Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Fox, and Twentieth Century and whoever else has rights to it. I don't, more's the pity, but they do. No money is being made by me on this.
Author's Note: This starts after season 5... and is rather AU. It has spoilers for basically all of season 4 and some of 5. I'm a Spike/Willow 'shipper, and this story is W/S. Also, this is a work in progress. I've been working on it for nearly two years now, and it's still not done, but I'm getting there. It's very long, and involed. Please hang in there, and don't give up on me if I don't update regularly. Reviews would be most welcome.
Another Note: If you read this when I first posted it, you'll need to read it again to understand some of it. I've added a lot to previously posted chapters, and I couldn't begin to tell you which ones have new stuff, and which ones don't. Sorry.
Dedicated: To my beta, Claudia, you rock! You all should thank her for getting more of this story.
PART 6
(February 2000)
Spike sat on the watcher's couch, his feet in front of him as usual, legs crossed and eyes fixed on Willow. A week had passed since his Willow had left, and he'd found himself visiting Giles' more and more, hoping to see her.
Since he'd previously expressed his dislike, distrust and disgust of the group, his suddenly showing up almost every night was a little suspicious. He didn't care about that.
It was Willow's fear of him that he didn't like. He didn't want her to be afraid of him. Sure, he'd enjoyed it at first. But night after night he came to the ex-watcher's house and night after night she regarded him with fear. It actually seemed to be growing. He couldn't understand it.
He sighed heavily, dropping his feet to the floor. All eyes turned to him, and he glared at each one in turn.
"Spike, could I speak with you in the kitchen for a moment?" Giles asked politely, though his tone and glare were anything but. Spike shrugged and followed the man into the tiny room.
"Yeah?" he asked belligerently.
Giles regarded him steadily, his gaze never wavering. "What is it that you want? We're all tired of waiting around for the other shoe to drop, so just spill it."
Spike shook his head in confusion. "Don't know what you're talking about, Rupert. I'm here to help. Uh, fight the forces of evil, and all that." He sounded pretty unconvincing and he knew it.
Giles crossed his arms over his chest and managed to look pretty menacing. "You hurt anyone here, Spike, I won't wait for Buffy to go after you. I'll kill you myself."
Spike believed him. There was something rather... evil about him just then. This, Spike knew, was Ripper shining through. He nodded his acknowledgment. "Got it." He attempted to move by Giles and go back to watching Willow, but Giles grabbed him by his duster, yanking him back against the counter. Out of sight of the others.
"This is not a game, Spike. Do not doubt that I will kill you."
Spike fought the urge to fight back. Something he had to do more often than he liked. He hated this. He hated them. Willow was the only one he wanted to be around, and even that was unsatisfying. But it was better than nothing. He brushed Giles' hands away and straightened up. "I said, got it," he ground out, shoving past the ex-watcher. He tossed a quick glance at Willow on his way to the door, and found her watching him. He smirked at her, and she quickly looked away.
He slammed the door behind him with a growl, and headed for the cemetery. He needed to kill something. Then he would get a few glasses of blood from Willy's. What he wanted more than anything though, was Willow in his bed. He was obsessed. One taste hadn't been enough. He'd known it then, and he definitely knew it now.
He had another few hours until Jonathon's World took over, so he decided to have a little fun. He veered off to the right, changing directions.
The college campus was full of students walking this way and that, but he paid them no mind. He was looking for one student in particular. A blonde one. He stood outside her window, knowing she'd see him soon enough. Sure enough, not five minutes later, she looked out her window. He could see her fear even as far away as he was. He lit a cigarette and waited. Watched.
Half an hour later, Willow showed up, hurrying across the campus toward her dorm. Spike smelled her before he saw her. She had a distinctive scent. It was all Willow. She didn't use perfumes or scented soap, and it turned him on more than any perfume he'd ever smelled.
Before he realized what he was doing, he stepped in front of her, halting her progress along the sidewalk. She bumped into him, falling on her butt on the ground. Spike chuckled at her.
She glared up at him and got to her feet. "Spike." There was exasperation in her voice, and annoyance. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be lurking... elsewhere?"
His eyes roamed over her from head to toe, drinking her in. She licked her lips nervously, fidgeting under his perusal.
He sighed. "Not doing a thing, Red. Just out for a walk." He tossed a glance behind him, knowing the witch was still watching them, and stepped closer to Willow, taking her elbow. Looked like an intimate little conversation from Tara's point of view. He walked her to her door, leaned close and whispered, "Don't you know it's not safe out here, Red?"
