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 11: Willow wakes up.
Many hours, and enough champagne to launch several luxury liners later, Spike was roused from his drunken stupor by faint stirrings from beneath then bedclothes as Willow returned to consciousness. He lurched unsteadily from the chair and weaved his way to the bed, collapsing upon the corner and trying to will the world back into focus.
He briefly considered untying her, but decided against it. He had no idea how she'd react and he didn't want her, or him, to do anything stupid.
"Willow?"
She opened her eyes. They were still clouded by the after-effects of the drug, but there was recognition in them this time. She smiled groggily, trying to turn towards him.
"Hey, Spike. What'ya doin' in my bedroom 'n why can't I move?"
Long years of practice with Dru had instilled automatic reactions for this sort of situation that even the shitload of alcohol he had downed couldn't dull. He had always been the one left to deal with her after Angelus had been in a particularly playful mood and, love her though he might, at those times part of him had dreaded what he would see when she opened her eyes.
He brushed Willow's hair from her eyes and spoke in a gentle, almost hypnotic voice never taking his eyes from hers.
"Hey, Pet. Nothing to worry about, Spike's here."
But Willow was not Drusilla and the brief moment of calm was shattered as she suddenly became aware of her predicament and began to struggle against her bonds.
"Spiiike!"
"Shhh..." He reached out as if to calm her, but like a spooked horse she flinched a way from his touch. Abandoning his attempt to calm her, he embraced reason rather than sentiment.
"Willow - It's. All. Right - you're safe."
This approach seemed to work better and she glared up at him, emerald eyes blazing with anger rather than the hysteria he had been dreading.
"Untie me now!"
"OK, OK."
He fumbled with the knots, clumsy fingers failing to find purchase on the silky fibres. At last he succeeded and she wrenched herself away from her bindings. If Spike, whose head was now beginning to pound, expected things to calm down he was sadly mistaken for, as Willow sat up, the coverlet fell to her waist and she realised for the first time that she was stark naked beneath the covers. Clutching the fabric in her fists she dragged it up to her throat, covering the creamy flesh from sight before his alcohol sodden body had a chance to react.
He stood up and moved away from the bed to give her a bit of space. She glared suspiciously at him but made no attempt to bolt, possibly because of her present state of undress.
"I didn't have anything to do with this."
If anything, the look of suspicion on her face intensified. "I...I wake up tied up and naked and the only person in the room is you. I'm supposed to believe that you had nothing to do with it?"
"It's the truth."
"Ha!!"
He made a sweeping gesture with his hand, taking in the luxurious surroundings. "If you recall, this isn't my usual style. When it comes to abducting females I'm more of a dank cellar kind of guy."
Willow's brow furrowed as she thought that one over. "OK - assuming I believe you, and I haven't said I do, then who was it and why?"
Spike inwardly sighed. No matter how he explained this, she wasn't going to like it. "You were a reward."
"A what!"
"A reward for a good job well done. I knew I was getting one, but I didn't know it would be you."
"I don't understand."
He'd been hoping that he wouldn't have to tell her about the press gang, but it seemed that there was no option.
"Look, I oversaw the round-up of the test subjects the other night. It went well and Nat promised me a reward, something soft and warm that wouldn't put up a fight. You were it. Somehow they managed to get one of their drugs into you, one that would make you willing and forgetful. When I couldn't get through to you I knocked you out and spent the night in the armchair."
Willow's eyes widened. "Goddess! I was working late. The Supervisor called me in to tell me what a good job I was doing and how they'd like to offer me a job once I'd finished College. He gave me a cup of coffee and that's the last thing I remember. But why me?"
Spike grimaced. "I took a stroll past your place that night to check you were OK and Nat caught me at it. I had to pretend to fancy you."
Most women would have cavilled at the suggestion that a man had to pretend to fancy them, but Willow simply blushed and let it pass in favour of more important matters. "What's going to happen to me now?"
Shrugging his shoulders Spike replied "Nothing much. I was told not to mark you so I guess you're supposed to wake up somewhere none the wiser. My guess would be the Infirmary."
"And how do I get there?"
"I suppose they'll come and get...oh, crap." Understanding kicked in as Spike realised belatedly that someone would be along shortly to transport Willow home. "Knocking you out instead of shagging you senseless must have altered the time it takes for the drug to wear off. You're not supposed to be yourself yet."
As if summoned by his fears, he heard footsteps on the outer stairs. Quickly he began to tear off his clothes and hurl them haphazardly to the floor. Willow looked on, with eyes like saucers. Despite the danger, a small part of him noted smugly that she didn't look away as he stripped.
"They're coming to get you. So we've got to make this look convincing. Lie down and make like you've passed out with exhaustion." He ripped back the bedding and crawled in, winding himself around her rigid form.
"Relax for Christ's sake, or we'll never pull this off."
Her response was unexpected. "B...but, you're so c...cold."
He grinned wryly "Yeah, being a corpse'll do that to you. Still, I'm warming up."
Many a true word was spoken in jest. Despite the copious amount of alcohol he had imbibed earlier, his body was reacting to her closeness in more than one way - and he was too closely pressed against her for his reaction to be missed. Fortunately for all concerned, the sound of the key in the lock was enough to stifle further conversation. Willow relaxed limply into his embrace as he turned his face into her hair and closed his eyes in preparation for the new arrivals.
