Title: A Damned Interlude
Author: Karen
Email: Coe42@aol.com
Distribution: Ask me.
Rating: PG-13.
Feedback: Yes please.
Disclaimer: The Damned Series is mine. Joss owns the characters.
Author's Note: This is a brief interlude between The Morning After . . . And Then Some and the Chase. I wrote this for Athena I think? You wanted the W/S story? Right?

Sometimes I would see him. Ya know after the whole thing in the mansion where he sucked my blood. Actually that's purposely crude. I just don't like to think about it the way it actually was. I mean me, Willow Rosenberg, everyone's favorite door matt offering herself up to him like some kinda weird virgin sacrifice, please! And still the feeling of his lips against my throat and his arms around me sometimes comes back suddenly. Like an acid flash back without all the pretty colors. Not that I would know, but I've read about it . . . and nevermind.

Shivering, I lean against my window sill and stare up at the full moon. Damn it. The moon brings back the image of me standing in my nightgown in the cold with his lips pressed against my bleeding forehead. Sure Oz lay unconscious and wolfie and Drusilla sat bleeding in a tree. Snapping my fingers, a bit of magical flame appears. Things have changed. I'm not so innocent or so powerless anymore. Like I was when we were trapped together in that basement tomb. I'm stronger, less innocent and yet I feel the same sometimes. Frightened and confused and something in me likes it.

Tonight was just more of the same. His eyes had blazed out of the darkness. No one had seen him at first. No one but me. His presence sort of filled the abandoned warehouse. Then Buffy had spotted him. Ice water poured into every part of me. Because she went after him. The fight was quick. She almost had him, my friend Buffy had almost rammed a stake into his heart. It was too bad about that stack of boxes had to choose that instant to fall. They crashed down everywhere. Buffy lost Spike in the scuffle . . . unfortunately.

The wind is howling again. Or is that Oz? I imagine he's pacing the library now. I really need to go and sit with him. I love him you know. But now I have these feelings for a vampire. I don't even know what they are. Maybe it's just a respect or a friendship or I don't know. Who cares? At least it's edged thoughts of Xander permanently out of my mind. I wonder where he is now? Spike. Not Xander. Xander's at the library with everyone else.

A soft voice calls to me. Cloaked in shadows it whispers my name. I turn to see him. Somehow I knew Spike would turn up. Maybe that's why I had avoided the library. His blue eyes resolved themselves into pale flesh and I couldn't help the smile. The black duster whirled out like a flag, or a liquid shadow detached from it's fellows. I'm starting to think my inner thoughts are too melodramatic. Mental note: use less descriptive words to describe Spike like evil, vampire and should be dusted by now.

"Hello Red." I hated when he called me that. It was too intimate for an enemy.

"Spike." Be noncommittal. Be unresponsive. Right. I could feel my insides fall into pools of Jell-O.

"Nice save." He breathed. Somehow he looked unsure of himself. "The spell to knock the boxes was brilliant."

"So you came to thank me? I didn't have anything to do with it." There was a slight tremor in my voice. Liar it whispered. "You just have good luck."

He laughed. It was short and harsh. Lighting a cigarette, Spike frowned. "Right, love. Anything you say."

I thought of Oz locked up in the library. This conversation was disloyal. My heart swelled with love for my furry boyfriend. The weird feelings would have to go away. I loved Oz and this was just wrong. "So you should go. . . Away now."

Spike blinked in surprise. The cigarette hit the pavement. Crushing it he grinned. It wasn't pleasant. Then like lightening he lashed out and grabbed my hair. I whimpered and hated myself for it. His lips met mine. It was a quick searing kiss. Then he dropped me. Shaken, I lay in a puddle on the pavement. I felt odd, like he had branded me. It was dark and it did burn. My soul ached.

"G'night Lady Luck. Don't forget. I have a promise to keep." Spike slipped into the shadows and became one of them.

Tears spilled down my face. One day he would come back for me. That's the promise, the only promise he ever made me. Confused, I swore the next time I'd let Buffy stake him. Anything was better than this blinding confusion and his damned hands touching my soul. Scrambling to my feet, I bolted for the library. I swore Spike's lucky streak would come to an end someday. Because Buffy would kill him. Or Oz would kill him. Anything to keep me out of his arms where I desperately wanted to be.

The End.