Author: Spikedluv
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Willow/Spike (as it should be)
Spoilers: Minimal, through Pangs, season 4
Summary: `Something Blue' never happened, Willow finds another way to get over Oz
Feedback: Yes, please! Don't make me beg, it's not pretty.
E-mail: mkwilday@midtel.net
Distribution: Aahh, you really want it? 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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Balancing a grocery bag and a meat and cheese platter in one hand Willow turned the doorknob and pushed the door open, slipping quietly into Giles' apartment without knocking.
"Could you explain to me, again, exactly *why* we're having this, er, get-together here?" Willow heard Giles ask Buffy in the kitchen. "And don't give me that clap-trap...nonsense...about being the `patriarch'," he added before she could respond, "that's only going to work once."
"Because mom's been working very hard, *too* hard, at the gallery due to the holidays and you know if we had this party at our house she'd never get a moment's rest, between cooking and cleaning and hostessing duties. She needs to relax and have a good time," Buffy concluded.
"Goodness, Buffy, you make me sound like an old woman...or a fuss-pot...or both," Joyce Summers said from her spot on one of the stools at the counter where she sat sipping a glass of wine and watching her daughter and Giles get in each other's way in the small kitchen.
"Willow, hello, dear," Mrs. Summers greeted the redhead as she kicked the front door shut, "can I help you with any of that?"
"Hi, Mrs. Summers. Thanks, but I've got it balanced just right," Willow said as she crossed the room and set the platter on the counter, laying the grocery bag of sandwich rolls on top of it.
"Hey, Buff, Giles," Willow greeted the happily bickering duo.
"Hello, Willow," Giles said. "Merry, er, Happy Hanukkah," he corrected himself.
"Merry Christmas, Wills!" Buffy cried out as she transferred potato salad from the TupperwareT container to a festively decorated bowl.
"Hello, Jewish," Willow dryly reminded her friend. "I'm just here for the food."
"And the company," Giles raised an eyebrow.
"And the company," Willow agreed with a smile.
"And the presents!" Buffy teased.
"And the presents," Willow admitted with a small laugh.
"Why do I have to wear this?" Spike groused as he walked down the hall and stopped in the kitchen doorway.
Willow stopped breathing, and she would swear that her heart almost stopped beating, when she saw him. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans, *blue*, zipped but not buttoned, with a light-blue, long- sleeved shirt that he'd put on but not buttoned. His hair was wet and finger-combed and small droplets of water sprinkled his, gulp, bare-naked chest. He stood with his arms spread to the sides, a disgusted look on his face directed at the ex-Watcher.
"Because they're clean?" Giles asked sarcastically.
Wow, she thought. He was gorgeous. The other night, the night that shall not be mentioned and shall not be thought about without great loss of sleep, and mind, she hadn't seen any part of his body. Which was really too bad, she decided, `cause he had one dam...darn fine chest. Yes, indeedy. And, oh, goddess, his feet were bare. She wasn't sure why, but that was almost more than she could take. A girl could only take so much, you know, and this was just...beyond the pale, as Giles might say.
"Oh, Spike," Mrs. Summers said, "look at you! You look wonderful."
"Ew!" Buffy muttered as she put the potato salad in the refrigerator and got out the coleslaw.
"Very handsome," Mrs. Summers continued, ignoring her daughter. "Doesn't he Willow?" she turned to the quiet redhead for support.
Don't look, she told herself, don't look. Shoot, she was still looking. Suddenly she realized that he was looking at her, and so was everyone else. Oops, she missed something while she was busy staring, er, not looking at his, yup, still bare-naked chest.
"Uh, what?" she asked.
"Doesn't Spike look handsome?" Mrs. Summers repeated.
Willow blushed. She could feel the heat spread over her face and neck as her blood rose to the surface. Actually, the heat was spreading to lower places as well. *That* was not of the good, she thought.
"I, um," she looked up into Spike's smirking face. He'd noticed her elevated heart rate and had placed his hands on his hips, flexing his pecs. She looked quickly away to see Buffy looking at her oddly.
"He, um, he looks f-fine," Willow's mouth was suddenly dry. "Do we have anything to drink?" she squeaked.
"You looking for wet or alcohol?" Buffy asked. "`Cause after seeing Spike's chest, I could use some alcohol."
"Ha, ha, Slayer," Spike said as he moved into the living room.
"Do we have alcohol?" Willow asked hopefully, even though she was underage.
"No, but I could use it," Buffy told her. "Unless you want wine."
"Oh, no, I'll just take the `something wet'," Willow said.
