Title: In The Company Of Wolves
Author: Jonquil
Email: serpyllum@yahoo.com
Distribution: Just ask.
Rating: R (strong language, violence, sexual references)
Spoilers: Fourth season, post-Oz, pre-Tara
Summary: Willow has re-fanged Spike, and must deal with the consequences. Sequel to "Blinded By Science".
Feedback: reinforces the desired behavior.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to large corporations, and were created by the brilliant writers for Buffy and Angel.

Chapter 14


Willow had expected Spike to make a point of waking up first the next evening. She hadn't expected him to bring her coffee in bed.

"What's the occasion?"

Spike arched an eyebrow. "The coffee's poisoned, luv. You get to guess which cup."

Willow played along. "Wouldn't that make my blood all poisonous?"

He smirked. "Vampires can't be poisoned."

She smirked back. "Well, I only drink decaf, so you get to drink both of them."

He pursed his lips. "Hardly worth poisoning decaf, is it? Arsenic'd be the only flavor in the cup."

"Arsenic? How old-fashioned. You couldn't use botulin toxin, or thallium?"

"The old ways still work, pet. As it happens, the cup closest to you is decaf."

Willow smiled at him and took a sip. It tasted ... not like much, being decaf, but at least it was hot. "Thank you."

He sipped from his cup, then grinned. "You really shouldn't take drinks from strange men, luv."

Willow stopped smiling. "There isn't really something in it, is there? Because that's cheating."

"Yet another lovely feature of being a vampire. We cheat." As Willow surged to her feet, he grabbed the wrist holding the cup, narrowly preventing a spill. "I lied. It's coffee, nothing more."

Willow sat and glared at him. "Does everything have to be such a big I-Am-Evil production number? You were being nice, then you ruined it."

Spike sneered. "'Nice' isn't on the menu."

Oh. Then I suppose that fish is a figment of my imagination. She had the sense not to say it out loud. I think he's ashamed when he does something kind. I am never going to understand vampires.

She finished the cup, rose, and began looking for clean clothes.

"You're not dressing before I've seen your back."

Without turning, she retorted, "I'll leave it to your imagination."

"That wasn't a request."

She sighed and returned to the bed. "When are you going to let me alone?"

"When I see you move without wincing." He scooped the arnica from his duster pocket, then stripped the shirt from her back. He was silent for a long moment; when he spoke, his voice was deeper than usual. "Quite the sunset you've got there."

"Luckily, I can't see it, and nobody else will."

Spike ran a fingernail up her back. She jumped.

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"I'm not 'nobody', pet."

Willow sighed. "No. I said 'nobody else'. That leaves out me and you." Touchy, isn't he? "Where are we going, anyway?"

"There's always Rafe's."

Willow whirled, hastily grabbing the sheet to her chest. "That is NOT funny. And if you're serious, then I'm invoking the Mutually Assured Destruction clause. I don't ever want to go there again, and I mean it."

Spike held her gaze in silence for a long, uncomfortable minute. "Don't threaten, luv. It only warns your opponent. Strike, or be silent."

She lifted her chin defiantly. "You threaten me all the time."

He shrugged. "Didn't consider you dangerous."

Willow beamed. "That's changed?"

Spike didn't. "Yes."

"Wow. I've never been dangerous before." She bounced happily on the bed, then paused, struck by a thought. "Hey, wait a minute. You threatened Buffy."

"Do as I say, not as I do." He dropped his gaze to her sheet-draped body. "Dress, and we'll go."

Willow gave him her resolve face. "Not to Rafe's."

He met it. "No."

Willow turned away, then grabbed the green silk shirt, clean underwear, and jeans, and headed for the bathroom to change. After she was dressed, she started to brush her hair, then winced. It still hurt to raise her arms. She came out.

"Spike?"

"Yes?" He'd dressed, and was having a cigarette on the edge of the bed. It's a wonder he hasn't burnt the place down by now.

"Would you do my hair again?"

He smiled. For once, it wasn't a smirk. "If you insist."

That evening, Spike was restless. They moved from place to place, never staying more than a few minutes. After he'd visited and rejected most of the underground city, Spike growled in disgust and began retracing their steps. To Willow's surprise, instead of returning to the apartment, Spike led her to the car.

"I'd forgotten all about that."

"Can't find parking in the city. Thought we might get away for a bit."

Willow gasped, "What about my fish? And a toothbrush?"

"You really do have a responsibility problem, pet. Fine, fetch the bloody fish, it won't take up much room."

They made a hasty visit to the apartment, threw together a suitcase for Willow, tucked the fishbowl into a Baggie, and settled into the car. Spike concentrated on navigating out of the city; after a long quiet while, Willow broke the silence.

"Spike?"

"Hmm?" He flicked a glance sideways.

"If you hadn't kidnapped me, what would you be doing?"

"Sorry, pet, pretty much what I am doing. Haven't been letting you cramp my style."

"You wouldn't be looking for Drusilla?"

His face shut. Oops. "Let's call that subject closed, shall we?"

Willow sighed. Talking to Spike was a bit like waltzing through a minefield, except that half the mines were hers. What with topics she didn't want to talk about (death, dismemberment, torture) and topics he didn't want to talk about (Drusilla, his plans for the future, why evil was a bad thing), silence seemed by far the easiest solution.

"Pet?"

The redhead gave him a wary glance. "Yes?"

"What are your plans after the year?"

The girl winced. "That's too far away to think about."

He laughed. "Had you picked for the plan-everything-out-five-years-in-advance type."

Her voice was flat. "There doesn't seem to be much point in that any more."

"What, no dreams? The wolf rides in on a white horse -- "

"Stop it." Her voice was tight. "If I don't poke your wounds, you don't get to poke mine."

"My car, my rules, pet."

"Fine. I'm planning on becoming Miss America, after which I launch a nationwide campaign to stamp out illiteracy. Then I restart the Moon landing program, and take the first flight myself."

"Aren't you a bit small for an astronaut?"

"Yes, and I'm a bit plain for Miss America. So why don't we talk about the weather?"

Spike pulled to the side of the road and cut the engine. "What is your problem tonight?"

She turned to look at him. "I'm a thousand miles from my friends, you're probably going to kill me, and I can't even check my Perl scripts. Is that enough, or do you want the whole list?"

"Bloody hell, girl, if I wanted to kill you you'd be dead. What do I have to do, tattoo that on the back of your hand?"

"Why should I believe you? You're so proud of lying all the time, why should you tell the truth about this?"

"Because I can think of better things to do with your body." He leaned over, grabbed her chin, and gave her a hard kiss. She opened her mouth, probably to protest, and he took advantage.

Her mouth was warm, sweet, and uncooperative. Which was fine -- he had more than enough time to convince her of the error of her ways. He finished a leisurely exploration of her mouth, then released her and looked into her green eyes. Instead of the rapture that he was hoping for, or even acquiescence, he saw fury. Well, so much for the easy way...

"This is an improvement? You're not going to murder me, you're going to rape me instead?" She spat the words.

"I'm not trying to rape you, I'm bloody well trying to seduce you!"

She glared. "And the difference is?"

"In one case, you're enjoying yourself."

"We can rule that case right out."

"Can we?" He recaptured her mouth. This time, she tried to bite him. He bit back. She flinched. Oh, sod, human rules. He let go.

"Spike. I don't love you. Right now, I don't even like you. I am not willing, and this is not going anywhere unless you force me." Her eyes made the rest of the threat plain.

"Fine." He threw the car back into gear and sped off down the road.




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