After Adam's defeat, the spoils of the 314 project are up for grabs. Spike & Willow find themselves at the centre of a web of intrigue.

Disclaimer: Any characters and locations from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series are the property of Mutant Enemy.

Chapter 7: Spike provides Willow with moral support...and maybe a little something extra.

It had been a long, hard day for Spike. Trying to do all of the jobs he'd been hired to do, keeping Nat sweet, the growing restlessness that drinking real human blood was inflicting upon him...that didn't leave many reserves with which to deal with a hysterical woman on top of everything else.

Confronted by a despairing Willow in the distinctly uncongenial surrounds of The Grotto, Spike decided needed to lighten the mood or he'd have the silly chit weeping all over him. He had enough problems already without adding soggy shoulders to the list.

"I dunno how were going to crack this, love. I guess we'll just have to hack it. Probably for the best, all things considered, given my track record with plans."

That won him a wan smile, so he decided to throw her another bone.

"Look, there's one thing I've found out that might help us." He handed her the manila folder provided by the Suit, "It's got some details about the high-ups. There might be some clues in there you could use for cracking passwords and the like."

Willow took the folder and turned it over in her hands. "How did you get hold of this?"

Spike affected indignation to divert her away from the truth of the matter saying, "Hey, you're not he only one who's been putting in any effort around here. Do you think I've just been sitting around on my arse all day or something?" This had Willow backtracking furiously and stumbling over her words in order to apologise. Whilst it was nice to see a ruse work, he really didn't have the patience to listen to it and broke in with "Yeah, yeah, alright. Just take the folder and shut up."

Willow blinked at him, clutching the folder to her chest, and Spike couldn't help but notice how the pressure accentuated the cleavage he had not realised she possessed. Damnation, what was wrong with him? He seemed to want to shag anything that moved these days. It wasn't that he hadn't had a pretty healthy libido ever since he's been turned, but these strange flashes of desire for someone who should just have been a means to an end were completely out of character.

The easiest solution would have been to take her and get it out of his system but he needed her co-operation for the moment and, although he knew that he affected her, any overtures would send her running for cover. A pity really, he could have given her quite an education.

"Spike?"

He realised that he'd been woolgathering for far too long and that Willow was becoming anxious at his silence. His own concern at the paths his mind had been following made his comeback more abrupt than it might otherwise have been.

"You still here?"

She recoiled, almost as if he had hit her, her scent sharp with dismay. Yet suddenly she seemed to pull herself together, squared her shoulders and looked him directly in the eye.

"You...you can't speak to me like that."

"No?" Despite himself, Spike felt a grin tugging at the edge of his lips. Feisty Willow reminded him, quite absurdly, of one of those tiny kittens in the Disney film. What was it? Oh yes, The Aristocats. Just like those little balls of fluff she was hissing and spitting, but ultimately she was still a cute little ginger kitten. Yeah, even though it pained him to admit it, he did have a soft spot for cute animal films.

"No. Not if you want my help...and...and stop laughing at me."

This time she even stamped her foot in counterpoint to her demand and Spike lost all control, doubling up with helpless laughter.

"S...sorry pet, but you should just see yourself."

Willow simply stood there and stared in amazement for a moment. Then the hysteria that had grabbed Spike spiralled out to ensnare her also. In a few minutes the pair of them were consumed with laughter, seated shoulder to shoulder on the floor.

"Christ, but I needed that," gasped Spike as the storm passed.

"Yeah, me too" replied Willow as she wiped her streaming eyes on the sleeve of her suit.

"Nothing like laughing in the face of an impending apocalypse, eh?"

She twisted round to face him. "Is that what you'd do with your last three minutes - laugh?"

"Nah, I'd think of something far more fun."

This was nothing but a throwaway line, the kind he tossed out without a thought, but suddenly the air between them was charged.

"Then I hope you're with someone more..."

Whatever Willow was about to say was lost as Spike lent forward, closing the tiny gap between them. As kisses went, Spike was later to reflect, it was not one of his better moments. He had meant it as a tease, but as his lips lightly brushed against Willow's instincts took over and he pulled her flush against his body, deepening the kiss and seeking entrance to her mouth. For a moment Willow responded with all the passion that he could ask for, then just as suddenly she froze and pulled away from him. Scrambling to her feet, a difficult job in the unaccustomed heels, she gasped:

"Spike! What are you doing?"

A small corner of his mind noticed that all her idiosyncrasies of speech disappeared when she moved from being flustered to being truly alarmed.

"To tell the truth, pet, I haven't the faintest bloody idea."

He thought he saw the faintest flicker of disappointment cross her face at his response. Well, serve her right for reacting like that. If she'd thought he was going to tell her a load of bollocks about how she drove him crazy with desire she had another think coming. His strange behaviour around her was just a momentary glitch caused by this particular predicament, and if he chose to ignore the fact that every relationship he'd ever had with a woman was caused by a momentary glitch...well that was his own damn business.

"Well, um, don't do it again, I mean, not that you'd want to do it again, but it's just that, well, I, err, it's not that I didn't like it and you're really very nice looking if you like that type, which I don't, but you have tried to kill me and all my friends and anyway I don't like boys anymore, OK?"

Raking a hand through his already dishevelled hair Spike wondered how anyone who still had to breathe could manage a sentence of that length. Whilst it was always possible that the rosy tinge to her cheeks was from incipient asphyxiation rather than embarrassment, he hardly though that it was likely in this particular case. He decided to find out.

"So, you don't like boys anymore, eh? Shall we find out how you feel about demons? All in the cause of research, of course..."

He had been right. The rosy tinge increased in intensity with every syllable and she suddenly seemed to find his feet absolutely fascinating. Fun though this might have been, Spike needed to work with the deal and so he elected to call a truce.

"Ok, ok, I'm only joking. No more funny business, I promise."

"You promise?"

"I just did, didn't I?"

"Yes."

"Right then, you'd better get off and do whatever secret squirreling you need to do and I'd better get off to work. You leave first."

Willow nodded and headed for the stairs. She paused for a moment, looking back at him.

"Spike..."

"Yeah?"

"Oh...nothing. Goodbye."

And with that she was gone. As the sound made by her heels receded into the distance, Spike settled into one of the armchairs and lit a cigarette. He gazed moodily into the fragrant smoke and wondered whether it was possible that things could get even more complicated than they already were. With his current run of luck, the odds were that they would.