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 19


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.