Of Sunnydale And Switzerland
"Look, Daddy," said Zuzu Bailey. "Teacher says, every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings."
George Bailey smiled and bounced the child on his hip. "That's right, that's right." He looked heavenward. "Attaboy, Clarence."
"Attaboy, Clarence," Spike mimicked, forcefully hitting the off button on the remote. "Stupid bloody film. All sugar plums an' candy canes." A bottle of beer dangled between his fingers and he lifted it to his lips scowling to discover it was empty.
It's A Wonderful Life the one film to guarantee that Christmas was once again upon the world. Spike's scowl deepened. George Bailey had it alright, but what about him; stuck in a dank, dark, lonely crypt all by himself. No one to massacre carol singers with. No-one to wreak havoc in church with. No –one to drink with and celebrate with. It was just him on his own on the poxy Hellmouth with a sodding chip in his head which stopped him being a real vampire.
He thought bitterly of the humans, they were probably all with their families right now; the Slayer, the Watcher, the moron, the ex-demon, the witch. Spike's head lifted at the thought of the witch. Willow was Jewish, Willow wouldn't be celebrating the holidays, Willow's parents were notorious for leaving her all alone.
Spike brightened, there was someone who was probably as miserable as he was; there was the witch.
Grabbing his coat and kicking the empty beer bottle out of his way Spike left the crypt.
Had his life really come to this? Had he really sunk so low as to go seeking out the witch, the Slayer's best friend for some company?
Turns out life was just that miserable and depressing as Spike found himself heading straight for Willow's house. She had moved out of the college dormitory for the holidays and back into her childhood home. Spike crossed his fingers that she hadn't gone to the Slayer's for the evening. His jaw clenched at the thought, he could just seem them all tucked up on the sofa with popcorn and fizzy drinks and chocolate, all warm and cosy watching some stupid girly film giggling together and having fun when he was stuck out in the cold on his own.
Not that he wanted to snuggle up with the witch and the Slayer and watch girly rubbish, but it would be nice to have someone think to at least invite him in for a drink.
They never did though; he was a nuisance to be tolerated because he could, sometimes, be of use. Spike let out a growl, he was Spike, Slayer of Slayers, William the Bloody, and he was feeling slighted by a few little do gooder humans because they hadn't even said Merry Christmas to him.
His life was really going to the dogs lately. Spike was rather ashamed of himself. But he still went to the Rosenberg house, a wave of relief washing over him when he saw the light peeking around the curtains in the front room.
Spike paused before he knocked the door, what if the moron was with her? He shook his head and dismissed the thought, the moron would be with Anya. Hopefully it was just Willow all by herself as much in need of some company as he was. Spike knocked and waited.
A few moments later he heard the shuffling of feet and a heart beat on the other side of the door. The door opened and Willow peered out, a look of surprise crossing her face to find him standing on the porch.
"Spike! Wha… what are you doing here?"
"Was passin', saw a light, knocked the door."
"Oh. Well, come in, Spike."
"Don't mind if I do." Spike stepped over the threshold his lips curling into a smirk when he took in the oversized Tweety-Pie t-shirt she wore.
She looked slightly embarrassed, but defiance flared in her eyes as she shut the door behind him. Spike kept his comments to himself, he didn't want her kicking him out when he had just been invited in. He followed her into the living room where she had a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table with a glass of juice and book face down to mark her page.
Spike helped himself to a handful of popcorn and flopped on the sofa. "Nothin' good on the telly 'en?"
"I don't know," Willow said taking a seat next to him in the corner of the sofa. "I've been reading. What have you been up to?"
She had tried to keep the suspicion out of her voice but she didn't quite pull it off and it made Spike grin. It soothed his battered ego that she could still think he was up to no good even with that micro leash in his head.
"Was at Willy's, but there was a demon there I weren't all that anxious to see, so 'ere I am," he lied smoothly. No way was he going to tell her the sad, pathetic truth about his night. "No plans tonight 'en, Red?"
"Not really, it's Christmas."
"Not seein' the Slayer?" Spike wanted a heads up if she was going to turn up.
"She'll probably do a sweep at some point tonight but she didn't ask me to go with her, so no, I won't be seeing Buffy." Willow could understand that Buffy would want to do her sweep and get home to her mother as quickly as possible. She might not celebrate Christmas but she understood the need to be with family on a special occasion. It still stung a little that Buffy hadn't invited her to patrol knowing she would be on her own all day.
"So, you're just gonna sit 'ere an' read?"
"That's right. Why?"
Spike rolled his eyes and sank back into the sofa. "You really know how to rip it up, don't you, witch?"
Her lips pursed, a small pucker forming between her eyes. "It's Christmas, I'm Jewish and I'm on my own. There's not much to do."
