think about it, buster.  I'm not about to start petting my best friend.~

Buffy stared down at their joined hands, then up at Willow.  Her brow furrowed in confusion.  "Willow?  Miss me or something?"

Willow dropped Buffy's hand and nodded emphatically.  "Yes.  Totally.  I was scared.  We were-- not we, just me.  I was alone in my thoughts."  She could hear Spike laughing at her in her mind, and frowned back at him.  ~Shut up, or... I'll start thinking about cute fluffy bunnies.~  "See, 'cause I was stuck in them.  That's what the magick did to us-- to me.  Him too," she hooked her thumb at Spike, "only, in his own thoughts.  Not in mine.  That would have been... scary."

~Bloody hell, Witch, you're giving me a headache.  Do you have to think and talk at the same time?~

"Oh, yeah," Buffy said, shuddering slightly.  "Been there, done that.  So not fun.  Well, I'm going to go out and make another sweep, maybe find this thing and kill it."  She looked at the two of them.  "You're sure you're okay?"

Willow sat down with a smile.  "Uh-huh.  Tired though, so, I'm going to go home."  Her smile grew a little strained when Buffy didn't leave first.  Uh-oh.  How were they supposed to get out of there without Buffy noticing them touching?  She looked desperately at Giles, who didn't seem to notice.  She was on her own.  And now Buffy was watching her funny, and Willow was freaking out, and Spike was laughing at her, and she hated him so much sometimes.

~Only sometimes?~ he taunted her.

~I'm doing this for you, you idiot.  So, help me!~

Spike finally sighed, and stood up, pulling Willow with him.  "Come on, Witch, I'll walk you home, make sure nothing nasty gets you."

He sounded so disgusted with her that she knew he wasn't faking it.  She tamped down on the hurt and anger, not wanting him to know that he could make her feel an inch tall with his taunts.  Spike didn't need to know everything about her, especially her insecurities.  They were none of his business.

"Whatever," she said, pushing him out the door with a hand to his back.  Looked completely normal, she thought.

"Ha!" Spike tossed back.

"Shut up."  Willow grabbed his hand and started home.

A few blocks away from Giles' apartment, Spike veered off, trying to pull her across the street.  Willow dug in her heels and pulled him to a dead stop.  They stood there for a second, holding hands, each pulling in different directions, before Spike finally just yanked her toward him.

Pain shot through her head, and she fell to the sidewalk, clutching her head.  She landed hard on her knees, and bit back a yell.
She could hear Spike cursing her in her mind, blaming her for the pain she was in, for making him cause that pain, and for delaying them because of the pain.  "Screw you, Spike," she bit out, climbing to her feet.

Spike was watching her curiously.  "Hold on... you got the pain, not me.  Don't suppose you'd want to go hunting with me?  I kill and feed, you feel the pain?  Come on, it'll be fun," he cajoled.

Willow stared at him.  Was he serious?  Did he actually think she would even consider-- hearing his laughter, she rolled her eyes.  "I really don't like you, Spike."

Spike chuckled at her.  "Liar.  Come on, I need to grab some things from my place."

"Do you have to?  I'm tired.  I want to go to bed."  She knew she was whining, especially when Spike told her with his thoughts, but she couldn't help it.  This night didn't seem to want to end.  It was just one long endless suckfest.  "Shut up, Spike," she said before he could comment on her last thought.

"Fine.  Seeing as how you're extremely anxious to get me into bed, let's hurry up and swing by my place, then to yours where you can put your pathetic ass to bed.  And yes, I do need to go home, unless you'd like to be dinner."  He turned to her suddenly.  "Which, actually, could happen, what with you getting the pain from the chip and all.  I could kill you without a thought."

"Now who's lying?" Willow asked smugly.  "Touch me, Buffy'll stake you."

Spike grabbed her by the throat, not hurting her, but not being gentle either.  He pushed her back against the brick wall store front.  "Let's get something straight, Witch.  I am not your personal punching bag, I'm not here for you to throw taunts at and make fun of, got it?"

Willow nodded as best she could with his hand wrapped around her throat.

"I don't appreciate the jokes at my expense, and I don't like being laughed at.  I don't make fun of you for loving the blonde witch, do I?"

Willow shook her head, which was again, rather difficult.  "No."  ~Let go, Spike, I can't breathe.~  Spike's hand loosened a bit, but he didn't let go.  "I don't make fun of you, Spike."  She closed her eyes, showing him times that she'd been made fun of, and how she'd felt.  Cordelia and Harmony laughing at her clothes, making fun of her lack of friends... and then him, taunting her and Xander about being Buffy's lackeys.

He jerked his hand back, as if burned, and grabbed her wrist.  "All right, all right," he said irritably, dragging her across the street.  "Keep your bloody pain to yourself."

"Ditto," Willow agreed with a sigh.  This bonding thing was hard on the nerves.  And her head was killing her.

~Part: 3~

After getting the extra blood Spike kept at his crypt, he and Willow headed to her house.  Her parents were gone for the week, visiting friends at the lake.  Willow found herself wishing she hadn't turned them down when they asked her to join them.  Hindsight was a bastard of a thing.  After the lake, the Rosenberg's were going on a European tour, seeing basically everything there is to see.  They'd be gone the whole summer.

As it was, Spike and Willow would have the whole house to themselves, unfortunately they had to remain in extremely close quarters for the next twenty two hours or so.

So not looking forward to that, she thought.  Her thoughts were pretty much open for him to come in and take a peek, had he wanted to, but apparently, he didn't, for which she was grateful.  Trying to shield her thoughts from him was taxing.

Willow raised her hand to rub her head, but was stopped by Spike yanking it down again.  Oh, yeah, Spike hand-holding.  That was on a level that was so weird and creepy that she didn't even want to think about it.

"Company," Spike said wearily, sounding as tired as she felt.  "Bloody hell," he muttered when he saw who it was.

Willow desperately tried to hide their clasped hands behind her back, but she knew it was fruitless.  Judging by Xander's narrowed eyes, he'd already seen them.

"It's not what you think," Willow said immediately.

Spike snorted contemptuously.  "You mean he can think?"

Xander didn't stop for conversation, he simply walked up to them, and punched Spike in the jaw.  Or tried to.  Spike caught his fist before it even got near him.

"Let me go, Spike, or so help me God, I will stake you," Xander ground out.

Spike tightened his grip, his cold blue eyes watching as realization spread across Xander's face.  "Back off," he told Xander, keeping his grip on the boy loose enough so Willow didn't get her brain fried right then and there.

"Spike, let him go."  Her voice cut through the men's anger, and they backed away from each other.

"He's chipless, Will, we have to--"

"No, he's not.  He's still chipped.  He can't, and won't hurt us.  Right, Spike?"

Spike shrugged noncommittally.  "Haven't decided yet."

Willow rolled her eyes at him.  "Oh, please.  Kill me and you kill yourself.  Buffy, remember?  Not to mention this bond thing.  It might kill you too."

Spike shrugged again, staring off into the night, pretending disinterest.

Xander tried to draw her away from Spike, but she raised their clasped hands.  "I can't let go."

Tossing a hate-filled glance at Spike, Xander hugged her a bit.  Spike shuddered in disgust.