"There's water and soda in the cooler down by mom's feet," Buffy said as she concentrated on filling another bowl.
"Mmm, I could use something wet, too," Willow heard Spike's husky voice from behind her as she opened the cooler. She closed her eyes as she felt dampness between her thighs. Dam...darn vampire, she thought again.
It had been just over two weeks since he'd, since they'd, well, since that night, and she couldn't stop thinking about him. Willow had made it her one goal to never be alone with the blond vampire. When they were all gathered at Giles' for research she tried not to sit next to him, talk to him or even look at him. But tonight it didn't matter that they weren't alone.
"C-cola?" she asked as she pulled a can out of the cooler and glanced back at him.
"Nah, I'll wait," he smirked as he slowly buttoned the shirt and tucked it into his jeans. "for the good stuff."
Goddess, she wanted to wipe that smirk right off of his face. Or jump his bones. Had he just implied that she was `the good stuff'? Aahh, what was she thinking? No bone jumping! Especially since they weren't alone. No, *never*!
"In your dreams," she muttered as she closed the cooler then popped the top of the soda can and lifted it to her mouth.
"Yeah, they've been wet, too," Spike whispered just loud enough for Willow to hear and she froze, her arm suspended in mid-air.
So have mine, she wanted to say. No she didn't! She wanted to slap him. She wanted to push him back on the couch and rip that shirt back off of him, *then* slap him. Actually, being a vampire and all, that might be considered foreplay, her brow furrowed in thought.
"What are you thinking about, witch?" Spike asked softly as he caught the scent of her arousal and Willow blushed again. Thankfully the front door opened just then to admit Xander and Anya, both carrying dessert plates and a bag of presents, and Willow turned away from Spike to greet them.
"Hey, Xan, Anya!" Willow called out a little too loudly.
"Hey, Wills," Xander greeted her as they set their burdens on the table and took their coats off, hanging them on the hooks.
"Hello, Willow," Anya said. "Did you just get here, too?"
"What?" she looked down to see that she still wore her coat. "Oh, yeah, just a couple of minutes ago." Willow put her can on the table and unbuttoned her coat, slipped it off of her shoulders and hung it up. Over the sound of happy chatter behind her as Xander and Anya greeted everyone else and placed their presents by the tree Willow thought she heard someone gasp and she smiled to herself what she hoped was an evil grin.
She had on a brand new outfit that she had purchased just for this occasion. Because it was the holidays and a party and not because Spike would be there. She wore a black velvet skirt that came just below her knee with a slit in the side that went halfway up her leg, a green silk halter top that hooked low on her back and around her neck, leaving most of her back bare, and a pair of black leather boots with heels that made her legs look long. She wanted to look good, for herself, of course.
She walked back over to the table, picked up her can of soda and took a sip, then looked at Spike. He was staring at her, his hands frozen in the process of rolling his sleeves up.
"Problem?" she asked haughtily.
"No bra, pet?" he smirked as he recovered his composure.
"Pig," Willow muttered as her nipples puckered under the silk. She walked over to the counter and peeked through into the kitchen.
"Want me to set the table, Buff?" she asked, trying to ignore the blond.
"Yeah," Buffy asked distractedly as she scooped macaroni salad into yet another bowl. "The table cloth and plates and stuff are in the bag over there," she nodded her head toward the table.
Willow looked behind her and saw that there was indeed a bag sitting on the table along with the desserts. She set her can on the counter and walked back over to the table, pulled the bag over and peered into it.
"Need help, pet?" Spike asked from right behind her and Willow jerked upright, slamming into him. As her back came into contact with his chest she felt a dizzying sense of deja vu. Her stomach fluttered and moisture pooled between her thighs. She grabbed the table to support herself as her legs grew weak.
"Don't *do* that!" she hissed.
"Sorry," he lied as his hand gripped her hip to steady her, his fingers digging into her flesh.
"M-move the desserts," she squeaked, "while I get the, uh, the...stuff...out of the bag."
Spike smiled as he moved away from her. Oh, yeah, the little witch wanted him. And he' be more than happy to give her what she wanted. It had been too long since that night...since he'd touched her, tasted her, been inside her.
Willow and Spike finished setting the table with Spike surreptitiously touching her at every opportunity and Willow slapping his hands away. Xander carried the meat and cheese platter over to the table and Anya followed him bearing two bowls of salad. Willow went to the window and grabbed the third salad and waited for Buffy to finish putting fruit salad in a bowl before carrying them over and putting them in the middle of the table.
"Is that everything?" she asked as she walked back over to the counter.
