Title: Sweet Hereafter
Author: Eve
Email: alfa_fighter_3@hotmail.com
Pairing: W/A/S
Rating: NC-17 overall
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own all characters from BtVS and A:tS, the rest are mine.
Author's Notes: In my world, there was no Tara, no Glory, and Angel has been in love with Willow since she brought him back from Hell
Feedback: Writers need feedback like mere mortals need air. :-P
Summary: Fifteen years after the opening of the Hellmouth, Willow, Spike, and Angel meet again

Chapter 10


Penelope shut Mac's bedroom door behind her and went to sit with Sean at the kitchen table. He pushed a mug of hot chocolate toward her.

"So. Pretty wild night, huh?"

"Yeah. I guess so."

"Mac asleep?"

"Once your spell wore off he was out like a light."

He frowned into his own mug. "Think he'll be all right?"

"With his accelerated healing? He'll be fine."

Penelope stared off into space. Mac would be okay, although the blow would have injured or killed a human. And Spike wouldn't have cared. He hadn't thought twice about throwing the big man over his head into the alley. Her hand curled tightly around her mug. That he was out there, free, roaming around, killing. . . It drove her mad. Yes, he was one of the 'good guys' now, but that didn't make up for all of the awful things he'd done in the past. And if that chip were ever removed, what was to stop him from killing humans? His love for Willow? That was a laugh. Creatures without souls were incapable of love. Obsession, maybe, but love? Never.

"Pen? You OK?"

She glanced up at the worried eyes of her coworker and smiled weakly. "Sorry. I'm just preoccupied."

"No doubt," he said, leaning back to stretch. "Our first big job as a team and we were completely useless. I bet Angel's brimming with confidence."

"I wouldn't say completely useless--"

"Come on, Pen. Spike tossed Mac around like a rag doll, my magic had no effect on him, and I'm pretty sure he could have taken me out in a second if it wasn't for Angel. As it was, Angel had enough trouble with Spike. And Angel is supposed to be way stronger than his own Childe. How are we supposed to fight that? What have we gotten ourselves into?"

"You want to quit before we've even begun?" she snapped. As Sean's ashamed silence filled the room, she took a deep breath and calmed herself. "Look. Spike is different. He has magical protection from one of the most powerful witches there is. No doubt she lets him drink from her, so he's getting doses of powerful blood. And yes, Angel is strong, but he lives on animal blood. Human blood is much more powerful."

"So in a word, Spike's pretty powerful?" He grinned at her. "I think what you're trying to tell me is that what we faced last night is not something that we're going to face on a regular basis."

"Not unless Spike keeps trying to kill Angel."

"Yeah, but Angel seems pretty relaxed about the whole thing. After all, he brought Spike to his hotel room. And I think Willow would stop anyone from getting hurt."

If anyone means Spike. "Are you forgetting that she threatened to kill you?" He fell silent again. Penelope stood and straightened her dress, hoping she had enough money in her walled for a cab. She followed Sean's line of sight to her bare feet.

"Do you want to crash here? You can have my bed, I'll take the couch."

She shook her head. "I'm going to go check on Seth before I head home. See you tomorrow."

Her feet guided her out of the apartment, down the stairs, and out onto the sidewalk to hail a cab. Her mind was filled with thoughts of Spike. How much about him, and about the bond would Willow reveal? The whole purpose of coming to work for Angel was to gather information about Spike, maybe have the chance to confront him. Having to see him on a regular basis and even having to work with him were not what she had in mind. Keep your enemies closer, she told herself. So close that they won't know what hit them.




The click-clacking of the keyboard could be heard in the hall. It echoed throughout the corridor, bouncing off the worn floor, the long row of doors, and fading away to silence.

She hated this place at night. It looked sterile and uninhabitable, the dim lights still managing to glare off the white surfaces. It was like in one of those horror movies where the supporting actress was lost and looking for her friends, foolishly calling out "Is anyone there?" and drawing the attention of the vicious axe murderer. And then he begins to chase her, and all the doors are locked except one, so she locks it behind her, but when she turns around he's right there, and chops her into little bits while she screams and screams . . .

The gooseflesh raised on Penelope's arms as she realized that the clacking had stopped, and all she could hear was her own shallow breathing. Way to psych yourself out, Pen. And for my next number, I'll run screaming from the building.

