Pairing: Willow/Spike (as it should be)
Spoilers: Nothing really specific, but through season 7 ‘Showtime’ to be safe.
Summary: Spike’s t-shirt is missing.
Notes: Fluff, the whole fluff, and nothing but the fluff. ** indicate emphasis. This is in response to a discussion on wackywitch about Spike’s naked chest, and my take on one reason we see him without his t-shirt so often!! Which can only be a good thing!
Feedback: It’s ALL about the feedback (and naked Spike)! Don’t make me beg, it’s not pretty.
E-mail: spikedluv@midtel.net
Distribution: The Seduction of Spike, Soulmates, Willow’s Lil’ Secret, Shades of Gray, The BatPack Archives, Wacky Witch Willow, Rapture, and Shippers United. If anyone else wants it, please ask.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, just borrowing them for awhile. Everything belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kuzui Enterprises, Grr Argh, the WB, UPN and whomever else they really belong to, although I wouldn’t mind having a Spike of my own. Who would? The story is mine, though.
Dedication: SiN, because she started this, Feen, because she wants naked Spike, er, naked Spike *chest*, as much as I do, and Tammy, because I know she does too!! And because it was her 20th Anniversary yesterday and we missed her on the lists.
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"Where is my bloody t-shirt?" Spike howled, as he slammed open the door from the basement and hurtled into the kitchen, his unnecessary breath coming in angry pants.
Willow and the three potentials were standing around the island making sandwiches. She stared at Spike, her eyes inevitably drawn to his heaving chest. Naked Spike chest! Her heart began to beat erratically in her own chest. And, wow, look at those arms!
"Red?" Spike’s growl pulled her attention away from his naked chest, and she blushed.
"Yes, Spike?" she asked, her voice quavering. She hoped Spike thought it was with fear, rather than the desire she suddenly felt coursing through her body.
"Where...is...my...bloody...t-shirt?" he repeated the question.
"Uh, th-the one from last night?" she asked nervously. "I-it got covered with, uh, demon goo. Remember? We had to wash it."
"I know that, witch," he ground out between clenched teeth. "I checked the laundry. It’s not there."
"Well, of course it’s there!" Willow huffed. "You just didn’t look carefully enough. Let me look!" Willow left the three potentials staring at Spike’s naked chest, their mouths agape, and stomped over to the basement. "Are you going to let me pass?" she asked, and shivered. She was standing close enough to touch him now. If she wanted. Which she didn’t.
Spike stepped aside, and Willow skipped down the basement stairs. Well, she wanted to skip, but her knees were kinda weak, so she held onto the railing really tightly and practically staggered down the stairs, and then over to the washing machine and dryer, leaning on them for support.
She checked the washing machine first, to make sure it hadn’t been left in the bin when the clothes were transferred to the dryer. Empty. She opened the dryer and began to pull the clothes out, one at a time. When all of the clothes were lying on the top of the dryer, Willow turned to look at Spike.
"It’s not there," she said.
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Know that, witch."
"Uh, maybe it fell on the floor," she searched her mind for anything that could have happened to the t-shirt, no matter how unlikely. "Did you look behind them?" She indicated the washer and dryer.
"Yes," Spike said. "I’ve checked everywhere."
"Maybe we left it in the bathroom and forgot to throw it in!" Willow said hopefully. "I’ll just go look."
Willow stumbled up the stairs to the bathroom Spike had cleaned up in the night before. No t-shirt. Spike was going to be really mad if they lost his t-shirt, Willow worried. She wracked her brain to think of where she might be able to borrow a t-shirt for him. Nothing any of the girls had would be appropriate. She didn’t think Giles had any t-shirts, and Xander would probably soak his in holy water before handing it over for Spike to borrow.
Maybe he could wear a jacket until they found him a shirt. Willow opened the coat closet and went through the jackets hanging there. Way in the back, she found Spike’s leather duster. Her eyes got big and she pulled it out. It was covered with a dry cleaner’s bag, and Willow lifted it. She held the coat to her face and breathed in deeply. She smelled leather, and dry cleaning chemicals. But under it all, it still smelled like Spike.
She carried the duster down cellar with her. She dreaded having to tell Spike that she couldn’t find his t-shirt, but maybe he’d be happy to see the duster again.
"Spike?" she began tentatively.
"Yeah?" he grunted.
"I, um, couldn’t find your t-shirt." At Spike’s growl of disapproval, she hurried on. "But I’ll get you another one! In the meantime, I found this." She held the duster out. "Maybe you could just wear this until..."
Spike stared at the duster a moment before grabbing it out of her hand and swinging it around his shoulders.
"Ow," Willow muttered, and then choked. Spike in leather with a still-visible bare chest...gasp! Oh, this was bad. She barely managed to quash the urge to reach out and touch him. "Maybe we should ask the others if they’ve seen your shirt," she suggested. "And we should do that now."
Willow turned and ran up the stairs. She gathered everyone in the living room and told them that Spike’s t-shirt was missing, then asked if anyone had seen it since last night. No one had, but Dawn was jumping with excitement.
"Yes, Dawnie?" Willow asked with a smile.
"I was reading one of Giles’ demonology texts, and there was this section on a demon who steals clothes," Dawn said excitedly. "Let me see if I can find it again!" She jumped up off of the couch and went into the dining room, where books were spread out over the table. She eventually found the book she wanted, and flipped through the pages.
"Ha, got it," she said, and then began to read the passage to herself. "Okay, this is weird. It says here that someone would have to make a wish for the demon to appear and steal a certain item of clothing." She looked up at the group, her eyes landing on Willow.
