Summary: Willow wants to learn how to hunt, but a couple things go wrong
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The next several weeks passed quickly. They had fallen into a routine. Everyday they would get up in the early afternoon, so Spike could watch his soap operas; he had a weird fixation with ‘Passions’ that Willow found quite amusing. Then he would spend some time in the basement with his minions, training them to improve their fighting skills. His minions, now six in number, were less than pleased with all the extra work. Vampires have a natural ability, an innate sense of power and grace, although Spike apparently had chosen this particular group for their thuggish qualities, but still they did have a great deal of athleticism. This however was not good enough for Spike. He wanted them ready incase the slayer and her little mates decided to drop by for a visit.
Willow loved to watch them train. It was like watching a ballet with fangs and growling. It never ceased to amaze her how powerful Spike was, as she observed him repeatedly thwarting the attacks of his little troupe. He had also started training her how to fight as well. He knew there was no real risk in this, because in a hundred years she would never be able to take him, but it might give her a slight edge if one of his minions were to make an unwelcome advance. He had already dusted three of them for this reason, but was hoping their replacements would be a little smarter.
Willow took to fighting quickly, all her countless hours of watching the slayer surely helped with this. Spike was a little surprised to learn that the slayer had never bothered to train any of her mates, considering how often they went on patrol with her, but Willow simply explained that Buffy was afraid they would be more reckless if they had some training. She had preferred to keep them unskilled and under her protection, believing in her own twisted way that they would be safer somehow. Buffy may have been a bit callous at times, but despite what Spike may have been implying, Willow knew she would never intentionally endanger her friends.
By the time they were done training the sun would have set, and Spike would go out to hunt, leaving Willow securely chained in their locked bedroom. It was an inconvenience, but one she didn’t mind so much any more. He was never gone for long, and when he returned, they would have their more ‘private’ lessons.
Part of these lessons was about pain, and part was about pleasure, but mostly they were about trust. At first he had started out small, a little candle wax, some spanking, and Willow was hooked. She learned quickly that a little pain could bring with it an immense amount of pleasure, and slowly gave herself up to the sensations. The first time Spike wanted to blindfold her she was terrified, but once she realized that he didn’t plan on taking things beyond what they had already done, she was able to relax a little and focus on the feel of his hand striking her bare bottom, somehow always surprised with each blow.
Soon, they had moved on to more serious play. Spike had his minion, George, a former carpenter; build a type of St. Anne’s cross in the basement for the two of them. Willow was a little confused by this. She couldn’t understand why Spike would want any kind of cross, or why his minion would be willing to build one. However, when she finally saw it she realized the name had been misleading because it didn’t look like a cross at all, but more like a large wheel with an X in the middle for someone to be strapped to. Then the wheel could be spun while the person on it was whipped. The sensation was a little overwhelming at first, but not at all unpleasant. Spike was always very careful not to go too hard on her; he didn’t want to risk leaving any permanent marks on her body.
All this ‘torture’ would work the pair into a frenzy, so that they finally had to drag a mattress into the basement because they so rarely made it back upstairs before Willow had ripped Spike’s clothes off. Then afterwards the pair of them would take a stroll by the harbor and talk. Spike wasn’t quite ready yet to let Willow go out in public, but he was becoming more relaxed in their own neighborhood, and everyday he would bring her books and other things to keep her occupied while he was off hunting.
Spike was truly a conundrum; he was a brutal killer, ruthless with his minions, and particularly fond of torture, yet he was also a hopeless romantic, he was addicted to soaps and romance novels, and he was a poet (even though he would rather dust himself than admit it). It was hard for her not to develop strong feelings for this creature that had so completely taken over her life, but it still wasn’t love, more like addiction maybe. An addiction Willow let consume her with a flame that grew brighter with each passing night.
However, over time, despite how stimulating her ‘lessons’ were, she was becoming restless having to spend so much time locked in their bedroom. Willow was curious about the city she had been brought to, and wanted to explore the historical sites. She was also interested in learning more about vampire culture, namely hunting. Living on the hellmouth she had seen plenty of vampires, and had also seen many people die, but a lot had changed since then.
Back then such things left her feeling completely horrified, but now things were different, she was different. She understood the importance of blood, and how necessary it was to Spike’s existence, just as he was necessary to her existence. In truth, she had wanted him to turn her for some time now. She no longer wanted to deal with the moral battle being waged within her, she wanted to throw in the towel and give over to the darkness. But Spike didn’t think she was ready yet, although after much begging, he did finally agree to take her hunting with him.
