Sleepwalking

By Spikedluv

Chapter One

It had been an especially horrendous day on the hellmouth, and Willow allowed herself to relax on Giles' couch. For the last couple of days, the entire scooby gang had been researching yet another demon with delusions of grandeur who wanted to open the hellmouth, and had spent the better part of the night fighting it and it's disgusting minions.

The demon had been particularly nasty, but Willow hadn't had to worry about it because Buffy and Giles took it on in true Slayer-Watcher tag-team style. No, she, along with Xander and Anya, only had to worry about the minions. They hadn't been extra strong, or even smart, but they were willing, or coerced, to fight to the death protecting the demon and ensuring that it completed its ritual.

But, after they had killed the first one, the scales and scabs, claws and fangs, dissolved until an emaciated human corpse was lying on the ground in front of them. Willow had been horrified to realize that the minions had once been human beings. It made it a little more difficult to kill them, but when the choice was 'kill or be killed', as Spike had once said, she took her 'bloody pick', and she killed.

In the end, they had been victorious and returned to the Watcher's apartment to tend to their various minor injuries, Willow's idea, and for some well-deserved comfort food, Xander's idea. Willow, who could now boast a small cut on her temple, that Buffy assured her wouldn't scar, and a sprained wrist, closed her eyes with a deep sigh and drifted off to sleep as the voices around her got softer and softer, until they were no more.

Suddenly, Willow jerked awake. She sat up and looked around her in confusion, wondering what had awakened her. She was alone in the dark living room. Where had everyone gone? Suddenly there was a loud knocking at the front door that made her jump and her heart race. Willow stood and walked to the door, peeking out the peephole to see who was outside before opening the door. She'd learned her lesson on that one!

Standing in the courtyard was the demon they had fought earlier, surrounded by five scaly, scabby minions with claws and fangs that morphed human then back again. Willow swallowed hard, then jumped back as the demon pounded on the door again. Holy...crap! Where had everyone gone, she wondered again. She was alone and the demon was right outside. She was sure the demon wouldn't need an invite, it would just need to break the now-seemingly weak door down.

Wait! She wasn't alone. Spike was here. Spike would help her. He'd protect her. Save her. Willow turned around and the blond vampire was standing behind her.

"Spike!" she said, rushing to him and grabbing his arms. "Help! Th-there's a demon outside," she looked over her shoulder at the shuddering door.

"It's alright, luv, don't you worry about a thing," he pulled her into his strong arms and held her against his hard, firm chest.

"Thanks, Spike," Willow said as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I'll take care of you," Spike whispered as he kissed the top of her head.

***

"What the bloody hell is this?!" Spike looked down at the redheaded witch who had just climbed into the tub where he was chained and wrapped her arms around him as she snuggled up against him.

At his disgruntled cry, everyone came running and crowded into the bathroom to see a sleeping Willow curled up in the tub with Spike, whose arms were raised above his head as far as the chains would allow, as if he were afraid to touch her.

"Oh, dear," Giles spoke softly, removing his glasses.

"Oh, no!" Xander whispered, then stood stupidly with his eyes wide, mouth open.

"Lucky Willow," Anya mused, taking the opportunity to give Spike the once, and twice, over.

"What did you do?" Buffy hissed at the blond vampire. Spike rolled his eyes and shook his manacled hands at her, giving her the two-fingered salute as he did so.

"What, exactly, do you think I *could* do, you stupid bint?" he asked angrily.

"Shut up, Spike," Buffy huffed, annoyed that he'd, yet again, pointed out a flaw in her thinking.

"Is she sleeping?" Xander finally found the presence of mind to ask.

"Yes, she's sleeping, you bleedin' moron!" Spike responded.

"I meant," Xander shook his head, trying to clear it of the image of Willow sleeping on Spike, "was she sleeping when she came in here?"

"I don't know!" Spike spoke, his voice hushed. "Her eyes were open and she was talking."

"What did she say?" Giles asked quietly, automatically kicking into Watcher-mode at the strange situation.

"Something about a demon and needing help," Spike told them. Since no one seemed inclined to remove the witch, he lowered his arms around her, his hands resting on her back. She felt warm and...soft. "Why'd you ask if she was sleeping?" Spike asked Xander.

"Well," Xander hesitated. "Oh, god, I hope she doesn't kill me for this," he tilted his head and prayed to the bathroom ceiling. "She used to sleepwalk, way back when she was really young, when her parents first started traveling and leaving her home alone. She hasn't done it in years. Do you think the fight with the demon triggered something?" he looked at the all-knowing Watcher.

"I don't know, but you think she might have been sleepwalking?" he asked Xander as he rubbed his glasses.

"Maybe. Like I said, it's been a long time," Xander looked at his oldest friend who was curled up contentedly on the evil, bloodsucking demon chained in Giles' tub. That was *too* weird.

"She did get hurt," Spike said, "I can smell the blood." Thank hell he'd just had a mug of pig's blood, 'cause the scent of her blood, so close to the surface, was calling to him. He looked down and saw the small band-aid on the side of her head. Her face was so pale, especially against all that red hair. He unobtrusively ran a strand through his fingers. It was so soft.

"Ew," Xander muttered.

"Alright, get her out of there!" Buffy made a grab for Willow.

"No!" Xander and Giles both cried at the same time, grabbing her and pulling her back as Spike curled protectively around the small body in his arms.

"What are you both doing?" Buffy asked the two men holding her arms. They released their hold immediately and took a step away from the irate Slayer.

"I don't think you're supposed to wake someone when they're sleepwalking," Giles explained. "What if she's still in some kind of dream?" he looked at the peacefully sleeping girl.

"Plus, waking up with all of us staring at her and realizing where she sleepwalked *to* might be kind of embarrassing," Xander added.

"Right, thanks for that, mate," Spike muttered.

"I see what you mean," Buffy agreed and Spike made a face at her. Stupid bint. "So, what do we do, then?"

"Carefully lift her out and put her back on the couch," Anya suggested. "Use your Slayer strength, but judiciously," she nodded knowingly.

"Right," Buffy looked the situation over, disgusted that she was going to have to touch Spike...again. As if the hellish 'my will' spell hadn't been enough. She took a deep breath and leaned over the tub. She pulled Willow's arms out from around Spike's waist and slipped a hand between her best girlfriend and her most hated enemy.

"Mmm, Buffy?" Willow mumbled sleepily as Buffy lifted her.

"Yeah, Will, it's me. Go back to sleep," Buffy spoke gently.

"'Kay," Willow wrapped her arms around Buffy's shoulders. "'Night, Spike," she fell back to sleep.

