The Pit

By Medea

Chapter Five

"Are you bloody insane?!" Spike shouted at Willow, "You'll get yourself staked!"

The three of them had argued for hours after the departure of Manuel and his subordinates. When Angel had explained that Manuel had challenged him and all those in his "clan" to a ritualized free-for-all with rights to Willow as the prize, she had gone ballistic. Her previous life had been spent as a woman in the late twentieth century, and she found the whole idea revolting.

So she resolved to fight on her own behalf in the Pit.

"This won't be the parking lot!" the blond vampire continued berating her, "The challenge is open to all comers, and believe me, they'll come. You're only part of the attraction, sweetheart. This is a chance to work off old grudges, take out competition and increase a lair's standing in the city. This is a fight for Masters, not just minions, and it won't matter to them if you get dusted in the fray!"

"Fine, so I don't matter to anyone," Willow growled, "Except to myself, which is why I have to do this! I *hate* that my fate was decided for me from the moment I was turned, and that as a minion in vampire society I have no say over what happens to me! I won't accept that!"

"You matter to Angel. You bloody well matter to *me*!" Spike hissed, shaking with emotion. "Why the fuck do you think I care so much about keeping you out of that Pit?"

Distraught, the blond vampire spun away from her and stalked toward the front entrance, shaking off his sire's attempt to hold him back.

He needed to kill.

The lobby was silent for several minutes after Spike stormed out.

Willow and Angel regarded each other uncomfortably. At last, Angel spoke.

"The challenge goes out to clans, Willow. As my childe, Spike belongs to my clan."

Willow's eyes widened as she realized what he was implying.

"You wouldn't!" she demanded, aghast at what he was threatening.

Angel nodded soberly. "If it meant protecting you. Spike is right -- you matter to both of us, and I won't let you put yourself at risk. If it comes down to it, I'll refuse to recognize you as a member of my clan. Without clan affiliation, you'll be barred from fighting."

Willow turned her back to him, clenched her fists and released a howl of pure anguish that pained Angel like a stake to the heart. When she faced him again, blood-red tears streaked her face.

"You..." Willow sobbed bitterly, with a look of utter betrayal in her eyes, "...are...the closest thing to a sire...I have ever known! And you would refuse to claim me..."

Tears likewise flowed freely down Angel's cheeks, as her admission rocked him to the core. But he remained adamant.

"Only if you force my hand," he whispered desperately, his eyes squeezed shut, "Please, Willow, don't make me do it."

They stared at each other, frozen in place and both feeling as though they could break in two. Raw despair was etched in their features until, gradually, Angel's expression softened and he begged her once more:

"Please..."

Willow gulped quietly in sorrow, but took a hesitant step forward. Her eyes glistening, she looked at Angel and assented with a slight nod.

It was all either of them needed. With a rush they fell together in a few short strides and clung to each other tightly. They lost track of the passage of time while they stood and wept openly in each other's arms.

*****

The night of the challenge approached. The trio continued their practice bouts, although Angel and Spike now concentrated on each other rather than on training Willow.

At first, she was content to observe them closely, studying their tactics and committing them to memory. But more and more frequently, she withdrew from the dojo when sire and childe began battling in earnest, and went to roam through the city. Although normally Angel would have objected to her venturing out unaccompanied, he knew she would be safe. The call to order that accompanied any challenge established a temporary truce, and ensured that no vampire would attack another prior to the combat in the Pit.

At last, the clans gathered at midnight in a quarry outside the city limits, where a large pit, twenty-feet deep, fifty-feet wide and a hundred-feet long had been carved in the ground. An altar was set up at the head of the spacious pit, with a rope ladder rolled up beside it. Willow stood beside Angel and Spike at the very edge of the pit and surveyed the crowd. She recognized Manuel, Theo, and several minions of their clan near the altar, as well as numerous other vampires whom she had observed in the nights preceding the challenge.

For Willow had not gone out to hunt at all on those nights that she left Angel and Spike sparring in the dojo.

She had a plan of her own.

A Master from a neutral lair who had agreed to officiate the challenge boomed forth with a loud voice as he announced the rules of combat.

"All those who have come to fight must be in the Pit before the flame on the altar is lit. Once lit, none shall enter or leave the Pit until the fight has ended. The fight ends when only one clan remains, although the Master of a clan may choose to recognize any survivors from other clans as his own. Any he does not recognize will be left behind, either to save themselves before dawn, or to face the sun. Let all who will fight now come forward."

