author: Lucinda
rating: pg 13
pairings: will become Spike/Willow, William/Tara
disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
distribution: Bite Me, WLS, WWW, Cat, Red SoulMates, yourmission, Feen, - anyone else please ask.
set in soon to be very AU season 5.
response to Fayth's Alterna Spike Challenge:
Spike had caught her before she could hit the ground, cradling Willow's limp body in his arms. The minions were gone, either killed, or fled, possibly from their mistress' wrath. William and Tara were close, reaching trembling hands towards Willow, eyes wide, as the scent of fear rolled from them. He touched her cheek, frowning as he watched the blood trickling from her nose, noticed the pallor of her skin.
"I have a handkerchief." William's voice was awkwardly self conscious, but he was trying to help Willow. He began to gingerly dab at the blood with the scrap of white linen.
Tara's fingers hovered over Willow's hair, not quite touching her friend. "She's not awake... that w-was too m-much magic, what if..."
"She's got a steady heartbeat, a bit slow, but strong and steady. Breathing's even too. Let's get over there, then we can make sure there's nothing else. And she'll need something when she wakes up." Carefully, Spike shifted his grip on Willow's limp form, lifting her from the ground. "Feel like I should be on the cover of a bloody romance novel."
"Nah... she's still fully dressed, and looks... not aware enough for a cover picture." Tara's voice almost managed amusement.
They made their way to the Rosenberg house much more swiftly, and Tara fumbled with her key ring, producing a key to Willow's house in her shaking fingers. Unlocking the door, she rushed inside, her pulse still rapid, still leaving the scent of fear behind her like perfume.
William followed Tara, looking troubled as he glanced towards Spike. "How will he be able to... Doesn't he need an invitation from Willow?"
He couldn't help it, he gave a slightly feral grin to the mortal that he'd been as he carried Willow across the thresh hold. "Already got one from Red. She brought me inside after... She invited me in. Bandaged me up, gave me a safe place to sleep. Now, she's the one needing a bit of rest."
Carefully, he laid her on the couch, slipping her shoes from her feet and tossing them into the corner. He brushed his fingers over her cheek, breathing in her scent, apples and something that wasn't quite cinnamon... She smelled wonderful. "Tara.. why isn't she waking up? You're the witch, explain this to me."
William had cautiously settled himself into a chair, his blue eyes still dancing with questions and worries and fear as he looked at Willow. "Shouldn't she have needed more time, more preparation to do that? Herbs, powders, a protective circle of some sort?"
Tara came back into the room, leaning against the chair that William was sitting in. "He's r-right, proper c-casting would use herbs or powders, a protective circle, and it would... take longer. Casting like that, all at once with just will and power... it's harder, more exhausting. It makes thing take more energy, that's why most witches don't do it. She's just... she's out of energy. So much out of energy that she's passed out. Trying too much can do that, if you go to far.
Something inside of him seemed to ease as he heard Tara's response, her stammering fading as she focused on Willow's safety instead of her fear. Willow would be alright. She would wake up, and everything would be just fine. "What did she do, anyhow?"
"She's been practicing a spell to teleport objects. But she's not very good at it, she can't control where the object goes, and sometimes, it does bad things to what the object was sitting on." Tara was frowning again, no longer reeking of fear. "But teleporting something that size... it's not a surprise that she's out cold afterwards. It would just... That took a lot of power."
Something connected in his mind, something that he could almost follow the shape of. "How much power? Could you do it? Could the Watcher?"
"No, I definitely couldn't. I don't think Giles could either. I think the two of us together could use a ritual to send something that size, but not... not just like that. That took a lot of power."
The shape was gaining definition. "So, do you think she could use her magic on Glory again?"
Tara frowned, her hands fluttering like pale birds. "Well, if she had the power once, she probably would have the power again, but... Glory would know if Willow tried to teleport her again, she could try to counter it."
"I don't think that's what he means." William's voice was low, caught between worry and amazement. "The sheer audacity of the idea is... well, the scope of the task is incredibly daunting. I think he means could Willow use that power draining spell against Glory while you and Giles entrap her."
"You win the prize, Exeter. We don't have a better plan." Spike's voice held a hint of growl as he remembered the evil woman, remembered the pain she'd inflicted. He tried to calm himself down, closing his eyes and focusing on Willow's heartbeat.
Tara gasped, the scent of fear returning. "Oh goddess... that's crazy. Your talking about Willow going up against a... against an evil goddess."
He looked up at her, certain that his eyes were amber. "We already are against her. Unless you fancy rolling over and playing carpet at her feet, we ARE against her right now. We don't want her to get this key, don't want her here, don't want her causing any more trouble. What we need is a way to make it work. Anyone got a better idea?" He paused, looking around, forcing his emotions back under control.
"glass of water... excedrin... ohhhh" Willow's voice was little more than a weak croaking, almost like one of the frogs that she was so unsettled by.
Spike helped her into a sitting position, slipping himself behind her so that she leaned back against him as William and Tara got the water and headache medicine. He wasn't quite certain why that took both of them. He brushed his fingers lightly over her hair, a faint smile on his lips.
"Shhh luv, it will be okay. We're safe for now, thanks to you."
end part 14.
Tara had found the medicine for Willow while he'd found a glass and filled it with water. William found himself wondering if the vampire's plan might work. If Willow would be capable of taking power away from that... from HER. She'd been terrifying. He was also a bit unsettled that he'd known what the vampire... what Spike's crazy plan was. While there was something to the explanation of they didn't have a choice but to oppose Glory or try to flee, that still didn't explain why he had made the same jump of not quite logic as the vampire.
Unless there had been something to the claim that he had once been William. But if Spike had once been William Exeter, he had changed a great deal, and far more than simply getting pointed teeth. He found himself thinking about those changes, about the claim that Spike had been William Exeter. It fascinated and frightened him all at once.
Tara went to another room to call Rupert Giles on the telephone and explain what had happened. This left Willow leaning against Spike, apparently asleep, Spike, and himself in the room. Maybe he could get a few answers to some of his questions...
