Sleepwalking

Author: Spikedluv

Parts: 41 - 48

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~Part: 41~

When they got back to the house that night, Spike made sure the front door was securely locked, and then dragged Willow up the stairs.
"Spike!" she cried out, a little breathless. "What are you doing?"

"You’ve been bad," he said.

"Huh?" she was confused.

"You went to see Giles without me," he explained as he tugged her into the dark bedroom and kicked the door shut. "I specifically told you not to go without me," he let go of her long enough to shrug his duster off. "You disobeyed me," he pulled his t-shirt off over his head. "I told you that you’d be punished for that," he sat down on the bed and untied his boots, then kicked them off.

"I, um, I thought you were, you know, teasing," Willow said nervously, as she remembered Spike’s earlier reaction to her admission that she’d gone to see Giles without him. She watched him remove his duster, his t-shirt, and his boots, little tendrils of fear snaking about her belly.

"Take your clothes off," he commanded, leaning back on his hands.

"Wh-what are you going to do?" she asked, with not a little trepidation.

"I told you; punish you," he replied, letting his eyes roam over her body.

Willow felt the fear well up in her. He wasn’t chipped. She knew he wouldn’t *hurt* her, because he loved her, but he *could* hurt her. He was so much stronger than she was, and...Willow turned and raced for the door. Spike was there before her, with a wicked smile on his lips.

"Get...undressed," he said, the intoxicating scent of Willow’s fear perfuming the room.

"Spike," Willow held her hands out in front of her and backed up a few steps. "I...I won’t do it again," she promised.

"I know," he looked her over, and Willow felt heat between her thighs. Her nipples tightened and Spike smirked at her. "Let’s just make sure of that, shall we?"

Spike lunged for her and grabbed her upper arms. He threw her on the bed, and then stood with his hands on his hips, just looking at her.

"Take your clothes off, Willow," his voice was smooth as silk. Willow moaned, and began to remove her clothing. When she was completely naked, Spike sat on the edge of the bed.

"Come here," he held his hand out. Willow took his hand and moved to kneel beside him. With a swift move that Willow hadn’t seen coming, he pulled her forward. She cried out as she felt herself falling.

And then she was laying face-down, across Spike’s legs, the denim rough against her naked flesh. She struggled to get up, but one hand between her shoulder blades, and the other on the back of her thighs, kept her in place.

"Spike! What are you doing?" she continued to struggle, though she knew it was fruitless.

"Punishing you," he kept one hand on her back, and moved the other to her bare ass, rubbing it softly. The thought of spanking her, combined with the way her body rubbed against him as she struggled, was making him hard. The feel of her warm flesh under his hand made him want to throw her on the bed and take her now, but she needed to be punished for her disobedience.

He realized that without his chip he could really hurt her, but he didn’t want to hurt her. Much. Willow moaned at his teasing touch, and then cried out in pain as he brought his hand down in a stinging slap.

"Ow! Spike!" she cried. He rubbed her bottom, and slapped her again.

"Spike!" Willow yelled, her little fists pushing against the bed as she tried to dislodge herself from his grip.

"If you don’t stop fighting me," he brought his hand down again, "I’ll use the cuffs."

Willow froze. "You wouldn’t," she said.

"Try me, luv," Spike said. "How many has that been?"

"What?" Willow asked, confused.

"How many," he rubbed her ass soothingly, "spanks?" He drawled the last word out, and the combination of his sexy voice, and his cool hand on her heated bottom, made her wiggle against his legs.

"I...I don’t...three...three, I think," she said, her hands fisting in the bed sheets.

"I think three more," Spike said. "What do you think?" he slipped his fingers between her thighs, teasing her swollen flesh.

"I...oh, goddess," she moaned, spreading her legs for him. "Whatever you want!" she cried out as he touched her clit.

"Then three it is," he pulled his hand away from her, and she groaned in protest. "Count them," he said, just before delivering a fourth stinging slap.

"Ow!" her body jerked at the sudden pain following the pleasure. "Uh, four? Start with four?"

He didn’t reply, just spanked her again, his cock getting harder at the sight of her pink bottom, at the sound of the quaver in her voice, at the feel of her body writhing against his legs, at the scent of her arousal.

"Oh, five!"

Spike rubbed her butt, and then delivered the last stinging blow, a bit harder than the others. Willow’s body jerked at the pain.

"Ow! Spike, six, ow!" and then she was screaming in pleasure as Spike slid two fingers inside her wet slit. "Oh, goddess, Spike, oh, yes, please!" she cried as he fingered her, slipping his other hand between them to find her clit.

Willow was humping herself against his leg and hand, and Spike was so hard it hurt. He withdrew his hands, and threw her onto her back in the middle of the bed, then unfastened his jeans and shoved them down his hips. He climbed between her thighs, positioned his cock head at her dripping entrance, and drove into her, sheathing himself in her heat.

"Oh, goddess, Spike!" Willow screamed as he filled her, hard and fast. She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down to her, wanting to feel his cool flesh rubbing over her heated skin as he thrust into her.

"Willow," he groaned as he pumped into her tight, wet heat. She was so...bloody...amazing. He buried his face in her neck, and pounded into her. The spanking he’d delivered had made him hornier than hell, and he just wanted to fuck her.

Willow wrapped her legs around his waist as he slammed into her. She couldn’t believe how hot the spanking had made her. Sure, it had hurt, but it had also made her wet. She needed him so badly, she ached.

Spike morphed, and sank his fangs into her neck. Willow cried out as her body tensed, and then began to shake, as one intense orgasm after another wracked her body.

"Spi-i-ike!" she cried out, her nails raking his back, drawing blood.

He felt his sac tighten, the muscles in his ass and thighs clench, and then his cock was pulsing, shooting his seed deep inside her. They both fell to the bed, limp. Spike rolled off of Willow and kicked his jeans off, then pulled her on top of him.

He ran his hands over her bottom, and she moaned, and then snuggled against him.

"Love you, Spike," she said, tiredly.

"Love you, too, Red," he kissed the top of her head, and felt, rather than heard, her murmur of contentment as she melted into him.

"I’m sorry," she whispered. "I didn’t want him to stake you."

Spike closed his eyes as they threatened to fill with tears. He’d just punished the woman who loved him enough to want to keep him from being staked. Didn’t matter, he shook his head. She’d disobeyed him. She’d needed to be punished. Besides...it had been fun, he tightened his hold on her.

"I know, baby," he said softly.

***

Over the next month, Willow and Spike were very busy. Willow attended classes; they looked at about a dozen apartments and several small houses, but nothing felt right; they spent as much time as they could trying to help Wesley and Giles revise the restoration spell; they made themselves available for the realtor to show the house; and they began attending the Scooby meetings again.

Unfortunately, they weren’t much help with regard to the restoration spell, not knowing the Romany language. Because of his research into the curse, Wesley was the only one with any substantive books on Romany spells and the Romany language. And the additional books he’d ordered from the Internet were on indefinite backorder.
 

With the help of Jenny Calendar’s notes, they had managed to translate most of the spell and were now trying to determine whether the curse was integral to the resouling, and if it wasn’t, whether that clause could just be eliminated, or if they needed to rewrite the entire spell, making up for the missing curse language, or even if they could rewrite it at all.

They were making some progress, but it was slow, and frustrating. Even though it was going to be several years before Spike turned her, they were anxious to have the spell in place so they could relax in the knowledge that it would be available when it was required.

Because of Willow’s and Spike’s hectic schedule, and everyone else desiring a life outside of research, they decided to meet at Giles’ twice a week for basic research and updates. The Scooby meetings were now held on Mondays and Thursdays, barring any unforeseen emergencies.

Buffy, who hated research, wasn’t there too often, and when she was, things were a little tense, but she had managed not to threaten Spike again. Oz and Tara also joined them when Oz was in town and Tara was free. The meetings were a lot more fun, now that her friends knew about her relationship with Spike and, for the most part, accepted it.

She and Spike had driven down to L.A. with Tara one weekend to watch Oz play with the Dingoes, and on another occasion, the four of them, along with Xander, and Anya, had gone to The Bronze. Anya was still a little skittish about going to The Bronze, since the night Xander was nearly killed, but they managed to have a good time.

Tonight was the first night in almost a week that Willow and Spike were able to spend alone. They were going to make popcorn and watch movies while they cuddled on the couch, then share a bubble bath, and then make love. If they were able to hold out that long, Willow thought to herself. Knowing their track record, they’d be naked before the first movie was over. But that was alright, Willow smiled, as she tore the cellophane wrapper off of the package of microwaveable popcorn, Spike was very shag-able.

While the corn was popping, Willow got out glasses for the soda, and then opened the freezer door to get some ice cubes. She reached into the bin and pulled out...the cuffs Spike had hidden from her last week when she threatened to cuff him to the front porch naked for feeling her up under the table at Giles’ one night while they were all researching.

She’d gotten so hot, and wet, that she hadn’t been able to concentrate. They’d snuck off to the bathroom for a quickie, and returned to Anya’s knowing look. Willow had been so embarrassed, she’d wanted to sink into the floor. No one else seemed to notice, and so she had settled back into research and was doing fine, until she saw the little smirks that Tara and Oz were trying to hide.

"I’m going to kill you," she’d hissed to Spike under her breath, knowing he’d hear her, and continued researching, her face as red as her bottom had been that one night, intent on ignoring him for the rest of the evening. Spike just smirked into the book he was holding, and reached under the table to caress her leg.

Willow had slapped his hand, which only made him, and everyone else at the table, with the exception of Xander (who was oblivious) and Giles (who was actually researching), burst out laughing.

"This is so not funny," she had muttered, and then pretended to research. Instead, she pulled up a site she’d heard about, but never had the nerve to look at before. The pictures had made Willow blush. Spike, who noticed the increase in her breathing and heart rate, had leaned over to see what she was looking at.

"What the...?"

"Do you think we can do that?" she asked, pointing at one of the couples, trying to sound casual.

"I thought you were researching," he hissed in her ear.

"I am," she smiled back, then waggled her eyebrows. "So, can we?" she looked back at the screen and tilted her head.

She smiled now at the memory, and at the thought of surprising Spike with the cuffs tonight. She stuffed them into her back pocket, and continued making their drinks. When the popcorn was done, she emptied it into a bowl. With the two glasses in her hands, she grabbed the bowl with her forearms on either side of it, and carried their snacks into the living room.

Spike was sitting in the corner of the couch, his feet up on the coffee table, the remote in his hand.

"All ready to go?" she asked as she bent enough for Spike to take the bowl out of her arms.

"Yep," he said, setting the bowl on his lap. Willow set one of the glasses on a coaster on the end table at his elbow, and kept the other. She climbed over his legs, and sat down beside him on the couch.

"What are we watching first?" she asked as she cuddled up next to him.

"‘Man In the Iron Mask’," he replied, pressing ‘play’ on the remote, and dropping it onto his leg. He put his arm around Willow and pulled her close, his other hand dipping into the bowl on his lap.

"Oh, I like that one," Willow said. "A little romance, a little swashbuckle."

"You just like that DiCaprio git," Spike snorted.

"Actually, Jeremy Irons and Gabriel Byrne are the hotties in this one," she smiled at him.

They settled in to watch the movie. When it was over, Spike set the popcorn bowl on the coffee table, and pressed ‘rewind’. Willow reached over to grab a tissue to wipe her eyes; it always got her that D’Artagnan died at the end. As she sat back down on the couch, the cuffs dug into her rear and reminded her of their presence. Willow smiled to herself.

"Spike," she said, as he ejected the movie and inserted another.

"Yeah, luv," he replied, distractedly.

"Do you trust me?" she asked

"‘Course I trust you," he said, as he sat on the couch. He grabbed the remote and fast-forwarded the tape.

"Close your eyes," Willow climbed onto her knees and leaned against his arm, lowering her mouth to kiss the top of his head.

"What?" he asked, looking up at her in confusion.

"Close your eyes," she said again, her voice a whisper.

"Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Trust me," she smiled at him. Spike rolled his eyes, and closed them. He wondered, what was she up to now?

Willow climbed onto his lap and pressed his upper body back against the couch with her own. She took his arm and lifted it above his head, resting it on the back of the couch, carefully removing the cuffs from her back pocket with her other hand.

The cuffs closed around his wrist with a ‘snick’, and Spike’s eyes shot open in surprise. Bloody hell, he thought, as he realized that she’d just cuffed his wrist. Willow smiled down at him.

"I found the cuffs, Spike," she whispered huskily, as she raised his other arm.

Oh, fuck, Spike thought as he felt his cock harden at her words. He let her lift his other arm, and felt the warm metal of the cuffs close around his wrist. He gave an experimental tug on them, and let Willow drape the short chain over the end of the couch back. Spike let the weight of his arms pull on the cuffs, effectively keeping them trapped above his head.

Willow trailed her fingers down his arms, the muscles bulging due to his position.

"Willow," Spike’s voice was hoarse, his nostrils flaring. The little chit had actually cuffed him. This could prove to be interesting.

"Trust me, Spike?" she asked again, as she leaned forward and licked his wrist, then ran her tongue down his arm to the tender skin inside his elbow, and sucked on it.

"Fuck, yes," Spike groaned. Very interesting indeed.

~Part: 42~

Willow ran her hands down his arms, feeling the muscles beneath her palms. He was so hard. She loved the feel of him. She slipped her fingers beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt and pushed them down. She gripped his shoulders, squeezing and kneading them.
Spike kept his eyes on Willow’s face. Her skin was flushed, and she was starting to breathe heavily as she touched him. And then her hands were on his collar. Her lips moved silently as she chanted a little spell, and then she was ripping his t-shirt, tearing it down the middle and pushing it to the side.

"Willow," he groaned, as her fingers trailed over his bare chest, teased his nipples, before moving lower to explore his stomach. His abdominal muscles contracted as her light, feathery touch tickled him, and he groaned again.

"I love the way you feel," Willow whispered. And then her hands were on the sides of his face, tipping his head back against the couch, her fingers tangling in his hair as she kissed him. Licking his lips, and nipping them, before slipping her tongue between them.