"'Night, luv," Spike replied, as he watched the Slayer lift Willow into her arms and carry her out of the bathroom, already missing the warmth of her soft body.

***

Buffy laid Willow on the couch and then sat on the coffee table, gently running her fingers through the other girl's hair. Willow moaned and her eyes fluttered, then opened.

"Hey, Will," Buffy said, concern coloring her voice.

"Buffy? What's wrong?" Willow sat up and looked at the three people crowded around behind the blonde.

"How do you feel?" Xander asked.

"I feel...okay," Willow said. "Why?"

"Have you been under any stress lately?" Giles asked.

"You mean, other than living on the hellmouth and researching and fighting demons while attending college?" Willow replied.

"Er, yes," Giles rubbed furiously at his glasses.

"No, why?"

"You were sleepwalking," Buffy tried to break it to her gently.

"No way! I haven't sleepwalked in...," Willow scoffed, then paused. She suddenly remembered strong arms and a hard chest. Her mouth dropped open in shock. "Uh, where, exactly, did I sleepwalk to?" she asked.

"The bathroom," Giles tried to spare her the ugly details.

"You got off of the couch and just walked down the hall," Xander explained.

"Yeah, you climbed in the tub with Spike," Anya added, wishing she could pretend to sleepwalk.

"An!" Xander tried to shush her.

"Oh, goddess," Willow moaned and lowered her head into her hands.


Chapter Two

Willow was so embarrassed. She hadn't seen Spike since the night before last when she had sleepwalked at Giles' and ended up in the tub with him. She didn't know what was worse, not being able to remember what she had done, or the fact that she did remember some things, namely the comfort she had felt snuggled up against Spike's hard chest. Oh, yeah, did she mention the hard chest? Remembered that, too, she felt herself blushing.

Buffy hadn't really said anything to her about climbing into the tub with Spike, though she saw her shudder once or twice when Buffy didn't realize Willow was watching her. Buffy was almost walking on eggshells around her, because Xander had explained the origin of Willow's sleepwalking to everyone, and the blonde didn't want to bring up bad memories of her parents. Giles had told Willow that if she needed to talk about anything, he'd be there for her. And she knew he would be, but she hadn't felt like talking to him.

Tonight she was going to see Spike again. The entire gang had been summoned to Giles' for another research session and Willow was dreading it. Not just the seeing-Spike part, though that was pretty nerve-wracking, but the seeing-all-of-them-who-knew-she-had-sleepwalked-her-way-into-the-tub-with-Spike part.

She had to stop thinking about it. She shook herself, then knocked on the door. After a few moments, Giles answered.

"Willow, hello," Giles opened the door and stood back to allow her to enter. "Please come in."

"Hi, Giles," Willow gave a little wave as she walked past him.

"You're early," Giles commented softly as he shut the door behind her. "Did you want to talk?"

"Oh, no, thanks," Willow turned back to face him. "I just wanted to, um, well, that is...,"

"Hey, Watcher, you're outta Wheatabix." Willow jumped and turned around as Spike stepped out of the kitchen with a mug in his hand and sauntered over to the couch.

"Ah, Spike," Willow pointed at the now-unchained blond vampire, her mouth hanging open in surprise.

"Watch it, Red, you're starting to remind me of the moron," Spike commented as he sat on the couch and placed his feet on the coffee table.

"Get your feet off of the coffee table," Giles walked over to him and swiped them off. Spike watched him walk into the kitchen, then put his feet back up on the low table.

"Willow," Giles called from the kitchen, "would you care for any tea?"

"Uh, no, thanks, Giles," she said as she set her book bag on the table and removed her jacket, hanging it over the back of one of the chairs. She shuffled into the living room and paused just behind the couch, her heart pounding.

"What is it, Red?" Spike asked without looking back. The girl was sending off waves of nervousness and trepidation, not to mention the racing heart and heavy breathing.

"Oh, I, um, well," Willow stepped up to the side of the couch and wiped damp palms on her jeans. "I wanted to apologize," she rushed out.

"Apologize?" Spike asked in surprise, tilting his head to look at her. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had apologized to him. "For what?"

"You know!" she blushed, her eyes darting around the apartment, looking anywhere but at Spike. "For the other night. When I...you know!" she finished, her voice high.

"Ya mean when ya climbed into bed with me?" Spike asked with a smirk.

"I did *not*!" Willow denied and slapped his shoulder. "I was...I was sleeping and I just...,"

"Just teasing ya, Red, don't get your knickers in a twist," Spike said before taking a sip of...bloody crackers? Ew. "So, you sleepwalk a lot?" Spike asked.

"Hmm?" Willow looked away from the mug and into his blue eyes.

"Sleepwalk, do it often?"

"Oh, uh, no. Not in a long time, anyway," Willow nervously put her hands on her hips, then stuck them in the back pockets of her jeans.

"Why now?" Spike asked as he drained the mug.

"Don't know," Willow fibbed.

"You said something about needing help with a demon," Spike persisted.

"I did?" Willow asked. Spike just looked at her. "Well, I guess I was dreaming about the demon we'd just fought," she admitted.

"You do that often?" Spike asked. "Dream about the demons," he clarified at her look of confusion.

"No, not usually, just...never mind," she shook her head.

"Just what?" Spike pressed, his voice gentle, almost soothing.

"The minions," Willow said, then paused. "They were human. I mean, not human when we were fighting them. Then they were ugly, scabby, scaly things with claws and fangs," her face scrunched up as she described the demons. "Until we killed them. Then they...turned human again. They were nothing but skin and bone, all emaciated and...skeletal. It kind of freaked me out," she gave a little self-deprecating laugh.

"That the things you were fighting were human?" Spike boiled it down.

"Yeah," Willow admitted as she nervously twisted the silver band on her thumb. She started to say something else, but the front door opened and Xander and Anya stepped into the apartment. "Hi, guys," she breathed a sigh of relief at the interruption as she went to greet the two.

***

Willow was at Giles' apartment, researching with Giles and his friend, Olivia. She, Buffy and the entire population of Sunnydale had woken that morning unable to speak. The news claimed that it was laryngitis from an unknown source, and the entire town had been quarantined. Research was proving to be difficult, especially since they couldn't talk to ask each other questions or relay information.

After several hours of researching, Willow was exhausted. She lay down on the couch to wait for Buffy to come get her after she was finished with patrol. In addition to your regular, run-of-the-mill demons, the Slayer expected to be kept busy preventing fear-based looting and destruction.

When Willow woke up, Giles and Olivia were sitting at the table. 'Giles,' she tried to call to him, but she had no voice. 'Giles,' she said again, her hand at her throat. She jumped up and Giles looked toward her at the movement.

