Disclaimer: See chapter 1, 6, 11, or 16.
PART 17
(November 2001)
Willow woke up to someone slapping her face. She looked up... at the stars? The dream that had seemed so real, was rapidly disappearing in her panic. She sat up, looking around her. She was in a cemetery, and that was Spike's hand doing the slapping.
"What am I doing sleeping in a cemetery?"
Spike laughed humorlessly. "Sleeping? You were knocked out by a demon. Remember? Big? Dark blue with gold symbols all over it?"
Willow sat up with a frown, feeling lost. There it was again, that loss of control. She really didn't like that. "Um, when? Last I remember we were--" Oh, no you don't. Let him tell you the last thing that happened. Obviously it had all just been a dream. A very pleasant dream, but a dream nonetheless. "Um, what were we doing?"
Spike sat on a headstone and regarded her curiously. "You don't remember?"
"Sure. I remember we-- um, *you* fought a couple of vampires, and then we were talking about the next slayer being called. Right?"
Spike nodded slowly. "Yeah. That all happened."
Standing was a little more difficult than sitting up had been. She swayed a little, feeling like she hadn't slept in a week. A yawn escaped her and she had to force her eyes open. "Um, then you heard a noise, and went to look, but there was nothing there."
"Wrong."
Her eyes flew to his. So it *had* been just a dream. Of course it was. Spike... her Spike, would never kiss her, at least not while she was fully awake. Never tell her he wanted her. That he loved her. Her heart suddenly felt tight in her chest, and she was having trouble breathing. She sat back down, drawing in air. "So, what did happen?"
"Never mind that," he told her, striding over to her and pulling her up. "Let's go." He put his arm around her shoulders, and steered her toward the cemetery entrance.
Again with the arm. Willow shrugged out from under him and backed away a few feet. "What are you doing? What happened?" She hadn't lost her memory again, had she? She took a deep breath and faced him, hoping to put her mind at ease. "Did it happen again? The spell backfire?"
He rolled his eyes impatiently. "It doesn't matter. Let's just go home... " He ran his eyes over her seductively. "Where I can shag you in private."
"Shag?" she yelped. "What? Why?" What was going on here? She was so confused.
He was watching her intently, his eyes flashing with hunger as he closed the distance between them. He took her hand and pressed it against his erection. "If you don't know why," he whispered huskily, "then maybe you need a reminder."
Completely freaked out by him, she yanked her hand away. "Stop it. What's the matter with you?" She stomped away from him. "Gotta be dreaming again," she mumbled.
(November 2001)
Spike didn't know what to do. Willow was still out. It'd been two hours since the demon had attacked her. Two hours since he'd returned from checking out the noise and found her unconscious on the grass, a big blue demon with gold symbols on it, standing over her. The demon, in the process of picking Willow up, had dropped her and run when Spike attacked him. Spike had then carried her to the magick shop, and broken in the back door. Things went a little more smoothly this time than when he broke in with Dawn.
He threw another book on the table, his frustration mounting with every passing minute. The answer had to be here somewhere, in one of these blasted books. But he hadn't found anything yet, except his helplessness. Not even knowing how to go about finding the bloody demon, Spike cursed himself for not having paid more attention during their research sessions. Maybe then he'd know which books contained the demon he needed. Finding the reversal spell for the emotional control screw-up was easier than this.
At least Willow's life hadn't been in immediate danger.
As if hearing his thoughts, she moaned and whimpered, obviously in the throes of a nightmare. He swept the books to the floor in one clean sweep, wishing that at least one of their friends had survived the massacre-- Tara. Tara was alive, and damn if she wasn't a witch! Spike could have smacked himself for not remembering her earlier. He hoped it wasn't too late.
Halfway out the door, he stopped. He couldn't leave Willow alone here, not in the condition she was in. Giles had to have the witch's number here somewhere. He went around the counter and searched for a phone book, anything with phone numbers. He found it almost immediately. Dialing the girl's number, he swallowed his distaste for her and told her what had happened, and asked her to come to the Magic Box.
Willow whimpered again and Spike sat down beside her. Her hair was plastered to her face with sweat, her skin was flushed, and a frown had formed on her brow. Smoothing her hair back, he was surprised to feel cool flesh instead of heated. He'd thought she was feverish. She shuddered at his touch and pulled away from him with a moan. He felt inexplicably hurt by her actions... as if she knew it was him, and was rejecting him.
He took her hand, partially to comfort her and partially to reassure himself that she wasn't rejecting him, just her dream phantoms. She didn't pull away this time, but snuggled closer to him with a sigh.
This was the first time he'd truly been able to touch her since their conversation in his crypt. Since the night she'd kept silent after his declaration of... love? No. He hadn't declared his love for her, he'd vowed never to do that again after Buffy. He had piss-poor luck when it came to love, didn't he? Fell in love too easily, and with the wrong women. Why was he plagued with these feelings so much?
He blamed it all on that blasted poet he'd been before getting turned. Damned sensitive wanker, if he hadn't been such a pansy, Spike wouldn't feel every little thing as deeply as he did. He'd go through life with little regard for others, killing, maiming, torturing... ah, good times. But, no, that couldn't be his simple life. He had to feel and want and hunger and need.
Feel and want and hunger and need to have his love returned. Buffy'd been the worst. She'd broken his heart just as badly as Dru and Cecily. Maybe more. And now Willow? Yeah, he'd definitely fallen in love with her sometime in the past few months. Maybe even before that.
There'd definitely been some ogling going on when he first got chipped. At their research sessions, he'd cheerfully looked up Buffy's skirts, admired Willow's rear when she bent over in view of him, saw through a couple of her shirts... and when Willow was dying inside from the wolf's loss, he'd noticed. Probably only because he'd so recently felt the same, but it could've been more than that, couldn't it?
He'd certainly always found her attractive. Smoothing her hair away from her face with a sigh, he shifted slightly, rearranging her on his lap.
Truth was, he'd told Willow more than he'd ever intended to, more than he should have. That was obvious now.
What had he been thinking when he told her she was the 'more' he was searching for? Bloody hell, had to be the leftover bits of his human, poetic mind interfering, screwing things up for him.
She hadn't even responded to the declaration. She'd stopped walking, and he could hear her heartbeat speed up, and he'd been so hopeful, thinking maybe she felt something close to what he felt for her. He'd left the decision entirely up to her.
When she finally ran to catch up with him, his heart had tried to start beating.
When she remained silent, his heart did the same.
Well now, he thought, aren't you just the poetic ponce?
Even still, he'd been able to justify her lack of response to himself. Maybe she was afraid of his feelings for her, or her feelings for him, or both. And she'd only just broken up with Tara recently. Plus she had that fling with William. He'd ignored the thought that that should make her want *him* too. Maybe she didn't like what he'd become. Maybe she liked the danger of being with William.
Sure were a lot of maybes.
He traced his hand down her face, and leaned down to kiss her lips lightly. She moaned again, still in distress, locked in another nightmare.
He'd told Willow that she was everything he was looking for, everything he'd been lacking, and he'd meant it. She satisfied every part of him. His heart, his mind, his body, his sense of humor, his... everything.
And now, because he couldn't keep his mouth shut, there was an unspoken rule between them; no talking about that night, no talking about their feelings, and no touching. Tonight, he'd broken that rule. And look what'd happened. Well that changes. As soon as she woke up, he was telling her exactly how he felt, and giving her an ultimatum. If she didn't feel the same way, or wasn't amenable to a relationship with him, he'd leave town.
Leave Sunnydale behind once and for all. That decided, he sat back more comfortably, and kissed Willow's forehead as he waited for her ex to get there.
Tara finally arrived twenty minutes later, rushing through the door in a panic, her hair flying all around her, books falling to the floor. Not seeming to notice the books, she left them where they were and ran to Willow. Spike stepped back, giving the girl room, though what he really wanted to do was pull her away from Willow. He'd still been holding Willow, just enjoying actually being able to do that when he heard Tara coming. Setting her down had been one of the hardest things he'd had to do in a while, but he'd done it, and stood away, moving slightly away from her.
"What happened?" Tara asked, running her hands over Willow, checking for injuries.
Not liking the familiar way she touched Willow, Spike spoke more harshly than he intended. "She doesn't have any wounds. She's... asleep, as far as I can tell. Heart rates normal. So's her breathing."
She only then seemed to *really* notice him there. Her eyes flickered from Willow to him, and he was surprised to see a healthy dose of dislike in her gaze before she looked away again. "Asleep? Is it a sleep spell? Did someone do that? A sleep spell, I mean." She rolled her eyes at herself, her stumbling questions completely ruining the in charge effect she was striving for.
Spike almost felt sorry for her... but, no, he really didn't. "A demon. Big blue thing with gold... lettering or symbols or something on his arms and face." He wondered, as he studied her, why she and Willow had broken up. All he knew was that they had, but he suspected William factored in there somehow. Did Tara know Willow had slept with his younger self?
Her eyes suddenly went wide. "Are you sure they were gold? Th-- they weren't silver?"
Spike had to clench his fists to keep from snapping at her. "I'm sure. Why?"
Tara wasn't paying attention to him any longer. She'd rushed over to her forgotten books and was sorting through them. Or throwing them, rather. Finally, she grabbed a small, thin, bright red book, and brought it to the table to read.
Spike waited impatiently until she found what she was looking for, then even more impatiently when she didn't tell him anything. "Well?" he snapped.
She looked up from the book, her eyes falling on Willow. "She's been claimed by a Dream Djin." Her voice shook slightly.
"Great," he said in relief, "now that we know what it is, how do I kill it? How do we wake her up?" This he could do, take action. It was the sitting around and reading part that got to him, frustrated him. He raised a questioning brow at her when she remained silent. "Witch?"
She shook her head slowly. "We don't. She has to wake herself up. She has to figure it out, and make herself wake up."
Was that despair lacing her voice? He thought it just might be. Confusion settled over him. "How's she supposed to do that?"
"I don't know if she can."