"Guess not." Spike offered no suggestions, she wouldn't want to go anywhere with him even if he was so inclined to invite her and he was happy enough at the moment to stay where he was in the warm with a bit of company.
"I'm not really a going out type of person," she admitted her eyes drifting to her book. "I like to stay in."
"And read?"
"I like to read."
He chuckled at her defensive tone. "Was just askin', no need to get bent outta shape, pet."
Willow let out a sigh. "Sorry. It's just hard sometimes, being on my own all the time. It's the holidays, it's a time to be with family whether you celebrate Christmas or not. Sometimes I think I'd be better off going away for the holiday's like Cordelia used to. Just you know, get out of Sunnydale for a few days for a bit of peace and quiet."
"So why don't you?"
Willow took a sip of juice and frowned down into the glass. "I can't really leave Buffy to handle things on her own."
"Why not? She's the Slayer, its her job. This ain't your fight, pet. Seems to me you should do whatever you bloody well like."
"Buffy might be the Slayer but she's also my friend and friends stick together. Although," she smiled, "I would like to spend a winter somewhere there's actual snow. I'd like, just for once, to have a real wintery winter."
"Nothin' like it, pet," Spike said, taking another handful of popcorn.
"You've probably seen some lovely winters, haven't you, Spike?"
Spike was surprised when she leant towards him a little, genuine interest in her eyes. It had been a long time since anyone was actually interested in something he had to say or a story he might tell. The Slayer and the Watcher only ever wanted him to identify a demon and tell them how to kill it. Beyond that they weren't much interested in him.
She had always been different though. The witch had always shown him sympathy and understanding. It was a possibility, Spike realised, that another reason he had come to the witch tonight was that he had somehow managed to work his way into a little crush. Just typical of him that was, feeling something, no matter how small and remote, towards a girl who wouldn't look at him twice.
History just loved to repeat itself.
"Yeah," he said at last. "Seen a fair few in my time. Been snowed in a time or two an' seen so many versions of A Christmas Carol I could do a soddin' one man play of it."
She laughed, her eyes glinting in amusement at the thought. "I suppose you've seen a lot of everything, huh?"
"Suppose." He eyed her thoughtfully for a moment. "Know the perfect place for you an' all. Know just where you could go to get away from it all."
"You do? Where? Tell me, Spike, I'd like to know about it even if I never get to experience it first-hand."
"No reason why you shouldn't experience it first –hand, pet." He had the sudden wild urge to experience her first hand, although it wasn't really all that sudden; he'd tried once before and discovered he'd been chipped. Maybe he'd have another chance tonight if he played it right.
A rueful look crossed her face. "I doubt I'll get the chance, what with the Hellmouth and everything. There's always something happening in Sunnydale. Tell me about it anyway," she begged. "I'd like to know."
"Alright," he settled more comfortably against the cushions, twisting towards her and stretching his arm along the back of the sofa. "There's this little cabin I know of up in the mountains of Switzerland. Nothin' else about for miles, just trees an' snow an' endless sky."
Spike paused a moment to consider the best way forward. He had a way with cruel, cutting words, but the beauty of poetry had always eluded him no matter how much time he dedicated to the art of writing prose.
"You wanna see that sky, pet; not a cloud to be seen, all blue it is; azure even, blue doesn't quite cover it. The sun isn't strong, but it's bright, and when it slants down through the snow covered branches the ground sparkles."
She gave a little sigh a dreamy look crossing her face as he painted the picture for her.
"You want snow, my cabin's the place to be. It comes up to your ankles and sometimes it's even deeper. Covers everythin' it does like a giant blanket all fresh and clean, an' it crunches sometimes when you walk in it and crush the thin layer of top frost. The cabin's in a little valley with the mountains rising up behind it all capped in snow and if you look real close you can see the river winding down the mountainside." His fingers touched to her ankle, tracing the curve of it up to her knee. "It runs down past the cabin. You can't see it from the window, there's a bit of a slope hiding it, but it's so quiet up there you can stand in the doorway an' listen to it."
"It sounds perfect, Spike." Her eyes drifted down to his hand, slightly cooler than her own skin, but she said nothing about it.
"Told you it was," he reminded her. "Sunnydale's pretty warm all year round. It's cold in the winter in Switzerland, not sure you'd like that." Shifting a little more onto his side Spike placed his hand palm down on her leg. "You're pretty warm yourself, pet."
Her brow puckered, confusion creeping into her face as she watched him warily; but she still didn't pull away from him.
"The night's even better, think you'll like the night best of all, 'cos the snow turns pink when the sun starts to set. The sky turns indigo blue an' the moon comes out an' it looks so close, like you can reach out an' touch it." His hand made soothing circles on her leg.
"Gleams it does, almost incandescent, pickin' out the frost in the snow, an' it's like the world is upside down, like the stars 'ave fallen."