Noticing her hand on her throat and the fear in her eyes, he picked up the message board she had brought with her and wrote, 'no voices yet'. Willow's breathing slowed down and the fear receded a bit as she remembered. The whole town was without its voice.

She rushed over to the table and took the pen out of Giles' hand. 'Spike?' she wrote on the board.

'At Xander's,' Giles wrote below it. Willow nodded her head, then headed toward the door.

'Willow,' Giles tried to call her back, then shook his head at the automatic response. He followed her and touched her shoulder. Willow turned around and he held up the board. Erasing what he had written, he wrote, 'he should be here soon', then looked up to see what Willow's reaction would be.

Her shoulders seemed to slump as she relaxed. Giles erased the whole board and wrote, 'why don't you lie down, I'll wake you when he gets here'.

'Okay,' Willow mouthed as she nodded with a small smile. She walked over to the couch, then turned around. 'Don't forget,' she mouthed.

'I won't,' Giles wrote and held the board up. Willow smiled and lay back down.

With a deep sigh, Giles resumed his seat, tossing the board on the table. He took his glasses off and began to methodically rub them.

'What was that?' Olivia wrote.

'She's started to sleepwalk recently,' Giles wrote, then shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. 'I think it's stress-related,' he added.

'Who's Spike?' Olivia wrote.

***

Willow was tired and sore when she crawled into bed that night. She was also relieved, though still a little bit frightened. A bunch of creepy guys called the Gentlemen had come to Sunnydale. They had magically stolen the voices of all of the townspeople so they could remove their hearts without anyone crying for help. She had almost been one of their victims, if not for the help of a girl she had met in the otherwise worthless Wicca group.

Together they had managed to barricade the door to the room they were hiding in against the Gentlemen, and Buffy had later defeated them. Willow looked over at Buffy, who was sleeping in the bed next to hers. She wished she could fall asleep as easily, but Willow was still tossing and turning, unable to turn her mind off.

She'd been terrified. She'd wanted to scream, but she couldn't. She closed her eyes, determined to fall asleep.

The Gentlemen were back and Willow was running from them again. She was running down the corridor outside her dorm room, then down the stairs. This time, she was alone. Instead of running to the basement, she ran through the lobby and out the front door. She wasn't going to be locked in that dead-end room again.

She looked behind her. The Gentlemen were still there, following her, floating. She turned and ran for safety.

***

Spike opened his eyes when he heard the outside door to the moron's basement apartment, where he was currently tied to a chair, swing open. He recognized the witch's scent and wondered what she was doing out and about at this time of night. He listened to her light footsteps as she descended the basement stairs.

Her breathing was ragged and he could hear the blood pumping through her body. Then she was standing before him...in her pajamas, a pair of flannel boxers and an old t-shirt.

"Spike?" she whispered.

"Red?" he responded, with a questioning look and a tilt of his head. Her face was pale and he could see the sheen of light perspiration coating her skin.

Without another word, Willow climbed onto his lap and curled her legs under her. She snuggled into him, tucking her face into the curve of his neck, wrapping one arm around his waist, the other resting lightly on his chest.

Spike opened and closed his mouth several times before finally leaving it closed. He tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling as if it could give him the answers he sought. He shook his head and raised his hands, placing one on Willow's back, the other on her bare thigh as she slept in his lap.

After several minutes, when he knew Willow was sleeping soundly, Spike allowed himself to relax. The witches skin, cold from the outdoors, was heating up and Spike found himself taking comfort in her warmth and softness. It had been so long since someone touched him, needed him. He felt her warm breath on the bare skin of his neck and felt her heart beating against his chest through the thin top she was wearing. He inhaled her scent, gently stroking the soft skin of her thigh.

What in bloody hell was going on?

Chapter Three

Spike woke as Willow shifted on his lap, making herself more comfortable. He groaned as her bum rubbed against his cock. He wasn't hard, yet, but with the warmth of her body and the scent of the blood rushing through her veins, it wouldn't take much. He took a moment to wonder how she could be comfortable, lying against all that rope Xander had used to tie him up.

"Hold still, there, luv," he whispered, grabbing her hips and settling her back down so that she wasn't pressing directly on him.

"Mmm, Spike," she moaned against his neck, her warm breath tickling him. She lifted the hand that rested on his chest and wrapped her arm around his neck, snuggling closer to him, pressing her soft breasts against his chest.

"Red," he whispered, his hands moved up her body to turn her back around and slipped beneath her t-shirt. He froze as his fingers grazed the warm flesh of her back. He laid his palm flat against her back and let her warmth seep into him.

Bloody hell, he groaned to himself as he felt his cock respond. He jerked his hand out from under her top, squeezed it into a fist, and held it away from him. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, trying to will himself soft. Think about something else, anything else...sunshine...holy water...crosses...kissing the slayer...there, that did it.

He decided to leave Willow where she was and tried to fall asleep, praying to hell that she didn't move around any more. Her scent surrounded him. Bloody hell. It was going to be a long night.

The sun was shining outside the basement window when Spike was awakened by a squeal from the moron. Spike opened one eye and stared at him. He was standing next to the pull-out sofa in his white tank top and boxers, his hands held out and his mouth open in an expression of shocked surprise.

"Spike!" he yelped. "You...you've grown a Willow!"

"Yeah," Spike agreed tiredly, having not gotten very much sleep that night. Thank hell he'd get to sleep in. "Why don't you go take your shower and I'll wake her up," Spike suggested.

Xander just stared at him like an idiot.

"Might be less embarrassing for her if there's only one of us here, and since I can't move...," he left the thought hanging.

"Oh, yeah, right," Xander gathered his clothes and headed for the bathroom, taking one last look at Willow before he left.

Spike waited until he heard the shower running before he tried to wake Willow.

"Red," he called to her softly. "Pet. Luv."

"Mmm, what?" she said tiredly.

"Time to wake up now, pet," Spike said.

"Spike?" Willow said and he felt her body tense. Yep, she was awake now.

"Yes, luv," he said.

"Wh-where am I?" she asked without lifting her head, or even opening her eyes.

"Xander's basement," Spike told her.

"Oh, goddess," she groaned, covering her face with her hand. "How did I get here?"

"Walked, I guess. Didn't hear a car," Spike replied.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't remember...,"

"That's alright, luv," he rubbed her back soothingly as best he could with his upper arms tied.

"Um, where's Xander?" she asked.

"Shower."

"He saw me?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, goddess," she groaned again, as she curled her body up into a little ball, pressing herself against Spike's chest as if she could crawl inside him and disappear.

"Luv," he paused, "sorry, but, I'm gonna have to ask you to get up," he grabbed her hips and tried to lift her.

