Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Willow / Spike (that’s right, I said Spike!)
Summary: Willow has some serious thinking to do, and does a little spell to help.
Spoilers: Series begins just after ‘Lover’s Walk’, now a couple of years have passed, and we’re now at the very end of season six.
Disclaimer: I did not build the Buffyverse that would be Joss, it is merely my playground.
Distribution: If you want it, fine by me, just drop me a line first.
Special Thanks: Kat for checking over my ramblings, Aden for always being happy to see me, and all the super cool people who send me feedback!
Feedback: Pretty please with sugar on top!
A/N: This one’s for Feen, who begged so nicely for some Spillowy goodness!
Happy Mother’s Day Ladies!!!
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From the moment they had left the club, Willow could do nothing but think about what Lorne had said to her. Even Angelus’ angry tirade over their coming home late and drunk hadn’t distracted her from thoughts of home and who was waiting for her there. Her lack of concern over Angelus’ temper tantrum only enraged him further, and he took great pleasure in belting her across the lobby.
After a few moments of lying very still, watching the world spin, Willow felt her head tenderly where it had connected with the counter. She didn’t think anything was broken, touching her jaw next, but she probably would have a concussion. Angelus hadn’t hit her in months, and had completely caught her off guard. She opened her mouth to cast a spell that would turn him into something cute and fluffy for awhile, but found her jaw hurt bad enough that talking wasn’t such a good idea. So instead she just sat, half sprawled on the floor, giving him a dirty look.
Angelus hadn’t meant to lose it and hit her like that, but the pair had been gone so long that he had started to worry. Then when they finally came in, drunk, and reeking of other demons, he just lost it. Whether she would admit it or not, Willow belonged to him. He couldn’t stomach the thought of her being with someone else. However, when his little witch opened her mouth to cast a spell at him, he realized the full magnitude of what he had done. They had had an unspoken agreement that all violence between them was to be kept to the bedroom. He had broken that agreement, and there was no telling what she might do in retaliation. He at least had the good grace to look sorry for what he had done, but there was no way he was going to apologize in front of his childer. If it was just Drusilla, maybe, but not Cordelia. He didn’t want the fledgling getting any ideas. When it looked like Willow was going to hold off on the retaliation, he turned to face Cordy, who flinched visibly.
“Cordelia, go upstairs and strip. Drusilla will begin your punishment and I will be up in a minute,” Angelus said firmly.
“Oh, goody!” Drusilla squealed, and clapped her hands with glee, “Come along, dolly, Daddy wants to be alone with the little tree.”
“No way! I’m not going anywhere with that crazy bitch!” Cordelia protested.
But another carefully aimed backhand changed her mind, and soon the pair was up the stairs and out of sight. Angelus bent carefully over the redhead, a bit scared of retaliation still, but wanting to be sure she was okay. He checked her head carefully, and then went to fetch her an ice pack. When he returned, Willow was sitting up a little better, and had begun chanting a healing spell. At first the dark vampire thought she was going to curse him after all, but then he heard the familiar words, and simply sat on the couch to wait patiently for her to finish. He had heard Willow do this spell a thousand times, usually after sex, and knew it wouldn’t take long. When she was done, her head felt much better, as did her jaw, but she was going to have one hell of a bruise across her face for a few days.
“I’m sorry Willow,” Angelus apologized softly.
“Whatever. I’m tired. I’m going to bed,” she replied without looking at him.
“I said I was sorry, what do you want from me? I am a demon for fuck’s sake, you know, evil? I lost my temper. Just tell me how I can make it up to you?” he asked, feeling a bit desperate.
“Why do you care if I forgive you?”
“You know why,” he said, moving to stand in front of her.
“I know you think you feel something strong for me, Angelus, but it’s not love.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But I do care, and I do want you for my mate.”
“And I already told you no,” she said, feeling very tired now, and not wanting to have this conversation again.
“I could just force you.”
“You could try, but even if you succeeded, I would just stake myself.”
“Damn it, woman! Why do you have to be so difficult!?”
“Because if I was easy, you wouldn’t want me in the first place.”
“You were willing enough when Spike wanted to turn you,” Angelus practically spat out.
“That was different. I thought I was in love. I’m not that naive girl anymore. Now, goodnight.”
Before he had the chance for rebuttal, she was gone up the stairs. Angelus stared after her for a moment, swearing under his breath before heading up to his own room to punish his new childe.
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Willow lay in her bed, tossing and turning. She was completely exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to simply pass out, but her thoughts kept flowing back to him, and she just couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking at that very moment. She had worked very hard at controlling her thoughts of the blonde vampire, but sometimes her concentration slipped.
