Stone Circle

Author: paula

Email: paula_mary80@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine!

Rating: NC17

Pairing: Willow/Spike/Angel

Spoilers: It is set sometime in season 4, Oz never came back and Tara is just a friend.

This is my first ever fic, so all comments and suggestions are welcome.

~Part: 1~

Willow surveyed the sight before her, bemused. She was standing in the centre of a stone circle, surrounded by shadows - and she was not alone. To her right was a wall of fire, shimmering with red tongues of flame spurting from a pale blue core. In front of her was a cloud of dust, and as she watched the form become more defined and solid, no longer a loose cloud but a definite human looking shape. Finally on her left was a whirling spiral of wind, dashing around in a circle, almost dancing as it spun.

she thought, <although with the Hellmouth you never can tell.> Looking down Willow realised she was naked and breathed a sigh of relief - <definitely a dream then>. Her relief was short-lived, as the three images in front of her began to move forward, encircling her.

Her nervousness increased as she began to feel the power of the apparitions. While she told herself it was only a dream, she could feel her hair lifting and moving as the breeze from the wind dancer brushed across her skin. At the same time a nervous shiver ran through her as the dust figure reached shadowy hands in her direction. Scared despite her attempts to remain calm - <it's just a dream, just a dream> - she backed away from the figure, only to be engulfed in flames.

She woke up with a scream on her lips, to find herself looking into the concerned eyes of her roommate. Willow struggled to focus on her surroundings, still feeling the licks of flame stroking her skin, and the almost unbearable heat blanketing her body.

"Bad dream?" asked Buffy, as she finished dressing. Buffy paused at the door, ready to head off.

"I don't know, I don't remember it". Willow's clumsy lie was accepted without question as Buffy waved goodbye, leaving a shaken Willow behind. Willow slowly got out of bed, then headed to the shower to try to wash the feeling of the flames off her skin.

Having been best friends with the Slayer for years, and having spent countless hours researching dreams and prophecies, Willow knew better than to simply disregard her dream. It had had a very strange quality to it. Normally Willow's dreams were of tearful reunions with Oz, or performing deeds of heroism that earnt her the respect and admiration of her fellow Scoobies. This was the first time that she had been so detached that she had know it was a dream even while it was happening, while at the same time being unable to control events.

Puzzling over what was the best thing to do, Willow finally decided that her dream was too vague to be considered a prophecy - anyway, that was the Slayer's territory, not hers. Could it have been a warning? <Hey, it's not like I was going to start being best buddies with the king of the dust people>. Deciding that there was nothing to be done at present, Willow saw no point in mentioning it to the others.

~Part: 2~
Monday afternoon

A day of classes finished, Willow rushed to the library to check out some books for her new assignment before heading to Giles' place for their weekly research session. Throughout the day she had been reminded of her dream by the frequent and sudden sensation of flames caressing her body, causing her normally pale skin to turn red and her mood to turn black.

Her mood was not helped by her resentful thoughts as she approached Giles' and reflected that these meetings were just about the only time that she now saw her friends: Xander was always busy having "the sex" with Anya or trying to find a job; Buffy was intent on bonding with Riley, which left barely enough time for her to attend classes (lucky he was a TA - psych classes were about the only ones Buffy could be counted on to attend); and as for Giles, Willow was not that comfortable thinking of him as a friend, as someone she could hang out with. For one thing he was old - in an old-enough-to-really-be- your-father way. Also, he was Buffy's, at least in Willow's mind. It seemed wrong somehow to imagine any conversation or meeting between herself and Giles if Buffy wasn't either there in person or the subject of the conversation.

As for Spike ... while he might be acting like a Scooby team member for now, Willow was very aware that he was motivated solely by self- interest and his survival instinct. A non-bitey vampire didn't have many friends, and Willow knew that Spike's assistance (limited though it was) was obtained courtesy of Giles' regular provision of bagged blood.

These thoughts made Willow's mood even more sour. Sometimes, in her more wishful fantasies, her dream lover would bear a remarkable resemblance to the bleached blond, despite the protests of her logical mind - remember bottle in face! fangs in neck!

Reality was far from making this an issue however. Despite her best efforts at being friendly (after all, now that Buffy had Riley and Xander had Anya, Spike and Willow were the two loose ends of the group) it seemed to Willow that Spike was even ruder to her than to the rest of the gang. <Typical>, she brooded. <Even an impotent demon can't be bothered to spend time with me>. And so she ruthlessly blocked her more-than-friendly thoughts about the vampire from her mind.

As she knocked on Giles' door Willow mentally shook off her black mood, <I'll be giving Angel a battle for Brooder of the Year at this rate>, and pasted on her usual friendly Willow-smile as Giles ushered her inside with a muttered greeting.

"Yes, Willow, excellent, just in time, sit down then." As Giles fussed with a pile of papers Willow looked quickly around the room. Buffy was already seated at the table, pretending to look at books while instead gazing at Riley, who was lurking nearby looking uncomfortable. Over the protests of just about everyone (especially Spike, who was none too pleased to have to share space with one of the people who had chipped him) Buffy had invited Riley to the most recent meetings.

While trying to be as charitable as possible <it's early days yet> so far as Willow could see Riley had done absolutely nothing useful at these meetings, and his only accomplishment seemed to be distracting Buffy and ensuring that she also did nothing except flirt with him.

Willow sighed, exasperated with her own bitchy thoughts, and tried valiantly to re-create her usual positive mood. She said a cheery "hello" to Xander, who nodded in her general direction before shoveling another Twinkie into his mouth and turning his attention back to Anya, listening with a glazed look on his face as she continued what appeared to be a long and involved story from her demon glory days.

That left - Spike. He of the sculpted cheekbones and gorgeous ass - not that she'd noticed, of course. Willow held on with difficulty to her smile of welcome as Spike looked up and scowled at her.

"Perfect, the student witch is here."

Willow ignored him and sat down, forcing her gaze to Giles as he appeared to have finally finished shuffling his books and was ready to speak. Willow struggled to pay attention as Giles began to describe the latest demon that Buffy had come across on patrol. Apparently these particular demons, who could travel through portals to different dimensions, were not usually seen on this plane and Giles was concerned that they may be a sign of something amiss. So - research.

Gathering up an armful of books, Willow positioned herself next to Spike on the sofa and began to look for information. Despite herself she was hyper-aware of Spike's every movement, every twitch, every mutter as he also picked up a book and began to read about a completely irrelevant demon.