"Wha...oh, goddess," Willow jumped off of his lap and raced across the room, which wasn't very far. "Sorry, sorry, sorry!" she hopped around, trying to erase the feel of Spike's...erection...from her body.

"It's alright, pet," Spike drawled. "Look, untie me, will ya, so I can take the bed?"

Her eyes on the floor, Willow walked back over to him. She found the knot and untied the rope holding him to the chair.

"Thanks, luv," Spike stood and stretched, then walked over to the pull-out and fell across it, face down. "Moron'll be out soon," Spike said as he drifted off to sleep, "sure he'll drive ya ta school."

"Right," Willow murmured, staring at Spike's butt as she waited for Xander.

***

Giles was starting to get more worried about Willow's new tendency to sleepwalk since she had walked through the streets of Sunnydale alone after dark. Anything could have happened to her. Together they reexamined the incidents, which seemed to occur after, or during, a traumatic event, specifically the fight with the demon and then with the Gentlemen.

What he couldn't figure out, is why she sleepwalked to Spike. When she had fallen asleep at his apartment after the battle with the demon, she had walked to Spike who was then tied up in his bathtub. When she had fallen asleep in her room after the Gentlemen had visited their humble town, she had walked to Xander's to find him. In fact, the second time she fell asleep in his apartment, while they were researching the Gentlemen, she had asked where Spike was and had been ready to head out the door to go to him until Giles had managed to stop her.

So, Giles paced, thinking to himself, if someone is sleepwalking during times of stress, where would they go? To someone, or some place, that makes them feel safe. Willow was sleepwalking during times of stress...to Spike. That was just...disturbing on so many levels! Giles redoubled his efforts to figure out what was going on. He started with reading everything he could on sleepwalking.

A week passed and Willow did not sleepwalk during that time. Of course, they didn't face any apocalypses either. The night they fought the Vahrall demons, who were attempting to perform the Sacrifice of Three to open the hellmouth, Giles expected Willow to sleepwalk again. He warned Buffy to stay with her and to barricade the door so she either couldn't get out or so that Buffy had time to stop her.

To Giles' delight, Willow didn't sleepwalk that night and he hoped that she was getting better. What he didn't know was that Willow hadn't sleepwalked because she hadn't slept.

***

They'd won. They'd fought the demons and won, averting yet another apocalypse. But that wasn't what was keeping her awake. She couldn't stop replaying everything Spike had said to her and Xander outside the library. Couldn't even keep dog-boy happy...you can take the loser out of high school...geeks more useless than I am...she'd do just as well without you...better...tenth grade losers...too much of a softy to cut you loose.

She couldn't stop the tears. She didn't understand what was happening to her, why she had started sleepwalking again. And to *Spike* of all people. Giles seemed to think that she was looking for...safety...comfort?

On a good day she couldn't figure out why she'd think, even subconsciously, that Spike would save her or comfort her. Hello! Bottle-in-face and, oh yeah, the whole trying to bite her in her dorm room thing.

And then there were the bad days, the days when he had to go and say things like that. Remind her that she was a loser, a geek, couldn't keep a boyfriend. Somehow, she didn't think she'd have to worry about sleepwalking to Spike again. She couldn't imagine looking to him for comfort now, if that's what she had been doing.

Willow pulled her pillow to her chest and hugged it tight, watching as the sun lightened the room.

As if things weren't bad enough, two days later she got a telephone call from her parents. She rarely heard from them and was pleasantly surprised, wondering if they were going to tell her that they'd be returning home soon. They weren't returning home. They didn't ask how she was doing or about her classes.

Her mother explained to her that the Dean of Psychology at Harvard was a friend of a friend and was willing to facilitate her transfer to the highly prestigious university as a special favor to her father, and what a great man he was, and what a great honor it was, and how it would improve her father's standing amongst his peers if his only daughter was not attending the University of California at Sunnydale.

Willow tried to explain her reasons for staying in Sunnydale, but her mother wasn't interested in hearing them. Besides, wanting to learn witchcraft and fighting evil on the hellmouth probably weren't going to be the winning arguments here. Willow knew that her parents couldn't force her to leave UC Sunnydale for Harvard, she just wished they could be proud of the person she was.

She had always gotten good grades, always been the dutiful daughter, staying out of trouble, well, except for that whole her-mother-wanted-to-burn-her-at-the-stake-for-being-a-witch episode. But her parents rarely seemed to notice she was there until times like this, when her father's reputation was at stake.

Seemed her parents and Spike agreed. She was useless.

***

That night Willow went to Giles' apartment for research. Xander, Anya and Spike were already there when Willow arrived; Buffy and Riley weren't expected until later. Willow sat at the table researching and then moved over to the couch. Because she hadn't slept for the last two nights, she soon fell asleep.

Willow was locked in her bedroom in her parents' house. Suddenly the door was opened and she breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that she would be freed. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as her mother just stood there, all apologetic, and allowed the mob of angry parents to take her. They dragged Willow down to City Hall where she, Buffy and Amy were tied to stakes surrounded by a pile of library books.

The mob filled the room and many of them carried lit torches. Willow begged her mother not to do this. She cried for Buffy to wake up and save them, then watched in horror as her mother leaned down and lit the fire. She screamed and cried and pleaded, but her mother just stood there and watched the flames.

The flames got closer to her and it was so hot. She felt the flames licking at her flesh and looked around in desperation. This wasn't right. Why wasn't anyone there to save them? Where were Cordy and Giles, Xander and Oz? Willow screamed as the flames set her clothing on fire.

Giles was the first to notice when Willow started thrashing about on the couch. He walked over and looked at her, then sat beside her as the flailing continued. In fact, it intensified. She mumbled something in her sleep and Giles wondered if he should try to wake her.

"What's going on?" Xander asked, fearfully.

"I believe she's dreaming again," Giles said.

Willow began mewling and then she screamed.

"Bloody wake her up!" Spike, who was standing to the side watching, yelled.

Giles grabbed Willow's arms and held them, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He whispered words of comfort in her ear, and asked her to wake up. Willow quieted down, then moaned.

"Willow," Giles whispered, "are you alright?" Willow started to cry.

"They were burning us...at the stake," she sniffled. "I couldn't get away. The fire was so hot. I was burning," her voice broke.

"It's okay, now," Giles said. "It's okay. We got you out. You're okay," he rocked her.

"Is this the same thing that's been happening?" Xander asked.

"I don't know," Giles hated to admit it.

"Why didn't she go to Spike this time?"

"I don't know the answer to that, either. If my theory is correct and she's looking for a place of safety and comfort, perhaps she no longer feels safe with Spike," he hypothesized.