Spike parted his lips and let her tongue into his mouth. With a light touch, she explored his mouth, and then her fingers tightened in his hair, and her lips and tongue became more insistent as she plundered his mouth.

"I love the way you taste," she moved her lips from his, along his jaw, and down his neck, licking and kissing, sucking his skin into her mouth. She gently closed her teeth on his neck, and he bucked against her.

"Like that?" she whispered in his ear.

"Fuck, yeah!" he cried out, as she closed her teeth on his earlobe and gently tugged on it.

Willow placed small bite marks down his neck and along his shoulder. She moved to kneel beside him and place small bites on his chest, as her fingers teased his belly, feeling his muscles jump as her touch tickled him. When she reached a nipple, she sucked on it, and then bit it, and Spike gasped, his unnecessary breaths erratic.

Willow slipped her fingers beneath his waistband, continuing to tease him with light touches as she moved to suck and bite his other nipple. Spike groaned, and bucked his hips. The tips of Willow’s fingers brushed his hard, weeping cock. Willow pulled her fingers out of his jeans, and slipped them into her mouth, sucking them clean.

"Red," Spike groaned, and she just smiled at him. She pulled her shirt off over her head and straddled him again, as she reached between her breasts to unhook her bra and slide it down her arms. She leaned down and kissed him, softly, just brushing his lips with hers, tantalizing him, but not satisfying him.

With her eyes on his, she laid her hands on his arms, and ran them up to his cuffed wrists, letting her fingers trace the cuffs, then further, until she was gripping his hands. She lifted herself and placed her breasts in front of his mouth. Spike opened his mouth and his tongue darted out to taste a nipple.

"Yes," she hissed, as the nipple peaked under the touch of his cool tongue. She moved closer and placed her nipple at his lips. He opened them and sucked on her, gently, and then pulled, and bit down softly.

"Oh, god, Spike," she moaned, her head thrown back. He turned his head and took the other nipple into his mouth, treating it to the same. Willow began to move, rubbing herself against his belly. She let go of one of his hands, and placed her hand behind his head, holding him to her.

And then she pulled away from him. She knelt on the couch again, and lowered her head, licking and sucking on his belly, then biting, gently, but hard enough to mark him. And then she lowered her head further, and bit his cock through his jeans.

"Willow!" he bucked in her mouth, and Willow tipped her head to look up at him, a satisfied smirk on her face. "Willow, luv," he tried to remain calm.

"What, Spike?" Willow stuck her tongue out and swirled it in his belly button, then sucked on his side, where she knew he was ticklish.

"Willow, fuck!" he cried out. And then her fingers were on his button, and she was unzipping his jeans, freeing his cock. It sprang out, and bumped her face. Willow stuck her tongue out and licked it, then tipped her head once again to look up at Spike.

She watched his eyes go dark with desire as she licked the length of him. She pressed his cock down, so she could take his head into her mouth and continue looking at him. His eyes rolled up in his head as she sucked on him, her tongue twirling about the bulbous tip, poking into the slit.

He looked down at her. Her soft, smooth back, and the round globe of her breast were visible. But he wanted to see more. "Take your jeans off," he pleaded, breathlessly.

Willow let his cock fall out of her mouth with a slurp, then smirked at him as she rose to her feet. She unfastened her jeans, and slowly shoved them down her hips, shimmying out of them, leaving her panties on.

"What about these?" she asked innocently, letting her thumbs slide suggestively under the waistband of her panties.

"Them too," he said, staring at her hungrily. With another smirk, Willow complied, sliding her panties down her legs and stepping out of them.

Spike gazed at her intently, ravenously. Willow had slowly been working herself up, but the look on Spike’s face as he looked at her, as if he wanted to ravage her, made her body tighten, and she felt wet heat between her thighs. >From the look on Spike’s face, he scented her arousal.

Willow climbed back onto the couch and bent over Spike’s weeping cock. Spike felt a tingle in the back of his head, and his brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to figure out what it meant. But he lost all ability for coherent thought when Willow closed her mouth over him and let her lips slide down the length of him, until his cock head brushed the back of her throat.

"Bloody...fuck!" he cried out as his hips bucked, driving his cock further down her throat. Willow gagged and pulled off of him, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. "Willow, no!" he cried in concern as she covered him again, taking him all the way in, and swallowing around him.

"Oh...bugger," he groaned as he felt his balls tighten. The feel of her mouth around him on top of her light teasing touches, and the sight of her, and the taste of her, was too much. His hands gripped the back of the couch, and then his cock was pulsing and he was shooting his release down her throat. Willow swallowed, managed not to gag again, and continued to suck him dry, and then clean him off.

When she lifted her head and looked up at him, he was staring down at her with slitted eyes. He lifted his arms, and Willow rose to her feet and pushed them back down. "I’m not done with you, yet," she whispered, then lowered her head to his, kissing him lightly, pressing her tongue between his lips, letting him taste himself on her.

She let her hands run down his arms and sides until she reached his waistband. "Lift," she said. Spike lifted his hips, and she pulled his jeans down, then tugged them down his legs, tossing them on the floor beside her own discarded clothing.

"Slide forward," she tapped his leg. Without a word, Spike slid forward on the couch. Willow pushed the coffee table aside and knelt between his legs, leaned forward, and took one of his balls into her mouth. She sucked on it, and rolled it around in her mouth, and then let it slip out and took the other one into her mouth.

"Willow," he groaned again, as he felt his cock respond to her ministrations. Ignoring him, Willow took his entire sac into her mouth, rolling his testicles together, the fingers of one hand pressing against his perineum, the fingers of the other rolling and pinching one of his nipples.

"Bleedin’...hell! Willow!" he roared as she moved her fingers further back and ran them over his puckered hole. "Fuck, fuck, Willow!"

Willow was soaking wet by this time. She let go of him and climbed up onto his lap, straddling his legs. She held his engorged cock with one hand, the other on his shoulder for balance, and placed his head at her entrance. She lowered herself onto him, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back as he filled her.

Grabbing his head between her hands, she lowered her face to his and kissed him as she rode him, letting her clit rub against his pelvic bone with each downward motion. She opened her eyes and stared into his, both reflecting the passion they felt.

"Spike," she moaned his name, the first sound she made in what seemed like hours to Spike’s overloaded senses. "I love you, Spike," she rode him faster, taking him deeper, and dropped her face to his neck. She sucked on the spot where she had claimed him, until a purpling bruise covered his skin.

"Willow, luv, love you, too," he groaned, the muscles in his arms bunching as he fought the desire to lower his arms and touch her.

She felt herself getting close, and placed one of her hands between them, her fingers finding her swollen clit. "Spike," she groaned against his neck, then opened her mouth and teased him with her teeth.

"Willow, cor, Willow, luv," he babbled as he felt her teeth on his neck. "Please, Red, luv, please," the muscles in his neck corded.

Willow bit down hard as her muscles tensed. Her body shuddered as her orgasm ripped through her. Spike roared her name as her teeth closed on his neck, her muscles closed around his cock. He brought his arms down, his cuffed hands on the back of Willow’s head.

He lowered his head and shifted to his true face, and slid his fangs into her neck. Willow released his neck and screamed and he drew her second orgasm out of her along with her blood. When they were both empty and sated, they lay together, recovering. Willow licked the blood off of Spike’s neck and he lapped the puncture marks on hers.

Willow lifted her head and smiled down at Spike; the smile of a woman well satisfied. She lowered her lips to his, and kissed him; the soft, gentle kiss of a woman in love.

"I love you," she whispered.

"Love you, too, Red," he replied. "Love you, too."

***

Willow fell against him and let her body relax. She’d never been so well loved, or so often, as she was with Spike. Spike rubbed his cheek against her hair. He loved the feel of her soft, silky hair against his skin. Sometimes, he couldn’t believe how much she loved him, and this made it seem real. Holding her, touching her.

"Fuck!" he sat up sharply, dislodging Willow.

"What? What’s wrong?" she asked sleepily, having nearly drifted off.

"Fuck!" Spike growled again, banging his head against the back of the couch. "Bloody wankin’ bugger of a soddin’ sire!"

"Uh, let me guess. This has something to do with Angel?" Willow asked.

"He’s here, in Sunnydale," Spike replied, his face screwed up in anger, frustration...fear. Now he realized what the tingle had been warning him about. But Willow’s mouth on his cock had fogged his mind.

"Hey! Maybe he’s here about your accounts," Willow suggested hopefully.

"No, he’d have called if he was here about the accounts," Spike said. "I’d bet my left nut he’s here because he found out about the soddin’ restoration spell! Bloody pillock!"

"Are you sure?" Willow swallowed nervously.

"Positive," he growled.

"Wh-where is he?" she asked, her grip tightening on Spike’s shoulder.

"Close," Spike replied. "We need to get dressed."

"Oh, goddess, right!" Willow had completely forgotten she was naked in the wake of the bad news of Angel’s impending visit. She climbed off of Spike and reached for her panties, then noticed Spike looking at her strangely. "What?" she asked.

Spike just raised his hands. "Oh, here," she reached out and took one of the cuffs in her hands, feeling for the catch to release it. It disengaged with a ‘snick’ and she moved to the other one. As soon as he was free, Spike shoved the torn t-shirt off of his shoulders.

Willow grabbed the ruined t-shirt and used it to clean her thighs off, and then pulled on her bra and panties. Spike had pulled on his jeans and stood watching her pull her own up over her hips and zip them.

"What?" she asked as she buttoned her jeans and reached for her t-shirt.

"Love you," he said, which made Willow freeze.

"Don’t say it like that," she said, tears coming to her eyes.

"Like what?" he asked.

"Like it’s over!" she cried.

"No! Not over! Never over!" he grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. "I just...I know that bleedin’ ponce is going to do something to screw with us, and I needed to say that...I just needed to say that."

"I love you, Spike!" Willow held him tightly, desperately. "And we won’t let him screw with us. It’s none of his business! It’s nobody’s business but ours! Right?" she asked worriedly

"Right," he held her like he’d never let go, and lowered his lips to place a kiss on the top of her head.

"He’s here," Spike whispered, just before the doorbell rang.

***

Willow pulled out of Spike’s arms, quickly pulled her t-shirt on over her head, and took his hand. "Come on," she led him out of the living room and to the front door. She took a deep breath, and pulled the door open. "Hello, Angel," she said.

Angel just looked at Willow, surprised at her lack of surprise. But then, he shouldn’t have been. Spike had probably sensed his arrival. He looked at his childe and could see in his posture, in the narrowed eyes and set features of his face, that Spike *had* known of his arrival, and the reason for it.

The scent of sex filled his nostrils and he noticed the fresh bite mark on Willow’s neck. Stupid! How could she be so clever and so stupid at the same time, Angel wondered, not for the first time that night. To allow Spike to bite her, claim her, if what Spike had told him the night they spoke on the telephone was true, was bad enough.

But to even consider allowing Spike to turn her! Spike must have done something, or said something, to convince her that she should do this. Angel’s vision clouded and he saw red. He felt his features start to change, then quickly grasped for his control and changed back.

If he hadn’t picked up the telephone in his office and accidentally punched the wrong extension, inadvertently, although fortuitously, overhearing Wesley’s conversation with Giles regarding their progress on revising the restoration spell, he would never have known. He couldn’t believe that Wesley had kept such an important matter from him.

But what he *really* couldn’t believe was that Giles was aware of this, and approved! The whole matter had him completely flummoxed! Spike, he could see attempting something so foolish, but not Willow, or Giles, or Wesley. What was wrong with these people? Had Spike fooled them all?

"Hello, Willow," Angel said, his eyes never leaving Spike’s face. "William," he growled.

"Poof," Spike responded, as he stared daggers at Angel. He had known that his bloody sire wouldn’t be able to keep his nose out of his life when he found out that Spike wanted to turn Willow. Tosser.

"Let me in. We need to talk," Angel was still growling.

"About what?" Willow asked before Spike could speak. Spike curled his lips and pulled Willow back against him as he stared at his sire, separated from him by the barrier that wouldn’t allow the stupid git to pass through the open doorway. He could almost feel Angel’s frustration at being kept out of the house.

"That’s between me and my childe," Angel replied, still not looking at Willow.

Willow tightened her grip on Spike’s hand as she leaned back against his chest. "Wrong, Angel," she responded firmly. "Anything you have to say concerns both of us."

At her denial of his right as Spike’s sire to speak with him, punish him, Angel turned amber eyes on Willow, and growled at her.

"Hey, wanker, don’t you growl at her!" Spike shoved Willow behind him and turned amber eyes on his sire.

Angel pointed his index finger at Spike. "You are my childe, and I will..."

Willow reached around Spike and slammed the door in Angel’s face. Angel stared at the closed door, stunned and confused by what had just transpired. Who in hell did she think she was?

"Who do you think you are?" he pounded on the door, furious that she had rejected his demand to speak with his childe.

Willow pulled the door open and looked at him with big green eyes. Spike was standing behind her with a smirk on his face. He was feeling a lot better now that Willow had stood up to his sire. "I live here, with Spike. We’ve claimed each other," Willow replied. "Who do you think you are?"

"I...," Angel hesitated, anger making it difficult for him to speak. "I’m...his...sire," he spoke slowly, just to make sure she understood.

"When it’s convenient for you to be," she responded pertly. "Well, it’s not convenient for us just now, so why don’t you head on back to L.A.?"

"Willow," Angel tried to modulate his voice so that he wasn’t growling. "I would like to discuss the revision of the restoration spell that Giles and Wesley are working on," he spoke calmly.

"Oh," Willow crossed her arms and leaned back against Spike’s chest again. "What about it? Do *you* know how to revise it?" she had a sudden thought.

"No!" he slammed his fist into the doorframe. "Let me in the house. Now."

"What do you intend to do, should I agree to that?" Willow asked.

"I am going to beat the living hell out of..."

Willow narrowed her eyes and slammed the door in his face again.

~Part: 43~

Angel could hear Spike’s laughter from the other side of the closed door.

"Did you see the look on his face? Priceless!" Spike laughed at his sire’s expense. Willow turned in his arms and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest.