An hour later Willow had accomplished little except to work herself into a lust-crazed state, and every time that Spike moved she could not stop herself from letting her eyes drift over his fidgeting frame, imagining how cool his hands would feel against her flushed skin, and that tongue ...

Her thoughts, lustful and otherwise, came to an abrupt halt as the room around her suddenly melted away, and she found herself once again in the centre of the stone circle of her dream from this morning.

<Wow, did I really fall asleep during a research session? Buffy will never let me hear the end of this> mused Willow as she took a closer look at her surroundings. The wind dancer and dust figure were still there, but at the edge of the circle and a comfortable distance away.

There was no sign of the fire - until Willow looked down, and saw that she was on fire, her skin barely visible through a moving layer of flame.

<How beautiful> Willow thought, admiring the way the fire moved over her skin before becoming aware that the fire was sinking into her, moving below her skin to pass through muscle and settle in her bones, her heart, her brain. She could feel the fire within her, and the relentless heat, but it did not burn her.

Willow felt the meaning of the dream to be just beyond reach, and she watched with interest as the other two figures came slowly closer. She moved towards them, reaching out her seemingly normal hands, when a hand grabbed her shoulder.

Startled, she looked around to find herself once again in Giles' home, with the others oblivious to her. Except for Spike, who started tosay something (unpleasant, judging from the look in his eyes) only to stop with his mouth open and a surprised look on his face as his eyes caught hers.

"What?" said Willow irritably, as she shrugged his hand off her shoulder, while shivers ran down her spine from the sensation of his hand on her, skin separated by only thin layers of cotton.

Spike looked puzzled as he again looked at her face, as if searching for something. Shaking his head, and without saying a word, Spike stood and headed for the door, responding to Giles half spoken reproach with a brusque "That's it for me pets, things to do, you know" as he slammed the door behind him

Giving Willow another reason to brood, as she did her best to ignore fiery dreams and lust inducing vampires and focus instead on research.

~Part: 3~
Monday night

Buffy and Riley insisted on walking Willow back to the dorm, and she knew enough of what goes bump in the night to be grateful for the company. As she walked Willow tried to ignore the strange sensations she was experiencing - it was as if she could see forms moving around her, not with her eyes but with her mind's eye. As she viewed these half seen, pale coloured forms they seemed like mist, coalescing and then dispersing. Willow was again aware of the sensation of power within her, of a restrained fire ready to burst free.

She was starting to get concerned - these feelings were getting harder to dismiss, and Willow was worried about what would happen when she slept tonight. As they approached the dorms, Willow looked at Buffy and tried to think of a way to ask her to stay tonight, but after enduring several of Buffy's lectures about independence in the post-Oz days, she did not want to irritate her friend by being too clingy.

As Willow struggled for the right words, Buffy said a cheery good-bye and headed off with Riley to spend some quality time patrolling with him. Willow knew that meant Buffy would not be returning to their room tonight, but she refused to be frightened - after all, she had faced an ascending Mayor, vampires, re-animated Inca mummy princesses and numerous other Hellmouth nasties - no dream was going to get to her.

<Yep, you bet>, she told herself as she prepared for bed. <Just a bad dream, all finished now, tonight it's bunny rabbits and fluffy kitten dreams for me>.And still muttering such reassuring words, she got into bed and almost immediately fell asleep.

Willow opened her eyes and was unsurprised to find herself back in the stone circle. She looked at her usual companions, and having little hope of getting much useful information out of a wind spiral she turned to Dust Boy.

"Hello", she said - <no need to forget my manners> she thought, and reflected on her luck in having a dream voice. Her constant inner conversation was interrupted by the response of the dust figure, who did not seem to share Willow's views on the importance of social pleasantries.

"It has begun", the voice stated, in a bass rumble. Just as Willow was about to ask what exactly had begun, the voice continued. "Perform the rite and form the circle. Choose carefully. Follow the path of the Servants of Gaia".

As he finished speaking Willow saw the wind spiral draw closer to her, its cool touch creating a delicious balance with the fire still burning in her veins. She closed her eyes to better enjoy the sensation, and heard the dust creatures voice boom again, "Choose well," but this time the voice seemed to be distant, and when Willow opened her eyes again she found herself back in her dorm room. A breeze came through the open window, and the feeling of the wind caressing her skin provided an all too vivid reminder of her dream.

<At least that one was a bit more useful> she thought, pondering the words of Dust Boy. <But who or what is a servant of Gaia?> Still, she now had some concrete information, and she was also certain that these dreams had some deeper meaning, and were not merely the ramblings of her sub-conscious.

A glance at her clock showed that it was barely 3am, but Willow felt totally wired. She couldn't call Giles, but maybe the Net could provide some answers. After checking at the best of the Wiccan and magic sites, she was somewhat the wiser. There were vague references to the Servants of Gaia, who apparently were a coven of powerful witches, yet the few pieces of information she had found had been in the demon sections, which led to an obvious conclusion that she was not very keen to draw.

Having gathered more food for thought, Willow shut down her computer and saw it was just past 4am. She could feel the walls of her room closing in on her, and anxious to quieten the mutterings of her over- excited brain she got dressed, grabbed her Hellmouth survival kit - holy water, cross and stake - and headed out, hoping a quick walk would help to clear her thoughts.

Leaving the campus behind, Willow headed towards a nearby park, deliberately choosing a route that would avoid cemeteries and other vampire hot-spots. She wanted to walk, but despite the stake clutched in her hand she had no desire to test her meager fighting skills. Sometimes she envied Buffy her strength - it was not easy always being the weak one. Willow felt the others often saw her as a liability when fighting. Even Xander sometimes did patrols with Buffy, but Willow couldn't remember the last time she had been invited. It wasn't that she actually wanted to fight, but those pre-dawn walks with Buffy had provided lots of opportunities for heart-to-heart talks - the kind that had become almost non-existent in recent months.

Willow was drawn from her musings by the certain sensation that she was being followed. She could feel the presence, and she knew immediately that it was a vampire. She took hold of her cross in her free hand, the other gripping her stake so hard that her knuckles were white.

She continued walking, trying to work out her best escape route. However she knew her time was running out as she felt the presence draw close behind her. Gathering her courage, she spun around and thrust her cross in the face of the vampire who was almost within arm's reach.

In full game face, the vampire was momentarily startled, but before Willow had time to take advantage of his shock he had recovered, and so fast that it was only a blur his right hand shot out and punched Willow full in the face. The force was sufficient to knock her to the ground, and her head hit the pavement with an audible thud. As Willow tried to focus her eyes, she felt the vampire sit astride her chest, holding both of her arms above her head with one of his hands while the other moved her head to a better angle, exposing the long line of her neck to his appreciative glance.