"Why would you ever leave a place like that, Spike?" Willow noticed her voice wasn't quite steady, but that wasn't her fault, not when Spike was stroking her leg with slow, gentle fingers. Just why she allowed it to continue Willow couldn't say and decided not to examine the matter too closely.
Admitting he had been there with Dru, that he left when Dru was ready to move on wasn't going to do him any favours, so Spike kept quiet.
"I wonder that myself sometimes. It's one of my favourite places, so quiet an' peaceful it is. I'll take you there," he offered generously. "You can see it all for yourself. We'll stand in the snow an' watch it sparkle, an' when it gets too cold for you we'll go inside an' shut the door on the night."
She said nothing to dispel the fantasy; Willow felt she might as well indulge in it seeming as that was all it would ever be.
"Then what?" Her eyes met Spike's, they radiated heat and something she felt sure she was misreading, but then his hand was still on her leg.
Spike's lips twitched into a smirk. "Then the funs starts, pet. All kinds of fun to be had in a cabin in the snow, you'll see." He allowed his hand to slide further up her leg, slipping beneath that ridiculous Tweety-Pie t-shirt until his fingers were splayed out over her thigh.
"We'll shut the lights off but leave the curtains open, let the moonlight in, hum? Moonlight has a certain ambiance that suits the mountains. You'll like it."
"Yes," she agreed quietly. Willow wasn't quite sure what was going on, the evening had taken a distinct turn towards the incredible.
Spike shifted closer to her, his arm moved along the back of the sofa as his hand moved higher, riding the curve of her hip. "We'll set the fire, gotta 'ave a fire, right pet?"
She nodded, feeling her breath catch in her throat.
He leant in even further, until he was hovering over her and his nose touched her temple. She let out a shuddering breath which ghosted across his cheek. His lips brushed against her ear and when he spoke his voice was a deep, rumble which seemed to vibrate through Willow's body.
"I'll undress you; slowly. Savour every inch of you. There's a fur rug just in front of the fire an' that's where we'll stay. The fire'll keep you warm, make your skin glow it will an' the rug'll be soft on your back. I'll kiss you, kiss all of you, so much of you to taste there is, love."
Her fingers fanned out against his neck, her thumb moving along his jaw, her breathing uneven.
Spike's hand trailed over her hip to dip between her legs, his knuckles rubbing against her through her knickers. "I'll touch you too an' you'll open up for me."
She did that just, Willow couldn't help herself. She spread her legs invitingly, her other hand coming to rest on his shoulder, bunching the leather of his duster in her fingers.
"Good girl," he murmured approvingly, his fingers slipping beneath the thin cotton. "So warm an' wet you are, love."
Willow shuddered, a soft gasp leaving her lips. She wasn't quite sure how she had ended up in this situation but she couldn't find it in her to be sorry about it. If she tilted her head just so she could kiss him, just the corner of his mouth, but it was something.
Spike's eyes closed when her lips touched him, turning his head to kiss her more deeply. Again she opened up to him, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck as she kissed him back, her tongue caressing his, her body arching up against him.
She broke the kiss to breathe and Spike's eyes caught hers; holding her captive. "Once I've had my taste of you I'll slide inside you, fill you up." His fingers echoed his words and Willow moaned, her hips lifting into his hand.
"Beautiful you'll look in the firelight and the moonlight." His thumb pressed down on the hard bundle of nerves at the apex of her sex and Willow moaned again, her hands clutching at his head, bringing him back in for a kiss that was hot and toe curling.
His tongue stroked along her bottom lip, drawing it into his mouth to suck on. "The cracklin' fire an' us; they'll be the only sounds for miles."
Willow whimpered, his thumb was circling her clit in a slow, almost hypnotic movement which was driving her crazy. She wanted more. She needed more.
His fingers withdrew slowly and then sank back into her, penetrating to their fullest length, twisting to touch that spot inside her that made her ache just as his thumb pressed down on her clit again. "When you'll come you'll…."
"Spike!" She was holding his face in her hands and her nails scraped his cheek, her eyes wide with pleasure as her inner muscles went into spasm, clutching at his fingers.
"Yeah," he said with a smile. "You'll say my name."
She was panting, still holding his face tightly, her breath whispering against his chin and neck. She had an almost drugged look in her eyes and Spike felt a surge of masculine pride sweep through him that he was the cause of it.
If it would really be like that, if it would be like this, Willow wanted to be in that cabin in the mountains with the fire and the fur rug; where it was only her and Spike on top of the world.
Spike dropped his mouth back to hers, their tongues touching and tangling. As he sank deeper into the kiss Spike figured his life wasn't looking too shabby anymore; true it wasn't exactly George Bailey's wonderful life right now, but things were definitely looking up.