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The night Willow was to first go hunting with Spike, she was beside herself with anticipation. Tonight she would overcome her pesky morality. She would prove to herself once and for all that the tiny voice in her head that hadn’t shut up since she was first kidnapped, didn’t know what it was talking about. She was not Willow the computer geek, Willow the doormat; she was a killer just waiting to be born. It had to be true, she was evil. Why else would she be so thoroughly turned on by pain? Tonight, she would look death in the face and smile. Then Spike will see that she was ready, and he would finally free her of her burdensome mortality. Yes, tonight was her night.
The pair of them left just after dusk. On their way out, Willow could here the minions taking bets on how far she would allow Spike to go, before she tried to stop him. They all were convinced she would chicken out. ‘I’ll show them,’ she thought bitterly, ‘I’m not a weakling anymore, and once I’m turned, they’ll all pay.’ She clung tighter to Spike’s hand for reassurance, and he gave her a gentle squeeze back.
Spike was a little worried about how the evening could go. He wasn’t sure she was ready for this. In fact, he hadn’t planned on teaching her about hunting, until after she was turned. But she had been so insistent that he had finally relented. ‘Oh hell, what’s the worst that could happen? Even if Red decides to run, she won’t get far, and besides, this way she gets to see how manly you really are,’ he thought to himself. However, just to be on the safe side he would pick his dinner carefully. A dive bar with few customers should do, drunks always made easy targets, and also cut down on his liquor expenses since he could get drunk just from their blood. Also that way it would be easier to keep an eye on Red.
They arrived at their destination after driving around for twenty minutes or so. It was a small pub, somewhat secluded from the other businesses and bars, sandwiched between two abandoned buildings. In fact, Willow was a little surprised it was still in business. When they stepped inside to see only a handful of patrons, she doubted they would be open for much longer. Spike had his arm wrapped possessively around her waist as he sauntered over to the bar, ushering her along beside him.
"Would you like a drink luv?"
"Umm, ok, I’ll have a Shirley Temple," she said, then noticing the bartender’s and Spike’s raised eyebrows, she realized that this was a child’s drink, and blushed with embarrassment.
"Tell you what, I’ll take whatever import you have on tap, and why don’t you give the lady a shot of cinnamon schnapps," Spike said, repressing a chuckle. No matter how debauched she became, his princess had a streak of innocence a mile wide.
The bartender handed them their drinks, and Spike paid him with money he had stolen from last night’s dinner. Then, carrying their beverages, they headed over to an out of the way table. After sitting there for some time with Willow eyeing her drink suspiciously, Spike finally had to say something.
"It’s just a drink pet, it’s not gonna hurt you."
"Will it taste bad?"
"Nah, it’ll just taste like cinnamon, same as you," he said with a mischievous grin, "Just toss it back, all at once luv, you’ll like it."
Willow did as she was instructed, letting out a small squeak as the clear substance burned its way down her throat. It felt as if she had taken a shot of liquid fire, and it was making her eyes water.
"You tricked me," she managed to gasp out.
"Did not, I said it wouldn’t taste bad, and it doesn’t," he said, leaning forward to give her a deep kiss and licking his lips afterwards, "Mmmm, delicious. And I promise, after a few more, you’ll love ‘em."
Spike was right, two hours and six shots later, she did love them. Of course by this point she was completely smashed, and Spike decided it was time to cut her off. They needed to get on with what they had come here for, but if Red became too much of a handful, it might make things more difficult. ‘Time for coffee,’ he thought, heading back up to the bar. While he stood there waiting he noticed a guy sitting on a nearby stool in a rumpled suit, with rumpled hair to match, crying in his whiskey.
"What’s the trouble mate?" Spike asked, eyeing his potential dinner.
"Whas’ at?" the man slurred back.
"You having lady troubles?" he guessed. After living for so long, he had seen it a million times. Bloke crying in his drink equals broken heart. And this gave him an idea, maybe Red could lure him outside. It would be much easier than Spike trying to come up with a believable excuse for the two of them to take a walk.
"Bitch left me," the drunk replied, looking up at the strange man, "Hey aren’t you that guy, whas’ iz name, Billy Bible or somethin’?"
"Billy Idol, and no," he hated it when people thought he looked like Billy Idol, that wanker stole his look from Spike years ago. "Look mate, I’ve been through this myself once or twice. What you need is another chit to take your mind off the ex, like that cute little redhead over there," he said, pointing at Willow.
"Look pal, I appreeziate the offer, but I already spent all my money on wishhkey," the man slurred in response, not wanting to have problems with a hooker and her pimp.
"She’s not a harlot," Spike said trying to control his rage at the implication. After all, if he were in this man’s position he probably would have thought the same thing. "She’s a really nice bird, said she thought you were cute, but she was just to shy to say so herself. I think she feels sorry for you, sittin’ here cryin’ in your drink, said she wanted to cheer you up if you know what I mean."
