SUMMARY: Spike gets a new toy he wasn't expecting, and Willow finds out that life--and Gods--can sometimes throw humans for a loop.
TITLE: Order Now (10/?)
AUTHOR: sinecure
RATED: R
DISCLAIMER: Joss and ME own BtVS, I don't, and the way these past seasons are going, I'm glad I don't.
DEDICATED: To Claudia, because, not only is she the best beta ever, but she's also quite the friend. She kicks ass on grammar--just call her the Hyphen Queen, I do--spelling, characterization, plot. She makes my job a whole hell of a lot easier... even when she's killing my poor little defenseless plot-babies. ;)
PART 10
Willow started awake when someone knocked on the front door. She almost dropped her laptop to the floor, but caught it as it started to slide down her legs. Setting it on the cushion beside her, she frowned, trying to orient herself.
Dawn poked her head into the front room with a cheerful, "I'll get it!" Then disappeared toward the front door.
"Dawn, wait." Willow untucked her feet and stood up, shaking off the dizziness of standing up too quickly. "Don't--"
"It's only Spike," Dawn called back in an irritated tone. "And he can't come--"
"Hey, Short Stuff," Spike called to Dawn as he passed by her and moved straight into the living room.
"--in," Dawn finished before slamming the door shut and standing there with her hands on her hips. "Why can he come in? Does Buffy know about this?"
"Giles knows," Willow answered, frowning as she thought about it. "I don't know if Buffy--"
"She knows," Spike said flatly, taking his duster off and tossing it over the arm of the couch. "I was still here when she came home."
"Oh." That was news to Willow. "I thought you left after I fell asleep," she admitted, sitting back down with a sigh of comfort. She could hardly remember what it felt like to be pain-free anymore.
He sat in the chair, sitting forward a bit intently. "Find anything?" He gestured toward her laptop, raising an eyebrow questioningly. When she shook her head, he nodded with a sigh. "Hey, Bit? Gonna stand over my shoulder glaring at me for the entire time I'm here?"
Dawn cleared her throat loudly and shifted from one foot to the other. "Maybe." She dropped her arms to her sides with a frustrated sigh. "You chained my sister up and set your pet vampire on her." Her accusing eyes settled on Willow. "Why are you even talking to him?"
Good question, Willow thought. Why was she talking to him? An even better question was why was she thinking about his hands on her back, his lips settling over hers, and his tongue doing the neatest things to her body? Picking up her laptop, she settled it on her thighs. "Dawn, go finish your homework."
Dawn huffed and shifted her feet, looking like she wanted to protest, but she simply stomped out of the room.
Spike tossed a look behind him and quickly stood up, joining her on the couch. "So why are you?"
Willow shrugged, unsure herself. He hadn't hurt Buffy... well, aside from tazering her sort of and almost getting her killed by Drusilla and Harmony. Again, she wasn't sure of the answer. "You protected her from Drusilla and Harmony," she said simply, fidgeting with the cord to her laptop. It'd come undone while she slept and the battery had run done some time ago. Plugging it back in, she restarted the computer and kept from looking at Spike.
"That right?" He moved closer, tossing another look toward the dining room to make sure Dawn wasn't watching. "Sure it's not something else?"
"Like what?" she asked innocently, pretending not to know what he was talking about. "You've helped Buffy. You helped me a couple of times. I--" she smiled a little tiny smile and shrugged. "I guess I sort of like you. As a friend," she hurriedly added.
"A friend," he repeated, nodding in consideration. "It's a start." Before she could comment on that statement, he tipped the laptop screen back a little and moved closer to her, making a big show of not being able to see well. "Could you tilt it just a little...? Perfect, thanks."
Willow went back to her Internet search, ignoring Spike as much as she could with his arm once again touching hers and his leg pressing close to her own. Sure liked the touching thing, didn't he? Okay, she could handle it. Absolutely.
"What have you tried so far? Witch hunter, wiccan hunter, witch killer?" He eyed her quickly, before returning his attention back to the screen. He actually seemed to be gaining interest in the computer. This was a good thing.
"All those. And Wickaninnish, which brought up a beach on Vancouver Island, and an inn... but not a whole lot on witch killers." She clicked a promising link that mentioned wiccans and then trailed off, but once there the black background and blood-dripping letters had her pressing the back button. "What's this guy do anyway? Do we know? Well, do you know, because I know nothing. Out-of-the-loop girl. That's me."
"Pity doesn't suit you well, love," Spike chastised, pointing to another search link. "Try that one." As she clicked on it and waited for it to load, he continued. "It steals their power. Sucks them dry."
"Ew. How?" She had visions of Glory sticking her hands inside her head and slinking around inside. The memory of that feeling alone was enough to make her squirm. It had felt dirty and intrusive. Violating. She hoped the witches being killed weren't suffering something similar. "Glory did this..." she held her hands out in front of her, mimicking Glory's movements, "brain sucking thing. Well, you were there."
The page of promise held nothing more than herbal recipes and spells, a personal Book of Shadows... oh, and it also sold things, like candles and athames. Hey, this could be helpful to her in future. Mmm, scented candles. And incense. Of course, Giles carried that stuff too. Back button again.
"It doesn't work the same way." He sat back a little, giving her some space to breathe and shift maybe if she wanted to.
No, don't shift toward him, you idiot. She rolled her eyes at herself and rolled her shoulders back, masking her movement toward him with trying to relieve her aching back. "What's it do? Details might help. I could search that."
"Your back hurting?" he asked instead of answering her. His eyes found hers, a seductive smile creeping up his lips. "Need some more salve?"
"Uh, no," she denied, wanting nothing more than to jump to her feet and scream for the world to hear just how much she did indeed need more salve. And for that salve to be applied by Spike, and Spike alone. But she didn't and she wouldn't. "Nope. I'm good."
"Really," he said slyly. "Then, why is Dawn standing back there with the jar of salve in her hand, shifting from foot to foot, waiting for the best time to interrupt?"