And once again, there went his heart trying to beat in his chest.
(November 2001)
Willow stared at the vampire before her, wondering if she'd lost her mind, because she couldn't have heard him right. "You love me?" Something about this scene felt familiar to her, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She and Spike were patrolling, looking for a blue demon with gold sigils on it, but the cemetery seemed rather dead. Not of the vampire kind, just the buried in the ground kind. Then suddenly, from out of nowhere, Spike grabbed her hand and proclaimed his love for her.
And now he was nodding, a seductive smile turning up his lips as his eyes roamed over her. "With all my heart." He pulled her closer, cradling her face in his hands. "I want to be with you forever." He kissed her lips lightly, and wrapped his arms around her. "Always." His lips brushed against her neck.
Willow pulled back, a bit afraid of him. She saw the golden glow of his eyes and her own widened. She took a few very large steps back, watching him warily. She chuckled nervously. "But, not in a vampire way? Right?"
His face vamped out in answer and he stalked toward her. "It's the only way we can be together forever," he said reasonably.
Willow held her hand out to halt his progress. "But. You said you loved me," she yelled in a panic.
He stopped and grinned. "I did," he agreed.
"Then, um, if you kill me, and-- and turn me, the part you love about me will be gone. Forever. My soul?" she said sadly, "kaput."
Spike shrugged and grabbed her by the shoulders. "It's not your soul I love," he whispered, biting into her neck.
Willow screamed and shoved him away. This was just another nightmare. It had to be. She needed to wake up, that's all. She turned to run and fell flat on her face. She moaned and climbed hastily to her feet... in the Magic Box?
"Huh? How did I get here?" She blinked a few times, feeling exhausted. Oh, right, she'd fallen asleep here. She glanced around, looking for the others, sure that they'd all been there, researching some kind of funky blue demon with gold things on it.
But now, Spike was the only one there. The shop was dark aside from a few candles on the table. She carefully approached Spike, who was curled up on the big chair, with his back to her. She shook his shoulder lightly. "Spike."
He groaned and stretched a bit, rolling over with a yawn. "Red?" His eyes widened and he sat up quickly. "Willow." He stood up and pulled her with him to the other side of the room.
She watched him warily, wondering what he was up to. "Spike? What are you doing? What's--" and then she saw it. Her. Saw her. "Tara?" Tara was just getting up from the chair Spike had been asleep in. All she had on was her blouse, which barely reached the tops of her thighs.
"Willow." She bit her lip nervously and her eyes shot to Spike's.
Willow yanked her arm out of Spike's grip and turned to him, accusation plain on her face. "You slept with her?" She turned back to Tara, hurt and pain ripping through her. "Tara, how... oh, God," she whispered. She backed away from the two of them, wanting to be as far away as possible.
Tara went to Spike, putting her arm around his waist and leaning into him. Spike wrapped his arm around Tara's shoulders, smirking at Willow. "Sorry, Red, you've been replaced. You served your purpose; I never fell for Buffy. But now your usefulness has ended."
"Willow, I really did love you. Really," Tara said with a giggle, unable to keep a straight face. Spike's chuckles joined Tara's and turned into hysterical laughter. At Willow's expense.
Willow turned and ran, feeling like she'd stumbled into a nightmare dreamscape. This one was worse than the last one. At least then it had only been Spike betraying her, not William and Tara. She ran through the darkened streets to her house, shoved open her front door, and almost knocked down a startled Spike.
"Willow? What happened?" He reached out to steady her, but she jerked away.
"Don't touch me." She walked stiffly past him, upstairs to her room. He followed her, leaning against the doorjamb as she collapsed on her bed with a sob. "Go away," she whispered miserably.
He pushed away from the wall and knelt down beside her. "What is it, Willow?" His hand smoothed down her back, calming her somewhat.
This was Spike, not William. This Spike hadn't betrayed her with Tara. Okay, so Willow had betrayed Tara first, but not with someone who hated her. Oh, wait. Yes, she had. She sniffled and lifted her head to look at Spike. "William and Tara slept together. At the Magic Box."
Spike's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "Not bloody likely," he practically shouted. "There's no way in hell I'd sleep with that chit," he bit out. "Ever."
Inexplicably angry at him for insulting Tara, Willow wiped her eyes and sat straighter. "Well you did."
Spike shook his head, and grabbed her hand. "No way, baby, I would never cheat on you. I love you, Willow, not some pasty faced stutterer." He smiled tenderly, completely ignoring her groan of frustration, and kissed her.
Would she ever actually wake up? Every time she thought she was awake, something happened to slap that idea down, and the dreams were turning into nightmares. Horrible nightmares. "I want to wake up," she groaned.
Spike pulled back with a grin. "Believe me," he snickered, sliding his hand inside her shirt, "you are awake." He kissed a trail down her neck and sucked at the flesh there.
"So you say," she sighed, "but I know differently. Pretty soon you're going to try to bite me and mention some stupid blue demon." Hey, the blue demon... maybe he was key to waking up. But how? And what was she supposed to do? Find him? Kill him? What?
Spike pulled away and Willow sighed, seeing his demonic ridges in place. She tilted her head to the side and closed her eyes, giving in. Maybe it wouldn't hurt, she thought, like when William had fed from her. Maybe it would wake her up. Maybe-- she screamed as his fangs pierced her flesh, ripping her throat out.
(November 2001)
"How?" Spike asked Tara. "How is she supposed to wake herself up? What does she have to do?"
Tara sat down in a chair, blinking at him as if she'd forgotten he was there. "She has to answer a question."
"A question?" Spike asked in disbelief. "That's it?"
"No. It's not a simple question. It's something that she may not know to be true except subconsciously." She sighed, not quite able to explain what she meant. "The Dream Djin poses a question to her in the shape of dreams, and she has to answer it. It's usually something that the person doesn't see, or want to see. And it can only be answered truthfully, otherwise she'll-- she'll stay asleep and the Djin will get her soul."
Spike nodded and turned back to face Willow. He hid his frown from the witch behind him, and refrained from kicking or hitting something to relieve his frustration. He hadn't just realized his love for Willow just to have her taken away from him. He wouldn't let that happen again.
"You're a bloody witch, isn't there something you can do? Go inside her mind or something? Tell her what she has to do?" He'd already lost everyone he cared about... loved. Dru, Buffy... the others, though he'd deny it to the death. And now it looked like he might lose Willow too. Well, not if he could help it. He turned back to Tara, who had once again fallen silent. "What about that spell she used to go into Buffy's mind?" Tara still didn't answer, so he snapped at her, "I'm not talking to myself here, Witch."
She jumped up excitedly, a smile lighting her face as she ran behind the counter, grabbing ingredients. "There's a spell to go into her mind... like you said. I don't know if it's the same one Willow used or not, but... it should work. I can go--" her eyes shot to his and she frowned, obviously not liking what she was about to say. "You'll have to go so I can do the spell. You go into her dreams and tell her about the Dream Djin, she might know what it is." She brought some candles to the table, along with a bowl and some herbs. Her eyes were on the items in her hands, and she was doing her damnedest to avoid looking at him as she passed by.
"And if she doesn't?" Spike asked, watching her. "Is the Genie going to try to stop me? Can he kill us?"
Tara flipped on the light above the table area and began putting the ingredients into the bowl. "Tell her as much as you can. He'll probably try to stop you, but I don't think he can kill you. Or Willow," she added quickly. "You don't... um, you don't have a soul for him to take, so he probably won't even notice you right away."
Spike nodded thoughtfully. "So I just go into her dreams, find her, tell her what to do and avoid the Genie while I'm at it." He knelt down beside Willow, resisting the urge to smooth her hair back. Tara might find that a little suspicious. Though why he cared what she thought, he had no idea. Had to be Willow's influence. Tara would be upset, and then Willow would be upset, which would make him none too happy. Stupid witch. "Can I help her answer the question?"
Tara shook her head distractedly as she lit the candles. "I don't know. I've never done this before." She looked at him for a split second, before returning to her task. "You're kind of on your own here."
Spike snorted. "Won't be the first time. Hopefully not the last either." He stood up, pacing restlessly. "Let's do this."
"I'm almost ready with this stuff, you need to, um," she cleared her throat and ducked her head, "hold her hand. Physical contact is necessary."
Spike hid a grin and nodded solemnly. "Right." He removed his duster, getting comfortable, and sat down beside Willow, taking her hand in his, closing his eyes to shut out the sight of the blonde witch. Touching Willow, as always, sent so many different feelings through him. Want, need, desire, a sense of contentment, and belonging. A sense of... home. He had to resist the urge to pull her completely into his arms, and just be content with holding her hand.
"Well?" he drawled, "I'm waiting."
Tara cleared her throat again--getting a cold, Witch?--and started chanting.
(November 2001)
Willow sighed in exasperation when she once again woke up. This time she knew immediately that she was still dreaming. It was becoming easier and easier to tell, especially since the cast was no longer on her arm. She was in her bedroom at her house, alone. Well, that was unusual. Since the first dream, she hadn't been alone, someone else was always there... mostly Spike. Tara had only appeared three times, Xander and Oz, each once, and Buffy twice. Giles hadn't shown up at all, for which she was kind of grateful.
Sitting up, she wondered what she should do. Maybe if she stayed here, someone would show up. Or not show up. Or she'd wake up. Or--
"Willow?" Spike called from downstairs.
Crap. She got up, looking down at her pajamas and shrugged. Men's pajama pants, and a black t-shirt that looked an awful lot like Spike's shirt. They weren't her clothes, but who was she to complain?
"Willow?" His yell was followed by running footsteps on the stairs, and a slamming door. Her bedroom door. Flying open to reveal Spike standing there in said black shirt, a worried look on his face. "There you are. Do you have any idea how hard it was to find you? Your mind is... odd."
"Odd?" She shook her head dismissively. "Haven't seen you in a while. Mostly it's been Tara, or Oz, or... hey, I have an idea. Why don't you have Oz and Tara sleep together? That one hasn't been done yet."