Finally her curiosity got the better of her, and she sat up straighter in her bed to cast the simple spell that would allow her to get a sense of what was running through his head at that moment. Willow focused her mind on her old lover, pushing a modicum of energy out toward him as she quietly chanted her spell, and waited for a response. Nothing came. For a moment she began to panic, fearing something had happened to him. They had always had a strong bond from sharing so much blood with each other, and it had taken a great deal of time for her to learn how to close him off from herself. It got easier over time, and distance seemed to help as well. But now, being practically next door to Sunnydale, and concentrating her energy on him, she should have felt something. Again she sent her energy out, more forcefully this time, demanding a response, and she finally got one. He was alive.
Willow let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. He was alive, or well, undead anyway. But she still couldn’t get a sense of him. Perhaps she was simply too emotional at the moment to focus clearly or maybe he had learned to block her out just as she had him. This last thought made her chest tight just thinking about it. It was stupid, she knew. After all, why wouldn’t he have moved on? He had never come looking for her. Maybe Cordelia was right, all that time he was just trying to upset Buffy. Hell, after her he had gone on to date Harmony. Harmony for fuck’s sake! If ever there was a girl who was the complete opposite of Willow, it was Harmony. That must be why she couldn’t connect with him. He had moved on and blocked her out of his life.
Trying to fight back her tears, she curled onto her side, feeling very pathetic indeed. Suddenly she wished she had Miss Edith there to cuddle up with. As Willow drifted off to sleep, she felt very small, very helpless, and completely alone.
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Willow felt herself falling. She seemed to be slipping in and out of her past. Images spilled around her of times spent at Marion. She could feel the restraints binding her to the bed once again as a large needle was shoved into her arm. And then it was past and she was back in Vienna in the dirty little alley where she had killed a woman, snapped her neck after watching Angelus kill the woman’s child. It was the first time she had truly felt like a monster, but it wouldn’t be her last. Then her surroundings swirled again and she found herself in a place she did not recognize.
Everything was so bright, and there were clusters of people moving around in lab coats. Willow tried to move and found she was strapped down to a gurney. Glancing around she saw a green demon with long horns strapped down to a similar gurney nearby. She didn’t know what was happening, but panic filled her when she saw a woman with short blonde hair standing over her with a bone saw. She struggled as two of the men in lab coats strapped her head down. She felt the pain of the saw starting to cut into her head, and screamed. Then, it was all gone in a swirl of color.
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Spike’s head swam with images of the past few years. Mostly they were moments of humiliation. Learning to live with the chip, having to rely on the Scoobies. He had never felt so helpless and lost. All he had wanted was to come back to Sunnydale and find Willow. He figured if he tortured enough of her friends, some useful bit of information was bound to come up, but then the initiative had put that bloody buggery chip in his head. His eyes were filled with images of wandering the streets, hungry, confused, and afraid.
Then his mind was filled with another image, the slayer. Her head thrown back in ecstasy as she writhed on top of him. She was using him, but he didn’t care. Despite what rose tinted lies he told himself about loving her, he knew their time together was nothing more than an exercise in self hatred for both of them. Buffy was everything that Willow was not, selfish, petty, and cruel. He deserved the way she treated him, deserved it for letting Willow slip away.
Suddenly the image of the slayer grew fuzzy and was replaced by a sweaty man, pounding away inside of him. The sensation was confusing, and terrifying. He was being raped by some unknown man. The sour smell of his flesh made Spike want to gag as he felt the man coming inside of him.
“Boy, you redheads sure know how to fuck,” the man said as he leaned down to plant a kiss on Spike’s forehead.
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The images of horror flowed back and forth between the vampire and the witch. Spike being beaten unconscious by Buffy, Willow killing Dr. Scholten, Glory torturing Spike for hours on end, Willow being beaten and raped by Angelus. Each memory struck like a fresh experience, allowing the both of them to fully embrace the trauma of the various situations. Then the images flashed to the moment when Willow had been told her son was dead.
The pain flooding Spike and Willow’s bodies over the loss of the child was beyond comprehension. And just when it began to pass, the scene shifted to the night in France, when Willow had to say goodbye to the boy once again, this time for good. For Willow the pain was still fresh, raw, but familiar. Even though it felt like she could very well die from the emptiness in her heart, she knew somewhere inside that she would survive. However, for Spike the pain was new, and as real as if it was his own.
His mind felt like it would break, so overwhelming was the anguish inside of him. Part of it was the memory of the heartache Willow had felt, and part of it was new pain, knowing the woman he loved had suffered so much because of his failure. Spike felt as if he were being ripped apart inside, trying to claw himself away from the combined memories, but all the while only submerging himself deeper in them.
For Willow the trip through her past was heartrending, especially the parts with her child, but there was the added pain of Spike’s memories, his humiliation, his fear. She had thought he was off having a wonderful time while she was living in hell, but the truth was he had been in a hell of his own. He hadn’t abandoned her. She knew that now.
Willow reached out to Spike’s mind, wanting to share something, anything besides the torment they both had just experienced. But again she couldn’t reach him. She sensed his mind but it was trapped now by the images of horror. Willow could feel him falling into a pit of despair. Her body flooded with panic, she knew that if she couldn’t pull him out of the memory flood, he would lose himself forever.