Willow looked from Spike's smug face to the empty foyer. "Dawn?" she called, not really expecting her to answer, at least not from the foyer. "Whatcha doing?"
Dawn stepped forward, looking a bit sheepish and caught. "Um... Giles mentioned the salve and I figured, Spike should go now so I can do that." She tossed a glare in his direction, raising her chin as she turned her attention back to Willow.
"I'm fine, Dawn, I don't need it. Now." She ducked her head, going back to her search, wishing the two of them would leave her alone about the salve. Yes, she needed some right now and, yes, she wanted it applied. But she didn't want Spike to leave so Dawn could do it. She wanted Dawn to leave so Spike could do it. "Way fine, just... perfect. Thanks, though."
Dawn sighed, acting like a ten-year-old as she shrugged and started out of the room. "Whatever. But when he kills you," she muttered, "I don't wanna hear about it."
Willow burst out laughing, trying to hide it from Dawn, but judging by her stiffening back, she'd heard.
"Hey, Half-pint, toss me that stuff, would ya?" He held his hands out to catch the jar, looking oh-so-innocently in Dawn's direction.
Dawn turned back around, her eyes narrowing on Spike. "Why?" She looked at Willow, and had to catch the widened eyes and blush creeping up Willow's cheeks as she ducked her head even further to her task. "Willow?"
"I'll put it on, pet. You go do your school stuff." He was acting as if nothing had changed between him and Dawn, and that was throwing Dawn's snit off.
She frowned, wanting to agree, but her common sense got the better of her. "No."
Willow sighed in relief. Good, she didn't need to explain to Dawn why he wanted it, though she was a bright girl and there was only one reason for him to want the salve. Unless he was curious about the smell of it, he was so obviously going to try to apply it to Willow's back.
Dawn's attention was still on Willow however. Noting the lack of protests from her and the blush still heating her face, Dawn's eyes widened at Willow and she tossed the jar at Spike, narrowly missing his face. Without a word, she turned on her heel and headed out of the room. There was dead silence, similar to the calm before a storm.
"She's calling Buffy," Willow sighed, glaring at Spike. "What's wrong with you? I don't need, or want you to put that junk on me." She twisted in her seat, moving from side to side, showing him how unhurt she was. "See? All better."
He nodded, watching her move with a critical eye. His hand reached out suddenly and pressed against her shoulder blade, forcing a cry of pain from her. "I can see how better you are." He opened the jar and scooted back, giving her room to lay down. "Look, I'm just trying to help. That's all."
"Right. And I'm Glinda, the good witch." Maybe now was the time to tell him what she suspected. It might make him angry, and anxious to kill her, but he deserved the truth. "I think it's a spell."
He glanced up at her absently before holding the jar to his nose and pulling it away in disgust. Like it was going to smell better suddenly. "What is? The salve? Or your back?"
She lost her nerve. Something inside her was happy about his feelings toward her, whatever they were, and why-ever they were there. She wanted them to continue. Wanted him to want her, because, she really did want him. "The-- um, never mind. I was thinking about... something else." Sighing heavily, knowing she was putting herself into a position of badness, she stretched out on the couch and let him lift her shirt.
The first touch of his fingers as they grazed her back, raised goose bumps on her skin, making her shiver. She held her breath, waiting to feel his hands on her, waiting for that erotic feeling of Spike's hands, covered in something cold and wet sliding along her back, easing her muscles and beginning the process of turning her on to the point of insanity.
Okay, so she'd thought way too much about this. His hands were not erotic, and they didn't make her all hot and bothered with a single touch.
When they finally did touch her, they weren't cold, or covered in salve. He slid them along the middle of her back, caressing and rubbing in all the right spots to make her moan, which she did quietly. After a few seconds of the delicious feeling, she managed to remind him why they were doing this. "Salve," she muttered, swallowing thickly. "It works better if you use it."
"Mm." He didn't so much say it as he voiced it. Just a rumble in his chest. He leaned forward. She felt his shirt brush across her back, and then his lips, though they didn't touch her. He whispered in her ear, his voice husky and filled with the same thing she was filled with. Desire, and lots of it. "What are you doing to me?"
She went still, knowing this was the time to tell him. To be honest. "A spell," she blurted out. "I-- I think it's a spell."
His hands halted on her waist, squeezing her a little too hard. "What?" he forced out between stiff lips. "You did a spell on me? Again?"
Oh, and there was definitely fury there. Definitely some big-time anger. And deservedly so. She turned on her side to look at him, her eyes filled with apology. She opened her mouth to say yes, but then just nodded and dropped her eyes.
"What is it this time?" he ground out, pushing to his feet to stare down at her. He twisted the lid back on the jar with enough force to break it, but didn't. Slamming the jar down on the table, he paced away. "What in bloody hell is the matter with you, Willow? Your magick is a hazard to you and everyone else around you." He paced back, dropping to the couch beside her, taking her face in his hands. "What did you do to me?"
She tried to pull away from his hands, but he held her there, glaring at her, making her feel about two inches tall. "I don't know. Giles said the magick from that night might still be with me, and that's when I noticed this-- this thing for you... but I didn't know. I didn't do, you know, whatever I did, on purpose."
He frowned, loosening his hands on her cheeks, rubbing his thumbs absently against her temples. "The night you killed Glory?"
She nodded, fighting tears, not wanting him to run from her. Not wanting him to go back to wanting Buffy. If he'd ever stopped. Or his girlfriend. Ugh, her life was so messed up.
He laughed deeply, shaking his head at her. "This started before then, love. You didn't do it; at least not with magick." He leaned forward, pressing his lips lightly to hers. "It's real."
She stared back at him in obvious disbelief. He'd had a woman in his crypt the night she killed Glory, that much was painfully obvious to anyone with eyes and ears. "Before then? How-- how long before then? Because, you know, I walked in on you and..."