"This bond thing... did Giles figure it out?"

Willow nodded.  "Yeah.  He said it would only last for twenty four hours, give or take.  Not a big deal.  I can handle that."  She leaned forward, and whispered, "Not so sure about him though.  He kinda hates me."

Xander's eyes gleamed.  "So this is hard for him?  Maybe even painful?"  Willow nodded, grinning at the unabashed glee on Xander's face.  "Good."

Willow felt Spike's eyes on her, but ignored him.  She had no clue how he felt about her or this whole situation, since he was able to keep his thoughts to himself, but she pretty much figured he was hating every second of it.

~It's not as bad as all that.  Though, I'm certainly not enjoying myself.  Yet.~

Before Willow had time to contemplate that last bit, Spike moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her neck.  It was a lover's touch, pure and simple, and it nearly sent Xander over the edge.

"You son of a bitch," he yelled, prying Spike's arms away from Willow, while Willow tried to calm Xander down.  Xander didn't want to be calmed though.  He tore at Spike's hands with blind fury, which made Spike hold on tighter, while Willow held the two of them apart.  Spike wouldn't let go of her, and she couldn't exactly force him to.  Nor could she stop Xander from taking a swing at Spike.  Too late, she realized that Xander's swing was wide and his fist was heading toward her.

Spike's hand shot out, once again halting Xander's fist.  Willow breathed a sigh of relief.  "God, Xander, he's just trying to get a rise out of you.  He's not at fault here anymore than I am.  He didn't go up to the demon and say, 'Hey, bind me to that girl over there, it'll be fun!'  So stop it, all right?"

Xander nodded angrily.  "Fine.  But as soon as this is over, he's fair game."

Spike snorted in amusement.  "Like to see you try."

"And you," Willow said, brushing Spike's arms off of her.  "Leave Xander alone... remember the not taunting thing?  That goes both ways."

"Sure, whatever."  He started dragging her away from the still fuming Xander.  "Come on, let's go, I wanna go to bed."

Willow rolled her eyes at her vampire companion.  "You're a jerk, you know that?  And your double standards are amazing."

"So I've been told."

"He's kidding, Xander," she called over her shoulder, allowing Spike to drag her away simply because she was too tired to continue to fight him.

"No, I'm not," Spike taunted with a laugh.  "Oh, calm down," he told Willow, "he deserved it.  What right does he have to judge me?  I am what I am, and I make no apologies."

Willow looked at him askance.  "Okay, Popeye.  Did you ever think that maybe that's why he hates you so much?  You want us to think you've changed, but you never stop threatening us, or taunting us, or treating us like dirt."

Spike rolled his eyes and quickened his pace.  "I am not about to be dragged into a philosophical discussion with a teenager.  Let's just not talk, all right?  When the bond is over, we can go about our own lives, and forget this ever happened."

"No bloody way," Spike ground out.  "I am not about to sleep on the floor.  You sleep on the floor."  The witch actually expected him to sleep beside her bed like a dog?  Not while he had a say in it.

"No.  This is my room.  My bed.  And I'm not sleeping with a vampire.  It's a rule."  She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him.  "My rule.  Rule number one in not getting killed: don't sleep with vampires."

Spike snorted condescendingly.  "Good rule.  Smart, really.  Don't worry, you're safe, I already ate."  He patted the mattress beneath him and pushed against her leg, trying to get her to move so he could get more comfortable.  "I'm not a dog, don't treat me like one.  And bloody hell, will you move?"

"No, I won't.  And just because you're into domination, doesn't mean everyone else is.  It isn't a power thing, it's a simple, 'I don't want to sleep with you, Spike' thing.  No offense," she added.

Spike took off his boots and duster, tossing them a few feet away.  "Domination?  What, just because I'm a vampire you think I like hurting people?"  Pausing for a second, he amended his protest.  "Well, okay, I do.  But, I'm not into bondage and all that crap.  That's Dru's and Angelus' bag, not mine."

Willow was looking rather skeptical.  "Sure, Spike, and as a Wiccan, I'm not into spells and stuff," she scoffed.

Spike shrugged.  "Believe what you want, Red, I could care less."  He stood up, tossing his t-shirt on top of his duster.  "Change your clothes or whatever now, 'cause once I lay down, I'm not getting back up."

She looked ready to bolt.  Her eyes darted from herself, to her dresser, to him, and back again.  Half asleep already, Spike had little patience for Willow and her modesty, and had no intention of sleeping any way other than how he always did.

"What are you doing?" Willow yelled when she heard his belt jingling.  She turned to see him un-buttoning his jeans.  She averted her eyes from him, looking like she wanted to jump up and run away, but she was trapped.  "Leave your pants on!  I'm not-- fine.  I'll sleep on the floor."  She grabbed his hand and tugged him to her dresser, pulled open a drawer, hardly paying attention to what she was doing, and grabbed a handful of clothes.

Shorts and t-shirts fell all over the floor, but Willow didn't notice.  She turned Spike around, and stood beside him so their arms were touching.  Spike was having a hard time not laughing.  She had three shirts, and two pairs of shorts piled at her feet, and a trail of them leading from the dresser.  In her hands, she had a pair of jean shorts and a small blouse that looked like a bandana.

She was staring at them in dismay, turning the jeans over and over in her hands.  Spike bent down with a snicker and handed her a large t-shirt and a pair of elastic waisted shorts, taking the other clothes from her.

"Thanks," she mumbled, quickly changing into the makeshift pajamas.

Spike didn't look, though he was tempted.  "Done?" he asked politely.  She nodded.  "Good, let's go to bed."

"Um, wait."

Thinking she was stalling, Spike growled in impatience.  "What now?"  Being a vampire, Spike had longer staying powers than humans, he also didn't need as much sleep as humans, but the magic he'd been hit with had sapped him, and he was dead on his feet, which is why he didn't care that he was scaring the girl he had to sleep with.  ~Stupid, bloody humans!~  "Do you need a glass of warm milk?" he taunted.

Willow sneered at him.  "Fine, you want to wake up as a crispified vampire, I don't care."  She shrugged, looking at the French doors, unconcerned.

"Christ," Spike swore.  Together they got some blankets out and hung them from the curtain rods across the top.  Clothes pins secured them in place, and Spike just about collapsed right there when they were through.

Willow looked tired herself.  "Sleep now," she whispered, crawling under the covers, obviously forgetting that she was going to sleep on the floor.

