Disclaimer: See chapter 1, 6, or 11.
PART 12
Through the heavy haze of deep sleep, Willow heard her name being called. She automatically fought the pull of reality, not wanting to lose that feeling of rightness that came with pleasant dreams. When reality hit and the dream faded, the feeling left with the memory of the images, and she didn't want to lose it this time. She wanted to stay in the dream she was currently having. Being with Spike in the distant future, together in every sense of the word. He hadn't left her, hadn't grown bored with her, or become afraid of her and her magick, her and her feelings. He hadn't wanted to leave to gain control over himself, or because someone else came along threatening their relationship.
"Willow... wake up," a voice whispered in her ear.
She felt their breath on her skin and shivered, moaning in contentment. "No," she mumbled, sighing as she rolled over, trying desperately to get the dream back. It was elusive and resisted her grasp, but she was just starting to drift back into it when the voice spoke again, accompanied by a soft kiss.
"Wake up, or else your friends are bound to find us naked, and wrapped up in a nice little package on your couch." The voice was Spike's, and he sounded very amused.
"Go away," she told him, rolling onto her back to halt his hand from tracing patterns there. "I wanna sleep."
"As much as I'd like to see Xander keel over from a heart attack, I think it'll have to wait for another day." He slapped her hip lightly, nudging her.
"Go away," she repeated, immediately feeling the loss of him when he sat up. "They're not coming over, there's no reason for them to."
"They're doing that blasted test tonight, remember? The-- oops." Now he completely left the couch.
Willow opened her eyes and rolled over to look at him. He was kneeling beside the couch, looking decidedly shamefaced. "What oops?" she asked. "What test? There's a test? I didn't study..." she frowned, pushing the last traces of sleep away and sat up. "Huh?"
"Oh," he laughed humorlessly. "Did I not tell you about that? Meant to when I came down here." His eyes slid over her body making her feel like she didn't have a stitch of clothing on.
She looked down. And no wonder. She didn't *have* a stitch of clothing on, hence the feeling. "Tell me what?" she asked. Sitting up, she pulled her knees to her chest, and crossed her feet at the ankles, trying to hide her lack of clothing. Her eyes surreptitiously searched for her clothes.
He bent down, picking something up from the floor. Her red blouse, the one she'd had on earlier, before their little romp in the... well, on the couch. She quickly shoved her arms into it and pulled it down over her, wishing it were just a little longer than hip length. Didn't cover a whole lot of her lower regions. A hand holding black jeans was suddenly right in front of her face, forcing her to look up from her fidgeting at the waist of her shirt.
"Thanks," she mumbled, biting the bullet and sliding into them while he watched. A tiny little thrill went through her at his unwavering look, but she shoved it down, way down, to the furthest reaches of wherever those bad feelings went. "Um, test?" she reminded him.
He was so busy watching her wriggle into her jeans and running his tongue along his teeth that he barely heard her. A second later, he snapped out of his reverie and looked up at her face. Yep, she wanted to say, up here, Spike, where the mouth is talking.
"Right. Test." He sat back on his heels, giving her a good view of his own nakedness. "Giles wants to test the five mile part of the bond, maybe more. But they'll be here promptly at sunset, I'm sure. Maybe before."
After mentally chastising Spike for staring, she found herself to be quite the hypocrite. Her eyes had landed somewhere near his chest when he sat back, and from there, they'd traveled down, checking out the parts she hadn't gotten to really see yet. And, wow. Pale skin, all white and muscles rippling, and lean, narrow hips leading down to... skipping right over that part, she trailed her gaze down his muscled legs, feeling a guilty pleasure sweep through her. She was ogling Spike like a piece of meat. Manmeat. Like a horse, a stud horse, only with less icky thoughts in that direction.
His words penetrated her mind seconds after he'd stopped speaking. "Oh, hey, that's a good idea," she said enthusiastically, much more so since she'd returned her gaze to his face to find him not laughing at her ogling, he wasn't even looking at her, which, yay. She frowned, realizing she hadn't once thought to test the bond. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"Possibly because you've had other things on your mind, like being punched in the face, and being stabbed--by proxy--in the stomach?" He grabbed his blue jeans and stood up, bringing his crotch right smack dab into her view. Right in her face. "And me," he chuckled, looking down at her.
She narrowed her wide-eyed stare and angled it at him. "There's that jerk part of you again." Not bothering to even look at him again, she headed upstairs to take a shower.
"Hey, forgot something," Spike called after her.
She turned to look at him, not really wanting to, but unable to stop herself. Sure enough, he was holding all her under-things, bra, panties, socks... humiliation seemed to be complete. She left him in the living room and practically dove into the bathroom. Not that she was safe from him there since he'd broken the lock the night before.
Sighing, she leaned against the bathroom door and stripped off the clothes she'd just hastily put on. She wasn't afraid of Spike, or even ashamed for having slept with him, no, what was bothering her was the complete lack of guilt, and the super wanting she had for him. Even when he was being the aforementioned jerk, she wanted him. That didn't sit well with her.
"Oy," she muttered, pushing away from the door, naked and satisfied and in no way thinking about Spike downstairs, holding her panties and bra. Turning on the water to distract herself, she stepped under the spray. Knowing it would be cold, and actually feeling that coldness were two completely different things. She screamed as the cold water stung her face and body, dripping into spots that weren't immediately sapped of their warmth. Ice water. Oh, brr, she was a Willow-sicle.
The door burst open a second later, scaring the heck out of her. She screamed and jumped back against the tiles, huddling there against the warmer-than-her tiles.
"Willow?" It was Spike's voice. Again. And he sounded a little panicked. "What happened?" The curtain was pulled roughly aside, revealing Spike clad in the same blue jeans, and black button-up shirt he'd had on earlier. It was unbuttoned, and his feet were bare. She dragged her eyes from his exposed chest to his face, and found him looking anxiously at her.
She shivered some more, and then glared. "Get out," she mumbled, straightening away from the wall. "You scared the stuffing out of me."
"The stuffing?" he scoffed, shaking his head with a laugh.
"The water's cold, I yelled, now go," she ordered, covering herself with the curtain as best she could. Her wet hair, plastered against her face was shoved impatiently out of her eyes so she could further glare at him without all the cold, wet drips down her face. So much better, now they were dripping down her back, and she had to resist arching her back to get away from the cold drips, which would probably give him the absolutely wrong impression, so she suffered in silence.
His hand snaked out, well actually it only reached out, but to her, it seemed to snake out, and without blinking an eye at the freezing cold water hitting his hand and arm, he turned the hot on. His eyes widened slightly. "Why wasn't the hot on...?" His laughter rang out as he chortled and snickered, generally annoying the heck out of her. "There was no need for all of that," he laughed, stepping into the shower with her, "all you had to do was ask."
She dropped the shower curtain and shoved at him. "Get out." When he only moved closer, ignoring the water sluicing down his back and dripping down his face, she got out instead, stepping onto the blue bath rug with a shiver. The cold air in the bathroom, from the wide open door had her reaching for a towel. "And that jerk side of yours just keeps on surfacing," she muttered, wrapping the fluffy towel around herself with a glare reserved only for the annoying vampire in front of her.
He chuckled a little more, letting her know how amused he was, like she hadn't already gotten it, and vacated the tub. "Take your shower... and, uh, try using some warm this time." So saying, he grabbed the other towel and ran it over his head as he left the room behind.
She threw the towel on the floor and resumed her shower, ever mindful of Spike and his possible entrance into the bathroom. And she in no way wanted that to happen again.
She didn't.
Willow, sitting stiffly on the couch, freshly showered, and blow dried, not to mention dressed, waited nervously for her friends to arrive. Giles had called an hour before, just as she was getting out of the shower, to let her know they'd be over as soon as Xander was off work. Xander and Buffy were going to pick Willow up while Giles and Dawn would take Spike.
Her nervousness stemmed from a few different sources. Spike, in different clothes now since his trip into her shower, was dressed in a pair of his usual black jeans and the old red button-up shirt he'd stopped wearing a few years back. He was sitting right beside her, his arm and leg practically plastered against hers as he watched TV. Looked like a British crime show, but the main character had an Irish accent, so she wasn't exactly sure. Paying more attention to Spike's closeness than the TV was the cause for this. He was just an all around distraction.
Another reason for the nervousness was seeing Xander again after their fight the night before. Especially since she had another bout of sex with Spike to throw in there for reasons why Xander should hate Spike. But, they weren't going to know about that. It was none of their business. She wasn't Anya, she didn't walk around spouting out how many times she'd had sex the night before, and in what positions. That was between her and Spike and no one else.
Another reason, maybe the biggest one, was the test. What was going to happen when they took that one final step past the five mile mark? Death? Convulsions? Maybe they'd sprout wings and fly to each other, or be magically transported to a neutral spot somewhere in between. They had no way of knowing, and the unknown had always scared Willow. Vampires, demons, monsters who sucked kid's lives from them, that she could handle. It was the not knowing that was infinitely more frightening. So this test was actually clearing up one of those fears while creating a whole new one in the process.
"Calm down," Spike told her, not even bothering to look away from the TV. "They'd never let anything happen to you. Bet they even set you up in front of the hospital, just in case."
She nodded absently, sitting up a little. "Probably." His words of assurance helped, but not in a big way. "Makes sense that they-- hey, why didn't I think of that? I usually think of this stuff." She flopped back against the couch cushions, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's probably this stupid bond's fault. It's dumbing me down. I'm losing my smarts."
Spike chuckled, turning to face her as he raised his legs on her lap and laid down. She glared at his now dry, jean-clad legs, but he ignored her for the TV where the smoking, drinking psychiatrist was arguing with a female cop that he happened to be having an affair with.
"You're not losing your smarts, Willow. I'm-- wait a minute." He turned his eyes to her, and narrowed them at her angrily. "Are you calling me stupid?"
"No, I'm calling me stupid," she corrected with a snort. "We may be bound together but we're two separate people, Spike. Two bodies, two minds."
"Yeah, right," he scoffed, glaring at her a few more seconds before switching his attention back to the show. "This bond trades your pain for my pain and vice versa. Don't go thinking it saps your smarts, dumbing you down because of me."
"I didn't--" she exhaled sharply, not wanting to argue with him. She had enough on her mind at the moment without adding an argument to it. Laying her head back, she closed her eyes, trying to calm down.
Spike's boots on her thighs were growing increasingly more uncomfortable. Just as they became achy, he removed them. The couch shifted under her as he sat up.
"Are you scared?" she asked him.
"Nope." The answer was immediate, no thinking involved. "You shouldn't be either."
"I know," she agreed, sighing. "It's just, you know, fear of the unknown. I like knowing things, being prepared. A certain amount of control is always a good thing." Opening her eyes as the doorbell rang, she inhaled deeply, then let out her breath slowly. "It's time."
Spike turned off the TV and pulled her to her feet, giving her a gentle push towards the door. "We aren't going to die, Willow." He smirked, and gave her a quick pat on the butt. "I just got somewhat implant-free, you think I'd let myself get killed now?"
Jumping slightly at the feel of his hands on her backside, she turned to glare at him. "Heck no."
"Hell no," he agreed. "Now, let's--"
The door opened and Buffy came in, looking directly and solely at Willow. "Ready?" Her eyes stayed on Willow, completely ignoring Spike, which had Willow frowning.
Spike rolled his eyes and pulled Willow along behind him. "We're ready," he answered, letting go of Willow's hand as he pushed past Buffy.
Willow locked the door behind them and shoved her keys into her pocket. She should probably get a copy made for Spike, she thought absently, joining them on the sidewalk. Spike stopped suddenly, and she ran smack into his side. He reached out to steady her and she tossed him a quick little smile. "There's that non-jerk side again."
He didn't respond, but maybe that was because all his attention was focused on glaring at the street. Willow looked up to see what had him so irritated. Xander's car was parked in front, but it was the only one there; Giles' car was nowhere to be seen.
He sighed in annoyance. "Where's Rupert?"
Buffy grabbed Willow's hand and dragged her toward Xander's car. "On his way."
Willow halted Buffy's mad dash to the car and turned back, gesturing to Spike. "Shouldn't we wait?"
Buffy shook her head. "Giles will be here in a second. You know him, he thinks the slow lane is too fast." She shot Spike a brief chilly look before settling her eyes on Willow's face again. "Spike's a big boy, Willow, he can wait alone. Come on."
Willow frowned again. If she didn't know better, she'd think Buffy was trying to avoid Spike, but that was just plain silly. "That's not the point," she chastised. "You're being rude."
"Rude?" Buffy snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Please. If this is me being rude, then what do you call what Spike tried to do to you in our dorm room?" She leaned back against the car fender, waiting. "You remember that, right? Fangs, bumpy face, evil growling?"