"He’s not going to go away, is he?" she asked, as Angel pounded on the front door.

"Uh, no, probably not," Spike admitted. "And if he does, he’ll probably..."

"Willow, let me in there right this minute, or I’ll go talk to Buffy about this!" Angel demanded.

"Oh...crap!" Willow said under her breath. "He *can’t* tell Buffy!" she looked up at Spike with worried eyes.

"Bloody bastard!" Spike hissed, squeezing Willow.

"Uh, Spike! Need to breathe," Willow managed to get out.

"Sorry, luv," Spike loosened his grip, but didn’t let her go.

"William," Angel growled through the door.

"Oh, sod all!" Spike cried. He placed a kiss on the top of Willow’s head, and reached around her to pull the front door open again.

Angel was livid. He had come here to protect Willow and she was denying his right to speak with his childe. To punish him. A sudden thought hit Angel. Perhaps Willow had done something to Spike. The door opened, and he looked into the blue eyes of his wayward childe.

He looked down at the redhead held tightly against Spike’s chest. Her big green eyes were watery. "Willow..."

"You have to promise, Angel," Willow began. "Promise that you won’t hurt Spike, that you’ll listen...and that you won’t say anything to Buffy."

"Willow, I can’t...," he shook his head. There was no way he could make those promises. She had to understand that.

"She’ll kill him," Willow said. "She’s already tried to kill him when he couldn’t defend himself."

"What?" Angel shook his head in confusion.

"Buffy," Willow said adamantly. "You can’t tell her."

"Willow, I can’t promise not to tell Buffy," Angel said, not understanding what she was talking about. "She’s your friend. I..."

"Then we have nothing to say to you," Willow felt a tear well up and slide down her cheek. "We’ll be gone before you find her. Goodbye, Angel," Willow turned away from him and buried her face in Spike’s chest.

Spike was stunned. Willow still refused to back down to his sire. He’d never had any real doubts about the way she felt about him. She’d removed his chip, for hell’s sake, and she wanted him to turn her so they could be together forever. But she had just eased any residual fear he might have had; that he wasn’t good enough for her, that she’d tire of him, that she’d leave him. She was willing to leave Sunnydale and all of her friends to remain with him.

"Gone?" Angel asked stupidly. "From Sunnydale? But...why?" he was so confused, and this visit wasn’t working out the way he’d planned. Well, planned during the two-hour drive to get here.

"Because, poof, if you go to the Slayer," Spike spoke slowly, "and tell her about the restoration spell, she will try to kill me. Again. If she tries to kill me, I will have to try to kill her. One of us will die, and it won’t be me, because I have too much to live for. Despite the fact that she has already tried to kill me, Willow would prefer that neither of us dies, even Bitchy."

"Now," he continued, ignoring his sire’s look at the name he called Buffy, "if you still insist on telling the Slayer about the restoration spell, Willow and I will be forced to leave Sunnydale to prevent said killing. Are you with me?" he finished sarcastically.

"Buffy tried to kill you?" Angel asked. His mind was racing. He knew Spike had just explained why he and Willow would be leaving Sunnydale, but he couldn’t get past the part where Spike said Buffy had tried to kill him. Spike must have done something to make Buffy try to kill him. Hell, he was Spike’s sire and *he* wanted to kill him!

Then he remembered that Willow had said the same thing. Buffy had tried to kill Spike when he couldn’t defend himself. What did she mean by that?

"Buffy tried to kill you?" he asked again.

***

Willow sighed. "Come in, Angel."

Spike wasn’t surprised at the invitation. He had felt Willow’s body relax, and the deep sigh, just before she issued the invitation. He also realized that Angel had calmed since he’d first arrived on their doorstep, where he’d been kept waiting for fifteen minutes now. Spike took a step back and gave his sire room to enter.

Angel looked at Willow in surprise, and watched as Spike moved back to allow him to enter. Willow took Spike’s hand and led him into the living room. Angel stepped through the nonexistent barrier and softly closed the door before following them into the living room.

The smell of popcorn and sex permeated the room, and the coffee table had been moved away from the couch. Were those cuffs lying on the coffee table?

Willow pulled Spike over to the couch. She picked up the remains of Spike’s t-shirt and tossed it on the coffee table, covering the cuffs, before sitting down on the couch. Spike lowered himself beside her, his arm going around her shoulders.

"Why don’t you have a seat, Angel," she offered politely.

Angel sat, and the three of them remained silent for several long minutes.

"Why did you come here?" Spike finally asked.

Angel took a deep, unnecessary breath before replying. "I found out about the restoration spell."

"How?" Willow asked, her voice small.

"I overheard a telephone conversation between Wesley and Giles," Angel said.

"You mean they didn’t tell you?" she asked in surprise.

"No," Angel growled, still stung that Wesley had kept this information from him.

"Oh, good," Willow nodded.

"Good?" Angel exploded. "*Good*?"

Willow’s eyes got big. "Yes," she squeaked.

"How is any of this *good*?" he asked.

"Hey, ya bloody wanker!" Spike spoke up. "There’s plenty about this that’s good. In fact, everything about this is good," he pulled Willow against him. "Me and Willow, we’re good."

"Very good," Willow added, resolve face firmly in place.

"Willow," Angel turned his attention on her and tried to keep his voice soft. "How can you want Spike to turn you? You know what vampires are. You know what my life has been like!"

Willow took Spike’s hand in hers. "I love him," she replied simply.

Angel just looked at her, his mouth opening and closing. "That’s not always enough," he said.

"And I’m not Buffy," Willow replied, "nor am I you. Spike and I love each other. He told me that he explained to you about the claim, and the chip," she continued. "We want to be together forever, Angel. We love each other that much."

"It’s not all roses, Willow!" Angel said angrily. "Spike will *kill* you! You’ll be dead! Your soul will leave your body, and a demon will enter it! And even if you *are* able to restore your soul, the demon will still be there!"

"I know," she leaned forward to emphasize her point, "that it’s going to be difficult, having the demon inside me. That’s why we’re trying to find a way to make the restoration permanent. When I wake up, the demon and the soul will both be there. The demon won’t know what it’s like to exist without the soul. Angel, I don’t want to diminish what you’ve gone through, and are still going through, but I won’t have killed anyone to make the soul feel all guilty. The demon and the soul will be able to co-exist peacefully, we hope. And if they don’t, then we’ll figure it out. I think it’s worth it, to spend eternity with Spike."

"‘Sides," Spike broke in, "the bloody spell said we were supposed to spend eternity together, so it’s fated that I turn her."

"The spell?" Angel was dumbfounded. He’d come up here all ready to pull Willow and Spike apart, and maybe punish his childe, and he now found himself confused in his purpose. Willow sounded so sure, and her explanation so plausible. He wanted to believe that it could be done, but believing made him feel sad that it wasn’t that easy for him. And then he felt guilty for thinking about himself. Damn soul!

"Th-the spell on the ring," Willow held her hand up, showing Angel the ring on her thumb. "The, uh, true love spell."

"Right," Angel nodded and leaned back in the chair. He hadn’t really thought about his telephone conversation with Spike too much since that night, except to work on finding his accounts. Spike had told him about the spell, and the claim, and the chip. He should have done something then, if he was going to do anything at all. But he hadn’t. Why?

Because he felt that he had no right to interfere in the lives of the people he left behind when he moved to L.A. He knew that Giles and Buffy were here to take care of them. Finding out that Giles knew about the restoration spell had concerned him, angered him, and he had decided to come up here and put an end to it once and for all.

But, as much as he wanted to protect them, tell them what he thought they should do, he still had no right to interfere in their lives. Not only had he left, but, they were growing up. Had grown up on the hellmouth. Knew what went bump in the night. Or got bumpy in the night.

And Willow...well, she was the smartest of them all. She wouldn’t do something stupid. He looked over at Spike sitting beside her on the couch. Would she? Oh, hell! He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees, resting his head in his hands. This was so...confusing.

"Uh, Angel?" Spike called his name.

Hell must have just frozen over, Angel thought. Spike had actually called him by his name.

"Tell me everything that’s happened, from the beginning," he said into his hands.

Willow and Spike both started talking.

***

Angel had been by turns outraged and embarrassed as Willow and Spike spun the tale of how they’d gotten together. When they got to the part where Buffy had tried to stake Spike in the back when she thought he’d been incapacitated by the chip, his demon had come to the fore. He listened to the rest of their story in vamp face, unable to calm down enough to allow his human face to appear.

When they both finished talking, the three of them sat in silence again as Angel tried to assimilate all of the information he had just learned.

"Uh, Angel?" Willow called to him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why?" he turned yellow eyes on her.

"Oh, just, you know," she touched her forehead. "You’re still all...grrr."

"Sorry," he shook his head and let his demon melt away. "Buffy really tried to kill you?" he looked at Spike. "I mean, *I* want to kill you, but she actually tried to stake you in the back when you weren’t able to defend yourself?"

"Yeah," Spike snorted. "Good thing Red got the chip fixed when she did."
 

Angel was silent for a few moments, and then looked at Willow. "How long has it been since you’ve seen Buffy?" he asked.

"Oh, well, we see her at Giles’ once in a while, when we’re there for research. Although, she wasn’t there last night. But we haven’t seen her for, you know, fun stuff, since the night she tried to kill Spike," Willow replied sadly.

"Your house is for sale," Angel changed the subject. "What are you going to do when it’s sold?"

"Oh, yeah, well, I own the house now," Willow explained. "We decided to sell it and look for someplace that’s, you know, *ours*," she indicated her and Spike.

"Here in Sunnydale?"

"Yes, unless we have to leave, we plan on staying here in Sunnydale," Willow gave him a small smile.

"Right," Angel nodded. "What are you looking for?"

"Hot tub and cable," Spike said. Willow elbowed him in the ribs.

"We’ve looked at about a dozen apartments and small houses, but we haven’t found anything that we really like. They each had some things we liked..."

"Hot tub," Spike interrupted her.

"...and some things we didn’t."

"No tunnel access nearby."

"I’m kinda worried about not having anywhere to live once the house is sold, but until we get a contract, we’re taking our time looking for a place."

Angel thought about offering them the mansion, even if they only needed it in the interim, between selling this house and finding another. He looked at Spike, who stared back at him, as if reading his mind, and decided against it. They were looking for a place they could make their own. Besides, Spike probably didn’t have many good memories of the mansion.

Angel felt the guilt over his treatment of Spike when he had lost his soul rise and fill him. He wondered if there was anything he could do to make up for the way he had hurt Spike. First by leaving him, when he got his soul, and then by taking Drusilla away from him when he lost it. He figured it was true, what they said, children *were* a product of their environment.

He looked at Spike, his arm around Willow, his other hand clutched between both of hers. Perhaps people, even demons, *could* change. Spike had certainly never been your average demon. He had always been full of passion, emotions. Even the Judge had commented upon it.

He had loved Drusilla for over one hundred years; taken care of her when Angelus abandoned them. He was capable of loving. He had even loved Angelus, before he’d left him.

"Well," Angel slapped his hands against his thighs, "I should probably get going. Wesley and Cordy don’t know where I am. They might be worried."

Spike laughed. "You just sailed out of town without even asking Wesley for an explanation?" he asked.

"Er, yeah," Angel admitted as he stood up. "I was a little, uh, angry," he admitted. "I was afraid I’d kill him."

"So you came here to kill *me* instead?" Spike laughed again as he rose to his feet.

"No," Angel denied. "Well, yes, maybe."

"You find anything out about that other?" Spike asked casually. He wasn’t sure if Angel was actually looking into it, or if he’d forgotten about it.

"You mean the, uh, no, not yet," Angel said, a little chagrined that he’d not done a whole lot to look for Spike’s accounts. He wondered if that was in part so Spike wouldn’t have the means to take care of himself, so he would have to rely on Angel, as much as Angel claimed not to want that.

"Willow knows ‘bout the accounts," Spike said.

"Oh, right. Well, I’ll make it a priority when I get back," Angel said. "After all, you’ll need money if you’re going to get your own place, right?"

"Right," Spike merely nodded. He knew Willow had some money in the house account, and she’d receive more money from the sale of the house, but he wanted to be able to take care of her. She was his woman, after all.

Angel turned and walked towards the foyer. Willow stood and took Spike’s hand as they both followed him.

"Bye, Angel," Willow said as he pulled the front door open.

"Bye, Willow," he leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead. "Take care."

"You too, Angel."

"Spike," Angel looked at his childe.

"Poof," Spike rolled his eyes. He stepped into the doorway and watched as Angel turned his back and walked across the porch, down the steps, and across the lawn. His chest ached, and he couldn’t figure out why. Angel suddenly stopped walking, and turned back to look at him.

***

Angel walked purposefully towards his car. His business here was concluded and he needed to get back to L.A. But why did he feel like he’d left something unfinished? He stopped walking and turned around. Spike was standing in the doorway, staring after him.

He took a step forward, and then another, until he was back up on the porch, standing directly in front of Spike.

"Spike," he softly spoke his childe’s name again.

"Angel?" Spike whispered, confused.

Angel wrapped his arms around Spike and pulled him against his chest, holding him tightly and burying his face in Spike’s neck. Spike stood stiff and unyielding; uncertain.

"Childe," Angel whispered against his neck.

"Sire," Spike relaxed in Angel’s arms, and put his own arms around his back, his fingers gripping the larger man’s coat.

Willow watched the reunion of sire and childe with tears in her eyes. She loved Spike so much, but she’d never realized how much he actually missed his sire, how much he missed Angel. He’d understood all-too-well her pain and loneliness at her estrangement from her parents, and now she knew why.

It had been so long, too long, since he’d felt the comforting, loving embrace of his sire, and Spike was overcome with emotion. He felt tears well up in his eyes.

"Ponce," he whispered, and neither he nor Angel knew which one of them he was talking about.

~Part: 44~

As soon as she closed the door behind Angel, Willow called Giles to let him know that the dark vampire had paid them a visit. She did not, however, tell him that Spike and Angel had seemed to make a peace of sorts. As she spoke into the receiver, she glanced over at Spike, who was sitting on the couch, staring off into space.
After ascertaining that they were both well, Giles agreed to call Wesley and warn him that Angel was aware of their work on the restoration spell. Willow hung up the telephone and walked over to the couch. She knelt in front of Spike and placed her hands on his knees.