Spike turned off the bedside lamp, curled himself around the sleeping redhead and fell asleep.

~~~*~~~

Willow woke up slowly, trying to figure out what had awakened her.  She laid still, staring at the dark ceiling.  There it was again.  Oz was nuzzling her neck.  Willow smiled to herself, stretching out languidly.  Bare skin touched sheets, and Oz's skin.  Her pajamas were no longer on her body, and she wondered just how he'd managed the task without waking her up.

"Mmm," she moaned on a long drawn out sigh.  "That feels good."  She ran her hand down his naked back, holding him close.  She loved this.  Waking up in Oz's arms, feeling wanted, and loved.  There was nothing else like it in the world.

She let her eyes slide shut, and gave herself up to just feeling.  His lips gently traced along her neck, jaw, and cheek, before settling on her mouth.  She sucked in a breath at the contact, feeling a jolt of familiar electricity shoot through her.  It seemed to be stronger tonight, but she didn't stop to wonder why.  Her hands moved along his back, and her legs entwined with his, encouraging more contact.  His hand caressed her stomach, and hips, his touch so soft and gentle, that she was being lulled back to sleep.

It wasn't until she reached up to her lover's neck that she realized something was... off.  Oz didn't wear necklaces, at least not to bed.  And, now that she thought about it, he seemed to be a little taller than she remembered.  And had he always been this cold?

Realization dawned just as the vampire bit her neck and entered her.  Willow screamed as pain shot through her neck, and into her head.  She hit and kicked at the vampire above her.  He stopped feeding, and held himself still.  His fangs left her neck painfully, and she heard a muffled curse, then silence.

She felt like she was suffocating.  He wasn't moving, and she thought she'd throw up if he didn't get off of her.

"Get off, get off, get off," she repeated over and over, pushing at his chest, and trying to crawl out from under him.

He roughly grabbed her swinging arms and pinned them above her head.  "Hold still," he ground out.

More pain lanced through her head, seeming to ricochet around her brain, stopping just behind her eyes.  Feeling even more miserable than before, she whispered, "Don't kill me."

Another curse was followed by a sudden flurry of movement.  Her hands were released, and her bedside lamp switched on.  She had to close her eyes against the glare, but a few seconds later, she opened her eyes to find Spike above her, an equally surprised look on his face.

Spike was the last person she'd expected to find.  Truth be told, as soon as she realized it was a vampire, she'd expected it to be Angelus.  Use her, abuse her, and toss her on Buffy's doorstep.  That was Angelus' game, so it was with some surprise that she saw Spike, his hair disheveled, his eyes wide, his chest bare.  On top of her.  Inside of her.

"What the hell is going on?"  His eyes took in the room around him, his frown thunderous.

Willow swallowed hard, not wanting to anger him.  "I-- I was asleep.  I assume you were too... I thought you were Oz."

"Thanks a lot."  He stared down at her, his eyes shifting from her face to her neck.  "The bond.  Right.  God, I hate this blasted town, and if you don't stop moving, I'm gonna--" he cut himself off with a sigh.

Willow's eyes widened.  Was he going to kill her?  "What?"

"Bloody well finish what I started," he ground out.

"Oh," was all Willow could say.  She stopped pushing at him.  Facing her currently blanket-covered French doors, she closed her eyes and waited for him to climb off of her.

"Yeah, oh," he started to say, then shifted slightly.

Thinking he was finally vacating her personal space, she was quite surprised when she felt his tongue on her neck, licking at the blood there.  She resumed her struggles, pushing at his chest.  "What are you doing?" she practically screamed.

He growled at her.  Actually growled.  "I told you to hold still, not bare your bloody neck to me.  Do you know how long it's been since I've had warm, human blood?"  His voice had softened, almost reverently.  He sounded like he was in heaven.  And he hadn't stopped licking and sucking at her blood yet.

"Two years?" she hazarded.  "Um, could you stop?  Please?  'Cause, it's kinda gross, and I don't want to die."

He didn't stop, didn't even acknowledge her.

"Spike?"  She was getting scared again.  His fangs were scraping against her neck, and she could feel the want and need he had to just sink his fangs into her and drain her dry.  He was resisting, but she knew he was losing the battle.  "Buffy won't be happy if you kill me."

Instead of startling him into stopping, the mention of Buffy seemed to settle matters.  He bit her, eagerly drawing her blood into his mouth, and slid his hands under her back, pressing her closer to him.

Panicked now, Willow pulled her trapped hands free and clawed at his back.  "Spike!  Stop!"  She felt a tingling down her own back, and arched against him, trying to ease the sudden burning there.

Spike lifted his head, staring at her with yellow eyes, and demonic ridges.  His fangs glistened with her blood.  She shrank away from him, trying her best to disappear into the mattress.  He licked his lips and smirked at her, obviously caught in the midst of bloodlust.

~Oh, God, oh God, oh God,~ she repeated in her mind, knowing he was about to kill her. ~Just do it quick.~

His smirk grew, and he pressed himself against her.  "Quick?  Now where would be the fun in that?"  He pressed his mouth to hers, and forced his tongue between her lips.

Willow, tasting her own blood, tried to pull away, but it only made him chuckle.  "Spike, you don't want to do this.  You don't want me.  You want Buffy.  Remember Buffy?  You love Buffy."

Spike sighed explosively.  "Bloody hell, woman, I'm a vampire, not a bleedin' dog."

"Well stop acting like a dog in heat and I'll stop talking to you like one," she shot back, her fear fading slowly when he kept his fangs to himself.

"Watch it, girl, the chip's not giving me any pain, remember?  I could easily kill you.  Still might."

Oh, and the fear was back, along with an added bonus of disgust.  "No, that's okay.  I don't need killing.  I'm good.  But, um, could you get off of me?  You're heavy and I need to breathe occasionally."

~Stupid chit wants me to get off of her?  Not in this lifetime.~  "Can't."

Willow frowned, hearing his inner monologue.  "What do you mean you can't?  What happened to not liking pain with your pleasure?"

His eyebrows raised in surprise.  "You're in pain?"  When she nodded, he grinned at her.  "I can fix that."

She opened her mouth to protest, but what came out was a sigh when Spike kissed her.  His lips were so soft and tender, so gentle that she couldn't help but enjoy the kiss.  Spike kissage.  Wow.  She'd never imagined that being kissed by Spike could be so pleasurable.  But it was.  "And how," she whispered.

Spike chuckled against her lips, sending a small shiver of desire through her.  His hands, formerly at rest behind her back, were now caressing her stomach and breasts.  His fingers were hard and calloused, his hands warm from touching her.  He slid out and slowly thrust back into her, leaving her gasping.

Her hands went from pushing at him, to holding him to her.  Her tongue dueled with his, her hips arched to meet his, her legs wrapped around him.  The pain was gone, and pleasure had taken over.

As she was nearing orgasm, Spike pulled his mouth from hers, and bit into her neck again.  This time, there wasn't any pain.  Only pleasure.  She tightened around him, biting her lip to keep from screaming his name.  He followed almost immediately, whispering something against her neck.

He rolled off of her and pulled her against him, his legs curling around hers, his arm around her stomach.  Willow relaxed against him with a sigh, vowing to be angry later, when she could storm away from him.

"Told ya," Spike chuckled.

Willow rolled her eyes.  "Gosh, I wonder why Buffy won't have anything to do with you with romantic talk like that."

Spike stiffened and pulled away from her.  "Yeah, let's do bring up Buffy as much as possible."  He sat up, leaning against the wall, and resting an arm on his bent knee.  "Hey, how's the blonde witch doing?  Good?"  He sneered at her, enjoying the guilt that flashed in her eyes.

She sat up, holding the sheet to her chest.  Pulling away from Spike experimentally, she was overjoyed when she didn't fall into convulsions.  Sliding out of bed, she wrapped the sheet around her and glared at him.

"What's the matter?  Buffy a touchy subject?" she asked innocently.

Spike glared at her, not bothering to cover up his own nudity.  "This isn't about Buffy.  Has nothing to do with her."

"Bzzt!  I'm sorry, that's the wrong answer.  The correct answer is; this has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with Buffy."  She grabbed her pajamas off the floor and sat down in her desk chair to put them on.

"How do you figure that?  She wasn't the one I just shagged.  You were."

He stood up, and Willow hastily averted her eyes, busying herself with trying to dress and hold up the sheet at the same time.  While he was occupied with putting on his jeans, she slid her shirt over her head and stepped into her shorts.  He turned back, buttoning his jeans, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips.