Willow frowned at Buffy who was looking all self-righteous and smug as her eyes darted once more to Spike, then back to Willow. Willow turned to look at Spike, who was currently the proud owner of a huge scowl, and it seemed to be aimed at Buffy. Well, now what the heck was going on with them? she wondered. "Not you too," Willow groaned. "Xander corrupted you, didn't he?" She stepped back, raising her voice to include Spike. "Look, we have to learn to get along, all right. Buffy, I'm attached to Spike for possibly ever, and that's a long time. So, accept it and move on. I have." She turned her attention to Spike. "And you--"
Buffy pushed away from the car, leaning closer to Willow as she lowered her voice. "No."
Willow stared at her with wide eyes as Xander got out of the car and stood in the open door. "What's the holdup?" he asked, looking from Willow to Buffy, not even sparing a glance in Spike's direction.
Spike returned the favor as he came over to stand beside Willow. The three occupants of the sidewalk stared at each other, ignoring Xander completely.
"No?" Willow repeated, unable to process the word correctly. No, Buffy wouldn't move on, or wouldn't accept it, or... something else altogether? "You were somewhat fine with things last night," she mumbled, trying to figure out what had happened between then and now, but she couldn't come up with anything. "What happened?"
Buffy sighed, her face softening as she dropped her defensive stance. "Nothing. I just-- nothing. Can we go now?"
Willow shook her head, not at all satisfied with Buffy's non-answer. "Funny how it's still rude," she chided Buffy. "We can wait--" a set of halogen lamps pierced the darkness, bathing them all in pools of light, forcing them to squint as the car owning them pulled up directly in front of Xander's car, parking the wrong way.
"Oh, look," Buffy pointed out unnecessarily, "Giles is here. Let's go." She hurried to the passenger's side door and waited for Willow to join her.
The headlights cut off, and Giles leaned out of his open window and gestured for Spike to get in.
"Giles," Xander called out, "you do realize that you're in America now, don't you? We drive on the right side of the road here."
"No, you drive on the wrong side of the road here," Spike tossed back, beating Giles to the punch. Giles looked a bit disappointed as he ducked his head back in the window.
Willow, feeling an even deeper sense of doom, tossed an apologetic look to her friends and ran over to Spike, stopping him in front of Giles' car. "Wait."
He halted and turned, rolling his eyes at her good-naturedly. "Told you before, Willow, you're not going to die."
She nodded, not completely sure of that herself, and took a few steps closer, not wanting everyone listening to their conversation. "Just... do me a favor? Don't die?"
He laughed and sat down on the hood of Giles' sporty red car, hooking a boot on the fender. "Do I look like the suicidal sort?"
"Of course not," she said, dismissing the comment with a wave of her hand. "But, this is Sunnydale, and an unknown bond thing... and you aren't exactly known for being the careful type."
He nodded seriously and reached for her hand, pulling her closer to him, until her knees touched the bumper and she could feel the heat the car was giving off as it idled. "I'm not the careful type," he agreed, "but I'm also not careless. I look out for myself. It's kind of my number one priority most times." His eyebrows raised, waiting for her acknowledgment, when she gave it, he stood up and pulled her closer.
"Hey," Xander yelled angrily, and she tried to pull away, to unwrap her own arms from around Spike's waist, but he held her still.
Unbelievably, it was Buffy who halted Xander's possible mad dash to tear them apart. "Leave them alone," she told him in no uncertain terms.
"But," Xander protested, his voice almost a whine.
"Xander," Buffy warned, but that was all Willow heard, though she could imagine Buffy giving him one of her silencing looks.
Willow sighed against Spike's chest, feeling quite content to stay there forever, wrapped up in the comforting arms of the man she... cared about. Just a little, she admitted.
When she relaxed against him, he groaned, tightening his arms around her as his voice whispered in her ear, husky and full of promise. "You have no idea how much I want you, do you?"
So stunned and startled at the feelings the question sent fluttering through her, she pulled back, and got another shock, one she could've lived without. Apparently, when she'd pulled away, she'd moved so quickly that she'd taken Spike by surprise, because he had to drag his eyes from where they were fixed to Buffy's face. When his eyes finally dropped to Willow's, there was a whole lot of wariness there. She dropped her arms and stepped away from him, hurt causing her throat to tighten and her chest to feel heavy.
Not wanting to look, but needing to, she turned her head, seeing Buffy standing beside Xander at the driver's side door, her eyes on them, her face blank. That meant she was hiding something. Keeping something to herself. And Willow had an idea that that something had to do with Spike.
"I've gotta go," she told him, thinking to make a hasty exit. But then she remembered why they were there, and what they were doing, and there was no hastiness involved in her exit. She was happy they weren't going to the same place, because she really wanted to be away from him right now. "You should go," she said, gesturing to Giles and Dawn. "They're waiting."
"Are you--" he began, but Willow ignored him, walking stiffly away, feeling as if her body was hardening with each step she took. And when she reached the car door, she just knew she was going to break into a million pieces and drop to the sidewalk, to be crunched under boot heels and stray tires, possibly a kid's bouncing ball. But she didn't shatter, her hand closed on the door handle and pulled it open without a problem. Climbing inside, she shut the door with a quiet, but firm click and stared out the side window.
Xander climbed in behind the steering wheel, unaware that anything had happened. Unaware that Willow's heart was starting to feel painfully empty. Buffy went around the car, circling in front of it, and Willow tried not to look, but she couldn't keep her eyes from darting out the windshield. She caught a furtive glance between Buffy and Spike, which turned into a glare from both of them.
When she forced herself to look fully at Spike, she saw the blank impassiveness she was used to seeing from him before the bond started. His eyes bored into hers as he stared through the windshield, straight at her. Or so she imagined. Returning her eyes to the side window, she ignored him, and waited for Xander to start the car and leave. As soon as Buffy's door shut, Xander started the car, but didn't immediately leave.
He grabbed something from beside him, and held it to his mouth as it crackled and hissed before falling quiet. "This is Red Eagle, calling the Penis-mobile. I repeat, this is Red Eagle calling the Penis-mobile." His chortling laughter normally would've had Willow snorting with laughter herself, but she couldn't find anything stronger than a strained smile to toss at him when he looked into the rearview mirror at her.
"Xander," Buffy gasped, smacking him on the arm. "My sister's in that car. She's listening to the walkie talkie... heck, she's probably controlling the thing. So, there'll be no penis talk around her. Ever."
Xander groaned, dropping his head back onto the headrest. "Fine, fine, no penis talk, but what do you suggest I call him?"
The radio crackled, then Dawn's voice, sounding tinny and far away, came over the walkie talkie. "Giles asks that you please not say that ever again," she giggled, sticking her hand out the back window and waving at them.
All eyes were suddenly riveted to Giles' car as he turned in his seat toward the back, where Dawn was sitting. The walkie talkie went from static, to silence a few times, and then Giles' broken words cut through. "..this thing. Can't--" static. "... hold this one?" More static, and then Dawn's voice as well as Spike's came over the walkie.
"No, Giles, hold the blue one down. Let go of the--" Dawn was trying not to laugh as she explained how to use the walkie talkie, but they could all hear it, even across the radio.
"--a bloody button down, you stupid git?" Spike growled, and Willow lifted her eyes to him. She couldn't see him clearly in the darkness, but she could see him enough to know that he was stretched out in his seat, looking bored. Inside, he was probably seething. It was just a gut feeling. Or maybe it was because that's how he'd always looked to her.
"Let's just go," Giles' voice snapped over the walk talkie, startling her out of her musings. Her eyes focused once again, and she found herself staring straight at Spike. As they drove past Giles' car, she felt his eyes on her, but refused to look.
The drive to their destination was a quiet one for Willow, as she contemplated this new news. No, not new, old news really. She'd known he was in love with Buffy, but that he'd stared over at Buffy while touching her, holding her, whispering words to her... it hurt. So much. So much more than it should.
Buffy turned in her seat once to ask her if she was all right. Willow nodded and smiled until Buffy accepted her answer and turned back around in her seat with a slightly less worried frown. The truth was that she was so far from being okay. Once again, she'd done the wrong thing by letting her heart lead her into waters best not traversed. Again. Thankfully she'd found out in time, before her heart was more involved than it was.
Glancing out the window at the nighttime scenery flying by, she listened to Xander and Dawn tell jokes to each other on the walkie talkies, and tried not to think. That lasted all of ten seconds. If she was completely honest with herself, what hurt most was that Spike hadn't pretended to care about her at all as he seduced her and manipulated her into his bed. She'd just assumed he felt something. Assumed he was trying not to think of Buffy while touching Willow, trying not to look at Buffy as he whispered in Willow's ear. Hers, damn it. Not Buffy's.
A few minutes later, she realized they were slowing down, and parking. Looking at her surroundings, she had to laugh harshly. They were in the parking lot of the hospital, just like Spike had predicted. Too bad he hadn't predicted her... what? Heartbreak? No, not a broken heart, just a slightly bruised one. Scratched and banged up a little.
Taking a deep breath, wanting this over as soon as possible so she could get back home to be alone, maybe eat a pint or two of ice cream, she left the relative safety of the backseat and stood there, looking around. She'd expected to feel a worsening of anxiety the further they got from each other, maybe an internal warning system, but there was nothing. Not even a tingling.
Just as she started to move away from the car to join Xander and Buffy, they jumped forward, halting her progress.
"No! Stay right there," Buffy told her, physically holding her arm to keep her still.
"We've got this mapped out to exactly five miles," Xander explained, pointing at the ground with the walkie talkie. "When Giles and Spike are in place, we'll very slowly, and very carefully walk with you. Just... wait." He held his hands out soothingly, as if she were a savage beast about to attack him.
She smiled a little, for real this time, and leaned back against the car door. "Okay, staying in this spot until further notice," she told them. Looking curiously at the numbered markings on the ground, she had to wonder when they'd had the time to come out here and mark this parking lot with chalk. Pink chalk. "Does Spike get blue chalk?" she asked with a chuckle.
"Yep," Buffy answered, "although, Xander tried to make me use pink." She grinned sideways at Xander.
"It was the least I could do for him," Xander tossed back, completely serious. "I mean, seriously, what do you get for the vampire who 'accidentally' sexes up your best friend?" Lifting the walkie talkie, he moved slightly away from them. "Giles?"
As the walkie talkie crackled to life, Buffy nudged Willow's arm to get her to look up from her sudden perusal of her shoes. "You okay? Did something happen earlier?" She frowned, like she was unsure if she should interfere or not, then gave in and did just that. "Did Spike say or do something to you?" She leaned closer conspiratorially. "'Cause, I can't beat him up anymore, but I could give you an Indian Rub that'll make him smart a little."
Willow snorted in amusement and smiled at Buffy. "No, he didn't do or say anything wrong. I'm just nervous," she lied, and rather expertly if Buffy's acceptance was any indication. "Um, I was wondering sort of the same thing. Did something happen between you and Spike last night?"
Buffy's head shot up and her eyes darted from Willow's face to her own hands before moving over to Xander a few feet away. "Why? I mean, what do you mean?"
"Oh, that's reassuring," Willow laughed, the tight knot in her stomach growing bigger. "It's just that... when we talked last night, in the bathroom, you said you were sort of okay with the whole me and Spike thing. Not that you were really, really happy and glow-y about it, but, you know, you said you were okay with it. And that you wouldn't be terribly opposed to Spike and I dating if that's what we wanted, as funny as that is, but now..." she trailed off, hoping Buffy would take up the slack and deny it. Deny it all, and tell Willow that nothing whatsoever had happened between her and Spike. That she was being silly.
Buffy didn't deny it. She nodded, and once again dropped her eyes to her hands, then raised them with a sigh. "It wasn't just a random vampire that I saw Angel in last night. That I kissed. It was--"
"Spike," Willow whispered, hating herself for the twinge of jealousy that shot through her. Hating herself also because it didn't go away, it actually stuck around and decided to invite its friends, envy and paranoia. "You kissed Spike."
"Yeah, and it really took me aback. I mean, more than aback, I was all... aside and a-front too." Her voice lowered enough to keep the conversation between just the two of them. "What freaked me out more than anything, even more than the fact that I threw myself at Spike was that he didn't take advantage of the situation. Forcing me to realize that he's not as bad as I've always made him out to be. Though he's still evil," she added.
Willow frowned, positive she'd heard Buffy wrong. Spike hadn't taken advantage of Buffy while she was vulnerable and kissing him? Kissing him with all the love she felt for Angel? "Really?" she asked skeptically, not allowing herself to believe it. Even if it was true, so what? What did it mean except that he wasn't stupid enough to tick Buffy off. "He was probably trying to get on your good side," she said softly. "He's smart enough to know that a small instant of pleasure isn't going to end well after your memory returned, so he twisted it to make himself look good, hoping it would help his cause in the long run."
Buffy was shaking her head before Willow even got through the first sentence. "No, after a year of watching him do just that, I know the difference between manipulation and reality. This was real, because he was angry with himself for stopping the kiss. I didn't see it right away, but afterwards, when I had time to think about it, I know I saw self recrimination."
Willow still didn't believe it. She'd seen the look on his face as he gazed at Buffy, the want and need in his voice, and knew it had to have been directed at Buffy as much as his look was. Nodding and smiling, a favorite pastime of hers lately, she raised her voice. "Are they ready yet?"