He sighed, settling more comfortably on the floor, sliding his hands down to her shoulders and then her hands. "That was just a diversion. Didn't work," he said with a dismissive shrug. "I'm not sure when I started falling for you. But the night I ran into you at the Magic Box? I--"
"Wait a second," Willow cut him off abruptly. "What do you do mean 'just a diversion'?" She tried to pull her hands out of his, but he resisted. "You trying out for the Don Juan of the year award?" she asked, only half-joking. "And what about Buffy? I thought you loved her."
Spike looked up, embarrassed and angry. "Since that spell you cast, where we were engaged..." he glanced away for a split-second, his face distracted, "I've been drawn to her, obsessed even. It was so intense, I didn't know what to call it other than love. But it was never the same as what I felt for Dru. Or for you."
Willow's face was still tight, but her heart was no longer racing and she was no longer trying to move away. He continued doggedly even as Willow kept her face turned away.
"There hadn't been anyone since Harm. Buffy wouldn't give me the time of day and you were with Tara." Spike's voice trailed off for a moment as he shrugged uncomfortably. "I needed someone for a while, you know?"
Something melted in Willow when she heard that stark declaration. That kind of loneliness was something she could relate to. Big time. And at least she knew his feelings for her were there before the magick mess-up. And before her spell to talk to Diana as well. That was all good news. Wonderful news. But then she frowned suddenly, remembering something else. "You did sniff me!"
He shrugged one shoulder, looking anything but apologetic. "Can't help it." Dropping her hands, he stood up, resuming his seat beside her. Her shirt was lifted again, his hand landing on her shoulder to press her down softly. "You should bottle that scent." He leaned forward, inhaling deeply, dropping a kiss on her shoulder, then her neck. Lower, to the middle of her back.
She squirmed, feeling so naughty for allowing Spike to touch her and kiss her, to caress her and smell her. And last night, she'd felt parts of him that she'd almost gotten a glimpse of that night in his crypt. Felt his erection; cradled it between her legs, rocked against it very briefly, just for a moment before coming to her senses.
"Spike," she whispered, closing her eyes and resting her head on her hands, "as good as that feels, and, boy does that feel good, I don't think you should... we shouldn't. At all. Ever." She wanted to whine and pout and cry. Doing the right thing was always hard, no matter what anyone said.
"Why not, love?" He was whispering in her ear again, not playing fair at all. "We're adults, we can make our own decisions." His hands tightened on her waist again, rubbing harder. "Don't let Buffy make this one for you."
Buffy. That was very possibly the last thing he should've said. She tried to sit up, but he held her still, grabbing the jar and making a show of opening it and scooping some out. "You still have feelings for her," she protested. "And I love Tara."
"Let's not," he said darkly, slathering a healthy amount of the salve onto her back. He slowly and gently rubbed it in, but there was no sensuousness to it this time. "Let's not bring them into this, okay?"
All business-like, he finished rubbing the ointment in and capped it, wiping his hands on his jeans. Setting the jar down on the table, he turned to her with a baleful look.
"Why do you do that? Think everything through until there's nothing left but the facts, minus feelings, minus intuition, minus everything. And then you reason it through some more and come out with the only logical answer for yourself: That it's wrong."
Willow sat up, pulling her shirt down. It stuck in a few places and she couldn't reach back far enough to unstick it. Spike sighed, reaching behind her to loosen it. "I don't do that. I've-- I've done a lot of wrong things. A lot. I mean, hello, spells? You just got through yelling at me about them." She took a quick drink of her soda and stood up. "See? Stupid idea, leading to nothing but-- mm." The moan wasn't a part of her angry rant, but it more than expressed how Spike's lips on hers felt.
His mouth opened on hers, his hands gripping her arms and pulling her toward him. One of his hands slid down her back, very lightly, and landed on her butt, pressing her even closer to him, letting her feel the reaction she'd had on him.
She hoped it was from her.
"That," he said, pulling away to kiss her jaw, "is in no way a bad thing, Willow." He kissed her again, more deeply this time, before sliding his tongue along her lower lip. "I want you--the real you--and I'll do just about anything to have you."
Willow's mind was stuck back on the wanting part. Spike wanted her. That much was very obvious, the results of that want were currently pressing into her abdomen. It felt good, so very good. She missed being wanted. Tara had wanted her until the end, as she'd wanted Tara, but it was different. And then the killing of Glory, and the isolation from her friends, and being cooped up in the house.
She was needy, and she admitted it. Needed a whole lot of contact to feel alive. To feel worthy.
And she wanted. Wanted someone to touch her. A touch that made her feel beautiful and loved.
She kissed him back, sliding her arms around his waist, to keep him there, to let him know she didn't want him to leave. Even if she said she did. Pulling back for air, she rested her head against his shoulder, staring at the white expanse of flesh visible above the collar. It looked so soft. Touchable. She glanced up at him, then back at his neck.
Sliding her hand along his shoulder, she explored his skin, touching him just where she wanted to, how she wanted to. She leaned forward, pressing a kiss on his neck, which he seemed to like, since he sighed, then she moved lower, pulling the shirt down so she could reach more of him. She kissed his shoulder, then his chest, the small bit she could see, and lowered the shirt further.
He dipped his head to capture her mouth, kissing her so hard she had to fight to keep her balance. His hands went around her again, resting on her butt to hold her still. His mouth moved over hers, demanding in its urgency. Her hands slid further into his shirt, the fingers of her right hand brushing over something strange.
She moved away, not allowing him to recapture her mouth, much as she wanted to. Frowning, she pulled his shirt away from his shoulder and looked down at it. "What is... that?" she asked, trailing away when she saw the bite mark.
"Got bit last night," he said, looking down at the bite. "Hurt like a bugger too." His hands brought her closer, his eyes caressing her face with the promise of sensual things to come.
Her mind was doing that thing he'd only just accused her of doing. Working overtime. The bite wasn't from a vampire, it looked human. How had a human bitten him? Why had a human bitten him?
"What happened?" She looked up at him, waiting for an answer.
He smiled and kissed her lightly. "Lairman demon. It wanted my crypt; I didn't wanna give it up." He shrugged, looking unconcerned. "It's not that bad a bite."