"Yep," Buffy said as she washed her hands and untied the brightly colored apron she was wearing. "Hey, great outfit."
"Yes, you look lovely, dear," Mrs. Summers said as Giles assisted her off of the stool and seated her at one end of the table.
"Thanks!" Willow smiled happily. "Did you, um, heat up any blood for Spike?" she asked Buffy quietly, but Spike's ears perked right up at the mention of his name.
"Ew, no!" Buffy replied.
"Buffy," Willow reprimanded her friend, "be nice, it's Christmas." She walked into the kitchen, pulled a bag of blood out of the refrigerator and tossed it into the microwave. Buffy flipped on the coffee maker and walked out of the kitchen, grabbed a soda out of the cooler, then joined everyone else at the table. Willow turned around to grab a mug out of the cupboard and ran into Spike.
"Stay away from me," she moaned quietly as she backed up against the counter.
"Are you burning?" he asked softly.
"Yes! No! Ye-es," Willow groaned as his body pressed against hers as he reached above her to get a mug down.
"Don't worry, baby, I'll take care of you. Later," he stepped away from her as the bell dinged, removed the blood, snipped the corner of the bag and poured it into the mug.
"That was just...mean," Willow complained and Spike smiled at her expression of discontent.
"It hurts me more than it hurts you," he said as he grabbed her arm and led her out of the kitchen.
"I don't believe you," she muttered as he pushed her toward the table, then grabbed her soda off of the counter.
Willow walked over to the table and took a seat next to Giles. Spike sat in the empty chair beside her, placing her soda in front of her. Giles and Mrs. Summers were sitting at the ends of the table, Buffy, Xander and Anya on one side and she and Spike on the other.
After a brief moment of silence during which they each gave thanks they dug in. After everyone had eaten their fill or, rather, after Xander was done, Willow helped Buffy and Anya clear the table.
"I'm not an invalid," Mrs. Summers insisted after Buffy pushed her back down into her chair when she tried to help them.
"I know, but you are going to relax this evening," Buffy told her.
Willow was glad to finally have the meal over. She had only put a little bit on her plate, but hadn't been able to eat very much of it. It was Spike's fault. He was sitting at least a foot away from her, but that was too close. Or not close enough. She couldn't decide which.
After the trash had been discarded and the food put away Buffy poured the coffee into a carafe while Willow and Anya carried the two dessert plates and knives over to the table. Willow pulled additional paper plates out of the bag while Anya uncovered the desserts.
Xander took one of the knives and began to cut the first dessert. It was a cookies and cream cheesecake with chocolate crumb crust on the bottom and a layer of chocolate fudge on top. Anya sliced the other dessert which turned out to be a coconut cream pie. Buffy appeared with the carafe and a spatula.
While Buffy poured the coffee Anya put the dessert onto plates and Willow handed them around the table. Giles slipped out of his chair and grabbed the sugar and cream off of the counter. Buffy gave him a dirty look for having dared to move which only abated when he set the items on the table and resumed his seat.
When everyone was served the three girls sat back down and everyone dug in again. Willow realized that she was now sitting closer to Spike when his leg brushed hers under the table and she almost spilled her coffee. Blushing, she pulled her leg away from his and glanced up to see him smirking at her as he took a sip of his blood-coffee. Dam...darn vampire!
After the desserts had been demolished and Xander swore his stomach was going to explode the girls cleaned up the remains. Buffy refilled the carafe and everyone's coffee cups before they retired to the living room to open presents. Buffy and Willow had dropped their presents off earlier that day when they'd delivered the salads. She, Buffy and Anya had spent the day before together at Buffy's house making the salads and wrapping presents.
Everyone took their seats in the living room while Willow excused herself to go to the bathroom. She wanted to wash her hands and give herself a moment away from Spike, who was making her palms get all sweaty. Xander took the easy chair, Giles the recliner and Spike and Mrs. Summers sat on the couch.
Buffy and Anya dug the presents out from under the tree and handed them out. When they were finished Anya sat on Xander's lap and Buffy seated herself on the stool at Giles' feet. Willow tried to sneak back into the living room but Spike heard her coming and looked up at her. Mrs. Summers followed his gaze and saw Willow.
"Come on, Willow," she patted the couch between her and Spike, "we saved you a seat."
Willow wanted to crawl into a hole. Well, actually, she wanted to crawl onto Spike's lap, therefore, she had decided that she would sit as far away from him as possible. Unfortunately, that plan had just been shot to...heck. Trying not to stumble on legs numb with nerves Willow walked over to the couch and slipped past Mrs. Summers.
