Rating: NC17
Pairing: Willow/Spike (as it should be)
Spoilers: Through end of season 4 to be safe.
Summary: Willow goes to Giles' to tell him she's going away for a week on vacation.
Notes: Fluff, the whole fluff, and nothing but the fluff. * * indicate emphasis. AU, of course. And YES, I am actually going on vacation, as some of you already know, and I am already lamenting my lack of a computer for a week.
Feedback: It's ALL about the feedback (and naked Spike)! Don't make me beg, it's not pretty.
E-mail: spikedluv@m...
Distribution: If anybody wants it, please take it. Just tell me where it goes so I can keep track...OK, so I can pull it up and just stare at it for a while!
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, just borrowing them for awhile. Everything belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kuzui Enterprises, Grr Argh, the WB, UPN and whoever else they really belong to, although I wouldn't mind having a Spike of my own. Who would?
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"Giles!" Willow opened the door to the Watcher's apartment and called out to him.
"Bloody hell, pet, keep it down. Some of us are trying to sleep around here!" Spike groused sleepily from the other side of the couch.
"Oh! Sorry, Spike," Willow whispered. "I forgot about you," she pushed the door quietly closed behind her.
"So, I'm forgettable, am I?" Spike asked as he sat up and pushed the blanket off of him. "And no need to whisper now, pet, I'm awake."
"Oh, no," Willow was whispering again and then spoke more loudly at his raised eyebrow, "I didn't mean I forgot about *you*, `cause you're hard to forget, being, you know, grrr and all, or even that I forgot you'd be here, just forgot that you'd still be sleeping, is all."
"Right," Spike stood up and stretched and Willow tried not to gawk. He was wearing his black jeans but no t-shirt. Wow, she thought, she didn't know muscles could *do* that.
"Something wrong?" Spike asked and Willow looked up guiltily.
"No! Just, um...where's Giles?" she asked to change the subject. Spike stepped out from behind the couch and padded toward the kitchen on bare feet. Bare feet, she thought!
"Don't know. Said something `bout some bint and the airport," Spike's voice was muffled as he stuck his head in the refrigerator door and emerged with a bag of blood.
"Oh!" Willow said as she sat her bag on the table. "I forgot about that. So he won't be back until tomorrow then," she was talking to herself now. "I'll just have to leave him a note."
"You seem to be forgetting an awful lot lately, pet, better be careful with that. Want me to give him a message?" Spike asked as he tossed the bag into the microwave.
"Uh, no, that's okay," Willow hedged, "I'll just leave a note."
"Don't trust me, pet?" he asked with a smirk as he leaned his elbows on the counter and peered at her through the window.
"Uh, well, it's not that I don't *trust* you, exactly, just...don't want you to forget to tell him is all, you know, accidentally."
"Hey! I ain't the one with the memory problem, Red!" Spike retorted. "So, what's the note for?"
"Vacation," Willow absently replied as she searched through her bag for pen and paper.
"What about vacation, pet?" Spike asked.
"Oh," Willow turned around, one hand still on the bag, "I just wanted to remind him that Buffy and I were going on vacation."
"What about me?" he huffed.
"Uh, what about you?" Willow asked in confusion.
"No need to tell Spike anythin', right?"
"Uh, well, I didn't think you'd care," Willow was still a little confused. What was he talking about? He hated them, why would he want to know if she and Buffy were..."Oh, I get it! You just wanted to know that the Slayer would be out of town, huh?" she accused. "Want to get up to a little mischief, eh, Spike, while the cat's away, and all," Willow had placed her hand on her hip and looked at him like she had his number.
"Right, pet, you found me out," Spike rolled his eyes. "This bleedin' chip in my head is just a way to keep you lot off your guard so I can take over Sunnydale as soon as the Slayer leaves for a little unearned and undeserved R&R," the blond vampire said as he turned toward the microwave which had just dinged.
"Sorry, Spike," Willow found herself apologizing, although she wasn't sure why, "I guess I just jumped to conclusions. I mean, why would you be interested in anything *I'm* doing?" she buried her head back in the bag.
