The Real Thing

Author: Chelsea

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.

Rating: PG

Timeline: Right after "Intervention", Willow confronts Spike over his actions.

Warning: This hasn't been beta'd. I apologize in advance.

Feedback: Please

Spike heard the light knocking, so light he almost missed it. He frowned and pulled his tired and aching body off the couch and walked slowly to the door. He pulled it back slightly and to his astonishment found a flustered Willow standing outside.

"Um...Hi, can I come in?" The red head said a little uncomfortably.

Spike nodded his head wordlessly and stepped back, indicating that the witch should proceed before him. Willow hesitated for a mere second before stepping across the threshold. She walked into the middle of the room and stood there silently, wringing her hands in an agitated fashion.

"What are you doing here Red?" Spike asked.

"I...um...wanted to come and thank you for what you did for Dawn." Willow said softly, once again stuttering.

Spike tilted his head to one side and said humorlessly. "Buffy, the real Buffy, had already done that."

"Yeah, I know." She looked at him and winced when she saw how badly he was hurt. His face was adorned with numerous cuts and bruises. His eyes were almost completely shut. He hasn't changed out of his T-shirt and Willow could see the long, ugly gashes running along his arms and upper body. "Have you clean those out?"

"Don't nag Red. I'm a vampire. I heal fast." He turned away sharply and winced as the pain shot through him like a bolt of electricity.

"Not if you get an infection." Willow said and pushed him down on the couch. She reached inside her bag and pulled out a first aid kit. "I kinda thought you might need this."

"Look Willow…"

"Just be quiet for a minute and let me do this, please." Willow said a little unsteadily as she stared at the deep cuts. She took out some alcoholic pads and gently cleaned him up, stopping every so often when he flinched from the sting. Spike wanted to protest, but it was nice to have someone fussing over him for a change. No one had ever wanted to take care of him before. He stared at the top of her head and noticed how her hair shined and how her skin glowed under the artificial light. She looked up and he was staring at the biggest, brightest grayish green eyes he had ever seen. He swallowed and sat up straighter in the couch. He pushed her hands off him and muttered in a low growl. "That's enough Red. I don't need a mother."

"But..." Willow started to say but was cut off by Spike. "Look, all I need is some blood and I'll be fine. You want to volunteer?" He said sarcastically and stared meaningfully at that swan like neck of hers. He smirked when she looked at him in fright. "Didn't think so."

By now Willow was calling herself a million different kinds of fools for even coming here. Spike watched her shifted around ready to bolt and decided to take pity on her. "Look, if you want to help, why don't you go get me some blood out of the fridge. The nourishment will help me quicker than anything else."

Relieved to find something to do, Willow nodded eagerly and walked in the direction of the refrigerator. Spike watched her walked away silently and sighed, still trying to get over the shock of her being there. But Spikey, doesn't she brighten up the place? Admit it, you like having her here. Sod off!!

Willow returned a few minutes later with a cup of warm blood. She handed it to him and watched as the cup almost slipped out his hand. She reached out and steadied the cup, quickly letting go again when Spike stared at her with those fathomless eyes. Spike drank the warm liquid and handed her back the empty cup afterwards. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and saw her biting her nails. There is something else going on. "So apart from patching me up, is there any other reason for you being here?"

Willow set the cup down slowly, giving herself a few much-needed seconds to compose her speech. "Buffy told us what you have done and why." Willow stared at him and there was a glimmer of tears in her eyes. It never fails to amaze her how Spike idolizes his loves, from Dru to Buffy. Surprisingly she felt a strange sense of jealousy. No one had ever loved her like that before. While everyone else thought he was just weird, Willow understood his obsession with Drusilla. She knew Spike was the one responsible for the longevity of their relationship. And to think he has now transferred that kind of devotion to Buffy…Goddess Buffy, do you realize how lucky you are? She quickly came back to earth. What am I thinking? This is Spike, obsessive, compulsive, merciless, demon vampire, borderline psycho! If it weren't for that chip in his head, he'd be having you for snack right now. Willow, get a grip! She took a couple of deep breaths to bring herself back together. "I think we haven't always been fair to you. I mean when we heard about the robotic Buffy, we all jumped to conclusion and decided that you were a pervert."