"Useless," Willow whispered, her voice cracking.

"What's that?" Giles asked.

"I'm useless," she repeated.

"That's ridiculous!" Giles said. "You are far from useless."

"Sure I am," she told him. "Just ask Spike. Or my parents."

"You jerk!" Xander hit Spike's arm. "It was your fault!"

"What's the matter?" Giles asked, ignoring Xander's outburst as Willow continued to fidget next to him.

"My leg hurts," she said. "Where I was burned in my dream."

"Ah, some kind of sympathetic pain, perhaps."

"Well, I'm not feeling very sympathetic toward it," she leaned forward and rubbed her leg, then gasped. She pulled her arms away from Giles and lifted her pant leg. The skin where the flame had touched her in her dream was red and blistered.

"Oh, goddess. Ow," she said.

Chapter Four

Willow huddled on the couch, a pillow in her lap, as Giles cut her pant leg and carefully pulled the material away from her leg. Xander, Anya and Spike were still gathered around, but Willow was trying to ignore them.

"Ew...yuck," Xander looked like he might faint. Several of the red, inflamed blisters had broken and were oozing a clear, thick substance. He stepped back and looked away.

"You know, that reminds me of the time I...," Anya started to say as she pointed at Willow's leg.

"An," Xander grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the couch.

"Oh, Willow," Giles' voice was full of sympathy. "You really should go to a hospital. This looks pretty bad. Burns get infected easily and...,"

"No," Willow said. "No hospital. Can you just fix it, Giles, please? I don't want to go to the hospital. What am I going to tell them when they ask me what happened? I was dreaming and I couldn't wake up? Can you just...please?" she asked him, her big green eyes tearing, partly from the situation and partly from the pain.

"Very well," Giles got up and went to get the first aid kit.

Willow watched Xander and Anya with detachment. She glanced at Spike. He was staring at her. She stared back for one beat, two, then turned her head and closed her eyes. She leaned her head back against the couch and hugged the pillow to her chest.

She was embarrassed. She was confused. Her leg hurt like heck.

"Ngh," her eyes flew open and she moaned, partly from the pain, but mostly from surprise, when Giles gently patted at her leg with a cotton ball, soaked with an antiseptic cleanser.

"Did that hurt?" Giles asked, immediately freezing.

"No, sorry," Willow shook her head. "Mostly startled me. Wasn't paying attention. Go ahead," she nodded her head encouragingly, squeezing the pillow so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Willow sensed Spike walking away from her, but refused to let herself look at him. She heard the front door close. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she forced her attention to Giles and watched closely as he finished cleaning her burns and slathered antibacterial ointment on them, leaving them uncovered.

Giles gathered up the used cotton balls and turned to Willow, "I'll bring you some aspirin." Willow just nodded.

"How do you feel?" Xander sat on the coffee table near her.

"Confused," she said. "A little frightened. What's going on?" she asked, nervously playing with the silver ring on her thumb.

"I don't know," Xander took her hand.

"Make any enemies recently?" Anya asked. "What?" she said when they both just looked at her. "I'm just saying, this would have been a great vengeance wish."

"I'm sure no one made a vengeance wish regarding Willow, Anya," Giles said as he sat down on the couch next to the redhead. "Here," he handed the aspirin to her. Willow popped them in her mouth and accepted the glass of water he held out to her, taking a sip.

"You know," Xander said thoughtfully, "Anya could be right. The dreams and the sleepwalking are bad enough," he continued, "but making you need to go to Spike...now *that's* inspired vengeance!" he grinned at her.

Willow looked at him through her lashes, "Very funny, Xander." Giles took the glass from her and set it on the coffee table.

"I'd like you to stay here tonight, Willow," Giles said. "I'd like to keep an eye on that burn and I'd feel better knowing you had someone to wake you if you begin to dream again."

"I don't want to be a bother...," Willow began.

"Rubbish!" Giles interrupted her.

"D-do you really think I'll dream again?" she whispered, fingers plucking at the pillow.

"I really don't know," Giles lay his hand over hers. "Do you know what triggered this dream?" he asked.

Willow grimaced, "I think so."

"Can you tell me?" he gently pushed.

"I spoke to my parents this afternoon," she said, staring at the pillow. "They want me to transfer to Harvard. To help my father's professional reputation and standing. More prestigious than UC Sunnydale."

"I'm sorry, Willow," Giles said, squeezing her hand.

"Why can't they accept me the way I am?" she asked sadly.

"I don't know," Giles shook his head in disgust. "But you think that conversation triggered this memory, hence the dream?"

"It made me think about why I chose to stay here in the first place," Willow replied. "Wanting to help you and Buffy fight evil, and becoming a, a bad ass Wiccan," she tried to smile. "Though, telling my mother that her Jewish daughter was studying witchcraft wouldn't be the winning argument. I guess it just made me remember that...other time."

"Willow, can you tell me what Spike said?"

Unbidden tears pricked her eyes. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"He said," Xander began, his voice low, "he said we were still losers, and useless to Buffy."

"And you believed him?" Giles asked incredulously. "You're both smarter than that! You know Spike uses words as a weapon. Especially now. But you should also know that you, *both* of you, are indispensable to Buffy and me. Not only because of your assistance to our...cause, but because of your friendship. Don't *ever* doubt that," he squeezed Willow's hand. "Yes," he said, looking over at the bouncing ex-demon, "you, too, Anya."

"Thanks!" she smiled happily.

"Willow," he said seriously as he turned back to the tearful redhead, "please know that if you ever need to go to anyone, in a situation like this," he made a small motion with his hand, "or any other, you can come to me," he gently lay his hand on her head.

"Thank you, Giles," she leaned into him and he put both arms around her and hugged her.

***

Spike was leaning against the Watcher's apartment next to the front door, his head tipped back, resting on the cool stone, his knee bent and the sole of one booted foot flat against the wall. He took a deep drag off of the cigarette he held between his fingers, then blew it out.

He *hated* these people. He bloody well *did*! Then why did he feel so guilty because Willow had been hurt?

Watching her thrash about on the couch, and then hearing her scream...Bugger! He was the big bad! He *made* people scream. But this...this had unnerved him. And then, when he realized that she'd actually been burned, just like in her dream...

He couldn't stand the fear and confusion in her eyes, the pain she radiated. Because of him. Because she felt she couldn't come to him. She'd had a nightmare she couldn't escape from...because she had nowhere to go.

He heard her voice as she asked Xander what was happening and the demon girl's suggestion that it could be a vengeance wish. Spike growled as the whelp joked that making Willow need to go to Spike would be an inspired vengeance wish. Moron.