She pulled back, but by now they were out of sight of the blonde witch. "You're starting to get creepy." She spun on her heel and darted inside, taking the stairs two at a time.
Spike watched her until she was out of sight, then headed back to his tree. Tara was still looking out her window. He tossed his cigarette to the ground and left. Willow would be there a while, he knew, and things were about to get interesting.
(September 2001)
Willow pushed herself into a sitting position with her good arm. The other, in a sling, hung uselessly by her side. Willow felt better than she had in a while. One of the nurses had helped her shower earlier, and Tara had brought her a pair of flannel pajamas from home. Her hair was brushed and clean and things felt almost normal.
Except she was in the hospital and almost all of her friends were dead.
Willow resolutely pushed those thoughts away and focused on the now. On the two people she had left in Sunnydale. Both Spike and Tara were there. Tara was sitting with her on the bed. Spike was standing across the room, almost hidden in shadows. He looked uncomfortable, so she took pity on him.
"You don't have to stay, Spike. I'll be fine. I am fine. Tara's here." She smiled at him, hoping he'd do his usual relieved sigh thing and hurry out, glad to be free. But he didn't, and she wasn't surprised. It had been a week since their friends died, and he'd been there with her every night. Tara came during the day, while he slept and avoided dying in the bright rays.
"Not like I have somewhere better to be." He leaned against the wall, and looked out the window, into the night. "Besides, I want to be here when... they get here. Anything to piss Angel off."
She rolled her eyes at him. "When are they coming? Do you know?"
He shrugged, trying to portray unconcern, but his shoulders were too stiff, his jaw clenched too tightly.
"Um, I think they should be here any minute," Tara said, smiling at Willow. "Cordelia said they were leaving just after sunset."
Willow nodded, looking away from her lover. Angel, Cordelia and Wesley were on their way. She didn't want them here. Somehow, if they came, it would make it all real. She didn't want it to be real.
Tara squeezed Willow's hand, tossed a quick look at Spike, and stood up. "I'm going to get some coffee. You want some?" They both shook their heads and she left the room quietly, giving them time alone to talk.
Willow watched Spike for a few minutes. His eyes were focused outside, but she knew that his attention was focused inward. His thoughts miles away. He sighed and turned his head, meeting her gaze. "Angel," he answered, before she could ask. He chuckled ruefully. "He's not gonna be happy to see me, so I should probably go."
"But you just said--"
"Changed my mind." He pushed away from the wall.
"Stay. Please. I-- I don't want them here," she confessed, feeling awful for saying it.
He dropped into the chair next to the bed. "Thought they were your friends and all that?"
She straightened her sling. Pulled the blanket a little higher. Smoothed it out. When she started to straighten her sling again, she felt his hand on hers and went still. "Sorry. I'm fidgety when I'm nervous." She stared down at his large, pale hand covering hers. Her hand turned, twining with his as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "They are my friends. At least, Angel is, or was. I haven't seen him in over a year, even before... " she'd almost said, 'even before the time period I went back to' And then she could've thrown in, 'before you and I slept together' just to make it complete. Great way to make him think she was delusional, unable to differentiate between dreams and reality.
"Before, um, Christmas," she added lamely. "And Cordelia and I? We talked a couple of times on the phone... I told her about Harmony." She laughed in remembrance. "Cordelia and Harmony were best friends in high school. Harmony went to visit her a few months ago, and," she giggled, "Cordelia thought she was coming on to her, because she told her she couldn't resist wanting her and there was this whole big thing, and... anyway, we never really were friends in a friendly sort of way. She sort of hated me." Willow grinned impudently. "I stole her boyfriend."
Spike laughed, looking more relaxed than she'd seen him all week. He rolled his eyes at her. "The moron doesn't count," he said, and then fell quiet when he realized what he'd said.
She fell quiet as well, forcing back tears. She had cried herself dry, or so she'd thought. "So Cordelia isn't exactly going to be nice, I'm sure. Be warned. And Wesley? Well, we never really even-- actually, I don't know him at all. He was Faith's Watcher, and I kind of hated Faith with a fiery passion. Coulda roasted marshmallows on it."
He grinned at her, and she had a sudden memory of the two of them in bed, talking about who they would and wouldn't want to sleep with. She shook herself mentally. They were dreams, not memories. She had to remember that, otherwise she'd never get through this.