Spike's brows dipped down in confusion. "What are you talking about? Tara's back at the magic shop--"
"Yeah, I know," she sneered, pacing over to him. "She's busy sleeping with William, or else she would've come here herself, right?"
"Sleeping with William," he repeated, shuddering. "Yuck. No, we did a spell... you're dreaming--"
Willow gasped dramatically and put a hand to her chest, opening her eyes wide in mock surprise. "I'm... dreaming? Really?" She crossed her arms and glared at him. "Why don't you tell me something I don't know, Spike?"
He grabbed one of her arms and pulled her along with him. "Come on, let's get out of here before the demon finds us. I don't really fancy fighting this thing in your dream."
Willow rolled her eyes at his back. Of course he didn't. Sick and tired of being led around by this dream demon thingie, Willow decided to take charge. When they reached the downstairs, she pulled her hand from his and sat down on the couch.
Spike stared at her in disbelief. "What are you doing? Come on, we have to get out of here."
"No," she told him, stretching languidly. She saw his eyes drop to her exposed stomach and rolled her eyes. This demon had a one-track mind. Maybe it was a lust demon or something. Regardless, she needed to let him in on something. "You're not in charge anymore, I am. And I choose not to go anywhere with you. Not to get bit by you... " she fixed her eyes to his. "And not to be killed by you."
He did a good job of acting guilty. "Is that what you've been dreaming about? Me killing you?" He sat on the arm of the couch with a sigh.
"Yep." She laid down and closed her eyes. "And I'm not playing anymore, so go find someone else to seduce."
"Seduce?" he said in surprise. "Uh, you've been dreaming about me seducing you, love?"
She heard the huskiness of his voice, could imagine his eyes burning into her as he ogled her, and managed to ignore it all. And him. "Wonder if there's anything on my dream TV?"
"Willow?" he said, tapping her foot, then cleared his voice, trying again without all that lust in there. "Willow, we really do have to go. Now. Tara's not sure if he can kill us in here or not, so let's not find out, huh?"
"Oh, Tara says so, does she? Was that before, during, or after you had sex with her?"
"I did not sleep with the witch, and I have no intention of sleeping with her," he said, sounding irritated. "Can't even stand her, remember?"
She forced a yawn, which wasn't too hard, and stretched a little more. "Sure, Spike. Or William. Or whoever you are this time."
He grabbed her hand and pulled her up. "Get up, shut up, and come on before the bloody Dream Djin finds out I'm here... trying to save you from losing your soul."
Now that was different, she'd never been told what it was before. Or what it wanted. "Dream Djin? Is that what you are?"
Spike's irritation was palpable at this point. "No, I'm Spike. The thing that has you trapped here is the Dream Djin."
"Okay," she said, playing along, "is that what the blue guy is? With the gold sigils?"
"Yes," he said in exasperation. "Remember? We were in the cemetery talking about the next slayer being called? I heard a noise and went to check it out, but there was nothing there. When I got back to where I'd left you, I--"
"Yeah, yeah," she said with a sigh. They were back to the same old thing again. "You found me, and told me you loved me," she said in a bored voice, not letting the hurt show through. The pain of betrayal. It was only a dream Spike that had betrayed her after all. And a dream Tara. And Oz, and Buffy, and Xander. "Blah blah, been there, done that, got the t-shirt." She plucked at the shirt she was wearing, and shrugged. "Look familiar? I'm sure it's yours. Though, I don't actually know how it got on me. You know, just once, you could actually finish what you start before ripping my throat out. It's only common courtesy."
Spike was looking at her like... well, frankly, like she was Drusilla or something. "Willow, as much as I'd like to just throw you down and have my way with you, again, now is not the time. I'm not part of your dream. Tara did a spell to send me here. A Dream Djin claimed you while I was checking out that noise, and you've been asleep for over three hours." He pulled her up and out the door with him. "She said you had to answer a question in order to wake up, otherwise the genie gets your soul, so unless you want to die here, I suggest we get the bloody hell out of here. Now."
"Nice try, Spike." She let him pull her along anyway, becoming bored with this dream. He dragged her outside, and down the street. She wasn't too surprised to see that they were headed to his crypt.
They made most of the trip in silence, with an occasional comment from Willow. Finally, she couldn't stand it any longer. "Are you gonna try to seduce me again?"
Spike looked over his shoulder at her, rolling his eyes. "For the tenth time, Willow, I'm not part of your dream. I'm the real Spike. Not William, not the shapeshifter, not a dream Spike."
"That's what you said the last time. Then you--"
"A question," he interrupted, sounding desperate. "Tara said you have to answer a question in order to get out of here. Otherwise the Dream Djin gets your soul. Bloody hell, Willow, help me out here."
She shrugged, still not believing him, but allowing for the possibility. "Okay, fine. What's the question?"
They reached his crypt, and he opened the door for her. She went past him and sat in his chair while he leaned against one of the pillars.
"Don't know. She thought you might recognize the genie. Doesn't ring any bells?" He searched his pockets for his cigarettes, but couldn't find them.
Willow tried to remember any and all things she'd read about genies and dreams, but came up empty. "Nope. And the only thing that's been in almost all the dreams is you. So you tell me what it means."
Spike leered at her, winking exaggeratedly. "That you've got the hots for me?"
She rolled her eyes, ignoring the guilty way her heart leapt to life at his words. "Oh please. Why don't you quit lusting after me, and help me figure this thing out."
He strolled over to her. "I'm lusting after you?" He smirked, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "These aren't my dreams. Not my mind."
He inhaled deeply, making her shiver. Her skin was humming at his nearness. Remembering the last time they'd been here together, and the things he'd said, she really, really wished this wasn't just another dream. "Spike?" she whispered.
He sat down on the arm of the chair. "Yeah, love?"
Instead of saying what she wanted to say, which was a whole lot of stuff containing the words, 'take me, make love to me, let's have sex' and other such things, she said, "If you are just another dream version of the real Spike could you not kill me this time? Please?" And she didn't have to fake the pleading tone in her voice either.
"I promise I won't kill you," he assured her with a sigh. "Now help me figure this thing out."
Sick of his nagging, she rolled her eyes and stood up. "Fine. A question, huh?"
Spike nodded, sliding off the arm of the chair and onto the seat she'd just vacated. "That's what Sutter Girl said." He frowned a bit. "Since I'm a big player in your dreams, could it be that you're afraid of me?" The way she was looking at him made him think that maybe he hadn't sounded as unaffected as he'd tried to. He really didn't want her to be afraid of him. Not anymore. Sure, at one time, not too long ago, he'd wanted exactly that, but not now. Things had changed. He had changed.
But he didn't want her to know that yet, not while trapped in here, stuck in her dreams. There'd be time enough after they got free.
Now it was her turn to reassure him. "No, I'm not afraid of you. At all." She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, and smiled a bit. "If you're the real Spike, that is."
He laughed, reaching for a cigarette again. This time he found them in his duster pocket. "You're paranoid, you know that?" He lit one, inhaling deeply.
Willow shrugged, unconcerned. "You would be too. Okay, so, let's figure this out. You've gotta have something to do with it, since you've been in nearly every dream so far."
"Doing what? Besides seducing you," he chuckled. He was mostly joking, but he was also hopeful. Maybe her dreams were saying what she couldn't. That she had feelings for him. Again, the thought that she'd slept with William came to mind. Willow wasn't the kind to sleep around, and though he'd assumed at first that she'd slept with William out of grief, and then regretted it later, he now knew better.
She sighed and dropped to the floor in front of him. "Let's see. You've slept with Tara, or William did. Whatever. And when Oz and Veruca made a cameo, or Buffy and Xander, you showed up just in time to kill me, or turn me. Other times, you proclaimed your never ending love for me," she said with a cheeky grin. "Such a fickle vampire," she lamented with mock sadness.
"Okay, so apparently it *is* that you've got the hots for me," he teased with a wink.
She slapped his leg. "You know, arrogance doesn't-- well, yeah, actually it does suit you, but, um, stop it."
Suddenly, the door burst open, startling them. Willow jumped to her feet, but by that time Spike was diving at the blue demon. It was the one from the cemetery, definitely the genie responsible for all of this. Spike landed on the demon, and they both went down. And, then he was alone.
Willow screamed as Spike climbed to his feet. The blue demon was across the room, advancing on her. She was hastily backing up, but the wall behind her wouldn't allow her much more room to move. Spike charged the genie, and yanked him away from Willow.
"You can't kill me," the genie told him, his sneer matching his French accent perfectly. "And you can't have the girl. Her soul is mine."
"When will you demons learn? I don't share." Spike punched the demon, who suddenly wasn't there anymore. His fist smashed into the wall, bones breaking on impact. "Bloody hell," he yelled, cradling his fist.
Willow darted around the pillar and the genie, joining Spike by his bed. "Come on," she whispered, pulling at his shirt, trying to drag him out the door with her.
Spike held his ground, knowing the demon wouldn't let them go that easily. "Get behind me," he told Willow, keeping his eye on the demon. The demon who had, once again, disappeared. He spun around at Willow's yelp, shoving her behind him again. "Stay still, you blasted Judge wanna-be."
Willow held onto his arm, and peered around him. "He does kind of look like a Smurf gone bad, doesn't he?" she giggled. The giggle turned into a snort of laughter when the demon raised an imperious eyebrow.
"A Smurf?" it repeated, rolling its eyes. "I hardly think so." He strolled forward, reaching out for Willow. "Come, we have business to attend to."
Willow jerked away, but didn't hide behind Spike. She stood beside him, straightening her shoulders and glaring at the demon. "No. You want my soul, then ask your stupid question here and get it over with."
Spike, proud of her display of courage, shoved her behind him again. "I don't think that's a good idea, pet."
The demon shrugged eloquently, and held his hands out. "Very well. This... place, will work, I suppose." He looked around, sniffing in distaste.
Willow started around Spike, but he grabbed her hand with his un-broken one, holding her still. "Spike, let go," she hissed.