"You said that you had been me, once upon a time." He looked at Spike, hoping that his questions wouldn't make the vampire angry. Tara had assured him that the vampire couldn't harm him, but her explanation hadn't reassured him very much. What was this chip thing anyhow? A chip of what?
Spike glanced at him, his eyes wary, unframed by spectacles. "Yeah. It was a long time ago."
Gathering his courage, William continued. "You seem... very different from me. How... was it becoming a vampire, or was it the passing of years?"
One hand resting over Willow in a gesture that looked unexpectedly protective, Spike gave a small nod. "Both. Time and experience, and some determined effort. It started with Cecily. I... you... there was a poem. She rejected it, rejected me. Said I was beneath her, would never be good enough, rich enough."
William sucked in his breath, mind turning to the poem that he'd been working on, a praise to Cecily's effulgent beauty. He'd planned to offer it to her at the Coming Out Ball for Belinda Carlisle. He almost feared the answer to his question. "What happened after that?"
"Dru found me. She thought I'd be, how did she put it? A splendid tarnished knight. So, I tried to become what she wanted, become strong enough, dangerous enough. I became William the Bloody, then I became Spike. All to try to be strong enough for my ripe wicked plum." Spike's voice sounded almost melancholy with memories, old emotions.
William swallowed, stunned by the depth of emotion that Spike had revealed. His uncle had claimed that vampires didn't feel, that they had no emotions, but it was obvious to anyone that Spike had feelings, that he had intense and passionate emotions. "Dru... your ripe wicked plum. Was she beautiful?"
"Gorgeous. Her body was like one of the slender nymphs of classical Greek sculpture, her hair like spun twilight, her eyes like pools of shadow and secrets. But she was a faithless and fickle woman, and I was never quite good enough for long. She's still beautiful, but I'm done trying to be her tarnished knight. After over a century of frustration and disappointment, I can get a hint." He leaned back just a bit, something complex and indescribable in his eyes.
William's mind turned over the description of Drusilla, trying to form an image of her. "She must have looked like a dark goddess."
Spike gave a small smile, his fingers touching the short ends of Willow's hair. "Dark and terrible and fickle, that's Dru. Like Kali of India, maybe. But I think maybe I'd like a less fickle woman in my life now."
Looking at the soft smile on the vampire's face, William had the suspicion that Spike had decided who he'd like as his new lady, the new goddess of his heart. But what did Willow think of this development? Considering her amazing and terrifying magical power and her confidence in the face of danger, surely she would be capable of dealing with the vampire. With a small shiver, he decided that he was by far more fortunate in his affections. Instead of a fiery and powerful witch, he'd fallen for his Athena, the lovely Tara. She was intelligent, sweet, shy, and had the delectable curves of a goddess. "Perhaps Aphrodite will be kinder in this century."
Spike looked at him, and a smirk slid over his face. "You have a thing for the other witch, don't you? Tara with her home baked bread and the ginger cookies?"
He could feel himself blushing. "She's... Tara is... sweet. Beautiful, charming, radiant with the warmth of her heart..."
"Damn sight better than Cecily." Spike sighed, looking back at Willow. His fingers brushing over her cheek, which still looked very pale. "With a bit of luck, we'll all survive this and maybe you'll have a bit of something with her."
William glanced up, seeing Tara emerging from the kitchen, where there was a telephone that clung to one of the walls. He felt his chest go tight, and knew that there would be this silly grin on his face. She was splendid. Ducking his head, he studied his hand as if it would reveal the secrets to victory.
"I told Giles a-about encountering Glory. He was r-really worried. There were some 'oh dear's and he made this sort of clucking noise. But he thought that it was impressive and sort of unexpected. He agreed with Spike, that W-Willow might be able... that it just might work. How's she feeling?"
"She's resting. I hope that she'll be alright by morning, although she'll probably sleep late and have a wicked headache when she gets up." Spike was still smiling at Willow, who had shifted a bit, almost snuggling against him in her slumber.
"Probably very late." Tara tucked a lock of her hair back, wisps having fallen from her loose bun. "She saved us... certainly the two of you."
William could only look at her, knowing that she was right. She was almost luminous... well, maybe that was the light from the kitchen spilling out behind her. But Tara was definitely worthy of poetry, of verses written in her praise.
end part 15.
Tara wasn't quite certain what to do now. Willow was asleep, and most likely would be well into tomorrow. She'd been to the Rosenberg house before, but that didn't mean that she felt comfortable assigning people beds. And the way that Spike had been looking at Willow... wow. She figured that either someone had seen through the lesbian act, or else he was just really persistent. Spike had definitely looked like he wanted some Willowy goodness.
Maybe Willow would be alright with that, but she was just glad that he hadn't been interested in her. Spike was... scary, and dangerous. He had this overwhelming presence... it almost made her feel like she was drowning. How could he have once been William?
She smiled as she thought of him. William was just wonderful. Handsome, clever, intelligent, courteous... and apparently he wrote poetry, although he hadn't let her see any. He was just too sweet, to nice. There weren't guys like that, so wonderful and charming and well, nice.
"Spike, I think you'll have to take Willow to her room. But as for where to put you and William..." She shook her head, tendrils of hair trying to escape from her bun.
"Right, you stay in her parent's room, William can have the couch or share the parents room with you, I'll either stay with Willow if I can sun proof the room or in the basement again." Spike's words seemed entirely sensible.
Tara felt herself blushing as she pictured sharing a room, a bed with William. He made her feel... oh, goddess he made her feel. But she didn't think they would be doing that sort of thing. Not in Willow's parents' bedroom, anyhow. "That... t-that should be fine with me." She blushed, not quite looking at William.
"I... ahhh... I'm sure that we can figure out something that will be acceptable." William was blushing and looking away.
Spike only chuckled, sounding entirely evil and amused as he slowly, very carefully shifted and stood up, Willow in his arms. "You two figure it out. Just don't get to loud with it, Red needs her sleep."
For a moment, Tara wished that the floor would open up and swallow her. But that would leave her in the basement, where Spike might be sleeping. She certainly didn't want that. "He... we wouldn't... ohhh."
"He's most... improper. I wouldn't... that is, it would be most inappropriate if we were to..." William's stammers sounded almost as embarrassed as Tara felt.