He crushed his cigarette out and lit another. He listened as the Watcher told Willow that he'd like her to spend the night on his couch, then tensed when Willow began to tell them what might have triggered the dream. Her parents? Her bloody *parents*? He wondered what had happened that 'other time' Willow mentioned.

He tensed again when he heard the Watcher ask what he had said to Willow that made her not want to come to him, no matter how much she needed to. He couldn't even remember himself. He listened intently as the moron spoke. 'Loser.' 'Useless to Buffy.' Yeah, he might've said something like that.

He said stuff like that all the time. Soddin' chip kept him from hurting humans any other way. Watcher was right. Words were his weapon. But why had he felt the need to hurt Willow? Because *he* felt useless, and she was being nice to him, and he'd just wanted to stake himself that night.

Ah, Watcher just told her that she could go to him. That was good right? She felt safe with the Watcher. He closed his eyes as he remembered the feel of her warm, soft body snuggled up against him. Yep, this was best, he thought as he angrily crushed the cigarette out. He stormed away from the apartment; he needed a spot of violence.

***

Spike showed up at the Watcher's apartment a week later. His presence had been requested for any information he had on a demon that the Slayer had run across. He was dreading the command performance, and if there wasn't his need for blood and smokes, he wouldn't have come.

He hadn't been sleeping well. The only thing that calmed him down, unsurprisingly, was a nice spot of violence, so he had spent a lot of time killing demons. But he still hadn't been able to sleep. He'd toss and turn, then dream of a warm, soft body snuggled up against him and wake in a cold sweat. Other times he dreamt that she was running and running with nowhere to go.

Soddin' poof is what he'd become. Caring what happened to a human. Bloody hell, wasn't natural! He dropped his cigarette and crushed it out under his boot, then opened the door without knocking and walked in. Willow was sitting alone at the table, but he could hear the Watcher puttering about in the kitchen.

Willow looked up when Spike opened the door and walked in, blushed, then hurriedly looked away. She hadn't seen him in over a week. Not since the night she'd gotten burned in her dream. She hadn't spent a single night alone since then, with either Buffy, Giles or Xander and Anya there to watch over her. She also hadn't had any dreams since then, thank the goddess, but still, she hadn't been getting much sleep. Too afraid to close her eyes for long.

Spike saw the blush spread across Willow's abnormally pale skin, and then noticed the dark circles under her eyes. He wondered if she'd had trouble sleeping, too. Silly chit was probably making herself stay awake so she wouldn't dream. He fidgeted in indecision for a second, then spoke.

"Can we talk?" he asked. Willow's head jerked up.

"Me?" she pointed to herself.

"Yes, bloody you!" Spike growled softly. This was bleedin' hard enough...oh, no! That better not be tears...sod all, it was! "Aw, Red, don't cry," he pleaded, running his hand through his hair nervously.

Willow tried unsuccessfully to blink back the tears before they fell. She hated this. It wasn't Spike. It wasn't. She was just...tired. She was so darn tired. She wanted just one good night's sleep. Goddess, please, just one. She wiped the tears off of her face, wishing she could crawl under the table.
"What do you want, Spike?" she asked sadly.

"Can we talk? Please?" he added.

"Talk," she said.

"Uh, outside," Spike said. No way he was gonna...apologize...bloody, soddin', wankin' ponce...in front of the Watcher. "Please," he gritted his teeth.

"Fine," Willow pushed her chair back. Spike pulled the door open and held it for her, then followed her out into the courtyard.

"What do you want?" she turned to face him, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes locked on his chin.

"I want...," he paused and tilted his head. "Could you look at me?" With a deep sigh, Willow raised her eyes to his. Better, although, maybe not. Willow's eyes were like deep, green pools that he found himself drowning in. He shook his head to clear it of whatever spell he was under and tried to start again.

"I wanna...apologize," he muttered, his voice going so low even he could barely hear it.

"What?" she asked.

"Bloody hell! I wanna apologize!" he practically yelled. Willow stood in shocked silence.

"Why?" she asked.

"What do you mean, why?"

"Why do you want to apologize? I mean, you enjoyed hurting me, right?" the tears were back and her voice cracked.. "Made you feel real good to make me feel bad. So why apologize?"

"You got hurt...," he started.

"So, you're just feeling guilty 'cause of a little burn? Well, don't!" She was angry. Angry because she was dreaming. Angry because she went to him in the first place. Angry because she was tired. Angry because she was afraid to fall asleep. Angry because she didn't know what was going on, and that scared her.

"'Cause you're only going to be sorry until the next time you need to hurt me to make yourself feel good!" she moved to walk around him and he grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Red, wait...,"
"Let me go!" she pulled on her arm. Spike tightened his grip just enough to keep her from leaving, but it was enough to hurt her.

"Ow! Bloody fucking hell!" he dropped to the ground and grabbed his head. Soddin' chip!

Willow started to walk away. Served him right, stupid vampire. But she hesitated and heard him whisper, "Bloody *didn't* make me feel good."

She should keep walking, she told herself. Instead, she turned around to see him looking up at her from his knees, the heel of his hand pressed against his forehead. She felt her heart soften. Stupid vampire, ha! Stupid Willow. She walked back until she was standing directly in front of him.

"You're a jerk, Spike," she said, looking into his blue eyes with teary green ones as she reached out and cradled his head in her hands, her fingers gently massaging him.

"Cor, luv," he groaned.

"Am I hurting you?" Willow's fingers froze, the irony of that question not lost on her.

"Don't stop!" he grabbed her hip and let his forehead fall against her stomach as she rubbed his aching head.

After a moment of silence, Spike spoke. "Didn't feel good seeing you hurting," he said. "Actually," he was glad he didn't have to look at her, "felt bloody awful. And then you had the dream, and you didn't come to me, not that I wanted you to," he denied, "except you were warm and all, and then you, you got hurt," he reached down and lightly touched her calf, careful not to touch the healing burn.

They were both silent.

"I told my friend Tara what happened," Willow spoke softly, "she's a witch, too, and she thinks I burned myself with my own magic," Willow snorted. "How stupid is that? I suck at magic. I can't do anything right. I even hurt myself in my sleep."

Spike tipped his head back and looked up at her. "You're not stupid, luv," he said. "Well, 'cept when you listen to me. Not now," he clarified, "meant the other time." Willow nodded in understanding. Spike rose gracefully to his feet and held her by the elbows.

"And you don't suck, you just need practice. And there's lots of stuff you do right!"

"Like what?" she asked.

"Well," he thought, "that pencil trick's pretty neat!" Despite herself, Willow felt her lips twitch.

"I made you kiss Buffy."