"Uh, no," he said reasonably, "I'm *not* going to let you walk over to the evil demon who wants your soul."
Willow rolled her eyes and stepped back beside him. "Fine, whatever, Mr. Over-protective Guy." She faced the demon and tried to cross her arms, but Spike wasn't letting go of her hand. She sighed heavily. "This question," she asked, "do I know the answer already? I mean, is it something I can actually answer? Something that has an answer?"
"Yes," the demon said, dipping his head in acknowledgement.
"Great," she said with a smile. "Then let's get this over with, because I want to wake up already. No offense, but this place sucks."
"Sure of yourself, aren't you?" the demon asked in amusement.
Willow shrugged modestly. "This is the stuff I'm good at. Just call me Brainy Smurf."
"Again with the Smurfs," the demon chuckled. "All right, here is your question."
"Wait. What if she gets it wrong?" Spike asked. "Can I help her answer it?" Seeing Willow's glare, he added, "If she needs help."
The demon sighed. "If she gets it wrong, she loses her soul. And... yes. I suppose I will allow you to help her," he said magnanimously.
"Just ask already," Willow said impatiently. "I want to wake up. Okay?"
Spike tightened his hand around hers in warning when the demon narrowed his eyes. She squeezed right back.
"Your question," the demon said, then fell silent.
Spike waited patiently, then impatiently as the Willow and the demon stared at each other. "Um, hello? Her question?"
Willow squeezed his hand again and smiled at the genie. "Spike?"
"Yeah?" He looked from Willow to the genie, who was nodding in defeat. "What's going on? You gonna ask your blasted question, or not?"
She grinned in triumph, and hopped a few times. "He already did. I won. I get to wake up. Yay."
Spike, not about to stop to question their good fortune, shrugged and started out of the crypt. He'd ask her later, after they woke up. "Great. Let's go then. How do we--"
"Not yet," the demon said. Seeing the two of them stiffen, he smiled and waved his hand. "Oh, you're free to go, of course. I always keep my word. However, you're also free to stay for a while. Have fun, enjoy yourselves," he said generously. "Whatever you want is yours for the rest of this dream. And don't worry, you won't remember a thing once you wake up."
"Um, no thanks," Willow said with a strained smile. "How-- how do we get out of here?"
The demon chuckled. "Answer the question, or do the one thing you most want to do. Au revoire." He walked toward the door, disappearing before he reached it.
Spike stared after him angrily. Were they any better off than they'd been before? "I thought you already answered the question. And how did you answer it by the way?" He let go of Willow's hand, turning away to examine his own hand. It was black and blue already, as well as green, yellow and bloody. And quite broken.
"In my mind, telepathically or something. And I don't plan on answering it again." She went to the door, trying to open it. "Locked, or stuck. Can you... ?"
Being left-handed, Spike had been swinging with his left hand when the demon disappeared and his fist smashed into the stone wall. Now all he had was his right hand, and, even with his vampiric strength, he didn't think he'd be much use if the door was stuck, or worse, locked from the outside.
"Spike? Hello. Earth to--"
"Yeah, yeah. I got it." He shoved his injured hand into his duster pocket and went to the door. As soon as he pulled on the handle he knew they were stuck unless they could find another way out. He turned back to her, shrugging. "Sorry."
Willow tucked her hair behind her ears, staring at his hand still ensconced in his pocket. "Gonna actually try to open the door now?"
He shrugged, and rolled his eyes. "I can't. Why don't you just answer the bloody question and get us out of here?"
"Uh, because I don't want to?" she replied. "Why don't you just open the bloody door?" She glared at him, waiting expectantly.
"I can't, didn't I just say that?" Spike snapped, shoving past her. She grabbed his arm, swinging him back around.
"Why not?" she demanded, her big green eyes watching him angrily.
He shoved his hand through his hair. "That's not the way out anyhow. Pretty obvious, unless you're you."
"Fine then." She leaned against the door, crossing her arms over her chest. "I suggest you get that chip out or go find Buffy or something, because that's the only way we're going to get out of here."
Spike frowned at her. Is that what she thought he wanted most? The chip out, or Buffy? Had she not heard a word her told her that night in his crypt? Yes, he still wanted Buffy, but that's not what he wanted most. Maybe at one time. Hell, if he was honest with himself, it was only recently that he'd been able to not want Buffy without feeling guilty.
And started wanting Willow? Yes. Definitely. But was it due to the recent deaths of all of their friends? Or was it because of who Willow was? Did he want the girl? Or was he holding on to the last vestige of his life in Sunnydale? He couldn't answer those questions yet, but he did know that he wanted Willow.
Wait. Where was this doubt coming from? He already knew he wanted Willow, and why. He loved her.
"Why don't you go find your witch, or run to William?" he retorted, pulling out his pack of cigarettes. He shook one out and lit it, all with one hand. Quite talented if he did say so himself. And he did.
But Willow was watching him curiously. "What's wrong with your hand?" she asked suspiciously.
Spike shrugged. "Nothing." He didn't want her pity. He was a vampire, he was supposed to be strong, the one in charge, in control. And yet, more than ever lately, he'd shown just how weak he was. Couldn't hurt humans. Couldn't hit a demon. Couldn't open a door.
He didn't want her to see him as a charity case. He wanted to be the one in charge, the one to protect her. But she was already moving forward, pulling his hand out of his pocket, and examining it. He let her, hardly wincing at her light touch. Actually enjoying the feel of her warm skin against his cold hand. Her alive hands against his dead one.
Willow, in her usual way, put things into perspective with her observant comments. "Ew. And yuck." Her mouth was screwed up in disgust, her eyes chastising.
Spike shook his head at the concern etched on her face. It was touching, and heart-warming. Really. If he were a human, he'd be completely... uh, touched, or something. Being a vampire, he had to clench his jaw to keep from snapping at her. Kind of like his old self. Like a true vampire again. Like he wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into that lovely white throat of hers, tear through the skin there, and get at the blood beneath the surface, the blood flowing in her veins.
He had to shake himself out of his thoughts, and pull away from her and her touch. Her smell. Otherwise he was sure he'd be following up those visuals with reality. Willow hadn't noticed his change in attitude, but she must have noticed his change in appearance. She was staring at him, unconcerned with his demonic face, and that angered him. Where the bloody hell was all that fantastic fear he was used to getting from her? He inhaled deeply, his yellow eyes fixed on her.
"Witch?" he growled. And the stupid girl simply crossed her arms over her chest, unmindful of the fact that he wanted to grab her and drain her dry while inflicting as much pain as possible on her.
"Vampire?" One eyebrow quirked up at his odd behavior, but no concern.
Spike closed his eyes, and tried to regain control of himself, but damn if he didn't see her still. Smell her. Feel her. Whatever the hell was going on, he knew it wasn't good. "Willow," he began, losing his patience. "Would you just answer the blasted question so we can get out of here?"
"Would you just bite me?" she retorted, then realized who--or rather what--she was talking to. "Uh, I mean that in a, you know, non-biting capacity. Obviously."
Amused at her backpedaling, Spike nodded. "Oh, yeah, obviously." He grinned and closed the distance between them. "But I think I'll take you up on the offer anyway." Grabbing her by her upper arm with his good hand, he shoved her into the wall.
"Spike, um, ha ha," she said nervously, pushing at his chest. "You're having a funny moment, right? 'Cause... please?" Pushing him away was having no effect, so she tried to squirm out of his grip.
Spike pressed himself against her, fully against her, letting her feel every inch of him as he lowered his head to her neck. He was at war with himself. He equally wanted to taste her, and kiss her. But he also found himself not wanting to do her any harm, and wondered what was happening to him. But then the doubt cleared.
"Sorry, love, I can't seem to stop myself," he told her, his lips curving into a grin as he pressed them against her carotid artery.
Her body actually relaxed at his words. "Oh. Human blood is what you want most? Um, okay, but... could you not make it hurt? Been there, done that. And, I happen to know for a fact that it doesn't have to hurt. So could you not? Please?" She held the collar of her shirt--his shirt--away from her neck, and waited.
"Sure, love, whatever you say," he agreed, then sank his teeth into her neck, making sure to do it as slowly and painfully as possible.
She screamed, trying to push him away, but he wasn't about to let a little redheaded witch get away from him. Not when he was getting his first real taste of warm human blood in two years. And damn, did it taste like heaven. He drank her screams in as much as he did her blood.
"Spike, let me go," she yelled, kicking and hitting at him. "What's wrong with you?"
Spike didn't stop to answer, he just continued to drink from her. Other parts of him were feeling somewhat neglected, but he didn't want to stop drinking her blood long enough to satisfy them. That thought sobered him, forced him to pull his fangs out of her neck, and distance himself from her. As soon as he let her go, she fell to her knees on the stone floor, but her head didn't drop. She lifted her shoulders, tilting her head back, and glared at him. He stalked across the crypt, turning his back on her as he tried to get control of himself.
"Why didn't you just answer the question?" he asked in despair.
"Because I didn't want to," Willow said through clenched teeth. "It's something personal. To me! And it's none of your business."
Spike turned around, his human face back on again. He couldn't believe what he'd just done to her. Couldn't believe he'd lost control like that. "Bloody hell, Willow, I'm sorry," he said miserably. "I don't know what happened--"
"Is that what you wanted most?" she interrupted. When he remained silent, she stood up and walked over to him. "Is it?" she repeated, holding her hand to her neck to stop the blood from flowing out.
"I don't know," he confessed. "I was thinking about what my life has become, and then suddenly I couldn't stop myself from biting you. I lost control." He sincerely hoped the genie was telling the truth, that they wouldn't remember what happened when they woke up, because he couldn't lose Willow.
She turned back to the door, which was now open. "Unless you have more important biting to do, I'm leaving." She walked, unhurriedly, to the door and paused without turning around. "I really hope I don't remember this," she said.
Spike closed his eyes, cursing himself for all kinds of a fool. He started after her, saying a silent prayer that she, at least, wouldn't remember anything.