Glancing over, Tara discovered that it didn't look as if William was opposed to the idea of sharing a room with her. Actually, it looked like he might have some of those embarrassing wistful fantasies of his own. Her cheeks still very hot, she looked over at him. "I don't think the couch looks like it would be that comfortable."
"Are you certain? That is, you wouldn't object..." William was turning redder and redder.
She smiled, touching his arm, partly from the desire to reassure him and partly just to touch him. "You don't bite, and if anything tries... we'll be more likely to notice if we're not scattered."
"So, as a simple matter of safety... we should...stay close?" William began to smile, his expression delighted and worried all at the same time. "I shall do my best to either keep you safe or make enough noise that everyone else knows there's trouble."
"For safety, of course. And umm... right. We'll just look for some extra blankets." She knew that she was blushing again. But she just couldn't quite stop.
They settled for sharing the bed, Tara under the covers, and William over those covers with a few more blankets for his own warmth. It was mostly innocent. They still ended up snuggled together, with her head resting on his shoulder, contented smiles on both faces.
end part 16.
Tara had been trying to take charge, not of everything, but of settling the domestic things. Getting everyone bandaged up, and safely settled for the night. She'd looked at him where he'd been talking to William, her eyes all soft and dewy as she looked at the mortal that he'd once been. "Spike, I think you'll have to take Willow to her room. But as for where to put you and William..."
She had a good point about Willow, but he wasn't about to let her plan out his future. As nervous as she seemed around him, she'd probably want to lock him in the basement, although he'd already discovered that it didn't have a lock. "Right, you stay in her parent's room, William can have the couch or share the parents room with you, I'll either stay with Willow if I can sun proof the room or in the basement again."
He could hear them stammering and protesting far too much about the idea of sharing a room. They were also blushing, which smelled pretty appealing. Not that he'd eat either of them if he could, Tara was to important to Willow, and as for William, he was... well, in a way, he was William and William was him. It would be wrong to think of his previous self as dinner. It was a bit tricky to move Willow into his arms and get up from the couch without disturbing her, but he managed. Glancing at the pair of them, neither quite looking at the other, he grinned. "You two figure it out. Just don't get to loud with it, Red needs her sleep."
Maybe they could fool each other, but he knew that those two were interested. The idea didn't really bother him that much. Granted that Tara was much to shy and nervous for him, but she was far and above better than Cecily. And if they hooked up, then Willow and Tara wouldn't be playing their little lesbian make believe...
Willow shifted a bit, her breath warm against his chest. Her hand loosely held his shirt, as if she didn't want him to leave her. She'd sent Glory away, all to keep them safe. It had been amazing and almost terrifying. It had almost looked as if she was standing in a breeze, her hair fluttering, and there had been this shimmer around her. That had been before she'd smelled like blood, before the crimson trickle from her nose, before Glory had vanished and Willow collapsed.
He carried her to her room, feeling unexpectedly worried about dropping her, or bumping her into a wall or doorway. She'd slipped into his heart, making him care about her, making him want to keep her safe. Had it been when she'd found him under the hedge and got him into her basement? Had it been when she'd got him blood to heal? Had it been when she'd decided that they had to keep William safe? He had the suspicion that whatever this was that he felt for her had started before that. Maybe it had just been forced to the surface, brought out of hiding? Or maybe it was the idea that if she would save him, help him heal, then she couldn't hate him?
But he'd known there was no hatred in her for him. Not now, if there had ever been. He'd watched her watching him, and while there was often puzzlement, sometimes anger, there was no hate. That made him feel better, for some reason.
Tenderly, he lowered her to her bed, helping unfold her a bit, straightening her limbs, brushing at her hair a little. For a moment, he felt the urge to help her out of her clothing, to see her spread naked on the dark blue sheets. But no, she wasn't Sleeping Beauty waiting for her Prince, she was flattened by working massive amounts of magic, and all to keep him safe. With a small grin, he kicked off his shoes, closing her curtains.
There was a small noise, almost like a whimper, and he could hear her heart beating faster, smell the faint scent of fear. He turned around, looking at WIllow. Her fingers were almost groping for something, a tiny frown on her face as her eyes flickered back and forth beneath their lids.
"It's alright, luv. I'm still here, you didn't let her take me away. Tara and William are downstairs. I can stay here if you give me a few moments to put a blanket over the door. Don't fancy getting toasted." His voice seemed to sooth her.
Walking over, he brushed his fingers over her cheek, the soft skin reminding him of flower petals. She felt awfully warm... She seemed to settle at his touch, as if the nightmares had retreated. Was it him? Slowly, he pulled his hand away, getting up from the bed and starting to walk towards the door. Her heart sped up a bit, and there was the faint scent of unhappiness, of fear.
"After everything that I've said, I can't quite figure out why you'd want me to stay. I threatened you, your friends... I'm the big bad." He paused, looking at the still form of Willow. "You're right, I'm not going to hurt you. I just wish I knew how you can be so confident of that."
If his presence kept her nightmares away, then he'd just have to stay with her. Just have to sleep close enough that she knew she wasn't alone. He pulled off his shirt, tossing it towards the corner before sliding into the bed with her. He pressed up against her, her body feeling so warm, almost scorching against his bare chest and stomach. She made a soft sigh, and snuggled back against him, her hair tickling at his chin.
"Here I am, snuggled into bed with a hot woman, and there's no shagging. Someone must be laughing about this..." Closing his eyes, he settled more comfortably, one arm sliding around her, the other slipping under the pillow that cradled both of their heads. She smelled like the ocean and blood and something almost spicy that had to be magic.
Resting his head against her, he knew that he would do his best to keep her safe. She mattered that much to him. He just wished that he could understand it better. Something deep inside stirred, a long buried urge, spinning words, phrases about alabaster skin and hair like a sunset, like embers, like flowing blood... No. He would write no poetry, not even about her. But it definitely was a sign that she'd curled up in his heart, as firmly as she was now curled in his arms.
Maybe after Glory was gone, they could... He wondered if there could be something between them. If she felt anything for him. If she could see him as more than a vampire, more than someone who'd been their enemy. Let the future unfold as it will... for now, he had her in his arms. Spike was smiling as he drifted into slumber.
end part 17.