"I did not do that!" Willow cried, and then blushed as everyone stared at her. "Uh, what I meant to say was, who would do that? Must not be that demon." She took the book out of Dawn’s hands, closed it, and threw it under the table.
"So, nobody’s seen Spike’s shirt, then?" she asked.
***
After everyone had eaten and settled down for the night, either with a text in hand, or the remote, Willow went in search of Spike. He was lounging on the cot in the basement, sans t-shirt, but still wearing his duster.
"Hi." Willow said, giving a little wave. Spike just looked at her, eyes narrowed a bit. "Sorry we couldn’t find your t-shirt. I really will get you another one," she babbled. "But, hey, that’s a good look for you!" She indicated the chest-baring duster.
"Is it?" he asked.
"Um, yeah, I mean, it’s all, uh, very manly," she finished lamely.
"Like it, do you?" Spike asked.
"Oh, yeah!" Willow moaned, and then tried to cover. "I mean, it’s alright."
Spike smirked at her, and then gracefully stood. He moved across the room towards her, all slinky, like a panther. Willow took an involuntary step back. Spike kept coming. He took her hand and placed it on his bare chest. Willow closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip to keep from moaning, as her fingers convulsed on his chest.
"You smell good," Spike said, his voice sultry.
"Vanilla," Willow whimpered.
"Hmm," Spike murmured. He breathed deeply. "Nope, not vanilla."
Willow’s eyes shot open. Spike was staring at her, his blue eyes nearly black. He licked his lips, and Willow shuddered. She felt her body respond to Spike’s nearness, the sound of his voice, the smirk, his naked chest. She dug her nails into him, and Spike groaned.
"Do that again," he whispered harshly.
Willow clenched her thighs together as a tingle shot straight to her core.
"Oh, yeah," Spike groaned, his nostrils flaring. "That’s the scent I love."
Willow’s eyes got big, and a deep flush suffused her pale skin, as she realized that Spike could smell her arousal. Before she could think on it too much, Spike pulled her against him, trapping her hand between them, and crushed his lips to hers.
Willow eagerly parted her lips as Spike’s tongue sought entry to her mouth. She slipped her free hand beneath Spike’s duster and around his back. With fingers splayed, palm flat, she ran her hand over his back, feeling his soft, smooth skin, as his muscles bunched at her touch.
Spike picked her up, and the next thing she knew she was flat on her back on the cot. Spike was between her legs, grinding his pelvis into her, and her legs were wrapped around his waist beneath the duster.
"Goddess, Spike," she moaned, as his erection pressed against her in all the right places.
Suddenly she felt uncomfortable, and even Spike’s kiss, his touch, couldn’t distract her from the lumpy mattress.
"Wait, Spike..."
"No," he mumbled, as he continued to kiss her. "No more waiting."
"No, it’s just... Oh!" she cried, as Spike slipped his hand beneath her shirt. It was no use. "Spike!" she yelled, and he froze. "The mattress is all lumpy."
Willow narrowed her eyes at Spike’s guilty look.
"Let’s just move over here," Spike said, picking Willow up and moving her to another spot on the cot. He tried to resume kissing her, but Willow knew something was up. Spike was trying to hide something. With a quick move, Willow slithered out from beneath Spike, lifted up the corner of the mattress and pulled out...Spike’s black t-shirt.
She narrowed her own eyes and looked at Spike with a raised eyebrow that clearly said, ‘What is this?’.
"Oh, well, er, thank hell you found that!" Spike said. "That was my favorite t-shirt."
Willow crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a look. She wasn’t buying that. Spike grabbed the t-shirt out of her hand and tossed it on the floor.
"Can’t we get back to the shaggin?" he whined.
"We weren’t shagging," Willow said, refusing to give in.
"We were gonna," Spike replied.
"Did you hide that under there?" she asked archly.
"Maybe," Spike answered slyly.
"Why would you do that?" Willow yelled. "You had me worried that we lost your t-shirt and all so you could..." Willow trailed off as Spike took her hand and placed it back on his bare chest.
"Oh," she said breathlessly, placing both hands on his chest, and dragging them up to his shoulders, pushing the duster back. "You know," she muttered, "I was really afraid that damned demon had shown up and taken your shirt."
"Did," Spike grinned down at her. "I trapped it, forced it to tell me what it was here for, and then let it go."
"But the book said it won’t stop until it has what it came after!" Willow said.
"Gave it one of my old t-shirts. You know, the one I got stabbed in last week."
"Oh," Willow said. "Oh! You knew!" She slapped his shoulder.
"‘Course I knew, luv," Spike agreed, and then grinned. "Think I would have attempted this if I didn’t know? And tempt a stake to the heart? I don’t think so!"
"But if you could...you know!" Willow rolled her eyes.
"What?" Spike asked, and Willow frowned at him. "Oh, your scent?"
"Yes." Willow blushed.
"Doesn’t always mean anything more than you saw a pretty piece that struck your fancy. Wasn’t sure it was more than that. Until you summoned a demon to steal my clothes so you could see me naked." He leered at her.
"I did not...," she began. "It was just the t-shirt," she clarified, her hands still stroking his bare chest and shoulders. "I figured you slept in your jeans," she finally admitted, "and he’d wake you up trying to take those, too."
She slid her hands around to his back, and pulled him down to her for another kiss. She moaned into his mouth as he slipped one hand beneath her buttock and lifted her against him. Willow moved one hand down his back, and slipped it beneath the waistband of his jeans, cupping his buttock.
"You still have too many clothes on," she whispered.
The End