Not interested in anything she did, Spike thought. Was the little witch blind? Well, actually, he knew she wasn't blind `cause he'd heard her heart rate speed up when she'd gotten a good look at his manly, naked chest. But didn't she know he wanted nothing more than to brush all of that beautiful red hair off of her neck and lick her porcelain white skin until she begged him to bite her?
Instead he said, "Vacation, huh? Where you going?" as he poured the warmed blood into a mug.
"Oh, just up north," her voice was muffled, "to the beach. Buffy's father rented a place and he said we could use it," Willow dropped the bag, triumphantly holding a pen and a piece of paper in her hand. She sat down and began to write her note to Giles.
Spike leaned against the counter as he drank, watching Willow's face furrow in concentration as she wrote. When he was done he rinsed the mug out and walked over to her. He seated himself on the table next to her elbow and pulled the paper out from under the pen.
"So, what you writing to the Watcher, pet?" he asked as he began reading the note.
"Hey!" Willow tried to grab the paper back but he held it out of her reach. "Give me that!" she stood to reach across him and felt her breasts brush against his arm. She jumped back, breathing a little erratically now, and placed her hands on her hips.
"Give me my note, Spike," she commanded in the Willow-as- computer-class-teacher voice. It may have worked on her fellow high schooler's, but it didn't phase Spike one bit.
"No," he said as he kept reading. When he was finished he handed the note to her, "Now you can have it, luv." Willow grabbed the note out of his hand with a frown and sat back down to finish writing it.
"Could you *move*?" she asked as her elbow kept hitting his leg.
"No," he said again as he leaned back on his arms. Willow looked up at him in exasperation and noticed his new position. Wow! Double wow, even. The muscles in his arms stood out and...and...his chest. Just...wow.
"You alright, pet?" Spike had lifted one hand off of the table and was waving it in front of her face.
"Huh? What? Yes, of course, I'm alright," she said as she realized what Spike had asked her. Finish the note...don't look at him...finish the note...don't look at him...
Willow finished the note and folded the piece of paper, writing Giles' name on the outside. "Would you make sure he gets this?" she asked as she placed the paper in the center of the table.
"Oh, right, Spike's the delivery boy, now," he complained as he rubbed one hand over his chest. "Not afraid I'll forget to give him the message that you left him a note, but couldn't trust me to deliver the *actual* message. I get it."
"No, that's not...," Willow's voice trailed off as she watched Spike's hand. What she wouldn't give to be that hand...
"That's not what?" Spike interrupted her lascivious thoughts.
"What what?" Willow asked.
"You said `no, that's not'...what?" Spike reminded her.
"Oh! Yes, right. I was going to say that, um, that," goddess would he stop doing that? "That, uh, what were we talking about again?"
Spike just smiled. "Nothing, pet. So, how long you going to be gone?" he asked.
"A, um, a week," Willow managed to get out.
"A whole week, huh," Spike pursed his lips and his eyes drifted to the ceiling as he thought about a whole week without seeing the little redheaded witch.
"Uh, yeah. I, um, I should probably get going...now," Willow reached for her bag.
Before he could stop himself Spike pushed the bag out of her reach. "You don't really have to go right now, do ya, luv?" he asked.
"Well, um, yeah," her voice squeaked, "I really think I do!" Her elbow was still touching his leg and it was driving her nuts. She pushed the chair back and stood up.
"Can I, um, can I have my bag now?" she asked politely.
"No," Spike said as he examined the chipped polish on his nails.
"What do you mean `no'?" Willow huffed indignantly. "Give me my bag, Spike," she tried to reach around him for the bag but Spike easily kept himself between the bag and Willow's grasping hand.
"I don't think so, pet," he answered casually.
"Spike! Let me have my bag!" Willow's hands were on her hips again and her lovely chest was heaving with the deep breaths she was taking. Spike took the opportunity to carefully look her over. She was wearing a long skirt and an orange fuzzy sweater. He was dying to see what she was hiding under the sweater.
"Alright," he said.
"Alright?" Willow repeated suspiciously.
"Alright. I'll give you the bag on one condition," he looked into green eyes and watched them narrow even further in suspicion.
"What's the condition?" she asked warily.