PART 17
(November 2001)
Willow woke up to someone slapping her face. She looked up... at the stars? The dream that had seemed so real, was rapidly disappearing in her panic. She sat up, looking around her. She was in a cemetery, and that was Spike's hand doing the slapping.
"What am I doing sleeping in a cemetery?"
Spike laughed humorlessly. "Sleeping? You were knocked out by a demon. Remember? Big? Dark blue with gold symbols all over it?"
Willow sat up with a frown, feeling lost. There it was again, that loss of control. She really didn't like that. "Um, when? Last I remember we were--" Oh, no you don't. Let him tell you the last thing that happened. Obviously it had all just been a dream. A very pleasant dream, but a dream nonetheless. "Um, what were we doing?"
Spike sat on a headstone and regarded her curiously. "You don't remember?"
"Sure. I remember we-- um, *you* fought a couple of vampires, and then we were talking about the next slayer being called. Right?"
Spike nodded slowly. "Yeah. That all happened."
Standing was a little more difficult than sitting up had been. She swayed a little, feeling like she hadn't slept in a week. A yawn escaped her and she had to force her eyes open. "Um, then you heard a noise, and went to look, but there was nothing there."
"Wrong."
Her eyes flew to his. So it *had* been just a dream. Of course it was. Spike... her Spike, would never kiss her, at least not while she was fully awake. Never tell her he wanted her. That he loved her. Her heart suddenly felt tight in her chest, and she was having trouble breathing. She sat back down, drawing in air. "So, what did happen?"
"Never mind that," he told her, striding over to her and pulling her up. "Let's go." He put his arm around her shoulders, and steered her toward the cemetery entrance.
Again with the arm. Willow shrugged out from under him and backed away a few feet. "What are you doing? What happened?" She hadn't lost her memory again, had she? She took a deep breath and faced him, hoping to put her mind at ease. "Did it happen again? The spell backfire?"
He rolled his eyes impatiently. "It doesn't matter. Let's just go home... " He ran his eyes over her seductively. "Where I can shag you in private."
"Shag?" she yelped. "What? Why?" What was going on here? She was so confused.
He was watching her intently, his eyes flashing with hunger as he closed the distance between them. He took her hand and pressed it against his erection. "If you don't know why," he whispered huskily, "then maybe you need a reminder."
Completely freaked out by him, she yanked her hand away. "Stop it. What's the matter with you?" She stomped away from him. "Gotta be dreaming again," she mumbled.
(November 2001)
Spike didn't know what to do. Willow was still out. It'd been two hours since the demon had attacked her. Two hours since he'd returned from checking out the noise and found her unconscious on the grass, a big blue demon with gold symbols on it, standing over her. The demon, in the process of picking Willow up, had dropped her and run when Spike attacked him. Spike had then carried her to the magick shop, and broken in the back door. Things went a little more smoothly this time than when he broke in with Dawn.
He threw another book on the table, his frustration mounting with every passing minute. The answer had to be here somewhere, in one of these blasted books. But he hadn't found anything yet, except his helplessness. Not even knowing how to go about finding the bloody demon, Spike cursed himself for not having paid more attention during their research sessions. Maybe then he'd know which books contained the demon he needed. Finding the reversal spell for the emotional control screw-up was easier than this.
At least Willow's life hadn't been in immediate danger.
As if hearing his thoughts, she moaned and whimpered, obviously in the throes of a nightmare. He swept the books to the floor in one clean sweep, wishing that at least one of their friends had survived the massacre-- Tara. Tara was alive, and damn if she wasn't a witch! Spike could have smacked himself for not remembering her earlier. He hoped it wasn't too late.
Halfway out the door, he stopped. He couldn't leave Willow alone here, not in the condition she was in. Giles had to have the witch's number here somewhere. He went around the counter and searched for a phone book, anything with phone numbers. He found it almost immediately. Dialing the girl's number, he swallowed his distaste for her and told her what had happened, and asked her to come to the Magic Box.
Willow whimpered again and Spike sat down beside her. Her hair was plastered to her face with sweat, her skin was flushed, and a frown had formed on her brow. Smoothing her hair back, he was surprised to feel cool flesh instead of heated. He'd thought she was feverish. She shuddered at his touch and pulled away from him with a moan. He felt inexplicably hurt by her actions... as if she knew it was him, and was rejecting him.
He took her hand, partially to comfort her and partially to reassure himself that she wasn't rejecting him, just her dream phantoms. She didn't pull away this time, but snuggled closer to him with a sigh.
This was the first time he'd truly been able to touch her since their conversation in his crypt. Since the night she'd kept silent after his declaration of... love? No. He hadn't declared his love for her, he'd vowed never to do that again after Buffy. He had piss-poor luck when it came to love, didn't he? Fell in love too easily, and with the wrong women. Why was he plagued with these feelings so much?
He blamed it all on that blasted poet he'd been before getting turned. Damned sensitive wanker, if he hadn't been such a pansy, Spike wouldn't feel every little thing as deeply as he did. He'd go through life with little regard for others, killing, maiming, torturing... ah, good times. But, no, that couldn't be his simple life. He had to feel and want and hunger and need.
Feel and want and hunger and need to have his love returned. Buffy'd been the worst. She'd broken his heart just as badly as Dru and Cecily. Maybe more. And now Willow? Yeah, he'd definitely fallen in love with her sometime in the past few months. Maybe even before that.
There'd definitely been some ogling going on when he first got chipped. At their research sessions, he'd cheerfully looked up Buffy's skirts, admired Willow's rear when she bent over in view of him, saw through a couple of her shirts... and when Willow was dying inside from the wolf's loss, he'd noticed. Probably only because he'd so recently felt the same, but it could've been more than that, couldn't it?
He'd certainly always found her attractive. Smoothing her hair away from her face with a sigh, he shifted slightly, rearranging her on his lap.
Truth was, he'd told Willow more than he'd ever intended to, more than he should have. That was obvious now.
What had he been thinking when he told her she was the 'more' he was searching for? Bloody hell, had to be the leftover bits of his human, poetic mind interfering, screwing things up for him.
She hadn't even responded to the declaration. She'd stopped walking, and he could hear her heartbeat speed up, and he'd been so hopeful, thinking maybe she felt something close to what he felt for her. He'd left the decision entirely up to her.
When she finally ran to catch up with him, his heart had tried to start beating.
When she remained silent, his heart did the same.
Well now, he thought, aren't you just the poetic ponce?
Even still, he'd been able to justify her lack of response to himself. Maybe she was afraid of his feelings for her, or her feelings for him, or both. And she'd only just broken up with Tara recently. Plus she had that fling with William. He'd ignored the thought that that should make her want *him* too. Maybe she didn't like what he'd become. Maybe she liked the danger of being with William.
Sure were a lot of maybes.
He traced his hand down her face, and leaned down to kiss her lips lightly. She moaned again, still in distress, locked in another nightmare.
He'd told Willow that she was everything he was looking for, everything he'd been lacking, and he'd meant it. She satisfied every part of him. His heart, his mind, his body, his sense of humor, his... everything.
And now, because he couldn't keep his mouth shut, there was an unspoken rule between them; no talking about that night, no talking about their feelings, and no touching. Tonight, he'd broken that rule. And look what'd happened. Well that changes. As soon as she woke up, he was telling her exactly how he felt, and giving her an ultimatum. If she didn't feel the same way, or wasn't amenable to a relationship with him, he'd leave town.
Leave Sunnydale behind once and for all. That decided, he sat back more comfortably, and kissed Willow's forehead as he waited for her ex to get there.
Tara finally arrived twenty minutes later, rushing through the door in a panic, her hair flying all around her, books falling to the floor. Not seeming to notice the books, she left them where they were and ran to Willow. Spike stepped back, giving the girl room, though what he really wanted to do was pull her away from Willow. He'd still been holding Willow, just enjoying actually being able to do that when he heard Tara coming. Setting her down had been one of the hardest things he'd had to do in a while, but he'd done it, and stood away, moving slightly away from her.
"What happened?" Tara asked, running her hands over Willow, checking for injuries.
Not liking the familiar way she touched Willow, Spike spoke more harshly than he intended. "She doesn't have any wounds. She's... asleep, as far as I can tell. Heart rates normal. So's her breathing."
She only then seemed to *really* notice him there. Her eyes flickered from Willow to him, and he was surprised to see a healthy dose of dislike in her gaze before she looked away again. "Asleep? Is it a sleep spell? Did someone do that? A sleep spell, I mean." She rolled her eyes at herself, her stumbling questions completely ruining the in charge effect she was striving for.
Spike almost felt sorry for her... but, no, he really didn't. "A demon. Big blue thing with gold... lettering or symbols or something on his arms and face." He wondered, as he studied her, why she and Willow had broken up. All he knew was that they had, but he suspected William factored in there somehow. Did Tara know Willow had slept with his younger self?
Her eyes suddenly went wide. "Are you sure they were gold? Th-- they weren't silver?"
Spike had to clench his fists to keep from snapping at her. "I'm sure. Why?"
Tara wasn't paying attention to him any longer. She'd rushed over to her forgotten books and was sorting through them. Or throwing them, rather. Finally, she grabbed a small, thin, bright red book, and brought it to the table to read.
Spike waited impatiently until she found what she was looking for, then even more impatiently when she didn't tell him anything. "Well?" he snapped.
She looked up from the book, her eyes falling on Willow. "She's been claimed by a Dream Djin." Her voice shook slightly.
"Great," he said in relief, "now that we know what it is, how do I kill it? How do we wake her up?" This he could do, take action. It was the sitting around and reading part that got to him, frustrated him. He raised a questioning brow at her when she remained silent. "Witch?"
She shook her head slowly. "We don't. She has to wake herself up. She has to figure it out, and make herself wake up."
Was that despair lacing her voice? He thought it just might be. Confusion settled over him. "How's she supposed to do that?"
"I don't know if she can."
And once again, there went his heart trying to beat in his chest.