One by one, members of different clans dropped down into the arena of combat. Masters, minions, seasoned veterans, fledglings, males and females alike all assembled until there were over fifty vampires in the Pit. Willow saw that Manuel and Theo were already waiting below, and she watched as Angel and Spike leaped from the precipice to join them.

The Master of the Pit was handed a torch, which he raised high above the altar. As the combatants in the Pit looked on, all poised to fight, two things happened in rapid succession.

The torch fell from the Master's grip...

...and Willow stepped off the edge and dropped down into the Pit.

Just as her feet hit the ground and she sagged to her knees, a rush of flame billowed up from the altar.

"Willow, no!" Angel cried out in horror.

As the roar of the fight went up, Willow shouted back at her two companions, "Fight! Fight, and don't worry about me!"

With that, she ducked around two battling vampires and disappeared into the melee, having upped the stakes and leaving Angel and Spike even more desperate to conclude this match in their favor. Twisting the head off of a rival combatant, as the unfortunate vamp exploded into dust Spike growled furiously at his sire, "She'd bloody well better survive this! Because when it's all over, I *personally* am going to stake her for that stunt!"

The slaughter continued for over forty minutes, and it was brutal. Because weapons were forbidden, opponents resorted to decapitation, draining one another, and ripping each other's unbeating hearts directly from each other's chest cavities. During that time, Angel occasionally caught a glimpse of Willow as she wove through the action, deflecting blows but not really engaging anyone directly. It slowly dawned on him that she looked not so much like a fighter...as a sheep dog. When she passed near him, throwing a fledgling off balance and into perfect position for Spike to remove his head from his shoulders, Angel's suspicions about her strategy grew.

If he was right, then she was absolutely brilliant.

<But,> Angel reminded himself, <she is still in deep, deep trouble when we get out of here.>

At last, Angel and Spike were the only two vampires still able to stand on their feet. The majority of the others had been dusted, although about a dozen lay broken and groaning on the floor of the Pit. Spike surveyed the destruction in a panic until his eyes fell upon a redheaded figure slumped over on the far side of the Pit.

"Willow!" he called out urgently as he ran over to her. When he reached her she was in a daze. A vicious, ugly gash ran all the way from her right ear down to her collar bone, and it looked like her left arm was broken.

But she had survived. Too relieved to be angry with her, Spike hugged her to himself tightly for just a moment before he gathered her up in his arms and carried her back to his sire. The enthusiastic shouts of the spectators had died down with the conclusion of the fight, and the Master of the Pit called down to Angel.

"The fight is yours. Do you choose to recognize any of the fallen?"

Angel scanned the survivors. Neither Manuel nor Theo were visible for him to restore to their lair, which Angel regretted because he knew that a minor territorial war would ensue among the other clans for the right to Manuel's zone of influence. He looked up at the Master of the Pit and shouted, "I recognize none of them...save this minion, whom I claim as part of my clan."

He gestured to Willow who was still cradled against Spike's chest. Wearily, she closed her eyes, although Angel saw a tear slip from beneath her lashes and caught the tired smile that twitched at the corner of her mouth.

The rope ladder was let down, and they climbed up.

*****

Both Spike and Angel fussed like nervous mothers over Willow when they got her back to the hotel. Spike gritted his teeth and set Willow's fractured arm. Angel carried her into the shower with him and cleaned away the blood and grime with great tenderness. Then, while his childe showered, Angel dressed the wound on her neck and tucked her into his bed. She was barely conscious, but he bit his own wrist and pressed it to her lips, managing to coax her to drink down at least a pint before she drifted off completely. The loss of blood took its toll on him, especially combined with the exhaustion that had set in after the fight, and he nearly toppled over when he stood to go retrieve a pouch of blood from the refrigerator.

"Sit down before you fall down, mate," Spike ordered as he emerged from Angel's bathroom, "I'll pour us both a drink."

Angel nodded gratefully and waited while his childe heated the blood in the microwave. Spike returned a few minutes later and extended a mug to him, then sat down to join his sire in a caring vigil over Willow's sleeping form.

"I still can't believe how bloody lucky she was," Spike murmured.

"It wasn't all luck," Angel noted, "Willow knew what she was doing."

"You're joking..." came Spike's astonished reply.

"No...she was herding them."