"I'm just afraid... if they come here, it sort of makes it more real. They'll stay dead if Angel comes here. Sounds stupid, I know, but I can't help it."
He shook his head. "Doesn't sound stupid. Sounds human." His eyes fell to their clasped hands. He was examining them as if he'd never seen hands before. She squeezed his lightly. Tara came into the room a few seconds later, and Willow dropped his hand guiltily. Tara set her cup of coffee on the table beside the bed, and sat beside her girlfriend.
Willow glanced at Spike under her brows. He was watching the two of them oddly. He didn't notice her watching him, otherwise she was sure she never would've seen the envy and loneliness in his eyes.
"I think your friends are here," Tara said. "Is Angel real tall, dark hair, long black coat? 'Cause there's a guy out there like that with a woman with short dark hair with blonde streaks. And a smaller man with glasses, kinda nervous looking."
Spike snorted at her description. "That's them. Except the cheerleader. Last I saw, she had long hair. Real long."
"She cut it," a voice said from the doorway.
Both Tara and Spike jumped up, and backed away from Willow, giving the newcomers space to greet Willow.
Cordelia hooked a thumb over her shoulder. "Took them almost two weeks to notice it, and here you guys haven't even seen it and you notice it already." She stepped into the room, followed by Angel and Wesley.
"Willow. Are you okay?" Angel asked, concern etched into his face.
"Miss Rosenberg. Sorry about your loss." That was Wesley.
Cordelia hugged her awkwardly, and Willow caught Spike's rueful grin over Cordelia's shoulder. "I can't believe they're gone," Cordy whispered.
Willow nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Angel ignored Spike completely. He sat down in the chair Spike had vacated. "Are you all right?" he asked again.
"I'm fine. Tara and Spike are--"
"Oh, Tara, nice to meet you," Angel said, nodding toward the nervous blonde. Willow frowned. She looked from Angel's concerned face to Spike's blank one.
Cordy, standing next to Tara, shook her hand with a smile. Wesley did so as well, and her poor girlfriend was looking quite overwhelmed.
Willow turned back to Spike, but he was gone. The door swung silently shut behind him. She glared at Angel. Was a, 'hello, Spike' too much to ask for? Apparently so. Someone was tapping her shoulder, snapping her out of her thoughts. It was Tara, she had her jacket and coffee, ready to leave.
"Are you leaving?" Willow asked, feeling like everyone was abandoning her.
"Uh-huh. I think you guys need time alone. I'll be back tomorrow morning." She leaned over and kissed Willow softly. "G'night."
"Night," Willow whispered. Tara left the room and Willow turned her attention back to the trio from L.A., who all seemed to be trying to look anywhere but at her. She wondered if it was the gay thing, the long time apart thing, or the, 'all our friends are dead' thing. Willow fought an hysterical giggle, but she couldn't fight the tears.
(February 2000)
Spike was walking through the cemetery on his way home from Willy's when he heard voices behind him. It was Jonathan and his groupies. Willow was with them, but she and the others were hanging slightly back from Jonathan and Buffy. Spike had no real wish for a run-in with any of them, except Willow, but not now, with her surrounded by her friends. He slipped behind a bush and waited for them to pass him by.
Jonathan was lecturing Buffy on the habits of vampires, which, if she was the slayer, she should have known.
"Vampires only form nests to make hunting easier. They're not big on the cooperation. They mostly like to hang out all creepy and alone in the shadows. Don't you agree... Spike?"
Spike cursed silently and stepped out from behind the bush. "Well, well, the man himself."
"What are you doing here?" Jonathan asked, as he and Spike circled each other threateningly.
"I live here. I wasn't exactly pining for a noisy visit from Wonder Jonathan and His Fluffy Battle Kittens." This guy really bugged Spike for some reason. There was just something off about a guy who was so damn good at everything. Had to be a demon or something. Maybe a spell. No way was anyone this talented and lucky.
"Yeah?" Buffy joined in. "You think that one up with all the time you spend not being able to bite people?"
"Careful, he's still pretty dangerous," Jonathan warned her.
Spike's pride and self worth shot up about thirty points. "Yeah, back off Betty."
Buffy took offense at that and tried her hand at being witty. "It's Buffy, you big, bleached... stupid guy." She failed miserably.
