Willow has her wicked way…

Pairing: S/B, X/A, W/Fred

Timeline: Post Chosen

Do I like reviews? Does a dog eat your homework (okay... that made a lot more sense in my head, but you get the general gist)

Sorry I took so long to update. That old meany called RL came banging at my door and told me to get off my sodding arse and earn my rent. I tried to resist but what can I say? He's a hair-puller

PART 5

Spike eyed the dank wall that he leaned against, he really didn't know what had possessed him to hide down here - habit, he supposed. If in doubt, head for the basement. Looking at the exposed plumbing that dripped around him, he briefly thought about changing venues, but decided against it after a moments pause. This hellhole was as good a place as any to hide in, if he didn't wish to be found.

He hadn't been this at odds with himself since he'd first gotten himself the soul. He'd spent the last two hours arguing with himself, literally, about why the hell he was lurking down here in the basement when he could be upstairs basking in the slayer's new found ability to say she loved him. Nevertheless, try as he might, he couldn't quite shake the terror and confusion that suddenly had seemed to have taken up residence in his heart – sometimes free-will really was a bitch.

A lot of things were easier in the bad old days. 'Want, take, have,' had been the motto to live by, and Spike had practiced it with undisguised relish. He had wanted the slayer so he had gone about taking her, then having her, simple. Nowadays, however, he found himself worrying over little things like consequences. He found himself thinking not only about what he wanted but what Buffy wanted too.

And so, here he was, him and his 'little voice', having a heated discussion in the basement. There was a decided feeling of déjà vu to the whole thing. Of course, now he knew the correct term for describing this voice, it was called a conscience, and it went a little like this:

 "You can't possibly expect her to waste her life by being attached to a dead undead guy, it would be worse than that whole mess with Angel. At least he'd been able to hold her hand, touch her face, hold her when she was worried. What are you able to offer her?"

He really wished it would just bloody shut up, he had enough problems as it stood. With a snort, he pushed himself away from the wall. Time to face the music, he supposed. Cringing, he remembered the look on Buffy's face when he decided to pull his disappearing act. He was going to pay for that one – and pay, and pay, and pay. With a shrug, he decided to reintroduce himself to mess he'd left behind him. First, he would pay a visit on Fred, she wasn't the type for reproaches and she would fill him in on what had happened in the last few hours.

It was a decision he almost immediately regretted; no sooner had he floated up into her lab, than he was caught by the piercing glare of Kennedy.

"Oh, it's you again," she muttered. "Decided to grace us with your presence, did you?"

Rolling his eyes, he decided that the question was rhetorical and ignored it, peering over her shoulder; he noticed Willow huddled with Fred over a computer console. "So, what are they up to, then," he asked, trying sound casual as he strained to hear what they were talking about at the other end of the room.

"As if you don't know," snorted Kennedy. "Tell me, are they actually any evil entities out there that don't want to use you as its lap dog."

For the second time that day, Spike counted to ten. Eventually, he felt he could speak. "So I'm guessing that this has something to do with that Aelemus bloke, then."

"Are they any other Hell Gods out there that want to use you as sacrifice? If so, now would be a good time to speak up. Then again, I suppose you could just run away once more."

"Cranky love? What's the matter, thing's a bit awry in the love department?" he bit out. He had tried, honestly he had, but this woman was getting on his last nerve.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked defensively.

Spike eyed the cosy picture Fred and Willow were making at the other side of the room, and turned to look at Kennedy again with a smirk. All thoughts of landing the final blow disappeared, however, when he saw the hurt look in her eyes. "Nothing, luv, don't mind me," he sighed.

Kennedy flinched as the soft sound of Willow's laughter floated across the room, and Spike felt his heart go out to her despite himself. Loving someone you knew wasn't meant to be yours was an experience he was well acquainted with. Even after all these years, the way Dru had left him still stung, and Buffy? Well, the jury was still out on that one.

"Spike!"

Reluctantly, he looked over to the source of the cry. "'lo Fred, how are tricks?"

"Oh Spike," she said. "Thank goodness you're here, we have to work fast. Giles and Wesley have been pouring over the Book of Aelemus and it appears we don't have much time."

"Is that so, pet," Spike said dryly. "Perhaps you should tell me what exactly do you mean by that."

"Well, it seems that the reason they wish to use you as the sacrifice is because they need the distilled essence of a ensouled vampire…"

"…And, apparently, the original use of the amulet that you used to defeat the first was to do the distilling," continued Willow. " The destruction of the Hellmouth was just a happy side effect."

"Champion, my arse," Spike muttered under his breath.