Xander held up a finger and continued to listen to the walkie talkie, which was pressed tightly against his ear. She could barely hear it from her spot a few feet away, and thought maybe the distance was too great for them to work perfectly. Should've bought the expensive ones, she thought absently.
"Willow," Buffy said softly, tossing a quick look Xander's way. Seeing he was still occupied, she continued. "I didn't intend for it to happen, and I don't think it changes anything between you two, so whatever is there... it's still there. You know, if anything is there."
"I know," Willow told her. "But, there's nothing there, so there's nothing to worry about."
Buffy nodded, though Willow could see she was far from convinced. "Okay. If that's how it is..."
"It is," Willow said, her smiling straining to the point of breaking. "So, when does this show get on the road?"
"And that, dear ladies, is the question of the day. Or, night," Xander said, joining them again. He held the walkie talkie up, glaring at it with eyes filled with disappointment. "This stupid thing isn't exactly old reliable, but it works. It's just a little faint sounding is all."
"Are they ready?" Buffy asked, positioning herself at the long five mile chalk mark drawn at the end of a parking space. Facing Willow, she breathed in deeply, looking ready to take on a football team of vampires.
"Yep. Just waiting on us to assume the position," Xander answered, doing just that. He positioned himself on one side of Buffy, leaving a space between them for Willow to walk through. "Whenever you're ready, Willow. But, just... tell us before you go."
Feeling so much like a baby about to take her first steps, Willow informed them, "I'm about to move my right leg. I repeat, I am about to move my right leg."
They both grinned at her, and relaxed their postures. "Okay," Buffy laughed. "We get it. Overreaction gal and guy are gone."
"Yeah, completely sort of not all the way gone," Xander agreed. "But, you know, we just don't want anything to happen to you is all."
"I know," Willow told them, grateful to have friends like them, friends that cared about her and wanted to take care of her. "And I'm appreciative, really, but could you maybe not make me even more nervous than I already am?"
They consulted each other, frowning and gesturing to one another, before nodding in agreement. "Yeah, we can do that," Xander agreed.
"I think so, yeah," Buffy added.
"Okay, I know you're trying to make this easier, and make me laugh and lighten up and relax, but I gotta tell you. Not gonna happen."
"No?" Xander inquired, frowning.
"Not so much," Willow told him. "Can I move now?" Without waiting for an answer, she walked calmly over to them, stopping just before the chalk mark. The part of the parking lot they were in was deserted now, and probably didn't get a lot of traffic during the day, since it was in the very back of the hospital, as far away as possible, almost to the street. However, she couldn't help wondering, then asking, how the chalk marks had remained there with all the driving over that had to have occurred at least a little, not to mention the asphalt was darkened with water. But, the chalk mark was there, all pink and perfect.
"Magick," Buffy answered, shrugging lightly. "Giles enchanted the chalk to stay until we say the magick word, releasing it back into the wild."
"Oh, neat," she said, smiling at them as they waited patiently. "Magick chalk. Ooo, like Simon."
Buffy looked back and forth between them in confusion. "Who's Simon?"
Xander laughed, nearly giggling as he sang, "Hello my name is Simon, and I like to do draw-rings." His horribly massacred British accent had them all giggling by the time he was done. "The chalk kid from Captain Kangaroo! He was so cool."
"What's happening over there?" Giles asked, his faint voice crackling over the walkie talkie. "We're waiting for Willow to make the first move."
Xander lifted the walkie talkie to his mouth, still grinning, but no longer laughing. "Sorry, she's nervous, we're just trying to get her to relax. She's about to go now."
"All right--" Giles sent back.
"Good luck, Willow!" Dawn yelled quickly, finishing just as the button was released.
Willow opened her mouth to tell them she was moving, but then decided to just do it. Go for it before her nerves got the better of her. She took one, then two steps up to the line, and kept on going for five steps. A feeling she was somehow familiar with flowed through her from head to foot. It wasn't something she knew, or had felt before, but it was definitely familiar. And yet, she felt no different than normal, there was no impending doom rushing through her any longer. Smiling widely, thinking maybe they'd gotten off lucky with this part of the bond, she turned toward her friends, walking backward.
"Nothing," she laughed, holding her hands out from her sides. "Nothing's happening."
"Willow, stop!" Giles yelled over the walkie talkie, and her blood ran cold.
Not only did she stop walking, but she stopped breathing as well. Stopped trying to act like Spike didn't matter to her. Stopped lying to herself about a lot of things. "Spike?" she whispered. "Is he okay?"
Xander and Buffy ran over to her, Buffy holding her hand reassuringly as Xander tried to get hold of Giles. "It's okay, Willow. I'm sure he's fine." Even so, Buffy watched Willow's face for a sign of pain or distress, ready to pick her up and run with her to the hospital if anything happened.
"Giles!" Xander yelled for the third time, slapping the walkie talkie against his hand when there was nothing but static on the other end. Walking away from them, toward the car, he pushed the button again, demanding a response from Giles. "Answer me, damn it, Giles. Willow's about to lose it here."
"... is fine. A vampire-- us-- took care of it. Everything's fine now. Do you copy?" Giles demanded right back.
"We copy," Xander said, a sigh of relief working its way past his lips, and Willow and Buffy followed suit. "And next time? Don't freakin' scare us like that again!" he yelled.
"Well I'm so very sorry my bodily beating got in the way of holding your hand," Giles snapped back. "Next time I'll make sure to drag my bruised and bloodied body to the walkie talkie to keep you apprised of the situation."
"He does sarcasm way to well," Buffy snorted, yanking the walkie talkie out of Xander's hand as he was about to smash it against the hood of his car. "We still need it," she remarked, pushing the button and bringing it to her mouth. "Is Spike past the marker?" she asked.
Willow didn't care at this point. All she cared about was that Spike was all right. Not dead. Not laying on the ground, convulsing and bleeding from his ears. Releasing her fear wasn't an easy thing to do, and she really had to work hard not to drop to her knees, sobbing. Instead of being weak, she straightened her back and bolstered her courage, preparing to begin her walk again.
"No," Dawn answered, "hold on for a second." Silence descended, then she came back on, considerably more subdued than she'd been in the car. "Giles is hurt," she informed them. "A vampire attacked us, but Spike killed it. Giles--"
"Is he all right?" Buffy asked, her voice thick with worry. "Does he need help?"
"No," Dawn answered, her own voice shaking a bit. "Um, he says he's fine, but--" she lowered her voice, obviously not wanting Giles to hear her. "Spike thinks his arm his broken. Giles' arm, not Spike's."
Buffy bit her lip in indecision, but before she could settle on a course of action, Giles was back on the walkie talkie.
"I'm fine. Let's get the test over with, and then I'll make my weekly visit to hospital." His voice was strained, his teeth practically grinding. "Spike's in place, is Willow?"
"Um," Buffy looked over at Willow to see her still in the same spot. "Yeah, she's past the marker."
Willow took one step away from her friends, and then another, and another. Once again the familiar feeling shot through her, and she was left to wonder at it. "Still nothing," she informed them. "I don't think--" suddenly, all the air rushed out of her in one breath and she fell to her knees, very much like she hadn't wanted to do earlier. Pain shot through her eyes and burrowed deep into her brain, forcing a cry of agony out of her mouth.
Both Buffy and Xander rushed to her aid, Xander yelling over the walkie talkie while Buffy helped her up, dragging her back the way she'd come, but it was too late. The link was now complete, in every way possible. She could hear Spike's thoughts, feel his emotions, and feel the pain in his head from the chip... and then it was gone, and she was alone again. "I think-- I think that whatever that was, it's gone now," she whispered through a throat raw from screaming.
"You ask me, you think too much sometimes," Spike told her solemnly.
She stopped and looked around, already knowing she wouldn't see him. He was still five miles away, it was just his thoughts she could hear.
"Not completely done," she sighed, resting her head on Xander's shoulder.
"Are you all right?" Xander asked gently, brushing a lock of hair from her cheek.
They both watched her anxiously as she straightened up and took a deep breath. "I'm fine, but you need to not touch me. Spike doesn't like it."
Xander frowned angrily. "First of all, so what? Second of all, how the hell does he know I was touching you?"
Buffy looked around cautiously, as if Spike, fangs and claws flashing, was about to hop out of the darkness and attack them. "Good questions."
An exhausted sigh worked its way past her lips. "When we were first bound together, we could read each other's minds, hear each other's thoughts. This is sort of like that, only stronger. Not only do I hear his thoughts, and vice versa, but I feel them."
"Feel them?" Buffy repeated. "You feel his thoughts, or you feel what he feels along with a certain thought?"
"Bingo on the second one, Slayer." Willow raised an eyebrow at them.
"Wow, Will, that was a really scary impression of Spike you did there." Xander took a step away from her, and then another as she laughed, not entirely in a Willow-like way. "Let's not do that often, hmm?"
"Spike, get out of my head," Willow ground out, closing her eyes tightly, fighting the urge to punch Xander. "I am not hitting him," she said in exasperation.
"Ruin my fun," Spike chided her, sighing heavily.
She rolled her eyes and stood up. "Spike, get out of my-- hey!" Her hand shot out and settled on Buffy's shoulder. As with the last time this had happened, Willow hadn't been the one to move her hand. "No feeling Buffy up in my body, Spike!" Her anger got through to him, and he removed her hand, leaving it alone.
"Relax," Spike sighed, his words lingering in her mind like a caress. "I had to check out how far this thing went." His voice turned lecherous and she could just imagine the smirk on his face. "You're lucky I didn't make you touch yourself," he laughed.
"Yeah, well," she huffed, ignoring Buffy and Xander as she stalked toward the marking line. "Maybe I should make you touch yourself, you pervert."
"Go ahead," he chuckled, "give Dawn and Giles a nice show."
Tired of arguing with him, and not really in the mood for it, she ignored him as well. A few seconds later, as she neared the car, she felt a tugging on her mind, she closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to figure out what it was and where it was coming from. Was it magick, or the bond? As she followed the tenuous thread connecting her mind with Spike's, she heard his thoughts growing louder, drowning out her own until they faded again, and she was alone. Thank goodness. Opening her eyes, she mumbled, "If that's all we get when we're too far apart, we definitely got off lucky-- Ahh!"
Dawn and Giles were there, in the parking lot-- no, not a parking lot. They were in an alley. A nice dark alley, with pastel blue chalk markings all around them. Dawn was kneeling beside Giles, who was cradling his left arm close to his chest. His very broken, and bloody left arm.
Both of them were now staring at her as well. Spike wasn't usually one to scream, so it had to be a little odd seeing and hearing him do just that. Seeing the pain on Giles' face though, she momentarily let the being-in-Spike's-body part go, and ran over to join them, dropping to her knees in front of Giles.
"Oh, God, Giles, are you all right? Ew, that looks really gross," she commented, wincing in sympathy at the gash and bulging bone sticking out of his forearm. "Definitely broken," she muttered. "Um, I could try to do a healing spell," she told him, raising her hands and letting them hover over his arm for a second before dropping them back to her thighs, "but I'm afraid I won't be able to set it right and then you'd have to have it re-broken, which, ow, so, I think hospital instead."
Both Dawn and Giles were still staring at her in open-mouthed shock, not wrapping their minds around the situation as quickly as she had. Giles climbed laboriously to his feet, still staring at her. Dawn followed suit, as did Willow. Dawn lifted the walkie talkie to her mouth, eyes still fixed to Willow's face. Though, that would be Spike's face, wouldn't it?
"Buffy, Xander... is-- is Spike there with you?" she asked casually.
Buffy's voice came on, slightly breathless. Oh, God, what if she'd just fought Spike and killed him? Hurt him? "He's..." Buffy giggled, and Willow's eyes widened. "He's here," she laughed, "and he seems to have brought a little something along with him." She paused and then they all heard Willow's voice cussing them out in a nifty new British accent.
Willow grabbed the walkie talkie from Dawn's loose hand and walked a few feet away from them, feeling really peculiar in Spike's body. Her stride was much longer, and things were there that didn't use to be... not on her anyway. "Buffy, um... is everyone all right?" she asked softly, hardly noticing Spike's deep, rich, unaccented voice coming through instead of her own.
Buffy laughed a quick yes before breaking off into more gales of laughter. "I'm sorry, Willow," she gasped, "I just can't help it. He's-- well, you're pacing back and forth, and growling, and it's really, really funny."
Willow thought that was debatable, but that was because she had a little inside information. "Buffy, Spike's a vampire."
"Duh," was Buffy's overly simplistic answer, but then she stopped laughing and calmed down considerably. "Oh. Xander, you might want to stop taunting Spike. 'Cause he's-- hey!"
"Willow," her own voice crackled over the walkie talkie, British accent sounding a little weird, "I want my own body back. Undo whatever you did."
"I didn't do anything, Spike. I think it's part of the bond." She tossed a quick look toward Giles, who was looking way too pale, and Dawn, who was equally as pale as she tried to wrap a silk scarf she'd been wearing, around the wound. "Giles needs to go to the hospital, so I think we're on our way over there."