"Hey, not in here you don't.  Go outside."  She pushed him toward the French doors.

He shrugged and went outside, sitting in one of the plastic chairs on the small stone patio.  Willow joined him, choosing to lean against the wall with her arms folded over her chest.

"Yeah, you just... uh, shagged me, but only physically.  You were thinking about her."

"And you weren't thinking about the witch?"  He sat back, stretching out his legs, watching her as smoke curled lazily around his head.

Willow laughed out loud at the idea.  "Spike, um, I know you aren't exactly fond of Tara, but you do know she's a girl, right?  And as a girl, she doesn't have a--" Willow's eyes fell to Spike's crotch, and her face started flaming.  "Uh, you know.  So, no, I wasn't thinking about her."

Now it was Spike's turn to laugh.  "How old are you again?  And you can't even say the damn word?  It's called a di--"

"Penis!" Willow interrupted, her face flaming even more.  She pushed away from the wall and went to stand at the edge of the patio, staring into the night.  "God, Spike, do you always have to be so crude?  Never mind," she told him, knowing without looking that he was about to answer with something crude.  Just to spite her.  Jerk.  "Point is, Tara's a girl, you're a guy.  She doesn't have a... penis.  You do.  So, I didn't once think about her."

"And you happen to know I was thinking about Buffy how?  Are you psychic all of a sudden?"

She tossed him a look that just screamed, 'duh!'  "Bonded, remember?"  She heard one of the chairs scrape against the stones behind her.

"And what's the big deal anyway?" he asked, ignoring her interjection.  "It was just sex."

She shrugged, inhaling the cool night air.  "You said Buffy has nothing to do with this."  She turned around, surprised to find him right behind her.  She took a step back and rubbed her arms.  "But she does.  She's the reason it happened at all."

Spike shook his head, disagreeing.  "Not true."

"Is too.  You were dreaming about her when you, um... and I thought you were Oz--"

Spike tossed his cigarette to the grass, and stepped forward menacingly, obviously offended.  "Hey!  Have I got an overabundance of hair?  Don't think so.  And I'm plenty taller than his, what?  Four foot height?"

She rolled her eyes at his exaggeration.  "Well, duh, that's how I figured out that you weren't him.  The height thing, not the hair thing, 'cause, hello, he's not wolfy all the time, and definitely never, ever when we--"  She shuddered in disgust.  "Forget it."  Chilled in the cool air, and wearing a lack of clothing, she went back inside.

Spike followed her through the doors, shutting them behind him.  "And I wasn't dreaming about the Slayer."

Willow sat on her bed, covering up.  "Oh.  Harmony then?"

Spike raised an eyebrow at her.  "In her dreams."

Willow sighed in impatience.  "Dru then.  Whoever.  The point is--"

"Wasn't Dru either."  He sighed regretfully.  "Haven't dreamed about her in a long time."

Running out of people that Spike might have been dreaming about, Willow chewed on her thumbnail.  "Um, Angel?"

Spike shot up out of his chair as if he'd sat on a stake.  "What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" he growled, advancing on her.

Willow pressed back against the wall, out of reach of the irate vampire.  She hoped.  "Um, sorry, Angelus then."

Spike reached out and grabbed her wrist, yanking her toward him.  Nope, not out of reach.  Pain lanced through her arm, reminding her how much she'd been manhandled tonight.  An answering pain shot through her head, and she wondered at it, but forgot it as soon as she saw the fury on Spike's face.

"What kind of sick fantasies have you got swimming around that head of yours?" he hissed, barely controlling himself.

She could see how much he wanted to hurt her, but he didn't make a move against her.  "N-- none.  Um, you're a demon.  Demons are pretty uncaring about who or even what they sleep with... aren't they?" she asked hesitantly, suddenly unsure of her logic.

"We're immoral, is that it?  We don't care if the person or demon is even alive, just as long as it has the right parts?"  Spike shoved her away from him, and she fell to the bed with a bounce.  "Is that what you all think?"

"Well, yeah.  I mean, yeah, you are immoral.  Pretty much, the word describes you to a T.  And I don't know what Buffy thinks.  We've never talked about it."  She rubbed her sore wrist, watching him curiously as he sat back down.  "I just assumed... I mean, aren't vampires supposed to be close to their sires?"

Spike grinned, smirking at her.  "I was.  Dru and I were together for over a hundred years... I'd call that a close relationship.  Darla and Angelus were pretty close too."

Willow sat up, frowning.  "Dru?  Drusilla's your sire?  Wait.  When did this happen?  Angelus is your sire," she told him, realizing even as she said it that he would know better than her who his sire was.  "So you and Angelus never...?"

The smile left his face, replaced by a frown.  "Never.  And if you say it again, I'm going to have to kill you.  I don't like being linked with that poofter.  He may swing that way, but I don't.  Dru, Harmony, Buffy... sensing a pattern here, Red?  Oh, and--" he sucked in a dramatic breath, "you."

Willow yawned and curled up under the covers again.  "Yeah, well, I didn't really have a choice, now did I?  And, um, could you sort of... not tell anyone.  Not that you would.  Especially Buffy, 'cause she'd probably kill you right then and there."

Spike snapped his fingers in an 'aw shucks' fashion.  "Oh, darn, there goes my plan to rush over to Buffy's house and tell her that I just shagged her best friend.  And here I was, thinking she'd high five me and drag me to bed," he said dryly.

"Okay, you're just abusing sarcasm now."

Spike laughed at the disgruntled look on her face.  "You expected differently, pet?  I'm immoral, remember?"

Willow shook her head tiredly.  Exhaustion had settled over her once more.  "Nope."

She was drifting off to sleep just as Spike left the room.  "Thanks for the shag, Witch."

Spike went downstairs, and grabbed a bag of blood from the fridge.  Draining it into a mug, he heated it in the microwave and sat at the table to drink it.  He wasn't hungry, but he needed to do something to get the taste of Willow's blood out of his mouth and his mind.  It was so rich and full of innocence and magic that he was tempted to kidnap her and tie her up somewhere, to feed off of her.  She wasn't just a one time meal.  She was someone to keep around for a long time.

Plus there was that whole bond thing still happening.

She hadn't realized it yet, but they were still bound.  The pain from his implant hadn't hurt him since the Litchock demon attacked them.  It was still there, and still working, but Willow was getting the pain.

He could hurt humans again.  Kill them.  But would he?  He wanted to... more than anything he wanted to walk out that door and become a hunter again.  Stalk his prey like a good vampire should.

So, why wasn't he?

The answer was simple; Buffy, and Willow.  If it weren't for the bond with Willow, he wouldn't care what she thought, but she was connected to him, and she would know.  Then Buffy would too.

Spike downed the last bit of blood in the mug, and headed back upstairs.  The continuation of the bond was a mystery to him.  It should have ended.  Giles said physical contact was needed for the duration of the bond, but that had ended sometime earlier, and they were still bound.  So far, he was getting the better part of the deal.

Willow got the pain from his implant, and, he suspected, anything else that caused him pain.  He'd seen her wince when she scraped her nails down his back.  What did he get out of the bond?

Knowing his luck, he'd get her emotions.

He paused in her doorway, watching her as she slept.  She was in the same position she'd been in when he left the room.  One hand under her cheek, the other resting on top of the covers.  She looked peaceful.  Sweet.  Tasty.

Shaking his head, he stripped off his jeans and climbed back into bed with her.  Why waste an opportunity?  She was a good shag.  He pulled her back against his chest, and brushed her hair off of her neck, inhaling her scent.

~Part: 4~

Willow leaned against the wall outside the Magic Box for a few seconds before heading inside.  Giles had called her, wanting more information about the Litchock demon for his records.  After a lengthy hot shower in which she'd scrubbed every drop of dried blood off of her, she dressed and headed over to the shop.  Her thoughts had been blessedly her own since waking up.  No sign of Spike in her head.  The bond was gone.

Blame was a living thing, and hers was crawling around inside of her, just beneath the surface, trying to find a way out.  She couldn't let that happen.  She would keep this to herself.  Nobody need know that she'd had sex with Spike.

Taking one last deep breath, Willow checked the square of white gauze on her neck, made sure her collar covered it, and went inside, ready to face everyone.  To her surprise, the shop was empty aside from Giles and a lone customer.  Giles was behind the counter ringing up a sale.  She went up to the counter with a smile, hoping Giles wouldn't choose this moment to be super observant.