She pushed harder against the barrier between their minds and felt it finally give. She was once again standing in the alley behind the strip clubs in Council Bluffs, watching Spike stab John over and over, before slicing his face to ribbons. She hated this memory more than almost any other. She hated it because she had enjoyed killing this man, butchering him, and that made her a monster. But as she stood there watching Spike act out her evil deed, she only felt pity. Pity for Spike, forced to live out her traumas, and pity for herself for letting anyone drive her to such rage and desperation. This wasn’t who she was, not really.
She walked over to Spike and touched him on the arm gently. The blonde vampire spun around, the knife still clutched tightly in his hand, and blood covering his body. His eyes were too wide, as if he was in shock. There were tears running down his cheeks as he stared at her, his mouth hanging open.
“I…I killed him,” Spike said in a strained voice that seemed to echo in the emptiness surrounding them.
“No, Spike, ‘you’ didn’t. I did,” Willow said in a comforting tone, reaching up to stroke his cheek softly.
The vampire blinked several times, his eyes finally focusing on the redhead before him as if a veil had suddenly been lifted. He let out a soft gasp, and reached out to grab her, pulling her tightly into his arms, and sobbing uncontrollably. Willow stroked his hair and whispered soothing words into his ear as he cried, her own tears joining his.
“Oh god Willow, I thought I had lost you forever,” he said, voice cracking with emotion, “I’m so sorry, so sorry, so sorry…”
Willow turned his face towards her own, brushing a soft kiss across his lips to quiet him. The kiss deepened, their mouths exploring, gently but firmly reacquainting themselves with each other. Willow’s eyes closed, allowing her body to simply feel the closeness of his body; the body she had been missing for so long. But Spike’s eyes remained open, unwilling to let her out of his sight for fear that she would simply disappear. His gaze was filled with pale skin, and a fuzz of fiery hair, too close to focus on, as the world around them shifted again and they were transported back to their house in Salem.
This time, however, they were not forced to relive old memories. It was just the two of them together in the place that had been their home. Spike slid his mouth away from hers, slowly working his way down her chin to her throat. His tongue darted out, trailing its cool wetness along the scar on her neck where he had marked her twice before. The sensation sent shivers down her spine. She was his, she belonged to him.
Willow grabbed at the hem of his black T-shirt, pulling it out of his pants and over his head, as the blonde vamp began pulling at the ties on her halter top. What had started out as gentle quickly became desperate as both of them were driven by the need to feel naked flesh against their own. They had been separated for far too long, and couldn’t stand to let it go on for another minute.
Having quickly shirked the rest of their clothing, Spike fell back on their bed, pulling Willow down on top of him. It was almost as if the pair were trying to devour each other. Lips, hungry, caressed across Willow’s hot flesh, as she pulled Spike’s hand up, sucking two of his fingers into her mouth, needing to taste him. Foreplay was too torturous. The redhead grabbed Spike by the hair, halting his exploration of her body, and pulling his mouth back to hers. The need in her eyes was screaming at him.
He had thought of this moment countless times, he wanted to take his time. He wanted to caress, taste, fondle every part of her, missing nothing. But now that the time had come, he knew the gentle lovemaking would have to wait. The demon in him needed to reclaim her, and what’s more, she needed to feel his claim again as well.
Spike pushed her legs apart and guided his hard length into her, listening to Willow hiss with pleasure at the familiar sensation. He began a steady if not somewhat frantic pace. He was overwhelmed by her heat, lost in her scent. This was what he had been waiting for, for so long. He was complete, fulfilled by her touch, alive while he was inside of her.
There was no control left in either of them as Willow began bucking her hips up to meet him, driving him impossibly deep within her. She wanted to pull his body all the way into her, swallow him whole so that he could never leave her again. She felt hot tears rolling down her face as she began to reach the high point.
Spike drove into her with wild abandon, the whole time keeping his eyes fixed on her face. Her hair was spread across the pillow like ruby flames, her lips swollen from his kisses were slightly parted and emitting a low moaning sound. Her skin was flushed and her eyes were heavy lidded with passion. He wanted to burn the image of her into his mind so that she was never lost to him again. He felt her stomach muscles start to bunch slightly beneath him, and knew she was close.
She hit the precipice hard, as an ocean of pleasure rolled over her body, tearing a scream from her throat. Willow again grabbed Spike roughly by the hair, this time pulling his head down to her throat, inviting him to drink, as her muscles convulsed around his cock.
He had never dreamed he would be able to taste her again, and as her sweet blood filled his mouth, cool tears of love and gratitude ran down his cheeks. His release rocked his body into hers with a jerky motion, overwhelming him with the force of it as she milked his seed from him.
For several long moments they lay, unmoving, Spike softly lapping up the last traces of her blood. Then, slowly, he raised himself up to look at her once again.
“Willow, I…” before Spike could finish, the world began to swirl around them, and the redhead faded before his eyes.
“Willow! Noooo!” he screamed, but it was too late, she was gone.