"Okay." She believed him. Why would he lie? Unless he'd gotten the chip out or it was malfunctioning... which was a possibility. But he wasn't acting weird or cagey, so she decided to believe him. "Did you clean it? What if the demon has rabies or something demon-y?"
"It's fine," he said, dismissing her concern with a wink. "However, other parts of me are not so fortunate." He shook his head sadly, the mock regret in his voice making her crack a smile.
"Oh, really. And, uh, where would these other parts be?" She held a hand to his forehead. "Here?"
"Lower. Much lower," he whispered, taking her hand from his forehead and guiding it to his thigh. "Now you're getting warm."
"So are you," she noted, nodding wisely as she slid her hand around to cup his butt. "This it?" Her laugh was smothered by his mouth, cutting off her taunt about-- what was it again? Who cared? Her arms went around him in surrender, her mouth moving against his with abandon. His hands cupped her butt, lifting her against him, letting her feel every inch of his lean, muscular body.
He tore his mouth from hers, trailing frantic kisses along her jaw and neck, settling on the pulse point there. He paused for a brief moment, then nibbled her ear, licking the flesh below it. "How do manage to smell different every time I see you?"
She shrugged, dropping her head to the side with a gasp. Desire curled up in her belly, sending shocks of want and need through her. "I don't know," she admitted, having no idea what he smelled coming from her. "I don't wear perfume-- oh, that tickles," she giggled, standing on her tiptoes to give him better access.
"Apples and cinnamon that night in the magic shop." He ran his tongue along her jaw, grinding against her a little. "Vanilla last night." One hand slipped under her shirt, the cool skin of his palm, rough and callused, touching her stomach and breasts, pushing her bra out of his way. "Tonight," he breathed, drawing in a sudden, sharp breath, "tonight you smell like cherries." He went still, holding her tightly to him, opening his eyes as he raised his head to look over her shoulder. "We have company."
It took a minute for his words to sink in. As he pulled away, he dropped his hands to his sides, then lifted one, rubbing a hand across his forehead and she finally understood what he'd said. She stood still, afraid to turn and look to see who it was. She cradled her head in her hands, horrified by being caught kissing and groping Spike.
"Oh God," she whispered, her face flaming as bright as her hair. She licked her lips, taking in a few deep breaths before turning to face the accusatory look of-- "Dawnie."
Dawn's face showed nothing more than shock and disbelief. "Willow?" she said in confusion, her frown widening as she took in every detail of their disheveled and flushed faces. "I-- I--" she shook her head, unable to absorb what was obviously happening. "Oh, wow." Her eyes widened, her breath leaving her in a sharp exhalation. "But." She looked toward the door. "What about Buffy?" she practically yelled.
Spike sighed impatiently. "What about her?" Dropping to the couch, he kicked at the coffee table, almost petulantly. "She wants nothing to do with me. And I don't think I want anything to do with her either." His eyes lifted to Willow's. "Not anymore."
Willow was relieved; that certainly helped her deal with it all. And how. "Dawn, I didn't... well, we weren't..." very believable, Willow, very much not a lie. "Buffy doesn't want--"
Dawn sighed heavily, gesturing toward the door. "I mean, what about what she's going to do when she comes in here and finds the two of you practically-- well, you know what-ing, here in her living room?" She moved past them to kneel on the couch and look out the window, moving the curtain aside. "She's on her way home."
"What?" Willow gasped, darting a look around the living room as if Buffy had just magickally popped in. "When? No, wait, it doesn't matter." She turned to the man she wanted to take upstairs, even now. "You need to go. She'll-- well, I don't know what she'll do, but it can't be good."
"Yeah, and?" He stood up, gesturing to Dawn to leave them alone. For once, Dawn didn't argue or complain; she went silently, keeping watch at the front door. "I told you earlier, you're an adult. Time to make your own decisions, Willow."
"But, I can't," she told him, shaking her head frantically. "I'm not ready to do that yet. Not now, not while I'm still hurt and unable to fight back with--"
He burst out laughing, rubbing her arms with his hands. "You don't think she's going to hurt you, do you?" He shook his head with another laugh, kissing her forehead. "You're so damn..." he trailed off, sighing as he shook his head, at a loss, "amusing." His chuckles deepened, following her as she paced away.
She tossed him a scoffing look. "I meant verbally. You know there's going to be huge fighting. And I'm not feeling a hundred percent." Stopping in front of him again, she dropped her head back and sighed. "Buffy will not be okay with this. Ever." She stared at him, looking at his beautiful face, so full of... desire. That's all there was, and a little amusement. Possibly some disappointment that she didn't want to tell Buffy about them.
"All right," he agreed, nodding once as he grabbed his duster from the chair. "We stay silent until you're ready to ask your friends for permission to see someone you want to see."
His scornful eyes and clenched jaw almost changed her mind, but she stuck to her guns. She moved forward, resting her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, I-- I just can't yet."
"Okay, well, when you grow a backbone, let me know. If I'm still interested..." he shrugged, turning on his heel and heading into the foyer.
"Hey," she called angrily, "you're giving me orders here?" She followed after him, moving better since the salve went to work on her a few minutes ago. "I have backbone, mister. I'm just not as fickle as you are."
Ignoring Dawn's rapt attention on them, Spike strode toward the door, yanking it open and standing in the entrance. He turned back around to face Willow, his voice low and even. "There's only one woman in my life now and that's you."
Willow's anger left her in a flood of regret, leaving her feeling drained. "Spike, I'm sorry--"
"Save it. But you better make up your mind soon, because I won't wait around forever." He stepped outside and closed the door behind him, leaving a pregnant silence in his wake.
"Are you okay?" Dawn asked quietly. "I mean, I don't get it. Don't even pretend to understand what's going on here, but... are you all right?"
Willow nodded, turning away before the tears could fall. In the forefront of her mind was a nagging question: Since when was Spike someone she cried over? Heading back into the front room, she sat on the couch, staring at the wall in front of her.
Dawn came in a few seconds later and sat beside her. "I'm sorry."