Willow woke up, slowly. It felt as if everything was burning, a stiff, hot protest to consciousness. Her eyes felt scratchy and dry, her tongue felt swollen and stiff. She almost felt feverish, and there was a welcome coolness along her back, with a line of cool around her waist...
That would be Spike. He was pressed against her back, his bare arm draped over her side. He had snuggled up behind her, and somehow, she was in her very own bed. Thankfully, she was still almost completely dressed. She would have to be upset waking up naked with Spike and not having any idea how she'd gotten that way. Naked... was Spike even wearing anything?
Very slowly, she turned, her head, no, her entire body throbbing in time with what she realized was her heartbeat. Spike's bare torso was the sight that met her eyes. Slowly, she looked over him, noting the planes of muscles, the smooth pale skin, the way his hair had become tousled in slumber... She wanted to carefully reach out and move the blanket, just enough to find out if he was naked.
She wasn't quite sure if she was hoping that he was naked, or hoping that he had something on. Her hand moved carefully, tugging the blanket just a little, revealing the edge of charcoal colored denim. Surely that was relief flooding through her?
Moving her legs enough to get out of her bed, she found herself unexpectedly sympathetic with so many movie portrayals of the Frankenstein creature, her body feeling sluggish and unresponsive. She staggered towards her dresser, grabbing a chang of clothing quickly before lurching to the bathroom, hoping that a shower would help her feel better. She slumped against the wall of the shower, feeling the water pound against her back.
She had no idea how long it was before she left the shower, still uncertain what temperature the water had been, but she felt better. The throbbing pain had pulled back to just her head, and her eyes still felt scratchy, but no longer dry. Her body was still a bit stiff, and she was shivering for some reason, her fingers frustratingly clumsy as she struggled into her clothing. Emerging into her room, she found a pair of blue eyes watching her, Spike still lounging on her bed, a small half smile on his sexy lips.
"You're in my bed. Should I ask why?" Part of her feared some sort of mocking answer, but she wanted to know. Wanted to understand. Part of her hoped that maybe, just maybe... could he feel some of the same protective urges that she did? Willow shied away from trying to analyze the source of those feelings.
With a supple shrug, he sat up. "I brought you here, and you seemed to have bad dreams if I tried to leave. So I stayed. Nice soft bed, and it felt good to be curled up with someone warm."
"oh. umm... Thanks." She didn't know quite what to say. He'd helped her to rest peacefully.
With a stretch, Spike looked at her, his expression thoughtful. "Are you hungry, luv?"
Considering the question, she made a small face. "I don't feel hungry, but I know that's the headache. I need Excedrin, and then I need food. The magic... I used a lot of it last night... assuming that it was last night instead of last Tuesday or something. The power has to be replenished from somewhere, so... yeah, I should have food."
"Tara and William are downstairs, in the kitchen. You missed breakfast and lunch, but someone will whip up something for you. I'll help you back to the living room." His voice was calm, almost content.
Willow sighed, part of her wishing that she could just lay back down beside Spike, and not move for a while. "That sounds good, but I think I'm still a bit wobbly. I'll probably need to lean on you a bit."
"Lean all you like, it's not that bad." His words were comforting as he scooped her into his arms. "I can be strong for you."
Willow made a small squeak as he picked her up, before relaxing against him. It was nice to have someone offering to be strong for her, and Spike smelled good. He was nice to lean against. But there was the definite feeling that he'd meant more than the idea of helping her to the rest of the house.
"What's good right after a lot of magic?" His chest vibrated a bit as he carried her.
"mmmm... Something with electrolytes, like Gatorade. Then, sugars, proteins..." Willow murmured, amazingly aware of the fact that his neck was mere inches from her lips. If she leaned a little bit forward... But no. She didn't want to jeopardize his willingness to help her. "I just can't handle meat first thing after. My stomach always feels all twisted, and it won't keep meat down for a while. Maybe fruit, some bread..."
"We can get you all taken care of. I'm sure Tara will know just what to fix if I can't figure out something. Which way does the kitchen window face?" He sounded like he was concerned for her.
"North I think... towards the big tree. Not a lot of sunshine, but you have to watch out for even that little bit..." She rested her hand against his chest, feeling the supple motion of his muscles as he carried her. Hints of dreams flickered back to her, and the image of Spike without his shirt. If she and Tara were no longer pretending to be an item, could there be a chance... Maybe he might see her as a woman, as someone that might be desirable?
Spike placed her in the large chair, as gently as if she were made of fine china. He had this little smile that had to mean something, and his fingers brushed over her hair as he made his way to the kitchen. Hope gleamed like a dewdrop in her chest, small, easily destroyed, but persistently gleaming, sparkling, the perfect fuel for feelings to grow. Could it be possible that Spike... that he saw her as more than someone to keep safe, more than a friend of the Slayer? He had to see her as more, otherwise... even if it was just the desire to keep her around so that she could keep him safe, he didn't have to be so... charming, to smile at her like that, to worry about whether or not she had nightmares.
Willow found herself smiling at the inescapable conclusion. Spike liked her, at least a little. Not as a protector, not as someone that brought him blood, but... he liked her. This changed everything. Maybe those dreams weren't quite so unreachable after all...
He came back with waffles, covered over with strawberries and whipped cream. Willow blinked, feeling a bit amazed by the food. "I didn't even know there was any whipped cream. It looks delicious, thank you."
Slowly, Willow ate the strawberry waffles, still pondering Spike and all the recent changes. How had things changed so quickly? How had he gone from someone that threatened to kill her as part of Buffy's 'ragtag batch of followers' to the star of her naughty dreams? Well, actually, he'd been in her dreams long before Glory had tortured him. But when had the way he looked at her changed? When had he started looking at her, not just as a person, but as someone to keep safe, someone to take care off?