Two things occurred to Willow simultaneously: her hands were empty, and she was in seriously deep shit. But despite the limited hope available to her, Willow was nothing if not a fighter, and she began wriggling furiously, trying to buck the vampire off her. She soon stopped when the vampire leered, saying to her "So you want to play? Keep that up and you're going to die afterwards, instead of now".

As his crotch was practically in her face, she had little doubt as to the meaning of his words, the large lump under his jeans being sufficient explanation. Willow suddenly felt numb - surely after everything she had been through she was not going to die like this, at the hands of some slobbering fledgling, alone in a park while the residents of Sunnydale slept peacefully nearby? <Where's a Slayer when you need one?> Willow thought sadly, as she felt cold fingers grab the back of her head and arch her neck, and elongated fangs sliced through the thin skin and began to messily suck out her life blood.

Willow could feel herself becoming light-headed, and she was suddenly conscious again of the sensation of a fire within. Time seemed to slow - the vampire was still slurping at her neck, and Willow realised she had felt the fire ever since her latest dream; she was becoming so used to the sensation that it had not consciously registered, the same as she did not normally notice that she was breathing, or that her heart was pumping.

However she now focused on the sensation of the warmth within, and was somehow comforted by it as her vision began to dim. Suddenly through the fog that had settled over her she realised that the fangs had withdrawn from her neck. She heard a blood-curdling scream, saw what appeared to be a bright flash of light, and then her face was covered in dust. <Just what I need, a visit from Dust Boy> Willow thought as she tried unsuccessfully to stay conscious, before finally succumbing to the darkness.

~Part: 4~
Tuesday early morning

Willow was cold, and uncomfortable. She shifted slightly, trying to find a better position, and felt a rock dig into her hip. <A rock?> Willow forced one eye open, and instead of the dorm room she was expecting saw pavement and grass. Recent events flooded back, and Willow struggled into a sitting position.

Her mouth was unbearably dry, and just that small movement was enough to cause her head to spin. She could feel that the top of her dress was wet, and looked down to see that it was covered in blood. She lifted a shaking hand to her neck, to find with relief that the bleeding seemed to have stopped.

Dawn had not yet arrived, so she could not have been unconscious for long. She calculated it was about a 20 minute walk back to the dorm - there was no way she was going to be able to do that unassisted. She rubbed a hand over her dry, itchy eyes, an was momentarily dumbfounded to see that her hand came away covered in dust.

She remembered her final sensations before losing consciousness. Judging from the blood and the throbbing pain in her neck, the vampire had been very real, and as he had stopped before draining her and she was covered in ash, she could only presume that someone - or something - had staked her attacker. But why would they just leave her lying there unconscious? Perhaps it had been the Initiative, and they left her there to ensure she did not see them? Willow's head was throbbing , and she resolutely cleared her mind of everything except the central question - how was she going to get back to the dorm?

Clearly she could not walk by herself. The nearest houses were about 200 metres away - doubted that she could walk that far, and doubted even more that a Sunnydale resident would willingly open their door during the night to a blood and dust stained figure.

Just as she was starting to ponder other options, she again felt the sensation of a vampire approaching. thought Willow almost cheerfully as she looked around her for the cross and stake she had dropped earlier.

Gathering the recovered items up, Willow decided that even for the Hellmouth the events of her life were becoming ridiculously surreal - cryptic dreams, vampire attacks, mysterious rescuers and now a Slayer sense. <Perhaps I caught it off Buffy, like measles?> she asked herself as she prepared for the vampire's arrival. It was coming towards her through some nearby trees, so she could not yet see it, but she was sure it was alone. Even so, she knew that she had little chance of escaping in her weakened state. The sky seemed to be growing lighter, so she could only pray that dawn would save her. < Goddess, please, some good luck for change> she thought, as the vampire emerged from the bushes.

And her prayers were answered, for the new arrival raised a scarred eyebrow and drawled "Bloody hell, what's going on 'ere then?"

Willow honestly thought she had never been so glad to see anyone. Ignoring the curious and mocking gleam in his eyes as he surveyed her bedraggled appearance, Willow used her best casual tone to politely request that he help her back to her dorm - as if she were engaged in a social conversation rather than sitting on the pavement, covered in vampire dust and her own blood with a huge bite mark showing clearly on her neck.

Spike continued to gaze at Willow after her request, and reviewed his options. There was no way he could take her back to her dorm - it was nearly dawn and from the look of her he would have to carry the redhead most of the way. His crypt was nearby, but that meant he would likely be stuck with her all day, as he did not have any way to call another Scooby for help from his crypt and the daylight would keep him from fetching anyone.

Reluctant despite himself to simply leave her there, Spike pulled Willow to her feet, and half-supported, half-dragged her towards the nearby cemetery, cursing under his breath and ignoring her half-hearted protests.

His steps speeded up as he felt dawn draw closer, and he unceremoniously shoved Willow inside his crypt as he ensured the door was properly closed, cutting out the direct sunlight but allowing enough filtered light to illuminate the room. That done, he turned to survey the sorry sight before him. Spike had often imagined having Willow in his crypt, but in those dreams, woven through the long boring hours when daylight kept him a prisoner, Willow was usually a leather-clad sex siren rather than the crumpled mess who sat pathetically on the ground at his feet.

Spike sighed loudly and unnecessarily, drawing a hurt look from Willow, as he tried to decide on the best course of action. The wound on her neck was a mess - it had stopped bleeding but it was filthy, it looked like she had rubbed dirt into it. Deciding this was the best place to start, Spike headed to the box that held his meagre possessions and pulled out a half-full bottle of cheap whiskey and a clean black T-shirt.

Then he squatted next to Willow, using the T-shirt to wipe her face clean before examining her neck. "This is going to hurt, but there's no water here and you need to clean up that wound. Alright?" Willow nodded hesitantly, then closed her eyes and bared her neck.

Spike took in the intoxicating sight before him, and breathed deeply, the smell of her blood causing his eyes to flicker with gold. He felt his head bend as if by its own will, and almost without conscious thought his tongue traced a lazy path through the congealed blood surrounding the wound. The tastebuds on his tongue screamed with pleasure as the sweet ambrosia filled his mouth.