Willow smiled sadly. "It doesn't matter. It probably wouldn't have worked anyway."
TITLE: Order Now (10/?)
AUTHOR: sinecure
RATED: R
DISCLAIMER: Joss and ME own BtVS, I don't, and the way these past seasons are going, I'm glad I don't.
DEDICATED: To Claudia, because, not only is she the best beta ever, but she's also quite the friend. She kicks ass on grammar--just call her the Hyphen Queen, I do--spelling, characterization, plot. She makes my job a whole hell of a lot easier... even when she's killing my poor little defenseless plot-babies. ;)
PART 10
Willow started awake when someone knocked on the front door. She almost dropped her laptop to the floor, but caught it as it started to slide down her legs. Setting it on the cushion beside her, she frowned, trying to orient herself.
Dawn poked her head into the front room with a cheerful, "I'll get it!" Then disappeared toward the front door.
"Dawn, wait." Willow untucked her feet and stood up, shaking off the dizziness of standing up too quickly. "Don't--"
"It's only Spike," Dawn called back in an irritated tone. "And he can't come--"
"Hey, Short Stuff," Spike called to Dawn as he passed by her and moved straight into the living room.
"--in," Dawn finished before slamming the door shut and standing there with her hands on her hips. "Why can he come in? Does Buffy know about this?"
"Giles knows," Willow answered, frowning as she thought about it. "I don't know if Buffy--"
"She knows," Spike said flatly, taking his duster off and tossing it over the arm of the couch. "I was still here when she came home."
"Oh." That was news to Willow. "I thought you left after I fell asleep," she admitted, sitting back down with a sigh of comfort. She could hardly remember what it felt like to be pain-free anymore.
He sat in the chair, sitting forward a bit intently. "Find anything?" He gestured toward her laptop, raising an eyebrow questioningly. When she shook her head, he nodded with a sigh. "Hey, Bit? Gonna stand over my shoulder glaring at me for the entire time I'm here?"
Dawn cleared her throat loudly and shifted from one foot to the other. "Maybe." She dropped her arms to her sides with a frustrated sigh. "You chained my sister up and set your pet vampire on her." Her accusing eyes settled on Willow. "Why are you even talking to him?"
Good question, Willow thought. Why was she talking to him? An even better question was why was she thinking about his hands on her back, his lips settling over hers, and his tongue doing the neatest things to her body? Picking up her laptop, she settled it on her thighs. "Dawn, go finish your homework."
Dawn huffed and shifted her feet, looking like she wanted to protest, but she simply stomped out of the room.
Spike tossed a look behind him and quickly stood up, joining her on the couch. "So why are you?"
Willow shrugged, unsure herself. He hadn't hurt Buffy... well, aside from tazering her sort of and almost getting her killed by Drusilla and Harmony. Again, she wasn't sure of the answer. "You protected her from Drusilla and Harmony," she said simply, fidgeting with the cord to her laptop. It'd come undone while she slept and the battery had run done some time ago. Plugging it back in, she restarted the computer and kept from looking at Spike.
"That right?" He moved closer, tossing another look toward the dining room to make sure Dawn wasn't watching. "Sure it's not something else?"
"Like what?" she asked innocently, pretending not to know what he was talking about. "You've helped Buffy. You helped me a couple of times. I--" she smiled a little tiny smile and shrugged. "I guess I sort of like you. As a friend," she hurriedly added.
"A friend," he repeated, nodding in consideration. "It's a start." Before she could comment on that statement, he tipped the laptop screen back a little and moved closer to her, making a big show of not being able to see well. "Could you tilt it just a little...? Perfect, thanks."
Willow went back to her Internet search, ignoring Spike as much as she could with his arm once again touching hers and his leg pressing close to her own. Sure liked the touching thing, didn't he? Okay, she could handle it. Absolutely.
"What have you tried so far? Witch hunter, wiccan hunter, witch killer?" He eyed her quickly, before returning his attention back to the screen. He actually seemed to be gaining interest in the computer. This was a good thing.
"All those. And Wickaninnish, which brought up a beach on Vancouver Island, and an inn... but not a whole lot on witch killers." She clicked a promising link that mentioned wiccans and then trailed off, but once there the black background and blood-dripping letters had her pressing the back button. "What's this guy do anyway? Do we know? Well, do you know, because I know nothing. Out-of-the-loop girl. That's me."
"Pity doesn't suit you well, love," Spike chastised, pointing to another search link. "Try that one." As she clicked on it and waited for it to load, he continued. "It steals their power. Sucks them dry."
"Ew. How?" She had visions of Glory sticking her hands inside her head and slinking around inside. The memory of that feeling alone was enough to make her squirm. It had felt dirty and intrusive. Violating. She hoped the witches being killed weren't suffering something similar. "Glory did this..." she held her hands out in front of her, mimicking Glory's movements, "brain sucking thing. Well, you were there."
The page of promise held nothing more than herbal recipes and spells, a personal Book of Shadows... oh, and it also sold things, like candles and athames. Hey, this could be helpful to her in future. Mmm, scented candles. And incense. Of course, Giles carried that stuff too. Back button again.
"It doesn't work the same way." He sat back a little, giving her some space to breathe and shift maybe if she wanted to.
No, don't shift toward him, you idiot. She rolled her eyes at herself and rolled her shoulders back, masking her movement toward him with trying to relieve her aching back. "What's it do? Details might help. I could search that."
"Your back hurting?" he asked instead of answering her. His eyes found hers, a seductive smile creeping up his lips. "Need some more salve?"
"Uh, no," she denied, wanting nothing more than to jump to her feet and scream for the world to hear just how much she did indeed need more salve. And for that salve to be applied by Spike, and Spike alone. But she didn't and she wouldn't. "Nope. I'm good."
"Really," he said slyly. "Then, why is Dawn standing back there with the jar of salve in her hand, shifting from foot to foot, waiting for the best time to interrupt?"
Willow looked from Spike's smug face to the empty foyer. "Dawn?" she called, not really expecting her to answer, at least not from the foyer. "Whatcha doing?"