"You okay?" she asked.

Spike opened his mouth to say of course he was alright, he was the big bad, but he hesitated. He wasn’t really sure what had happened here tonight. Angel had shown up in Sunnydale to stake him for even considering turning Willow, and instead they had...what? What did that hug mean? Or the word ‘childe’ on Angel’s lips; the word ‘sire’ on his own?

He felt like the wall he had built to hold back the pain of Angelus’ betrayal and abandonment was crumbling. He didn’t know if he wanted to let it fall. Didn’t know if he wanted to let Angel back in. That way laid the possibility for more heartache.

Really, how was Spike going to be able to live up to his souled sire’s expectations of him? He loved Willow, but he was no good guy, determined to save the world, and that’s what Angel would want. Would need. He couldn’t love someone like Spike, especially now that the chip didn’t even hold him back from hurting humans. He’d already proved that once, when he left Spike and Dru with that bitch Darla.

He needed to build the wall back up. But how?

Finally he shrugged and nodded. "‘M fine."

Willow slid onto his lap and slipped her arm around his shoulders. She leaned against him and pulled his head against her, rubbing her hand up and down the back of his head and neck. "It’s okay to not be fine," she whispered into his hair.

"What does he want from me?" Spike whispered, his voice tortured.

"Maybe he just missed you, too," Willow said.

"I can’t be what he wants me to be," he continued. "I’ll disappoint him, just like I did before. Killed a Slayer for him, you know," his voice shook. "In China. Couldn’t make him stay, though. Didn’t," he swallowed hard, "didn’t know what he wanted."

"I’m sorry he left you; I’m sorry he hurt you," Willow placed a kiss on his head.

"And then Dru and I got to Sunnydale," Spike lifted his head and wiped the tears from his eyes, "and he was all soul-having and righteous, helping the Slayer. Until he lost his soul," Spike gave a bitter laugh. "Then he was a bastard. Still wasn’t good enough. ‘Specially since I was in a wheelchair... stupid bitch!" he swore at the Slayer who had put him in the chair.

"And he took Dru. Not that she was mine; not really. You’d think after almost a hundred years, she’d have gotten over him. You’d think I would have," he looked into Willow’s face and saw the tears building in her eyes.

"Oh, baby, don’t cry," he pulled her against him and leaned back on the couch.

"I hurt when you hurt," she whispered, running her hand over his bare chest. "I love you, Spike."

"I love you, too, Red," he lifted her head and placed his lips against hers. "Love you so bloody much. Don’t ever leave me, ‘eh?"

"Never," she shook her head ‘no’.

***

The next evening, Willow and Spike showed up at Giles’ apartment for the regularly scheduled research meeting. As soon as they got there, Giles grilled them on Angel’s visit. Wesley had called him earlier in the day and told him that Angel had offered to assist with the research on the revision of the restoration spell.

Spike, who had been quiet since Angel’s visit the night before, withdrew into himself and remained that way, not even rousing when Xander and Anya arrived.

"Hey, G-man, Wills, Fang!" Xander greeted them, as he and Anya rushed through the door. Ever since Spike’s chip had been disabled, and the day Xander had called him ‘fangless’, only to realize that it was no longer true, he had shortened his previous nickname for the vampire to reflect his new status.

"Hello, everyone," Anya chirped.

"Hello, Anya, *Xander*," Giles gave the younger man a pointed, long-suffering look, but didn’t say anything about the ‘hated’ nickname.

"Hey, Xan, An," Willow looked up from the book she was reading and welcomed her friends. "How’s work been treating you, Xan?" she asked.

"I’m beat," he fell into one of the chairs around the table and twirled a book around with his finger. "We’ve been working from sunup to sundown all week, and I’m way past ready for it to be over with."

"Yes, you have been too tired for orgasms lately, *but*," Anya emphasized, as she looked over at Willow, "he is going to bring home a lot of money!"

"You’re working on that revitalization thing?" Willow asked.

"Yep!" Xander leaned back in the chair and stretched his neck. "The great ‘Sunnydale Waterfront Beautification and Revitalization Program’. The owner of the warehouse we’re working on is turning it into condos, and as soon as he got his permit he had us in there working. He wants to be the first one finished so he can fill it up. The money’s good," he admitted, "but I’m already looking forward to being finished with it. The boss estimated four weeks," Xander yawned. "After I sleep all day Saturday, you guys want to hit The Bronze? Celebrate the end of the work week?"

"What about *our* celebration, Xander?" Anya asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Giles loudly closed his book and retreated to the kitchen.

"Uh, well, An, we can have orgasms *before* we go, and *after* we get back, how’s that?" Xander tilted his head, too tired to worry about reminding Anya about ‘private’ conversations.

Anya thought for a minute. "Okay," she smiled, happy again.

"So," Xander asked, "what’s wrong with Deadboy, Jr.?"

Willow looked over at the blond vampire who had ignored their entire conversation. "Oh," she gave Xander a small smile, "he didn’t get much sleep last night."

"Did you have many orgasms?" Anya asked.

"Uh, no," Willow responded, just as the door opened.

"Hey," Oz said as he held the door for Tara.

"Hey, Oz, buddy, " Xander greeted the other man. "Tara."

"Hey, guys!" Willow smiled, glad to see them.

"Hi," Tara smiled and gave them a small wave.

"You guys up for The Bronze on Saturday night?" Xander asked, as they took seats around the table.

"If I’m in town," Oz said. "Devon might call. Tara?" he looked at the blonde.

"Yeah, Bronze sounds great!" Tara replied.

The door opened again, and Buffy entered the apartment.

"Uh, hello," Buffy said, as she closed the door behind her. A muted chorus of hellos met her greeting. "What’s up?" she asked.

"Nothing much," a tired Xander replied. "Just talking about Bronzing it," he froze.

"Oh," Buffy said, uncomfortably.

"Yeah," Willow said. "Saturday night. Wanna go?"

All eyes in the apartment turned to stare at her, even the blue eyes of her lover, who was finally roused from whatever internal debate he’d been having. Buffy looked around the table, as all eyes then turned to her. Except for Spike, who was still staring at Willow in disbelief.

"Yeah," she shrugged with a small, self-conscious smile. "Alright."

***

"I can’t believe you asked the Slayer to go to The Bronze with us!" Spike said, as they drove home. The Slayer was nothing but trouble. Stupid bint had tried to keep him and Willow apart, and had tried kill him. But worst of all, she’d hurt Willow. She could bloody well rot, for all he cared. And now Willow was trying to play nice. And she’d just end up getting hurt again. Silly chit.

"She was my best girl friend, Spike, and I’d like it if we could all get along. I want her to get to know you. I want to stop worrying that if I turn my back, she’s gonna try and stake you, or you’re gonna say something to precipitate a big argument. I just...I’d like to have my friend back, if I can," Willow started to babble. "I mean, I know I’ve got you, and Xander, and Anya, and Tara, and Oz, and even Giles. But I miss her, Spike. I miss the way things were before she got angry over my relationship with you. I know it started out as her being worried for me. I mean, you are the big bad. And then it just exploded into this hate/kill thing that’s tearing us all apart! And Xander and Giles are caught in the middle, having to choose sides. We have to work together...I’d like it to not be so uncomfortable, even if we can’t get back to the way it was before," Willow frowned and crossed her arms over her chest.

"You done now?" Spike asked when Willow fell silent.

"Yes," she muttered, and Spike reached out and tugged at her hand, holding it in his.

"I just don’t want to have a lousy time because the Slayer says or does something to upset you," he said, as he steered the Expedition down the road with one hand.

Willow yawned and Spike squeezed her hand. "What time do you have to leave for class tomorrow?" he asked.

"Early," Willow spoke through a second yawn. "I’ve got to meet with one of my professors before class to go over my paper."

"I hate it when you’re gone all day," Spike muttered.

"Do you need some more books, or something?" Willow asked.

"No," Spike denied petulantly. "Need you."

"But you sleep most of the day, so you don’t even realize I’m gone, do you?" Willow asked.

Spike didn’t answer as he pulled into the driveway. He let go of Willow’s hand to turn the key, and opened his door and slid out. Willow sat in her seat watching him for a couple of seconds before opening her own door and jumping out.

She walked around the vehicle to where Spike was standing, his head bent, lighting a cigarette. "Spike..."

"I’m gonna head into town," he interrupted her. "Need to find something to eat. Need to kill something."

Willow’s eyes widened.

"Not the *same* something," he assured her sarcastically.

"Spike...," she tried again.

"Get inside before I leave," he said.

"What’s wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied shortly. "Get inside now. Go on," his voice softened.

"Spike, please..."

"Willow," he said sharply, and then paused. "I need to think, I need to kill something, and I need to eat. You go on in and go to bed. You won’t even notice I’m gone," he added meanly.

Tears filled Willow’s eyes at his tone. She knew he’d been upset since Angel’s visit the night before, and now after their disagreement over Buffy, but she didn’t want him to go away mad. She was afraid of what he might do, who he might pick to fight; that he might not be as careful because his mind would elsewhere.

"Don’t," he said with a deep sigh when he saw her tears.

"Just don’t get killed, alright?" she said as she backed away from him, and then turned and walked toward the house, her shoulders slumped. She climbed the steps and made it to the front door, her fingers fumbling with the keys. She refused to turn around and see if he was still standing there.

Spike watched her walk away from him; could see the misery in her posture, could smell it on the night air. With an angry shake of his head, unsure whether he was angry at her or himself, he dropped his cigarette to the ground and crushed it out. He silently crossed the yard and climbed the steps behind her.

Spike wrapped one arm around her and pulled her back against him, taking the keys out of her hand and unlocking the door for her. He pushed the door open, and turned her around to face him.

"I won’t get killed," he promised. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she sniffled.

He lowered his head and placed his lips gently over hers. Willow let her book bag drop from her fingers to the porch floor and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him tight against her and returning his kiss, deepening it. She was breathing heavily when they finally pulled apart.

"Be careful," she whispered, with a small smile.

"I’ll be careful," he chucked her on the chin. "Like you said, I’m the big bad," he smirked at her, and Willow’s smile widened.

Spike turned and jumped off of the porch, and strode off into the night. Willow stood in the open doorway and watched him until the shadows claimed him. She stepped into the foyer and closed the door, looking around her at the empty house. Now she knew what Spike felt like when she left him alone.

She set her book bag down, took her jacket off, and hung it up. Without turning the lights on, she went to the kitchen for a glass of water, and then made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. She lit some candles, preferring their softer glow to the harsh illumination of her bedside lamp.

Willow looked around the bedroom, wondering whether she should just go to bed as Spike suggested. She headed for the bathroom to wash her tear-stained face and brush her teeth. She looked in the mirror over the sink and shook her head. She was pale, except for her red eyes.

She had too much on her mind to attempt to sleep, so she decided to take a bath. She lit some candles in the bathroom and began drawing water to fill the tub, adding a couple capfuls of her vanilla scented bubble bath, ‘cause she liked the extra bubbles.

She went back to her bedroom and took off her clothes, throwing them into the hamper and grabbing a ‘Hello Kitty’ nightshirt Buffy had bought for her last year. As an afterthought, she grabbed the book of poetry lying on the bedside table. She wanted to see what Spike found so fascinating.

Scampering back to the bathroom, she threw some towels on the floor within easy reach, carefully climbed into the tub, and lowered herself into the warm water. She adjusted the flow of water so a trickle of hot water continued to heat the water in the tub, leaned back, and opened the book. She found a couple of pages that had dog-eared corners, so Willow started with those.

After about thirty minutes, Willow felt like a prune. She laid the book on the floor, turned off the water, and opened the drain, then stood and reached for one of the towels. After drying off, she slipped the nightshirt over her head. She rinsed the tub and blew out the candles. Picking up the book, she headed back to the bedroom, determined to read until Spike came home.

Sometime during the night, Willow was startled awake by the loud bang of the front door being slammed closed. She sat up and looked around the room, her heart racing. The candles were still lit, and the book she’d fallen asleep reading lay on the bed beside her.

She looked towards the doorway as she heard Spike’s booted footsteps climbing the stairs and moving down the hallway. He filled the doorway, his leather duster billowing around him, and leaned on the doorframe.

Willow stared at him in horror. He was covered in blood, and based on the bruises and cuts covering his face, some of it was his.

"Hey, Red," he greeted her carefully around a swollen and bloodied lip, as he looked at her out of one eye, the other having swollen shut on the walk home.

"Goddess, Spike!" she cried, as she slipped off of the bed and walked towards him. "I thought you said you were going to be careful?"

"Was," he tried to smirk. Willow just shook her head.

~Part: 45~

Willow sat in class, twirling her pen through her fingers. This was one of her favorite classes, and she usually found the subject matter interesting, but today her mind was filled with Spike. Everything from his reaction to Angel’s visit, to his complaints of being alone all day, to his bruised and bloodied body. She let her mind drift back to last night.
With a deep sigh, and still shaking her head, Willow pushed Spike’s duster off of his shoulders. She pulled it off of his arms and threw it over her chair, then led him to the bathroom. She pushed him down on the closed toilet seat and turned her attention to getting the first aid kit out.

"Hey!" Spike protested her rough treatment of him as he dropped heavily onto the toilet.

"Oh, please, Mr. I-was-careful! If you can handle getting beaten up by some big, ugly, vicious demon, you can handle being pushed around by little ol’ me." She looked over at him with narrowed eyes. "It *was* big and vicious, right?"

"‘Course. But I think my ribs are broken," he whined.

"Oh, no!" Willow responded with concern, and carefully pushed his t-shirt up to gently probed his ribs. "That hurt?" she asked.

"No."

"How about this?" her voice hardened and she narrowed her eyes, pressing harder.

"Ow!" he yelled. Willow stood up with a satisfied air.

