She saw it in what seemed like slow motion.  The knife closing in and finally
neatly cutting.  She couldn't stop it and would later wonder why.  She was
young and agile.  Why not just move her hand before the knife reached it?
Hindsight is always 20/20.

"Dammit."  Willow quietly hissed to herself, hoping that no one else was
around to hear the uncharacteristic curse part from her lips.  She quickly
swept the food away from the small pool of blood forming on the countertop.
The tip of her index finger was covered in blood and beginning to throb.  She
didn't think she sliced it open *that* badly.

Willow had agreed to cook for the entire Scooby Gang, including Anya and
Riley.  Buffy had been complaining for several weeks that she never got a
good meal at school.  More than willing to please her friends, the red head
had offered to whip up a little something for everyone to eat that Friday
night.  Giles had graciously offered his kitchen for Willow's use.  So,
that's how she got roped into chopping carrots for a salad on Friday night
with a rather long and sharp knife.  No one had arrived yet and she had just
sent Giles out for spices to put into her soup.

"Hurts.  Hurts.  Hurts."  Willow chanted as she cupped her good hand
underneath the injured one to prevent the blood from spilling over and onto
the spotless kitchen floor.  Just as she reached the sink, she heard the door
slam closed.  "Giles?"

"Not quite, Red."  Spike snorted as he swept in and grabbed a bag of blood
out of the refrigerator.  Just as he shut the door to the fridge, Spike
froze, his back turned to Willow and every muscle in his body immobile.

"I smell blood."  The vampire growled, turning on his heel and resting his
eyes on a very uncomfortable witch.  "Are you trying to tease me?  Where is
it?"

"Wha...What are you talking about, Spike?"  She said, attempting to bluff her
way around and out of this situation.

Spike sniffed silently, a look of rapture sweeping over his features.  "Human
blood.  It's been far too long...."  Moaning in pain and longing, he promptly
plopped himself down in a kitchen chair, the bag of blood in his hand
temporarily forgotten in hopes of better things.

Taking pity on him, Willow held up her injured finger, the red rivulets of
blood running down to her palm.  "You're not imagining it.  I cut myself."
She whispered, biting her lower lip lightly.

Spike's eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sight of the liquid.
"Bloody hell, you little tease.  Get the fuck out of here if you're going to
wave that at me.  Dammit!"  Spike jumped up and smacked the counter with the
palm of his hand.  Flinching away, Willow wondered if he had possibly broken
the countertop in two, or maybe three pieces, with the force of the blow.

"Sorry."  The red head murmured, dropping her head and quickly stepping out
of the kitchen.  Just as she reached the doorway, she had an idea.  **No
Willow Rosenburg.  You should not even be thinking this.  No.  I will not.
Will not.  Will not.  But he looks so needy....  Just a little bit won't
hurt.  No one would have to know.  Not really.  Just a little.  No sense in
wasting it.**

Willow turned back around to face Spike, only to find his back turned to her
and his head resting against the wall.  The bag of blood was lying,
forgotten, on the floor.

Cleaning her throat, she spoke up.  "Spike?"

"What?"  He growled in frustration.

"Spike."  Willow insisted, wanting him to turn around and look at her.  She
couldn't verbalize this.  It was just too crazy and stupid.

"I said what."  Spike spun around to look at Willow, his tone menacing.  The
red head took an involuntary step backwards at the sound.

Holding out her injured hand to him, she half-smiled.  "No use in wasting
blood."

The vampire's body took an involuntary step forward before he got himself
under control.  "You know very well I can do that, Red."  He growled low in
his throat.

"Yes, you can."  She answered timidly.  "I don't mind.  Just a little.  And
it won't hurt me since it's already cut and everything."

Spike prowled toward her and stopped just inches from her body.  "You want me
to...?"  His voice trailed off as his eyes watched a drop of blood slide down
her tiny finger, finally stopping at her wrist.

"Yes."

"The Slayer would stake me."

"I won't tell."

It was all Spike need to hear.  Before Willow saw him move, Spike had seized
her hand in both of his and slid her index finger through his lips.  His
touch was very firm, yet somehow very careful of the delicate hand it had in
its grasp.

Willow faintly remembered thinking that her knees were going to buckle as
Spike circled his tongue lazily around the tip of her bleeding finger.  **I
wonder if this is what all that romance novel talk about 'pure, unbridled
lust' is.  Oh Goddess, if he doesn't stop doing that, I think I'm going to
die.**  Willow thought as Spike resumed to gently sucking at the wound.

