Author: Spikedluv
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Willow/Spike (as it should be)
Spoilers: Through end of season 4.
Summary: Spike and Willow come to an understanding. Willow's POV
Notes: Fluff, the whole fluff, and nothing but the fluff. * * indicate emphasis.
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: If anybody wants it, please take it. Just tell me where it goes so I can keep track...OK, so I can pull it up and just stare at it for a while!
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, just borrowing them for awhile. Everything belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kuzui Enterprises, Grr Argh, the WB, UPN and whoever else they really belong to, although I wouldn't mind having a Spike of my own. Who would?
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It had been two weeks since that night in Giles' apartment, the second time she and Spike had...you know...and since then Willow spent every night in Spike's bed, figuratively speaking, of course. Spike refused to go to her room in the dorm, claiming that she screamed too loud, so they went to her parents' house, which stood empty most of the time, or his crypt.
Oddly enough, Willow preferred...doing it...in Spike's crypt. She used to tell herself that she liked the crypt because it kept Spike out of the rest of her life, her *real* life, and reminded her who he was, because she mustn't forget, right? Nope, she couldn't let herself forget. Now she wasn't so sure. She wondered if it was because it made her feel closer to Spike, being in the place where he spent all of his time, where all of his things were. Although, she would never have told herself that. Not then.
However, there were occasions when they didn't wait until they got to his place, or hers. Willow remembered one night when Spike had taken her up against the wall in the courtyard outside Giles' apartment. Like every night since Spike joined them for research, he and Willow had bickered, pushing each other's buttons until Willow slammed her book down, grabbed her jacket and stormed out of the apartment.
Spike had been right behind her, throwing off some comment to the others about seeing her home safely. That was a laugh! If they only knew what he did to her before he saw her home! Anyway, on this night he had grabbed her arm and demanded to know `where in bloody hell' she thought she was going. Willow told him to go to hell. He'd laughed, shoved her up against the wall and said he was already there.
Willow had pounded on him with tiny fists, grunting with the effort as he easily pinned her to the wall with his body, his hands at her thighs hiking her skirt up. She was angry, and frustrated. She wanted to kill him, she wanted him inside her. She punched him even as his use of force turned her on, made her wet, made her knees weak.
Spike pushed her skirt up around her waist and she remembered that the stone wall was cold against her bare butt. He shoved her legs apart, ran his fingers through her already damp curls and smirked at her. He pulled his hand away from her and Willow moaned in protest, Spike's smirk grew.
There was no foreplay this night. He undid his jeans and pushed them down far enough to free himself, lifted her and lowered her onto him, sheathing him in her heat. Willow moaned as he filled her, buried her face in his neck, licking and sucking his skin into her mouth as he thrust into her, his hands gripping her butt, his pelvic bone slamming into her clit.
She remembered thinking that they couldn't do this here, someone would see them, Buffy would stake Spike. Not that she cared, except for the fact that she'd miss this, she told herself. She wouldn't miss him, he was a soulless killer, right? Evil. Even worse, he was mean and he lied. He was bad. When he wasn't being so dam...darn *good*!
"Spike," she moaned in his ear, then threw her head back. "Oh, goddess, Spi-ike!"
"Say it," he ordered.
"I hate *you*!" her voice rose on the last word as Spike slipped his hand between them and pressed on her clit. She came, her muscles milking his release and he moaned in her ear, "I know, baby." What was it that he knew, she wondered.
***
And that was their normal routine, argue until Willow was so mad she wanted to spit, then shag (sounded better than screw) until they couldn't move. Although, `normal' was a relative term, but, hey, this was the Hellmouth, what was normal? Then, two nights ago, Spike, dam...darn vampire, had altered their routine. They argued, like normal, and Spike had dragged her back to his crypt, like normal, but that's when things had changed.
They had entered the crypt and Spike closed the door. He let go of Willow's arm, took his duster off and threw it over the back of the lone chair, then pulled his t-shirt off and tossed it on the pile. He sat down on the comforter-covered tomb and removed his boots, then lay back with his arms folded under his head. Willow was still standing by the door, her brow wrinkled in confusion.
In the normal, there was that word again, course of events, Willow would already be half-naked, well on her way to her first orgasm of the night. She looked at Spike and he jerked his head, indicating that she should join him. She walked slowly to the tomb, kicked her shoes off and shrugged out of her jacket, then climbed up on the tomb to lie on her side next to Spike.
She wanted to touch him, but she was uncertain, she didn't understand the rules to this new game.