"You give me a goodbye kiss," Spike said as he put his hand back on the table and leaned back in the pose she seemed to like a whole lot just a few minutes ago, if her increased heart rate and the slightest hint of arousal were any indication.
"Wh-wh-what?!!" she cried in surprise as she tried to take a step back and ran into the chair. He had to be playing with her. There's no way he'd really want her to kiss him, even a little peck on the cheek goodbye kiss. Just no way. I mean, shy, geeky, although cool `cause she dated a guitar player, thank you very much, although he left her, so, back to geeky, not very pretty, computer nerd, although, witch, so that was kind of cool, but kiss *Spike*?
"A goodbye kiss," he repeated as if he asked her to kiss him everyday.
"H-ha, ha," Willow managed to get out, "very funny. I-I'm sure you're just dying, although, not literally `cause you're, uh, already dead, to have me kiss you. Now that you've had your little j- joke can I please have my bag?"
"Not joking, pet," Spike replied seriously. "Just a little goodbye kiss," he prodded her. "What, Spike's lips not good enough for you, eh?" he decided to turn the tables on her.
"No! I mean, that's not what I meant! I just meant, uh, I meant..."
"Come on, pet, it won't be so bad," he cajoled. "Just a little goodbye kiss. What could it hurt?"
Willow's mouth opened and closed like a fish. What could it hurt?! What could it hurt, she yelled to herself. Well, first of all, she could melt into a little puddle of goo and I'm sure that would be an attractive look, she thought. Or, or she could attack him, what with the touching of her lips to Spike's...anything, although that thought had connotations she didn't even want to consider right now...carrying the high probability of all of her self- control being thrown out the window.
"I-I don't think that would be a good idea," Willow finally managed to squeak out as she tried to step away from the table, her efforts being hampered by the chair behind her. Spike leaned forward and reached out a hand to gently take hold of her wrist. He moved his leg so she could get out from between the table and chair, then pulled her between his legs, locking his knees tightly to her hips to hold her in place.
"I think it's a lovely idea, pet," Spike purred as he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. "C'mon, give Spike a little goodbye kiss," he coaxed.
Willow was afraid she wasn't going to make it out of there with her dignity intact. There was no way she was touching her lips to Spike's lips. Just no way. She decided to humor him with a little peck on the cheek and then hightail it out of there. She placed her hand on Spike's thigh to steady herself, then leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.
"Goodbye!" she cried in what she hoped was a cheerful voice as she tried to pull out from between his legs. But Spike's legs weren't budging and he hadn't let go of her wrist.
"Well, now, pet, that wasn't much in the way of goodbye kisses," he spoke slowly, his voice low as he turned her hand over and rubbed his thumb over her palm. "I mean, you're gonna be gone for a whole week, after all, I think you should at least kiss me on the lips."
Willow looked up into his face, afraid of what she'd find, but there was no smirk, no glint of mischief in his beautiful blue eyes. She could probably get away from him if she tried hard enough because the chip wouldn't let him hurt her, but she didn't want to look foolish as she struggled to get away. Surely Spike was just teasing her. Surely. Willow leaned toward Spike again and pecked his lips, then pulled back as if she'd been burnt.
"Much better, luv," Spike sighed as he slipped his free hand around to her lower back, "but I bet you can do even better." He leaned forward and closed blunt teeth over her lower lip, nipping before sucking it into his mouth as he ran his hand up her back.
Oh, goddess! Willow grabbed Spike's thigh for support as her knees weakened beneath her. She tried not to, but she couldn't stop herself as she moaned his name.
"Kiss me, Red," Spike begged. Willow pressed her lips to his, gliding her tongue over them, then slipping it between them. Spike moaned against her lips as her tongue touched his for the first time and her tentative touch became more sure as she explored his mouth until she had to pull away to breathe, her forehead resting against his.
"Much...much better," he was breathing hard, though he didn't even need to breathe. "But you're gonna be gone for a whole week, pet," he said against her lips.
"A-are you gonna miss me, Spike?" she asked in surprise.
"Bloody hell, yes," he moaned as he flicked his tongue over her lips. Emboldened, Willow parted her lips and sucked his tongue into her mouth.
