Title: Roses
Summary: Spike gets a little present from an unlikely source.
Archive: Want it?
Disclaimer: Evil spawn of the devil, a.k.a. B/A hater Joss Whedon owns all.
Comments: I am so happy that Angel is going to be back. Of course, he brings too many ppl in the finale, as in Faith, Oz, Kate, and a grip of others, but I've already said too much. Anyways, I know Joss is going to disappoint me, and there won't be any shippiness, but a girl can always dream, can't she? Let me have my fun, goddamn you!
Dedication: To my sister, for making me continue. Thanks babes! (All S/W shippers have her to thank for this little story being posted.)
Feedback: kimmie@quincymail.com





Willow slid the door back quietly, slipping inside, looking around guiltily. It was late at night, so he wouldn't be there, but Will was nervous, and half expecting his blonde head to pop out at her, making accusations.
Satisfied the crypt was empty; Willow set the white rose, half-closed on the table by the couch. She stood there for a minute, picturing his face. He'd probably think Buffy left it, but at least Spike would be happy for a moment.

@----- *** @----- *** @-----

Spike shut the door with a slam, drunkenly stumbling to his couch. He fumbled with the remote for a minute, before giving up and throwing the device as far as possible, managing to chuck it about two feet from his current position.
He rolled over, squinting at the white blur, almost completely bloomed. He reached for it, missing a few times. Finally, Spike's fingers curled around the stem, and he brought the white rose to his face. He drifted off, thinking about white flowers and a certain redheaded Wicca.

@----- *** @----- *** @-----

Spike entered the dorm, looking about for her roommate. No one else seemed to be in the room, so he crept easily to her bedside, trailing one arm behind, leaving a path of petals from the door to her bed. When he reached her, Spike looked down at Willow for a moment, so peaceful in sleep. Her red hair was fanned out on the pillow, and she stirred restlessly. Her thin blanket was strewn to one side. Spike smiled, and looked again to make sure they were alone. He pulled the blanket back up to her shoulders, and placed the crimson rose on the blanket. Spike slowly left the dorm, thoughts on a sweet, innocent redhead, all past grievances of a blonde slayer forgotten.

@----- *** @----- *** @-----

Willow turned off her alarm, muttering complaints under her breath. She sat up and groggily rubbed her tired eyes. She spotted the rose after minutes of blinking sleepily, and held it up, wondering. "It couldn't be. How did he know?" Buffy's head popped in the door, and Willow dropped the rose into her lap, smiling guiltily.
"Ooh. Someone has a secret admirer! Does Tara know about this?" Buffy picked up a pink rose petal, one of the many trailing along the carpet.
"I don't even know." Willow was surprised at how easily she lied to her best friend, but she had a feeling Buffy would never understand.

@----- *** @----- *** @-----

Tara's eyes filled as she looked unbelievingly at Willow. "Are you breaking up with me?" Willow looked at her sadly.
"I think so. I'm sorry, Tara, it's just, I kind-of figured something out yesterday, and it wouldn't be fair..." Tara nodded unhappily.
"I understand. I guess this is goodbye." Tara hugged Willow, and the girl watched her leave forever.
Willow bit her lip. 'Did I do the right thing?' She decided a walk would help her calm down. Her legs brought her to the crypt. Before Willow knew what she was doing, and more importantly, before her brain could refuse, she opened the door and looked about. Spike was out like she had expected, but Willow was going to wait this time.
By the time Spike came back from his nightly prowling, Willow was asleep, curled up on his couch. His lips curled into a smile, and he lifted her still form from the couch to his bed, took off his shoes, socks, and shirt, and climbed in after her.
Willow turned, and opened her eyes the smallest fraction. "Where am I?" She whispered to the form next to her.
"A bed." Spike groaned. "Go back to sleep." Willow nodded sleepily, and curled up closer to Spike.
He smiled, even half asleep, and wrapped his arms around her small waist, his lips in her hair.

@----- *** @----- *** @-----

Willow stirred. No sunlight had beamed onto her pillow to wake her, and she felt a little disoriented. She sat up and yawned, jumping as she noticed she was in the crypt. More precisely, she was in Spike's crypt, in his bed. Willow looked down at him, and was about to wake him and ask what had happened, when he burrowed further into the pillow, smiling and muttering about a rose. Willow lay back down, pulled the covers up, and snuggled into Spike's cool embrace. 'Screw school! I happen to be in the arms of a very hot vampire.' Willow grinned as she fell back into sleep.

