A/N: Voila! Another chapter for you.
Willow was worried. Anyone who knew her would be able to see this from a mile off. She had the crinkled forehead, the dipped eyebrows, and the intense stare – the whole shebang. Willow was sitting in the living room of Giles' house staring at a dead body. The corpse of the water-feral demon. Giles and Xander had recovered it from the lake as they thought its body might secrete anti-venom. Well, actually, Giles had thought that...Xander had just grumbled about having to go to work smelling all fishy.
If the corpse did have some kind of natural counter-venom stuff then Willow hadn't found it. However she wasn't on best form. Spike attacking her a few hours ago had really shaken her up. Just when they were all starting to think a little better of him. Willow knew it wasn't his fault, it was the poison in him and that he couldn't really be held accountable. Her brain told her this but her emotions told her that Spike was still a vampire and still capable of hurting people.
It made her nervous for Buffy. Her friend was over in the cottage with Spike not in his most friendly persona and she could be getting attacked right now. Willow knew Buffy could take care herself but she was still slightly wigged.
Focus Rosenberg She told herself as she looked down at the body. The demon was strange that was for sure. Its body shape was essentially human – two arms, two legs, a torso, a head etc. It even had long, white colored hair that dusted its lower back. The differences were that the body was blue. A light, sky blue that would have been almost pretty under other circumstances. The skin also had a slightly oil consistency to it, she assumed so that it was more streamlined in the water. It had gill slits either side of its neck and it's sides. The only other really fish type thing about it was the webbing between it's fingers and toes. The demon had blue eyes. Completely blue with no whites – it was a dark blue that contrasted with its light blue skin. There were no scales, no fins. Willow was kind of disappointed by that. Until she remembered Spike was changing into one of them.
The witch picked up the right arm of the prone demon and turned it over so that she could too the underside of it. There at the base of the hand, in the wrist, was a small hole. This was where the quill had come from that had struck Spike. If the cure was in the dead body it would be somewhere here. Willow bit her lip and picked up a handy scalpel. Good thing Giles collected medical instruments...she didn't want to think too much about that.
She cut into the wrist vertically all the way down to the crook of the elbow. Dark blue blood seeped to the surface but did not pump out due to the lack of circulation. Willow set the scalpel down on the table and then she pulled on some rubber gloves, also courtesy of Giles' weird habits, and used a pair of tongs to separate the skin. It was kind of like a heart bypass operation...only on the wrist...and on a demon.
Willow frowned at the inner workings of the demon's arm. There were three quills stored in this arm one after the other. Willow picked up the scalpel again and gently prodded the front spine. She jumped and yelped as it shot out of the arm and into the cushion next to her on the chair. Willow's eyes widened and she put the demon's arm down carefully. The demon was laying on the coffee table so its arm flopped over the side very ungraciously.
She picked up her tongs again and pulled the quill from the cushion. It dripped black poison on the rug. Giles would kill her. Willow pushed that to the back of her mind as she picked up a small bottle and let all of the poison in the quill drop down into it. When she was sure she had gotten every last drop Willow disposed of the quill and capped the bottle with the poison on it.
The redhead looked at the bottle of murky liquid and the frowned and asked aloud suddenly "Since when did I get stuck with the gross jobs?"
Of course no one answered because no one was around. Willow sighed and walked into the kitchen peeling off the rubber gloves and throwing them in the bin. She washed her hands and made her herself a cup of tea. Looking out of the back window she could see Buffy's cottage. The curtains of the bedroom were closed.
Willow thought about the whole Spike and Buffy situation. They had a history to rival a lot of couples that was for sure. There had been the mortal enemy years, then the bickering years, the grudging ally year, the secret sex year and then...the last year in Sunnydale. The year when everyone noticed how close those two got even if they didn't themselves.
The witch would often wander around the house and pick up on stray whispered conversations from the Potentials. They were curious about their leader's 'thing' with the vampire. Willow smiled. The Potentials weren't the only ones who were curious. She and Xander had discussed it a few times. Xander usually disapproving but gradually he softened to the idea of the two of them.
Willow had never really talked to Buffy about Spike. No one had, really. It was strange because the two girls used to share everything. The latest development with Angel, the newest sweet thing that Riley had said, the poopheadiness of Parker...but no Spike talk. Unless it was of how much of a pig he was.
Willow supposed that Buffy wanted Spike for herself. Just like Willow had once wanted Tara to herself. She had told Tara she wanted something that was hers. That must have been what was between Buffy and Spike.
During the last year in Sunnydale when emotions ran high and sometimes they all forgot whom their loyalties should belong to, Spike had been Buffy's one constant. It made the witch ashamed to realize that. When everyone else had bailed on the Slayer, he had stayed true.
He was hers.
It soon became an unspoken thing between the once enemies, Willow realized. Wherever Buffy went Spike was close behind. When she was giving another inspirational speech he was at her side, nodding and at least looking like he was listening intently. Spike's love for Buffy was the means that had resulted in his saving the world.
It had taken this remembrance of times past for Willow Rosenberg to figure something out.
It just hit her.
Spike was Buffy's long-haul guy.
Looking up at the window of the cottage where they both slept she wondered if Buffy had worked this out herself yet. Knowing Buffy – nice girl but not so bright – she had yet to fathom it.
Willow finished her tea, knew it was time to get back to work. She picked up the vial of poison and knew it was time for a lot of book reading.
As she was walking back to the living room she spared a glance over her shoulder at the cottage.
The Slayer and her right-hand man.
Willow grinned and shook her head, both fools for love.
A/N: As usual this is the time I beg for more reviews and nothing has changed. More reviews please. I'm kind of a glutton for praise.