Almost, those answers were more important that figuring out how to deal with Glory. But if they didn't get rid of Glory, she would never be able to try for something with Spike. Never know if he just liked her or if she filled his passionate lustful longings the way he filled hers. Never know if she could be Persephone to his Hades.
end part 18
rating: pg 13
pairings: will become Spike/Willow, William/Tara
disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
distribution: Bite Me, WLS, WWW, Cat, Red SoulMates, yourmission, Feen, - anyone else please ask.
set in soon to be very AU season 5.
response to Fayth's Alterna Spike Challenge:
Spike had caught her before she could hit the ground, cradling Willow's limp body in his arms. The minions were gone, either killed, or fled, possibly from their mistress' wrath. William and Tara were close, reaching trembling hands towards Willow, eyes wide, as the scent of fear rolled from them. He touched her cheek, frowning as he watched the blood trickling from her nose, noticed the pallor of her skin.
"I have a handkerchief." William's voice was awkwardly self conscious, but he was trying to help Willow. He began to gingerly dab at the blood with the scrap of white linen.
Tara's fingers hovered over Willow's hair, not quite touching her friend. "She's not awake... that w-was too m-much magic, what if..."
"She's got a steady heartbeat, a bit slow, but strong and steady. Breathing's even too. Let's get over there, then we can make sure there's nothing else. And she'll need something when she wakes up." Carefully, Spike shifted his grip on Willow's limp form, lifting her from the ground. "Feel like I should be on the cover of a bloody romance novel."
"Nah... she's still fully dressed, and looks... not aware enough for a cover picture." Tara's voice almost managed amusement.
They made their way to the Rosenberg house much more swiftly, and Tara fumbled with her key ring, producing a key to Willow's house in her shaking fingers. Unlocking the door, she rushed inside, her pulse still rapid, still leaving the scent of fear behind her like perfume.
William followed Tara, looking troubled as he glanced towards Spike. "How will he be able to... Doesn't he need an invitation from Willow?"
He couldn't help it, he gave a slightly feral grin to the mortal that he'd been as he carried Willow across the thresh hold. "Already got one from Red. She brought me inside after... She invited me in. Bandaged me up, gave me a safe place to sleep. Now, she's the one needing a bit of rest."
Carefully, he laid her on the couch, slipping her shoes from her feet and tossing them into the corner. He brushed his fingers over her cheek, breathing in her scent, apples and something that wasn't quite cinnamon... She smelled wonderful. "Tara.. why isn't she waking up? You're the witch, explain this to me."
William had cautiously settled himself into a chair, his blue eyes still dancing with questions and worries and fear as he looked at Willow. "Shouldn't she have needed more time, more preparation to do that? Herbs, powders, a protective circle of some sort?"
Tara came back into the room, leaning against the chair that William was sitting in. "He's r-right, proper c-casting would use herbs or powders, a protective circle, and it would... take longer. Casting like that, all at once with just will and power... it's harder, more exhausting. It makes thing take more energy, that's why most witches don't do it. She's just... she's out of energy. So much out of energy that she's passed out. Trying too much can do that, if you go to far.
Something inside of him seemed to ease as he heard Tara's response, her stammering fading as she focused on Willow's safety instead of her fear. Willow would be alright. She would wake up, and everything would be just fine. "What did she do, anyhow?"
"She's been practicing a spell to teleport objects. But she's not very good at it, she can't control where the object goes, and sometimes, it does bad things to what the object was sitting on." Tara was frowning again, no longer reeking of fear. "But teleporting something that size... it's not a surprise that she's out cold afterwards. It would just... That took a lot of power."
Something connected in his mind, something that he could almost follow the shape of. "How much power? Could you do it? Could the Watcher?"
"No, I definitely couldn't. I don't think Giles could either. I think the two of us together could use a ritual to send something that size, but not... not just like that. That took a lot of power."
The shape was gaining definition. "So, do you think she could use her magic on Glory again?"
Tara frowned, her hands fluttering like pale birds. "Well, if she had the power once, she probably would have the power again, but... Glory would know if Willow tried to teleport her again, she could try to counter it."
"I don't think that's what he means." William's voice was low, caught between worry and amazement. "The sheer audacity of the idea is... well, the scope of the task is incredibly daunting. I think he means could Willow use that power draining spell against Glory while you and Giles entrap her."
"You win the prize, Exeter. We don't have a better plan." Spike's voice held a hint of growl as he remembered the evil woman, remembered the pain she'd inflicted. He tried to calm himself down, closing his eyes and focusing on Willow's heartbeat.
Tara gasped, the scent of fear returning. "Oh goddess... that's crazy. Your talking about Willow going up against a... against an evil goddess."
He looked up at her, certain that his eyes were amber. "We already are against her. Unless you fancy rolling over and playing carpet at her feet, we ARE against her right now. We don't want her to get this key, don't want her here, don't want her causing any more trouble. What we need is a way to make it work. Anyone got a better idea?" He paused, looking around, forcing his emotions back under control.
"glass of water... excedrin... ohhhh" Willow's voice was little more than a weak croaking, almost like one of the frogs that she was so unsettled by.
Spike helped her into a sitting position, slipping himself behind her so that she leaned back against him as William and Tara got the water and headache medicine. He wasn't quite certain why that took both of them. He brushed his fingers lightly over her hair, a faint smile on his lips.
"Shhh luv, it will be okay. We're safe for now, thanks to you."
end part 14.
Tara had found the medicine for Willow while he'd found a glass and filled it with water. William found himself wondering if the vampire's plan might work. If Willow would be capable of taking power away from that... from HER. She'd been terrifying. He was also a bit unsettled that he'd known what the vampire... what Spike's crazy plan was. While there was something to the explanation of they didn't have a choice but to oppose Glory or try to flee, that still didn't explain why he had made the same jump of not quite logic as the vampire.
Unless there had been something to the claim that he had once been William. But if Spike had once been William Exeter, he had changed a great deal, and far more than simply getting pointed teeth. He found himself thinking about those changes, about the claim that Spike had been William Exeter. It fascinated and frightened him all at once.
Tara went to another room to call Rupert Giles on the telephone and explain what had happened. This left Willow leaning against Spike, apparently asleep, Spike, and himself in the room. Maybe he could get a few answers to some of his questions...