"Go ahead," Spike whispered as if he could read her mind and Willow reached her hand out tentatively to touch his chest. She ran her hand from one pectoral to the other, then down to his stomach, teasingly slipping her fingertips beneath his waistband. Spike sucked in an unnecessary breath and it was Willow's turn to smirk at him.
That night, for the first time, she realized now, they made love. Willow placed small kisses over his chest, licked and sucked on his nipples. She moved to his neck, licking, sucking, biting as her hand kneaded the flesh of his stomach and his buried itself in her hair.
She moved her attentions to the other side of his neck as she unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, slipping her hand inside to free his erection, wrapping her fingers around him, stroking the tip with her thumb.
Spike groaned, then tugged at the hem of her shirt. Willow obediently lifted her arms and he pulled it over her head, then lifted his head to suck an unfettered nipple into his mouth, his hands running over her back. After the night she hadn't worn any panties, she had stopped wearing any underclothes at all. She told herself that it was because he'd just rip them anyway, but she could admit now that she'd wanted as few clothes as possible between them.
"Spike," she moaned his name as heat slowly built between her legs. The slow pace was killing her. "Spike, *please*," she begged.
"Tell me what you want," he closed blunt teeth on a puckered nipple.
"Aaahh," she moaned. "You...I want you inside me," she closed her fingers in his hair and pulled. "Now."
Spike smirked. "Take off your skirt," he ordered. Willow put her hands behind her back and struggled to unzip the skirt as Spike continued to tease her breasts, sucking and pinching.
"Spi-ike," she moaned as she arched her back, frustrated that she couldn't get her skirt off fast enough. She felt his lips twist into another smirk as his hands moved down to help her.
He unzipped the skirt and pushed it down her hips. Willow kicked it off and turned to him, naked. He took her hand and pulled her to a position straddling his chest. With his hands on her butt he urged her forward and she crawled up his body until she straddled his face.
"Hold on," he warned before lifting his face to her. With a groan Willow leaned forward and gripped the edge of the tomb. Within moments she was moaning and moving on his face as he brought her to the edge. With a final swipe of his tongue along her slit he sucked her clit into his mouth and bit down. Willow screamed as her body tensed, spilling her juices.
Willow's body practically melted and Spike pulled her down to lay against him. He rolled to his side so they were face to face, lifted her leg over his hip and slid inside her. Willow's head fell back as he entered her. She loved this. Loved having him inside her. Her fingers clawed at his shoulders, his back. His hand slipped between them, stroking her clit. Willow cried out his name and came again, her clutching muscles taking Spike with her.
He wrapped his arms around her and she rested her head against his chest. They fell asleep, and for the first time Willow spent the entire night in Spike's arms.
She woke up the next morning confused and angry with herself. She jumped off of the tomb, threw her clothes on and raced out of the crypt without looking at Spike. He watched her go, saying nothing.
***
The next night, last night, research was cut short because Angel had called with a warning. A Polmchakra demon coming to Sunnydale to take out the Slayer in an age old rite of passage for it's species. They researched only long enough to determine that this rite of passage would take place on the full moon, the following night, where it might hide once it got to Sunnydale and how to kill it.
After research they all split up to recon, they were just supposed to look for the demon and report back in. They were divided up into groups to search the town, Buffy & Giles, Xander & Anya, and Willow & Spike.
During research and the first twenty minutes of their recon mission, Willow hadn't spoken to Spike, not even to pick a fight. She was still too confused about what had happened the night before. Finally Spike stopped walking. He leaned against a tree and lit a cigarette.
"What are you doing?" Willow turned to look at him.
He pointed to the area at his feet. "I want you on your knees," he said as he took a casual drag off of the cigarette and blew the smoke out.
"Fuck you!" Willow said and walked away. She would not be ordered around, forced to do things she didn't want to do, or things she told herself she didn't want to do. But that's exactly what she did want, and his tone alone made her wet. Then she pictured herself kneeling before him...doing what she imagined he wanted...the look on his face as he buried his hands in her hair.
Goddess, she hated, him Willow thought as she turned around to look at him. He was still leaning against the tree, holding the cigarette in one hand, staring at her. Willow started to walk back toward him. She should have just done it when he told her to, this walk back, with him watching her the whole way, knowing she would do what he said, was killing her.
She stopped in front of him, stared deeply into unreadable eyes, then sank to her knees. She reached out, hands trembling with fear and desire, to unbutton and unzip his jeans, missing the look of sadness that passed over his face. She freed him, wrapped her fingers around his length and licked the tip, then sucked it into her mouth, sucking it like a lollipop until she heard a change in his unnecessary breathing.