It had been months since he had tasted human blood, and Willow's blood was better than most - sweet with the taste of near-virginity and youth, and spicy from the magic that lingered in her veins. There was something else too, a taste both familiar yet unrecognisable ... Spike continued to suckle at the partly healed wound as he tried to focus solely on the pleasure of this action he had been denied so long. Soon the blood on her neck had all been licked off, and despite pressing his tongue against the wound itself no further blood was forthcoming.

Spike growled his displeasure, shifting Willow's slight form (which had somehow ended up on his lap) and continued to lick at her neck, his growls giving way to purrs of pleasure as he enjoyed the almost as good sensation of warm skin under his tongue, with the taste of rich red blood kept away only by the thinnest of membranes.

So caught up was he in these pleasures that he had lost sight of where he was and why Willow was there, but Willow was very aware of her surroundings. She couldn't believe that she had uttered not one word of protest as Spike had licked - LICKED! - her neck clean.

She had often imagined what that tongue would feel like against her skin, but even her most heated fantasies were nothing compared to the reality of his cool, rough tongue sliding against her heated skin as he moaned and sucked at the blood on her neck. While he played his hands were stroking her back, causing shivers to run the length of Willow's body then drop to gather into the growing heat between her thighs. She could feel the forgotten bottle of whiskey wedged against one thigh, while the other was pressed against Spike's body. She was very aware of the growing hardness rubbing against her, and she could feel her panties becoming soaked with the evidence of her response.

Willow was half-convinced this was just another of her lust-induced fantasies, except that usually she was dressed a lot better and the setting was a bit more romantic than the dirt floor of a crypt. This was just one strange event too many, and she decided she had had enough with trying to maintain her nice-girl image while everything around her went frosm bad to worse to only-on-the-Hellmouth.

Listening to Spike growl as he fruitlessly licked her neck in search of more blood, Willow decided enough was enough. Spike had gotten what he wanted - and thoroughly enjoyed it from the feel of the huge bulge pressed hard against her - and now she was going to get what she wanted. Listening to the fire humming in her veins, Willow smiled and decided that a randy vampire might be exactly what the doctor ordered.

~Part: 5~
Tuesday morning

Even afterwards Spike was not exactly sure how it had happened. One minute he was happily sitting on the ground with a warm-blooded redhead cuddled against him, while he licked her beautiful throat with long, slow strokes.

The next minute he was flat on his back with a very happy looking witch astride him, regarding him with a hungry gleam in her eyes that sent a shiver through his long-dead heart.

His mind leapt back to the earlier research party. He had seen Willow's eyes glaze over, and as the others had continued with their own research he had been unable to resist the temptation to shake the witch awake, ready to cut her with one of his many barbed comments.

He didn't even know himself why Willow was so often the target of his sarcasm - after all, she was usually the only one who made an attempt to be nice to him, and to be honest she was the only one he could actually stand to talk to. Maybe it was that, and her increasingly frequent appearances in his X-rated fantasies, that led him to be even more rude to her than to the other Scoobies.

Whatever the reason, his smart comment had died on his lips as Willow had roused herself from her stupor and looked him straight in the eyes. Because for one brief moment, Spike had seen not the clear emerald gaze he was so familiar with, but eyes glowing gold. Not the yellow-gold eyes of his own demon, but a red-gold fire that hinted at a power he could feel suddenly surround him like a cloud.

Then she had blinked, and when he looked again her eyes showed only the curious green gaze of a cat. Still he had made his escape, trying to decide whether he had imagined the whole thing.

And now - the beautiful woman sitting confidently on his chest was giving off power in waves, and he knew he had not imagined that earlier encounter.

Feeling suddenly nervous, Spike wriggled slightly, which only caused a predatory grin to appear on Willow's face. "Oh yes, I see what he meant. Do it again," Willow commanded.

Spike, having no idea what she was talking about, decided it was time to make it clear who was in charge, and used his vampire strength to buck her body off him.

Except Willow, impossibly, was still astride him, and now he could smell the rich aroma of her arousal as she purred, rubbing herself slowly up and down the bulge in his jeans. Unsure what to do next, and enjoying the friction too much to want it to stop, Spike decided to lay back and see what the witch had in mind.

Willow saw the acceptance on his face as Spike stopped squirming and instead lay still as she continued the delicious friction. However the itch was getting worse not better, and she could feel the same impatience growing in Spike as he thrust his hips up to increase the pressure as their bodies rubbed together.

Unable to fight the fire gathering within, Willow suddenly stood and pulled off her blood-stained dress and saturated panties. She saw Spike's eyes glaze over as he stared up at her, and she was surprised that she felt no embarrassment. Only Oz had ever seen her naked before, and when she had been with him Willow had been covered with blushes and beset by insecurities.

But with Spike she had no such scruples. She knew she was desirable - she could see the proof of it on Spike's face, and even more tangible evidence was the growing wet patch on the front of his jeans from the pre-cum leaking from his tortured member.

Willow involuntarily licked her lips as she watched his cock straining against the confining jeans, and she smiled when she heard Spike groan. Kneeling down, she slowly undid his zip, watching with wide eyes as his cock sprang free. The fire within her burnt out of control as her approving eyes ran down his length, noting his size. Willow ran her thumb lightly over the gleaming head, then slowly sucked his digit clean, enjoying his unique taste and earning another, more dangerous sounding growl from her captive.

Ignoring Spike's growing impatience, Willow moved astride once more and slowly rubbed her sopping slit along his length. She closed her eyes at the marvelous sensation - so cool and hard, while she was so hot and wet. After a few minutes of this she decided that she had teased them both enough, and with one hand she gently lifted his cock, positioning his tip at her entrance, and before Spike had time to adjust his position she moved quickly down, taking his full length inside her and this time bringing a groan to both their lips.

Spike felt his control snap as Willow engulfed his cock inside herself. His hands reached up to grab her hips, and he held her firmly in place as he rolled them over, leaving Willow on her back with her legs wrapped around his hips. Spike thought he had never seen anyone look so beautiful - or so fuckable. With her eyes closed and her head flung back, Willow rocked her hips in encouragement

Spike needed no further coaxing, slamming into her with a rhythm that had them both gasping for more. Spike was lost in pleasure, only vaguely aware of other sensations - the breathy groans of the woman beneath him, the feel of her smooth hands grasping his hips to pull him into her even harder, and above all the incredible heat and tightness that was clutching at his painfully hard cock.