"Yep, you were right. Broken," she said, nodding as she set out the peroxide and gauze pads. Stupid vampire. He promised he’d be careful and he goes out and...and...

"Talk about vicious," Spike muttered, holding his side protectively.

"You promised you’d be careful," she admonished him angrily, fearfully, as she set about cleaning his cuts. "*This* does not look like careful to me!"

"Was too careful," Spike pouted, "but there were three of them, and..."

"Three of them?" Willow dabbed furiously at the cuts on his face. "How does taking on three big, ugly, vicious demons equal careful in your definition?"

"I only took on one," Spike replied, as Willow knelt before him, lifted his hands one at a time, and cleaned the scraped and bloodied knuckles. "Didn’t know he had friends," he added sulkily.

Willow placed a light kiss on his knuckles, and then laid her head on his lap. Spike ran his fingers through her hair.

"I’m alright, baby," he whispered.

"Are we alright?" Willow asked the question that had been bothering her since Spike left.

"‘Course we’re alright!" Spike grabbed her shoulders and lifted her so he could look into her eyes. "We’re forever."

Willow moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, carefully resting her head on his chest.

"I didn’t like arguing with you," she whispered. "I was afraid that it would make you careless in a fight, if you were thinking about us. Or Angel. And...I’ve never fought with anyone. Well, with Oz. Not until the day he left, that is, and even that wasn’t much of a fight...but he still left. I was afraid...afraid that you might get mad enough to leave."

"Oh, no, Willow, luv," Spike hugged her tight, ignoring the pain in his ribs. "Nothing you could ever do would make me want to leave you."

"Nothing?" she asked softly.

"Nothing!" he repeated adamantly. Willow pulled back and smiled at him. "You gonna test that?" he asked suspiciously.

Willow silently shook her head ‘no’. She untied Spike’s boots and pulled them off, then rose to her feet. "Come on," she pulled Spike to his feet, "let me see the rest of it."

Spike removed his t-shirt and jeans and Willow tsk’d and ooh’d over his many bruises as she gently ran her hands over his body. When she was done examining him, she placed both hands on his rib cage and spoke a healing spell.

"That should take care of the worst of it," she said as she let go and took a step back, only to find herself swaying. Spike reached out and grabbed her before she could fall.

"I’m alright," she assured him. "Just got a little dizzy from the spell. Must be tired. Healing spells don’t usually take that much out of me," she said.

"Ever tried ‘em on a vampire before?" Spike asked, as he led her back to the bedroom.

"No," she admitted. "But I figured it’d be easier on you, what with vamp healing and all," she said.

"Your spells are probably written and intended for humans, luv," he said as he carefully lowered her to the bed.

"Then I’ll have to write one for you," she said as she laid back, her eyes already closing, "‘cause you’re gonna need it if this is your definition of careful."

***

The sounds of the other students closing their books and getting out of their seats roused Willow. She looked around guiltily, and then closed her own notebook and slid it into her book bag. She walked out of the classroom, her mind only partly on where she was going.

Willow paused outside the building. She had an hour before her next class, so decided to head to the library to see if she could get any studying done. Choosing a seat in the back, where it was quiet, Willow pulled out her textbook and highlighter, and began to read. Her mind drifted again.

She felt bad for Spike, who was hurting and confused over his relationship with Angel. And what kind of relationship was it? Sure, they were sire and childe, but that was too simple. Their relationship was more complicated than that.

Angelus had been cursed with a soul, and had subsequently abandoned Spike, leaving him to take care of Dru. When they had been ‘reunited’, Spike was angry, embittered, after his sire’s blood for only one reason; to save Dru. And then Angelus had made a return visit.

Angry and embittered didn’t even come close to describing his emotions. He was mad, insane. Wanted to end the world. Spike had helped Buffy stop him, at the eventual expense of his relationship with Drusilla. And then he had returned to Sunnydale for the Gem of Amara, which Buffy had managed to take from him.

She had sent the ring to Angel in L.A., and Spike had gone after it. He was responsible for the torture of a sire he professed to hate. Yep, complicated might even be an understatement, she sighed deeply. She wished she knew what to tell him, how to help him with this, but she didn’t. Heck, look at the non-relationship she had with her own parents!

Willow checked her watch, and then packed her book bag and headed to her next class. She remembered Spike’s comment from last night, that he hated her being gone all day.

She had been lonely last night while Spike was gone. Knowing that he’d be back, and that she needed to sleep anyway, hadn’t helped. She’d even tried to stay awake until he came home, just to make sure he made it safely. How much worse must it be to be *forced* to stay in an empty, lonely house because the sun was out?

As she walked to her next class, she tried to think of something she could do for him; to ease his loneliness, to assure him that she would always be back. She watched a group of students playing on the campus grounds. One student threw a frisbee, and a dog jumped up to catch it in its mouth, swiping the frisbee just before a second student could catch it.

The second student made a grab for the dog, but the dog easily eluded him. Soon, all of the students were chasing the dog, and Willow could swear that the dog was grinning around the frisbee in its mouth as it outran its pursuers.

Willow sighed as she walked on. Maybe she should get those phones, the kind where you could talk to each other with the press of a button.

***

After classes and some time in the computer lab, Willow drove over to Willie’s to pick up some human blood for Spike. She smirked in an eery imitation of Spike; he was going to be way too busy to go out tonight to feed.

Willow pulled into the driveway and parked the SUV. She grabbed her book bag and the bag from Willie’s, and then jumped out of the vehicle. Sometimes, she really hated being short! She pushed the door shut and headed up the walk to the house, juggling the keys in her hand as she tried to grab the key to the front door.

She unlocked the door and pushed it open, then quietly shut it, and listened for any noises in the house. When she didn’t hear anything, she set her book bag down and headed for the kitchen. She took the Styrofoam container out of the bag and poured some of the blood into a mug.

Placing the mug in the microwave, she set the timer, and then put the rest of the blood in the fridge. When the timer dinged, she grabbed the mug out of the microwave and headed up the stairs to their bedroom.

She smiled when she saw Spike still lying in bed, asleep. He was lying on his stomach, his hands buried under the pillows, the blankets kicked down so that his back was exposed. She set the mug on the bedside table and lay down on the bed beside him. She lay on her side, her elbow supporting her, her head resting on her hand.

She ran her other hand softly over his back. She knew he probably hadn’t spent the entire day in bed. He often woke, read, or watched ‘Passions’, and then fell back to sleep. It was difficult for him, trying to keep human and vampire hours. She lowered her head and placed a kiss on his shoulder.

"Missed you," she whispered, and then rested her head on his folded arm, waiting for him to awaken.

Spike opened his eyes until they were little slits, and stared into hers. He had felt her come home, but his body hadn’t roused until he smelled the blood she brought with her into the bedroom. Even then he didn’t move. He loved it when she first got home, when she showed him that she hated spending time away from him as much as he hated her leaving.

"Hi," she smiled at him. "How do you feel?" she rubbed her hand over his back, now that he was awake and she wasn’t afraid of waking him. She loved the way he felt.

"‘M fine," he replied sleepily. "How was school?"

"I didn’t pay attention in class, and I didn’t get any studying done."

"That’s not like you," Spike said as he rolled to his side so he could look at her straight-on. "What happened?"

"I thought about you all day," she admitted as her fingers brushed his chest. She shifted closer to him, until their bodies touched. She placed her hand at the back of his neck and held his head still as she moved in to kiss him. Spike took little convincing to kiss her back. Willow deepened the kiss as she lifted her leg over his and pressed herself against him.

When she pulled back, she was breathless. Spike reached for her again, but she moved away from him. Grabbing the mug of heated blood, she held it out to him.

"Here, drink up," she said.

"How come you brought me blood?" he asked as he sat up and took the mug from her. He sniffed it. "Human," he said.

"I stopped at Willie’s," Willow admitted. Spike didn’t reply, just raised an eyebrow at her as he drained the mug.

"Why?" he asked when he was done. He licked his lips and set the mug aside.

"‘Cause it’s the only place I know where we can get..."

"No," Spike interrupted her. "Not why did you go to Willie’s; why did you bring me the blood in the first place?"

"Oh," Willow blushed prettily. She climbed onto her knees and straddled his legs, her hands gripping his shoulders. "Figured you might be too busy, or too tired, to go out and get something to eat later," she whispered, as she lowered her lips to his and kissed him again.

"That so?" he asked when she pulled back to breathe. His hands gripped her hips, his nostrils flared.

"Mmm hmm," she licked his neck as her hands roamed over his chest and back.

Spike let his hands slide up her hips and beneath her top. Willow moaned when cool flesh met heated. His hands continued to move up her sides until they grazed the undersides of her breasts. He lifted his thumbs and brushed them over her nipples, which immediately tightened at his touch.

"Spike," she breathed into his ear, and took his earlobe between her teeth.

With a hiss, Spike pushed her shirt up. Willow obediently raised her arms and Spike lifted it over her head. He roughly pulled the cups of her bra down so that her breasts were exposed. He leaned forward and took one breast into his mouth, his fingers kneading and squeezing the other mound.

He sucked on the nipple, his teeth grazing it, as his fingers lightly pinched and pulled at the other. Willow felt an electric current from her nipples to her core. She moaned as she felt the ache at her center. She rubbed herself against him through the sheet, moaning again as his cock head rubbed her swollen clit.

"Willow," he groaned, stilling her movement.

"Spike, please!" she protested.

"Naked," he said between gritted teeth. Willow froze, and then was a flurry of motion as she pulled her bra off and then unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. She rolled off of him and kicked her sneakers off, and then lifted her hips to shove her jeans and panties down. She kicked them off of her legs and turned back to Spike, her breaths coming fast in anticipation.

Spike had pushed the sheet off of him, and his erect cock jutted proudly against his belly. "Come here, luv," he held out his hand.

Willow ignored him as she stared at his cock. She lowered her head and licked the pearlescent drop of precum off of the head. Spike sucked in an unnecessary breath.

"Luv," he said, his voice husky with desire.

Willow looked up at him and smiled, then allowed him to help her straddle his legs once more. Spike reached between her thighs, his fingers dipping between her slick folds as he checked her readiness. She pushed his hand away and moved forward until his cock was brushing against her entrance.

She reached between them and wrapped her fingers around his shaft, then shifted her body so that she drew his cock head along the length of her slit. She lowered herself onto his head, and then pulled off.

"Wil-low," he hissed as she teased him.

"Yeah, baby?" she asked.

"Just bloody...oh, fuck!" he cried as she lowered herself all the way onto him. He grabbed her hips and started to ramble as she rode him. "Oh, god, yes, Willow, luv, baby, yes, please, more!"

"Like that Spike?" she leaned forward and whispered in his ear as she continued to drive herself onto him. The new position caused her clit to rub against him with every thrust, and Willow bit her lip at the overwhelming sensation.

In response, Spike tightened his grip on her hips and held her as he slammed into her. Willow cried out as he drove into her, hitting her cervix. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her breaths harsh against his ear as she met each thrust.

"Uhh, Spike!" she cried as she felt her body begin to tense. She shifted again, to increase the pressure on her clit. "Ohh, oh, god, Spike!" she sobbed as her muscles clenched and her toes curled. "Oh, god, yes, Spiiike!" her head fell back and she screamed as she came.

Spike could hear her heartbeat speed up, her breaths coming hard and fast, but wished he could see her face; he loved to watch her come, loved to see her reaction to the pleasure he gave her. He slammed into her again and again as she drove herself onto him. He felt her body tense, heard her cry out his name. And then she threw her head back, and he watched her face as she came.

She was so bloody beautiful, and she felt so bleedin’ wonderful around him. He couldn’t believe his luck, that he had found Willow; his true love. Her muscles tightened, gripping him like a fist. He cried out as he felt his own body respond, his muscles tense, his balls tighten, his cock swell, and then his cock pulsed, and again, and again, as he came, shooting his release inside her.

Spent, they half sat, half lay unmoving on the bed, until Willow found the energy to speak. "Oh...god," she moaned.

"Hnn, yeah!" Spike gave a partial smirk, all he had strength for.

"Love you," she moaned.

"Love you, too," he replied, managing to tighten his arms around her.

"Wanna take a bath?" she asked.

"Now?" he whined.

"When we can move," Willow responded.

***

Willow lit the same candles she’d used the night before, and turned the water on to fill the tub. She added bubble bath and swished it around with her hand, then climbed in and scooted up so Spike could climb in behind her.

When he was seated, Willow slid back and settled herself against his chest, her hands resting on his thighs. With a deep breath, she relaxed against him.

"I love you," she said again.

"Love you, too, Red," he kissed the side of her head.

"You know," she said cautiously, "Angelus and Dru; they were fools to leave you. But I can’t be sorry, because it brought you to me."

Spike was silent for a long time, and Willow wondered if she shouldn’t have said anything. "Well, when you put it that way," he finally spoke, "I can’t be sorry either."

Willow smiled. "I hope you can work things out with Angel, though," she took his hands and hugged them to her chest.

"Me too," he whispered as he loosed one hand and lifted it to her chin, tilting her face up to his. He lowered his lips and gently pressed them against hers.

~Part: 46~

Willow woke slowly. She kept her eyes closed, so she could pretend that it wasn’t time to get up, and snuggled closer to Spike. Since he was lying on his stomach, his head and arms practically buried beneath the pillows, Willow ended up with her head on his shoulder, her arm draped over his back, one leg thrown over both of his.
The telephone rang, and Spike was startled awake. He jumped up, his game face on and pillows flying, knocking Willow off of his back. "What? What is it?" he yelled, looking around the room through bleary eyes.

"It’s, uh, the evil phone," Willow patted his arm as she rubbed her temple, where Spike’s elbow had struck her when he bolted to his knees. Her naked warrior; ready for battle. Willow started to giggle as she rolled over and groped for the phone.

"Hello," she said into the receiver, trying to stifle her laughter.

"‘S not funny," Spike whined, and then fell back down onto the bed.

"Oh," Willow said. "Well that, that’s, uh, great news! Yes, of course, we’ll be here. Exciting, yep. Alright, we’ll see you later then." Willow thumbed the ‘off’ button, and then lay back on the bed, holding the forgotten receiver to her chest.