"And you’re not her pimp?" the man asked, still unsure.
"No, I’m just a friend. Tell you what, why don’t I send her over to talk to you herself." And with that Spike grabbed the cup of coffee he had been waiting for, and walked back to the table where Willow was waiting.
"Ok baby, it’s time to hunt. Are you ready?" he asked, eyeing her wobbly form a bit warily.
"Ready Freddy!" she replied with a giggle.
"Alright, I want you to go over to the guy at the bar, and ask him real nice like to go outside with you. Can you do that for me pet?"
"That’s an affirmative captain!" she said, saluting him as she stood and haphazardly wobbled over to the bar.
Spike was really starting to think this whole thing was a bad idea, while he watched her approach her fellow drunk. She was going to blow it somehow, he was sure of it, but then he saw her casually drape her arm across the man’s shoulders, and lean in close to whisper in his ear. All thoughts of her scaring away his prey vanished, and were replaced by jealous rage. This really was a bad idea. Then as he watched, the two of them stood and stumbled out of the bar. Spike followed close behind, as Willow led him down the street a little and into an alley.
The man’s hands were all over her, as he tried to focus enough through his intoxication to pull Willow’s clothes off. Willow in all her drunkenness didn’t mind all the pawing, in fact as the man pushed her up against a wall and ground his erection against her she thought this wasn’t bad at all. However, just as she was thinking this, Spike pulled the drunk off her, and held his squirming body tightly, with one hand over his mouth. He couldn’t believe his eyes, his ‘princess’ was about to let this bleedin’ wanker fuck her in a dirty alley! His rage was almost blinding, but he fought to control it somewhat, otherwise he may well rip her pretty little head off.
"So, you wanted to learn about hunting?" he asked her, not bothering to hide his disgust, "First rule when killing in public, make it quick. You show no mercy, and waste no time, that way your less likely to get caught."
As he said this, he slipped into his game face, never taking his eyes off Willow. She slid to the ground under the weight of his stare. She didn’t know what she had done to anger him so much, but the look he was giving her was one of rabid fury. Suddenly she felt sorry for the man struggling in Spike’s grasp. She had known from the minute she had seen Spike talking to him that he was going to die and it hadn’t bothered her, but now she felt differently. It was one thing for him to be killed to satisfy a need, but it had become more than that. She didn’t think anyone deserved to die from the kind of rage Spike was directing at the both of them.
She had wanted to be strong, to prove that she was ready to accept all the aspects of vampire life, but now she didn’t think she could go through with it, she couldn’t watch this man die. But feeling Spike’s stare still upon her, she couldn’t move either. There was no point trying to save him, Spike rarely listened to reason and never when he was angry. She tried to re-embrace her darker self, this had been what she wanted. People die everyday, and today was this man’s day. She realized Spike was waiting, watching her to see if she would turn away, to see if she was weak. She lifted her chin, gritting her teeth, and looked him strait in the eye.
"Do it," she commanded coldly.
Spike bit down hard on the man’s throat, severing his jugular, and spraying a good deal of the area with blood, including Willow. She felt the warm spray hit her, and it caused her stomach to lurch. Spike covered the wound to prevent further waste of blood, and drank deeply. Willow couldn’t watch anymore, she turned her head away and heaved upon the ground. When it was over, Spike dropped the drained corpse to the ground, and lunged for her. His rage had still not been completely sated.
He hauled her up, and pinned her hard against the wall. He roughly shoved her short skirt up around her waist, and grabbing her panties with one hand, ripped them from her body. Willow felt as if she was falling down a well, consumed by darkness. She was only vaguely aware of him undoing his pants, before he slamed his full length into her dry channel. ‘What was happening?’ she wondered. His body was warm from the recent kill, and she found herself running her hands across his face, fascinated by the heat and color that was suddenly there. She ripped open his shirt so she could run her hands across his chest as well, she wanted to feel his warmth, so different from his normally cool skin, like life had suddenly stirred within him.
She pulled her own shirt off to increase this contact as she rode him harder, moaning wildly with her new arousal. She kissed him hard, tasting the dead man’s blood on Spike’s lips, the same blood that covered most of her body, and she wanted more. She lowered her mouth to his throat as he pounded into her, and bit down savagely, creating a much deeper wound than she ever had before. She drank his blood down greedily, relishing in the taste of him.
Spike’s demon roared in lust and rage at the woman who was trying to dominate him. He bit down into her shoulder, wanting to devour her, dominate her in return. The sharing of their blood, together with their frantic and brutal coupling sent Spike over the edge. He pulled his head back and roared as he came, his pulsating cock spilling his dead seed inside her. The sound of his obvious orgasm drove Willow over the edge as well, causing her walls to clench tightly around his member, milking him of the last of his essence.