"First," Giles gasped, as Dawn tightened the scarf, "first, we need to try to reverse this... thing. Go back to the five mile mark, and tell Spike to do the same." He smiled encouragingly at Dawn who was looking quite shaken after her nursing duties.
"Are you sure?" Willow asked uncertainly. He nodded and she sighed, pressing the blue button on the walkie talkie. "Spike, go back to the five mile mark, that might reverse it. Or so Giles thinks."
"Sure, pawn the blame off on me in case it doesn't work," Giles laughed weakly, gulping a few times.
Dawn tossed her an impatient and worried frown, looking so much like Buffy caught in a moment of indecision, that Willow had to smile as she joined them at the five mile mark.
"He'll be okay," she assured Dawn, though she was less sure of that than she'd been a minute go. He was going into shock. Pressing the button again, she informed the others that she was in position.
"Bloody hell," her voice growled back. "It's not happening, Willow. Do something," he ordered.
"Fine," she sighed back. "Giles, gimme your keys. Dawn, get in the car." Sliding a shoulder under Giles' unhurt arm, she helped him to the car, setting him gently in the front seat as Dawn climbed in back. Willow climbed in behind the steering wheel, strapping herself in and starting the car. She looked around the dark alley, preparing to back out, but not knowing which way to go. "Uh, where are we?"
"Fifth and Vine," Dawn answered, anxiously sitting forward in her seat. "Hurry, Willow."
"Don't crash us please," Giles gasped out. "I'd like to keep this car."
"Oh, please," Willow muttered, backing expertly out of the alley to the right, and shifting into gear, pulling out onto the street. "Unlike Anya, I actually *have* a license."
"*Now* he lets me drive his new car," Spike mumbled in her head. Spotting the walkie talkie in Dawn's hand by her head, she realized he wasn't in her head anymore. Just on the walkie talkie.
"Shut up, Spike," Giles ground out, shifting toward the door to keep his arm from jarring on the seat as they went over bumps.
"Shut up, Spike," Dawn said into the walkie talkie, before releasing the button. Half a second later, she pressed it again, and added, "Giles' words, not mine." Again she released the button, and again she pressed it and added, "Although, yeah, hello, shut up, Spike."
Willow glanced back at Dawn in the rearview mirror wondering what had her so ticked off at Spike this time. "Dawnie?" Returning her eyes to the road, she alternately watched Dawn sigh and roll her eyes, and kept a close watch on where she was headed.
"What?" Dawn huffed. "He's a jerk. One minute he's in love with Buffy, the next he's sleeping with you."
Sighing heavily, Willow glued her eyes to the road again. "That was--"
"An accident," Giles and Dawn repeated together.
Now it was Willow's turn to huff. "Well it was. We were both asleep, it wasn't like we planned it."
Dawn snorted rudely, leaning forward again. "I know how sex works, Willow. And I really don't think it can happen accidentally."
"Well," Willow admitted, "I thought he was Oz. He thought... actually, I don't know what he thought, but by the time I realized who he was, it was too late, and–"
"Oh, God, kill me now," Giles groaned, though not in pain this time. The look of distaste and disgust on his face was enough to make both girls laugh.
"Sorry, Giles. I'm just saying, it wasn't intentional." One by one she rubbed her hands, which had started to tingle a little bit during her explanation, onto Spike's jeans, wincing as the sensitive flesh touched the rough fabric. "Are vampires super sensitive to touch?" she asked Giles.
He frowned, shaking his head at her. "No, not really. At least, I've never heard it mentioned before. I believe it's just their eyes, ears, and smell." His eyes fell to her hands, which were barely touching the wheel now. "Is something wrong?"
Holding the steering wheel with only her fingertips helped, but it left a lot of control behind. They were halfway to the hospital, and no traffic was around on the side streets she was taking, but she still wasn't comfortable with the little bit of control she now had over the car. The tingling in her hands had grown, and by now she could hardly stand to have them touching air, let alone anything else.
"Willow?" Dawn called, tapping her on the shoulder. "Want me to ask Spike?"
Shrugging out from under Dawn's touch, she shook her head. "No, this isn't normal. Don't touch me, Dawnie, it hurts." Pulling quickly to the side of the road, she jumped out of the car, about to go nuts from the overwhelming sensitivity to everything touching her, including clothes. She was a guy now, so shirtless was okay for her, right? Trying to unbutton the red shirt, she fumbled with the top button before finally giving up with a groan.
"Dawn, unbutton my shirt please. Hurry." When Dawn didn't move right away, Willow snapped at her. "Now, damn it!" Immediately feeling contrite, she apologized and shifted from foot to foot. "Please, Dawn."
"Um," Dawn stalled, looking to Giles, who nodded his ascent. "Okay, but... don't vamp out on me, all right?"
"Couldn't if I tried," Willow told her, debating on whether or not to remove her boots as well. "Spike's the vampire, not me."
Dawn's eyes widened as she went to work on the small red buttons on Spike's shirt. "Are Buffy and Xander okay with him? He-- he won't hurt them, right?"
Impatient with Dawn's carefully controlled fingers working the buttons of Spike's shirt, Willow grabbed it by the collar and tore it off of her in one fell swoop. "I don't think he will," she assured Dawn, feeling an immediate relief as air hit her skin rather than cloth. The relief was short-lived. Her legs were starting to tingle and she knew she'd be having to remove them soon as well. Time to go. "What's going on?" she groaned, then turned back to Giles. Tossing him the car keys, she backed away, gasping with each movement that brought cloth in touch with skin. "Something's seriously wrong. I–- I have to go. I have to find Spike."
"Why?" he asked, climbing out of the car to circle around it. "If he's in the same shape as you, you can't help him."
She shook her head, knowing deep down in her gut that the only way to stop whatever it was from happening, was to touch Spike. "He'll help," she tossed back, slowly backing away, crossing the street as she talked. "The other restriction of the bond is to touch each other once a week. I think I have to go touch Spike."
"Ew," Dawn shuddered, looking almost as disgusted as Giles.
"Go," Giles told her. "We'll be all right." When she hesitated for a second, he picked up the walkie talkie from the seat. "I'll call Xander. Go."
She nodded, and was gone, running through the park toward the hospital. Each step she took jarred her, sending shots of electricity through her body, becoming more and more uncomfortable the further she got. Still, Spike was taller than her, and physically stronger, so she made good time, and hit the parking lot just a few minutes later. A few yards had trampled flowers in their gardens, and maybe a dog might've been let out through a fence that hadn't gotten closed, but she made it.
Xander's car was nowhere in sight, and neither was Spike.
"Damn it," she yelled in frustration, leaning over with her hands on her thighs to catch her breath. As soon as her palms touched the jeans, she screamed. Holding out her hands, palm up, she saw angry, raw, red flesh. They looked like they'd been burned, but without the blisters. The pain was similar too, and her legs and feet were feeling the same way. She had to find Spike. Now.
"My house," she realized. Turning around on the small grassy knoll that ran along the sidewalk and parking lot, she ran face first into a low hanging tree branch. "Ow." That didn't quite capture the pain she felt at the moment, so she stomped her foot, and slid down the hill to land on her butt. Unable to rub the offending parts of her anatomy without hurting herself, she screamed out her frustration and anger. Spike was sure to have a big hulking bruise on his face from that stupid branch. This night was turning out to be one of the worst of her life. Her anger was boiling over, and the branch had to be the one to pay the price. She flung her hand out, muttering words she didn't even know she knew, and the branch broke off and went flying, impaling itself through a car's windshield across the street, setting off the alarm.
Laying backward on the hill, for just a second before pushing herself to her feet and heading toward her house, she let out a sigh that would've done Dizzy Gillespie proud. And then she jumped up and took off running. She was almost in agony now. If she hadn't been extremely aware of the night creatures and even the human night dwellers of this town, she'd have shed every scrap of clothing Spike had on, but she was, so she didn't.
"He better appreciate this," she mumbled, jumping over a lawn chair in the backyard she was currently trespassing in. A dog, in the yard next door, followed her along the chain link fence, barking every inch of the way. Paying it no more attention than she would a flea, she continued on her trek through the finest and not-so finest backyards of Sunnydale.
As she neared her own block, she charged through the park, rounding a stand of trees and running straight into herself. Both she and Spike fell to the grass, staring at each other for only a split second before jumping at each other.
"It hurts," she whispered, running her hands along Spike's arms. "It hurts. Why does it hurt?"
"Don't know," he mumbled back, kissing her frantically, pressing as close to her as he possibly could. "Thought I was gonna go insane."
"My hands are raw, and... ow." Feeling a slight lessening of the pain, she pulled away, showing him her-- his hands. He lifted one of them, tracing a finger down the palm, which was no longer as red as it was before. His touch left a trail of cooled skin in its wake. "Oh, that feels good," she encouraged, urging him to touch her some more. Her eyes slid shut at the relief pouring through her entire body just from his touch. "So good."
"Mm," he agreed, leaning forward to kiss her again. She didn't pull away or stop, she had no intention of doing that, in fact. Not when it promised cooling relief. His hands trailed down her face and arms, and neither one stopped to ponder the fact that they were essentially touching themselves.
"Gives the phrase, 'touching yourself' a whole new meaning, doesn't it?" he chuckled in her ear.
Well, okay, she didn't stop to ponder it, but apparently he had. Sliding her hands up Spike's neck and back down his shoulders, she moaned, a sense of urgency pouring through her. Kissing him fully, she pressed up against him, feeling her new penis hardening the more he touched her. She held back a giggle at the thought, and concentrated on the feelings he was invoking, because wow, were they awesome.
Laying back on the grass, she pulled him down on top of her, and rolled over, so she was on top. If they were going to do this, and they definitely were, then she wanted to be in charge. Had to be a guy thing. She reached down, ripping open her jeans, feeling her erection pop free of its confines. Unable to stop herself, she looked down and took a gander at herself. "Wow, I'm big," she muttered.
Spike burst out laughing, and she was a little amazed at how sexy his laughter sounded when it was wrapped around her voice. Her stomach fluttered, like it always did when he was... well, nowadays it happened whenever he was near it seemed. Was this simply her own reaction to him, or was it his reaction to her?
Spike's hands worked at the buttons of his jeans, shoving them down his hips at the same time as she pulled hers down. She kissed him, tasting what he tasted when he kissed her, feeling what he felt when he touched her, and was closer to him in that moment, despite the body switch, than she'd ever been to anyone else. Walking in someone else's shoes was a very intimate experience.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and prepared to have her first penis experience. Just as she was opening her eyes, a feeling of vertigo went through her and the world went blurry, then shifted. A moment later, the world righted itself, and she was staring up at Spike in his own body. Neither one paused to take in this new information, Spike thrust inside of her, and rolled over, letting her have a go at being on top.
By this time, with all the extra sensory feelings shooting through the both of them, and the intimacy of sharing a body, in more ways than one, they were moving frantically against each other. Mating, not making love. She lifted herself up and down on him, settling her hands behind him on his raised thighs as she moved, using him for leverage, which didn't work that well.
She moaned in frustration, needing touch more than friction. Leaning down to press herself against him fully, she settled her mouth roughly over his. He rolled them over and thrust quickly into her, setting up a quick pace that she matched and met with a gasp. She wasn't far from orgasm, and having been in his body, she knew he wasn't either. Helping both of them along, she caressed every inch of bare flesh she could reach, which, was quite a bit since she'd just made a mad dash through town shirtless. He touched her as well, his fingers moving with a little less gentleness, and a lot more skill.
A minute later, they both found release, and arched into each other before collapsing. Silence descended as they calmed down, coming off that sexual, and magickal high. Spike lifted himself off of her, and rolled to the grass beside her, lifting his hips to pull up his pants.
Willow slid hers up as well, buttoning them with shaking fingers. The pain was gone completely now, and they were back in there bodies, but once again they'd ended up sleeping together. She'd vowed not to do that again until she was sure he was at least trying to get over Buffy. Vowed to herself that she wouldn't let him slip into her heart and break it, but after tonight, she knew it was too late for that. He was already there, and setting up camp.
Spike sat up beside her, lifting his knees and settling his forearms on them, hanging his head to stare at the grass. "God, that was--"
"The pain is mostly gone," she said quietly, not caring to hear his thoughts on the matter right now. They'd deal with this later. And his Buffy obsession too. Maybe. "I guess all we needed to do was... touch."
Spike chuckled flatly, sighing as he looked away. "I was doing just fine without the added encouragement."
She stood up, smoothing down her blouse. "I should go check on Giles." Squinting into the darkness, she kicked lightly at the ground beneath her feet. "He looked pretty bad when I... oh, God, I just left them there."
Spike stood up as well, avoiding looking at her just as much as she was avoiding him. "Giles called Xander to go get them. They're fine."
She nodded, chancing a look at him. He was frowning, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his back jean pocket. Huh, she hadn't even realized they were there, otherwise she may have thrown them out. Pointing in the direction of the hospital, she shrugged. "I should go."
"Yeah," he agreed, drawing in a lungful of smoke. "Think I'll walk you. Don't wanna experience that again anytime soon."