"Yeah, well, okay, that sucked," he agreed and Willow rewarded him with a slight smile. "Don't do that again, okay?"

"I won't," she shook her head.

"Right. Come here," he led her over to the fountain and sat down, pulling her down next to him. "Can I ask you something?"

"I guess," Willow squirmed under his intense gaze.

"What did you dream about?" he leaned forward so he could see her face.

"You mean, when I burned myself?" she asked. Spike nodded. "They were burning me at the stake. Me, Buffy and Amy."

"Who? Who was burning you?"

"Our parents," her voice cracked.

"It was just a dream, though, right?" Spike asked. "Red?" he prodded when she didn't answer.

"No. Really happened."

"What?! Why? When? How?" he was shocked. Her parents had actually tried to burn her at the stake? The dream, nightmare, had really happened?

"Last year. Demon, looked like two cute little kids, sort of possessed everybody, they felt really bad when it was all over, though," she nodded her head.

"I'll bet," Spike still couldn't believe it. "What happened? I mean, last year? I mean, you're here an' all," he pointed at her.

"Giles revealed the demon and the spell was broken. Cordy put out the fire just as it got to me. Xander and Oz fell out of the ceiling after it was all over," she smiled at that memory.

"But in the dream?"

"Nobody showed up. The fire...Tara thinks my magic went all..,"

"Wonky?" Spike supplied.

"Yeah, uh, wonky, because I couldn't get out of the dream. I couldn't wake up, nobody was coming to save us, and I couldn't...," she paused.

"You didn't have anywhere to go."

"Yeah. So I made it real. I don't know why that's happening," she ran her finger over the ring in a nervous gesture that had become habit by now. "I know it's probably really...annoying."

"Actually, not so bad," Spike had his elbows on his thighs and was looking down at the stones of the courtyard.

"Really?" Willow asked.

"Really," Spike turned his head to look at her.

"'Cause I'm warm?" Willow asked, her lips curling. Spike just raised his eyebrows and Willow blushed. "Oh, about that," she said, her eyes going wide as she remembered that morning at Xander's, "uh, well, sorry about that."

"Giles is gonna figure it out," she said after a couple of minutes, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt.

"Right," Spike agreed, even as he wondered if he wanted him to.

Chapter Five

Buffy and Riley showed up at Giles' apartment while Willow and Spike were talking. After some harsh words were exchanged between Buffy and Spike, making for an uncomfortable and tense situation, that is, the norm, the four of them entered the apartment together. They all settled in at the table and Giles had Buffy describe the demon she and Riley had run across the night before to Spike.

Though he didn't know how to kill it, Spike was familiar with the demon. He was able to give them enough information so Willow and Giles could research it and determine the best way for Buffy and Riley to slay it.

After Buffy and Riley left to patrol, and see if they could find the demon and kill it, Spike offered to walk Willow home.

"Y-you don't have to do that," Willow replied nervously. She was feeling a little bit embarrassed about the talk she and Spike had earlier. She'd yelled at him, then massaged his head when the chip fired, and told him things about herself she never would have thought she'd reveal. Goddess, she'd even cried in front of him.
"Know that, witch. Offered, didn't I?" Spike raised an eyebrow as he slipped into his duster.

"Uh, yeah," she responded. "Um, okay," she said with a look toward Giles from beneath her lashes. "Do you need me for anything else, Giles?"

"Hmm, what?" he looked up from the book he was avidly examining. "Sorry," he took his glasses off.

"That's okay," Willow smiled at him. "Spike's gonna walk me home if you don't need me anymore," she felt herself blushing as she spoke.

"Oh," he looked over at Spike, who stared back at him blankly, then back at Willow. "No, no, we're finished here, if you're sure...?"

"No problem, Watcher," Spike purposely misunderstood to whom he was directing the question, then turned toward Willow and waited patiently, well, alright, impatiently, for her to pack her book bag and get her jacket on.

The walk to the dorm was made in silence. Partly uncomfortable, because Willow had no idea what to say to Spike, and partly comfortable, because he didn't make her feel like she had to say anything. When they were standing at the bottom of the steps, Willow turned to look at him.

"Uh, thanks," she said.

"No problem," he took a drag off of the ever-present cigarette, looking at her from under his lashes.

"Well, I'd better go in," she waved her hand toward the door, making no move to leave.

"Yeah," Spike said. "I ain't staying with the moron any more," he suddenly blurted out.

"Yeah!" Willow looked up at him as if this were the most interesting thing in the world, "Xander mentioned that you moved out. Uh, where'd you go?"

"Crypt," he answered shortly.

"Crypt?" she replied.

"Yeah, you know, place in the cemetery? Crypt?"

"I know what a crypt *is*," she told him with a 'duh' look, "just wondered why you were living in one."

"No money, uh, besides," he recovered, didn't want her pitying him, "like the quiet."
"Uh huh," she said. "Um, how do you keep your blood cold?"

"Keep it in one of those styrofoam things," he took another drag, then dropped the cigarette to the sidewalk and crushed it beneath his boot.

"Oh, like a cooler," Willow said.

"Right," he looked at her and she looked at him.

"I should get inside...,"

"Well, I gotta get going...,"

"Uh, goodnight, Spike."

"'Night, Red."

***

Willow began sleeping soundly through the night after her talk with Spike. She was no longer afraid to fall asleep. It had been two weeks and she hadn't had another dream, thank the goddess. Until tonight, that is.

Willow lay on her bed, a pillow hugged to her chest, her mind buzzing. Oz was back. He'd shown up at Giles' that night while they were researching. Everyone had been happy to see him, especially her. After making polite conversation with the gang, he'd asked if they could talk and she'd agreed.

They went to the Espresso Pump and had mochachinos. Oz told her about where he'd been, the things he'd seen...and what he'd learned about controlling the wolf. In return, her fingers nervously playing with the ring, she told him everything that had been happening in Sunnydale since he left. Her classes, the demons they'd fought, the Initiative, but something made her leave out her dreams and the sleepwalking.

She had been so excited and happy to see him, she couldn't stop smiling. Then it happened. The thing that she had hoped and prayed would happen since the day he left. He said he missed her, that he loved her, and wanted another chance. She opened her mouth to tell him 'yes, absolutely, no question', and heard herself say 'no'.

They both looked at each other in shock. Oz had been so sure she'd take him back. And so had she. Oz coming back to her was all she thought about. She couldn't believe she just told him 'no'.