As he thrust harder into her, Spike felt her inner muscles begin to spasm as her orgasm hit her and with a growl Spike felt his demon emerge as he neared his own release. His golden eyes met Willow's green gaze as she put her hand to her neck and raked her fingernails over the healing bite mark, causing fresh blood to flow from the wound. Spike fastened his lips around the marks, sucking feverishly as he exploded into his own orgasm, flooding her with his cool seed as he slowly continued to thrust, reluctantly coming down from his high.

He rolled to one side, drawing Willow into his arms and felt the need for sleep become overwhelming. As he drifted off he was aware of feeling strange; with all the heat Willow was giving off he felt warm himself, something he had not been for many decades.

Willow felt Spike relax as he fell asleep. She was rejuvenated but confused. She was unable to grasp how she, Willow, net-girl and research buddy, had somehow seduced - no, attacked - a vampire. OK, a non-bitey vampire, but still! And not just any vampire, but one who had tried to kill her and her friends on several occasions, and had often stated his desire of perfecting his technique once he was de- chipped.

Pushing her thoughts aside and trying to instead simply enjoy the feel of his cold flesh against her, Willow was more irritated than surprised to feel the sensation fade as the dark surrounds of the crypt were replaced by the now familiar stone circle. This time however she was alone - at least until she saw a familiar figure walking towards her from the shadows that encircled her.

"Ms Calendar?" Willow said incredulously. <Could this get any weirder?> Remembering her previous state of dream undress, Willow frantically looked down and was reassured to see that she was dressed, as was her companion.

"Hello child. I have been chosen as your guide for what is ahead. I am not your dead friend, but I have adopted her form to make this as simple as possible for you."

<Simple??> Willow had nearly reached her breaking point. She had plenty to deal with in her real, awake life without this being added in.

"Look, whoever you are, I think you may have the wrong person. I mean, maybe you should try Buffy - she's a Slayer, she has lots of weird dreams. Or - you know, I'll bet Giles would love this dream, I mean think of the hours of research he could spend ..."

Willow trailed off as she looked at the apparition wearing the face of a departed friend, and she noticed the cold, glassy, non-human eyes gazing back at her. "Your fears and uncertainties are natural, but you must overcome them. It has begun," said Ms Calendar's voice without inflection, as Willow suddenly found herself once more held tight in Spike's protective embrace.

Gently extricating herself from the vampire's sleeping form, Willow took one look at her discarded clothing before commandeering Spike's T-shirt and jeans. She just hoped she got back to the dorm before anyone saw her, or she would really have a lot of explaining to do.

There was just one thought in her mind:

~Part 6~
Tuesday afternoon

It was late afternoon by the time Willow knocked on Giles' door. There had been no sign of Buffy at the dorm, just a message on the answering machine saying that Riley had two days leave from his Initiative duties so Buffy would be staying with him until he was back on duty.

Willow had spent most of the day lost in thought. She almost felt as though she were going mad - she could not explain why she had acted in that way with Spike. OK, so she might sometimes wish in her fantasies that she could be a dominating sex goddess, but in reality - it just wasn't her.

Also, how had she survived last night's attack? If someone - or something - had staked the vampire who had been draining her, who was it? And why had they simply left her there?

Willow was also concerned about her dreams. She had had enough of them by now to have to take them seriously. But what was it all about? And why her?

Willow was conscious that the dreams had made some tangible changes in her. She could still feel the heat flowing through her, and she could somehow sense people around her - even without seeing or hearing them, like with the vampires last night.

And most of all, at the bottom of all her concerns, was the suggestion that the Servants of Gaia mentioned in her dream could be demons - and that they could somehow be connected to her.

These worries had been enough to land her on Giles' doorstep, with little idea of what she would tell him but knowing that if anyone could help unravel her dream it was the former Watcher.

Giles opened the door and looked vaguely surprised to see Willow standing there. "Willow! Ah, come in, come in. Is everything alright?"

And with that Willow found herself pouring out her heart to Giles, telling him about the dreams, the strange sensations she had been feeling, and the vampire attack last night. She even stammered out about Ms Calendar's appearance in her dream. She left out any reference to Spike, but even so Giles looked overwhelmed by the time her monologue rambled to a close.

Gils slowly polished his glasses before saying "The Servants of Gaia?

That sounds familiar ... I think there is a reference in Von Menken's Compendium." And so Giles switched into research mode, accepting everything Willow had said without question, it never occurring to him that she would say anything other than the truth. And by his actions he proved to Willow that she had one true friend at least, who was able to accept her as she was and who was willing to help her in times of need. Together they dug out the most promising books, and started to research.

Nearly two hours later Giles and Willow faced each other over Giles' dining table, two books lying open between them. Giles face was set with determination, Willow simply looked shocked.

"Perhaps the dream came to the wrong person, like misdirected mail," Willow said tentatively. Giles simply peered at her over his glasses, saying reprovingly "I think not," in such final tones that Willow fell silent.

"What we need to do now is get hold of the book which these texts refer to, as that seems our best chance of learning more of the necessary details for the ritual."

"Do you know where we can get it?" Willow asked.

"Well, I know who has a copy, but he will not be eager to surrender it. I think the best thing is if you go yourself. We can't afford to waste any time judging from the speed with which the dreams are occurring."

While Willow sat fidgeting at the table, her dazed eyes running over the passages before her, Giles rifled through his address book before finding the number he needed and picking up the phone.

"Yes, hello? Yes, good afternoon Cordelia, this is Giles. Yes, very well thank you, actually ... Yes, yes, I see, however if I could speak to Wesley?" After a brief pause, Giles spoke again. "Yes, good afternoon Wesley, it's Rupert Giles ... Actually there is something, I wanted to know whether you still have that copy of Forenza's "Legend of the Servants"? ... Excellent. I was going to send Willow to collect it if I may, of course she will treat it with the utmost care ... I'm afraid I can't really discuss it at the moment ... Wonderful, this evening I should think. Let me write the address down ... Yes, of course, I do appreciate it, good bye."

"So," said Willow, breaking the silence, "I'm off to LA then?"

"Yes, just get the book and then come back. I will continue to research here, but I am certain that the Forenza book will be fundamental to understanding the relevant ritual."

"Why don't you just get Wesley to bring it himself? Or get Angel to bring it?"

Giles looked at her impatiently, then explained in his most ponderous voice: "I don't want Wesley to get involved. The less people who know about this the better. And while he obviously knows that something is going on from our need for the book, he will not discover anything more specific if he is safely in LA. As for Angel - Wesley knows enough about the book and its contents that he would never surrender it to a demon, even one with a soul. So you will have to bring it here, and I hope I have made it clear that you should act with speed and discretion."