Dawn stepped forward, looking a bit sheepish and caught. "Um... Giles mentioned the salve and I figured, Spike should go now so I can do that." She tossed a glare in his direction, raising her chin as she turned her attention back to Willow.
"I'm fine, Dawn, I don't need it. Now." She ducked her head, going back to her search, wishing the two of them would leave her alone about the salve. Yes, she needed some right now and, yes, she wanted it applied. But she didn't want Spike to leave so Dawn could do it. She wanted Dawn to leave so Spike could do it. "Way fine, just... perfect. Thanks, though."
Dawn sighed, acting like a ten-year-old as she shrugged and started out of the room. "Whatever. But when he kills you," she muttered, "I don't wanna hear about it."
Willow burst out laughing, trying to hide it from Dawn, but judging by her stiffening back, she'd heard.
"Hey, Half-pint, toss me that stuff, would ya?" He held his hands out to catch the jar, looking oh-so-innocently in Dawn's direction.
Dawn turned back around, her eyes narrowing on Spike. "Why?" She looked at Willow, and had to catch the widened eyes and blush creeping up Willow's cheeks as she ducked her head even further to her task. "Willow?"
"I'll put it on, pet. You go do your school stuff." He was acting as if nothing had changed between him and Dawn, and that was throwing Dawn's snit off.
She frowned, wanting to agree, but her common sense got the better of her. "No."
Willow sighed in relief. Good, she didn't need to explain to Dawn why he wanted it, though she was a bright girl and there was only one reason for him to want the salve. Unless he was curious about the smell of it, he was so obviously going to try to apply it to Willow's back.
Dawn's attention was still on Willow however. Noting the lack of protests from her and the blush still heating her face, Dawn's eyes widened at Willow and she tossed the jar at Spike, narrowly missing his face. Without a word, she turned on her heel and headed out of the room. There was dead silence, similar to the calm before a storm.
"She's calling Buffy," Willow sighed, glaring at Spike. "What's wrong with you? I don't need, or want you to put that junk on me." She twisted in her seat, moving from side to side, showing him how unhurt she was. "See? All better."
He nodded, watching her move with a critical eye. His hand reached out suddenly and pressed against her shoulder blade, forcing a cry of pain from her. "I can see how better you are." He opened the jar and scooted back, giving her room to lay down. "Look, I'm just trying to help. That's all."
"Right. And I'm Glinda, the good witch." Maybe now was the time to tell him what she suspected. It might make him angry, and anxious to kill her, but he deserved the truth. "I think it's a spell."
He glanced up at her absently before holding the jar to his nose and pulling it away in disgust. Like it was going to smell better suddenly. "What is? The salve? Or your back?"
She lost her nerve. Something inside her was happy about his feelings toward her, whatever they were, and why-ever they were there. She wanted them to continue. Wanted him to want her, because, she really did want him. "The-- um, never mind. I was thinking about... something else." Sighing heavily, knowing she was putting herself into a position of badness, she stretched out on the couch and let him lift her shirt.
The first touch of his fingers as they grazed her back, raised goose bumps on her skin, making her shiver. She held her breath, waiting to feel his hands on her, waiting for that erotic feeling of Spike's hands, covered in something cold and wet sliding along her back, easing her muscles and beginning the process of turning her on to the point of insanity.
Okay, so she'd thought way too much about this. His hands were not erotic, and they didn't make her all hot and bothered with a single touch.
When they finally did touch her, they weren't cold, or covered in salve. He slid them along the middle of her back, caressing and rubbing in all the right spots to make her moan, which she did quietly. After a few seconds of the delicious feeling, she managed to remind him why they were doing this. "Salve," she muttered, swallowing thickly. "It works better if you use it."
"Mm." He didn't so much say it as he voiced it. Just a rumble in his chest. He leaned forward. She felt his shirt brush across her back, and then his lips, though they didn't touch her. He whispered in her ear, his voice husky and filled with the same thing she was filled with. Desire, and lots of it. "What are you doing to me?"
She went still, knowing this was the time to tell him. To be honest. "A spell," she blurted out. "I-- I think it's a spell."
His hands halted on her waist, squeezing her a little too hard. "What?" he forced out between stiff lips. "You did a spell on me? Again?"
Oh, and there was definitely fury there. Definitely some big-time anger. And deservedly so. She turned on her side to look at him, her eyes filled with apology. She opened her mouth to say yes, but then just nodded and dropped her eyes.
"What is it this time?" he ground out, pushing to his feet to stare down at her. He twisted the lid back on the jar with enough force to break it, but didn't. Slamming the jar down on the table, he paced away. "What in bloody hell is the matter with you, Willow? Your magick is a hazard to you and everyone else around you." He paced back, dropping to the couch beside her, taking her face in his hands. "What did you do to me?"
She tried to pull away from his hands, but he held her there, glaring at her, making her feel about two inches tall. "I don't know. Giles said the magick from that night might still be with me, and that's when I noticed this-- this thing for you... but I didn't know. I didn't do, you know, whatever I did, on purpose."
He frowned, loosening his hands on her cheeks, rubbing his thumbs absently against her temples. "The night you killed Glory?"
She nodded, fighting tears, not wanting him to run from her. Not wanting him to go back to wanting Buffy. If he'd ever stopped. Or his girlfriend. Ugh, her life was so messed up.
He laughed deeply, shaking his head at her. "This started before then, love. You didn't do it; at least not with magick." He leaned forward, pressing his lips lightly to hers. "It's real."
She stared back at him in obvious disbelief. He'd had a woman in his crypt the night she killed Glory, that much was painfully obvious to anyone with eyes and ears. "Before then? How-- how long before then? Because, you know, I walked in on you and..."
He sighed, settling more comfortably on the floor, sliding his hands down to her shoulders and then her hands. "That was just a diversion. Didn't work," he said with a dismissive shrug. "I'm not sure when I started falling for you. But the night I ran into you at the Magic Box? I--"
"Wait a second," Willow cut him off abruptly. "What do you do mean 'just a diversion'?" She tried to pull her hands out of his, but he resisted. "You trying out for the Don Juan of the year award?" she asked, only half-joking. "And what about Buffy? I thought you loved her."