"You said that you had been me, once upon a time." He looked at Spike, hoping that his questions wouldn't make the vampire angry. Tara had assured him that the vampire couldn't harm him, but her explanation hadn't reassured him very much. What was this chip thing anyhow? A chip of what?
Spike glanced at him, his eyes wary, unframed by spectacles. "Yeah. It was a long time ago."
Gathering his courage, William continued. "You seem... very different from me. How... was it becoming a vampire, or was it the passing of years?"
One hand resting over Willow in a gesture that looked unexpectedly protective, Spike gave a small nod. "Both. Time and experience, and some determined effort. It started with Cecily. I... you... there was a poem. She rejected it, rejected me. Said I was beneath her, would never be good enough, rich enough."
William sucked in his breath, mind turning to the poem that he'd been working on, a praise to Cecily's effulgent beauty. He'd planned to offer it to her at the Coming Out Ball for Belinda Carlisle. He almost feared the answer to his question. "What happened after that?"
"Dru found me. She thought I'd be, how did she put it? A splendid tarnished knight. So, I tried to become what she wanted, become strong enough, dangerous enough. I became William the Bloody, then I became Spike. All to try to be strong enough for my ripe wicked plum." Spike's voice sounded almost melancholy with memories, old emotions.
William swallowed, stunned by the depth of emotion that Spike had revealed. His uncle had claimed that vampires didn't feel, that they had no emotions, but it was obvious to anyone that Spike had feelings, that he had intense and passionate emotions. "Dru... your ripe wicked plum. Was she beautiful?"
"Gorgeous. Her body was like one of the slender nymphs of classical Greek sculpture, her hair like spun twilight, her eyes like pools of shadow and secrets. But she was a faithless and fickle woman, and I was never quite good enough for long. She's still beautiful, but I'm done trying to be her tarnished knight. After over a century of frustration and disappointment, I can get a hint." He leaned back just a bit, something complex and indescribable in his eyes.
William's mind turned over the description of Drusilla, trying to form an image of her. "She must have looked like a dark goddess."
Spike gave a small smile, his fingers touching the short ends of Willow's hair. "Dark and terrible and fickle, that's Dru. Like Kali of India, maybe. But I think maybe I'd like a less fickle woman in my life now."
Looking at the soft smile on the vampire's face, William had the suspicion that Spike had decided who he'd like as his new lady, the new goddess of his heart. But what did Willow think of this development? Considering her amazing and terrifying magical power and her confidence in the face of danger, surely she would be capable of dealing with the vampire. With a small shiver, he decided that he was by far more fortunate in his affections. Instead of a fiery and powerful witch, he'd fallen for his Athena, the lovely Tara. She was intelligent, sweet, shy, and had the delectable curves of a goddess. "Perhaps Aphrodite will be kinder in this century."
Spike looked at him, and a smirk slid over his face. "You have a thing for the other witch, don't you? Tara with her home baked bread and the ginger cookies?"
He could feel himself blushing. "She's... Tara is... sweet. Beautiful, charming, radiant with the warmth of her heart..."
"Damn sight better than Cecily." Spike sighed, looking back at Willow. His fingers brushing over her cheek, which still looked very pale. "With a bit of luck, we'll all survive this and maybe you'll have a bit of something with her."
William glanced up, seeing Tara emerging from the kitchen, where there was a telephone that clung to one of the walls. He felt his chest go tight, and knew that there would be this silly grin on his face. She was splendid. Ducking his head, he studied his hand as if it would reveal the secrets to victory.
"I told Giles a-about encountering Glory. He was r-really worried. There were some 'oh dear's and he made this sort of clucking noise. But he thought that it was impressive and sort of unexpected. He agreed with Spike, that W-Willow might be able... that it just might work. How's she feeling?"
"She's resting. I hope that she'll be alright by morning, although she'll probably sleep late and have a wicked headache when she gets up." Spike was still smiling at Willow, who had shifted a bit, almost snuggling against him in her slumber.
"Probably very late." Tara tucked a lock of her hair back, wisps having fallen from her loose bun. "She saved us... certainly the two of you."
William could only look at her, knowing that she was right. She was almost luminous... well, maybe that was the light from the kitchen spilling out behind her. But Tara was definitely worthy of poetry, of verses written in her praise.
end part 15.
Tara wasn't quite certain what to do now. Willow was asleep, and most likely would be well into tomorrow. She'd been to the Rosenberg house before, but that didn't mean that she felt comfortable assigning people beds. And the way that Spike had been looking at Willow... wow. She figured that either someone had seen through the lesbian act, or else he was just really persistent. Spike had definitely looked like he wanted some Willowy goodness.
Maybe Willow would be alright with that, but she was just glad that he hadn't been interested in her. Spike was... scary, and dangerous. He had this overwhelming presence... it almost made her feel like she was drowning. How could he have once been William?
She smiled as she thought of him. William was just wonderful. Handsome, clever, intelligent, courteous... and apparently he wrote poetry, although he hadn't let her see any. He was just too sweet, to nice. There weren't guys like that, so wonderful and charming and well, nice.
"Spike, I think you'll have to take Willow to her room. But as for where to put you and William..." She shook her head, tendrils of hair trying to escape from her bun.
"Right, you stay in her parent's room, William can have the couch or share the parents room with you, I'll either stay with Willow if I can sun proof the room or in the basement again." Spike's words seemed entirely sensible.
Tara felt herself blushing as she pictured sharing a room, a bed with William. He made her feel... oh, goddess he made her feel. But she didn't think they would be doing that sort of thing. Not in Willow's parents' bedroom, anyhow. "That... t-that should be fine with me." She blushed, not quite looking at William.
"I... ahhh... I'm sure that we can figure out something that will be acceptable." William was blushing and looking away.
Spike only chuckled, sounding entirely evil and amused as he slowly, very carefully shifted and stood up, Willow in his arms. "You two figure it out. Just don't get to loud with it, Red needs her sleep."
For a moment, Tara wished that the floor would open up and swallow her. But that would leave her in the basement, where Spike might be sleeping. She certainly didn't want that. "He... we wouldn't... ohhh."
"He's most... improper. I wouldn't... that is, it would be most inappropriate if we were to..." William's stammers sounded almost as embarrassed as Tara felt.