Spike, who had noticed the tension in Willow’s voice and body, had turned to his side, his head propped up in his hand. "What’s wrong?" he asked, his hand gently massaging her belly, trying to help her relax.

Willow continued to stare at the ceiling. "That was, uh, the realtor," she swallowed hard. "She’s bringing by a contract for us to look at. We may have a buyer," Willow tried to smile.

"Thought that would make you happy, luv?" Spike’s tone made it a question. He wondered if Willow was having second thoughts about selling the house she grew up in to get something that was ‘theirs’.

"We don’t have anyplace to go," she replied.

"Oi!" Spike pulled her into his arms. "Don’t you worry about that! If worse comes to worse, we’ll pack everything up and put it in storage, and stay in a hotel until we find a place. We’re not going to be thrown out on the streets, luv. You’ve got some money, there’ll be more when you sell the house, and there’ll be even more when Angelus gets off his bloody bum and finds my accounts! Wanker," Spike added as an afterthought. "And if we need more, I’ll get a loan from the broody git, and pay him back when he finds my funds. No worries, eh?" he stroked her hair reassuringly.

"Alright," Willow agreed with a small smile. "No worries. But we’d better get dressed. The realtor’s on her way over with the contract. What time is it anyway?" she craned her neck to look over Spike’s shoulder and checked the clock radio. "Oh, crap, it’s already eleven!" Willow groaned.

"You mean it’s still soddin’ *morning*?" Spike whined.

***

Spike and Willow got dressed and ate a late breakfast. Spike had a mug of the human blood Willow had purchased, with Oreo cereal in it, and Willow had a bowl of Cheerios with a banana.

"How can you eat that stuff for breakfast?" Willow asked as she watched Spike slurp the Oreo-blood mixture off of his spoon.

"‘S very nutritious," he said, with his mouth full. "Says so on the box."

Willow just shook her head, and Spike grinned at her. The realtor dropped off the contract for them to review just as they finished eating, and Willow assured her that they would get back to her by Monday with their acceptance or a counteroffer. As soon as she left, Spike took the contract and disappeared into the living room.

Willow followed him and saw him ensconced on the couch, carefully reading the contract. Willow smiled, and then returned to the kitchen to wash up their dishes and set them in the drainer. She set her laptop up on the dining room table, pulled out her computer programming text, and began to read the next chapter.

When Spike was finished reading the contract, he carried it into the dining room and sat beside Willow. "What’s wrong?" she asked, at the look on his face.

"Nothing’s *wrong*," he said. "Just wanted to point some things out to you."

"Okay," Willow leaned over and looked at the contract. "What?"

"First, there’s no financing involved, so no worries about a lender turning them down. Secondly, Sunnydale Packing and Shipping is purchasing the house, probably for a new employee," he paused. "And they want to close within 30 days. Non-negotiable. But they didn’t dicker on the price either. They’re willing to pay the full asking price. *And* they’re taking all furnishings listed, too, so no worries about selling or storing them," he finished explaining.

Willow stared at the contract. "Thirty days?" she asked.

"Thirty days. But no worries, right?" he tilted his head to look at her face as he rubbed her back.

Willow swallowed hard, and raised very worried eyes to Spike’s. "No worries," she agreed half-heartedly.

Spike grinned at her. "Nice try," he said, and lifted her chin with his knuckle. "Trust me, Red, everything’ll be fine. ‘Sides, we could always bunk with the Watcher."

"Oh, that’d be dandy," Willow replied, with a roll of her eyes.

***

That night, they picked Xander and Anya up and went to their favorite Mexican restaurant for supper. Anya had called that afternoon to suggest supper before heading over to The Bronze. Willow had been surprised to hear from her.

"Anya! I thought you and Xander were, uh, busy this afternoon," Willow said when she picked up the telephone.

"We are," Anya said. "Xander needed some time to recuperate from his last orgasm. Wuss. He usually has much more stamina than this. Anyway, I suggested that it might be nice to go out to dinner before heading to The Bronze. Are you and Spike interested?"

"Let me ask, okay?" Willow said, remembering his reaction when she invited Buffy to The Bronze and not wanting to set him off again. "Spike," Willow peeked her head into the living room and covered the mouthpiece with her hand. "Do you want to go out to dinner with Anya and Xander before The Bronze?"

"Sure, luv," Spike said without looking away from the television which was showing a program on the history of England on the History Channel. "Where?"

"Uh, Spike said ‘sure’, Anya," Willow spoke into the telephone. "Where’d you have in mind?"

"The Cha Cha?" Anya made it sound like a question. "I’ve been dying...well, you know, not literally...for a quesadilla. Does that sound alright?"

"The Cha Cha sounds great," Willow smiled and glanced over at Spike for confirmation. "Want us to pick you up?"

As they finalized their plans, Willow walked back into the dining room where she was still working on her computer program, and seated herself in front of the laptop. When she disconnected and set the phone aside, she looked up to see Spike standing in the doorway. He was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Why did you ask me about going out to supper?" he asked, his head tilted to the side.

"Oh, well, I didn’t want to say ‘yes’ if you didn’t want to go," Willow explained.

"Why would you think I wouldn’t want to go?" he asked. "Besides the fact that it’s the moron and demon-girl we’re talking about, o’ course," he added.

"Just...well, you got mad about Buffy, and I didn’t want you to be mad again," Willow tried to shrug it off as nothing.

"That was totally different!" Spike pushed himself away from the doorway. "That stupid bint will do anything to keep us apart. She tried to dust me! And she hurt *you*," he jammed a finger in Willow’s direction.

"But she hasn’t," Willow said softly.

"Hasn’t what?" Spike asked.

"Hasn’t done anything to keep us apart. I mean, uh, not since she tried to kill you. She’s been...not really supportive...or accepting...more like, resigned," Willow tried a cheery smile.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Spike asked, placing his hands palm-down on the table and leaning towards Willow. "How often have you seen her in the last month?"

"Uh, I don’t know," Willow shrugged. "A couple of times."

"A couple of times," Spike repeated. "She misses more research sessions than she attends, because she can barely stand to be in the same room with me. You don’t see each other at school, or do lunch, or talk on the phone," Spike stuck a finger out with each statement.

"Maybe she doesn’t know how either," Willow said.

"How what?" Spike asked.

"How to, not really get back to what we had, but...to make up."

"Make up," Spike repeated. "And what makes you think inviting her to The Bronze is going to change anything?"

"It might not. But it’s a first step, and we’ve got to start somewhere," Willow’s chin lifted stubbornly.

"Says you," Spike sighed deeply. "If that bloody twit says or does anything to upset you, I will choke her to death with my bare hands, do you understand me?"

Willow nodded gravely, embarrassed as her body tightened at his words. She wasn’t sure whether she should call Buffy and tell her to stay home, just in case, or rip Spike’s clothes off. She never thought she was the type of girl who’d like it if a guy got all...macho. But she liked it on Spike. Because she knew he loved her, and he’d never really do anything to hurt her. Much, she amended, remembering the spanking.

"Come here," Spike demanded, the scent of Willow’s arousal lightly perfuming the air. Willow swallowed hard, and just stared at him. "Come...here," he repeated slowly, and pointed to the floor directly in front of him. Willow rose and walked around the table, her footsteps hesitant, until she stood in front of Spike.

"Spike, I..."

Willow was cut off as Spike wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and drew her forward, lowered his head, and covered her lips with his. He nibbled on her bottom lip, and sucked it into his mouth. Willow moaned and grabbed his t-shirt for support.

Spike ran his tongue along her lips, then slipped it between them as Willow parted her lips and granted him access. He brushed his tongue over her teeth and wrapped it around her tongue. Willow groaned, as she let her tongue tangle with his. Spike splayed his hand across her butt and pressed her against him, deepening the kiss.

He pulled back to let her breathe. "You almost done with that?" he indicated the laptop on the table.

Willow didn’t take her eyes off of him as she slipped her hands beneath his t-shirt. "I’m just getting started," she said.

"That’s my girl," he grinned his approval and picked her up. Willow wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her upstairs.

***

"Hey, guys!" Willow said, as Xander and Anya climbed into the back seat of the Expedition. Spike was driving because Willow only drove the monstrosity when she had to. She’d talked about selling the vehicle, which was more like a boat, and getting something smaller and more manageable.

Spike suggested they wait until after they moved, especially since Willow had gone to the expense of having the windows tinted for him. He also mentioned that it might come in handy for ferrying passengers and weapons if they needed to fight some big bad. Some *other* big bad that wasn’t nearly as big and bad as him, of course.

"Hello, Willow, Spike," Anya said, as she slid across the back seat to let Xander in.

"Hey, Wills, Fang," Xander greeted them, poking his head, and then the rest of his lanky body into the vehicle. "You ever think about getting a ladder for this thing?" he asked, as he pulled the door shut.

"Piss off, moron," Spike said, as he pulled away from the curb.

"You feeling alright, Xander?" Willow asked worriedly. "You look positively exhausted."

Xander blushed, and Willow turned around in her seat with a satisfied smile on her face.

"That was evil," Spike whispered. "Nice job," he reached out and took her hand.

"Yeah, you’re a hoot," Xander muttered.

It took them longer to get served at the restaurant than they had anticipated, due to a large party arriving just before they did, and they got to The Bronze a good fifteen minutes late. Xander and Willow surveyed the place looking for Buffy before settling on a table.

"Doesn’t look like Buffy’s here yet," Xander commented as they seated themselves around the table for six.

"Maybe she was here already, and left when she didn’t see us," Willow replied guiltily.

"We can always hope," Spike mumbled.

"What?" Willow turned to him.

"Nothing, luv," Spike helped her with her jacket, and then took his duster off and tossed it over the back of his chair. "I’ll get the first round."

"Whoa!" Xander said, as Spike headed towards the bar. "Did he get some bad blood today or something?"

"No," Willow blushed, unconsciously tracing the fresh bite mark on her neck.

Xander’s eyes followed Willow’s fingers, and he groaned, "I so do not want to know this!"

"Know what?" Buffy asked.

Everyone turned or lifted their heads to look at the new arrival in shocked surprise.

"I, uh, am still invited, right?" she asked, her voice even, as she tried to hide the hurt their perceived rejection was already causing.

"Yes! Of course!" Willow cried, pulling out a chair. "We were just worried that you might have already been and left, ‘cause we were a little bit late getting here."

"*I* wasn’t worried," Spike grumbled, as he set four sodas and one beer on the table.

"Spike!" Willow hissed, punching his leg as he sat down beside her. "Be nice. Please. For me." And then she smiled at him when she saw Buffy reach for the soda Spike had brought for her.

Spike winked at her, grabbed the hand that still lay fisted on his thigh, and reached for his beer. He wasn’t going to ruin this night for Red, but if the Slayer so much as looked at her funny, she’d be answering to him. She’d find out who the big bloody bad was then.

Buffy’s first instinct was to snap back at him, or get up and leave, but Willow’s reaction gave her some hope that she hadn’t been invited to join them merely out of pity, or obligation. She picked up one of the sodas and took a sip, belatedly wondering if she should have it checked for poison.

"So," Willow said, gripping Spike’s hand nervously as she reached for her own soda and struggled to find something to talk about. It never used to be this hard. "How have classes been going?"

The five of them talked around long, uncomfortable silences until Oz and Tara showed up. They welcomed the couple with more warmth than was absolutely necessary, pulling up an extra chair and urging them to sit. Xander got the next round of drinks, and after Spike finished his second beer, the blond vampire stood and pulled Willow to her feet.

"Spike! Where are we going?" she asked.

"Dance," he said as he dragged her to the dance floor.

"B-but it’s a fast song!"

"Not for long," Spike muttered. He looked at the DJ, ran his forefinger across his throat, and mouthed ‘slow song’. The DJ cut the song off and immediately queued another, and the strains of a romantic slow song drifted out of the speakers.

"Spike!" Willow lightly slapped his arm as he pulled her against him. "People were dancing to that song!"

"And now they’ll dance to this one," Spike shrugged. He didn’t know what the big deal was. He slipped one hand down to cup her butt as the other pressed her head to his chest. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, rubbed it against her silky hair, and breathed in the scent of her. He loved the way she felt against him, and instinctively tightened his hold on her. He was never giving her up. Never.

"What are you thinking?" Willow asked as she wrapped one arm around his waist, and laid the other on his biceps.

"You’re mine," he whispered, and Willow tingled.

"Yours," she agreed, nodding her head against his chest.

"Always."

"Forever."

The gang watched in silence as Spike dragged Willow off to the dance floor. When the slow song started up, Oz asked Tara to dance, leaving Buffy, Xander, and Anya at the table. Xander hadn’t hung out with Buffy much since he and Anya had pretty much accepted the strangeness that was Willow and Spike. He found himself missing the good times the three of them shared during high school, before the whole rings-and-true-love fiasco, and wondered if they’d ever be able to get it back. Or something close to it.

"Wanna dance?" Xander asked Buffy softly, after a whispered conversation with Anya.

"Uh, sure," Buffy said. She hadn’t seen Xander, other than for research, in almost as long as Willow. She hated the distance between them, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to do the ‘whole-hearted acceptance of Willow and Spike’ thing. Sitting here with them was harder than she thought it would be.

Not because they wouldn’t let her back in, but because they would. And she wasn’t sure if she was ready. She and Spike had managed to not come to blows, but that was probably mainly due to the fact that they’d steered clear of actually speaking to each other. With a strained smile, Buffy took Xander’s hand and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.

~Part: 47~

Willow got home early Monday afternoon. Instead of staying at school and studying at the library, she’d left school to drop the contract off at the realtor’s. Sunday afternoon she had read the document over and agreed with Spike that it was a good deal. Not like they’d be homeless if they sold the house before finding a new place.
Well, technically homeless, in the sense that they wouldn’t have a home anymore, but not in the living-on-the-streets sense of the word. Willow shook her head at her own internal babbling. After signing the contract in front of the realtor and taking her copy, she went to a store a couple of buildings down from the realtor’s office. She’d decided to get those phones so Spike could call her whenever he needed something. Or just to hear her voice, she smiled. Maybe she’d be the one using the phone to call him!