The younger vampire stared at Angel incredulously. Yet Willow confirmed Angel's statement the following evening when she awoke.

"I decided to use vampire arrogance to my own advantage," she explained to her dumbfounded yet admiring companions, "I haven't been one for very long, but I've figured something out. Vampires are a bunch of competitive, domineering, posturing pricks with big, fat egos."

"Oh, well thank *you*!" Spike grumbled. Willow laughed at him, finding his protest wholly endearing.

"Present company excepted...most of the time..." she teased before continuing, "I knew that all of the vampires in that Pit would be out to prove that they were the biggest and the baddest. It wouldn't occur to them to run away from the fight, or that anyone else would. So that's what I did. I ran away, only I did it in such a way that I could maneuver a vamp here and there directly into harm's way. While you two were training, I went out and studied any members of other clans that I could find. I watched them fight whenever I had the opportunity, and learned their styles. A few of them were there in the Pit, so I knew exactly how to throw them off balance. They were the first to go."

Willow paused momentarily as Angel handed her a mug of blood, took several swallows, and then finished her explanation.

"Ever since I was turned, I've been caught in the middle between vampires who wanted to decide my fate by fighting with each other while I waited on the sidelines. So I finally decided it was time to put that Neanderthal mentality to work according to *my* design. I got in there and made sure that everyone slugged it out, and tipped the balance wherever I could. And sure enough, it was easy for me to slip away, ignored, while two vamps who were intent on demonstrating their prowess pounded each other into oblivion. You said it yourself, Spike: I didn't matter to them."

"That's the most insulting assessment of vampires I've ever heard," Spike remarked. However, he was unable to suppress a grin at the sheer audacity of what Willow had accomplished.

"Yeah, but it worked. What does that tell you?" she countered, batting her eyelashes at him coyly.

"It tells me that you have been sorely underestimated by the vampire community," Angel answered softly, "Including us."

Willow turned toward him and graced him with one of the most genuine, compassionate smiles he had seen on her face since she had left her human existence behind. Grasping his hand in hers, she gave it a gentle squeeze and murmured, "No, not you. I was counting on you. I knew you'd figure it out, and take full advantage of what I was doing. It was the first lesson you taught me: watch your position *relative* to your opponent's. I was the free radical. I did what you did when you trained me, only instead of stopping two fighters and correcting their stance, I sabotaged it."

Without letting go of Angel's hand, she reached out to take Spike's as well and said, "We make a good team. I'm just the one who decided to act like it tonight."

The two elder vampires grinned warmly at her, both persuaded that what she had said was an understatement, to say the least. However, Spike -- who couldn't let his reputation be compromised by sentimentality -- feigned alarm and grumbled, "Oh no....oh, no you don't, little minion...this is *not* going to turn into a bloody 'group-hug' moment! Vampires do *not* do group hugs."

"Speak for yourself," Angel chuckled as he pulled Willow into his arms.

*****

Willow stood in the center of the dojo, her face a mask of total concentration. Although Angel and Spike felt that she no longer needed to train as rigorously as she had before, and urged her to take it easy until she recovered completely, she wanted to run through a few, simple stretches and routines to keep limber. She moved through her positions gracefully, and then lowered herself to the mat and rested on her knees in silent meditation for five minutes to center herself.

When she stood and turned to leave, she found Spike watching her from the doorway.

"Hey," she greeted him.

"You're feeling better," he observed as he walked toward her.

"Yup. I think I could be ready to go out and hunt in another night or two. Just in time, since Angel probably feels like he has a permanent leak in his neck," Willow joked.

Spike smiled but it wasn't amusement Willow saw in his eyes. She had seen the same storm raging deep within the icy blue once before. Vivid images of a parking lot, and a vampire's face painted with equal measures of blood and passion, swept through Willow's mind.

"True, you do need to feed heavy while you're healing," Spike acknowledged quietly, "But Angel isn't the only one who has a vein to offer."

And there it was.

Willow had known that this matter, this simmering attraction, so long unmentioned between them, would eventually present itself again. The decision loomed before her -- temptation itself.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Willow murmured incredulously, even as she trembled with hunger for the potent red elixir that flowed through his veins.

"Oh, I think you know very well that I want this, luv," Spike whispered in her ear, his voice dark and inviting, "But the choice is yours."