(November 2001)
Willow stared at the vampire before her, wondering if she'd lost her mind, because she couldn't have heard him right. "You love me?" Something about this scene felt familiar to her, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She and Spike were patrolling, looking for a blue demon with gold sigils on it, but the cemetery seemed rather dead. Not of the vampire kind, just the buried in the ground kind. Then suddenly, from out of nowhere, Spike grabbed her hand and proclaimed his love for her.
And now he was nodding, a seductive smile turning up his lips as his eyes roamed over her. "With all my heart." He pulled her closer, cradling her face in his hands. "I want to be with you forever." He kissed her lips lightly, and wrapped his arms around her. "Always." His lips brushed against her neck.
Willow pulled back, a bit afraid of him. She saw the golden glow of his eyes and her own widened. She took a few very large steps back, watching him warily. She chuckled nervously. "But, not in a vampire way? Right?"
His face vamped out in answer and he stalked toward her. "It's the only way we can be together forever," he said reasonably.
Willow held her hand out to halt his progress. "But. You said you loved me," she yelled in a panic.
He stopped and grinned. "I did," he agreed.
"Then, um, if you kill me, and-- and turn me, the part you love about me will be gone. Forever. My soul?" she said sadly, "kaput."
Spike shrugged and grabbed her by the shoulders. "It's not your soul I love," he whispered, biting into her neck.
Willow screamed and shoved him away. This was just another nightmare. It had to be. She needed to wake up, that's all. She turned to run and fell flat on her face. She moaned and climbed hastily to her feet... in the Magic Box?
"Huh? How did I get here?" She blinked a few times, feeling exhausted. Oh, right, she'd fallen asleep here. She glanced around, looking for the others, sure that they'd all been there, researching some kind of funky blue demon with gold things on it.
But now, Spike was the only one there. The shop was dark aside from a few candles on the table. She carefully approached Spike, who was curled up on the big chair, with his back to her. She shook his shoulder lightly. "Spike."
He groaned and stretched a bit, rolling over with a yawn. "Red?" His eyes widened and he sat up quickly. "Willow." He stood up and pulled her with him to the other side of the room.
She watched him warily, wondering what he was up to. "Spike? What are you doing? What's--" and then she saw it. Her. Saw her. "Tara?" Tara was just getting up from the chair Spike had been asleep in. All she had on was her blouse, which barely reached the tops of her thighs.
"Willow." She bit her lip nervously and her eyes shot to Spike's.
Willow yanked her arm out of Spike's grip and turned to him, accusation plain on her face. "You slept with her?" She turned back to Tara, hurt and pain ripping through her. "Tara, how... oh, God," she whispered. She backed away from the two of them, wanting to be as far away as possible.
Tara went to Spike, putting her arm around his waist and leaning into him. Spike wrapped his arm around Tara's shoulders, smirking at Willow. "Sorry, Red, you've been replaced. You served your purpose; I never fell for Buffy. But now your usefulness has ended."
"Willow, I really did love you. Really," Tara said with a giggle, unable to keep a straight face. Spike's chuckles joined Tara's and turned into hysterical laughter. At Willow's expense.
Willow turned and ran, feeling like she'd stumbled into a nightmare dreamscape. This one was worse than the last one. At least then it had only been Spike betraying her, not William and Tara. She ran through the darkened streets to her house, shoved open her front door, and almost knocked down a startled Spike.
"Willow? What happened?" He reached out to steady her, but she jerked away.
"Don't touch me." She walked stiffly past him, upstairs to her room. He followed her, leaning against the doorjamb as she collapsed on her bed with a sob. "Go away," she whispered miserably.
He pushed away from the wall and knelt down beside her. "What is it, Willow?" His hand smoothed down her back, calming her somewhat.
This was Spike, not William. This Spike hadn't betrayed her with Tara. Okay, so Willow had betrayed Tara first, but not with someone who hated her. Oh, wait. Yes, she had. She sniffled and lifted her head to look at Spike. "William and Tara slept together. At the Magic Box."
Spike's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "Not bloody likely," he practically shouted. "There's no way in hell I'd sleep with that chit," he bit out. "Ever."
Inexplicably angry at him for insulting Tara, Willow wiped her eyes and sat straighter. "Well you did."
Spike shook his head, and grabbed her hand. "No way, baby, I would never cheat on you. I love you, Willow, not some pasty faced stutterer." He smiled tenderly, completely ignoring her groan of frustration, and kissed her.
Would she ever actually wake up? Every time she thought she was awake, something happened to slap that idea down, and the dreams were turning into nightmares. Horrible nightmares. "I want to wake up," she groaned.
Spike pulled back with a grin. "Believe me," he snickered, sliding his hand inside her shirt, "you are awake." He kissed a trail down her neck and sucked at the flesh there.
"So you say," she sighed, "but I know differently. Pretty soon you're going to try to bite me and mention some stupid blue demon." Hey, the blue demon... maybe he was key to waking up. But how? And what was she supposed to do? Find him? Kill him? What?
Spike pulled away and Willow sighed, seeing his demonic ridges in place. She tilted her head to the side and closed her eyes, giving in. Maybe it wouldn't hurt, she thought, like when William had fed from her. Maybe it would wake her up. Maybe-- she screamed as his fangs pierced her flesh, ripping her throat out.
(November 2001)
"How?" Spike asked Tara. "How is she supposed to wake herself up? What does she have to do?"
Tara sat down in a chair, blinking at him as if she'd forgotten he was there. "She has to answer a question."
"A question?" Spike asked in disbelief. "That's it?"
"No. It's not a simple question. It's something that she may not know to be true except subconsciously." She sighed, not quite able to explain what she meant. "The Dream Djin poses a question to her in the shape of dreams, and she has to answer it. It's usually something that the person doesn't see, or want to see. And it can only be answered truthfully, otherwise she'll-- she'll stay asleep and the Djin will get her soul."
Spike nodded and turned back to face Willow. He hid his frown from the witch behind him, and refrained from kicking or hitting something to relieve his frustration. He hadn't just realized his love for Willow just to have her taken away from him. He wouldn't let that happen again.
"You're a bloody witch, isn't there something you can do? Go inside her mind or something? Tell her what she has to do?" He'd already lost everyone he cared about... loved. Dru, Buffy... the others, though he'd deny it to the death. And now it looked like he might lose Willow too. Well, not if he could help it. He turned back to Tara, who had once again fallen silent. "What about that spell she used to go into Buffy's mind?" Tara still didn't answer, so he snapped at her, "I'm not talking to myself here, Witch."
She jumped up excitedly, a smile lighting her face as she ran behind the counter, grabbing ingredients. "There's a spell to go into her mind... like you said. I don't know if it's the same one Willow used or not, but... it should work. I can go--" her eyes shot to his and she frowned, obviously not liking what she was about to say. "You'll have to go so I can do the spell. You go into her dreams and tell her about the Dream Djin, she might know what it is." She brought some candles to the table, along with a bowl and some herbs. Her eyes were on the items in her hands, and she was doing her damnedest to avoid looking at him as she passed by.
"And if she doesn't?" Spike asked, watching her. "Is the Genie going to try to stop me? Can he kill us?"
Tara flipped on the light above the table area and began putting the ingredients into the bowl. "Tell her as much as you can. He'll probably try to stop you, but I don't think he can kill you. Or Willow," she added quickly. "You don't... um, you don't have a soul for him to take, so he probably won't even notice you right away."
Spike nodded thoughtfully. "So I just go into her dreams, find her, tell her what to do and avoid the Genie while I'm at it." He knelt down beside Willow, resisting the urge to smooth her hair back. Tara might find that a little suspicious. Though why he cared what she thought, he had no idea. Had to be Willow's influence. Tara would be upset, and then Willow would be upset, which would make him none too happy. Stupid witch. "Can I help her answer the question?"
Tara shook her head distractedly as she lit the candles. "I don't know. I've never done this before." She looked at him for a split second, before returning to her task. "You're kind of on your own here."
Spike snorted. "Won't be the first time. Hopefully not the last either." He stood up, pacing restlessly. "Let's do this."
"I'm almost ready with this stuff, you need to, um," she cleared her throat and ducked her head, "hold her hand. Physical contact is necessary."
Spike hid a grin and nodded solemnly. "Right." He removed his duster, getting comfortable, and sat down beside Willow, taking her hand in his, closing his eyes to shut out the sight of the blonde witch. Touching Willow, as always, sent so many different feelings through him. Want, need, desire, a sense of contentment, and belonging. A sense of... home. He had to resist the urge to pull her completely into his arms, and just be content with holding her hand.
"Well?" he drawled, "I'm waiting."
Tara cleared her throat again--getting a cold, Witch?--and started chanting.
(November 2001)
Willow sighed in exasperation when she once again woke up. This time she knew immediately that she was still dreaming. It was becoming easier and easier to tell, especially since the cast was no longer on her arm. She was in her bedroom at her house, alone. Well, that was unusual. Since the first dream, she hadn't been alone, someone else was always there... mostly Spike. Tara had only appeared three times, Xander and Oz, each once, and Buffy twice. Giles hadn't shown up at all, for which she was kind of grateful.
Sitting up, she wondered what she should do. Maybe if she stayed here, someone would show up. Or not show up. Or she'd wake up. Or--
"Willow?" Spike called from downstairs.
Crap. She got up, looking down at her pajamas and shrugged. Men's pajama pants, and a black t-shirt that looked an awful lot like Spike's shirt. They weren't her clothes, but who was she to complain?
"Willow?" His yell was followed by running footsteps on the stairs, and a slamming door. Her bedroom door. Flying open to reveal Spike standing there in said black shirt, a worried look on his face. "There you are. Do you have any idea how hard it was to find you? Your mind is... odd."
"Odd?" She shook her head dismissively. "Haven't seen you in a while. Mostly it's been Tara, or Oz, or... hey, I have an idea. Why don't you have Oz and Tara sleep together? That one hasn't been done yet."