"Hi, Giles.  Where's everyone at?"  She cast a look toward the training room.  "Buffy back there?"

Giles looked up from the cash register with a smile.  "Uh, no, she and Dawn went grocery shopping."  He handed the customer a bag.  "Thank you, come again."  Giles went around the counter as the customer left.  "Today is Anya's day off, and she and Xander are... actually, I don't know where they are.  Um, the bond?  Since Spike's not with you, I assume it's ended?"

"Yeah, early this morning sometime.  So, what'd ya need?"  She sat at the table and peered idly at a few of the books spread there.  They looked pretty boring.  Even for her.

"Information.  I couldn't find out anything more about the Litchock, so, I thought maybe you could answer a few questions."  He sat down in the chair next to her, pencil and pad ready.  "What made you and Spike decide to go after the demon when it ran?"

"Um, I don't know about Spike, but I was doing a spell, and the demon ran before I could use it.  You know how magic builds up and fills your entire being?" she asked excitedly.

Giles shook his head, frowning at the excitement on her face.  "Not personally, no.  I've read about it, and seen it.  You need to be very careful, willow."

Willow waved her hand dismissively.  "I know, I know.  Anyway, I needed an outlet so I didn't end up killing Buffy or Xander accidentally.  I figured I'd follow the demon, hit it with the magic and then Spike could kill the ugly thing."

Giles was scribbling away in his notepad, gesturing for her to continue.

"Spike found it first, and was just about to attack it when I found them.  The demon saw me, and kind of looked at me and Spike and then it shot this black ball of magic.  I tried to move out of the way, but... Spike apparently wanted to do his one heroic deed for the month that night, and shoved me the other way, and I ended up right back in the path of the magic."

"Do you think he did it purposely?" Giles asked, looking up.

Willow chuckled.  "No.  No, he was pushing me out of the way.  My hero," she deadpanned.

"Wait a minute.  A black ball?  Buffy never mentioned a black light.  She said it was red.  This could change everything.  I'll have to..."  He started to get up, but Willow stopped him.

"Hold on.  There was a red one too, but that was after the black one."  She sighed, getting more comfortable.  "See, the black one hit me in the stomach and went through Spike's hand, 'cause he was still touching me."

Giles paused in his writing.  "Did the magic travel through you into Spike?  Or simply hit him as well?"

"Traveled through me into Spike.  Anyway, um, nothing happened.  From the black ball, I mean.  Then came the red one.  It was huge, like three feet around, it lit up the whole area.  The demon threw it at Spike, knocking him back.  I went to check on Spike, and the magic went through me, same as the first one did through Spike.  It hurt for a few seconds, then I blacked out."

Giles finished writing and looked up at her.  "That's it?"

Willow nodded.  "That's it," she confirmed.

"And the mid conversation the two of you were having when you woke up on my couch?"

She shrugged.  "I woke up with a headache in some kind of... corridor, and ran into him.  The bond was working, and then there was an exit.  I went through it, pulling him with me, and that's when we woke up.  End of story."

Giles set his pad and pencil down with a nod.  "And after you left my apartment?  What happened then?  Did the bond grow stronger, weaker, remain the same?"

Willow thought about it for a minute.  "Same, I think."

"And Spike behaved himself last night?"  He chuckled at his own question.  "As much as a soulless vampire who can't hurt anyone can behave."

Uh-oh.  Lying time.  "Yeah, just like that."  Feeling a small tingling in her hand, she scratched at it.  The tingling turned into a burning and she frowned down at her hand.  It felt like it was on fire, and the burning was growing more and more intense.  An equally painful jab shot briefly through her head, then faded away.  "Giles?  My hand... um, water, I need water.  My hand's on fire.  Giles!"  She was screaming now, jumping up from her chair, and knocking it over.

Giles grabbed her hand and looked down at it.  There was nothing there.  It was the normal unblemished skin she always had on her hand.  Giles shrugged helplessly.  "Willow, I don't see anything."  He pulled her into the bathroom beside the training room and shoved her hand under the faucet, turning on the cold water.

"Ow.  It feels like it's on fire."  Turning her hand around, she examined the tender skin.  It felt hot, but was unmarred.  "Feel that," she told him, holding up her hand.

Giles lightly touched the skin on the back of her hand and pulled back quickly, obviously not expecting to feel such heat pouring off of her.  "Good Lord.  Does it still hurt?"

Willow shook her head.  "No, it's fading.  Almost gone."  She looked up at him, taking the towel he handed her.  "What's going on?"

"I don't know.  It must have something to do with the Litchock demon, or the magic it used.  Or the bond.  We should get hold of Spike and see if he's felt anything similar."

They left the bathroom, and nearly ran into Buffy.  Buffy raised an eyebrow at the sight of them leaving the bathroom together.  Her eyebrow raised even further when she saw Willow wiping her hand off with a towel.

"Um, what's going on?" she asked, looking a bit nauseated.

Giles sighed explosively.  "Good God, Buffy, not what you're thinking."  He walked away, muttering, "You've been hanging around Spike too much."

Willow waited until he was behind the counter before making a disgusted face.  "Ew," she whispered.  "He's my mentor, my father-figure, and not my anything else.  You're really disgusting, you know that?"

"I know."  Buffy nodded, laughing a little.  "I disgusted even myself.  I think Giles is right.  I've been hanging around Spike too much."  She frowned a little and shook her head.  "I need to not do that, I think."

Willow kept her mouth shut on how much she'd been hanging around Spike lately, and sat down, randomly grabbing a book.  "Gonna research with us?"

Buffy shook her head with a laugh.  "Nope.  I just stopped by to drop off the coffee Giles asked me to get.  And I did.  And so, I'm gone.  Bye."

Giles waved absently, already absorbed in his books again.  "Mm-hmm."

Buffy left, leaving Willow to her thoughts.

Foremost among them, was Spike.  When she woke up that afternoon, he had been asleep beside her, and though she'd been surprised to find him there, she hadn't woken him up.  Why had he climbed back into bed with her after she fell asleep?  He'd already gotten... well, okay, he hadn't been there purposely for sex, but he'd gotten it anyway.  And the bond was broken.

So why had he stayed?

And not just in her house, but her bed.  That's when it hit her.  Oh, my God, I not only slept with Spike, I had sex with Spike.  Willingly.  And she wasn't sorry about it either.  She had expected to feel extreme guilt and shame, but she didn't.

Was Spike sorry?

She shook her head.  It didn't matter.  She wasn't sorry, and if he was... oh well.

Spike was a vampire.  He hurt people for a living.  It was his whole life.  Killing, feeding, torturing, maiming, murdering.  What was a little meaningless sex thrown in?  Not much, to a vampire.

The burning sensation in her hand had dissipated, leaving only a slight tingling feeling.  She stared down at it, wondering what had happened.

A sharp pain in her chest sent her to her feet, and she stared down at her white blouse, expecting to see blood seeping through, but there wasn't any.

What the heck was going on?  First her hand caught on fire, without the actual catching on fire part, then her chest starts bleeding, only without the actual bleeding part.  What was happening to her?

Sudden pain in her stomach forced her to her knees, and she collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.  Tears slid down her cheeks, and a sob escaped her.  She'd never felt pain like this.  Never.

"Oh, God," she whispered, barely noticing Giles calling her name.  She gasped desperately for air, but couldn't seem to find any.  "I can't breathe."  She gulped in huge amounts of air, but still felt like she was suffocating.  And the pain.  Oh, God, the pain was so immense that her vision was blacking out.  Small dark circles flashed in front of her eyes.

Giles laid Willow on the floor and looked her over, expecting to see a wound of some kind, but he couldn't find anything.  She was unconscious now, her breathing had returned to normal, and she seemed to be coming out of... whatever had happened to her.

She stirred slightly, drawing in a breath.  Her eyes fluttered open.  She grabbed her stomach and curled into a ball, rolling onto her side with a moan.  "It hurts so much," she whispered.

Giles gently pried her hands away from her stomach and lifted her shirt.  He sucked in a breath at the mottled bruising there.  Her whole abdomen was covered in black, blue, green and yellow bruises.  When he lightly pressed his fingers to the flesh, she screamed and shoved his hands away.

"Spike!"  She sat up, knowing somehow that Spike was in trouble.  A voice, something, was whispering in the back of her mind, telling her to get to him.

Giles tried to hold her down, but she shoved him away.  "Willow, calm down.  What is it?  Spike--"