"You know, this throws a whole new light on why Wolfram and Hart were so keen to help out," Fred said thoughtfully. "They probably thought that Angel would volunteer to wear it. They would have killed two birds with one stone, Angel would have been 'contained' and they also would've had what they needed to raise their hell god."

"They were right, he did volunteer," admitted Spike.

"He did?" asked a surprised Willow. "Then how did you end up wearing it?"

"It was Buffy's decision - and she decided," Spike told her shortly.

Willow wisely didn't comment on that. Fred, however, ploughed on regardless. "It really makes one wonder how genuine Wolfram and Hart's offer of this agency was. I mean, if they thought that Angel was due to die at the Hellmouth, they must have hoped to had this branch back in their control within the week."

Spike looked at her askance. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, luv. But if you've just figured out that these guys have an ulterior motive, you're a lot dumber than I took you for."

"Hey!" protested Willow, putting her hand on Fred's shoulder protectively. "Less of the attitude, mister!"

Disbelievingly, he glared at her. "Fred can speak for herself, luv, she and I have an understanding." It was obvious to Spike, though, that Willow had absolutely no understanding of what her body language was trumpeting at the top of it's voice. What was Willow thinking, acting like the offended lover? Didn't she see the hurt in her girlfriend's eyes?  It was then he had a flashback to that time he kidnapped her in order to create a love spell for Dru. If memory served him right, she had been up to some hanky panky that time too. Sometimes Willow acted dumber than she looked, too.

Oblivious to the rising tension in the room, Willow was rubbing Fred's back comfortingly. "All the same, it wasn't nice," she said worriedly.

Kennedy was a bristling ball of slayer outrage; Spike noted how she had already subconsciously risen onto the balls of her feet - classic attack mode. He realised, with a sinking feeling, that this could get out of hand fast; why couldn't Willow look up from her smitten haze and realise what she was doing? Fortunately, Fred had stopped sunning in Willows attention long enough to see that all was not well in the room. Giving Kennedy a guilty look, she nonchalantly stepped away from Willow's touch - at least, that's what she attempted to do. In reality, it looked more like a quick dash for the border.

"No, Spike is right," Fred said. "I already had my suspicions, it's just that this is the first piece of concrete evidence I've come across."

"Right then," Spike said gamely, he might as well help her smooth things over. "What was it you were going to tell me about Aelumus?"

"The ceremony is at Dawn and you're on the menu," said a grim voice from behind him.

"Slowly he turned to face her, inwardly grimacing as he noted the royally pissed off look on her face. "'lo, luv," he said quietly.

Buffy didn't even bother to look at him, directing her next words to Willow. "So… are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," the witch said with a nod.

"Ready for what?" Spike asked with a frown.  "Oy, what is going on here?"

"Listen Spike," Fred told him quietly. "I know you're not going to like this, but this hell god is really bad news. Not only is he incredibly powerful when he is in true form, he's also a lot easier to raise than we originally thought. We thought we were safe as long as we had the book we confiscated from Albert, but Giles has informed us that it is merely one of several copies."

"That means," broke in Willow. "That it's quite possible that there is another Wolfram and Hart employee out there with another copy, we've discussed it and have come to the decision that it is too dangerous to allow you to run around in your present state."

Spike looked at the determined expression on Willow's face and fear took root in his stomach. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"Just hold still, this won't hurt a bit," she said, sticking both of her hands into his chest.

"What the… just one minute, here," Spike protested. "What are you trying to do to me?"

"I said hold still!" Willow told him crossly. By this time, she was literally up to her elbows in his chest. Her eyes had fallen shut in concentration but, somehow, Spike knew that they were as black as midnight.

"I thought you'd sworn off this kind of thing, Red," he said reproachfully. "Messing around with other people's innards, and all."

Willow opened one obsidian eye. "I'm nearly done," she replied softly, pulling her hands out slowly.

"Done what, exactly?" Spike asked crossly.

"Why, fixed your little problem, of course!" she said cheerfully, patting him on the cheek.

Spike's eyes widened in shock, his hand flying up to his face as he touched his nose gingerly.

"Told you," Willow said smugly.

Wonder filled him as his old senses came flooding back through his body. He could smell again! Cautiously, he sniffed the air and was instantly greeted by all the tiny scents and smells that wafted around the room – so that is what Fred smelled like…peaches and cream… very tasty. Pervading it all, though, was the heady scent of the slayer. Funny that, Kennedy's scent didn't come over half as strong, maybe a slayer's scent got better with age. There was something else, though, something extra hiding in her scent today. Catching her eye, he smirked knowingly.

"Nice perfume you have, Slayer."

He always did like it when she blushed!

TBC…