Spike looked up, embarrassed and angry. "Since that spell you cast, where we were engaged..." he glanced away for a split-second, his face distracted, "I've been drawn to her, obsessed even. It was so intense, I didn't know what to call it other than love. But it was never the same as what I felt for Dru. Or for you."
Willow's face was still tight, but her heart was no longer racing and she was no longer trying to move away. He continued doggedly even as Willow kept her face turned away.
"There hadn't been anyone since Harm. Buffy wouldn't give me the time of day and you were with Tara." Spike's voice trailed off for a moment as he shrugged uncomfortably. "I needed someone for a while, you know?"
Something melted in Willow when she heard that stark declaration. That kind of loneliness was something she could relate to. Big time. And at least she knew his feelings for her were there before the magick mess-up. And before her spell to talk to Diana as well. That was all good news. Wonderful news. But then she frowned suddenly, remembering something else. "You did sniff me!"
He shrugged one shoulder, looking anything but apologetic. "Can't help it." Dropping her hands, he stood up, resuming his seat beside her. Her shirt was lifted again, his hand landing on her shoulder to press her down softly. "You should bottle that scent." He leaned forward, inhaling deeply, dropping a kiss on her shoulder, then her neck. Lower, to the middle of her back.
She squirmed, feeling so naughty for allowing Spike to touch her and kiss her, to caress her and smell her. And last night, she'd felt parts of him that she'd almost gotten a glimpse of that night in his crypt. Felt his erection; cradled it between her legs, rocked against it very briefly, just for a moment before coming to her senses.
"Spike," she whispered, closing her eyes and resting her head on her hands, "as good as that feels, and, boy does that feel good, I don't think you should... we shouldn't. At all. Ever." She wanted to whine and pout and cry. Doing the right thing was always hard, no matter what anyone said.
"Why not, love?" He was whispering in her ear again, not playing fair at all. "We're adults, we can make our own decisions." His hands tightened on her waist again, rubbing harder. "Don't let Buffy make this one for you."
Buffy. That was very possibly the last thing he should've said. She tried to sit up, but he held her still, grabbing the jar and making a show of opening it and scooping some out. "You still have feelings for her," she protested. "And I love Tara."
"Let's not," he said darkly, slathering a healthy amount of the salve onto her back. He slowly and gently rubbed it in, but there was no sensuousness to it this time. "Let's not bring them into this, okay?"
All business-like, he finished rubbing the ointment in and capped it, wiping his hands on his jeans. Setting the jar down on the table, he turned to her with a baleful look.
"Why do you do that? Think everything through until there's nothing left but the facts, minus feelings, minus intuition, minus everything. And then you reason it through some more and come out with the only logical answer for yourself: That it's wrong."
Willow sat up, pulling her shirt down. It stuck in a few places and she couldn't reach back far enough to unstick it. Spike sighed, reaching behind her to loosen it. "I don't do that. I've-- I've done a lot of wrong things. A lot. I mean, hello, spells? You just got through yelling at me about them." She took a quick drink of her soda and stood up. "See? Stupid idea, leading to nothing but-- mm." The moan wasn't a part of her angry rant, but it more than expressed how Spike's lips on hers felt.
His mouth opened on hers, his hands gripping her arms and pulling her toward him. One of his hands slid down her back, very lightly, and landed on her butt, pressing her even closer to him, letting her feel the reaction she'd had on him.
She hoped it was from her.
"That," he said, pulling away to kiss her jaw, "is in no way a bad thing, Willow." He kissed her again, more deeply this time, before sliding his tongue along her lower lip. "I want you--the real you--and I'll do just about anything to have you."
Willow's mind was stuck back on the wanting part. Spike wanted her. That much was very obvious, the results of that want were currently pressing into her abdomen. It felt good, so very good. She missed being wanted. Tara had wanted her until the end, as she'd wanted Tara, but it was different. And then the killing of Glory, and the isolation from her friends, and being cooped up in the house.
She was needy, and she admitted it. Needed a whole lot of contact to feel alive. To feel worthy.
And she wanted. Wanted someone to touch her. A touch that made her feel beautiful and loved.
She kissed him back, sliding her arms around his waist, to keep him there, to let him know she didn't want him to leave. Even if she said she did. Pulling back for air, she rested her head against his shoulder, staring at the white expanse of flesh visible above the collar. It looked so soft. Touchable. She glanced up at him, then back at his neck.
Sliding her hand along his shoulder, she explored his skin, touching him just where she wanted to, how she wanted to. She leaned forward, pressing a kiss on his neck, which he seemed to like, since he sighed, then she moved lower, pulling the shirt down so she could reach more of him. She kissed his shoulder, then his chest, the small bit she could see, and lowered the shirt further.
He dipped his head to capture her mouth, kissing her so hard she had to fight to keep her balance. His hands went around her again, resting on her butt to hold her still. His mouth moved over hers, demanding in its urgency. Her hands slid further into his shirt, the fingers of her right hand brushing over something strange.
She moved away, not allowing him to recapture her mouth, much as she wanted to. Frowning, she pulled his shirt away from his shoulder and looked down at it. "What is... that?" she asked, trailing away when she saw the bite mark.
"Got bit last night," he said, looking down at the bite. "Hurt like a bugger too." His hands brought her closer, his eyes caressing her face with the promise of sensual things to come.
Her mind was doing that thing he'd only just accused her of doing. Working overtime. The bite wasn't from a vampire, it looked human. How had a human bitten him? Why had a human bitten him?
"What happened?" She looked up at him, waiting for an answer.
He smiled and kissed her lightly. "Lairman demon. It wanted my crypt; I didn't wanna give it up." He shrugged, looking unconcerned. "It's not that bad a bite."