And there was Jonathan, acting the big manly stud. "Spike you're the worst type of scum. The second you're back to your old tricks, well, let's just say, before you even sniff out your first victim, you'll be pretty indistinguishable from, oh, what should we say? Instant soup mix."
Spike rolled his eyes and with one last look at Willow, walked away. That bloody Jonathan guy was more annoying than the slayer ever had been. All knowing, all seeing. He thought he was hot stuff. And the fact that he was, rankled Spike more than anything.
Inside his crypt, Spike tossed his duster over the broken chair, got out the pile of papers Willow had left him, and sat down to read. First thing he saw was: Jonathan's World. He snorted and read on.
A few minutes later, he laughed aloud. He'd known it. It was a spell. And a demon was out there with all the geek boy's powers. This could be fun. Now that he knew, it was rather obvious. Nobody was that good at everything, and this Jonathan guy was just a geek with delusions of grandeur. Waiting to be taken down a peg or two.
Spike hid the papers back in the stone behind the wall, and lit a cigarette. Willow's notes were highly detailed, telling him pretty much where she was at all times when things went wrong, and the rest of the gang as well. He didn't care about the others. Just her.
She was at the witch's dorm by now. His jaw tightened. She spent all her spare time there, even stayed the night sometimes. She was growing closer and closer to the witch every day, and he hated it. Jealousy and envy were two emotions he'd never wanted to know intimately again. And yet, here he was dancing with them as if they were old friends.
He had two options. Leave Willow and Tara alone and let their relationship develop, or destroy it. At first he'd decided to leave them alone. He was confident enough to believe that she'd come to him once he got to her time period. But as time went by, it was becoming more and more difficult to do so. He wanted her. She was his. That blonde witch didn't deserve her. She was going to betray them. Almost get them all killed.
Bloody hell, why was he even considering leaving Willow to Tara? Since when had he become a selfless martyr? He wanted something, he usually went after it. So what was different now?
Not a bloody thing.
Besides, how could he avoid falling in love with the slayer if he didn't have someone else to focus on?
With that decided, Spike sat back and waited, an idea forming in his mind. He knew everything that was going to happen, thanks to Willow. He could play the hero. Get on everyone's good side. Get Willow on his side. Away from Tara. He grinned in anticipation.
Author's Note: This starts after season 5... and is rather AU. It has spoilers for basically all of season 4 and some of 5. I'm a Spike/Willow 'shipper, and this story is W/S. Also, this is a work in progress. I've been working on it for nearly two years now, and it's still not done, but I'm getting there. It's very long, and involed. Please hang in there, and don't give up on me if I don't update regularly. Reviews would be most welcome.
Another Note: If you read this when I first posted it, you'll need to read it again to understand some of it. I've added a lot to previously posted chapters, and I couldn't begin to tell you which ones have new stuff, and which ones don't. Sorry.
Dedicated: To my beta, Claudia, you rock! You all should thank her for getting more of this story.
PART 6
(February 2000)
Spike sat on the watcher's couch, his feet in front of him as usual, legs crossed and eyes fixed on Willow. A week had passed since his Willow had left, and he'd found himself visiting Giles' more and more, hoping to see her.
Since he'd previously expressed his dislike, distrust and disgust of the group, his suddenly showing up almost every night was a little suspicious. He didn't care about that.
It was Willow's fear of him that he didn't like. He didn't want her to be afraid of him. Sure, he'd enjoyed it at first. But night after night he came to the ex-watcher's house and night after night she regarded him with fear. It actually seemed to be growing. He couldn't understand it.
He sighed heavily, dropping his feet to the floor. All eyes turned to him, and he glared at each one in turn.
"Spike, could I speak with you in the kitchen for a moment?" Giles asked politely, though his tone and glare were anything but. Spike shrugged and followed the man into the tiny room.
"Yeah?" he asked belligerently.
Giles regarded him steadily, his gaze never wavering. "What is it that you want? We're all tired of waiting around for the other shoe to drop, so just spill it."
Spike shook his head in confusion. "Don't know what you're talking about, Rupert. I'm here to help. Uh, fight the forces of evil, and all that." He sounded pretty unconvincing and he knew it.
Giles crossed his arms over his chest and managed to look pretty menacing. "You hurt anyone here, Spike, I won't wait for Buffy to go after you. I'll kill you myself."