She relaxed her throat and practiced breathing through her nose, then covered him with her mouth, taking him all the way in until his head brushed the back of her throat. Her tongue swirled around him as she sucked, running her mouth up and down him. She felt his body tense, his hands in her hair, and imagined he looked the way she pictured him in her mind earlier.
With several spurts he came in her mouth and Willow swallowed, spilling some down her chin. She licked him clean, then leaned back on her heels and looked up at him as she licked her lips. He grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her, lowered his face to hers and licked his release off of her chin.
They finished their recon patrol in uncomfortable silence. Willow didn't understand. Before, they'd fight, then shag and things would be normal. She wondered why she kept using that word. Sex with a vampire did not fall in the normal category no matter how you looked at it. Anyway, the point was, tonight things were different, and she didn't like it.
Just as they were nearing the gates to the last cemetery they'd had to patrol Spike stopped her. He wordlessly bent her over a headstone, one of those block things only a foot or so off of the ground, and lifted her skirt, baring her butt. If Willow looked up she could see the sidewalk and the street not ten feet away from them, but as Spike ran his hands over her she didn't care.
He slipped his fingers inside her to gauge her readiness, then undid his pants and thrust into her. With his hands on her hips he pumped into her, pulling her back each time he came forward so that he was buried deep inside her. Willow groaned, it felt like he was going to split her in two. She felt him stiffen behind her, felt him spurt his seed inside her, then felt him pull out and, with a slap on her butt, walk away.
She was shocked. He'd cum twice that night and she hadn't at all, and the little bit of wet she got at his tone earlier didn't count. Alright, now she *really* hated him!
The position she'd been in, the way he took her, in front of anyone stupid enough to be walking past the cemetery at midnight, was humiliating. She realized now that he was showing her something, the difference between what they'd done the night before and what they were doing now, telling her that she could make a choice.
But she didn't see that then, didn't want to see that. What she wanted was for her world to make sense again. When they were shagging she didn't have to think about how good he made her feel, how much she didn't hate him, sometimes.
***
Tonight was the night that changed her life, though she had no idea of that when the day started. Tonight she found out that the old adage `you don't know what you have until you almost lose it' is entirely true.
They'd gathered at Giles' to discuss patrol. No one had spotted the demon last night. Tonight they were going to split up again, but not all over town, staying close enough to come to each other's assistance when called via the walkie-talkies each group carried.
Part way through patrol,the six of them entered the third cemetery of the night. Buffy & Giles veered off to the right, Xander & Anya to the left, and Spike & Willow kept straight. As luck would have it, all of her luck seeming to be bad lately, Willow and Spike ran into the demon. Literally.
They were walking along, still not talking, when the demon lunged out of some bushes and tackled Willow to the ground. Her head hit with a thud and the walkie-talkie she carried went flying. She dimly heard a thump as Spike hit the demon.
"Back off, mate, she's *mine*," Spike said and Willow slowly opened one eye. Spike was fighting the demon, and losing. The demon was *huge*! How come the books didn't say he'd be huge? Willow rolled to her knees and looked around frantically for the walkie- talkie. She finally spotted it and crawled to it as fast as she could.
She pushed the button as soon as her fingers found it, screaming, "Buffy! Buffy!", even before it was anywhere near her mouth. Dropping the walkie-talkie she ran over to help Spike. She didn't have a weapon, so she picked up a stick she found and hit the demon. He ignored her. *Ignored* her, which really pissed her off, plus he was beating the hell...heck...out of Spike and that kind of bothered her a little, too.
Willow jammed the stick between the demon's legs, hoping it's...goods...were located in about the same place as a human. That oughta hurt. Oh, yep, that certainly got it's attention, Willow thought as it squealed, dropped Spike and turned toward her. Thank the goddess, Buffy showed up then with Giles' close on her heels. While Buffy and Giles engaged the demon Willow ran over to Spike.
She knelt beside him and reached a hand out to touch him, but she didn't know where she could touch him that wouldn't hurt. He was covered in cuts and bruises. "Spike," she whispered his name. "Spike?" When he didn't move, didn't answer her, she lifted his head into her lap, brushing his hair off of his forehead as she rocked. Oh, goddess, she thought, Spike, please don't die.
Buffy, with Giles' help, finally killed the demon, which disappeared in a puff of smoke. "Gotta love the ones that clean up after themselves," Willow heard Buffy say.
Xander and Anya came running up then, out of breath. "Where's the demon?" he asked.
"Poof!" Buffy said. "Wills, you okay?" the blond knelt beside her.
"Spike's hurt," Willow whimpered as she continued to rock.
"Well, he's not dust, so he'll probably live. Let's get him back to the apartment, okay?" Giles and Xander lifted Spike and half dragged, half carried him back to Giles' apartment where they started to lay him on the couch.