His body hovered against hers like a shadow but he didn't touch her. Almost imperceptibly he raised his chin and tilted it slightly, exposing his neck in silent temptation. Willow felt her hunger quicken at the small gesture which was so thick with meaning. It was the nearest thing to a sign of submission she would ever get from a Master of Spike's rank and power -- and she, still a minion. It was more than an offer of his blood. It was a request for her consent to their mutual satisfaction. He wanted her. Willow had known this for some time, and despite the brutality of that first night, her reservations had all but faded.

As if he understood where her thoughts had turned, Spike murmured solemnly, "How we started out...was a mistake. Let me show you something better."

Willow gave herself over to instinct and lunged at him. She gripped his biceps forcefully and assaulted the full length of his throat with lips, tongue and teeth. Alternately suckling, licking and gnawing sensually on his skin, she took pleasure in Spike's response as he hardened against her and stroked his hands appreciatively up and down her thighs. Unable to restrain herself any longer against the heady lure of his blood, she positioned her fangs over his artery and slowly sank into his flesh.

As soon as the first, rich, scarlet draught hit her tongue, she was lost. He tasted of daring and power and lust. Willow growled passionately as she drank, and yielded willingly as he slowly lowered them both to the floor and gently bent her body back. He nudged her thighs apart and settled between them, yet he held himself above her, his head arched back and his muscles tense and coiled like a jaguar poised to spring. Spike hovered with an absolutely rigid discipline as they shared an erotic near-embrace, with Willow's ravenous deadlock on his throat the only point of contact between them. At last, her moans became more urgent until she ripped her mouth away from his neck, leaving it weeping with blood, and surrendered to a shuddering climax.

All restraint vanished from the blond vampire as he captured her lips and kissed her with an intensity that threatened to send another orgasm ripping through her. He pressed her against the mat, not as he had done so often during their practice bouts and sparring, but with his hips grinding against hers in sexual rhythm. Raising up slightly, he slid his hand beneath her tee shirt and fingered the elastic of her sports bra. With a deft tug he pulled both up, exposing her breasts to his mouth. Spike closed his lips around one taut peak and nursed it to a hardened, sensitive nub with his tongue, leaving Willow gasping with desire. He rolled her erect bud between his lips, teased it with gentle flicks of his tongue and tugged with his teeth until her areola puckered and strained upward in brazen abandonment to his ministrations. But what he did next nearly left her shattered from the force of her own lust. Letting his fangs drop, he teased her nipple lightly with one sharp point. Slowly, infuriatingly, he traced razor-fine trails across her pebbled flesh, never quite breaking the skin yet setting her nerve endings on fire.

"Spike!" she shrieked as she arched up into him.

Spike grinned wickedly at the plea laced within her ecstatic cry, enjoying a brief flush of pride at having made her beg at last. He lifted himself off of her just long enough for both of them to divest themselves of their clothes. When they returned to their wanton embrace, Willow grasped his cock in her hand and drew him into her, and both of them hissed at the lush, sensual friction of slow penetration. Languidly kissing each other, their tongues mimicked the urgent, forceful thrusts of their lower bodies. Willow could feel the tension building within her, climbing toward a delicious rapture, when Spike suddenly went still. She nearly howled in frustration.

Gritting her teeth, Willow threatened, "So help me, Spike, if you leave me like this...the next time I turn you into a rat, I'll--"

He cut her off with a chuckle. "There won't ever be a next time, luv. But don't worry, I'm not done with you yet. I won't be, until I feel you shudder around me so hard I could break off and lose myself in you forever."

Still sheathed in her up to the hilt, Spike rose up on his knees, dragging Willow with him. Her thighs stretched open wide, he plunged into her silky core even more deeply than before as the new angle of penetration allowed his rigid member to caress her clit with a maddening insistence. Reveling in the sensation of her flesh wrapping around his and clutching at him as he thrust, Spike let his hands roam down along her torso. Possessively, he kneaded her breasts and squeezed her nipples as she arched and writhed on his cock. Steadily, the tempo of their serpentine dance increased until with a final, violent drive Spike emptied himself into her, roaring as he felt her own powerful climax rippling against his flesh.

Pulling Willow up into his arms, Spike continued to kneel, still joined with her, and cradled her in a fevered embrace. They clung to each other for several moments, stroking each other with gentle, loving hands, until Willow leaned back slightly to fix Spike with an irresistible, enticing stare.

"I propose another trade. I keep you for one night, to do with as I please..." she murmured seductively.