Disclaimer: Any characters and locations from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series are the property of Mutant Enemy
Chapter 11: Willow wakes up.
Many hours, and enough champagne to launch several luxury liners later, Spike was roused from his drunken stupor by faint stirrings from beneath then bedclothes as Willow returned to consciousness. He lurched unsteadily from the chair and weaved his way to the bed, collapsing upon the corner and trying to will the world back into focus.
He briefly considered untying her, but decided against it. He had no idea how she'd react and he didn't want her, or him, to do anything stupid.
"Willow?"
She opened her eyes. They were still clouded by the after-effects of the drug, but there was recognition in them this time. She smiled groggily, trying to turn towards him.
"Hey, Spike. What'ya doin' in my bedroom 'n why can't I move?"
Long years of practice with Dru had instilled automatic reactions for this sort of situation that even the shitload of alcohol he had downed couldn't dull. He had always been the one left to deal with her after Angelus had been in a particularly playful mood and, love her though he might, at those times part of him had dreaded what he would see when she opened her eyes.
He brushed Willow's hair from her eyes and spoke in a gentle, almost hypnotic voice never taking his eyes from hers.
"Hey, Pet. Nothing to worry about, Spike's here."
But Willow was not Drusilla and the brief moment of calm was shattered as she suddenly became aware of her predicament and began to struggle against her bonds.
"Spiiike!"
"Shhh..." He reached out as if to calm her, but like a spooked horse she flinched a way from his touch. Abandoning his attempt to calm her, he embraced reason rather than sentiment.
"Willow - It's. All. Right - you're safe."
This approach seemed to work better and she glared up at him, emerald eyes blazing with anger rather than the hysteria he had been dreading.
"Untie me now!"
"OK, OK."
He fumbled with the knots, clumsy fingers failing to find purchase on the silky fibres. At last he succeeded and she wrenched herself away from her bindings. If Spike, whose head was now beginning to pound, expected things to calm down he was sadly mistaken for, as Willow sat up, the coverlet fell to her waist and she realised for the first time that she was stark naked beneath the covers. Clutching the fabric in her fists she dragged it up to her throat, covering the creamy flesh from sight before his alcohol sodden body had a chance to react.
He stood up and moved away from the bed to give her a bit of space. She glared suspiciously at him but made no attempt to bolt, possibly because of her present state of undress.
"I didn't have anything to do with this."
If anything, the look of suspicion on her face intensified. "I...I wake up tied up and naked and the only person in the room is you. I'm supposed to believe that you had nothing to do with it?"
"It's the truth."
"Ha!!"
He made a sweeping gesture with his hand, taking in the luxurious surroundings. "If you recall, this isn't my usual style. When it comes to abducting females I'm more of a dank cellar kind of guy."
Willow's brow furrowed as she thought that one over. "OK - assuming I believe you, and I haven't said I do, then who was it and why?"
Spike inwardly sighed. No matter how he explained this, she wasn't going to like it. "You were a reward."
"A what!"
"A reward for a good job well done. I knew I was getting one, but I didn't know it would be you."
"I don't understand."
He'd been hoping that he wouldn't have to tell her about the press gang, but it seemed that there was no option.
"Look, I oversaw the round-up of the test subjects the other night. It went well and Nat promised me a reward, something soft and warm that wouldn't put up a fight. You were it. Somehow they managed to get one of their drugs into you, one that would make you willing and forgetful. When I couldn't get through to you I knocked you out and spent the night in the armchair."
Willow's eyes widened. "Goddess! I was working late. The Supervisor called me in to tell me what a good job I was doing and how they'd like to offer me a job once I'd finished College. He gave me a cup of coffee and that's the last thing I remember. But why me?"
Spike grimaced. "I took a stroll past your place that night to check you were OK and Nat caught me at it. I had to pretend to fancy you."
Most women would have cavilled at the suggestion that a man had to pretend to fancy them, but Willow simply blushed and let it pass in favour of more important matters. "What's going to happen to me now?"
Shrugging his shoulders Spike replied "Nothing much. I was told not to mark you so I guess you're supposed to wake up somewhere none the wiser. My guess would be the Infirmary."
"And how do I get there?"
"I suppose they'll come and get...oh, crap." Understanding kicked in as Spike realised belatedly that someone would be along shortly to transport Willow home. "Knocking you out instead of shagging you senseless must have altered the time it takes for the drug to wear off. You're not supposed to be yourself yet."
As if summoned by his fears, he heard footsteps on the outer stairs. Quickly he began to tear off his clothes and hurl them haphazardly to the floor. Willow looked on, with eyes like saucers. Despite the danger, a small part of him noted smugly that she didn't look away as he stripped.
"They're coming to get you. So we've got to make this look convincing. Lie down and make like you've passed out with exhaustion." He ripped back the bedding and crawled in, winding himself around her rigid form.
"Relax for Christ's sake, or we'll never pull this off."
Her response was unexpected. "B...but, you're so c...cold."
He grinned wryly "Yeah, being a corpse'll do that to you. Still, I'm warming up."
Many a true word was spoken in jest. Despite the copious amount of alcohol he had imbibed earlier, his body was reacting to her closeness in more than one way - and he was too closely pressed against her for his reaction to be missed. Fortunately for all concerned, the sound of the key in the lock was enough to stifle further conversation. Willow relaxed limply into his embrace as he turned his face into her hair and closed his eyes in preparation for the new arrivals.