Spike believed him. There was something rather... evil about him just then. This, Spike knew, was Ripper shining through. He nodded his acknowledgment. "Got it." He attempted to move by Giles and go back to watching Willow, but Giles grabbed him by his duster, yanking him back against the counter. Out of sight of the others.
"This is not a game, Spike. Do not doubt that I will kill you."
Spike fought the urge to fight back. Something he had to do more often than he liked. He hated this. He hated them. Willow was the only one he wanted to be around, and even that was unsatisfying. But it was better than nothing. He brushed Giles' hands away and straightened up. "I said, got it," he ground out, shoving past the ex-watcher. He tossed a quick glance at Willow on his way to the door, and found her watching him. He smirked at her, and she quickly looked away.
He slammed the door behind him with a growl, and headed for the cemetery. He needed to kill something. Then he would get a few glasses of blood from Willy's. What he wanted more than anything though, was Willow in his bed. He was obsessed. One taste hadn't been enough. He'd known it then, and he definitely knew it now.
He had another few hours until Jonathon's World took over, so he decided to have a little fun. He veered off to the right, changing directions.
The college campus was full of students walking this way and that, but he paid them no mind. He was looking for one student in particular. A blonde one. He stood outside her window, knowing she'd see him soon enough. Sure enough, not five minutes later, she looked out her window. He could see her fear even as far away as he was. He lit a cigarette and waited. Watched.
Half an hour later, Willow showed up, hurrying across the campus toward her dorm. Spike smelled her before he saw her. She had a distinctive scent. It was all Willow. She didn't use perfumes or scented soap, and it turned him on more than any perfume he'd ever smelled.
Before he realized what he was doing, he stepped in front of her, halting her progress along the sidewalk. She bumped into him, falling on her butt on the ground. Spike chuckled at her.
She glared up at him and got to her feet. "Spike." There was exasperation in her voice, and annoyance. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be lurking... elsewhere?"
His eyes roamed over her from head to toe, drinking her in. She licked her lips nervously, fidgeting under his perusal.
He sighed. "Not doing a thing, Red. Just out for a walk." He tossed a glance behind him, knowing the witch was still watching them, and stepped closer to Willow, taking her elbow. Looked like an intimate little conversation from Tara's point of view. He walked her to her door, leaned close and whispered, "Don't you know it's not safe out here, Red?"
She pulled back, but by now they were out of sight of the blonde witch. "You're starting to get creepy." She spun on her heel and darted inside, taking the stairs two at a time.
Spike watched her until she was out of sight, then headed back to his tree. Tara was still looking out her window. He tossed his cigarette to the ground and left. Willow would be there a while, he knew, and things were about to get interesting.
(September 2001)
Willow pushed herself into a sitting position with her good arm. The other, in a sling, hung uselessly by her side. Willow felt better than she had in a while. One of the nurses had helped her shower earlier, and Tara had brought her a pair of flannel pajamas from home. Her hair was brushed and clean and things felt almost normal.
Except she was in the hospital and almost all of her friends were dead.
Willow resolutely pushed those thoughts away and focused on the now. On the two people she had left in Sunnydale. Both Spike and Tara were there. Tara was sitting with her on the bed. Spike was standing across the room, almost hidden in shadows. He looked uncomfortable, so she took pity on him.
"You don't have to stay, Spike. I'll be fine. I am fine. Tara's here." She smiled at him, hoping he'd do his usual relieved sigh thing and hurry out, glad to be free. But he didn't, and she wasn't surprised. It had been a week since their friends died, and he'd been there with her every night. Tara came during the day, while he slept and avoided dying in the bright rays.
"Not like I have somewhere better to be." He leaned against the wall, and looked out the window, into the night. "Besides, I want to be here when... they get here. Anything to piss Angel off."
She rolled her eyes at him. "When are they coming? Do you know?"
He shrugged, trying to portray unconcern, but his shoulders were too stiff, his jaw clenched too tightly.
"Um, I think they should be here any minute," Tara said, smiling at Willow. "Cordelia said they were leaving just after sunset."
Willow nodded, looking away from her lover. Angel, Cordelia and Wesley were on their way. She didn't want them here. Somehow, if they came, it would make it all real. She didn't want it to be real.
Tara squeezed Willow's hand, tossed a quick look at Spike, and stood up. "I'm going to get some coffee. You want some?" They both shook their heads and she left the room quietly, giving them time alone to talk.
