Willow opened her eyes as soon as she hit the ground so she could watch the sky zoom. Instead, she saw a mass of hands coming out of dark robes to grab at her. Panic immediately gripped her; screaming, she tried to roll away from them. Two pairs of hands had grabbed her before she heard the growling. She jerked her head in the direction of it and in the first second she saw the vampiric ridges, her heart stopped. Then she recognized the hair and the face and her heart jumped for joy. She'd never been so glad to see Spike. He was pushing the other two robed guys away from her. Only, they must have been human, because he wasn't pushing them very hard.
The two who had Willow's arms settled for trying to get her away from her would-be champion rather than tying her up with the rope she saw in their hands. She'd be damned if she was going anywhere with them. She closed her eyes and tried to calm down. She needed to focus, but that was nearly impossible under the circumstances. Her captors mistook her stilled movement for acquiesence and began binding her arms.
Human bloody beings, Spike was cursing to himself. This would have been over in a heartbeat if he could just take a good swing at them. Then he heard it. Concise, but clear. "Spike, get down." Willow's voice. Calm, but serious. He whipped his head in the direction of the witch. She'd appeared to go limp in the arms of her captors. She raised her head and their eyes met. He dropped abruptly to the ground, and felt a surge of energy go over him. The two robed figures he'd been fending off cried out in pain and fell back.
"Atta girl, Red," Spike thought as he got up. The rain was still coming down, but the menacing glare he gave the men holding Willow was not lost on them.
The men in robes tightened their hold on Willow's arms. "Jacob," one of the men hissed. "She did that. And that one - he's a vampire. Let him have her."
Jacob shook his head. When he spoke, he kept his eyes on Spike's slowly approaching form. "You'll pay for what you did to our brothers, witch," he said lowly, pulling his dagger from his robe.
Willow closed her eyes and held her breath. The only light illuminating the clearing came from the moon. Willow slowly let out the breath she was holding, and as she did, the moonlight faded. Then, it was just the sound of the rain in an inky darkness.
Spike? This time, her voice in his head was less clear, less strong. I'm drained. That's about all I can do. Spike didn't know if she'd be able to hear him, but he spoke to her in his mind anyway. "That's alright, love. You did good. I can still see."
"Jacob?" came a tremulous voice. "Where is the vampire?"
Jacob, who saw no reason to dally with the witch's punishment, had raised his hand with the dagger, ready to plunge it in to her, as soon as he could be sure it was her he was aiming at and not his fellow comrade. "Be quiet, Samuel" he ordered impatiently. "And step away from the girl." The younger man complied.
"Now," Jacob said into Willow's ear. "Where's your demon friend?" He pulled his hand up, ready to swing the blade into her.
"He's right here, mate," a voice said and caught Jacob's wrist. "And he's tired of your lip." He wrenched the dagger out of the man's hand and let it fall to the ground. Willow stood rigidly still, listening to what she could not see. She was so tired, and her magicks were failing. The moonlight was returning and the rain was letting up. Her head was hung in mental and physical exhaustion, but she could still ascertain what was going on. The one called Samuel was crouched down about five feet to her left. Jacob had a strong grip on the back of her neck, but his other arm was twisted and being held behind his back by Spike.
"Let her go," Spike said. "Or I rip this arm off." Jacob lifted his chin in defiance. Spike growled.
Willow felt Jacob release her neck and she stumbled forward.
"You," Spike addressed Samuel. "Untie her." The young man scrambled over to do as he was told. He'd known they shouldn't mess with a witch, and that was before he knew she had a vampire with her.
When Willow was no longer bound, she looked at Samuel for a moment. He shifted his weight uncomfortably. She waited until his guilty eyes met hers and then she slapped him. Then she went back to where her circle, now long washed away, had been and retrieved her shirt. She struggled into the soaking garment as she came back to Spike and Jacob.
"What do we do with this one?" Spike asked and heaved Jacob up by his robe. Willow looked thoughtful for a moment.
All she said was "Samuel. Rope. Now."
With little effort, they bound him to the tree. Despite Spike's disapproval, Willow had allowed Samuel to run off into the night. But while their focus was elsewhere, neither Willow nor Spike noticed as one of Jacob's men got up from where Willow's magic had knocked him down. He made his way to the group of trees where they had been hiding originally, because among the ritual preparations, there was also a crossbow there.
"You're both vile creatures," Jacob spat out. Spike smirked at him. He looked at Willow. "You want to get his dagger, cut him up a bit?"
Willow smiled rather evilly, and Spike was impressed. Apparently, she didn't take being nearly killed too kindly. She retrieved Jacob's dagger and approached the man. What was she going to do? Spike wondered. If he still had a heartbeat, he imagined it might be speeding up right now.
"See?" Willow said sweetly. "You've made me cranky." She held the dagger at Jacob's throat and twirled the tip.
An unexplained chill ran down Spike's spine. He knew the girl was smart. He knew she'd become quite a powerful witch. And he knew she had a big heart. A heart, so it seemed, big enough to house a room of darkness. He had a vampire's ability to see the potential for real darkness that this girl posessed. And until now, he couldn't remember ever even glimpsing it. The thought chilled him.