All too willing to succumb to temptation, Spike countered, "And what do I get in return?"

"Exactly the same thing. Me, for one night, to do with as you please."

He grinned at her devilishly.

"Agreed."

*****

Angel grinned to himself but kept his eyes on the book he had been reading as he sensed his two companions, reeking of their coupling, move past his suite and toward the room that Spike had claimed as his own.

So...the children had finally resolved their issues.

*****

Like a predator, Willow moved toward Spike, who reclined against the headboard with his arms stretched out and his wrists firmly secured to either bed post.

"I like this look on you, Spike," she said with a feral grin as she gestured toward his naked, shackled form.

"Well, luv," her lover purred back at her, "Here's another lesson in vampire culture for you. When you see something you like, you take it."

"If you say so," Willow conceded demurely, settling herself above his hips. "And speaking of vampire culture," she continued, punctuating her words with light nips at his collar bone, "There's something I've been wondering about for a long time..."

"And what's that?" Spike asked, his eyes closed as he leaned into the pleasure of her touch.

"Who was Alexei?"

Spike slumped against her and groaned in frustration. "Cor, luv, what a way to kill the mood!"

"I can't help it. I'm curious...besides, I've got you at my mercy. You have to answer the question."

Soberly, he explained. "Alexei goes back to the days of Angelus. He was a mature minion, on his way to becoming a master, when he crossed my sire. Attacked Dru only about a week after she'd been turned, and when she was still vulnerable, despite Angelus' warning to everyone that she was off-limits."

Willow listened intently, her eyes widened in dreadful anticipation. "What happened to him?"

Spike snorted. "Something to make any of the entries about Angelus in the Watchers' Diaries look like bloody letters from your grandmum. Angelus flayed every inch of skin off of his body and doused him in holy water. Then, while the pathetic sod was screaming in agony, Angelus nailed him to a cross and pounded spikes through his joints -- knees, elbows, shoulders, ankles, the works. He left Alexei like that in the main hall of the lair for a week, and gave everyone strict orders *not* to kill the stupid bastard. Angelus wanted to wait until Alexei begged *him* for death. And when he finally did...Angelus poured another dose of holy water on him and laughed. It took another month before my sire was ready to let him die, but by that time Alexei was an incoherent wretch, and barely recognizable anymore."

"He was an example..." Willow murmured, completely stunned.

"And one that never needed repeating. That, my love, is vampire society in all its glory," Spike replied with absolute seriousness. "Angelus was one of the greatest of us that this world has ever seen, and Alexei is just one testament to what made him a legend. You won't truly be prepared to be part of this society until you can understand that *that* kind of ruthlessness earns respect."

Willow absorbed the full impact of Spike's words, and then a wicked gleam sparked in her eyes.

"So, let me see if I understand you..." she purred slyly, "Inflicting pain earns respect?"

The tone in her voice caught Spike's attention and shot straight to his groin. Seeing that the vixen was back, he grinned in anticipation of her next move and rumbled, "Oh, yes...the greater the pain, the better."

Crawling over him like a cat until she had settled between his legs, Willow paused to flash him an absolutely feral look before she lowered her head slowly toward his erect staff. Letting her demon come to the fore, she bared her fangs and pounced.

*****

Angel set his book aside and reached to answer the ringing telephone. It was Wesley, informing him that Cordelia had just had a vision and that his assistance was needed. The vampire crusader was listening to the details of the vision when an ear-splitting scream pierced the air. When Wesley expressed alarm and asked if there was any trouble, Angel couldn't suppress a grin and replied, "No, nothing's wrong. Everyone here is...just fine..."

Within minutes, Wesley finished relaying the necessary information and Angel was on his way out to fight yet another demon.

As he left his suite Angel paused and glanced toward Spike's closed door. He smiled again and shook his head.

<Apparently, Willow has some hidden talents,> he mused to himself, and went out into the night.

*****

Spike forced his eyes open as the searing pain subsided, and locked a gaze of pure lust on the redheaded vixen who had just made him scream louder than he could remember doing in the past century.

"That...hurt...like...bloody...hell..." he grunted with difficulty.

Willow waited expectantly, not sure whether she should untie him and tone things down a bit. His next words, however, elicited a pleased grin from her as she realized the potential she had just unlocked.

"Do it again."

~Fin~

Continue to 'Feeding Habits'