Disclaimer: I don't own the characters and situations described in "Buffy, the vampire slayer". I am not making any money out of this.
Comment: This is set after the events in "The Gift" and "The Bond", my particular take on season four, also posted on ff.net. Willow and Spike have fought the Initiative together, against the initial opposition of the Scoobies, and now share a physical, mental, and emotional bond. But how long will it last? Can Willow and Spike confront he changes that have come upon them? Can love survive betrayal? And is forgiveness still possible?
Review: Yes, please!!!
Interlude (working title)
by
Miranda
She was beautiful. Lying there naked, she looked peaceful as an innocent child, yet one could sense the strength in her, the sheer power of the muscles bundled under her smooth, golden skin, her keen, designing mind.
Spike sat on the bed beside the sleeping Buffy and waited. Willow would come soon. She didn't want to, she didn't want to see it; he could sense her still fighting the inevitable, but he knew that she knew, he could feel darkness rising in her. She would come to him in the end. That was the blessing and the curse of the bond.
Had he enjoyed it? Of course he had. Buffy was an expert lover, and she had given herself to him with all the rage and fury with which she used to fight him. But now Spike wasn't sure he remembered why he had done it anymore. It hadn't been for the pleasure, for, as much as he didn't like to admit it, he did feel pleasure when he was with Willow. As clumsy as her touch would seem, it was truthful. She didn't want anything from him, and she didn't hide anything. It had been so long since he had known honesty that it made him shiver inside, with a joy so sharp it sometimes came closer to pain - or fear.
Maybe he had simply done it because the Slayer had offered herself to him. Her motives were clear: make Willow see her mistake would be the declared and conscious motive; assert herself in triumph, make sure she was still the only one to decide what others would think and feel, and how they would live, would be the hidden one - unknown, Spike believed, even to Buffy herself. She sincerely thought she was helping her friend, even sacrificing herself for her sake.
But what were his own motives? Had it been a moment of lust? Or had he always cherished a secret attraction for the Slayer? Was he fighting the feelings he didn't want to have for Willow? Was he trying to prove that he was still himself? Was he just being what he was - a vile, treacherous vampire?
Or was he running away?
In that moment, the door opened, and Willow's black silhouette stood out against the myriads of stars sparkling in the clear autumn night.
"Buffy, wake up. Willow is here."
-------------------
From the other side of the threshold, Willow saw Buffy start up, look around in confusion, then fix her eyes on her, and freeze in sudden recognition and shock. Seeing them both side by side, naked and bathed in moonlight, Buffy and her William, Willow was struck by how beautiful they were. They matched each other perfectly: strong-willed, lean, ruthless. Spike's expression was stony.
"Willow - I...- I...- I didn't mean to..."
"You didn't mean to, Buffy? What did you mean then?"
"I...- I.... It's not what you think!"
"What am I thinking?"
Buffy tried to speak, but her mind was a grey, sticky mess. She knew where she was and what she had done, but although she knew she had had a good reason, she couldn't remember it now. She remembered being in her room, waiting for Riley to come and pick her up to go to the movies. When he had arrived, she had been irritable, outright nasty. Riley tried to talk, ask her what was the matter, but Buffy ended up sending him away. She wasn't sure if she had broken up with him. Maybe she had.
Why would she do such a thing? She loved Riley, didn't she? Sure she did. He was the kind of guy she had been looking for all her life. And why had she gone to Spike's place, when she knew that Willow would be in a drama-club meeting until late in the evening?
Then things had gone very fast. It was almost as if Spike had been waiting for her impatiently. When she stepped into the crypt, he was already taking off his shirt. They had not spoken a single word. Before she knew it, they were lying on the bed. But Buffy had never been able to lie to herself: he hadn't forced her to do anything she didn't want to. She had enjoyed it in a savage, hurtful way.
And now Willow was standing before her, and Buffy knew there must be something she could say to her, something that would explain it all, make it all better...
"Go."
"Look, Willow... I- I know what you must be thinking but this is... really, this isn't... we... we have to talk about this..."
"Go, William."
----------------
A sudden flash of anger hit Buffy as she realised that Willow was not talking to her, was barely acknowledging that she was in the room at all. She had a curious sensation of disappearing. Never before had she been in the same room with other people and felt her presence was not necessary.
This wasn't what Spike had expected either. He had expected flashing eyes, fiery whispered words. His head on the floor. A stake in his heart, maybe.