"Wait! Take his duster off," Willow stopped them. They looked at her strangely. "He needs to be cleaned up," she explained, "easier to do if his jacket's off." They managed to get him out of his jacket and then laid him on the couch.
"Will you get the first aid kit, and some scissors?" Willow asked the room in general as she knelt beside the couch. Anya handed her a pair of scissors and Willow cut Spike's t-shirt off of him. He'd probably kill her for this alone after he got the chip out, she thought madly. Giles handed her the first aid kit and Willow cleaned and bandaged Spike's wounds.
His face and upper body was a mass of cuts, gashes and bruises. One eye was swollen shut. He hadn't moved at all while she tended to him. She felt tears pool in her eyes and reached out to take his hand in hers, careful not to touch the bruised and scraped knuckles.
Buffy knelt in front of her. "Wills, are you okay?"
"He won't die, will he?" she asked Buffy hopefully.
"Of course not!" Buffy agreed. "He's got all sorts of things going for him. First of all, vampire, super duper healing, and secondly, pain in the ass, so he's definitely going to live!"
Willow gave a small smile and then burst into tears. "Oh, Willow," Buffy put her arms around Willow's shaking shoulders and held her.
"He needs blood. I wish he'd wake up. I don't want him to die, Buffy," Willow said through her sobs. "You know what the last thing I told him was?" she asked, then continued without waiting for an answer, "That I hated him. I don't want him to die thinking I hate him. I mean, I don't want him to die at *all*, but especially not thinking that I hate him."
"It's okay, Wills," Buffy tried to soothe her, "we all hate him."
"But I *don't*," Willow wailed. "I wanted to. I tried to. I told him all the time that I did. I really tried not to, Buffy," Willow grabbed her friends arm with her free hand, "but I think I've done something horrible!"
"What?" Buffy asked, suddenly concerned for her friend.
"I think I've fallen in love with him," Willow started crying again.
Spike's eye shot open and then he moaned, closing it as the pain hit.
"Spike!" Willow leaned over him and he slowly opened his good eye again. "Spike, you're alive," she fell on his chest and he groaned.
"Oh, no!" Willow pulled back and looked at the bandage on his chest that was turning red as the cut she'd just reopened started to bleed. She put her hand over the bandage and pressed on the cut. "He's bleeding again!" she turned to Buffy. "Help, do something!" she was starting to get hysterical, but she couldn't help it.
Buffy calmly covered Willow's hand with her own and pressed down. "Just hold on," she said, "it'll stop bleeding." Willow stared into her eyes then looked down as Spike.
"Oh, blood!" she remembered when she noticed that he was much paler than usual.
"Right here," Anya said behind her, holding out the mug. Willow looked down at her hands, one holding Spike's and the other pressed to his chest.
"Um, could you...?" Willow began.
"Sure," Anya walked around the coffee table and held the straw to Spike's mouth.
After Spike had finished the blood and fallen back asleep, or unconscious, Willow wasn't sure which, she rebandaged his chest. With one last look at his face Willow stood up and walked toward the hallway leading to the bathroom.
"Buffy," Willow said as she passed her and Buffy immediately stood and followed her.
Willow was sitting on the toilet seat crying when Buffy stepped into the bathroom and closed the door.
"Oh, Wills, he'll be alright," Buffy knelt on the floor in front of her and wrapped her arms around Willow's waist. Willow slid off of the toilet and placed her head on Buffy's shoulder and sobbed. Finally Willow's sobs subsided and she lifted her head
"Sorry about your shirt," she plucked at the sopping wet material.
"That's alright," Buffy smiled, then sat with her back against the door. "Now what's this about you being in love with Spike?"
"Wait!" Anya called from the other side of the door. "I want to hear this part, too!"
Buffy rolled her eyes then slid over and Anya pushed the door open. "I didn't miss anything good, did I?" she asked excitedly as she shut the door and joined them on the floor.
"No, we're just getting to the good stuff," Buffy assured her and Willow blushed. Now that Spike was going to live she was almost sorry that she'd blurted that out to Buffy. How in the world was she going to explain to Buffy what had been going on between her and Spike when she still wasn't sure herself?
Willow decided to stick to the bare facts and told them that she and Spike had been having sex, that even though Willow was convinced that she hated him, she couldn't help wanting him, and that it wasn't until she almost lost him that she realized that she might actually be in love with him. Anya pushed for more details, but Willow just blushed and said there weren't that many details. Now who's the big, fat liar, she thought.
"So, how did *you* know?" Buffy finally asked Anya.