When it was all over, they remained unmoving, clinging to each other for dear life. Both of them had been changed by the experience. Willow had wanted to embrace the darkness within her, and had succeeded, but at what cost? Spike after seeing Willow with another man had wanted nothing more than to murder the both of them. The man he was content to just kill, but Willow he had wanted to hurt first. He wanted to violate her, the way he had felt violated.
What had happened between them was not an act of sex, but an act of violence; one they had both embraced whole heartedly. It was rare for Spike to be bothered by his own darkness, as a demon it was simply part of who he was, but when he saw that darkness reflected in Willow, it did scare him. He had come so close to killing her, the woman he loved, and she was happy to let him do it. Any question he had had of her devotion to him, vanished. He felt somewhat sick at the realization that he had taken this child who was full of life and happiness, and turned her into a creature of darkness, just like him.
Finally Spike lowered Willow back down on to shaking legs, but still the pair did not move. They simply continued to hold each other for several more minutes, their foreheads resting together, both with their eyes closed tightly, afraid of what they might see if they opened them. Spike was the first to break the silence between them.
"Willow, baby, I’m so sorry for what I’ve done to you," he said with a slight sob, his voice full of remorse.
She didn’t quite understand why he was sorry, but she didn’t want him to be unhappy because of her. She ran her fingers through his straw like curls, and kissed him softly.
"Let’s go home," she said gently, finally breaking contact to rearrange her skirt and pull her shirt back on. Spike nodded, adjusting his pants, and tossing away the torn remnants of his T-shirt. Then remembering about the body, took a quick moment to toss it into a dumpster. He returned, and took her hand in his. His jaw was held tight, and Willow knew he was fighting the urge to break down and cry. She had seen him do it before, when Drusilla had left him for a chaos demon, but this time was different, because somehow she was responsible. She wanted to take his pain away, but wasn’t quite sure how, so instead she simply led him back to the car, and sat in silence during the drive home.
When they arrived back, all was quiet. It was several more hours until dawn, and all the minions had gone out to play. Willow led him upstairs and into their bathroom, starting the taps on the tub. While she waited for it to fill, she undressed and then went about undressing him as well. The pair of them sat in the enormous tub, this time with Willow cradling Spike, as she tenderly washed away the layer of blood and dirt that covered the both of them.
Spike said nothing, he had been silent since they had left the alley; he didn’t know what to say. In a way it was kind of funny. He had wanted to break her down, make her dependent on him so he would have someone to take care of, and here she was taking care of him. Somewhere along the line he had lost control of things. He thought if he could just train her, break her the way Angelus had done with Dru, that she would be his forever, and they would be happy. But in the process he had broken himself as well. He was afraid he had sacrificed whatever shred of humanity that was left within him.
He should of thought this through more, this wasn’t the right way for him to find a mate. With Angelus it had been different, he had been looking for a plaything, not a mate. Plus Angelus was so much more of a bastard than Spike ever was. He hated to admit that his poof of a sire could ever be stronger than him, but he was, there wasn’t a single trace of compassion in that man during the old days. No matter how much Spike hated the idea of being soft, he just wasn’t like that. He wanted a willing mate. He wanted Willow to stay because she wanted to, not because she was afraid.
Lost in his thoughts, Spike didn’t even notice when Willow drained the water from the tub. Then, cursing softly when she realized there were no towels, she led them, still damp, to the bed. Spike was shaking slightly and Willow wrapped herself around him tightly, trying to offer him some warmth and comfort. She rocked him, and hummed softly in his ear some tune from her childhood, until finally his shaking subsided, and he turned to look at her with troubled blue eyes.
"Willow," he said so softly it sounded almost like a prayer, "I think you should go home, it was a mistake to bring you here."
"What?" she asked in disbelief, visibly tensing.
"Your free to go, and I think you should."
"You don’t want me." She stated with defeat, pulling back from him.
"Of course I want you; any man would be daft not to want you."
"You promised to never leave me. You said ‘always’! You said ‘forever’!" she continued as if she hadn’t heard him.
"I know I did luv, but this is not how I want things. I want you to be here because you want to be, not because I’m holding you prisoner."
"But I do want to be here!" then added, noticing his look of doubt, "Honestly Spike, after all this time, you don’t think I could’ve escaped if I wanted to? Or did you forget that I was the smart Scooby?"
"So you want to be with me?" It was his turn to stare in disbelief.
"Of course I do" she replied, causing Spike to smile broadly before lowering his head to kiss her tenderly.
For the rest of the night he did all he could to make up for the way he had treated her in the alley. The hours of gentle lovemaking left the both of them exquisitely exhausted, and the ‘happy’ couple fell into a deep slumber, unaware and uncaring about the hardships tomorrow would bring.