"Is hurt... at my house.  That's where I left him."  She was looking around her, wincing every time she moved.  "Keys?" she asked, waiting for Giles to catch on.  When he didn't, she grabbed his arm and started pulling him toward the front door of the shop.  "Car keys.  I need to get over there.  Nobody knew he was there.  Why would someone hurt him at my house?"  Her eyes widened.  "Buffy?"

Giles allowed her to pull him out of the shop, but made sure he stopped to lock the door before leaving.  "How do you know Spike is hurt?" he asked, trying to calm her down as he hurried her to his car in front of the shop.

She shook her head, near tears again.  "I just do.  I think the bond is still working.  I thought it ended, but now it's like..." she struggled for words.  "I can't explain it.  I just know that he's hurt, and there's so much pain," she whispered.

~Part: 5~

Willow was staring straight ahead, willing the car to go faster.  The pain in her stomach had lessened by a fraction, but she was trying to ignore it.  "Giles hurry."

"Um, not to say that your concern isn't warranted, but, why are you so worried about Spike... aside from the obvious bond issues, of course?"

Willow didn't know how to answer that.  She didn't care for Spike... did she?  Not wanting to look too deeply into her reasoning, she said the first thing that came to mind.  "It's just the bond.  What if he dies while I'm still bound to him?" she asked.  That wasn't the answer, and she knew it.  She would be upset if Spike died.  Would mourn him.  When had that happened?  In the two years he'd been helping them, she'd gotten to know him... and like him.  Just a bit.

Giles pressed harder on the gas pedal at her words, and came to a screeching halt in front of her house a few minutes later.  They both jumped out of the car, racing up to the door.  Willow had to take the time to unlock it, while Giles pounded on it, and rang the doorbell.

She got it open and ran inside, bumping into a surprised Spike.  The two of them went crashing to the floor, landing in a heap at Giles' feet.

Willow winced in pain and rolled off of Spike, kneeling for a few seconds, trying to catch her breath.  She saw blood on her hands and turned wide, frightened eyes toward Spike.  He was lying on the floor, holding his stomach with one arm, his eyes closed.

"Spike?"  She grabbed his arm, and shook him.

Giles leaned down and helped Willow up.  "He's unconscious.  Do you have some extra blood in the house?"

"I don't know."  She started toward the kitchen to check, but Giles stopped her with a calm hand on her arm.

"Wait.  Help me move him to the couch first.  Are you all right?"

She nodded, and grabbed Spike's right arm.  Giles grabbed his other arm, and they lifted him up, dragging him into the living room.  They set him down in front of the couch, both of them panting and sweating.  After a few minutes of struggling, and weird balancing acts, they finally got him onto the couch.  Willow ran to see if there was any extra blood in the fridge.  There wasn't.

When she got back to the living room, Giles was lightly tapping Spike's face.  Willow had the feeling that he wanted to hit Spike harder, but was afraid of hurting her.

"There's no blood in the kitchen.  I can go to Willy's--"

Giles stood up, taking out his car keys.  "I'll go.  Will you be all right on your own?"  He paused at the door, waiting.

Willow smiled at the older man.  "I'm fine.  Go."  He didn't move right away.  "Giles, go.  He needs to eat."

Giles nodded and left.

Willow went upstairs to get the first aid kit and a wash cloth from the pantry, and then headed back downstairs.  In the kitchen, she grabbed a large bowl and filled it with water, carrying it carefully to the living room.  She knelt down beside the couch and set the bowl of warm water in front of her.  Dropping the cloth in the bowl, she opened the first aid kit, taking out the gauze and tape she'd used on herself earlier.

Taking a steadying breath, Willow slid her hands under the edges of his black t-shirt.  The shirt was covered in blood, making it stick to his stomach and the wound underneath.  She hesitated to pull it away, thinking it would cause him more pain, but then she realized that she had to do it.  So she slowly pulled it up, exposing the wound underneath.  A few twinges of dull pain itched along her own abdomen as she lifted it.

She drew in a breath and let it hiss out between her teeth.  "Oh, yuck," she whispered to herself.  "I don't do well with icky bloody things."  Nevertheless, she exposed the rest of his stomach and sat back on her heels, examining the stake induced hole in the vampire's abdomen.

Wringing out the wash cloth, she set to work cleaning the area surrounding the actual wound.  Spike didn't move once during her ministrations, which made her worry that maybe he was losing too much blood at once.  Vampires could die of blood loss too, couldn't they?

Maybe he wasn't feeling any pain due to the simple fact that she seemed to be getting most of his pain for him.  Her stomach was sore, and felt rubbed raw, but it was distant this time, not as painful as it had been at the Magic Box.

The wound was clean and she was pressing the last piece of tape to his flesh, when she felt him wake up.

"It's about time.  I thought you were gonna sleep all day."  She sighed and looked up at him.

His normally pale face was almost translucent, his cheeks, always pronounced, were now sunken in, giving him a shadowed and sickly look.  "You look terrible."

He laughed a bit, but stopped and winced in pain.  Holding his stomach, he sat up carefully, watching her clean up the mess of bloody water, and gauze.  "Thanks.  You're not looking so terrific yourself, you know?"  He ran a finger down her cheek.  "All those tears for me, love?"

Willow snorted.  Now that she was here with him, where she could see him, and help if need be, she felt remarkably better.  "Arrogant, aren't you?  No.  Those were from... something else."  He didn't need to know about the particulars of the bond right then and there, did he?  Giving him something to use against her, or Buffy, probably wasn't a good idea.

She took the bowl into the kitchen, aware that Spike was following her.  She set it in the sink and washed her hands, avoiding the questions she knew he was going to ask.  Turning around to face him, she jumped nearly a foot when she found him right behind her.

She rolled her eyes and side-stepped him.  "Would you stop doing that?" she complained, sitting at the kitchen table.  "Who staked you?  Anyone I know?"

Spike joined her at the table, sitting down on the chair across from her.  "Xander."  He chuckled humorlessly.  "Guess he had some issues to deal with."

"What?" Willow exclaimed, jumping to her feet.  "Xander staked you?  Is he stupid?"  Spike opened his mouth to answer and she shot him a look.  "Don't answer that.  He's not stupid, he's just... he seems to have a problem with vampires.  Can't get past that whole maiming and killing thing."

"Yeah," Spike said, sounding distracted, "some people just came seem to get past that."

Silence fell between them, each one caught up in their own thoughts.  Giles came into the kitchen a few minutes later, carrying a brown paper bag.  He unceremoniously plopped it down in front of Spike.

"Thanks," Spike mumbled, rising to heat up some of the blood.

Giles sat down.  "Are you all right now, Willow?"  He stopped and frowned when she put a finger to her lips, and shook her head frantically.  "Um...?"  Completely at a loss, he looked from Willow to Spike, who was leaning against the counter, looking curious.

Willow eyed the blonde vampire.  Still curious.  Damn.  She really didn't want Spike to know the full extent of the bond.  If he knew about it at all, Xander would most likely be dead right now... who's to say he wasn't?  She spun around, staring at Spike, who simply stared back.

"Where's Xander?" she asked sociably.

Spike grinned and rolled his eyes, managing to look irritated and amused at the same time.  "He left.  Probably at Buffy's as we speak trying to convince her to let him kill me."  His eyes darkened, and she knew he was thinking about how much he depended on them for his own survival.  Being an independent creature, it wasn't something that sat well with him.

"Oh.  Probably, yeah."  She looked down at her hands, unable to look at him anymore without wanting to blurt out that he was sort of free now.  Free to hunt and kill her kind.  Oy.  Bad idea.

Giles shook his head in confusion.  "What does Xander have to do with this?  And Willow, I'd appreciate it if you let me look at your stomach just to make sure you're all right."

"What's wrong with her stomach?" Spike asked Giles, downing a mug of blood before heating up another one.

Willow sighed and turned to Giles, answering his first question.  "Xander was the one that staked Spike.  I don't know why," she said, forestalling his questions.

Spike was sipping his second mug of blood slowly.  "And your stomach?"  He was watching her over the mug as he drank and she had the distinct feeling that he already knew, and was just waiting for her to say it first.

She shrugged and stood up.  "Pain's mostly gone."  She lifted her shirt a bit, showing Spike and Giles the fading bruises.  Only they weren't fading.  She frowned, looking down at the mottled skin that completely covered her abdomen.