"Oh, please," she waved her hand, "it was so obvious."
"It was?" Buffy and Willow both squeaked.
"Oh, yeah! *Nobody* fights that much unless they're not getting what they need," Anya assured them.
"B-but I was getting...stuff," Willow argued lamely.
"Obviously not what you needed," Anya said.
"Which is?"
"To finally admit that it wasn't just sex. That you cared about him," Anya replied sagely.
"But, I didn't *want* to care about him!" Willow protested.
"Can't pick who you fall in love with," Buffy leaned her head back as she thought about Angel.
"Ain't that the truth," Anya nodded her head, thinking about Xander.
"Y-you don't think Spike knows, do you?" Willow asked, suddenly scared. What if she scared him off? What if he didn't love her? What if...
"You mean before you blurted it out right in front of him?" Buffy asked dryly.
"Y-you don't think he *heard* that, do you?" Willow's face crumpled up.
"I think that's what woke him up," Buffy said.
"Besides, he already knew," Anya assured her.
"B-but *I* just found out, h-how could he know?" Willow stammered.
"`Cause you're Willow," Anya stated as if that said it all. Willow just looked at her.
"Willow wouldn't sleep with someone she didn't care about," Buffy explained. "I think when you said it, before," Buffy went on, "Spike woke up `cause you gave him something to live for."
"You really think so?" Willow asked hopefully.
"Yeah," Buffy said, "though, knowing Spike, or, rather, knowing what you *haven't* told me about Spike, he probably would have woken up sooner if you said you were naked."
"Buffy!" Willow squeaked as she blushed again and the other girls laughed.
***
The night was almost over and Willow sat on the floor next to Spike, her back resting against the couch, her head against his leg. Everyone else had left, except for Giles who was asleep in the loft, `cause it was his apartment, and it was quiet. She had turned all of the lights off except the one over the sink in the kitchen so she could see to go to the bathroom.
Suddenly she felt fingers in her hair. She turned her head to see Spike looking at her.
"Hey," she smiled.
"Hey," he rasped back.
"How are you feeling?" she shifted so that she was facing him, her chin resting on the seat of the couch.
"Bloody fantastic," he joked. "It's almost sunrise," he said, "I need to get out of here."
"You're not going anywhere, mister!" Willow sat up straight. "You need to rest," she absently rubbed his arm.
"I'd rest better if you were up here on, I mean, with, me," Spike smirked at her.
"Very funny!" Willow gently slapped his arm, seeing through his bravado to the pain underneath. "You need human blood to heal, don't you?" she asked.
Spike looked at her in surprise. "It'd help, yeah," he admitted.
"Take mine," she offered and Spike's look of surprise turned to one of shock. Before he could say anything Willow stood and, with one hand on the back of the couch, lifted one knee over his legs to straddle him. He raised his hands to grab her waist and she looked up into his face to see his raised eyebrow.
"Don't get any ideas," she warned him as she crawled up his body, "you need to heal." She shoved her hair back, carefully lay on his chest and tilted her head to expose her neck.
"What if I can't stop?" Spike asked seriously.
She moved her mouth close to his ear and whispered, "Then you won't ever be able to bury yourself inside my hot, tight...,"
"Alright!" he cried and with a smile Willow moved her neck back to his mouth. Spike morphed and Willow felt herself get wet at the sight and feel of it. Goddess, she was one sick puppy, she thought. Then Spike sank his fangs into her neck and she felt the pain, which was quickly replaced by a pleasure she would never have imagined.
She grabbed his shoulders and pressed her hips against him as he drew her blood out of her body. Within moments she was panting, clutching at his shoulders and grinding herself against him as she sought relief from the need building inside her. "Spi-ike!" she cried as her body found release. He pulled his fangs out of her and licked the twin puncture wounds.
Willow moaned as she lifted herself off of his chest and dropped into the space between him and the back of the couch. She settled herself with her head resting on his chest and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
"Why didn't you ever do that before?" she asked, her voice still breathless.
"Afraid it would taste too good," he finally admitted.
"You didn't think you'd be able to stop?" she asked.
"Didn't think I'd be able to let you go," he whispered.
"Oh," she said. "A-are you going to let me go?"
"Never," he said, "need you too bloody much."
"Oh. I'm glad you didn't die, Spike. I need you, too," she sighed, then they both fell silent.
"I love you, Spike," she whispered when she thought he'd fallen asleep.
"Love you, too, Willow," he squeezed her tight and she froze as she realized he was still awake, then relaxed and smiled. Absently rubbing her fingertips on his stomach she fell asleep.
They both finally had what they needed.
End