"Wait, you guys thought what?" There was a note of anger in his voice.

"Um...well, you have to admit, it was kinda perverted."

"Willow, you came all the way out here in the middle of the night just so that you can call me a pervert?" Spike looked at her incredulously.

"No, of course not. I mean, I don't think that anymore. I know...that you genuinely care for Buffy. The robot thing...well, that's just your way I guess." Willow looked at him, willing herself not to blush. "When Buffy told us how you tried to protect Dawn because you loved Buffy too much to see her hurting again, well...I just had to come." Willow bit down on her lower lip. "I...um...have something for you."

Spike raised one eyebrow in silent inquiry.

Willow walked over to the front door and opened it. She stepped outside but came back in quickly dragging something behind her. Spike caught a glimpse of blonde hair and pink top and almost dropped off the couch. "Don't tell me...that's not what I think it is, is it?"

"I brought back your version of Buffy." Willow dropped the robot down on the couch and sighed in relief when the dead weight was off of her.

"Buffy told me it was destroyed." Spike looked at the motionless figure on the couch and then looked up at the witch.

"I told Buffy that I would destroy it, but I actually fixed it." Willow smiled, once again on familiar territory. "It was actually really easy. You see, it just short-circuited and I..."

Spike interrupted impatiently. "Leave the techno, just tell me why?"

"Because you love her." Willow said it so softly that Spike almost thought he imagined it.

"You brought her back against the slayer's wishes because you think I'm in love with her?" Spike ran a hand through his blonde locks, still having trouble believing what she has brought him. "Why?"

"Well, first of all, this is yours. I mean, you paid for it even though it's kind of creepy of you to have...um...sorry." Willow pushed a strand of hair behind one ear. "I just thought since you love her so much that maybe if you can't have the real thing, you should at least have the substitute. You are not really hurting anybody. I mean…Buffy probably isn't too happy about it, but she doesn't need to know about this. It's not really her, is it? It's just a combination of microchips and wires…what Buffy doesn't know isn't gonna hurt her, right?" Did I really sound as lame as I thought? Willow bit down on her lower lip waiting to see how Spike would react. Once again he surprised her. Instead of focusing his attention on the robot, he kept his gaze on her.

"You are unbelievable." Spike shook his head. "Look luv, I'm over the bot thing. It was just a…moment of weakness."

"Spike, it's okay. You don't have to explain it to me." I really don't need to hear you telling me why you are obsessed with Buffy. Not giving him a chance to continue, she flipped the robot over and tapped lightly on its back. "Just open up the panel right here and hit the switch. This is yours now. Just keep her out of sight. Buffy will probably kill me if she ever finds out what I've done. I…um gonna go. I'll see you later." She grabbed her bag and quickly walked out the door without a backward glance.

Spike stared at the closed door and then back at the blonde robot. He was thoughtful as he paced the room. Finally he stopped in front of the robot and opened up the panel where Willow had indicated earlier. But instead of hitting the switch to bring it alive, he reached inside and grabbed a handful of wires. He yanked on them hard and quickly letting go when he felt a shot of electricity ran through him as he watched the robot fizzled, made a few weird noises and then nothing.

He picked up his pack of cigarettes and lit one with an unsteady hand wondering why he just did what he did. Perhaps it was because he had satisfied his curiosity with the slayer. Perhaps because an imitation is never an adequate substitute for the real thing. But just what exactly is the real thing? An image of red hair and green eyes flashed across his head. He smiled, his mind once again going through all the possibilities. It's time to move on. It's time to move on to the real thing.