She grabbed her book bag and the bag that held the two phones, and clambered down out of the Expedition. She really had to talk Spike into getting something smaller. What was it with guys and big vehicles? Not like Spike needed the extra manliness, she grinned, as she walked up to the front porch.

Willow entered the house quietly, and was glad she had, when she found Spike sacked out on the couch. He must have fallen asleep after watching one of his programs. As silently as possible, she set her bags down and tiptoed into the living room. She slid an empty mug out of the way and sat down on the coffee table to watch Spike sleep. He looked so...innocent in sleep. Willow reached out to brush a lock of hair off of his forehead, and screamed when Spike woke up and clamped his fingers around her wrist.

"Sorry," Spike loosened his grip and pulled Willow onto the couch with him. "You startled me. Didn’t hear you come in."

"That’s alright," Willow said, cuddling against Spike as her heart rate slowed to normal. Well, as normal as it ever got around Spike.

"You’re home early," Spike commented, has hands absently running up and down Willow’s back.

"Yeah, dropped the contract off at the realtor’s office this afternoon," she reminded him.

"Ah, right. How’d that go?" he asked, knowing she was still worried about selling the house before finding another.

"Okay," she said. "It went okay."

"Good," Spike said, closing his eyes.

"I got you something," Willow said. "Well, us."

"What?" Spike asked. "More silk panties? Another set of cuffs?" he teased.

"No!" Willow blushed, lightly slapping his arm. "Something useful."

"Those’re useful. In fact, they get used a lot." Willow couldn’t see Spike’s face from where she lay, but she could tell by the tone of his voice that he was smirking.

"Very funny," she huffed in mock anger. "Fine, I’ll take it back."

"Oh, no you won’t!" Spike tickled her. "Where’s my prezzie?"

Willow giggled and tried to get away from Spike’s skillful and determined fingers. "Alright!" she finally cried. "Stop! They’re in the foyer!"

Spike immediately stopped tickling her and sat up. Willow held on for dear life as her seat shifted beneath her. Spike grabbed hold of Willow and stood up, carrying her into the foyer. "What, this?" he asked, bending down to pick up the shopping bag.

"Yep," Willow nodded.

Spike carried her back into the living room and sat on the couch, placing Willow in his lap and the bag he carried on hers. "Show me," he ordered.

"Alright," she pulled one of the boxes out of the bag and removed the top, showing him the mobile phone nestled inside.

"A telephone?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah," she pulled it out of the box and set the box aside. "They’re already programmed. You just push this button and you can talk to me. Or I can talk to you. And if I’m in class, you can leave me a text message by typing in what you wanted to say," Willow was leaning over the phone showing Spike how to use it. "I mean, I know it’s not the same as being together, but I thought it would be, you know, next best, or something," she trailed off. "You don’t like it."

"No," Spike covered her hand, "I do. Nothing will ever be as good as having you here, Red. But knowing that you...cared enough to try and find a way...well, that means more than anything."

Willow smiled shyly. "Really?"

"Really," Spike nodded.

"Let’s try ‘em out!" Willow handed him the telephone she held and reached into the bag for the other box.

***

The next week was busy, and Willow and Spike barely had a moment to themselves. In addition to school and their normal research sessions, Buffy had come across a demon Tuesday night on patrol that Giles needed Willow to look up on the computer, since he hadn’t found anything in his books. So Wednesday was another long and tiring night of research. When they’d finally found the information required to identify the demon and determine how to kill it, Buffy had gone off to see if she could find it.

Wesley had called with disturbing information. A source he was hoping to use to assist him in rewriting the spell didn’t pan out, so Willow and Spike were both depressed about how long it was taking to revise the restoration spell. Nor had they heard anything about Angel’s progress on Spike’s accounts. And none of the listings the realtor called them with seemed right, so they didn’t even bother going to look at them.

They were glad when Friday finally rolled around. That night, they were out only long enough for Willow to get some take-out and for Spike to feed. The cupboards were nearly bare because Willow hadn’t had time to stop at the grocery store that week. Since there was just the two of them, and she was usually the only one eating - except for the snacks that Spike was always devouring - they didn’t keep much on hand.

When they got home, they watched an old black & white move on AMC, ‘The Maltese Falcon’, while Willow ate her sandwich and Spike stole her fries, and then went to bed. Willow woke the next morning feeling not at all refreshed. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to fall back to sleep. She didn’t want to wake Spike, so she got up.

Wandering through the house, Willow looked at the photos and knickknacks. She should really start thinking about packing some of this stuff up to be sent to her parents. Most of the stuff was staying, the furniture, bedding, dishes. But the pictures, books, doodads, and clothes all had to be packed up and stored, shipped, or given away. Willow tried to imagine the look on her mother’s face when she found out her blue silk had been given to the local goodwill.

That made her smile. Probably the first thing she should do was to find out what her parents wanted to keep. She set up her laptop, and then peeked into her father’s office to see if he had left anything behind that he might want. The shelves were all empty, as were the desk drawers and both file cabinets. He’d been pretty thorough with the important stuff, she thought sadly.

Well, she straightened her shoulders, one room she didn’t have to worry about packing up. She went back to the computer and typed an e-mail to her parents, telling them that she’d sold the house and asking them if they wanted any of the personal effects they’d left behind. After sending the message, she leaned back on the couch to think. They’d need boxes.

She got the phone book out and called a local moving company. They sold boxes in every shape and size, she was told. Willow wrote a note for Spike, grabbed her jacket, zipped her ID and check book into her pocket, and then headed for the warehouse that the moving company worked out of.

On the way to the office, she passed a huge sign announcing construction under the ‘Sunnydale Beautification and Revitalization Program’. She wondered if any of those buildings were the one Xander was working on. At the moving company’s office, the man on weekend duty, Gary, an elderly man with thinning gray hair, showed Willow the types of boxes they had available.

Willow purchased a stack of the large (for clothes), medium (for books), and small (for figurines and other breakables) boxes, as well as several rolls of tape and some markers. After paying him with a check, Gary helped Willow load the flat boxes into the back of the Expedition. On the way home, not because she was feeling particularly industrious, but because she was out and knew that if she went back to the house first, she’d never want to leave again, Willow stopped at the local grocery store for staples (milk, eggs, bread, fruit), sandwich meat, and snacks (chips, cookies, soda). For a vampire, Spike sure liked human food. She stowed her purchases in the back seat and headed home.

The house was silent when Willow got home, so she assumed that Spike was still sleeping. She blocked the door so it would stay open, and then carried the groceries and boxes into the house. After stacking the boxes in the hallway, Willow lugged the grocery bags to the kitchen and emptied them.

When Spike woke up several hours later, he found Willow in the living room talking to herself. All of the family photos had been removed from the walls and tabletops, books no longer filled the bookshelves, and there was not a single crystal figurine in sight.

"What’s up, luv?" Spike asked, brushing one hand through his mussed hair.

"Ahh!" Willow screamed as Spike startled her, the marker she held in her hand flying across the room. "Spike!" she yelled at him, her hand clutching her chest in case her pounding heart tried to break free. "You scared me!"

"I can see that," Spike smirked, and then breathed deeply. "Smells delicious. What’re you doing?" he asked as he walked around the room, looking into the boxes scattered about.

"Packing," Willow said. "Here," she tossed the roll of tape she picked up on her way to retrieve the marker at him, "you can help."

Spike caught the tape out of the air and looked at it suspiciously. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Tape the boxes closed," Willow replied, "and stack them over there," she pointed to a spot along the wall, and then disappeared into the hallway. Moments later she returned, her arms loaded with photos she’d taken off of the walls. She added them to the picture box, placing a piece of paper toweling between them, and then taped it shut.

"What’s next?" Spike asked. Willow glanced over at him, and frowned.

"I was going to do my parent’s room next," she said. "But I think I deserve a break first. What do you think? I bought you some Oreo cookies," she tried to bribe him, not that it would take much.

"You went grocery shopping, too?" he asked.

"Yeah," Willow said, as she walked out of the room. "Picked up the boxes and the groceries all in one shot."

Spike followed her. "Did you get the cereal kind?"

"No," Willow’s voice drifted back. "I got the mini ones, and the kind with coffee filling, ‘cause nobody lets me have any real coffee."

***

Willow packed up her parent’s room later that afternoon. There wasn’t much left, so it wasn’t difficult. She trashed all of the opened make-up, perfume, shampoo, and lotion she found, folded clothes into ‘his’ and ‘her’ boxes, and packed up the photos and knickknacks. Spike taped the boxes shut and carried them downstairs to be stacked with the others after Willow had marked their contents.

When they were done, she walked through the house again. There was nothing in the guest room that needed to be packed. The only thing left was her bedroom and the bathroom, which she would worry about closer to the time they had to move, and the kitchen cupboards. Oh! She also still had stuff at the dorm. She’d have to remember to get the rest of her clothes from there, too.

"You alright, Red?" Spike slipped up behind her and massaged her shoulders.

"Yeah," she tipped her head and smiled back at him. "Just thinking about what else needs to be packed. This selling the house lock, stock, and barrel works out great when it comes time to pack," she smiled.

"I know just what you need," Spike whispered in her ear.

"Really?" Willow’s smile turned into a grin.

"Not that! Geez, Red," he teased, "that all you think about? I mean, I am a handsome bloke an’ all," he continued, as he led her to the bathroom, "but I thought you loved me for my mind."

"Every deviant bit of it, Spike," Willow teased, and then looked forward to where he had directed her. While she had been wandering the house, Spike had drawn her a bubble bath and lit candles to light the bathroom. "Oh, Spike," she breathed, swallowing hard.

"Come on," he tugged on the hem of her dusty sweatshirt and Willow lifted her arms so he could pull it over her head. When Willow was naked, Spike helped her step into the bathtub and held her hand as she sank below the bubbles.

"This feels wonderful," she moaned, smiling up at him. "Joining me?" she asked.

"Wasn’t sure. Thought you might wanna just relax..."

"I relax better with you," Willow said.

Spike was naked and stepping into the tub to lower himself behind her before Willow knew what had happened. She wondered if it was vampiric speed or if she’d blacked out for a minute. Either way, she was in heaven. After Spike was settled, she shifted back and leaned against his chest.

"This is good, Spike. Thank you," Willow said.

"Welcome, luv," Spike replied. He massaged as much of her shoulders, neck, and arms as he could reach, and felt the tension drain out of her. He held her until she fell asleep, refusing to move until the water started to get cold.

When he shifted, Willow woke enough to sit up so Spike could get out. He helped her out, wrapped a towel around her, and carried her to the bedroom. He laid her on the bed, climbed in beside her, and pulled the blankets up over them. He held her until she was in a deep sleep, staring at her so he could memorize her features, running his fingers through her hair and brushing it away from her face.

After an hour, Spike kissed her forehead and climbed out of bed. He retrieved their clothes from the bathroom, blew out the candles and emptied the tub. He brought Willow’s clothes into the bedroom and tossed them in the hamper, then pulled his own back on. He needed to feed.

He wrote Willow a note in case she woke up while he was gone, and then headed for the door, grabbing his duster on the way out. He lit a cigarette as he walked down the sidewalk. He’d contemplated taking the Expedition so he could get back sooner, but needed the exercise and fresh air, he snorted, after being cooped up all day.

It felt like they’d been cooped up all bloody week. No time to relax until tonight, and then Willow had been too tired to do anything *but* relax. They needed some alone-time, but she also needed some friends-time. Spike pulled out the telephone he carried everywhere now, and dialed.

The phone was answered and dropped on the other end. "Yeah, hello?"

"Harris? You sleeping?" Spike asked.

"Oh, god, yeah. What time is it?" Xander asked.

"Don’t know. No watch," Spike said.

"Ugh! It’s only eight-thirty!" Xander said. "It feels like it should be two in the morning. God, what a week. Why are you calling, Fang? Is something wrong?"

"Yeah, but not like you think," he replied. "Willow’s been overworked this week and I think she needs a, uh, what do you call it, movie night, or whatever," he said.

"You want to do a movie night? Tonight?" Xander squealed.

"No, moron," Spike replied, taking a drag on his cigarette as he strode down the sidewalk. "Tomorrow afternoon, or early evening, or whatever works for you. Or just stop by for a visit; don’t even have to bring a soddin’ movie."

A car-full of girls drove past Spike and beeped the horn. "Where are you?" Xander asked.

"Heading downtown," Spike said.

"Where’s Willow?"

"Sleeping. She’s been packing all day, on top of everything else she did all week," Spike explained.

"Alright," Xander agreed. "We’ll stop over sometime tomorrow. I’ll call to confirm movie or not, though, okay?"

"Right," Spike said, and paused. "Thanks," he hung up before Xander could reply.

Now to find someone to eat, he thought. Maybe he should look into having Willy make regular deliveries of human blood, or maybe from the blood bank. Not as good as fresh, but better than pig’s. And at least then he wouldn’t have to go out to feed every buggered night. He could be home in bed with Willow right now.

Spike searched the people crowding the sidewalk when he reached downtown until he found a likely candidate. A couple had just exited a restaurant, and he followed them, making sure it wasn’t an Italian restaurant first.

***

An hour later, Spike emerged from the alley. There was blood on his lip where he’d been cut and a bruise forming on his cheek. He lit a cigarette and took a long drag, drawing the smoke into his lungs, and then blowing it out, forming rings and watching them float away.

"Spike! What are you doing here?"

Spike stiffened, felt his muscles tense, and forced himself to relax. He slowly turned to face the woman behind him. "Slayer," he growled.

~Part: 48~

An hour later, Spike emerged from the alley. There was blood on his lip where he’d been cut, and a bruise forming on his cheek. He lit a cigarette and took a long drag, drawing the smoke into his lungs, and then blowing it out, forming rings and watching them float away.

"Spike! What are *you* doing here?" The female voice sounded surprised, and not in a good way.

Spike stiffened, felt his muscles tense, and forced himself to relax. He slowly turned to face the woman behind him. "Slayer," he growled.