When Willow's finger was cleaned of blood, Spike slid it out of his mouth and
ran his tongue slowly over her hand, cleaning up the trails of it which had
escaped his talented mouth.  That done, he resumed sucking on her index
finger, hoping to get more blood out of it.  Not entirely satisfied with what
it offered, he attempted to open the wound a little further using his tongue,
only to meet with a small flinch from Willow and a sharp pain through his
head.  Spike abandoned that idea and contented himself with lapping at the
cut, taking what blood he could get.

Willow felt an uncharacteristic urge to throw Spike down on the counter and
rip off every stitch of his clothing.  Just the sensation of his tongue
running up and down her finger, coupled with his firm grip on her hand, made
her start panting like a puppy.  **Oh, this was a bad idea.  Bad.  Bad.
Good.  So good...."

Shaking her head to snap herself out of the surrender, Willow started to
disengage her hand from Spike's grasp.  She heard him quietly growl and pull
her hand back.  "Spike?"  Willow asked, gently retracting her hand.

Spike slowly lifted his eyes from Willow's finger to her face.  "Yes?"  He
responded, barely whispering.

There was a long pause between the two.  Willow wasn't sure what to say, or
if she could say anything.  Spike was simply enraptured by the red head's
willingness to offer her blood to him.

"I know it wasn't much blood, but I thought...."

"I thought it was bloody wonderful, luv."  Spike interrupted, his eyes
riveted to hers.  "Maybe it's just that it's been so long since I've had
human blood, but you taste like nothing I've ever had before."

She wasn't quite sure why she was blushing, but Willow's face took on a
flushed appearance at the unlikely complement from Spike.  "Uh, thanks, I
think."

The witch and vampire both fell into another moment of silence, only to have
it broken by the opening of the front door.  "Wills?  Is dinner ready?  I'm
starving."  Buffy called.  The Slayer was followed closely by Riley.

"Buffy...Buffy.  Hey, I'm, uh, almost done."  Willow stumbled over the words
as she pushed Spike out of the kitchen and started rattling a pot on the
stove.

"Hey!"  Spike whispered indignantly.  "Don't be pushin' me around like that,
Red."

"Spike, please don't tell Buffy."

"Not bloody likely that I'd tell the Slayer.  She'd stake my ass."

"Good.  Oh, I mean that wouldn't be good, but it's good that you're not going
to tell her because that wouldn't be good.  Gezz, I don't know what I'm
talking about anymore."

"Will?"  Buffy asked as she walked into the kitchen.

"Buffy."  Willow squeaked.

"What's going on in here?"

"Nothing."  Both Willow and Spike answered in unison.

Buffy put her hand on her hips and sighed.  "Is he bothering you?"

"Bothering me?  No.  No, of course not.  We were justâ talking.  Right?"

"Right."  Spike affirmed.

"Ok, well I'm going to go in there."  Buffy pointed to the living room.  "And
wait for you to finish cooking.  If you need any help, let me know.  I'm no
master chef, but I try."  Buffy turned to address Spike.  "Why don't you go
elsewhere and leave Willow alone."

"Whatever you say, Slayer."  Spike shrugged.

Buffy flitted off, leaving Spike and Willow alone.  "You shouldâ?¦."  Willow
started to say.

"Yeah."  Spike agreed.

"Because Buffy saidâ?¦."

"Yeah."

"And if she caught usâ?¦."

"Sure."

Suddenly Spike stepped forward and gripped Willow's face between his palms,
pressing his cool lips against her warm ones.  The red head's eyes flew open
in surprise and she put up a minor struggle.  Finally, she threw caution to
the wind and returned his needy and insistent kiss.

"Spike!"  Buffy called menancingly from the living room when she realized
that the vampire had not followed her out of the kitchen.

Spike pulled his lips from Willow's and groaned in frustration and annoyance.
"Coming Slutty."  He answered in a strained voice

Willow offered a stunned half-smile to Spike as he removed his hands from her
face.  The vampire returned her smile with a devilish grin before he turned
to leave.

**Oh, boy.**  Willow thought.  **Did that just happen?  Where is that knife?
Cutting myself just took on some very big perks.**
 

THE END (Yeah, I know that it isn't really a conclusion.  Maybe I'll write a
sequel if the mood hits me.)

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