"OK, except for one thing."

"Yes," said Giles testily, anxious to get back to his books.

"I can't drive."

~Part 7~
Tuesday night

And so it was that Willow found herself at dusk in the unspeakably awkward position of knocking at Spike's door, under instructions from Giles to offer him $100 to drive her to LA then back with the book.

She had protested the idea, but was unable to come up with an argument to convince Giles to change his plan - no doubt saying "I just had wild sex with him this morning in his crypt and I would rather not spend two hours in a confined space with him" would have worked, but after the revelations of the afternoon she felt that they had both had more than enough in the way of alarming discoveries without disclosing that tidbit.

<Although it might almost have been worth it, just to see the look on his face> Willow thought cheekily as she knocked again, this time with more force. <Just my luck, to prepare myself for the most excruciatingly embarrassing experience of my life, only to->

Her inner conversation was interrupted by the sudden inward swing of the crypt door, and Spike's unreadable face emerged from the shadows.

"Back for more already, pet?" he asked in his most snide voice.

Willow felt her resolve crumble. she thought despairingly, as she decided there was no point in beating around the bush.

"I need to go to LA to pick something up for Giles, here is $100" and she pushed the money into one hand "and the keys to Giles car," and she pushed the keys into his other hand. "We need to leave now, and we should be back well before dawn."

Then she put on her best resolve face and simply stared at him.

Spike felt torn between applauding her nerve and putting her over his knee and spanking her. Quickly shaking off the fog of lust that followed that second mental image, Spike focused instead on his sense of righteous anger.

First of all he had helped her - he could have just left her in the park after all. Then she practically flaunted her bleeding neck in front of a poor starved vampire, threw him down on the ground and screwed his brains out - then she disappeared without a word, leaving him trapped by the daylight trying to work out what the hell had happened, and how a not very successful witch (who happened to also be a very sexy red head) had managed to give him the ride of his un-life.

And now here she was, just as he was preparing to track her down and either screw her into unconsciousness or at least get some answers - or preferably both.

Looking at the cash in his hands, Spike shoved it into his duster pocket, then he swung the keys lazily from one finger as he purred "Well, off we go then pet," enjoying the look of suspicion and confusion that met his gaze as Willow turned and followed him into the night.

~Part 8~
Tuesday night

Inside the cramped confines of Giles' Citroen the tension mounted steadily as both Spike and Willow remained obstinately silent, waiting for the other to speak. Finally Willow could stand it no more, and she decided that as she was already as embarrassed as it was possible to be, she had nothing to lose.

"Anyway," she said, causing Spike's gaze to jerk towards her in surprise as the silence was suddenly broken, "I just wanted, you know, to thank you for getting me out of the park last night, uh, I know you didn't have to help me and it was, um, I mean I didn't really know - "

Spike cut her off in mid-babble with a curt nod and a "You're welcome pet, anytime."

They looked at each other for a brief moment before Spike's gaze returned to the road, and he mused "Well, let's see, what shall we talk about now? Maybe how the Slayer's bestest friend ended up as a late night vampire snack? Or our urgent trip to get a book for a bloke who seems to have more than enough already? Or maybe what the hell happened this morning?"

Willow gulped and decided that option one sounded safest, so she told Spike the story of her ill-fated night time ramble. Spike grunted to himself at the stupidity of anyone, let alone someone who knew as much as Willow did about Sunnydale's non-human residents, taking a stroll after dark, but kept his thoughts to himself as Willow finished her tale with the mysterious demise of her attacker.

"Did you hear anyone else?" Spike queried.

"I don't think so, I mean I was barely conscious so I guess a stealthy person could have done it and I wouldn't have heard anything. Maybe it was the Initiative?"

Despite his personal hatred of the soldiers Spike thought it was unlikely that they would leave a human to bleed to death, but he couldn't think of anyone else who would want to save a human from a vampire - except the Slayer of course, and there was no way that she would simply fade off discretely into the background.

No, more likely Bitchy would have T-shirts made: "I saved Willow!" Spike grinned despite himself at the idea of the Scoobies wearing their matching T-shirts at the next research meeting, then remembered his initial problem with the whole scenario.

"What the bloody hell were you doing walking by yourself in the first place?" Spike growled at his companion.

Willow looked at him helplessly. She was still reeling from her recent discussion with Giles, and needed more time to think about his revelations before she could discuss it with anyone - although for some reason it did not even occur to her that it was strange that she would consider confiding in Spike before Buffy or Xander.

But on the other hand she didn't want to break the mood between them, as she felt as though they were creating a rapport that, if she were honest, she would very much like to build on. She was certain that Spike would not take too kindly to being brushed off, and she was too terrible a liar to consider trying to fool him. So she decided instead on a heavily edited version of the truth.

Spike watched with interest as a multitude of expressions flickered over her face. It was abundantly clear to him that he was not going to get the full story, and he wondered what exactly it was that Willow was hiding.

"Um, well, OK, I have been having some weird dreams lately and I had another one last night, it was, you know, disturbing and I was kind of upset and I couldn't sleep, so I decided some fresh air might clear my mind."

Spike pondered her words for a few minutes before asking cautiously, "So, would these dreams have anything to do with Giles' sudden need for this book?"

Willow gazed at him with wide eyes as she nervously twirled a strand of hair around her finger. She settled for a simple "Yes" as she turned her head to look out the window at the passing buildings as they neared their destination. She prayed to whoever was listening that they would arrive before the conversation headed any closer to dangerous territory.

Unfortunately Spike had no intention of letting her off the hook that easily. He suddenly pulled the car to a halt at the side of the road, and said to her: "Well, since you don't seem to want to talk about our secret mission, that just leaves our little encounter this morning. Want to tell me what that was all about?"

Willow went in a heartbeat from embarrassment to indignation. "What do you mean, what was that about? Don't tell me in over a century you never had meaningless sex before?"

"Sure I have kitten, I'm the original lay-'em and drain-'em king. But since when have you developed a taste for bad boys?"

Willow was torn between arguing just for the sake of trying to put him in his place, and a desire to take a risk and actually try to explain what had happened. So she wavered, until she decided that someone who had spent as much time as Spike with a sanity-challenged vampiress should be better able than most to understand a woman's mood swings.

"I do not have a thing for bad boys," she sniffed haughtily. Then her face lost its momentary poise to reveal her uncertainty as she said, "I just, well, you know, you are very attractive in an evil, I'm going to kill you way, and, well, I have needs too you know!"