Glancing over, Tara discovered that it didn't look as if William was opposed to the idea of sharing a room with her. Actually, it looked like he might have some of those embarrassing wistful fantasies of his own. Her cheeks still very hot, she looked over at him. "I don't think the couch looks like it would be that comfortable."
"Are you certain? That is, you wouldn't object..." William was turning redder and redder.
She smiled, touching his arm, partly from the desire to reassure him and partly just to touch him. "You don't bite, and if anything tries... we'll be more likely to notice if we're not scattered."
"So, as a simple matter of safety... we should...stay close?" William began to smile, his expression delighted and worried all at the same time. "I shall do my best to either keep you safe or make enough noise that everyone else knows there's trouble."
"For safety, of course. And umm... right. We'll just look for some extra blankets." She knew that she was blushing again. But she just couldn't quite stop.
They settled for sharing the bed, Tara under the covers, and William over those covers with a few more blankets for his own warmth. It was mostly innocent. They still ended up snuggled together, with her head resting on his shoulder, contented smiles on both faces.
end part 16.
Tara had been trying to take charge, not of everything, but of settling the domestic things. Getting everyone bandaged up, and safely settled for the night. She'd looked at him where he'd been talking to William, her eyes all soft and dewy as she looked at the mortal that he'd once been. "Spike, I think you'll have to take Willow to her room. But as for where to put you and William..."
She had a good point about Willow, but he wasn't about to let her plan out his future. As nervous as she seemed around him, she'd probably want to lock him in the basement, although he'd already discovered that it didn't have a lock. "Right, you stay in her parent's room, William can have the couch or share the parents room with you, I'll either stay with Willow if I can sun proof the room or in the basement again."
He could hear them stammering and protesting far too much about the idea of sharing a room. They were also blushing, which smelled pretty appealing. Not that he'd eat either of them if he could, Tara was to important to Willow, and as for William, he was... well, in a way, he was William and William was him. It would be wrong to think of his previous self as dinner. It was a bit tricky to move Willow into his arms and get up from the couch without disturbing her, but he managed. Glancing at the pair of them, neither quite looking at the other, he grinned. "You two figure it out. Just don't get to loud with it, Red needs her sleep."
Maybe they could fool each other, but he knew that those two were interested. The idea didn't really bother him that much. Granted that Tara was much to shy and nervous for him, but she was far and above better than Cecily. And if they hooked up, then Willow and Tara wouldn't be playing their little lesbian make believe...
Willow shifted a bit, her breath warm against his chest. Her hand loosely held his shirt, as if she didn't want him to leave her. She'd sent Glory away, all to keep them safe. It had been amazing and almost terrifying. It had almost looked as if she was standing in a breeze, her hair fluttering, and there had been this shimmer around her. That had been before she'd smelled like blood, before the crimson trickle from her nose, before Glory had vanished and Willow collapsed.
He carried her to her room, feeling unexpectedly worried about dropping her, or bumping her into a wall or doorway. She'd slipped into his heart, making him care about her, making him want to keep her safe. Had it been when she'd found him under the hedge and got him into her basement? Had it been when she'd got him blood to heal? Had it been when she'd decided that they had to keep William safe? He had the suspicion that whatever this was that he felt for her had started before that. Maybe it had just been forced to the surface, brought out of hiding? Or maybe it was the idea that if she would save him, help him heal, then she couldn't hate him?
But he'd known there was no hatred in her for him. Not now, if there had ever been. He'd watched her watching him, and while there was often puzzlement, sometimes anger, there was no hate. That made him feel better, for some reason.
Tenderly, he lowered her to her bed, helping unfold her a bit, straightening her limbs, brushing at her hair a little. For a moment, he felt the urge to help her out of her clothing, to see her spread naked on the dark blue sheets. But no, she wasn't Sleeping Beauty waiting for her Prince, she was flattened by working massive amounts of magic, and all to keep him safe. With a small grin, he kicked off his shoes, closing her curtains.
There was a small noise, almost like a whimper, and he could hear her heart beating faster, smell the faint scent of fear. He turned around, looking at WIllow. Her fingers were almost groping for something, a tiny frown on her face as her eyes flickered back and forth beneath their lids.
"It's alright, luv. I'm still here, you didn't let her take me away. Tara and William are downstairs. I can stay here if you give me a few moments to put a blanket over the door. Don't fancy getting toasted." His voice seemed to sooth her.
Walking over, he brushed his fingers over her cheek, the soft skin reminding him of flower petals. She felt awfully warm... She seemed to settle at his touch, as if the nightmares had retreated. Was it him? Slowly, he pulled his hand away, getting up from the bed and starting to walk towards the door. Her heart sped up a bit, and there was the faint scent of unhappiness, of fear.
"After everything that I've said, I can't quite figure out why you'd want me to stay. I threatened you, your friends... I'm the big bad." He paused, looking at the still form of Willow. "You're right, I'm not going to hurt you. I just wish I knew how you can be so confident of that."
If his presence kept her nightmares away, then he'd just have to stay with her. Just have to sleep close enough that she knew she wasn't alone. He pulled off his shirt, tossing it towards the corner before sliding into the bed with her. He pressed up against her, her body feeling so warm, almost scorching against his bare chest and stomach. She made a soft sigh, and snuggled back against him, her hair tickling at his chin.
"Here I am, snuggled into bed with a hot woman, and there's no shagging. Someone must be laughing about this..." Closing his eyes, he settled more comfortably, one arm sliding around her, the other slipping under the pillow that cradled both of their heads. She smelled like the ocean and blood and something almost spicy that had to be magic.
Resting his head against her, he knew that he would do his best to keep her safe. She mattered that much to him. He just wished that he could understand it better. Something deep inside stirred, a long buried urge, spinning words, phrases about alabaster skin and hair like a sunset, like embers, like flowing blood... No. He would write no poetry, not even about her. But it definitely was a sign that she'd curled up in his heart, as firmly as she was now curled in his arms.
Maybe after Glory was gone, they could... He wondered if there could be something between them. If she felt anything for him. If she could see him as more than a vampire, more than someone who'd been their enemy. Let the future unfold as it will... for now, he had her in his arms. Spike was smiling as he drifted into slumber.
end part 17.