PART 12
Through the heavy haze of deep sleep, Willow heard her name being called. She automatically fought the pull of reality, not wanting to lose that feeling of rightness that came with pleasant dreams. When reality hit and the dream faded, the feeling left with the memory of the images, and she didn't want to lose it this time. She wanted to stay in the dream she was currently having. Being with Spike in the distant future, together in every sense of the word. He hadn't left her, hadn't grown bored with her, or become afraid of her and her magick, her and her feelings. He hadn't wanted to leave to gain control over himself, or because someone else came along threatening their relationship.
"Willow... wake up," a voice whispered in her ear.
She felt their breath on her skin and shivered, moaning in contentment. "No," she mumbled, sighing as she rolled over, trying desperately to get the dream back. It was elusive and resisted her grasp, but she was just starting to drift back into it when the voice spoke again, accompanied by a soft kiss.
"Wake up, or else your friends are bound to find us naked, and wrapped up in a nice little package on your couch." The voice was Spike's, and he sounded very amused.
"Go away," she told him, rolling onto her back to halt his hand from tracing patterns there. "I wanna sleep."
"As much as I'd like to see Xander keel over from a heart attack, I think it'll have to wait for another day." He slapped her hip lightly, nudging her.
"Go away," she repeated, immediately feeling the loss of him when he sat up. "They're not coming over, there's no reason for them to."
"They're doing that blasted test tonight, remember? The-- oops." Now he completely left the couch.
Willow opened her eyes and rolled over to look at him. He was kneeling beside the couch, looking decidedly shamefaced. "What oops?" she asked. "What test? There's a test? I didn't study..." she frowned, pushing the last traces of sleep away and sat up. "Huh?"
"Oh," he laughed humorlessly. "Did I not tell you about that? Meant to when I came down here." His eyes slid over her body making her feel like she didn't have a stitch of clothing on.
She looked down. And no wonder. She didn't *have* a stitch of clothing on, hence the feeling. "Tell me what?" she asked. Sitting up, she pulled her knees to her chest, and crossed her feet at the ankles, trying to hide her lack of clothing. Her eyes surreptitiously searched for her clothes.
He bent down, picking something up from the floor. Her red blouse, the one she'd had on earlier, before their little romp in the... well, on the couch. She quickly shoved her arms into it and pulled it down over her, wishing it were just a little longer than hip length. Didn't cover a whole lot of her lower regions. A hand holding black jeans was suddenly right in front of her face, forcing her to look up from her fidgeting at the waist of her shirt.
"Thanks," she mumbled, biting the bullet and sliding into them while he watched. A tiny little thrill went through her at his unwavering look, but she shoved it down, way down, to the furthest reaches of wherever those bad feelings went. "Um, test?" she reminded him.
He was so busy watching her wriggle into her jeans and running his tongue along his teeth that he barely heard her. A second later, he snapped out of his reverie and looked up at her face. Yep, she wanted to say, up here, Spike, where the mouth is talking.
"Right. Test." He sat back on his heels, giving her a good view of his own nakedness. "Giles wants to test the five mile part of the bond, maybe more. But they'll be here promptly at sunset, I'm sure. Maybe before."
After mentally chastising Spike for staring, she found herself to be quite the hypocrite. Her eyes had landed somewhere near his chest when he sat back, and from there, they'd traveled down, checking out the parts she hadn't gotten to really see yet. And, wow. Pale skin, all white and muscles rippling, and lean, narrow hips leading down to... skipping right over that part, she trailed her gaze down his muscled legs, feeling a guilty pleasure sweep through her. She was ogling Spike like a piece of meat. Manmeat. Like a horse, a stud horse, only with less icky thoughts in that direction.
His words penetrated her mind seconds after he'd stopped speaking. "Oh, hey, that's a good idea," she said enthusiastically, much more so since she'd returned her gaze to his face to find him not laughing at her ogling, he wasn't even looking at her, which, yay. She frowned, realizing she hadn't once thought to test the bond. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"Possibly because you've had other things on your mind, like being punched in the face, and being stabbed--by proxy--in the stomach?" He grabbed his blue jeans and stood up, bringing his crotch right smack dab into her view. Right in her face. "And me," he chuckled, looking down at her.
She narrowed her wide-eyed stare and angled it at him. "There's that jerk part of you again." Not bothering to even look at him again, she headed upstairs to take a shower.
"Hey, forgot something," Spike called after her.
She turned to look at him, not really wanting to, but unable to stop herself. Sure enough, he was holding all her under-things, bra, panties, socks... humiliation seemed to be complete. She left him in the living room and practically dove into the bathroom. Not that she was safe from him there since he'd broken the lock the night before.
Sighing, she leaned against the bathroom door and stripped off the clothes she'd just hastily put on. She wasn't afraid of Spike, or even ashamed for having slept with him, no, what was bothering her was the complete lack of guilt, and the super wanting she had for him. Even when he was being the aforementioned jerk, she wanted him. That didn't sit well with her.
"Oy," she muttered, pushing away from the door, naked and satisfied and in no way thinking about Spike downstairs, holding her panties and bra. Turning on the water to distract herself, she stepped under the spray. Knowing it would be cold, and actually feeling that coldness were two completely different things. She screamed as the cold water stung her face and body, dripping into spots that weren't immediately sapped of their warmth. Ice water. Oh, brr, she was a Willow-sicle.
The door burst open a second later, scaring the heck out of her. She screamed and jumped back against the tiles, huddling there against the warmer-than-her tiles.
"Willow?" It was Spike's voice. Again. And he sounded a little panicked. "What happened?" The curtain was pulled roughly aside, revealing Spike clad in the same blue jeans, and black button-up shirt he'd had on earlier. It was unbuttoned, and his feet were bare. She dragged her eyes from his exposed chest to his face, and found him looking anxiously at her.
She shivered some more, and then glared. "Get out," she mumbled, straightening away from the wall. "You scared the stuffing out of me."
"The stuffing?" he scoffed, shaking his head with a laugh.
"The water's cold, I yelled, now go," she ordered, covering herself with the curtain as best she could. Her wet hair, plastered against her face was shoved impatiently out of her eyes so she could further glare at him without all the cold, wet drips down her face. So much better, now they were dripping down her back, and she had to resist arching her back to get away from the cold drips, which would probably give him the absolutely wrong impression, so she suffered in silence.
His hand snaked out, well actually it only reached out, but to her, it seemed to snake out, and without blinking an eye at the freezing cold water hitting his hand and arm, he turned the hot on. His eyes widened slightly. "Why wasn't the hot on...?" His laughter rang out as he chortled and snickered, generally annoying the heck out of her. "There was no need for all of that," he laughed, stepping into the shower with her, "all you had to do was ask."
She dropped the shower curtain and shoved at him. "Get out." When he only moved closer, ignoring the water sluicing down his back and dripping down his face, she got out instead, stepping onto the blue bath rug with a shiver. The cold air in the bathroom, from the wide open door had her reaching for a towel. "And that jerk side of yours just keeps on surfacing," she muttered, wrapping the fluffy towel around herself with a glare reserved only for the annoying vampire in front of her.
He chuckled a little more, letting her know how amused he was, like she hadn't already gotten it, and vacated the tub. "Take your shower... and, uh, try using some warm this time." So saying, he grabbed the other towel and ran it over his head as he left the room behind.
She threw the towel on the floor and resumed her shower, ever mindful of Spike and his possible entrance into the bathroom. And she in no way wanted that to happen again.
She didn't.
Willow, sitting stiffly on the couch, freshly showered, and blow dried, not to mention dressed, waited nervously for her friends to arrive. Giles had called an hour before, just as she was getting out of the shower, to let her know they'd be over as soon as Xander was off work. Xander and Buffy were going to pick Willow up while Giles and Dawn would take Spike.
Her nervousness stemmed from a few different sources. Spike, in different clothes now since his trip into her shower, was dressed in a pair of his usual black jeans and the old red button-up shirt he'd stopped wearing a few years back. He was sitting right beside her, his arm and leg practically plastered against hers as he watched TV. Looked like a British crime show, but the main character had an Irish accent, so she wasn't exactly sure. Paying more attention to Spike's closeness than the TV was the cause for this. He was just an all around distraction.
Another reason for the nervousness was seeing Xander again after their fight the night before. Especially since she had another bout of sex with Spike to throw in there for reasons why Xander should hate Spike. But, they weren't going to know about that. It was none of their business. She wasn't Anya, she didn't walk around spouting out how many times she'd had sex the night before, and in what positions. That was between her and Spike and no one else.
Another reason, maybe the biggest one, was the test. What was going to happen when they took that one final step past the five mile mark? Death? Convulsions? Maybe they'd sprout wings and fly to each other, or be magically transported to a neutral spot somewhere in between. They had no way of knowing, and the unknown had always scared Willow. Vampires, demons, monsters who sucked kid's lives from them, that she could handle. It was the not knowing that was infinitely more frightening. So this test was actually clearing up one of those fears while creating a whole new one in the process.
"Calm down," Spike told her, not even bothering to look away from the TV. "They'd never let anything happen to you. Bet they even set you up in front of the hospital, just in case."
She nodded absently, sitting up a little. "Probably." His words of assurance helped, but not in a big way. "Makes sense that they-- hey, why didn't I think of that? I usually think of this stuff." She flopped back against the couch cushions, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's probably this stupid bond's fault. It's dumbing me down. I'm losing my smarts."
Spike chuckled, turning to face her as he raised his legs on her lap and laid down. She glared at his now dry, jean-clad legs, but he ignored her for the TV where the smoking, drinking psychiatrist was arguing with a female cop that he happened to be having an affair with.
"You're not losing your smarts, Willow. I'm-- wait a minute." He turned his eyes to her, and narrowed them at her angrily. "Are you calling me stupid?"
"No, I'm calling me stupid," she corrected with a snort. "We may be bound together but we're two separate people, Spike. Two bodies, two minds."
"Yeah, right," he scoffed, glaring at her a few more seconds before switching his attention back to the show. "This bond trades your pain for my pain and vice versa. Don't go thinking it saps your smarts, dumbing you down because of me."
"I didn't--" she exhaled sharply, not wanting to argue with him. She had enough on her mind at the moment without adding an argument to it. Laying her head back, she closed her eyes, trying to calm down.
Spike's boots on her thighs were growing increasingly more uncomfortable. Just as they became achy, he removed them. The couch shifted under her as he sat up.
"Are you scared?" she asked him.
"Nope." The answer was immediate, no thinking involved. "You shouldn't be either."
"I know," she agreed, sighing. "It's just, you know, fear of the unknown. I like knowing things, being prepared. A certain amount of control is always a good thing." Opening her eyes as the doorbell rang, she inhaled deeply, then let out her breath slowly. "It's time."
Spike turned off the TV and pulled her to her feet, giving her a gentle push towards the door. "We aren't going to die, Willow." He smirked, and gave her a quick pat on the butt. "I just got somewhat implant-free, you think I'd let myself get killed now?"
Jumping slightly at the feel of his hands on her backside, she turned to glare at him. "Heck no."
"Hell no," he agreed. "Now, let's--"
The door opened and Buffy came in, looking directly and solely at Willow. "Ready?" Her eyes stayed on Willow, completely ignoring Spike, which had Willow frowning.
Spike rolled his eyes and pulled Willow along behind him. "We're ready," he answered, letting go of Willow's hand as he pushed past Buffy.
Willow locked the door behind them and shoved her keys into her pocket. She should probably get a copy made for Spike, she thought absently, joining them on the sidewalk. Spike stopped suddenly, and she ran smack into his side. He reached out to steady her and she tossed him a quick little smile. "There's that non-jerk side again."
He didn't respond, but maybe that was because all his attention was focused on glaring at the street. Willow looked up to see what had him so irritated. Xander's car was parked in front, but it was the only one there; Giles' car was nowhere to be seen.
He sighed in annoyance. "Where's Rupert?"
Buffy grabbed Willow's hand and dragged her toward Xander's car. "On his way."
Willow halted Buffy's mad dash to the car and turned back, gesturing to Spike. "Shouldn't we wait?"
Buffy shook her head. "Giles will be here in a second. You know him, he thinks the slow lane is too fast." She shot Spike a brief chilly look before settling her eyes on Willow's face again. "Spike's a big boy, Willow, he can wait alone. Come on."
Willow frowned again. If she didn't know better, she'd think Buffy was trying to avoid Spike, but that was just plain silly. "That's not the point," she chastised. "You're being rude."
"Rude?" Buffy snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Please. If this is me being rude, then what do you call what Spike tried to do to you in our dorm room?" She leaned back against the car fender, waiting. "You remember that, right? Fangs, bumpy face, evil growling?"
Willow frowned at Buffy who was looking all self-righteous and smug as her eyes darted once more to Spike, then back to Willow. Willow turned to look at Spike, who was currently the proud owner of a huge scowl, and it seemed to be aimed at Buffy. Well, now what the heck was going on with them? she wondered. "Not you too," Willow groaned. "Xander corrupted you, didn't he?" She stepped back, raising her voice to include Spike. "Look, we have to learn to get along, all right. Buffy, I'm attached to Spike for possibly ever, and that's a long time. So, accept it and move on. I have." She turned her attention to Spike. "And you--"
Buffy pushed away from the car, leaning closer to Willow as she lowered her voice. "No."