Spike's brows dipped down in confusion. "What are you talking about? Tara's back at the magic shop--"
"Yeah, I know," she sneered, pacing over to him. "She's busy sleeping with William, or else she would've come here herself, right?"
"Sleeping with William," he repeated, shuddering. "Yuck. No, we did a spell... you're dreaming--"
Willow gasped dramatically and put a hand to her chest, opening her eyes wide in mock surprise. "I'm... dreaming? Really?" She crossed her arms and glared at him. "Why don't you tell me something I don't know, Spike?"
He grabbed one of her arms and pulled her along with him. "Come on, let's get out of here before the demon finds us. I don't really fancy fighting this thing in your dream."
Willow rolled her eyes at his back. Of course he didn't. Sick and tired of being led around by this dream demon thingie, Willow decided to take charge. When they reached the downstairs, she pulled her hand from his and sat down on the couch.
Spike stared at her in disbelief. "What are you doing? Come on, we have to get out of here."
"No," she told him, stretching languidly. She saw his eyes drop to her exposed stomach and rolled her eyes. This demon had a one-track mind. Maybe it was a lust demon or something. Regardless, she needed to let him in on something. "You're not in charge anymore, I am. And I choose not to go anywhere with you. Not to get bit by you... " she fixed her eyes to his. "And not to be killed by you."
He did a good job of acting guilty. "Is that what you've been dreaming about? Me killing you?" He sat on the arm of the couch with a sigh.
"Yep." She laid down and closed her eyes. "And I'm not playing anymore, so go find someone else to seduce."
"Seduce?" he said in surprise. "Uh, you've been dreaming about me seducing you, love?"
She heard the huskiness of his voice, could imagine his eyes burning into her as he ogled her, and managed to ignore it all. And him. "Wonder if there's anything on my dream TV?"
"Willow?" he said, tapping her foot, then cleared his voice, trying again without all that lust in there. "Willow, we really do have to go. Now. Tara's not sure if he can kill us in here or not, so let's not find out, huh?"
"Oh, Tara says so, does she? Was that before, during, or after you had sex with her?"
"I did not sleep with the witch, and I have no intention of sleeping with her," he said, sounding irritated. "Can't even stand her, remember?"
She forced a yawn, which wasn't too hard, and stretched a little more. "Sure, Spike. Or William. Or whoever you are this time."
He grabbed her hand and pulled her up. "Get up, shut up, and come on before the bloody Dream Djin finds out I'm here... trying to save you from losing your soul."
Now that was different, she'd never been told what it was before. Or what it wanted. "Dream Djin? Is that what you are?"
Spike's irritation was palpable at this point. "No, I'm Spike. The thing that has you trapped here is the Dream Djin."
"Okay," she said, playing along, "is that what the blue guy is? With the gold sigils?"
"Yes," he said in exasperation. "Remember? We were in the cemetery talking about the next slayer being called? I heard a noise and went to check it out, but there was nothing there. When I got back to where I'd left you, I--"
"Yeah, yeah," she said with a sigh. They were back to the same old thing again. "You found me, and told me you loved me," she said in a bored voice, not letting the hurt show through. The pain of betrayal. It was only a dream Spike that had betrayed her after all. And a dream Tara. And Oz, and Buffy, and Xander. "Blah blah, been there, done that, got the t-shirt." She plucked at the shirt she was wearing, and shrugged. "Look familiar? I'm sure it's yours. Though, I don't actually know how it got on me. You know, just once, you could actually finish what you start before ripping my throat out. It's only common courtesy."
Spike was looking at her like... well, frankly, like she was Drusilla or something. "Willow, as much as I'd like to just throw you down and have my way with you, again, now is not the time. I'm not part of your dream. Tara did a spell to send me here. A Dream Djin claimed you while I was checking out that noise, and you've been asleep for over three hours." He pulled her up and out the door with him. "She said you had to answer a question in order to wake up, otherwise the genie gets your soul, so unless you want to die here, I suggest we get the bloody hell out of here. Now."
"Nice try, Spike." She let him pull her along anyway, becoming bored with this dream. He dragged her outside, and down the street. She wasn't too surprised to see that they were headed to his crypt.
They made most of the trip in silence, with an occasional comment from Willow. Finally, she couldn't stand it any longer. "Are you gonna try to seduce me again?"
Spike looked over his shoulder at her, rolling his eyes. "For the tenth time, Willow, I'm not part of your dream. I'm the real Spike. Not William, not the shapeshifter, not a dream Spike."
"That's what you said the last time. Then you--"
"A question," he interrupted, sounding desperate. "Tara said you have to answer a question in order to get out of here. Otherwise the Dream Djin gets your soul. Bloody hell, Willow, help me out here."
She shrugged, still not believing him, but allowing for the possibility. "Okay, fine. What's the question?"
They reached his crypt, and he opened the door for her. She went past him and sat in his chair while he leaned against one of the pillars.
"Don't know. She thought you might recognize the genie. Doesn't ring any bells?" He searched his pockets for his cigarettes, but couldn't find them.
Willow tried to remember any and all things she'd read about genies and dreams, but came up empty. "Nope. And the only thing that's been in almost all the dreams is you. So you tell me what it means."
Spike leered at her, winking exaggeratedly. "That you've got the hots for me?"
She rolled her eyes, ignoring the guilty way her heart leapt to life at his words. "Oh please. Why don't you quit lusting after me, and help me figure this thing out."
He strolled over to her. "I'm lusting after you?" He smirked, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "These aren't my dreams. Not my mind."
He inhaled deeply, making her shiver. Her skin was humming at his nearness. Remembering the last time they'd been here together, and the things he'd said, she really, really wished this wasn't just another dream. "Spike?" she whispered.
He sat down on the arm of the chair. "Yeah, love?"
Instead of saying what she wanted to say, which was a whole lot of stuff containing the words, 'take me, make love to me, let's have sex' and other such things, she said, "If you are just another dream version of the real Spike could you not kill me this time? Please?" And she didn't have to fake the pleading tone in her voice either.
"I promise I won't kill you," he assured her with a sigh. "Now help me figure this thing out."
Sick of his nagging, she rolled her eyes and stood up. "Fine. A question, huh?"
Spike nodded, sliding off the arm of the chair and onto the seat she'd just vacated. "That's what Sutter Girl said." He frowned a bit. "Since I'm a big player in your dreams, could it be that you're afraid of me?" The way she was looking at him made him think that maybe he hadn't sounded as unaffected as he'd tried to. He really didn't want her to be afraid of him. Not anymore. Sure, at one time, not too long ago, he'd wanted exactly that, but not now. Things had changed. He had changed.
But he didn't want her to know that yet, not while trapped in here, stuck in her dreams. There'd be time enough after they got free.
Now it was her turn to reassure him. "No, I'm not afraid of you. At all." She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, and smiled a bit. "If you're the real Spike, that is."
He laughed, reaching for a cigarette again. This time he found them in his duster pocket. "You're paranoid, you know that?" He lit one, inhaling deeply.
Willow shrugged, unconcerned. "You would be too. Okay, so, let's figure this out. You've gotta have something to do with it, since you've been in nearly every dream so far."
"Doing what? Besides seducing you," he chuckled. He was mostly joking, but he was also hopeful. Maybe her dreams were saying what she couldn't. That she had feelings for him. Again, the thought that she'd slept with William came to mind. Willow wasn't the kind to sleep around, and though he'd assumed at first that she'd slept with William out of grief, and then regretted it later, he now knew better.
She sighed and dropped to the floor in front of him. "Let's see. You've slept with Tara, or William did. Whatever. And when Oz and Veruca made a cameo, or Buffy and Xander, you showed up just in time to kill me, or turn me. Other times, you proclaimed your never ending love for me," she said with a cheeky grin. "Such a fickle vampire," she lamented with mock sadness.
"Okay, so apparently it *is* that you've got the hots for me," he teased with a wink.
She slapped his leg. "You know, arrogance doesn't-- well, yeah, actually it does suit you, but, um, stop it."
Suddenly, the door burst open, startling them. Willow jumped to her feet, but by that time Spike was diving at the blue demon. It was the one from the cemetery, definitely the genie responsible for all of this. Spike landed on the demon, and they both went down. And, then he was alone.
Willow screamed as Spike climbed to his feet. The blue demon was across the room, advancing on her. She was hastily backing up, but the wall behind her wouldn't allow her much more room to move. Spike charged the genie, and yanked him away from Willow.
"You can't kill me," the genie told him, his sneer matching his French accent perfectly. "And you can't have the girl. Her soul is mine."
"When will you demons learn? I don't share." Spike punched the demon, who suddenly wasn't there anymore. His fist smashed into the wall, bones breaking on impact. "Bloody hell," he yelled, cradling his fist.
Willow darted around the pillar and the genie, joining Spike by his bed. "Come on," she whispered, pulling at his shirt, trying to drag him out the door with her.
Spike held his ground, knowing the demon wouldn't let them go that easily. "Get behind me," he told Willow, keeping his eye on the demon. The demon who had, once again, disappeared. He spun around at Willow's yelp, shoving her behind him again. "Stay still, you blasted Judge wanna-be."
Willow held onto his arm, and peered around him. "He does kind of look like a Smurf gone bad, doesn't he?" she giggled. The giggle turned into a snort of laughter when the demon raised an imperious eyebrow.
"A Smurf?" it repeated, rolling its eyes. "I hardly think so." He strolled forward, reaching out for Willow. "Come, we have business to attend to."
Willow jerked away, but didn't hide behind Spike. She stood beside him, straightening her shoulders and glaring at the demon. "No. You want my soul, then ask your stupid question here and get it over with."
Spike, proud of her display of courage, shoved her behind him again. "I don't think that's a good idea, pet."
The demon shrugged eloquently, and held his hands out. "Very well. This... place, will work, I suppose." He looked around, sniffing in distaste.
Willow started around Spike, but he grabbed her hand with his un-broken one, holding her still. "Spike, let go," she hissed.
