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 10: Spike receives his reward for a job well done.

Things had indeed gone well on the evening of the grand snatch. Nat had accompanied Spike on the rest of his rounds and found that, not only had the quotas been filled, but that no one seemed to be any the wiser. That included the Slayer, who had encountered and dusted a few of the strategically placed minions during the evening but did not seem to have put two and two together to realise that it was part of a bigger scheme. It was, therefore, with renewed confidence that Spike returned to the complex the next night.

As soon has he arrived he had word that Nat wanted to see him. When he turned up at the other vampire's office, however, all he had found was a large envelope with the words "Bonus" on the front. When Spike opened the envelope he found a key inside and the address of a flat in one of the more exclusive areas of the town. Figuring that he was not expected on duty that evening, Spike headed on out.

Arriving at the flat, Spike let himself in. The flat was well appointed and luxurious. The hall and lounge were empty, as was the kitchen - although, upon checking, the refrigerator was well stocked with not only bags of blood lifted from the local hospital but also bottles of champagne. Spike took a bag of blood and bit into it greedily. Once it was drained he discarded the wrapper and then tucked a bottle of Bolly under his arm before setting off to investigate the rest of the rooms.

The flat was spacious, with multiple rooms exiting off a secondary internal hallway. The first few doors he tried led to rooms that were as empty as those that he had left behind him. Then he reached the door to the master bedroom. On the door was a note in Nat's handwriting - "You like her and she's willing. Have fun, but don't damage the goods!"

He opened the door. The room was large and luxurious, if you liked 1990's corporate decoration, but it was not this that drew Spike's eyes. In the middle of the room was a king-sized bed and upon it, looking very small and very naked, was Willow. She was roped to the headboard, but from what he could see she seemed to feel no discomfort or fear. Her unfocussed eyes reflected nothing of the panic and embarrassment she should have been experiencing.

Damnation - if this didn't put him in one hell of a quandary. If it had been anyone else lying before him, he would have been in there before you could say, "Bob's your Uncle", but this was Willow and it complicated matters to an almost unbelievable extent. Putting the unopened bottle of Champagne upon the nearest surface, he walked slowly to the bed and sat down on the edge. He reached out and touched Willow's cheek. Finally she reacted, turning her head and smiling weakly at him.

He spoke her name, "Willow?"

There was no recognition in her eyes. He tried again:

"Willow? It's Spike, do you know me?"

Again, there was no recognition, but this time Willow closed her eyes contentedly and rubbed her cheek against his hand. She began writhing and pulling on the ropes that bound her, her breath coming in shallow bursts. Definitely drugged, and with more than just a sedative if Willow's reaction was anything to go by. He wondered what else Reculance were cooking up in their labs and whether Nat was taking the opportunity to test another of their products. Given that Nat had expressed his admiration of Willow's abilities and had an interest in her future with the Company, he guessed that the drug would cause no lasting effects. He also assumed that Willow would have no recollection of the events of this evening. It was all so very tempting.

Spike realised that Willow was becoming increasingly agitated. He fought against the urge to simply take what was on offer; after all he couldn't deny that the sight before him was something that had haunted some of his more pleasurable fantasies of late. His hand left her cheek, tracing down her collarbone and over the gentle curve of her breasts. Willow whimpered, her nipples tightening under his hand. He continued his exploration of her pale white skin, the delicate rib cage, the slight swell of her stomach and, bypassing the triangle of auburn curls, on down to the tautness of her thighs.

Willow's moans took on an edge of desperation as she moved restlessly beneath the teasing friction of his fingertips.

"Please, oh please..."

Her body arched up, seeking his touch in a place as yet unexplored. His hand hovered over her as once more he tried to draw a flicker of recognition.

"Willow, Willow..."

Her eyes remained closed, as if she was lost in some inner fantasy. Spike cursed the name of every god he had ever known. It had been so very long since he'd had a woman and he wanted this so very much, but this wasn't just some faceless slapper - this was Willow, a woman who he had come to like and respect over the past few weeks. A little voice still whispered in his ear, "she'll never know"...but he would know. When he took her, and he was going to take her, he wanted her to know whom it was that was doing it and he wanted her to want him too. It wasn't that he had finer feelings, he was a demon so he wouldn't know one of those if it fell on him, but he had this cursed habit of getting all possessive over the women in his life. That was Angelus' fault, along with his need to prove himself all the time. Sadly, knowing you were acting irrationally didn't help you deal with a situation like this, particularly when you hadn't had a shag since Harmony.

So, however stupid it might seem, he wasn't going to take advantage of the situation. But he couldn't leave her like this. Whatever it was that Nat had doped her with, it seemed that there was an obvious way to assuage the fire that it had ignited. Since he wasn't prepared to do that at present, there was only one alternative. Bracing himself, he balled his fist and struck her hard. The pain ricocheted through is brain like a freight train and he cradled his head in his hands as he tried to ride it out.

When his sight returned he saw that Willow was now unconscious and limp against her bonds. Picking up the coverlet from the end of the bed, he threw it over her naked form and staggered to a chair in the corner of the room. Popping open the bottle of champagne, he decided to get as pissed as he possibly could.