Willow stared at her with wide eyes as Xander got out of the car and stood in the open door. "What's the holdup?" he asked, looking from Willow to Buffy, not even sparing a glance in Spike's direction.
Spike returned the favor as he came over to stand beside Willow. The three occupants of the sidewalk stared at each other, ignoring Xander completely.
"No?" Willow repeated, unable to process the word correctly. No, Buffy wouldn't move on, or wouldn't accept it, or... something else altogether? "You were somewhat fine with things last night," she mumbled, trying to figure out what had happened between then and now, but she couldn't come up with anything. "What happened?"
Buffy sighed, her face softening as she dropped her defensive stance. "Nothing. I just-- nothing. Can we go now?"
Willow shook her head, not at all satisfied with Buffy's non-answer. "Funny how it's still rude," she chided Buffy. "We can wait--" a set of halogen lamps pierced the darkness, bathing them all in pools of light, forcing them to squint as the car owning them pulled up directly in front of Xander's car, parking the wrong way.
"Oh, look," Buffy pointed out unnecessarily, "Giles is here. Let's go." She hurried to the passenger's side door and waited for Willow to join her.
The headlights cut off, and Giles leaned out of his open window and gestured for Spike to get in.
"Giles," Xander called out, "you do realize that you're in America now, don't you? We drive on the right side of the road here."
"No, you drive on the wrong side of the road here," Spike tossed back, beating Giles to the punch. Giles looked a bit disappointed as he ducked his head back in the window.
Willow, feeling an even deeper sense of doom, tossed an apologetic look to her friends and ran over to Spike, stopping him in front of Giles' car. "Wait."
He halted and turned, rolling his eyes at her good-naturedly. "Told you before, Willow, you're not going to die."
She nodded, not completely sure of that herself, and took a few steps closer, not wanting everyone listening to their conversation. "Just... do me a favor? Don't die?"
He laughed and sat down on the hood of Giles' sporty red car, hooking a boot on the fender. "Do I look like the suicidal sort?"
"Of course not," she said, dismissing the comment with a wave of her hand. "But, this is Sunnydale, and an unknown bond thing... and you aren't exactly known for being the careful type."
He nodded seriously and reached for her hand, pulling her closer to him, until her knees touched the bumper and she could feel the heat the car was giving off as it idled. "I'm not the careful type," he agreed, "but I'm also not careless. I look out for myself. It's kind of my number one priority most times." His eyebrows raised, waiting for her acknowledgment, when she gave it, he stood up and pulled her closer.
"Hey," Xander yelled angrily, and she tried to pull away, to unwrap her own arms from around Spike's waist, but he held her still.
Unbelievably, it was Buffy who halted Xander's possible mad dash to tear them apart. "Leave them alone," she told him in no uncertain terms.
"But," Xander protested, his voice almost a whine.
"Xander," Buffy warned, but that was all Willow heard, though she could imagine Buffy giving him one of her silencing looks.
Willow sighed against Spike's chest, feeling quite content to stay there forever, wrapped up in the comforting arms of the man she... cared about. Just a little, she admitted.
When she relaxed against him, he groaned, tightening his arms around her as his voice whispered in her ear, husky and full of promise. "You have no idea how much I want you, do you?"
So stunned and startled at the feelings the question sent fluttering through her, she pulled back, and got another shock, one she could've lived without. Apparently, when she'd pulled away, she'd moved so quickly that she'd taken Spike by surprise, because he had to drag his eyes from where they were fixed to Buffy's face. When his eyes finally dropped to Willow's, there was a whole lot of wariness there. She dropped her arms and stepped away from him, hurt causing her throat to tighten and her chest to feel heavy.
Not wanting to look, but needing to, she turned her head, seeing Buffy standing beside Xander at the driver's side door, her eyes on them, her face blank. That meant she was hiding something. Keeping something to herself. And Willow had an idea that that something had to do with Spike.
"I've gotta go," she told him, thinking to make a hasty exit. But then she remembered why they were there, and what they were doing, and there was no hastiness involved in her exit. She was happy they weren't going to the same place, because she really wanted to be away from him right now. "You should go," she said, gesturing to Giles and Dawn. "They're waiting."
"Are you--" he began, but Willow ignored him, walking stiffly away, feeling as if her body was hardening with each step she took. And when she reached the car door, she just knew she was going to break into a million pieces and drop to the sidewalk, to be crunched under boot heels and stray tires, possibly a kid's bouncing ball. But she didn't shatter, her hand closed on the door handle and pulled it open without a problem. Climbing inside, she shut the door with a quiet, but firm click and stared out the side window.
Xander climbed in behind the steering wheel, unaware that anything had happened. Unaware that Willow's heart was starting to feel painfully empty. Buffy went around the car, circling in front of it, and Willow tried not to look, but she couldn't keep her eyes from darting out the windshield. She caught a furtive glance between Buffy and Spike, which turned into a glare from both of them.
When she forced herself to look fully at Spike, she saw the blank impassiveness she was used to seeing from him before the bond started. His eyes bored into hers as he stared through the windshield, straight at her. Or so she imagined. Returning her eyes to the side window, she ignored him, and waited for Xander to start the car and leave. As soon as Buffy's door shut, Xander started the car, but didn't immediately leave.
He grabbed something from beside him, and held it to his mouth as it crackled and hissed before falling quiet. "This is Red Eagle, calling the Penis-mobile. I repeat, this is Red Eagle calling the Penis-mobile." His chortling laughter normally would've had Willow snorting with laughter herself, but she couldn't find anything stronger than a strained smile to toss at him when he looked into the rearview mirror at her.
"Xander," Buffy gasped, smacking him on the arm. "My sister's in that car. She's listening to the walkie talkie... heck, she's probably controlling the thing. So, there'll be no penis talk around her. Ever."
Xander groaned, dropping his head back onto the headrest. "Fine, fine, no penis talk, but what do you suggest I call him?"
The radio crackled, then Dawn's voice, sounding tinny and far away, came over the walkie talkie. "Giles asks that you please not say that ever again," she giggled, sticking her hand out the back window and waving at them.
All eyes were suddenly riveted to Giles' car as he turned in his seat toward the back, where Dawn was sitting. The walkie talkie went from static, to silence a few times, and then Giles' broken words cut through. "..this thing. Can't--" static. "... hold this one?" More static, and then Dawn's voice as well as Spike's came over the walkie.
"No, Giles, hold the blue one down. Let go of the--" Dawn was trying not to laugh as she explained how to use the walkie talkie, but they could all hear it, even across the radio.
"--a bloody button down, you stupid git?" Spike growled, and Willow lifted her eyes to him. She couldn't see him clearly in the darkness, but she could see him enough to know that he was stretched out in his seat, looking bored. Inside, he was probably seething. It was just a gut feeling. Or maybe it was because that's how he'd always looked to her.
"Let's just go," Giles' voice snapped over the walk talkie, startling her out of her musings. Her eyes focused once again, and she found herself staring straight at Spike. As they drove past Giles' car, she felt his eyes on her, but refused to look.
The drive to their destination was a quiet one for Willow, as she contemplated this new news. No, not new, old news really. She'd known he was in love with Buffy, but that he'd stared over at Buffy while touching her, holding her, whispering words to her... it hurt. So much. So much more than it should.
Buffy turned in her seat once to ask her if she was all right. Willow nodded and smiled until Buffy accepted her answer and turned back around in her seat with a slightly less worried frown. The truth was that she was so far from being okay. Once again, she'd done the wrong thing by letting her heart lead her into waters best not traversed. Again. Thankfully she'd found out in time, before her heart was more involved than it was.
Glancing out the window at the nighttime scenery flying by, she listened to Xander and Dawn tell jokes to each other on the walkie talkies, and tried not to think. That lasted all of ten seconds. If she was completely honest with herself, what hurt most was that Spike hadn't pretended to care about her at all as he seduced her and manipulated her into his bed. She'd just assumed he felt something. Assumed he was trying not to think of Buffy while touching Willow, trying not to look at Buffy as he whispered in Willow's ear. Hers, damn it. Not Buffy's.
A few minutes later, she realized they were slowing down, and parking. Looking at her surroundings, she had to laugh harshly. They were in the parking lot of the hospital, just like Spike had predicted. Too bad he hadn't predicted her... what? Heartbreak? No, not a broken heart, just a slightly bruised one. Scratched and banged up a little.
Taking a deep breath, wanting this over as soon as possible so she could get back home to be alone, maybe eat a pint or two of ice cream, she left the relative safety of the backseat and stood there, looking around. She'd expected to feel a worsening of anxiety the further they got from each other, maybe an internal warning system, but there was nothing. Not even a tingling.
Just as she started to move away from the car to join Xander and Buffy, they jumped forward, halting her progress.
"No! Stay right there," Buffy told her, physically holding her arm to keep her still.
"We've got this mapped out to exactly five miles," Xander explained, pointing at the ground with the walkie talkie. "When Giles and Spike are in place, we'll very slowly, and very carefully walk with you. Just... wait." He held his hands out soothingly, as if she were a savage beast about to attack him.
She smiled a little, for real this time, and leaned back against the car door. "Okay, staying in this spot until further notice," she told them. Looking curiously at the numbered markings on the ground, she had to wonder when they'd had the time to come out here and mark this parking lot with chalk. Pink chalk. "Does Spike get blue chalk?" she asked with a chuckle.
"Yep," Buffy answered, "although, Xander tried to make me use pink." She grinned sideways at Xander.
"It was the least I could do for him," Xander tossed back, completely serious. "I mean, seriously, what do you get for the vampire who 'accidentally' sexes up your best friend?" Lifting the walkie talkie, he moved slightly away from them. "Giles?"
As the walkie talkie crackled to life, Buffy nudged Willow's arm to get her to look up from her sudden perusal of her shoes. "You okay? Did something happen earlier?" She frowned, like she was unsure if she should interfere or not, then gave in and did just that. "Did Spike say or do something to you?" She leaned closer conspiratorially. "'Cause, I can't beat him up anymore, but I could give you an Indian Rub that'll make him smart a little."
Willow snorted in amusement and smiled at Buffy. "No, he didn't do or say anything wrong. I'm just nervous," she lied, and rather expertly if Buffy's acceptance was any indication. "Um, I was wondering sort of the same thing. Did something happen between you and Spike last night?"
Buffy's head shot up and her eyes darted from Willow's face to her own hands before moving over to Xander a few feet away. "Why? I mean, what do you mean?"
"Oh, that's reassuring," Willow laughed, the tight knot in her stomach growing bigger. "It's just that... when we talked last night, in the bathroom, you said you were sort of okay with the whole me and Spike thing. Not that you were really, really happy and glow-y about it, but, you know, you said you were okay with it. And that you wouldn't be terribly opposed to Spike and I dating if that's what we wanted, as funny as that is, but now..." she trailed off, hoping Buffy would take up the slack and deny it. Deny it all, and tell Willow that nothing whatsoever had happened between her and Spike. That she was being silly.
Buffy didn't deny it. She nodded, and once again dropped her eyes to her hands, then raised them with a sigh. "It wasn't just a random vampire that I saw Angel in last night. That I kissed. It was--"
"Spike," Willow whispered, hating herself for the twinge of jealousy that shot through her. Hating herself also because it didn't go away, it actually stuck around and decided to invite its friends, envy and paranoia. "You kissed Spike."
"Yeah, and it really took me aback. I mean, more than aback, I was all... aside and a-front too." Her voice lowered enough to keep the conversation between just the two of them. "What freaked me out more than anything, even more than the fact that I threw myself at Spike was that he didn't take advantage of the situation. Forcing me to realize that he's not as bad as I've always made him out to be. Though he's still evil," she added.
Willow frowned, positive she'd heard Buffy wrong. Spike hadn't taken advantage of Buffy while she was vulnerable and kissing him? Kissing him with all the love she felt for Angel? "Really?" she asked skeptically, not allowing herself to believe it. Even if it was true, so what? What did it mean except that he wasn't stupid enough to tick Buffy off. "He was probably trying to get on your good side," she said softly. "He's smart enough to know that a small instant of pleasure isn't going to end well after your memory returned, so he twisted it to make himself look good, hoping it would help his cause in the long run."
Buffy was shaking her head before Willow even got through the first sentence. "No, after a year of watching him do just that, I know the difference between manipulation and reality. This was real, because he was angry with himself for stopping the kiss. I didn't see it right away, but afterwards, when I had time to think about it, I know I saw self recrimination."
Willow still didn't believe it. She'd seen the look on his face as he gazed at Buffy, the want and need in his voice, and knew it had to have been directed at Buffy as much as his look was. Nodding and smiling, a favorite pastime of hers lately, she raised her voice. "Are they ready yet?"
