Title: Snack Time
Author: rugrat0ne
Email: rugrat0ne(at)hotmail(dot)com
Rating: T for safety
Feedback: Much appreciated
Distribution: Want, Take, Have, just tell me where it's going. It gives me a happy.
Disclaimer: The characters and settings belong to Joss and Co., the plot is mine. I borrowed a line from "Lover's Walk" and one from "School Hard"
Setting: Summer between seasons 4 and 5
Notes: I wrote this story as a sort of prequel to 'Better Than Weetabix'. I wondered how Spike and Willow had developed such a friendship. You don't have to read the other story to get this one, though. In this world, Willow and Tara are just friends.
Snack Time
"Would you like to come in?" The voice was tentative, as if sure of rejection.
Spike turned to look at the red-haired witch, who was nervously biting her lip and shifting from foot to foot.
"Did you just invite me in, pet?" he asked incredulously.
They had just finished a patrol together and were standing outside of Red's parents' house, where the young witch was apparently staying for the summer. Spike stared at the girl curiously, wondering if he should repeat the question.
"Just for a little bit. Maybe for a snack?" she said finally.
Spike chuckled and vamped out. He strode closer to the girl, who backed up into her front gate with a squeak.
"Are you offering a vampire a snack?" he breathed, enjoying her fear, "That's not very wise, love."
Her eyes went wide for a moment, and then she got a hold of herself.
"Stop that, Spike!" she admonished, slapping him on the chest, "I know you can't bite me, so knock it off!"
Spike chuckled again as he reverted to his human face.
"Had you going there for a moment, though," he observed cheerfully.
"When I said 'snack', I meant like doughnuts, or something," Willow informed him.
"Doughnuts?"
"Or something. I'm afraid I don't have any pig's blood."
"Jelly doughnuts?" Spike said hopefully.
"Chocolate-covered devil's food, actually," Willow said with a touch of worry.
Would she actually be disappointed if I turned her down? Spike wondered, surprised.
"Even better," he assured her with a grin.
As he followed the redhead into the house, he realized that he was actually starting to like this new assignment.
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Spike had finally come to an agreement with the Slayer after the Adam debacle. Regular help patrolling, to 'keep him out of trouble', in exchange for regular amounts of blood and/or cash. On this, their first night of the new plan, Buffy had assigned him to patrol with Riley and herself, and had placed the rest of the Scoobies together in a group.
"Is that really the best use of our resources?" Red had piped up.
"Is what the best use of resources?" Buffy had asked, confused.
"Grouping all the superpowers in one place," Willow had explained, "You've got one really strong group and one really weak group. You could have three medium-strength groups instead."
"Tactically, it is the sounder plan," Riley had confirmed reluctantly.
"I so don't want bleach boy alone with one of you guys," Buffy had commented, "I trust him about as far as…Giles could throw him."
"Hey!" the Watcher had protested faintly, looking up from his book.
"I'll go with him," Red had volunteered, "I'm sure he knows you'll stake him if anything happens to me."
So he had been stuck with the witch, Buffy had taken Xander, and Riley had been left with Anya.
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Spike brought himself back to the present as he followed Willow into the kitchen. He looked around him with interest, wondering if he could learn anything to his advantage in the witch's childhood home.
"Your parents aren't going to mind this late-night invasion, are they?" he asked. He didn't care if he ruffled feathers, usually, but he didn't want to deal with a screeching mum right at the moment.
"Out of town," Willow said with assurance. She went over to a heavily-marked calendar on the wall. "Dad is…in Chicago, guest lecture. Mom has a seminar in Santa Fe."
She went to get the doughnuts, while Spike examined the calendar more closely. It was color-coded. Red for Ira, blue for Sheila, and green for when they took trips together. It didn't escape Spike's attention that there was no color for Willow anywhere on the calendar. He flipped through several pages just to check.
"Are your parents ever home?" he asked incredulously.
"Sometimes. They were home a lot when I was little, but since I became a teen, they've been gone more. They're really popular on the lecture circuit," she explained, with matter-of-factness, and even a hint of pride.
Spike just shook his head. "Sounds lonely, pet. What if there were an emergency?" he asked, curious in spite of himself.
"Oh, they always leave a contact number. Plus, I've got Buffy, or Giles, depending on the emergency."
"If I'd known that, I would have visited you more back in high school," Spike said with an evil leer.
Willow smacked him on the arm and handed him a doughnut. "You wouldn't have gotten an invite then," she informed him.
Spike greedily took a bite, then said with his mouth full, "Do you have any milk?"
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The next night found them back outside Willow's door once more.
"More doughnuts, love?" Spike inquired. He'd rather enjoyed their little snack.
"I think we ate them all," Red said with a frown, then a thought occurred to her, "We have hot chocolate."
"Hot chocolate?" he wondered, thinking that it was a little hot out for it.
"You like hot chocolate, right? Buffy's mom said so," Willow informed him.
He winced a bit inside, not really wanting to remember that night. He did find it rather charming, though, how eager the witch was to please him.
"Alright, hot chocolate it is," he gamely agreed.
They went inside and Willow stopped by the phone.
"I should call Buffy, right?" she said.
The phone call was a new requirement, instituted late last night, when Spike went to collect his payment from Giles. Neither Watcher nor Slayer would believe that Willow was home safe, or that he'd helped at all, until he'd woken Red up with a phone call to confirm it. So now the little witch had to report in every night.
"Wait until after our snack. That way, she won't wonder what's taking me so long to get there for my blood," Spike pointed out.