"What are you *doing* here?" Buffy asked again, angrily. "And is that *blood* on your lip?"

Spike stared into Buffy’s eyes and deliberately wiped the pad of his thumb across his lip, and then stared thoughtfully at the red stain. He slowly lifted his thumb to his mouth and licked the tip. "Yep, blood," he said, and then turned to walk away.

Buffy grabbed his shoulder and swung him around. "How did you get blood on your lip, Spike?" she asked accusingly.

Hell spawn, he hated this bitch! He’d known the day would come when he would run into her when he was out feeding. Thank hell she hadn’t shown up an hour earlier, he thought. Willow understood his need to feed, to hunt; his need for fresh human blood. For her though, he didn’t kill his...meals. But he might make an exception for this trollop.

"Well, it was sorta like this," Spike replied, and then swung, punching Buffy in the lip and drawing blood. "Oh, no, it was *exactly* like that," he said with a smirk, and then turned to walk away.

"You are nothing but *garbage*," Buffy hissed, as she swiped the back of her hand over her bleeding lip. "You are a murdering demon, and one day, you will slip up, and I will be there to see it happen. And when that day comes, I will happily stake you," she threatened.

"You can try," Spike turned back and taunted her. "But you’ll never succeed, because I have what you need."

"You have *nothing* I need," Buffy retorted. She stood with her shoulders stiff, her hands clenched at her sides.

"Wrong, Slayer. I have Willow." Spike chortled gleefully as Buffy’s face paled. "Know what’s kept you alive so long, *Slayer*? Your friends," Spike informed her happily, tilting his head as he continued to smoke his cigarette. "Where are they now?" He spread his arms wide and turned in a circle.

"Got any friends left?" he asked. "Oh, no, you would have lost them the day you tried to stake me in the back when you thought I couldn’t defend myself!" Yeah, that still rankled. Bitch.

"You’re a monster," Buffy insisted, lifting a finger to point at him. "Without that chip, you are nothing but an evil, blood-sucking fiend."

"I need blood to *live*!" Spike yelled at her. "Nobody calls you evil when you kill the poor, defenseless calf so you can have veal."

"That’s different," Buffy grumbled.

"And why’s that?" Spike asked. "Because you think humans are more intelligent? Are higher on the food chain? Sucks to find out you’re *part* of the food chain, now doesn’t it?"

Buffy’s face mottled, and she began to shake. Spike watched joyfully as she struggled to say something. When she didn’t speak, Spike continued.

"And I am just as intelligent as you are. Actually," he said, looking her over, "probably more. Mindless violence has never been my thing. I’m a planner."

Buffy snorted. "St. Vigeous?" she reminded him.

"Hey! I had a *good* plan," he said, pointing his nearly burnt out cigarette at her. "Was just impatient, is all."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "And got your ass kicked."

"Knock it off!" Spike growled. Stupid bint. Dredging up ancient history whenever it suited her purpose!

"Or what?" It was Buffy’s turn to taunt the blond vampire.

Spike dropped his cigarette to the ground, took a step towards Buffy, and let loose with an upper cut. Buffy grabbed his hand in hers before it could connect, and punched him with her free hand.

"Didn’t think that move out, did you?" she mocked, as she landed another punch.

Spike growled, and pulled her towards him with the hand she still held, and then head butted her. She let go of his hand and staggered back.

"Bitch," he hissed, and kicked her in the stomach, sending her flying.

"Vampire," Buffy retorted, as she rolled to her knees and stood.

"Ouch! Is that how you talked to your precious Angel?" Spike baited her, as he clenched and unclenched his fists, preparing to continue the fight.

"You leave Angel out of this!" Buffy shouted.

"Why?" Spike asked. "He’s a vampire. A demon. It was okay to socialize, even sleep, with him. Oh, wait," he pretended to think, "that did turn out badly, didn’t it?"

"Asshole!" Buffy punched Spike’s stomach and face in quick succession. "Angel had a soul!" she yelled, as she rained more punches on him.

"Not after you got done with him," Spike gibed, and then landed a couple of punches of his own.

"You’re just going to *hurt* her!" Buffy shouted, as she struggled to break through Spike’s defenses.

"I would *never* hurt her," Spike growled. "I *love* her!" He punctuated that with a punch to Buffy’s jaw that sent her spinning. She landed sprawled on her backside in the filthy alley.

"You *can’t* love her!" Buffy screamed. "You don’t have a *soul*!"

"Ahh." Spike nodded in understanding. "There’s the rub. Angel couldn’t love you without a soul, so I can’t love Red."

Buffy just looked up at him with tears streaming down her face. He squatted before her.

"Angelus - the Angelus you knew - was a pillock, luv. A right bloody bastard. I’m nothing like him. The books say I don’t have a soul, and maybe that’s true. But I love Willow. And I will never hurt her. You now," he pointed at Buffy, still silent except for hitching breaths, "are a different story. If you continue to hurt Willow like you have been, I *will* kill you. As much as I wish you’d take a flyin’ leap, Willow needs you. She wants you in her life. But don’t get all excited blondie, ‘cause it won’t be at my expense. You make her choose between us, you’ll be the loser."

Spike wanted to tell Buffy that Willow loved him enough to let him turn her, but he knew that would be causing trouble he didn’t need right then. See? Not stupid. He stood and looked down at Buffy. She made a sad picture. It was lovely. Too bad he couldn’t have had her at his mercy like this before he fell in love with Willow. He could almost taste her blood on his tongue.

He shook himself, pulled out his pack of cigarettes and tapped one into his hand, and then stuck the cigarette between his lips as he put the pack away and drew out his lighter. He lit the cigarette, and took a deep drag, closing his eyes in ecstasy as the smoke filled his lungs. He exhaled, and said, "You might want to take a shower. And stay away from your mum until that shiner heals."

Spike turned on his heels and walked away. That had been fun! He increased his speed. He was all juiced up after that bit of violence, and just wanted to get home to Red.

***

Freshly showered to remove any blood and dust from the night’s activities, Spike slipped into bed with Willow. She was sleeping soundly, curled up on her side. Spike moved up behind her and spooned her. He ran his hand down her arm and over her hip. She was so soft and warm, and she smelled so good. Vanilla and cinnamon. He lowered his head and placed his lips on her shoulder, kissing her lightly.

She tasted good, too, he thought, as he licked her shoulder, letting his hand move between them to cup her buttock, and then slide down her thigh. He sucked on her shoulder and let his hand stray to the front of her leg. He drew it up her thigh and over her belly, until he was cupping her breast. Small and firm, fitting just right in the palm of his hand, he thought.

"Spike?" Willow mumbled, rousing slightly, and then moaning as he pinched her nipple.

"You awake, luv?" he asked, pressing his erection against her bum as he rolled her nipple between finger and thumb. Christ, he was horny. Nothing like a good shag after a spot of violence.

"Mmm," Willow replied. "You been fighting again?" she asked sleepily.

"Just a little," Spike fibbed, lifting his hand to her chin and turning her head so he could capture her lips. His tongue urged her lips apart and invaded the warm recesses of her mouth as his fingers moved to her other breast. Oh, yeah, she tasted good, he thought again.

He lifted his head to let her breathe, and Willow gasped, "Feels like more than just a little," as she rubbed her bum against his hard flesh.

Spike groaned, and rolled Willow onto her back. He lowered his face to hers, intending to kiss her again, when she gasped once more, and stopped him.

"Spike, your face!" she cried. "What happened?"

"Just a nice spot of violence, luv," he said. "Nothing to worry about."

"Oh, Spike," she commiserated, and pulled his face down. She kissed the cut on his lip and he grunted in pain. "I’m sorry! Did that hurt?" she asked fearfully.

"Yes," Spike hissed. "Do it again." He lowered his head and crushed his lips to hers. They kissed, a tangle of lips, and tongue, and teeth that drew blood. Spike lifted his head and licked at the cut on his lip. Willow watched him, and then darted her tongue out to lick at the blood staining her own lips. Spike groaned. He needed her. Badly.

He shifted on the bed, and lowered his head to her breast, pulling the nipple between his lips, rolling it between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, and then grazing it gently with his teeth before suckling on it. As he worried her nipple, Spike slid one hand down her body. He dragged his fingers through her curls, and then parted them to find the hidden flesh.

Spike slipped his fingers between her slick folds, and Willow moaned. He slowly slid one finger inside her, and she groaned, spreading her thighs for him as her hands moved to tangle in his hair. Spike moved his attentions to her other breast as he worked his finger inside her, feeling the warm moisture that seeped from her body and lubricated her passage for him.

He withdrew his finger, placed two against her, and carefully worked them inside her. Willow lifted her hips to meet his advance, and pushed on his head. Spike laughed joyously.

"Impatient, Red?" he asked with a smirk.

"Just...ah, Goddess...just patient *enough*!" she groaned, as he curled his fingers into her. "Stop...bloody...teasing!" she demanded breathlessly.

Spike laughed again, and lowered his head to her belly. He licked and sucked on the sensitive flesh, and then dipped his tongue into her navel, as his thumb found the sensitive nub between her thighs. Willow’s hips bucked as Spike simultaneously pressed her clit with his thumb and the nerves inside her with his fingers.

"Spike, Spike!" Willow cried out, tightening her grip on his hair.

The sound of Willow’s moans and the scent of her arousal were too much for Spike. He slid further down on the bed and tongued her clit.

"Goddess, Spike!" Willow called out, spreading her thighs further, and pressing his head against her.

Spike laved her clit and fingered her weeping entrance, as he rubbed his own straining erection on the mattress. Bloody hell, he thought. She smelled, and felt, and tasted so bleedin’ wonderful. And the sound of his name on her lips only added fuel to the fire raging through his veins. He sucked on her clit, and then gently bit down, and Willow screamed his name as she came.

Spike lowered his mouth to her slit, and lapped at the juices that streamed from her, as Willow’s orgasm wracked her body. Her internal muscles closed around his fingers, and Spike continued to press against the bundle of nerves, prolonging her release. When Willow was lying limp beneath him, Spike gently withdrew his fingers and rose to his knees. He wiped his fingers on his cock, coating it with her essence.

He placed the tip of his oozing sex at her entrance. With a slight shift of his hips, the head slipped between her folds. Spike pushed Willow’s legs up, opening her wide, and thrust into her. With one push, he fully seated himself inside her, and they both moaned as he filled her.

"You feel so good, baby," Spike groaned, as he moved his hips, pumped his hard flesh into her, watching as his shaft, now glistening with her juices, slid in and out of her body. He looked into her lust-glazed eyes and moaned as she licked her lips.

"Spike." She reached out for him, and Spike lowered himself over her, her legs held back by his forearms. Willow gripped his shoulders, and then ran one hand into his hair, and the other down his back, as she kissed him. "Love you, Spike," she whispered against his lips.

"Love you, too, Red," he panted unnecessarily, nipping at her lips.

"You feel so good inside me," Willow said. "Make me come again," she pleaded.

"Oh, fuck, Willow," Spike cried, as he thrust faster, harder, deeper, shoving her up the bed.

Willow let go of Spike and stretched her arms above her head. Placing her hands against the headboard and holding on, she pushed down onto him. His next thrust sent Spike even deeper, and Willow cried out as he slammed into her cervix.

"Spike, please..."

Spike changed his angle, and rammed the head of his cock into Willow’s pleasure spot. He supported himself on one hand and reached for her clit with the other. Already stimulated, it didn’t take long to bring Willow to the edge, and send her tumbling over once again.

Spike fought with his own erection, refusing to allow himself to come despite the grip of her muscles around him. As soon as her climax abated, Spike carefully pulled out of her, and urged her onto her knees. Willow protested having to move her tired muscles, even as she got into position.

As soon as she was ready, Spike entered her from behind. She was so wet; he slid in without any trouble at all, despite the tight sheath this position formed around him. He grasped her hips and pumped into her, feeling his balls slap against the back of her thighs. His tight grip on her bum spread her cheeks, and Spike found himself mesmerized by the puckered opening he’d revealed.

He imagined sliding his fingers into her, stretching her, and then driving his cock into the virgin hole, feeling her hot and tight around him. He ran his thumb over the entrance, and felt his balls tighten. Almost in a trance, Spike pressed his thumb against her, not breaching the hole, but testing it.

"Spike, what...oh, Goddess!" Willow cried out, as Spike reached his other hand beneath her and rolled her swollen clit between thumb and finger. Spike felt his balls rise, but didn’t want to come yet. He reached between Willow’s thighs and wet his finger, and then placed it against the tight hole, and pushed.

He breached the hole to his first knuckle, the ring of muscle tight around his finger, and Willow squirmed beneath him. He was filled with lust and need. He leaned forward, a change in position that had Willow crying out, as he once more stimulated her nerves. Spike morphed, and felt his fangs elongate. He licked them, and then lowered his face to Willow’s shoulder.

He sank his fangs into her as he wiggled the finger filling her anus and pinched her clit. As Spike drew on her blood, Willow screamed, and came again. This time, Spike didn’t hold back. Her internal muscles clenched around him, and he lifted his head from her back, roaring as he exploded inside her.

***

Spike had turned Willow to her back and was licking their combined releases from her, sliding his fingers into her, and lapping at her swollen nub when he felt Willow regain consciousness. With an evil grin, he coated his tongue, pressed her legs apart and back, and licked at the puckered hole he’d become infatuated with.

"Spike!" she hissed, and then keened as his tongue breached the ring of muscle.

Spike stopped long enough to say, "Hold your legs," and then returned to tongue-fucking her anus.

"What?" Willow moaned, and then Spike let go of one leg so his hand was free to slip between her thighs, his fingers between her now-sopping folds. "Oh!" Willow grabbed her legs.

Spike tongued her ass and fingered her slit, his thumb nail grazing her sensitive nub, until he could hold out no longer. He climbed to his knees and drove his red and weeping cock into Willow’s drenched hole.

"I thought...I thought you said...oh, Goddess...just a *little* fighting?" Willow asked breathlessly, as Spike knelt between her legs, his hands on her hips to raise her bum as he thrust into her.

Spike smirked at her. "I lied."

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