"Good Lord, Willow," Giles said with a wince.  "It's worse than before.  And the pain is almost gone?"

Willow nodded, still staring down at her unrecognizable tummy.  "Uh-huh.  By the looks of this, I should be in some major pain."  She looked up when Spike came up beside her.  "Do you hurt a lot?"

Spike shook his head.  "No.  I have a higher tolerance than you do."  His hand pressed lightly into her flesh.  She hissed in pain and jerked away from him.  "Also, that wasn't caused by me getting staked.  That's something else altogether."

Willow sat down, lowering her shirt.  "Is too.  I felt it.  It was like... something incredibly sharp was being shoved into my stomach.  And I knew you were hurt."  She pointed to his hand, which was unmarked.  "You burned your hand, and something happened to your chest.  Here," she settled her hand over her own chest.  "Just above your heart.  Um..."

She stood up and turned around, looking down her shirt.  Turning back to face them, she lowered the lapel of her shirt just a tiny bit, enough for them to see the bruise there.

Spike sat down across from her again.  "Yeah, I burned my hand closing the bloody curtains over the humongous window out there."  He hooked a thumb behind him, indicating the living room.  "Wasn't a bad burn though.  Had worse."

"What happened with Xander?  Why did he stake you?" Giles asked the vampire.  His voice was almost accusatory, and Willow had to stop herself from griping at him for it.

Spike shrugged, grinning.  "He's a bloody moron, what more reason does he need?"  Both Willow and Giles glared at him, and he rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair.  "All right, all right.  He came here looking for Willow, and didn't like seeing me here."

Willow waited for more, but that was all he offered.  "That's it?  He didn't like finding you here, so he staked you?  Why do I get the feeling there's more?"

"He didn't like the way I was dressed either."  He grinned at Willow and winked.  "I think he was defending your honor, or something equally as heroic as that."

Willow fell silent, hoping against hope that Spike took a hint better than Giles did, and kept quiet about their adventure last night.  Her hopes were dashed when Giles' eyes widened, looking from her to Spike, then back again.

"And how exactly were you dressed?" he asked the vampire.

Spike shrugged, letting his eyes roam over Willow.  "Who says I was dressed?"

Willow put a hand on Giles' arm, keeping him from jumping up and, by the looks of him, pounding Spike's face into a pulp.  "Giles, nothing happened.  When will you and Xander learn?  He's taunting you."

Giles calmed considerably, but felt the need to threaten Spike anyway.  "Understand this, Spike, normally I don't get involved in who the kids choose to be with, but if you even attempt to use this bond to get near Willow or Buffy, I'll kill you."

Willow was watching Spike, noting how tense his jaw was, how narrow his eyes became, and how much her palms were hurting.  Raising her hands, she stared down at them.  Little half moons of blood dotted the flesh of both palms.

"Giles, enough," she warned him, showing him her hands.  "You hurt him, it hurts me... doesn't that kind of make it a moot point?  Besides, he didn't kill Xander."

"Of course not.  The implant--"

"Gives me his pain.  He knew that when Xander came here... didn't you?"  She looked toward Spike, who was rubbing a thumb across his palm.

"Yeah, so?" he asked impatiently.  "Doesn't mean anything."

"I was there... sort of.  I felt the implant go off.  I also felt it stop.  You could've killed him, but you didn't."

He stopped rubbing his hand long enough to glare at them.  "Again... so?  Didn't have anything to do with you.  Or Buffy."

"Okay.  Point being, you can't do it, and you know it.  You kill one of us, it'll probably kill me, which might just kill you.  Period.  So you can't hurt us."  She was as much telling Spike as she was explaining it to Giles.

"Right.  Exactly.  Thanks for the info."  Spike stood up and left the room.  She heard him go upstairs, and wondered if he'd gone to her room.

"Giles, we're safe.  Tell Xander, and, um... could you keep this from Buffy for as long as possible?  She has a lot going on right now, what with being newly alive and all.  She doesn't need this to worry about too."

Giles considered her request for a few minutes, then nodded.  "All right.  I'll tell Xander and Anya what's going on and try to get them to keep quiet about it.  And yes, I'll tell Xander to stop staking Spike, but once he finds out that you're still linked, he'll back off on his own."  He stood up with a sigh and headed out of the kitchen with Willow right behind him.  "I'll take Spike with me.  Shall I get him, or do you want to?"

Willow wondered how best to tell him what she was about to tell him.  She knew he was going to try to talk her out of it... maybe even physically drag Spike out with him.  She wasn't sure what he'd do, but she was sure it wasn't going to be pleasant.  Like the rest of the day has been, she thought dryly.

"My parents are going to be gone the entire summer.  And with the bond being... unpredictable, I thought it might be best if he stayed here.  Besides-- protection.  Um, against... ooo!  Humans too now.  Okay, not a great thing, but he can make sure burglars, or... other evil people don't end up killing me in the middle of the night."  Willow smiled weakly, knowing how pathetic her argument had sounded.

To her surprise, Giles laughed.  "I actually agree with you.  For now.  When we find out more about this blasted bond, I might change my mind, but by then... who knows?"  He tossed a glare up the stairs and patted her shoulder awkwardly.  "Good night, Willow."

Willow smiled and walked him to the door.  "Night, Giles, and thanks."

She locked the door behind him and was about to turn off the downstairs lights when she saw the big bloody stain on the tile floor.  With a groan, she headed back to the kitchen, turning the water on to let it heat up.  Mop, bucket and cleaner were all pulled out of the small closet by the back door and readied.

After cleaning the floor and her hands, she headed up to her room.  Was Spike up there?  Or had he left?  Pushing open her bedroom door, she was a little disappointed to find it empty.  And why is that? she asked herself.  He's a nuisance of a vampire.  A jerk.  Oh, and evil, let's not forget evil.

He didn't kill Xander when he very easily could have.

No, but he practically forced himself on you last night.  Seduced you.  Didn't give you a chance to say no.  Yeah, right.  That was a laugh.  She had plenty of time to say no, but didn't.  She'd been enjoying herself, enjoying him, and the attention he paid her.  Even Tara didn't make her feel like that.

Tara!

She hadn't talked to her in two days.  Tara was probably worried sick.  Willow sat in her desk chair and dialed her girlfriend's number.

Tara picked up on the fourth ring.  "Hello?"

Willow smiled.  "Hi, it's me.  I'm sorry I didn't call you last night like I promised."

"That's okay."  Willow could hear the smile in Tara's voice, that sweet, tender smile she had, that turned up the corners of her mouth, lighting up her whole face.  "Did something happen during patrol?"

Willow chuckled ruefully.  "Yup, and it's a doozy.  Um, see... we were patrolling, and this demon came from out of nowhere, attacking us with magic.  And Spike-- do you know what a bond is?"

"Yeah.  Oh, Spike didn't get bound to Buffy did he?" Tara asked, sounding worried all of a sudden.

"Um, no," Willow answered, stalling for time.

She could hear Tara's relieved sigh across the phone line.  "Oh, good.  'Cause bonds are dangerous.  Especially when one of the bound is a vampire.  So, what happened then?"

"Uh, the demon, a Litchock demon by the way, took off running, and Spike went after it."  She paused, and took a deep breath.  "And I was doing this spell, to knock it away from Buffy and Xander?  And it ran before I could use the spell.  So, I went after it."

"No," Tara whispered.

Willow nodded, even though Tara couldn't see her.  She was close to tears, knowing she was about to drop a huge bombshell on Tara and not being able to reassure her about it.  Any of it.

"Yeah.  I didn't mean it to happen, Tara, it just did, and I figured it would go away, and I wouldn't have to tell you until afterwards.  It went away, but it came back again... stronger than before."

She could hear Tara's breathing speed up, until she was almost hyperventilating.  "You slept with him?" she asked, accusation and hurt pouring through the four little words.  "I can't believe you slept with him," she whispered.  "I-- I... um, I have to go... I can't-- I'll call you tomorrow..."

Tara hung up the phone and Willow calmly hung up her end as well.  Tears gathered in her eyes, and she swiped at them, trying so hard not to cry, and failing miserably.

She went into the bathroom, and turned on the shower, needing to wash away the pain and the hurt she felt.  The betrayal she'd heaped on Tara.  The loss she already felt at losing her lover.  She turned the water up as hot as she could stand it and undressed.  Standing under the spray of steamy water, she felt a little better.  She washed away the stress of the day, and dried off quickly.  Not bothering to dress or comb her hair, Willow slid naked under the covers and curled up, crying herself to sleep.