"Bloody hell!" Spike groaned when he could speak again.
"How much?" Willow asked as she wickedly ran her hand up his thigh, paused, then continued up his stomach and chest, her fingers clutching at his bare flesh.
"How much what?" it was Spike's turn to be confused.
"How much are you gonna miss me?" Willow clarified for him as her hand moved up to cup his cheek.
"A bloody lot," Spike said just before she kissed him again. This one was less tentative, more passionate as Willow began to understand that Spike really *did* want her to kiss him. *Really* kiss him. And so she did. Because she wanted it too. A bloody lot, she thought as Spike's hand moved into her hair and cupped the back of her head, pressing her lips more firmly to his.
Spike ran his other hand up Willow's arm, to her shoulder and down her chest until it was lying flat over her breast. Willow moaned as he touched her, running her own hand into his hair as her recently freed hand fell to his thigh, her nipple pebbling against his palm. Willow's moan ignited a fire inside Spike and he closed his fingers over the soft mound as he deepened the kiss.
Willow moaned her pleasure wordlessly against his lips as she felt moisture seep from her core at his touch. At the sound of Willow's moan and the scent of her arousal Spike had to fight his demon back. Cor, she was everything that he'd dreamed she'd be, and more. He slid forward on the table so that his erection pressed against her stomach and tightened his thighs around her hips.
What he wouldn't give to be inside her right this minute, pounding into her tight, wet, heat as she writhed under him moaning his name. He trailed his fingers down her stomach to the hem of her sweater and slipped beneath it. He pressed his fingertips against the warm flesh of her belly and just held them there, savoring the feel of her.
He lifted his lips so she could suck air into her lungs then captured them again, kissing her as his hand moved up to cup her breast through her bra. He squeezed it, kneaded it, then rolled her already puckered nipple between his fingers.
"Spike!" Willow pulled away from him, her head fell back on her neck and her eyes closed as she innocently thrust her breast into his eager hand. "Goddess, Spike!" she moaned.
Spike placed both hands on the hem of her sweater and raised it. Willow automatically lifted both arms and he pulled the sweater over her head. He tossed the sweater away and leaned back to look at her. Bloody hell, all that pale white flesh quickly becoming pink as her heated blood rose to the surface. He reached out slowly, almost reverently, and cupped both breasts with his hands.
"Spike," Willow moaned again as her head fell back and her hands grabbed at his thighs, her fingers digging into his flesh. He leaned forward and planted small kisses on her neck, her shoulder, working his way down to the delectable mound of flesh visible above her bra.
He sucked a covered nipple into his mouth as his hands moved behind her back to work the clasp. He slid the straps off of her shoulder and pulled the bra away from her, leaning back to gaze at her. Cor, she was beautiful. He pulled the bra off of her and tossed it the way of the sweater, then immediately lifted a breast to his mouth and closed his lips over her inviting nipple as his other hand closed over her other breast.
"Spike," Willow's tiny fingers convulsively kneaded his chest and shoulders, her nails digging into him as he suckled on her breasts, his lips moving from one to the other. One hand moved into his hair, pressing his face into her breasts. "Spike...yes," she moaned as her body started to hum.
Spike smelled another wave of Willow's arousal. As he sucked on her nipple both hands moved to her thighs and began to hike her skirt up. When the skirt was up around her waist and he caught sight of the pale flesh of her thighs he held his nonexistent breath. He pressed one hand between her thighs, urging her to let him in, then rubbed his fingers over her through her knickers.
"Ooh, Spi-ike," Willow groaned as her head fell forward against him, her hands gripping his arms for support. She lifted her head and began to suck on his neck, harder and faster as she began to move to the rhythm of his fingers against her.
With a sudden wrench Spike tore Willow knickers off of her and placed his fingers against her wet entrance. Slowly, carefully he slipped a finger between her slick folds. Willow moaned at the intrusion, then bit down on the skin she held in her mouth.
"Bloody hell," Spike groaned as he moved his finger inside her, bending it against her wall as his thumb worried her clit, his other hand going around her back to support her.
"Nhh, Spike!" Willow moaned as her body responded to his touch. He bent his head to her neck and licked the path he'd thought about earlier, then sucked on her pulse point.