Willow was looking into Jacob's face. He would have killed her tonight and yet now the tables were turned and he was at her mercy.
"You wouldn't," Jacob said. But his voice betrayed him, for he had seen in her face what Spike had heard in her voice. She wanted to hurt him. And there was nothing in her confident manner that said she wasn't going to.
The rain was but a drizzle now, and did nothing to mask the sounds of movement of the man behind the trees. Nevertheless, he retrieved and loaded the bow without drawing attention from the witch or the vampire. But it was a painstakingly slow process.
Willow decided she'd unnerved the man enough. She took his dagger and cut a portion of his robe off. Then, she forced it into his mouth. "I am not the vile creature here." The man's eyes darted to Spike. Willow looked at him, too. "Spike, on the other hand..." She turned back to Jacob. "Let's just say you're getting off real lucky, 'kay?"
Spike smiled almost imperceptibly. He and Willow both knew he couldn't lay a finger on this man if he meant any real harm by it. But here she was, talking about him as if he were still the big bad. Funny, it didn't seem patronizing. He was flattered. And his eye was suddenly caught by someone stepping out from behind a tree, crossbow in hand and aimed at... Willow.
She turned just in time to see the man with the crossbow aimed in her direction. Her mouth opened silently as he fired, but it was already happening. She heard the arrow whizzing toward her and flinched, but Spike had seen what was about to happen sooner. He jumped in front of her, facing her. He knew the arrow was going to hit him; he just hoped it wouldn't be in the heart.
On contact, Willow screamed. Spike roared. And a bolt of lightning hit the clearing, shaking the ground, splitting the night sky with intense light and mind blowing sound. The man dropped the crossbow and fled the scene. Jacob gaped. The rain was falling again and the very air seemed charged, whether it be from the lighting or the witch.
Willow lacked the clarity of mind to wonder about the attacker with crossbow and whether he'd take another shot. All she was thinking about was the pain in her left shoulder. Spike's hands were gripping her waist. The arrow had shot him in the back and come straight through his chest, pinning him to Willow. His eyes were clamped shut. He opened them and looked at Willow.
Her green eyes were wide in terror. What with the rain, it was hard to tell she was crying. She was taking little breaths. The arrow wasn't too deep, two inches at the most, but it hurt like hell. She started shaking. She grabbed onto Spike's arms. She didn't want to think about what was coming up. "Willow," he said calmly. "You'll have to..." Her eyes shot to his and he shut up. He looked at her steadily. "One... tw-"
"Aaagh!" She pushed back from him on two and stumbled away, hand pressed to the wound. "Ow ow ow ow..."
"Three," Spike said anti-climactically. He closed his hand around the shaft of the arrow and closed his eyes. He let loose with a string of curses as he pulled it from his chest.
Willow had fallen to the ground. She was crying in earnest, now. Sobbing would be more accurate. This was too hard. How had Buffy done this? Villains trying to kill her. Like every night. And now she was bleeding. And there was mud all over her jeans.
Spike went to her. He took her by the shoulders and pulled her to a standing position. She kept crying and moved automatically into his arms. She buried her face in the side of his chest that wasn't bleeding and twisted her fist in his shirt with the hand that wasn't pressed to her open wound. And he just held her. There were times when Spike didn't know how to treat humans if he wasn't killing them. There were times that he didn't know how to act around the Scoobies. This was neither of those times. He held her. Tight.
When the heaving sobs subsided, he loosened his grip and began rubbing her back. She relaxed away from him and let out a shaky breath. "If you hadn't been..." she didn't finish.
"Hey," he said. "No, look at me. You did good." She looked away. "You did, Red. Very impressive. Would I lie?" She half-smiled. "Impressed me. She'd be proud, she would."
"You don't have to say that," Willow said quietly. "But thank you. And for, y'know, saving my life a couple of times tonight."
"Pfft. Nothing to it. Hey, I ought to thank you for the excitement. A little violence, a little skin..."
Her eyes widened and even in the rain and her disheveled state, he knew she was blushing. "Spike!"
He could have let go of her then. He didn't. "You made it rain," he said.
She nodded and looked away. Embarrassed? Ashamed? "So did you," she mumbled.
Then, standing there, in the supernatural rain, both of them bleeding, Spike had a moment where he thought he knew what he was doing. He leaned down and kissed the girl he was holding in his arms.
For a moment, it just seemed natural. He was the hero, and she was the heroine, and together they had vanquished the foe. But in the next moment, she was Willow and he was Spike and she had pulled herself out of his arms and clamped her hand over her mouth. She looked at him with her wide green eyes for all of a second before she turned and fled from the clearing without a word.
Spike cursed. What had he done that for? Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Jacob had watched the whole thing and was now looking at him smugly. Or, as smugly as one can while still bound and gagged. Spike turned his back on him. His eyes were drawn to a pair of orange sneakers gathering rain. Damn it. He couldn't very well let her stumble all the way home in this weather barefoot. He picked them up and took off after her.