She nearly did just that as the deadbolt at her elbow disengaged, ringing out like a gunshot in the silence. Or at the least, a really big bb gun. Heart pounding, she whipped her head to the side to see Seth staring out at her from the crack in the doorway. The fear on her face must have been obvious, because he opened the door further while backing away and whispered, "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

After a beat, she shook herself and followed him inside. She didn't bother to argue with him, or try to come up with an excuse. She didn't have to play the Watcher or the tough girl around Seth. She could be herself: flaw, foibles, fears of quiet buildings, and all. He wouldn't tell anyone. Sometimes she wondered if he was actually aware of everything that went on around him. Then again, she hadn't told him she was coming, and her bare feet hadn't made a sound in the hallway. Yet, he'd known she was there. Maybe he was a little too aware.

Seth immediately went to his computer and resumed typing. Penelope settled herself on the end of his tiny bed and watched his fingers flying over the keys. Sometimes when she showed up, he would be researching demons, or mysterious disappearances, or the latest government conspiracy theory. Other times he would just sit and stare at the screen, unblinking. This time he was writing something, filling up the screen faster than her eyes could follow.

She remembered how hard they'd fought to get Seth his computer. Like giving a lockpick to a thief, the judge said, or a gun to a robber. As if Seth had ever intentionally hurt anyone in his life. And then they had to convince the staff of the halfway house that he wasn't going to electrocute himself, or hang himself with the mouse cord, or any of the other ludicrous ideas they had come up with. And the people they looked after were supposed to be the sick ones?

She was perfectly content to sit and lose herself in thought. Seth would work until he could no longer keep his eyes open, and then she would tuck him into bed, wrapping her arms around him to keep him safe from the demons. Outside the window and inside his head. So many issues had come to light with the sudden appearance of Willow and Spike. Things in the past, things that were yet to come. For a brief second she wished she'd never come to work for Angel, had never came to the States, had never joined the Watcher's Council. What would life be like then? She wouldn't have to run through the streets in her bare feet, wouldn't have to face death fighting monsters and demons. Wouldn't even have to know they existed. Then the oath came back to her, generations of suppressed anger flooding her tiny body, determination to bring honor to her family overriding everything else.

"Angry."

It was so quiet that she wasn't sure she heard it. Still, she was alarmed by Seth's sudden telepathic abilities. "What?"

"He's angry." He didn't turn from the computer.

Good. He wasn't talking about her.

"Well, he was angry. N-now he's not. But everyone else is. Angry, I-I-I mean. Like his anger dissipated into the air, and-and . . . infected everyone." He stopped typing. "Well, not really infected. Because anger isn't infectious, not like the flu. You can get really sick from the flu. At least, that's what the nurses tell me, but I won't let them stick me with that needle. Don't want them to hurt me." He swiveled the chair to look at her. "Don't let them put anything in me. They'll make me crazy."

Penelope smiled warmly, amused by the twists his thoughts took. "No one's going to hurt you Seth."

One day your probation will be up, and I'll get you out of this loony bin, into a real apartment, with all the computers you would ever want, and no one's going to make you do anything ever again. Then his initial words hit her.

"What do you mean, everyone's angry?"

He just shrugged and turned back to the computer, mumbling to himself. When he didn't answer her, she stood and went to stand behind him, wincing at the coldness of the floor. The screen was full of 0's and 1's in no apparent order. None that she could see, anyway. It looked like . . .

"Seth? What are you writing?"

He flinched as she touched his shoulder, causing her to pull away. What on earth was Seth writing binary code for?




Willow stared out the window, hugging herself tightly. She wasn't physically cold, yet a chill hung in the air. Her breath created a fog on the window, temporarily obscuring her view of the city below. Even after trudging through its dark and dirty streets night after night, the sheer volume of New York still had the power to amaze her. She was blown away by the amount of activity, no matter what time day or night. And the weather, well, lets just say that sweaters and jackets were no longer 'only' a fashion statement.

She surveyed the thousands of twinkling lights and wondered where Angel was among them. With every passing second that the sky lightened, her apprehension grew. He'd been gone for hours. Most of which she had spent staring out this window, wishing he would return so she could explain why she'd pushed him away. Even when she wanted nothing more than to leap into his arms and wrap her legs around him, she could never betray Spike like that. Her last betrayal had ruined two relationships and nearly gotten Cordelia killed. No, she couldn't do that to Spike.

The only way she could consider being with Angel was if Spike approved somehow. Despite piquing his interest with the idea of a threesome, Willow doubted that Spike would actually endorse any sort of relationship involving his Sire. The history between the vampires was too rocky, too full of hurt and betrayal. There was that word again. Betrayal.

She sighed and leaned her forehead against the glass. Spike had never forgiven Angel for abandoning his undead family after receiving his soul. Had never forgiven him for his actions during the brief period when he lost it. Had never forgiven him for destroying the Gem of Amara when he was soul having again. Seems like there was no pleasing Spike, she thought with a tired smile.