Willow watched Spike for a few minutes. His eyes were focused outside, but she knew that his attention was focused inward. His thoughts miles away. He sighed and turned his head, meeting her gaze. "Angel," he answered, before she could ask. He chuckled ruefully. "He's not gonna be happy to see me, so I should probably go."
"But you just said--"
"Changed my mind." He pushed away from the wall.
"Stay. Please. I-- I don't want them here," she confessed, feeling awful for saying it.
He dropped into the chair next to the bed. "Thought they were your friends and all that?"
She straightened her sling. Pulled the blanket a little higher. Smoothed it out. When she started to straighten her sling again, she felt his hand on hers and went still. "Sorry. I'm fidgety when I'm nervous." She stared down at his large, pale hand covering hers. Her hand turned, twining with his as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "They are my friends. At least, Angel is, or was. I haven't seen him in over a year, even before... " she'd almost said, 'even before the time period I went back to' And then she could've thrown in, 'before you and I slept together' just to make it complete. Great way to make him think she was delusional, unable to differentiate between dreams and reality.
"Before, um, Christmas," she added lamely. "And Cordelia and I? We talked a couple of times on the phone... I told her about Harmony." She laughed in remembrance. "Cordelia and Harmony were best friends in high school. Harmony went to visit her a few months ago, and," she giggled, "Cordelia thought she was coming on to her, because she told her she couldn't resist wanting her and there was this whole big thing, and... anyway, we never really were friends in a friendly sort of way. She sort of hated me." Willow grinned impudently. "I stole her boyfriend."
Spike laughed, looking more relaxed than she'd seen him all week. He rolled his eyes at her. "The moron doesn't count," he said, and then fell quiet when he realized what he'd said.
She fell quiet as well, forcing back tears. She had cried herself dry, or so she'd thought. "So Cordelia isn't exactly going to be nice, I'm sure. Be warned. And Wesley? Well, we never really even-- actually, I don't know him at all. He was Faith's Watcher, and I kind of hated Faith with a fiery passion. Coulda roasted marshmallows on it."
He grinned at her, and she had a sudden memory of the two of them in bed, talking about who they would and wouldn't want to sleep with. She shook herself mentally. They were dreams, not memories. She had to remember that, otherwise she'd never get through this.
"I'm just afraid... if they come here, it sort of makes it more real. They'll stay dead if Angel comes here. Sounds stupid, I know, but I can't help it."
He shook his head. "Doesn't sound stupid. Sounds human." His eyes fell to their clasped hands. He was examining them as if he'd never seen hands before. She squeezed his lightly. Tara came into the room a few seconds later, and Willow dropped his hand guiltily. Tara set her cup of coffee on the table beside the bed, and sat beside her girlfriend.
Willow glanced at Spike under her brows. He was watching the two of them oddly. He didn't notice her watching him, otherwise she was sure she never would've seen the envy and loneliness in his eyes.
"I think your friends are here," Tara said. "Is Angel real tall, dark hair, long black coat? 'Cause there's a guy out there like that with a woman with short dark hair with blonde streaks. And a smaller man with glasses, kinda nervous looking."
Spike snorted at her description. "That's them. Except the cheerleader. Last I saw, she had long hair. Real long."
"She cut it," a voice said from the doorway.
Both Tara and Spike jumped up, and backed away from Willow, giving the newcomers space to greet Willow.
Cordelia hooked a thumb over her shoulder. "Took them almost two weeks to notice it, and here you guys haven't even seen it and you notice it already." She stepped into the room, followed by Angel and Wesley.
"Willow. Are you okay?" Angel asked, concern etched into his face.
"Miss Rosenberg. Sorry about your loss." That was Wesley.
Cordelia hugged her awkwardly, and Willow caught Spike's rueful grin over Cordelia's shoulder. "I can't believe they're gone," Cordy whispered.
Willow nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Angel ignored Spike completely. He sat down in the chair Spike had vacated. "Are you all right?" he asked again.
"I'm fine. Tara and Spike are--"
"Oh, Tara, nice to meet you," Angel said, nodding toward the nervous blonde. Willow frowned. She looked from Angel's concerned face to Spike's blank one.
Cordy, standing next to Tara, shook her hand with a smile. Wesley did so as well, and her poor girlfriend was looking quite overwhelmed.