~~~*~~~

Spike pushed open the French doors to Willow's room, and went inside, just beating the sun.  He dropped his bag of clothes by the door, and checked to make sure the blanket covered the window completely.  Undressing, he wondered why he'd come back.

She probably didn't even want him here.  He was pretty amazed that Giles had left her here alone.  But he had, there was only the single heartbeat in the house, and the smell of Willow.  A clean, and freshly showered Willow.  He inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of her.  Not her blood this time, no, just the pure smell of Willow.  It was nice.  Not overwhelming like other women got sometimes with their excesses of perfume and lotion and all that other crap they slathered on.  No, this was all Willow.

She didn't wear perfume, he knew.  Buffy did.  She wore just the tiniest hint of Jasmine.  Not an unpleasant smell, but it was forever there.  Permeating his senses, stirring longings in him.  Desire for her.  Even when she wasn't around.  Every time he smelled Jasmine, he turned, expecting to see her there, but it wasn't always her.  Not so with Willow.  He always knew when she was around.  She was the only woman with that particular scent.  It belonged to her, she owned it.  It was a nice smell.

Naked, Spike climbed into bed beside Willow, spooning her lightly, not wanting to wake her up and have her kick him out.  But almost as soon as he touched her, she rolled over and pressed herself against him.  Every inch of her.  Another familiar smell assaulted him.  He leaned back a bit, tipping her face up to his.  She'd been crying.  He pressed her head against his chest again, and kissed her hair.

Damn she smelled good.

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