"Oh, goddess, Spike. Spike. Spike!" she screamed his name as she came, her warm juices coating his finger and spilling into his hand. He held her while she recovered from her orgasm, then pulled his finger out of her and licked his hand clean of her juices.
He let her skirt drop, then reached behind her and unzipped it. He let go of it and let it slide down her legs to the floor. Holding her, he rose from his seat on the table and lowered them both to the floor.
Pushing her legs apart he lowered his head to her center and tasted her. Cor, she tasted so bloody good, he thought. Unable to control himself he licked and sucked her swollen flesh until her fingers fisted in his hair and she begged him for more. He stroked inside her with his tongue then rubbed it over her clit as he inserted a finger inside her.
With Spike's finger pressing against her and his tongue stroking her clit Willow came again, his name on her lips. Spike drank his fill of her succulent juices, then unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his hips. He crawled up her body and positioned himself at her entrance.
"S-spike, wh-what are you doing?" Willow squeaked. Spike looked down into her eyes, still clouded with desire.
"Uh, goodbye *shag*?" he asked uncertainly, in a voice that betrayed his concern that she was going to tell him to stop.
"Gonna miss me *that* much, Spike?" Willow teased breathlessly as she ran her fingers lightly over his stomach and chest.
"Bleedin' right!" Spike groaned as he thrust into her. "Cor, Willow," he moaned into her neck as she closed around him, "so hot...so bloody *tight*!"
"Goddess, Spike!" Willow cried as he filled her and moved within her. "That feels so...oh, goddess, so good! So good," she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders. "Don't stop. Oh, goddess, don't ever stop!"
"Not gonna stop," Spike groaned as he pumped into her. "Never gonna stop."
Willow grabbed his head with both hands and pulled him down to her, crushing her lips to his. Spike took control of the kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth as he pumped into her heat. He felt his body ready itself for release and reached between them to stroke her clit, wanting to take her with him.
Willow threw her head back, her mouth open in a silent scream as her body tensed, her muscles spasmed. Spike felt her muscles clench around him, milking him of his release, and he cried her name as he emptied himself inside her.
Spike rolled off of Willow and onto his side, taking her with him so that they both lay on their sides, face to face. They stayed that way for what seemed like hours, but was only minutes, catching their breath. Spike kissed and licked Willow's neck, tasting the salty sweat from their exertions. Finally Willow broke the silence.
"I, um, I have to go," she whispered as she ran her hand up Spike's side.
Spike grabbed her face and kissed her hard, then let go of her and rolled over onto his back, placing his hands behind his head. Willow staggered to her feet and dressed, holding her torn underwear up and giving Spike a dirty look. He just smirked back at her and she shoved them into her book bag.
After she was dressed Willow grabbed the handle of the book bag and paused, then darted a quick glance down at Spike before looking away.
"What's wrong?" he asked. Willow could barely *walk*, much less think or speak, so it took her a minute to form the words.
"This is going to be a really long week," she whispered, almost afraid to look at him. Afraid the smirk would be back on his face. That his eyes would be cold. That this had just been a joke after all.
"What's wrong, luv?" Spike smelled her fear mixed with embarrassment. Willow didn't look at him, just shook her head and ran her fingers over the strap of the book bag.
Suddenly Spike knew what she was afraid of, she was his little witch after all, and he knew everything about her, things *she* probably didn't even know. Like how much fire she hid under those fuzzy sweaters, Spike thought.
"What time is the Slayer picking you up?" he asked.
"She said eight," Willow's lips turned up in a little smile, "but she probably won't be out of bed until ten."
"Well, then," Spike said, "don't need to leave just yet, do ya, luv?"
Willow looked down at him then. There *was* a smirk on his face, but it wasn't mean, in fact, it was rather...sexy. And his blue eyes weren't cold at all. Indeed, they were full of heat, the kind that scalded her insides, turning them to jelly. The tip of his tongue stuck out of his mouth and he raised his eyebrows suggestively at her.
Willow giggled, the weight on her chest suddenly lifted.
"No," she whispered as she pulled her sweater over her head and tossed it over her shoulder.
End