Willow turned back to Spike, but he was gone. The door swung silently shut behind him. She glared at Angel. Was a, 'hello, Spike' too much to ask for? Apparently so. Someone was tapping her shoulder, snapping her out of her thoughts. It was Tara, she had her jacket and coffee, ready to leave.
"Are you leaving?" Willow asked, feeling like everyone was abandoning her.
"Uh-huh. I think you guys need time alone. I'll be back tomorrow morning." She leaned over and kissed Willow softly. "G'night."
"Night," Willow whispered. Tara left the room and Willow turned her attention back to the trio from L.A., who all seemed to be trying to look anywhere but at her. She wondered if it was the gay thing, the long time apart thing, or the, 'all our friends are dead' thing. Willow fought an hysterical giggle, but she couldn't fight the tears.
(February 2000)
Spike was walking through the cemetery on his way home from Willy's when he heard voices behind him. It was Jonathan and his groupies. Willow was with them, but she and the others were hanging slightly back from Jonathan and Buffy. Spike had no real wish for a run-in with any of them, except Willow, but not now, with her surrounded by her friends. He slipped behind a bush and waited for them to pass him by.
Jonathan was lecturing Buffy on the habits of vampires, which, if she was the slayer, she should have known.
"Vampires only form nests to make hunting easier. They're not big on the cooperation. They mostly like to hang out all creepy and alone in the shadows. Don't you agree... Spike?"
Spike cursed silently and stepped out from behind the bush. "Well, well, the man himself."
"What are you doing here?" Jonathan asked, as he and Spike circled each other threateningly.
"I live here. I wasn't exactly pining for a noisy visit from Wonder Jonathan and His Fluffy Battle Kittens." This guy really bugged Spike for some reason. There was just something off about a guy who was so damn good at everything. Had to be a demon or something. Maybe a spell. No way was anyone this talented and lucky.
"Yeah?" Buffy joined in. "You think that one up with all the time you spend not being able to bite people?"
"Careful, he's still pretty dangerous," Jonathan warned her.
Spike's pride and self worth shot up about thirty points. "Yeah, back off Betty."
Buffy took offense at that and tried her hand at being witty. "It's Buffy, you big, bleached... stupid guy." She failed miserably.
And there was Jonathan, acting the big manly stud. "Spike you're the worst type of scum. The second you're back to your old tricks, well, let's just say, before you even sniff out your first victim, you'll be pretty indistinguishable from, oh, what should we say? Instant soup mix."
Spike rolled his eyes and with one last look at Willow, walked away. That bloody Jonathan guy was more annoying than the slayer ever had been. All knowing, all seeing. He thought he was hot stuff. And the fact that he was, rankled Spike more than anything.
Inside his crypt, Spike tossed his duster over the broken chair, got out the pile of papers Willow had left him, and sat down to read. First thing he saw was: Jonathan's World. He snorted and read on.
A few minutes later, he laughed aloud. He'd known it. It was a spell. And a demon was out there with all the geek boy's powers. This could be fun. Now that he knew, it was rather obvious. Nobody was that good at everything, and this Jonathan guy was just a geek with delusions of grandeur. Waiting to be taken down a peg or two.
Spike hid the papers back in the stone behind the wall, and lit a cigarette. Willow's notes were highly detailed, telling him pretty much where she was at all times when things went wrong, and the rest of the gang as well. He didn't care about the others. Just her.
She was at the witch's dorm by now. His jaw tightened. She spent all her spare time there, even stayed the night sometimes. She was growing closer and closer to the witch every day, and he hated it. Jealousy and envy were two emotions he'd never wanted to know intimately again. And yet, here he was dancing with them as if they were old friends.
He had two options. Leave Willow and Tara alone and let their relationship develop, or destroy it. At first he'd decided to leave them alone. He was confident enough to believe that she'd come to him once he got to her time period. But as time went by, it was becoming more and more difficult to do so. He wanted her. She was his. That blonde witch didn't deserve her. She was going to betray them. Almost get them all killed.
Bloody hell, why was he even considering leaving Willow to Tara? Since when had he become a selfless martyr? He wanted something, he usually went after it. So what was different now?
Not a bloody thing.
Besides, how could he avoid falling in love with the slayer if he didn't have someone else to focus on?
With that decided, Spike sat back and waited, an idea forming in his mind. He knew everything that was going to happen, thanks to Willow. He could play the hero. Get on everyone's good side. Get Willow on his side. Away from Tara. He grinned in anticipation.