"Uh, no," he said reasonably, "I'm *not* going to let you walk over to the evil demon who wants your soul."
Willow rolled her eyes and stepped back beside him. "Fine, whatever, Mr. Over-protective Guy." She faced the demon and tried to cross her arms, but Spike wasn't letting go of her hand. She sighed heavily. "This question," she asked, "do I know the answer already? I mean, is it something I can actually answer? Something that has an answer?"
"Yes," the demon said, dipping his head in acknowledgement.
"Great," she said with a smile. "Then let's get this over with, because I want to wake up already. No offense, but this place sucks."
"Sure of yourself, aren't you?" the demon asked in amusement.
Willow shrugged modestly. "This is the stuff I'm good at. Just call me Brainy Smurf."
"Again with the Smurfs," the demon chuckled. "All right, here is your question."
"Wait. What if she gets it wrong?" Spike asked. "Can I help her answer it?" Seeing Willow's glare, he added, "If she needs help."
The demon sighed. "If she gets it wrong, she loses her soul. And... yes. I suppose I will allow you to help her," he said magnanimously.
"Just ask already," Willow said impatiently. "I want to wake up. Okay?"
Spike tightened his hand around hers in warning when the demon narrowed his eyes. She squeezed right back.
"Your question," the demon said, then fell silent.
Spike waited patiently, then impatiently as the Willow and the demon stared at each other. "Um, hello? Her question?"
Willow squeezed his hand again and smiled at the genie. "Spike?"
"Yeah?" He looked from Willow to the genie, who was nodding in defeat. "What's going on? You gonna ask your blasted question, or not?"
She grinned in triumph, and hopped a few times. "He already did. I won. I get to wake up. Yay."
Spike, not about to stop to question their good fortune, shrugged and started out of the crypt. He'd ask her later, after they woke up. "Great. Let's go then. How do we--"
"Not yet," the demon said. Seeing the two of them stiffen, he smiled and waved his hand. "Oh, you're free to go, of course. I always keep my word. However, you're also free to stay for a while. Have fun, enjoy yourselves," he said generously. "Whatever you want is yours for the rest of this dream. And don't worry, you won't remember a thing once you wake up."
"Um, no thanks," Willow said with a strained smile. "How-- how do we get out of here?"
The demon chuckled. "Answer the question, or do the one thing you most want to do. Au revoire." He walked toward the door, disappearing before he reached it.
Spike stared after him angrily. Were they any better off than they'd been before? "I thought you already answered the question. And how did you answer it by the way?" He let go of Willow's hand, turning away to examine his own hand. It was black and blue already, as well as green, yellow and bloody. And quite broken.
"In my mind, telepathically or something. And I don't plan on answering it again." She went to the door, trying to open it. "Locked, or stuck. Can you... ?"
Being left-handed, Spike had been swinging with his left hand when the demon disappeared and his fist smashed into the stone wall. Now all he had was his right hand, and, even with his vampiric strength, he didn't think he'd be much use if the door was stuck, or worse, locked from the outside.
"Spike? Hello. Earth to--"
"Yeah, yeah. I got it." He shoved his injured hand into his duster pocket and went to the door. As soon as he pulled on the handle he knew they were stuck unless they could find another way out. He turned back to her, shrugging. "Sorry."
Willow tucked her hair behind her ears, staring at his hand still ensconced in his pocket. "Gonna actually try to open the door now?"
He shrugged, and rolled his eyes. "I can't. Why don't you just answer the bloody question and get us out of here?"
"Uh, because I don't want to?" she replied. "Why don't you just open the bloody door?" She glared at him, waiting expectantly.
"I can't, didn't I just say that?" Spike snapped, shoving past her. She grabbed his arm, swinging him back around.
"Why not?" she demanded, her big green eyes watching him angrily.
He shoved his hand through his hair. "That's not the way out anyhow. Pretty obvious, unless you're you."
"Fine then." She leaned against the door, crossing her arms over her chest. "I suggest you get that chip out or go find Buffy or something, because that's the only way we're going to get out of here."
Spike frowned at her. Is that what she thought he wanted most? The chip out, or Buffy? Had she not heard a word her told her that night in his crypt? Yes, he still wanted Buffy, but that's not what he wanted most. Maybe at one time. Hell, if he was honest with himself, it was only recently that he'd been able to not want Buffy without feeling guilty.
And started wanting Willow? Yes. Definitely. But was it due to the recent deaths of all of their friends? Or was it because of who Willow was? Did he want the girl? Or was he holding on to the last vestige of his life in Sunnydale? He couldn't answer those questions yet, but he did know that he wanted Willow.
Wait. Where was this doubt coming from? He already knew he wanted Willow, and why. He loved her.
"Why don't you go find your witch, or run to William?" he retorted, pulling out his pack of cigarettes. He shook one out and lit it, all with one hand. Quite talented if he did say so himself. And he did.
But Willow was watching him curiously. "What's wrong with your hand?" she asked suspiciously.
Spike shrugged. "Nothing." He didn't want her pity. He was a vampire, he was supposed to be strong, the one in charge, in control. And yet, more than ever lately, he'd shown just how weak he was. Couldn't hurt humans. Couldn't hit a demon. Couldn't open a door.
He didn't want her to see him as a charity case. He wanted to be the one in charge, the one to protect her. But she was already moving forward, pulling his hand out of his pocket, and examining it. He let her, hardly wincing at her light touch. Actually enjoying the feel of her warm skin against his cold hand. Her alive hands against his dead one.
Willow, in her usual way, put things into perspective with her observant comments. "Ew. And yuck." Her mouth was screwed up in disgust, her eyes chastising.
Spike shook his head at the concern etched on her face. It was touching, and heart-warming. Really. If he were a human, he'd be completely... uh, touched, or something. Being a vampire, he had to clench his jaw to keep from snapping at her. Kind of like his old self. Like a true vampire again. Like he wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into that lovely white throat of hers, tear through the skin there, and get at the blood beneath the surface, the blood flowing in her veins.
He had to shake himself out of his thoughts, and pull away from her and her touch. Her smell. Otherwise he was sure he'd be following up those visuals with reality. Willow hadn't noticed his change in attitude, but she must have noticed his change in appearance. She was staring at him, unconcerned with his demonic face, and that angered him. Where the bloody hell was all that fantastic fear he was used to getting from her? He inhaled deeply, his yellow eyes fixed on her.
"Witch?" he growled. And the stupid girl simply crossed her arms over her chest, unmindful of the fact that he wanted to grab her and drain her dry while inflicting as much pain as possible on her.
"Vampire?" One eyebrow quirked up at his odd behavior, but no concern.
Spike closed his eyes, and tried to regain control of himself, but damn if he didn't see her still. Smell her. Feel her. Whatever the hell was going on, he knew it wasn't good. "Willow," he began, losing his patience. "Would you just answer the blasted question so we can get out of here?"
"Would you just bite me?" she retorted, then realized who--or rather what--she was talking to. "Uh, I mean that in a, you know, non-biting capacity. Obviously."
Amused at her backpedaling, Spike nodded. "Oh, yeah, obviously." He grinned and closed the distance between them. "But I think I'll take you up on the offer anyway." Grabbing her by her upper arm with his good hand, he shoved her into the wall.
"Spike, um, ha ha," she said nervously, pushing at his chest. "You're having a funny moment, right? 'Cause... please?" Pushing him away was having no effect, so she tried to squirm out of his grip.
Spike pressed himself against her, fully against her, letting her feel every inch of him as he lowered his head to her neck. He was at war with himself. He equally wanted to taste her, and kiss her. But he also found himself not wanting to do her any harm, and wondered what was happening to him. But then the doubt cleared.
"Sorry, love, I can't seem to stop myself," he told her, his lips curving into a grin as he pressed them against her carotid artery.
Her body actually relaxed at his words. "Oh. Human blood is what you want most? Um, okay, but... could you not make it hurt? Been there, done that. And, I happen to know for a fact that it doesn't have to hurt. So could you not? Please?" She held the collar of her shirt--his shirt--away from her neck, and waited.
"Sure, love, whatever you say," he agreed, then sank his teeth into her neck, making sure to do it as slowly and painfully as possible.
She screamed, trying to push him away, but he wasn't about to let a little redheaded witch get away from him. Not when he was getting his first real taste of warm human blood in two years. And damn, did it taste like heaven. He drank her screams in as much as he did her blood.
"Spike, let me go," she yelled, kicking and hitting at him. "What's wrong with you?"
Spike didn't stop to answer, he just continued to drink from her. Other parts of him were feeling somewhat neglected, but he didn't want to stop drinking her blood long enough to satisfy them. That thought sobered him, forced him to pull his fangs out of her neck, and distance himself from her. As soon as he let her go, she fell to her knees on the stone floor, but her head didn't drop. She lifted her shoulders, tilting her head back, and glared at him. He stalked across the crypt, turning his back on her as he tried to get control of himself.
"Why didn't you just answer the question?" he asked in despair.
"Because I didn't want to," Willow said through clenched teeth. "It's something personal. To me! And it's none of your business."
Spike turned around, his human face back on again. He couldn't believe what he'd just done to her. Couldn't believe he'd lost control like that. "Bloody hell, Willow, I'm sorry," he said miserably. "I don't know what happened--"
"Is that what you wanted most?" she interrupted. When he remained silent, she stood up and walked over to him. "Is it?" she repeated, holding her hand to her neck to stop the blood from flowing out.
"I don't know," he confessed. "I was thinking about what my life has become, and then suddenly I couldn't stop myself from biting you. I lost control." He sincerely hoped the genie was telling the truth, that they wouldn't remember what happened when they woke up, because he couldn't lose Willow.
She turned back to the door, which was now open. "Unless you have more important biting to do, I'm leaving." She walked, unhurriedly, to the door and paused without turning around. "I really hope I don't remember this," she said.
Spike closed his eyes, cursing himself for all kinds of a fool. He started after her, saying a silent prayer that she, at least, wouldn't remember anything.