@----- *** @----- *** @-----

Buffy glared at Anya, who cuddled against Xander sleepily. It was late. Late at night, and she was in one of her moods. She wanted to cuddle with someone, too. It was so unfair. Buffy drew her knees up to her on the chair, and tapped her fingers against the arm of the sofa impatiently. The door opened, and an unkempt Willow hurried in, wearing the clothes she'd had on last night, a duffel flung over her shoulder. "Eew much, Will. What were you thinking this morning?" Buffy griped, surveying the wrinkled outfit.
"Um, I wore this yesterday? Oh, yes. I must've whoops." Willow blushed, and set her bag down.
"What is that?" Buffy frowned at the bag.
"It's clothes. Stuff from my dorm. I'm moving out, cause Tara and I broke up. Don't ask, long story. Anyway, I need clothes at the new place, so yeah. I wanted to just tell you I was ok. See, I was feeling a little sick this morning, so I stayed in bed." Willow faked a little cough for good measure, and grinned weakly.
"Breathe, Willow." Xander told her, still looking at Anya with sticky sweet sappiness.
"I'll try to remember that, Xand." Willow muttered sarcastically. "Well, I'm going to go home to bed. I really don't feel very well still." Giles nodded, and wished her good night, nose stuck in an old book or another.
"Wait. Were are you living?" Buffy asked, sighing hugely and strecthing her toes to the end of the couch.
Willow tried to come up with a good excuse for not answering, but Buffy turned toward her. Suddenly, the thought of Buffy, completely in patrol outfit attacking her didn't seem to appealing. "At my house. Well, see you all tomorrow." Will took a deep breath after she finally left the shop.
Spike was only visible by the ember glowing on his lit cigarette. "Did you get it over with?" Willow smiled lightly at him.
"Not exactly. I kind-of chickened out at the first minute." Spike snuffed out the butt and cornered Willow on a tree, placing on of his hands on either side of her.
"What are you-" Spike kissed her, leaning down and capturing her face with his hands.
Willow felt her breath stop, and responded, losing all coherent thought. She didn't hear the door to the magic shop swing open. Spike groaned, and fell, an arrow lodged firmly in his ribcage. "Spike!" Willow cried, kneeling beside him.

@----- *** @----- *** @-----

"What are you doing, Willow?" Buffy's voice was low and dangerous, and she stood on the pavement, crossbow held before her, the rest of the gang behind her.
"What do you think you're doing? He wasn't hurting anything!" Willow rubbed his cheek with her hand, and whispered comforting things to him as he shifted in pain.
"I thought he was attacking you." Willow glared at her friend.
"Did it look like he was attacking me? Can you please leave me alone? I don't need you're help." She aided the injured vampire to his feet, and began shuffling away.
Buffy stared coldly at her, letting the crossbow drop to her side. "How can she? He'd kill her in a second if it wasn't for that chip." Xander snorted.
"Just like you and Angel, right? He'd have killed you in a minute if it weren't for that soul. And if you ask me, the soul is the easier of the two to loose." He led Anya beck inside.
Giles stared after Willow and Spike for a moment, trying to form the right words. "It was different," Buffy began quietly. "Angel wasn't evil."
"In a sense, Spike is no longer evil as well. I suppose that is the fact allowing Willow to-" Giles cleared his throat, "behave this way."
"Small comfort, Giles." Buffy looked her last at the retreating couple, and turned away into the shop.
"Indeed." Giles said to himself, shutting the door and turning the "Open" sign to the other side.

@----- *** @----- *** @-----

"Sorry." Willow sniffed, throwing the arrow pieces into the fire.
"Not your fault." Spike gritted his teeth against the pain, and looked down at the wound. "Is it a little better yet?" He asked, wincing.
"It doesn't feel better." Willow bandaged it up tightly.
"No. Maybe you need- uh, food." Spike nodded toward the fridge.
Willow tossed him a bag and settled back against the couch, staring at the fire. "I can't believe she doesn't understand. How can she not, of all people?" Spike ripped open the bag, and gulped quickly, trying to save Willow the distaste she must be feeling.
"She thinks it's an entire different situation. Peaches has a soul, I've got a little bloody piece of metal. She'll never understand, because he's her you know, bloody little wanker, and always will be. I'm just another plague upon the earth." Willow shook her head.
"But it's the same thing, I mean, it's not like he asked for his, or something. It was a curse, for God sake. He is good now, and so are you. Besides, it's easier to loose a soul." Spike laughed.
"Much easier." Spike added as an afterthought, "Not for lack of trying, though." Willow looked at him quickly.
"You still want to be evil?" Spike thought for a moment.
"Red, it is what I am. I'm a demon with a shock collar on. Without the pain, I'd be-" Willow's tight-lipped expression and pale face stopped him for continuing.
"But as far as I can tell, I'm going to be stuck with this damn thing for the rest of my unlife, so why not enjoy it?" Willow smiled brightly.
"I guess you're right." She climbed, rather clumsily, into his lap, and all thoughts of chips and arrows were forgotten.

THE END... OR IS IT?