"Okay." She believed him. Why would he lie? Unless he'd gotten the chip out or it was malfunctioning... which was a possibility. But he wasn't acting weird or cagey, so she decided to believe him. "Did you clean it? What if the demon has rabies or something demon-y?"
"It's fine," he said, dismissing her concern with a wink. "However, other parts of me are not so fortunate." He shook his head sadly, the mock regret in his voice making her crack a smile.
"Oh, really. And, uh, where would these other parts be?" She held a hand to his forehead. "Here?"
"Lower. Much lower," he whispered, taking her hand from his forehead and guiding it to his thigh. "Now you're getting warm."
"So are you," she noted, nodding wisely as she slid her hand around to cup his butt. "This it?" Her laugh was smothered by his mouth, cutting off her taunt about-- what was it again? Who cared? Her arms went around him in surrender, her mouth moving against his with abandon. His hands cupped her butt, lifting her against him, letting her feel every inch of his lean, muscular body.
He tore his mouth from hers, trailing frantic kisses along her jaw and neck, settling on the pulse point there. He paused for a brief moment, then nibbled her ear, licking the flesh below it. "How do manage to smell different every time I see you?"
She shrugged, dropping her head to the side with a gasp. Desire curled up in her belly, sending shocks of want and need through her. "I don't know," she admitted, having no idea what he smelled coming from her. "I don't wear perfume-- oh, that tickles," she giggled, standing on her tiptoes to give him better access.
"Apples and cinnamon that night in the magic shop." He ran his tongue along her jaw, grinding against her a little. "Vanilla last night." One hand slipped under her shirt, the cool skin of his palm, rough and callused, touching her stomach and breasts, pushing her bra out of his way. "Tonight," he breathed, drawing in a sudden, sharp breath, "tonight you smell like cherries." He went still, holding her tightly to him, opening his eyes as he raised his head to look over her shoulder. "We have company."
It took a minute for his words to sink in. As he pulled away, he dropped his hands to his sides, then lifted one, rubbing a hand across his forehead and she finally understood what he'd said. She stood still, afraid to turn and look to see who it was. She cradled her head in her hands, horrified by being caught kissing and groping Spike.
"Oh God," she whispered, her face flaming as bright as her hair. She licked her lips, taking in a few deep breaths before turning to face the accusatory look of-- "Dawnie."
Dawn's face showed nothing more than shock and disbelief. "Willow?" she said in confusion, her frown widening as she took in every detail of their disheveled and flushed faces. "I-- I--" she shook her head, unable to absorb what was obviously happening. "Oh, wow." Her eyes widened, her breath leaving her in a sharp exhalation. "But." She looked toward the door. "What about Buffy?" she practically yelled.
Spike sighed impatiently. "What about her?" Dropping to the couch, he kicked at the coffee table, almost petulantly. "She wants nothing to do with me. And I don't think I want anything to do with her either." His eyes lifted to Willow's. "Not anymore."
Willow was relieved; that certainly helped her deal with it all. And how. "Dawn, I didn't... well, we weren't..." very believable, Willow, very much not a lie. "Buffy doesn't want--"
Dawn sighed heavily, gesturing toward the door. "I mean, what about what she's going to do when she comes in here and finds the two of you practically-- well, you know what-ing, here in her living room?" She moved past them to kneel on the couch and look out the window, moving the curtain aside. "She's on her way home."
"What?" Willow gasped, darting a look around the living room as if Buffy had just magickally popped in. "When? No, wait, it doesn't matter." She turned to the man she wanted to take upstairs, even now. "You need to go. She'll-- well, I don't know what she'll do, but it can't be good."
"Yeah, and?" He stood up, gesturing to Dawn to leave them alone. For once, Dawn didn't argue or complain; she went silently, keeping watch at the front door. "I told you earlier, you're an adult. Time to make your own decisions, Willow."
"But, I can't," she told him, shaking her head frantically. "I'm not ready to do that yet. Not now, not while I'm still hurt and unable to fight back with--"
He burst out laughing, rubbing her arms with his hands. "You don't think she's going to hurt you, do you?" He shook his head with another laugh, kissing her forehead. "You're so damn..." he trailed off, sighing as he shook his head, at a loss, "amusing." His chuckles deepened, following her as she paced away.
She tossed him a scoffing look. "I meant verbally. You know there's going to be huge fighting. And I'm not feeling a hundred percent." Stopping in front of him again, she dropped her head back and sighed. "Buffy will not be okay with this. Ever." She stared at him, looking at his beautiful face, so full of... desire. That's all there was, and a little amusement. Possibly some disappointment that she didn't want to tell Buffy about them.
"All right," he agreed, nodding once as he grabbed his duster from the chair. "We stay silent until you're ready to ask your friends for permission to see someone you want to see."
His scornful eyes and clenched jaw almost changed her mind, but she stuck to her guns. She moved forward, resting her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, I-- I just can't yet."
"Okay, well, when you grow a backbone, let me know. If I'm still interested..." he shrugged, turning on his heel and heading into the foyer.
"Hey," she called angrily, "you're giving me orders here?" She followed after him, moving better since the salve went to work on her a few minutes ago. "I have backbone, mister. I'm just not as fickle as you are."
Ignoring Dawn's rapt attention on them, Spike strode toward the door, yanking it open and standing in the entrance. He turned back around to face Willow, his voice low and even. "There's only one woman in my life now and that's you."
Willow's anger left her in a flood of regret, leaving her feeling drained. "Spike, I'm sorry--"
"Save it. But you better make up your mind soon, because I won't wait around forever." He stepped outside and closed the door behind him, leaving a pregnant silence in his wake.
"Are you okay?" Dawn asked quietly. "I mean, I don't get it. Don't even pretend to understand what's going on here, but... are you all right?"
Willow nodded, turning away before the tears could fall. In the forefront of her mind was a nagging question: Since when was Spike someone she cried over? Heading back into the front room, she sat on the couch, staring at the wall in front of her.
Dawn came in a few seconds later and sat beside her. "I'm sorry."
Willow smiled sadly. "It doesn't matter. It probably wouldn't have worked anyway."