Spike couldn't control the grin that broke out at her words, and he leant over to purr in her ear, "Pet, anytime you have "needs" you just let me know and I'll be happy to help out." Encouraged by Willow's outraged look, he added, "Anyway, even if I did kill you, you wouldn't stay dead for long."

And with that Spike started the engine again, leaving Willow to reflect on whether her life could get any stranger now that a death threat qualified as a compliment. And she sat quietly, with a small grin on her face, as they covered the final kilometres to the address that Wesley had given Giles.

~Part 9~
Tuesday night cont.

Willow knocked on the door, reassured by the "Angel Investigations" sign that she was at the right place despite there being no signs of life. <Although,> she mused,

She smiled to herself as Spike continued to swear under his breath. He was none too keen on visiting his grand-sire again, and was not expecting a warm welcome given the circumstances of their last meeting. He only hoped that Willow's presence would be sufficient to save him from being staked on sight.

He ran his fingers over the dollars stuffed in his pocket, and decided he would try one more time to persuade Willow to let him wait in the car -

Before he could make his plea, they heard the locks click as the door was opened, and both looked into the wary brown eyes of Angel.

"Willow, I see you brought company," Angel said, his face expressionless as he moved aside to let them enter. Conscious of the unlikelihood of this becoming a tender reunion - after all, she and Angel were not exactly the best of friends, and from what Spike had told her his last meeting with Angel would not have left the older vampire looking forward to seeing his grand-childe again - Willow decided that the best approach was to grab the book and leave, so she looked around Angel's office to see if Wesley was there. He wasn't.

"Did Wesley leave the book with you? Cos Giles asked me to bring it back as fast as possible," Willow said, abandoning tact and hoping to extricate Spike before he said or did anything untoward.

"Wesley has gone to get it from a friend who has been storing some of his things for him. He should be back soon" said Angel as he viewed the increasingly nervous behaviour of the pair in front of him.

He was not sure what he should do. He could smell the evidence of their earlier liaison, and he was surprised to say the least that Willow, who he remembered as the embodiment of sweetness and innocence, would for some reason have chosen his murderous off-spring for a lover. Yet clearly she had consented, and also cared for Spike judging by the way she was trying to keep him safe from Angel.

Angel could also smell the faint scent of Willow's blood, and as she moved around the office fidgeting with his meagre belongings he saw the bite mark partly concealed under her collar - but it was not Spike's mark. Curiouser and curiouser.

Angel was also quietly intrigued by Wesley's behaviour after this afternoon's phone call from Giles. He had told Angel that Willow was coming to pick up a book, and Wesley had then excused himself for a few hours, returning looking flushed and nervous, and advising Angel that he would go and collect the book and would return shortly. That had been over three hours ago.

As it seemed they could be in for a long wait, Angel decided at least he could use his time to make sure that Willow was OK. He had always admired her, and had often thought that Buffy did not appreciate how lucky she was to have such a loyal and devoted friend, one who had countless times risked her own safety to help Buffy, and who had received little thanks for her efforts as far as he could tell.

But then again he was hardly in a position to talk. One of the greatest sorrows that Angel had from his years in Sunnydale was that he had never found a way to thank Willow for restoring his soul. Somehow the time had never seemed right, and he could not find the words to convey just what a gift she had given him.

Angel decided that fate was giving him another chance. Clearly Willow had gotten herself into some kind of trouble; Angel decided that this would be his chance to help Willow and repay the debt he owed her. And if it meant he could at the same time cause some grief to Spike - then so much the better.

"We could be waiting for a while. Let's go downstairs, I can get you some coffee if you like" said Angel as he waved the pair into the lift. He concealed his amusement at the way that Willow kept her body between him and Spike, and as the lift came to a stop he pulled the door open and ushered them into his apartment.

Spike raised a mocking eyebrow at the decor and drawled "Sticking with the winter tones I see." Angel ignored him and asked Willow if she wanted something to eat.

"Do you have anything?" Willow asked, surprised.

"I try, but it seems to get eaten faster than I can buy it" said Angel as Willow made her way toward the kitchenette to see what she could find.

Spike and Angel remained gazing at each other, before Spike took matters into his own hands, settling himself in what was obviously Angel's armchair and propping his feet on the table. "This is the prime brooding seat then mate?" queried Spike as he steepled his fingers under his chin in imitation of Angel's favourite "thinking" pose.

Angel took a step towards Spike, reasoning that the Powers would probably thank him for beating some sense into Spike, when he was distracted by Willow re-entering the room to inquire of Spike "There's blood - are you hungry?"

At Spike's nod Willow left again to prepare their respective snacks, leaving Angel to ponder how Spike had ended up with someone who seemed to regard blood-in-a-mug as a normal meal, while he had spent his entire relationship with Buffy pretending to be human, trying to shield her from the reality of his demon nature.

Or maybe, he thought for the thousandth time, trying to fool himself as to what he really was. Angel shook himself mentally, determined to stop brooding about his own problems and try to focus on his mission - helping Willow.

He glanced over at Spike to see the blonde smirking at him, only too aware that Angel had slipped into brood-mode. Luckily any smart remark that Spike may have planned was halted by Willow's re-emergence with a mug of blood, a cup of coffee and a sandwich. Handing the mug to Spike, she settled herself on the sofa and started to eat.

After finishing half her sandwich, Willow broke the silence that had descended by asking Angel "Do you think that Wesley will be much longer?" As she spoke she glanced at Spike, drinking his blood in full demon face with much ostentatious slurping and licking of lips. She frowned at him reprovingly before looking back at Angel to see he was watching their exchange with interest.

"I'm not sure. Are you still practicing magic? I have some rare spell books you can have a look at while you wait if you like."

Willow's face brightened at the possibility of having something non- threatening to occupy her mind, and she nodded eagerly as Angel led her to his study, leaving Spike to gaze at their departing forms suspiciously, wondering what his ever manipulative grand-sire was planning.

The whole soul issue was just a smoke screen in Spike's opinion - Angel or Angelus, they both knew how to get what they wanted.

~Part 10~
Tuesday night cont.

As Willow entered the study, with Angel close behind, she let her eyes roam over the many intriguing objects that met her eyes - dusty books, gleaming weapons, a CD player set discretely in a corner, small statuettes tucked away in various niches and half a dozen charcoal sketches on the wall. This was a room that actually suggested Angel spent some time here, unlike the more impersonal main room of the apartment.