"Thanks," she smiled at the woman who had been more of a mother to her over the past three and a half years than her own mother had for her entire life, then sat down, nervously smoothing her skirt down.
"Ready?" Buffy asked the room in general.
"Go!" Anya beat her to it as she tore into a gift.
While everyone else was busy opening their gifts Willow glanced sideways at Spike. He was still looking at her. Goddess, he had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen.
"Best open your gifts," he said softly.
"Hmm? Oh, yes, right!" Willow picked a gift up off of the coffee table and began to peel the paper off.
"Willow," Xander said in a warning tone and Willow looked up guiltily. "What have I told you about unwrapping presents?"
"Tear into them?" Willow answered hesitantly.
"Exactly!" Xander praised her. "Now, let's see you do it."
Willow laughed, feeling as if she were in some hellmouthy self-help group, and ripped the paper off of the package.
After the presents were opened and everyone had oo'd and ah'd over them and the scraps of gift wrapping had been discarded they all relaxed over coffee, although some mixed it with something else. For Spike, it was blood, for Giles, scotch.
Willow still managed to be sitting next to Spike, casually shifting closer until her leg brushed his. She leaned back against the couch with her eyes closed, a contented smile on her lips as her head lay against his shoulder. Willow jumped and felt her stomach flip-flop when the back of his finger tickled her bare thigh along the slit. Trying not to moan she pressed her leg against his hand.
Xander and Anya were the first to leave. No surprise there, Anya wanted her orgasms. Everyone stood up to see Xander and Anya off and when Mrs. Summers yawned Buffy decided that they should get going too. Spike and Willow said their goodbyes to Mrs. Summers and waited for Buffy who had followed Giles into the kitchen. Willow offered to get Buffy and walked over to the window and glanced into the kitchen.
Buffy had Giles backed up into a corner and was kissing him. Not on the cheek or a quick peck on the lips, but a full-fledged, open-mouthed, gonna-miss-you-when-I'm-gone kiss. Willow's mouth dropped open and she stepped back, turning around to see Mrs. Summers and Spike staring at her.
"Watcher...Slayer...stuff," Willow managed to get out. "I'm sure they'll be done soon." Spike just smirked at her and Willow blushed as she realized that he knew what was going on in the kitchen. Moments later a slightly disheveled Buffy and Giles emerged from the kitchen and she and Mrs. Summers took their leave.
Willow, too embarrassed to look at Giles, stood staring at the floor for a minute before she said, "I should probably get going to."
"I'll walk you, pet," Spike offered grabbing her jacket off of the hook and holding for her.
"Thanks," Willow blushed again as she slipped her arms into the jacket. "Bye, Giles," she stood on her tip toes and kissed the ex-Watcher on the cheek. "Merry Christmas."
"Thank you, Willow, you, too. Er, Happy Hanukkah, that is," he amended.
Spike, who had pulled his duster on, opened the front door and held it for Willow who picked up her bag of presents and walked out into the night. She stopped in the middle of the courtyard and waited for him to shut the door behind them.
"Ready?" he said as he walked up to her.
"I, um, I got you a present," she said hesitantly as she pulled a flat package out of her jacket pocket and held it out to him.
"I didn't get you anything," he just looked at it.
"That's okay, here," she shook it at him.
Spike took the package and unwrapped it, staring at the leather journal.
"It's for...your, um, poetry," Willow said nervously. Oh, goddess, he didn't like it.
"I don't write poetry anymore," Spike said absently.
"Oh. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. That was...presumptuous of me. I'll take it back," she reached for the journal.
Spike lifted it out of her reach and pushed her hand away. "I'm keeping it," he said. It was the first time he could remember in a long time that someone had given him a gift. He slipped it into his duster pocket.
"Uh, thanks. Can we shag now?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Willow froze, except for her eyes, which grew wide and then rotated to the left, then the right, as she looked around them without moving her head. "*Right* now?" she squeaked.
Spike pressed his lips together trying to stifle the grin he felt growing, but he couldn't do it. His lips turned up into a smile and then he laughed out loud. Cor, she was priceless. She made him hot, she bought him presents and she made him laugh. What more could a vamp want?
"No, I think I can wait until we get to your place," he told her with a wide grin splitting his face.
"Oh," Willow was embarrassed and she turned quickly to walk away.
Spike grabbed her arm and pulled her back, throwing his arm over her shoulders as they headed to her dorm room. Willow hesitated, then lifted her arm to his waist. Spike, still smiling, touched his hand to his duster pocket, making sure the journal was safely tucked inside.
End