Willow woke up, slowly. It felt as if everything was burning, a stiff, hot protest to consciousness. Her eyes felt scratchy and dry, her tongue felt swollen and stiff. She almost felt feverish, and there was a welcome coolness along her back, with a line of cool around her waist...
That would be Spike. He was pressed against her back, his bare arm draped over her side. He had snuggled up behind her, and somehow, she was in her very own bed. Thankfully, she was still almost completely dressed. She would have to be upset waking up naked with Spike and not having any idea how she'd gotten that way. Naked... was Spike even wearing anything?
Very slowly, she turned, her head, no, her entire body throbbing in time with what she realized was her heartbeat. Spike's bare torso was the sight that met her eyes. Slowly, she looked over him, noting the planes of muscles, the smooth pale skin, the way his hair had become tousled in slumber... She wanted to carefully reach out and move the blanket, just enough to find out if he was naked.
She wasn't quite sure if she was hoping that he was naked, or hoping that he had something on. Her hand moved carefully, tugging the blanket just a little, revealing the edge of charcoal colored denim. Surely that was relief flooding through her?
Moving her legs enough to get out of her bed, she found herself unexpectedly sympathetic with so many movie portrayals of the Frankenstein creature, her body feeling sluggish and unresponsive. She staggered towards her dresser, grabbing a chang of clothing quickly before lurching to the bathroom, hoping that a shower would help her feel better. She slumped against the wall of the shower, feeling the water pound against her back.
She had no idea how long it was before she left the shower, still uncertain what temperature the water had been, but she felt better. The throbbing pain had pulled back to just her head, and her eyes still felt scratchy, but no longer dry. Her body was still a bit stiff, and she was shivering for some reason, her fingers frustratingly clumsy as she struggled into her clothing. Emerging into her room, she found a pair of blue eyes watching her, Spike still lounging on her bed, a small half smile on his sexy lips.
"You're in my bed. Should I ask why?" Part of her feared some sort of mocking answer, but she wanted to know. Wanted to understand. Part of her hoped that maybe, just maybe... could he feel some of the same protective urges that she did? Willow shied away from trying to analyze the source of those feelings.
With a supple shrug, he sat up. "I brought you here, and you seemed to have bad dreams if I tried to leave. So I stayed. Nice soft bed, and it felt good to be curled up with someone warm."
"oh. umm... Thanks." She didn't know quite what to say. He'd helped her to rest peacefully.
With a stretch, Spike looked at her, his expression thoughtful. "Are you hungry, luv?"
Considering the question, she made a small face. "I don't feel hungry, but I know that's the headache. I need Excedrin, and then I need food. The magic... I used a lot of it last night... assuming that it was last night instead of last Tuesday or something. The power has to be replenished from somewhere, so... yeah, I should have food."
"Tara and William are downstairs, in the kitchen. You missed breakfast and lunch, but someone will whip up something for you. I'll help you back to the living room." His voice was calm, almost content.
Willow sighed, part of her wishing that she could just lay back down beside Spike, and not move for a while. "That sounds good, but I think I'm still a bit wobbly. I'll probably need to lean on you a bit."
"Lean all you like, it's not that bad." His words were comforting as he scooped her into his arms. "I can be strong for you."
Willow made a small squeak as he picked her up, before relaxing against him. It was nice to have someone offering to be strong for her, and Spike smelled good. He was nice to lean against. But there was the definite feeling that he'd meant more than the idea of helping her to the rest of the house.
"What's good right after a lot of magic?" His chest vibrated a bit as he carried her.
"mmmm... Something with electrolytes, like Gatorade. Then, sugars, proteins..." Willow murmured, amazingly aware of the fact that his neck was mere inches from her lips. If she leaned a little bit forward... But no. She didn't want to jeopardize his willingness to help her. "I just can't handle meat first thing after. My stomach always feels all twisted, and it won't keep meat down for a while. Maybe fruit, some bread..."
"We can get you all taken care of. I'm sure Tara will know just what to fix if I can't figure out something. Which way does the kitchen window face?" He sounded like he was concerned for her.
"North I think... towards the big tree. Not a lot of sunshine, but you have to watch out for even that little bit..." She rested her hand against his chest, feeling the supple motion of his muscles as he carried her. Hints of dreams flickered back to her, and the image of Spike without his shirt. If she and Tara were no longer pretending to be an item, could there be a chance... Maybe he might see her as a woman, as someone that might be desirable?
Spike placed her in the large chair, as gently as if she were made of fine china. He had this little smile that had to mean something, and his fingers brushed over her hair as he made his way to the kitchen. Hope gleamed like a dewdrop in her chest, small, easily destroyed, but persistently gleaming, sparkling, the perfect fuel for feelings to grow. Could it be possible that Spike... that he saw her as more than someone to keep safe, more than a friend of the Slayer? He had to see her as more, otherwise... even if it was just the desire to keep her around so that she could keep him safe, he didn't have to be so... charming, to smile at her like that, to worry about whether or not she had nightmares.
Willow found herself smiling at the inescapable conclusion. Spike liked her, at least a little. Not as a protector, not as someone that brought him blood, but... he liked her. This changed everything. Maybe those dreams weren't quite so unreachable after all...
He came back with waffles, covered over with strawberries and whipped cream. Willow blinked, feeling a bit amazed by the food. "I didn't even know there was any whipped cream. It looks delicious, thank you."
Slowly, Willow ate the strawberry waffles, still pondering Spike and all the recent changes. How had things changed so quickly? How had he gone from someone that threatened to kill her as part of Buffy's 'ragtag batch of followers' to the star of her naughty dreams? Well, actually, he'd been in her dreams long before Glory had tortured him. But when had the way he looked at her changed? When had he started looking at her, not just as a person, but as someone to keep safe, someone to take care off?
Almost, those answers were more important that figuring out how to deal with Glory. But if they didn't get rid of Glory, she would never be able to try for something with Spike. Never know if he just liked her or if she filled his passionate lustful longings the way he filled hers. Never know if she could be Persephone to his Hades.
end part 18