If there was one thing a being like him couldn't possibly expect, it was grace.
Comment: This is set after the events in "The Gift" and "The Bond", my particular take on season four, also posted on ff.net. Willow and Spike have fought the Initiative together, against the initial opposition of the Scoobies, and now share a physical, mental, and emotional bond. But how long will it last? Can Willow and Spike confront he changes that have come upon them? Can love survive betrayal? And is forgiveness still possible?
Review: Yes, please!!!
Interlude (working title)
by
Miranda
She was beautiful. Lying there naked, she looked peaceful as an innocent child, yet one could sense the strength in her, the sheer power of the muscles bundled under her smooth, golden skin, her keen, designing mind.
Spike sat on the bed beside the sleeping Buffy and waited. Willow would come soon. She didn't want to, she didn't want to see it; he could sense her still fighting the inevitable, but he knew that she knew, he could feel darkness rising in her. She would come to him in the end. That was the blessing and the curse of the bond.
Had he enjoyed it? Of course he had. Buffy was an expert lover, and she had given herself to him with all the rage and fury with which she used to fight him. But now Spike wasn't sure he remembered why he had done it anymore. It hadn't been for the pleasure, for, as much as he didn't like to admit it, he did feel pleasure when he was with Willow. As clumsy as her touch would seem, it was truthful. She didn't want anything from him, and she didn't hide anything. It had been so long since he had known honesty that it made him shiver inside, with a joy so sharp it sometimes came closer to pain - or fear.
Maybe he had simply done it because the Slayer had offered herself to him. Her motives were clear: make Willow see her mistake would be the declared and conscious motive; assert herself in triumph, make sure she was still the only one to decide what others would think and feel, and how they would live, would be the hidden one - unknown, Spike believed, even to Buffy herself. She sincerely thought she was helping her friend, even sacrificing herself for her sake.
But what were his own motives? Had it been a moment of lust? Or had he always cherished a secret attraction for the Slayer? Was he fighting the feelings he didn't want to have for Willow? Was he trying to prove that he was still himself? Was he just being what he was - a vile, treacherous vampire?
Or was he running away?
In that moment, the door opened, and Willow's black silhouette stood out against the myriads of stars sparkling in the clear autumn night.
"Buffy, wake up. Willow is here."
-------------------
From the other side of the threshold, Willow saw Buffy start up, look around in confusion, then fix her eyes on her, and freeze in sudden recognition and shock. Seeing them both side by side, naked and bathed in moonlight, Buffy and her William, Willow was struck by how beautiful they were. They matched each other perfectly: strong-willed, lean, ruthless. Spike's expression was stony.
"Willow - I...- I...- I didn't mean to..."
"You didn't mean to, Buffy? What did you mean then?"
"I...- I.... It's not what you think!"
"What am I thinking?"
Buffy tried to speak, but her mind was a grey, sticky mess. She knew where she was and what she had done, but although she knew she had had a good reason, she couldn't remember it now. She remembered being in her room, waiting for Riley to come and pick her up to go to the movies. When he had arrived, she had been irritable, outright nasty. Riley tried to talk, ask her what was the matter, but Buffy ended up sending him away. She wasn't sure if she had broken up with him. Maybe she had.
Why would she do such a thing? She loved Riley, didn't she? Sure she did. He was the kind of guy she had been looking for all her life. And why had she gone to Spike's place, when she knew that Willow would be in a drama-club meeting until late in the evening?
Then things had gone very fast. It was almost as if Spike had been waiting for her impatiently. When she stepped into the crypt, he was already taking off his shirt. They had not spoken a single word. Before she knew it, they were lying on the bed. But Buffy had never been able to lie to herself: he hadn't forced her to do anything she didn't want to. She had enjoyed it in a savage, hurtful way.
And now Willow was standing before her, and Buffy knew there must be something she could say to her, something that would explain it all, make it all better...
"Go."
"Look, Willow... I- I know what you must be thinking but this is... really, this isn't... we... we have to talk about this..."
"Go, William."
----------------
A sudden flash of anger hit Buffy as she realised that Willow was not talking to her, was barely acknowledging that she was in the room at all. She had a curious sensation of disappearing. Never before had she been in the same room with other people and felt her presence was not necessary.
This wasn't what Spike had expected either. He had expected flashing eyes, fiery whispered words. His head on the floor. A stake in his heart, maybe.
If there was one thing a being like him couldn't possibly expect, it was grace.