Willow put the phone back down and went to make the hot chocolate, instead. Spike sat and watched.
"Do you have any of those little marshmallows?" he wondered.
"You've got a real sweet tooth, don't you?" Red demanded.
"Who, me?" he said in mock innocence.
"Or should I say, a sweet fang?" she giggled.
Spike smiled at that, feeling a bit indulgent towards the redhead, since she actually bothered to treat him like a person. It was a nice feeling.
"I like all sorts of snacks," he admitted, "Sweet stuff, salty stuffy, deep-fried stuff, you name it."
The microwave dinged, and Willow fetched their mugs. Spike took his thoughtfully, his mind still on snacks.
"Ever had fried okra?" he inquired.
Willow shook her head.
"I'm not usually much for vegetables," Spike conceded, "But there is a place in New Orleans that makes the best fried okra you've ever tasted. Ever been to New Orleans, pet?"
"No," Willow replied enviously, "I haven't been much of anywhere."
"Your parents never take you with them?" Spike asked, unsurprised.
"Not since I was little, and even then, all I saw was a hotel room," she admitted.
Spike shook his head. No wonder she was so attached to the Scoobies. They were probably all the family she had.
"Where else have you been?" Red wondered, looking at him curiously.
"Where do you want to hear about?" he countered, humoring her. "I've been almost everywhere, I think."
"China?" she ventured, "Have you seen the Great Wall?"
"Not the Great Wall, pet, but I have been to China." His eyes glowed with the memory; it was still one of his favorite stories. "There was this one time, during the Boxer Rebellion…"
The phone rang, interrupting his story. Willow quickly answered it.
"Hello?…Hey, Buffy!…We just got home…Four vamps, one newly risen…Oh, just some bruises, nothing major…Yeah, he's on his way…Okay, bye!"
Spike quickly got up and drained his hot chocolate.
"Wait, don't leave yet," Willow protested, "You didn't finish your story."
"No time, kitten, I've got to get to the Watcher's or they'll wonder," he said.
"You could use vampire speed, then you wouldn't have to worry," she coaxed, "I want to hear the ending."
"You barely heard the beginning," he noted, then explained, "Vamp speed only works well over short distances, and it tires you out quite a bit, the more you use it. It's why most vampires don't use it much at all."
"Kind of like a cheetah, huh? I'd wondered about that," she mused.
"Well, don't go spreading it around to the Slayer. We like to keep our secrets," he cautioned, wondering why he had confided so much to the witch.
"I promise," she pledged, "You don't remind me of a cheetah, though. You're more like a panther."
"A panther, am I?" he said with an arched eyebrow.
"Yeah, all sleek and deadly graceful. That's what I think of, anyway," she confessed, looking slightly embarrassed.
Spike swelled from the compliment. She still thought of him as dangerous! He sat back down on his chair.
"Okay, so there was this one time, during the Boxer Rebellion…"
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A week went by, and they settled into a pattern. First patrolling, then back to Willow's for a snack and some stories. Spike would tell Willow all about the places he'd been and the people he'd killed, and she would tell him about the adventures of the Scoobies. Willow even began stocking pig's blood in her fridge for Spike to snack on.
One night they came to the house to find the lights already on.
"I'm sorry, Spike. I forgot to tell you. My parents are home," Red said apologetically.
"I take it you don't want to introduce us?" Spike teased.
"They're oblivious, but not that oblivious. You would not go over well as a friend of mine," she explained.
"Oh, we're friends now, are we?" he asked with a raised brow.
"Aren't we?" she asked, a little hurt.
"Of course, we are," he admitted, giving her arm a quick squeeze, "I guess I just never expected to hear you say it."
"Well, we are. Even if we still have to hide it from Buffy."
"The Slayer would definitely not approve," Spike agreed, "So how long are your folks in town for?"
"Three days, I think. I'm sorry, Spike. We'll have to postpone snack time for a while," she apologized.
"I think I'll live," he chuckled, and they said their goodbyes as Willow made her way to the front door.
But after he'd collected his blood from the Watcher's, he paced around his crypt feeling strangely restless. It was as if he needed his conversation time with Willow, or else he couldn't settle. Finally, he made up his mind.
He jumped the fence into Willow's backyard, and made his way to the patio doors that led to her room. Red was inside, her figure crisply silhouetted on the gauzy curtains. Spike watched admiringly as the shadows showed her taking off her clothing and putting on a nightshirt. Not bad, he mused to himself.
Certain that she was dressed now, Spike knocked lightly on the doorframe. Willow quickly opened the door to him.
"Spike!" she whispered, "What are you doing here?"
"I missed you," he softly confessed, "Figured maybe we could hang out, if your folks are asleep."
"We can watch a little T.V., but we have to be quiet," she cautioned, opening the door wider so that he could come in.
The small T.V. was perched on her desk, to the side of the bed. They had to lay on their sides, almost spooning, in order to watch it. Spike didn't care; it left him with an unobstructed view of Willow.
Recently, he'd had to admit that his feelings for the girl were more based on attraction than friendship. He moved a little closer on the bed. He could smell the scent of her shampoo, flowery and inviting. He resisted the urge to put an arm around her waist and pull her close. Willow would probably never forgive him if he tried it.
He had no illusions about the young Scooby's feelings for him. To her, he was just a friend, a source of interesting stories. He'd never fit into her life. But it was enough just to lay there next to her and dream. Maybe someday…
The End…or is it?