"I-I...," Willow began, not really knowing what to say. "I do love you, Oz, I-I care about you deeply, but...I don't trust you anymore. You, you hurt me," she tore off a corner of the napkin and rolled it between her fingers. "You cheated on me, and you left me. You never called. I mean, I know you had to leave...for you, and I'm glad that worked out. But I was miserable, and I can't just pretend that none of that ever happened," Willow babbled as she tore the napkin into confetti. "If you stay in Sunnydale, I'd like us to be friends...and maybe more. But not right now," she finished, looking at him hopefully. And he hadn't disappointed her.

"You're right," he'd calmly replied. "It's hard for me to actually say that, 'cause I pictured the whole reunion thing with 'open arms' and lots of kissing," his tone was even, not reflecting any of his inner turmoil. "But I realize that I've had a lot of time to think things through, and it wouldn't be fair of me not to give you that same consideration."

They had smiled at each other. Smiles both happy and sad at the same time. Oz had walked her to her dorm and left, promising to see her the next day. Willow watched him from the top of the steps until he disappeared into the darkness, then went up to her room. She'd gotten ready for bed in a daze and now lay on the bed, thinking. She closed her eyes.

She wondered why she couldn't put it all behind her. She loved Oz, probably always would. He was her first love, except for that crush on Xander. But, in her heart of hearts she believed he would always seek out one of his own kind. Another werewolf. And she just couldn't go through that again.
Willow jerked awake when she heard the howling of the wolf. She looked out the window and saw the full moon, then heard the familiar howl again. She stood, walked to the window, and looked out. A white wolf, no, werewolf, was pacing the ground beneath her window, stopping every once in a while to howl it's anger at the moon.

As Willow stood there, it looked up and saw her. Willow saw the hate-filled yellow eyes and gasped. The werewolf backed up, it's eyes locked on Willow's. It got a running start and leapt. Willow screamed when she realized that the wolf was going to smash through the window. She backed up until she ran into the door.

Without looking, she reached behind her, turned the knob, and pulled the door open. Willow heard the sound of breaking glass and the growling of the werewolf as she sprinted down the hall. She wasn't sure how she knew who it was, but she did. Veruca. And she still wanted to kill her. Or, would that be, again? She had to get away from her. She needed to find someone who could save her.

***

Spike was wandering through the cemetery on his way back to his crypt. He had a cigarette in one hand and an axe he'd knicked from the Watcher in the other. It was a handy little weapon and, although he didn't need a weapon to kill other demons, it just made him feel all manly, he smirked to himself. He suddenly stopped walking, tilted his head and sniffed the air.

Fear, he grinned. Cor, how he loved that smell. And missed it, he kicked the ground, his grin suddenly dissolving. He started walking toward the strong scent, deciding to go see who had gotten lucky. He moved closer and closer to the scent, surprised that he didn't hear any screaming accompanying the fear. Screams were nice, too.

And then he saw her. Willow was running through the cemetery like all the hounds of hell were on her trail. As she got closer, he could hear the mewling coming from deep in her throat and see the terror in her eyes. He knew the moment she caught sight of him, her direction changing just enough to bring her straight at him.

"Spike!" she screamed, and it would have been lovely, if it hadn't been Willow. He was a right ponce, just like his wanker of a sire. He wasn't sure when, or how, but the little witch had gotten under his skin and he couldn't bear the thought of anyone hurting her. Even him.

He looked behind her, just to make sure there wasn't anything there, then dropped the axe and braced himself, just in time to catch her as she flung herself into his arms.

"She's coming, she's coming, she's coming," Willow was mumbling to herself, over and over. Spike thanked hell that he didn't have to breathe when Willow buried her face in his neck, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, holding on tight with a grip he wouldn't have thought possible in the small girl. He wrapped his arms around her back and held her close.

"Who's coming?" he asked, though it came out kind of strangled.

"Veruca, wolf-Veruca. She's going to kill me. Again," Willow said breathlessly against his neck, squeezing him tighter, if that was at all possible.

"Isn't she dead, luv?" Spike asked. Willow tensed.

"Dead things can kill you," she whispered hoarsely. Well, Spike couldn't dispute that, so he decided to try and find out what had happened to make her dream. He wasn't sure if she was still caught up in the dream or if she had woken.

"What happened, pet?" he asked softly, stepping over to a headstone and leaning against it.

"Oz," she whispered. "Oz came back. He wanted to get back together. But she still wants him. She's angry," Spike felt her shift around and knew that if she could, she would have buried herself inside him, so fearful was she.

"Ah," he said gently, his hands rubbing her back, trying to calm her. "You and the wolf got back together, then." For some reason, that thought made him a little sad. She wouldn't need him anymore. And he should be glad of that. He didn't need to be a soddin' babysitter!

"No," Willow said. "I said 'no', but she still wants to kill me," he could feel her heart pounding against his chest.
He knew he should probably concentrate on her fear of being killed, but he was so shocked by what she said, that she had turned the wolf down, that he couldn't think of anything else. And he didn't want to think about why that made him happy.

"Uh, why'd you say 'no', pet?" he asked curiously.

"L-lots of reasons," she said. "Y-you won't let her kill me, will you?" she released her grip enough to lean back and look at him.

"'Course not, luv," he assured her, one hand moving up to her neck to steady her as she leaned back.

"Thank you, Spike," she smiled at him in relief. Bloody hell, she was beautiful when she smiled like that. "Thank you," she whispered and then she was kissing him, her closed lips pressed to his.

What the fuck? And then her lips weren't closed anymore. She parted her lips and ran her tongue over his. He opened his mouth to ask her what she was doing and she took advantage, slipping her tongue between his lips to caress his mouth. Her hands moved up his neck and into his hair, holding him as she kissed him.

Her kiss was gentle as she explored his mouth, her tongue running over his teeth, touching his cheeks and the roof of his mouth before tangling with his. Spike was shocked. Shocked that she was kissing him. Even more shocked that he wanted to kiss her back. But that didn't last long, he was a vampire, after all.

He tightened his grip on her neck, tilted his head and kissed her back more deeply, delving into her mouth, to explore, taste, claim. Willow responded to his touch by becoming more forceful herself, kissing him with a wild abandon he'd never imagined possible in the shy little witch. Her hands tightened in his hair as her legs tightened around his waist, her tongue dancing with his as she pressed herself against him.

Spike moaned into her mouth and placed his hand on her ass, lifting her and rubbing her against him as he took her mouth. Suddenly she stopped kissing him. Spike froze, expecting her to get all weepy, or yell at him, but nothing. He pulled back in confusion and her head lolled forward, resting on his shoulder.

"Bloody hell," he groaned as he realized she'd fallen asleep. "Bloody fuck!" he hissed in frustration, his cock throbbing, as he kicked his foot backward, barely catching himself and his precious armful from falling to the ground as the headstone crumpled beneath him.

Continue

Return to Round Winners

Return to Listing