Waiting for Angel to show her the magic books, Willow noticed that he seemed to be struggling to say something. He opened his mouth only to close it again as he shifted uneasily from foot to foot.

"Angel?" Willow said gently. She doubted she wanted to hear whatever it was that he had to say; after all, she had seen the looks he had been exchanging with Spike and had no doubt she was about to get some kind of warning.

But on the other hand, Angel knew Spike better than anyone (except Drusilla, of course) so maybe he would have some insight into exactly what was going on, because Willow would very much like to know.

"Look, Willow, I know that you probably don't feel very comfortable discussing this with me, but even though we haven't been that close I consider you a friend, and I want you to know that you can always feel free to discuss, um, things with me that maybe you wouldn't feel comfortable discussing with your other friends."

"You mean, my other human friends," Willow said innocently, mentally cheering as Angel was struck momentarily speechless.

Angel was taken aback by her comment, thinking for a brief moment that she was throwing his demonic nature in his face - as he so often did to himself. But then he noticed the teasing gleam in her eyes, and the poorly concealed smirk on her face.

"You really have been spending too much time with Spike," Angel replied without thinking how his comment would sound.

Willow paled, and the amusement left her face as she prepared herself for The Lecture. "Come on, then," she said flatly, "Let's hear it. You know you want to."

Angel decided, despite the poor start, that he had better take the opportunity to try to discover what exactly was going on. "Willow, does Buffy know that you and Spike have, ah, are having sex?"

This time Willow welcomed the feeling of the fire within her boiling to the surface.

"For your information, Mr Leave-My-True-Love-Because-It's-Just-Too- Hard, Spike and I are not "having sex". We had sex once, yes, and we may have it again - I certainly hope so because it seems to me that Spike at least has spent the last century acquiring skills a bit more useful than moping and brooding. And if I am lucky enough to be at the receiving end of his very welcome attentions, I do not see that it is any business of yours. Or Buffy's!"

By the end of her outburst Willow's voice had reached a yell, and Angel was very aware that Spike would have heard most, if not all of her speech.

Angel felt his demon struggle for control, eager to put both the little redhead and Spike in their place - namely under him in every sense. Angel closed his mind to his demon's siren song, and instead made another attempt to guide the conversation into less agitated waters.

Keeping his voice low, Angel said calmly, "Willow, I know better than most what a talented lover Spike can be, but he is a vampire. He may have stopped killing humans for now, but we both know that as soon as he finds a way to get that chip out of his head, and believe me that he will eventually, he will be just the same as before, killing and torturing for pleasure, and you and your friends will be at the top of his list."

Willow looked straight into Angel's earnest puppy-dog gaze, oozing sincerity and concern, and watched with interest as her right arm seemingly took on a life of its own, moving with lightening speed to land a punch directly on Angel's right shoulder.

"I can't believe this, coming from you of all people. Yes, Spike is acting differently because he has a chip, and maybe he will lose it one day, but that doesn't mean that what Spike and I have, whatever it is, is doomed. Anymore than you can never have a relationship just because one day your soul could go. I mean, of course I know the risks, but that doesn't mean I have to live in a state of fear, anymore than you do."

Angel stood still, digesting her words (and rubbing unconsciously at his shoulder - she packed quite a punch) while Willow took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

She put a hand reassuringly on Angel's arm, and said in a softer tone, "Angel, I appreciate your concern, I really do, but I am just not in the market for advice at the moment. Not about Spike, anyway. OK?"

Angel was trying to focus on her words, but the minute her hand touched his arm he felt the strangest sensation spread through his body, as though the cool, second-hand blood in his veins was being replaced by something much warmer and more exotic.

The delicious sensation captured his mind, and it seemed as though Willow's voice faded into silence as his eyes fastened involuntarily on the raw looking bite mark on her neck.

His demon used its softest and most persuasive voice: <if just her touch feels so good, imagine what her blood will taste like. You could just have a tiny sip, it won't hurt her, might even make her think twice about getting involved with a vampire.>

Willow waited for Angel to answer, then noticed the dazed look on his face and the gold flickering in his eyes. As she watched his true face emerged, and she realised that his gaze was focused on the wound on her neck.

Willow's main emotion was surprise - surprise that she felt no fear at this unexpected development. After the events of the past few days, she felt that she was becoming an unwilling expert in the field of bizarre behaviour - both hers and others.

Besides, Willow often felt sorry for Angel, sorry that he had chosen a Slayer of all people as his partner.

Buffy had once told Willow in a rare moment of intimacy that when she had had sex with Angel, Angel had stayed in his human form throughout, which Buffy seemed to consider a good thing and a sign of his devotion.

But from what Willow had managed to glean from the Watcher's Diaries, a vampire could not reach orgasm without blood being either taken or given. It was a very depressing image - Angel surreptitiously biting his own wrist and struggling to hide his true face - how bad must his life be if that counted as true happiness?

With these thoughts running through her head Willow felt herself slowly tilt her head to one side, exposing the bite mark to Angel's golden gaze. She moved her hand from his arm, running it up over his shoulder to slip it around the back of his neck, pulling his head towards her.

Willow closed her eyes as she felt Angel's tongue tentatively slide over the still sore mark, before she felt a sense of decision fill her companion as Angel shifted so that their bodies were pressed together, with one of his hands firmly holding her lower back, pushing their hips together, while the other tangled in her hair to hold her head still as his cool lips moved slowly up and down her neck.

She could feel the ridges of his face against her neck as he positioned his razor sharp fangs over her neck, sliding them into the existing puncture marks and causing her blood to flow swiftly into his mouth.

Willow could feel his erection growing against her, and she was conscious of the answering wetness between her own thighs. <What the hell is happening to me?> the logical part of her brain screamed before being swept away by her baser emotions. As he suckled at her neck Angel made soft growling noises, and slowly rocked his hips against hers, causing Willow to softly moan in response.

She was brought quickly back to reality as Angel's mouth was jerked from her neck by a very pissed-off Spike, who threw Angel to the floor before commencing to kick the fallen and still dazed vampire.

"You bastard, just keep your fucking fangs to yourself" Spike screamed as his boot made a loud thud against Angel's ribs.

As he moved to kick again, Angel's hand shot out, grabbing Spike by the ankle and causing him to lose his balance, tumbling to the floor next to Angel. Angel used the opportunity to lunge over and position himself astride Spike, punching him at will as Spike struggled to free himself.

Willow watched helplessly then felt her anger explode, and suddenly there was a bright flash. All three fell to the floor, unconscious.

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