A small sound from behind drew her attention. Spike was leaning in the doorway, trying to look casual even though she could feel his emotions churning beneath the surface. It was pointless to try to hide from each other. The bond was just too strong. And that strength went both ways. He could sense her thoughts just as easily as she could sense his.

"I'm sure he's all right. He might be a Poof, but he's not stupid. Can't say the same for myself, though."

Relief coursed through her body. He was speaking to her. He'd been hurt when she pulled away, denying him the pleasure of tasting her. He hadn't said a word as she drained the tub, toweled him off, and wrapped him in a fluffy hotel robe. She'd never seen him so compliant. It was so unlike Spike that it was frightening. Almost enough to make her forget why she was mad at him in the first place. Almost, but not quite. His obvious remorse was enough, however, to make her want to forgive his sorry ass.

Before she could say a word, he turned and disappeared back into the bedroom. She followed a minute later and found him sitting on the bed, hunched and tense. His posture practically screamed stay away, so she took up his place in the doorway.

"Spike," she whispered. He didn't move. For a second she thought maybe he hadn't heard her, so she opened her mouth to call him again. A sudden torrent of thoughts and feelings rushed at her, so strong and fast that she had to dig her fingers into the doorframe to keep from falling back. She didn't catch all of his frantic thoughts, but the gist was clear enough. He was sorry. So incredibly sorry that he'd never leave her again, even if it meant standing by her side as the sun came up. So sorry that even if she beat him to a pulp and blasted him to bits he'd just come back and take it some more. All to be with her. He loved her beyond belief or reason and didn't want to spend eternity on earth unless she was with him. If anything ever happened to her he'd stake himself in an instant.

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. She knew he loved her. But she didn't really realize just how much. And the most amazing thing was that he loved her as much as she loved him. There would never be a world with only one of them. If one perished, the other would follow unwaveringly.

Before she even knew she was moving, she was at his side, touching him, lowering her mouth for a kiss too long in coming. He resisted her at first, insisting they had to talk. They had issues. They needed to straighten things out. She had no idea what he was talking about. She knew how he felt. Now it was her turn to show him how she felt.

Gradually he fell back under her onslaught, groaning in surrender. She reached between them and wrestled his robe open, eyes devouring exposed flesh. The worst of his cuts and bruises were still evident, so with nails kept long for just such a purpose, she slashed a line across her jugular. The immediate sting faded as cool lips found her throat and she was thrown into a whirlpool of sensation.

She clung to him, the silk sheets bunching beneath their bodies as they moved. There was something wicked about being with Spike in Angel's bed. Naughty. Knowing that Angel would be able to smell them when he laid his head to rest during the day. Worries about Angel faded as she lost herself in Spike. His mouth, his tongue, sent fire racing through her veins, left heat pooling between her thighs. She felt herself being lifted, rolled onto her back. Her shirt disappeared and Spike was licking a trail from her throat to her breasts. He nipped gently at her bite marks and then vamped, letting his razor canines pierce the wounds. Her back arched off the bed. So close. So close he wouldn't even have to touch her. Her hands clawed over his back, curled tightly in his blond hair. She would have opened her eyes to look at him, to see that one thing that was nearly more erotic than having him inside her, but the lids wouldn't lift. She was coiled tightly like a spring, watching the incredible bursts of fireworks behind her eyelids.

Willow climbed impossibly higher, hoping this would never end, but knowing she couldn't take much more. Suddenly she felt Spike's cool length sliding inside her and her eyes flew open. She couldn't remember where her pants had gone, but it didn't matter because he was staring down at her, eyes burning with an intensity she hadn't seen before. They stared deeply at each other, keeping completely still. This was going to change things. It wasn't just about sex anymore, and they both knew it.

'Love you,' she mouthed, reaching up to trace her fingers over the lines of his face. In her deepest heart of hearts, she'd wanted Spike from the minute she laid eyes on him. He was sexy as hell, and bad, and dangerous--everything she wasn't. He nuzzled into her palm, and she had to wonder what quirk of nature had created demons who looked like angels.

He hissed in a breath as her inner walls began to clench around him. She couldn't help it, and in retaliation he ground his hips against her clit. At her gasp he lowered himself, letting his muscled chest rub over her pebbled nipples, and chuckled in her ear.

Oh please, she begged silently. Goddess Spike. I need you.

"I love you," he whispered, and then he was moving in her, long, slow strokes that made her eyes roll back in her head. She arched up to meet his every plunge into her willing body. Their lips met, tongues tangling fiercely, bodies thrusting, fingers clutching. He swallowed her cries of passion as she tumbled into sweet release yelling his name. He came an instant later, jerking spasmodically as he emptied himself in her. They became completely still, clinging tightly to each other. After a moment Spike raised his head and they stared at each other with sated eyes full of love.




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