Xander held up a finger and continued to listen to the walkie talkie, which was pressed tightly against his ear. She could barely hear it from her spot a few feet away, and thought maybe the distance was too great for them to work perfectly. Should've bought the expensive ones, she thought absently.
"Willow," Buffy said softly, tossing a quick look Xander's way. Seeing he was still occupied, she continued. "I didn't intend for it to happen, and I don't think it changes anything between you two, so whatever is there... it's still there. You know, if anything is there."
"I know," Willow told her. "But, there's nothing there, so there's nothing to worry about."
Buffy nodded, though Willow could see she was far from convinced. "Okay. If that's how it is..."
"It is," Willow said, her smiling straining to the point of breaking. "So, when does this show get on the road?"
"And that, dear ladies, is the question of the day. Or, night," Xander said, joining them again. He held the walkie talkie up, glaring at it with eyes filled with disappointment. "This stupid thing isn't exactly old reliable, but it works. It's just a little faint sounding is all."
"Are they ready?" Buffy asked, positioning herself at the long five mile chalk mark drawn at the end of a parking space. Facing Willow, she breathed in deeply, looking ready to take on a football team of vampires.
"Yep. Just waiting on us to assume the position," Xander answered, doing just that. He positioned himself on one side of Buffy, leaving a space between them for Willow to walk through. "Whenever you're ready, Willow. But, just... tell us before you go."
Feeling so much like a baby about to take her first steps, Willow informed them, "I'm about to move my right leg. I repeat, I am about to move my right leg."
They both grinned at her, and relaxed their postures. "Okay," Buffy laughed. "We get it. Overreaction gal and guy are gone."
"Yeah, completely sort of not all the way gone," Xander agreed. "But, you know, we just don't want anything to happen to you is all."
"I know," Willow told them, grateful to have friends like them, friends that cared about her and wanted to take care of her. "And I'm appreciative, really, but could you maybe not make me even more nervous than I already am?"
They consulted each other, frowning and gesturing to one another, before nodding in agreement. "Yeah, we can do that," Xander agreed.
"I think so, yeah," Buffy added.
"Okay, I know you're trying to make this easier, and make me laugh and lighten up and relax, but I gotta tell you. Not gonna happen."
"No?" Xander inquired, frowning.
"Not so much," Willow told him. "Can I move now?" Without waiting for an answer, she walked calmly over to them, stopping just before the chalk mark. The part of the parking lot they were in was deserted now, and probably didn't get a lot of traffic during the day, since it was in the very back of the hospital, as far away as possible, almost to the street. However, she couldn't help wondering, then asking, how the chalk marks had remained there with all the driving over that had to have occurred at least a little, not to mention the asphalt was darkened with water. But, the chalk mark was there, all pink and perfect.
"Magick," Buffy answered, shrugging lightly. "Giles enchanted the chalk to stay until we say the magick word, releasing it back into the wild."
"Oh, neat," she said, smiling at them as they waited patiently. "Magick chalk. Ooo, like Simon."
Buffy looked back and forth between them in confusion. "Who's Simon?"
Xander laughed, nearly giggling as he sang, "Hello my name is Simon, and I like to do draw-rings." His horribly massacred British accent had them all giggling by the time he was done. "The chalk kid from Captain Kangaroo! He was so cool."
"What's happening over there?" Giles asked, his faint voice crackling over the walkie talkie. "We're waiting for Willow to make the first move."
Xander lifted the walkie talkie to his mouth, still grinning, but no longer laughing. "Sorry, she's nervous, we're just trying to get her to relax. She's about to go now."
"All right--" Giles sent back.
"Good luck, Willow!" Dawn yelled quickly, finishing just as the button was released.
Willow opened her mouth to tell them she was moving, but then decided to just do it. Go for it before her nerves got the better of her. She took one, then two steps up to the line, and kept on going for five steps. A feeling she was somehow familiar with flowed through her from head to foot. It wasn't something she knew, or had felt before, but it was definitely familiar. And yet, she felt no different than normal, there was no impending doom rushing through her any longer. Smiling widely, thinking maybe they'd gotten off lucky with this part of the bond, she turned toward her friends, walking backward.
"Nothing," she laughed, holding her hands out from her sides. "Nothing's happening."
"Willow, stop!" Giles yelled over the walkie talkie, and her blood ran cold.
Not only did she stop walking, but she stopped breathing as well. Stopped trying to act like Spike didn't matter to her. Stopped lying to herself about a lot of things. "Spike?" she whispered. "Is he okay?"
Xander and Buffy ran over to her, Buffy holding her hand reassuringly as Xander tried to get hold of Giles. "It's okay, Willow. I'm sure he's fine." Even so, Buffy watched Willow's face for a sign of pain or distress, ready to pick her up and run with her to the hospital if anything happened.
"Giles!" Xander yelled for the third time, slapping the walkie talkie against his hand when there was nothing but static on the other end. Walking away from them, toward the car, he pushed the button again, demanding a response from Giles. "Answer me, damn it, Giles. Willow's about to lose it here."
"... is fine. A vampire-- us-- took care of it. Everything's fine now. Do you copy?" Giles demanded right back.
"We copy," Xander said, a sigh of relief working its way past his lips, and Willow and Buffy followed suit. "And next time? Don't freakin' scare us like that again!" he yelled.
"Well I'm so very sorry my bodily beating got in the way of holding your hand," Giles snapped back. "Next time I'll make sure to drag my bruised and bloodied body to the walkie talkie to keep you apprised of the situation."
"He does sarcasm way to well," Buffy snorted, yanking the walkie talkie out of Xander's hand as he was about to smash it against the hood of his car. "We still need it," she remarked, pushing the button and bringing it to her mouth. "Is Spike past the marker?" she asked.
Willow didn't care at this point. All she cared about was that Spike was all right. Not dead. Not laying on the ground, convulsing and bleeding from his ears. Releasing her fear wasn't an easy thing to do, and she really had to work hard not to drop to her knees, sobbing. Instead of being weak, she straightened her back and bolstered her courage, preparing to begin her walk again.
"No," Dawn answered, "hold on for a second." Silence descended, then she came back on, considerably more subdued than she'd been in the car. "Giles is hurt," she informed them. "A vampire attacked us, but Spike killed it. Giles--"
"Is he all right?" Buffy asked, her voice thick with worry. "Does he need help?"
"No," Dawn answered, her own voice shaking a bit. "Um, he says he's fine, but--" she lowered her voice, obviously not wanting Giles to hear her. "Spike thinks his arm his broken. Giles' arm, not Spike's."
Buffy bit her lip in indecision, but before she could settle on a course of action, Giles was back on the walkie talkie.
"I'm fine. Let's get the test over with, and then I'll make my weekly visit to hospital." His voice was strained, his teeth practically grinding. "Spike's in place, is Willow?"
"Um," Buffy looked over at Willow to see her still in the same spot. "Yeah, she's past the marker."
Willow took one step away from her friends, and then another, and another. Once again the familiar feeling shot through her, and she was left to wonder at it. "Still nothing," she informed them. "I don't think--" suddenly, all the air rushed out of her in one breath and she fell to her knees, very much like she hadn't wanted to do earlier. Pain shot through her eyes and burrowed deep into her brain, forcing a cry of agony out of her mouth.
Both Buffy and Xander rushed to her aid, Xander yelling over the walkie talkie while Buffy helped her up, dragging her back the way she'd come, but it was too late. The link was now complete, in every way possible. She could hear Spike's thoughts, feel his emotions, and feel the pain in his head from the chip... and then it was gone, and she was alone again. "I think-- I think that whatever that was, it's gone now," she whispered through a throat raw from screaming.
"You ask me, you think too much sometimes," Spike told her solemnly.
She stopped and looked around, already knowing she wouldn't see him. He was still five miles away, it was just his thoughts she could hear.
"Not completely done," she sighed, resting her head on Xander's shoulder.
"Are you all right?" Xander asked gently, brushing a lock of hair from her cheek.
They both watched her anxiously as she straightened up and took a deep breath. "I'm fine, but you need to not touch me. Spike doesn't like it."
Xander frowned angrily. "First of all, so what? Second of all, how the hell does he know I was touching you?"
Buffy looked around cautiously, as if Spike, fangs and claws flashing, was about to hop out of the darkness and attack them. "Good questions."
An exhausted sigh worked its way past her lips. "When we were first bound together, we could read each other's minds, hear each other's thoughts. This is sort of like that, only stronger. Not only do I hear his thoughts, and vice versa, but I feel them."
"Feel them?" Buffy repeated. "You feel his thoughts, or you feel what he feels along with a certain thought?"
"Bingo on the second one, Slayer." Willow raised an eyebrow at them.
"Wow, Will, that was a really scary impression of Spike you did there." Xander took a step away from her, and then another as she laughed, not entirely in a Willow-like way. "Let's not do that often, hmm?"
"Spike, get out of my head," Willow ground out, closing her eyes tightly, fighting the urge to punch Xander. "I am not hitting him," she said in exasperation.
"Ruin my fun," Spike chided her, sighing heavily.
She rolled her eyes and stood up. "Spike, get out of my-- hey!" Her hand shot out and settled on Buffy's shoulder. As with the last time this had happened, Willow hadn't been the one to move her hand. "No feeling Buffy up in my body, Spike!" Her anger got through to him, and he removed her hand, leaving it alone.
"Relax," Spike sighed, his words lingering in her mind like a caress. "I had to check out how far this thing went." His voice turned lecherous and she could just imagine the smirk on his face. "You're lucky I didn't make you touch yourself," he laughed.
"Yeah, well," she huffed, ignoring Buffy and Xander as she stalked toward the marking line. "Maybe I should make you touch yourself, you pervert."
"Go ahead," he chuckled, "give Dawn and Giles a nice show."
Tired of arguing with him, and not really in the mood for it, she ignored him as well. A few seconds later, as she neared the car, she felt a tugging on her mind, she closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to figure out what it was and where it was coming from. Was it magick, or the bond? As she followed the tenuous thread connecting her mind with Spike's, she heard his thoughts growing louder, drowning out her own until they faded again, and she was alone. Thank goodness. Opening her eyes, she mumbled, "If that's all we get when we're too far apart, we definitely got off lucky-- Ahh!"
Dawn and Giles were there, in the parking lot-- no, not a parking lot. They were in an alley. A nice dark alley, with pastel blue chalk markings all around them. Dawn was kneeling beside Giles, who was cradling his left arm close to his chest. His very broken, and bloody left arm.
Both of them were now staring at her as well. Spike wasn't usually one to scream, so it had to be a little odd seeing and hearing him do just that. Seeing the pain on Giles' face though, she momentarily let the being-in-Spike's-body part go, and ran over to join them, dropping to her knees in front of Giles.
"Oh, God, Giles, are you all right? Ew, that looks really gross," she commented, wincing in sympathy at the gash and bulging bone sticking out of his forearm. "Definitely broken," she muttered. "Um, I could try to do a healing spell," she told him, raising her hands and letting them hover over his arm for a second before dropping them back to her thighs, "but I'm afraid I won't be able to set it right and then you'd have to have it re-broken, which, ow, so, I think hospital instead."
Both Dawn and Giles were still staring at her in open-mouthed shock, not wrapping their minds around the situation as quickly as she had. Giles climbed laboriously to his feet, still staring at her. Dawn followed suit, as did Willow. Dawn lifted the walkie talkie to her mouth, eyes still fixed to Willow's face. Though, that would be Spike's face, wouldn't it?
"Buffy, Xander... is-- is Spike there with you?" she asked casually.
Buffy's voice came on, slightly breathless. Oh, God, what if she'd just fought Spike and killed him? Hurt him? "He's..." Buffy giggled, and Willow's eyes widened. "He's here," she laughed, "and he seems to have brought a little something along with him." She paused and then they all heard Willow's voice cussing them out in a nifty new British accent.
Willow grabbed the walkie talkie from Dawn's loose hand and walked a few feet away from them, feeling really peculiar in Spike's body. Her stride was much longer, and things were there that didn't use to be... not on her anyway. "Buffy, um... is everyone all right?" she asked softly, hardly noticing Spike's deep, rich, unaccented voice coming through instead of her own.
Buffy laughed a quick yes before breaking off into more gales of laughter. "I'm sorry, Willow," she gasped, "I just can't help it. He's-- well, you're pacing back and forth, and growling, and it's really, really funny."
Willow thought that was debatable, but that was because she had a little inside information. "Buffy, Spike's a vampire."
"Duh," was Buffy's overly simplistic answer, but then she stopped laughing and calmed down considerably. "Oh. Xander, you might want to stop taunting Spike. 'Cause he's-- hey!"
"Willow," her own voice crackled over the walkie talkie, British accent sounding a little weird, "I want my own body back. Undo whatever you did."
"I didn't do anything, Spike. I think it's part of the bond." She tossed a quick look toward Giles, who was looking way too pale, and Dawn, who was equally as pale as she tried to wrap a silk scarf she'd been wearing, around the wound. "Giles needs to go to the hospital, so I think we're on our way over there."
