Chapter Four

          The flight was exhausting and Willow lost count of the hours somewhere after six. Other than constantly making sure Spike was out of the sun's reach Willow was bored out of her mind. Sure there were a couple of in-flight movies but they weren't to her taste. So, instead of watching the movies or reading or listening to a CD like everyone else on the flight Willow was trapped in her dreams. Reliving, over and over the traumatic events that had so ruined her life. She woke with a start several times, a silent cry hanging on her lips, only to find Spike eyeing her wearily.

          Spike was another issue Willow had to deal with. He had dished out all this money – from where Willow didn't even venture a guess – then tried to assure her it was "no big deal" and the money would have never been used if he hadn't sprung for the trip. Willow wasn't an idiot and she knew that Spike was worried about her, though he'd never say as much aloud, and was just trying to get her away from her past. What Spike didn't know, however, was that the farther Willow left Sunnydale behind the quicker her memories came.

          The pain, the guilt, the regret, the undeniable urge to end it all simply to stop the hurt – it was all there, lingering inside of Willow and she didn't know if it'd ever go away.

          "You okay, love?"

          Startled from her thoughts it took Willow a few seconds to place herself again. "Yeah," swallowing her memories Willow plastered a smile on her face. "I'm fine Spike. I was just thinking."

          "About what?" Spike asked suspiciously.

          Shrugging, Willow answered, "Nothing in particular. Just thinking."

          "You're a horrible liar Willow."

          Glaring, Willow looked Spike straight in the eye and replied, "So are you blondie."

          After that the two fell into silence – Spike starring at the seat in front of him and Willow peering through the unshuttered window in front of her. Both wanting to speak both knowing it'd do no good. Occasionally Spike would glance at Willow and just miss her glancing at him. Willow knew Spike's motive for planning this trip and Spike knew what it was that plagued Willow's thought – neither, however, were willing to admit to it.

          So, the flight continued and finally came to an end. What hour of the morning it was Willow couldn't fathom a guess all she knew was that it was A.M. – very, very, A.M. Groggily she followed Spike through the airport to claim their baggage and was only vaguely aware of getting into a cab and being taken to a hotel room many, many stories up. She remembered nothing, however, after collapsing onto her bed and surrendering to sleep. Thankfully, though, her dreams were of nothing and she woke refreshed and smiling.

          Shuffling into the rooms kitchen – the hotel room, as it turned out, was the penthouse suite and, Willow swore, larger than the whole of Sunnydale – Willow smelled bacon and eggs sizzling and was immediately drawn. "Morning, love."

          Happily accepting the mug of coffee Spike offered her Willow dove into the plate of food before her and devoured not one, but two servings before pushing the plate away. Willow's face, however, fell suddenly and tears began to slip down her cheeks. "Buffy used to make us all bacon and eggs after all-night research or demon hunting."

          Sighing, Spike took Willow in his arms and caressed her back until her sobs stilled. Chiding himself on such a stupid mistake Spike eased Willow's stiffened form and placed a gentle kiss on her brow. "Can I ask you something, red?"

          "Of course, Spike."

          Sitting back in his own chair Spike locked Willow in a scrutinizing gaze. "Why do you do it?"

          Paling, Willow swallowed and lowered her eyes from Spikes. "What do you mean?" She knew, however, exactly what he meant.

          "Don't play the idiot Wills," Spikes voice sharpened, "you're no good at it." But Willow didn't answer and Spike pressed, "Damnit Willow, answer me!"

          "No," she snapped drumming up what little strength she had left. "It's not any of your business."

          "None of my business?" Spike repeated disbelievingly. "Red you're mutilating yourself and you have the audacity to say it's none of my business?"

          "That's right, Spike," Willow pushed herself to her feet and cast a cold stare at Spike. "What I do to my own body is no one's business but my own so just but out!"

          "I can't do that, pet," Spike's voice softened as he stepped closer to the redhead. "What happens to you does concern me because if anything happened to you – "

          "How do you do that?" Willow was close to tears again and forced herself to be still.

          "Do what?"

          "Make me feel like crying when I'm on the verge of punching you?"

          Spike chuckled and tucked a strand of Willow's hair behind her ear. "Just one of my many talents."

          Willow smiled. "I'm almost afraid to ask what the other's are."

          Grinning cockily Spike lowered his voice and said, "All you have to do is ask red."

          Blushing, Willow turned away and left to take a shower.