"First," Giles gasped, as Dawn tightened the scarf, "first, we need to try to reverse this... thing. Go back to the five mile mark, and tell Spike to do the same." He smiled encouragingly at Dawn who was looking quite shaken after her nursing duties.
"Are you sure?" Willow asked uncertainly. He nodded and she sighed, pressing the blue button on the walkie talkie. "Spike, go back to the five mile mark, that might reverse it. Or so Giles thinks."
"Sure, pawn the blame off on me in case it doesn't work," Giles laughed weakly, gulping a few times.
Dawn tossed her an impatient and worried frown, looking so much like Buffy caught in a moment of indecision, that Willow had to smile as she joined them at the five mile mark.
"He'll be okay," she assured Dawn, though she was less sure of that than she'd been a minute go. He was going into shock. Pressing the button again, she informed the others that she was in position.
"Bloody hell," her voice growled back. "It's not happening, Willow. Do something," he ordered.
"Fine," she sighed back. "Giles, gimme your keys. Dawn, get in the car." Sliding a shoulder under Giles' unhurt arm, she helped him to the car, setting him gently in the front seat as Dawn climbed in back. Willow climbed in behind the steering wheel, strapping herself in and starting the car. She looked around the dark alley, preparing to back out, but not knowing which way to go. "Uh, where are we?"
"Fifth and Vine," Dawn answered, anxiously sitting forward in her seat. "Hurry, Willow."
"Don't crash us please," Giles gasped out. "I'd like to keep this car."
"Oh, please," Willow muttered, backing expertly out of the alley to the right, and shifting into gear, pulling out onto the street. "Unlike Anya, I actually *have* a license."
"*Now* he lets me drive his new car," Spike mumbled in her head. Spotting the walkie talkie in Dawn's hand by her head, she realized he wasn't in her head anymore. Just on the walkie talkie.
"Shut up, Spike," Giles ground out, shifting toward the door to keep his arm from jarring on the seat as they went over bumps.
"Shut up, Spike," Dawn said into the walkie talkie, before releasing the button. Half a second later, she pressed it again, and added, "Giles' words, not mine." Again she released the button, and again she pressed it and added, "Although, yeah, hello, shut up, Spike."
Willow glanced back at Dawn in the rearview mirror wondering what had her so ticked off at Spike this time. "Dawnie?" Returning her eyes to the road, she alternately watched Dawn sigh and roll her eyes, and kept a close watch on where she was headed.
"What?" Dawn huffed. "He's a jerk. One minute he's in love with Buffy, the next he's sleeping with you."
Sighing heavily, Willow glued her eyes to the road again. "That was--"
"An accident," Giles and Dawn repeated together.
Now it was Willow's turn to huff. "Well it was. We were both asleep, it wasn't like we planned it."
Dawn snorted rudely, leaning forward again. "I know how sex works, Willow. And I really don't think it can happen accidentally."
"Well," Willow admitted, "I thought he was Oz. He thought... actually, I don't know what he thought, but by the time I realized who he was, it was too late, and–"
"Oh, God, kill me now," Giles groaned, though not in pain this time. The look of distaste and disgust on his face was enough to make both girls laugh.
"Sorry, Giles. I'm just saying, it wasn't intentional." One by one she rubbed her hands, which had started to tingle a little bit during her explanation, onto Spike's jeans, wincing as the sensitive flesh touched the rough fabric. "Are vampires super sensitive to touch?" she asked Giles.
He frowned, shaking his head at her. "No, not really. At least, I've never heard it mentioned before. I believe it's just their eyes, ears, and smell." His eyes fell to her hands, which were barely touching the wheel now. "Is something wrong?"
Holding the steering wheel with only her fingertips helped, but it left a lot of control behind. They were halfway to the hospital, and no traffic was around on the side streets she was taking, but she still wasn't comfortable with the little bit of control she now had over the car. The tingling in her hands had grown, and by now she could hardly stand to have them touching air, let alone anything else.
"Willow?" Dawn called, tapping her on the shoulder. "Want me to ask Spike?"
Shrugging out from under Dawn's touch, she shook her head. "No, this isn't normal. Don't touch me, Dawnie, it hurts." Pulling quickly to the side of the road, she jumped out of the car, about to go nuts from the overwhelming sensitivity to everything touching her, including clothes. She was a guy now, so shirtless was okay for her, right? Trying to unbutton the red shirt, she fumbled with the top button before finally giving up with a groan.
"Dawn, unbutton my shirt please. Hurry." When Dawn didn't move right away, Willow snapped at her. "Now, damn it!" Immediately feeling contrite, she apologized and shifted from foot to foot. "Please, Dawn."
"Um," Dawn stalled, looking to Giles, who nodded his ascent. "Okay, but... don't vamp out on me, all right?"
"Couldn't if I tried," Willow told her, debating on whether or not to remove her boots as well. "Spike's the vampire, not me."
Dawn's eyes widened as she went to work on the small red buttons on Spike's shirt. "Are Buffy and Xander okay with him? He-- he won't hurt them, right?"
Impatient with Dawn's carefully controlled fingers working the buttons of Spike's shirt, Willow grabbed it by the collar and tore it off of her in one fell swoop. "I don't think he will," she assured Dawn, feeling an immediate relief as air hit her skin rather than cloth. The relief was short-lived. Her legs were starting to tingle and she knew she'd be having to remove them soon as well. Time to go. "What's going on?" she groaned, then turned back to Giles. Tossing him the car keys, she backed away, gasping with each movement that brought cloth in touch with skin. "Something's seriously wrong. I–- I have to go. I have to find Spike."
"Why?" he asked, climbing out of the car to circle around it. "If he's in the same shape as you, you can't help him."
She shook her head, knowing deep down in her gut that the only way to stop whatever it was from happening, was to touch Spike. "He'll help," she tossed back, slowly backing away, crossing the street as she talked. "The other restriction of the bond is to touch each other once a week. I think I have to go touch Spike."
"Ew," Dawn shuddered, looking almost as disgusted as Giles.
"Go," Giles told her. "We'll be all right." When she hesitated for a second, he picked up the walkie talkie from the seat. "I'll call Xander. Go."
She nodded, and was gone, running through the park toward the hospital. Each step she took jarred her, sending shots of electricity through her body, becoming more and more uncomfortable the further she got. Still, Spike was taller than her, and physically stronger, so she made good time, and hit the parking lot just a few minutes later. A few yards had trampled flowers in their gardens, and maybe a dog might've been let out through a fence that hadn't gotten closed, but she made it.
Xander's car was nowhere in sight, and neither was Spike.
"Damn it," she yelled in frustration, leaning over with her hands on her thighs to catch her breath. As soon as her palms touched the jeans, she screamed. Holding out her hands, palm up, she saw angry, raw, red flesh. They looked like they'd been burned, but without the blisters. The pain was similar too, and her legs and feet were feeling the same way. She had to find Spike. Now.
"My house," she realized. Turning around on the small grassy knoll that ran along the sidewalk and parking lot, she ran face first into a low hanging tree branch. "Ow." That didn't quite capture the pain she felt at the moment, so she stomped her foot, and slid down the hill to land on her butt. Unable to rub the offending parts of her anatomy without hurting herself, she screamed out her frustration and anger. Spike was sure to have a big hulking bruise on his face from that stupid branch. This night was turning out to be one of the worst of her life. Her anger was boiling over, and the branch had to be the one to pay the price. She flung her hand out, muttering words she didn't even know she knew, and the branch broke off and went flying, impaling itself through a car's windshield across the street, setting off the alarm.
Laying backward on the hill, for just a second before pushing herself to her feet and heading toward her house, she let out a sigh that would've done Dizzy Gillespie proud. And then she jumped up and took off running. She was almost in agony now. If she hadn't been extremely aware of the night creatures and even the human night dwellers of this town, she'd have shed every scrap of clothing Spike had on, but she was, so she didn't.
"He better appreciate this," she mumbled, jumping over a lawn chair in the backyard she was currently trespassing in. A dog, in the yard next door, followed her along the chain link fence, barking every inch of the way. Paying it no more attention than she would a flea, she continued on her trek through the finest and not-so finest backyards of Sunnydale.
As she neared her own block, she charged through the park, rounding a stand of trees and running straight into herself. Both she and Spike fell to the grass, staring at each other for only a split second before jumping at each other.
"It hurts," she whispered, running her hands along Spike's arms. "It hurts. Why does it hurt?"
"Don't know," he mumbled back, kissing her frantically, pressing as close to her as he possibly could. "Thought I was gonna go insane."
"My hands are raw, and... ow." Feeling a slight lessening of the pain, she pulled away, showing him her-- his hands. He lifted one of them, tracing a finger down the palm, which was no longer as red as it was before. His touch left a trail of cooled skin in its wake. "Oh, that feels good," she encouraged, urging him to touch her some more. Her eyes slid shut at the relief pouring through her entire body just from his touch. "So good."
"Mm," he agreed, leaning forward to kiss her again. She didn't pull away or stop, she had no intention of doing that, in fact. Not when it promised cooling relief. His hands trailed down her face and arms, and neither one stopped to ponder the fact that they were essentially touching themselves.
"Gives the phrase, 'touching yourself' a whole new meaning, doesn't it?" he chuckled in her ear.
Well, okay, she didn't stop to ponder it, but apparently he had. Sliding her hands up Spike's neck and back down his shoulders, she moaned, a sense of urgency pouring through her. Kissing him fully, she pressed up against him, feeling her new penis hardening the more he touched her. She held back a giggle at the thought, and concentrated on the feelings he was invoking, because wow, were they awesome.
Laying back on the grass, she pulled him down on top of her, and rolled over, so she was on top. If they were going to do this, and they definitely were, then she wanted to be in charge. Had to be a guy thing. She reached down, ripping open her jeans, feeling her erection pop free of its confines. Unable to stop herself, she looked down and took a gander at herself. "Wow, I'm big," she muttered.
Spike burst out laughing, and she was a little amazed at how sexy his laughter sounded when it was wrapped around her voice. Her stomach fluttered, like it always did when he was... well, nowadays it happened whenever he was near it seemed. Was this simply her own reaction to him, or was it his reaction to her?
Spike's hands worked at the buttons of his jeans, shoving them down his hips at the same time as she pulled hers down. She kissed him, tasting what he tasted when he kissed her, feeling what he felt when he touched her, and was closer to him in that moment, despite the body switch, than she'd ever been to anyone else. Walking in someone else's shoes was a very intimate experience.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and prepared to have her first penis experience. Just as she was opening her eyes, a feeling of vertigo went through her and the world went blurry, then shifted. A moment later, the world righted itself, and she was staring up at Spike in his own body. Neither one paused to take in this new information, Spike thrust inside of her, and rolled over, letting her have a go at being on top.
By this time, with all the extra sensory feelings shooting through the both of them, and the intimacy of sharing a body, in more ways than one, they were moving frantically against each other. Mating, not making love. She lifted herself up and down on him, settling her hands behind him on his raised thighs as she moved, using him for leverage, which didn't work that well.
She moaned in frustration, needing touch more than friction. Leaning down to press herself against him fully, she settled her mouth roughly over his. He rolled them over and thrust quickly into her, setting up a quick pace that she matched and met with a gasp. She wasn't far from orgasm, and having been in his body, she knew he wasn't either. Helping both of them along, she caressed every inch of bare flesh she could reach, which, was quite a bit since she'd just made a mad dash through town shirtless. He touched her as well, his fingers moving with a little less gentleness, and a lot more skill.
A minute later, they both found release, and arched into each other before collapsing. Silence descended as they calmed down, coming off that sexual, and magickal high. Spike lifted himself off of her, and rolled to the grass beside her, lifting his hips to pull up his pants.
Willow slid hers up as well, buttoning them with shaking fingers. The pain was gone completely now, and they were back in there bodies, but once again they'd ended up sleeping together. She'd vowed not to do that again until she was sure he was at least trying to get over Buffy. Vowed to herself that she wouldn't let him slip into her heart and break it, but after tonight, she knew it was too late for that. He was already there, and setting up camp.
Spike sat up beside her, lifting his knees and settling his forearms on them, hanging his head to stare at the grass. "God, that was--"
"The pain is mostly gone," she said quietly, not caring to hear his thoughts on the matter right now. They'd deal with this later. And his Buffy obsession too. Maybe. "I guess all we needed to do was... touch."
Spike chuckled flatly, sighing as he looked away. "I was doing just fine without the added encouragement."
She stood up, smoothing down her blouse. "I should go check on Giles." Squinting into the darkness, she kicked lightly at the ground beneath her feet. "He looked pretty bad when I... oh, God, I just left them there."
Spike stood up as well, avoiding looking at her just as much as she was avoiding him. "Giles called Xander to go get them. They're fine."
She nodded, chancing a look at him. He was frowning, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his back jean pocket. Huh, she hadn't even realized they were there, otherwise she may have thrown them out. Pointing in the direction of the hospital, she shrugged. "I should go."
"Yeah," he agreed, drawing in a lungful of smoke. "Think I'll walk you. Don't wanna experience that again anytime soon."