Disclaimer: See chapter 1.
PART 5
Willow snuck a peek around the corner, making sure Spike was still there. He was a half a block away, leaning against a brick-faced building, smoking a cigarette. His attention was focused on a woman across the street that Willow was pretty sure was Darla. Small, blonde, beautiful... kind of Buffy-esque actually. Willow had only seen her once, and she'd been a little distracted with finding out vampires were real and trying not to become one.
Darla strolled down the street with a confidence few human women possessed during this time period, her skirts swishing from side to side. Willow found herself envying the diminutive vampire.
A scraping noise from Spike's direction grabbed her attention, and she carefully poked her head around the corner again. Panic flared when she didn't see him. A second later, she saw a flash of black disappear down the alley across the street where Darla had gone. Willow counted to twenty, then followed. She darted across the street, and ducked into the alley, feeling like Sherlock Holmes. She flattened herself against the brick wall-- a lumpy brick wall that was moving!
She shoved herself away from the wall, and screamed. A hand snaked around her mouth, cutting off her scream, and another one encircled her waist, hauling her back against a hard male chest. She struggled against her captor with a vengeance, kicking and hitting whatever she could reach, which wasn't much. Her screams for Spike were muffled, but desperate. If she could be heard through sheer determination, she would be, unfortunately, she couldn't. The hand around her waist jerked her backwards, a warning for silence.
She went limp, hoping her captor would be surprised and let her go long enough for her to get away. He wasn't surprised. His hold only tightened, so she bit his hand. There was a muffled curse from the man holding her, but she barely heard it. She screamed for Spike as loud as she could, hoping he was still close enough to hear her. A hand slapped against her mouth again, and Willow renewed her struggles. Her scream was still echoing down the dark alley when a voice spoke near her ear.
"Hush now, lass, I'll not hurt you."
Willow went absolutely still. The voice was familiar, and the hold he had on her brought back memories of a time when he'd held her captive in a similar fashion. Angelus. Oh, God. What did he want with her? Had he already been turned? No, he was human. His hand and breath were warm, his heart was beating against her back.
"You'll keep quiet if I remove my hand?" Willow nodded emphatically, and he moved his hand down to her waist.
"What-- what do you want?" Willow asked him, trying to remember everything she knew about the human Angel. He'd been a philanderer, a libertine... often drinking away his nights, and sleeping away his days. She sincerely hoped they hadn't forgotten more important things, like being a killer. Or rapist. Or both. A shudder escaped her, and her mouth went dry.
Liam whispered in her ear again, and this time she could smell alcohol. "That man you're shackin' up with, he's your husband?"
Willow nodded again. "Yes, he is. My husband, yes."
There was a tsk-ing sound behind her. "Pity, that." She was let go and swung around quickly. Her back hit the wall and her teeth clacked together painfully. Liam stood in front of her, shaking his head regretfully. "He's a right bastard, that one, and a womanizer to boot." He watched her closely, but Willow wasn't sure what he was looking for. "He finds himself a new woman nightly. Takes them to dark alleys such as this one, and has his wicked way with them."
Willow remained silent, knowing Liam was trying to get a rise out of her for some reason. She held her disgust in check, knowing Spike was feeding off of the women Liam thought he was sleeping with. He very well might be sleeping with them for all she knew, but she didn't care about that. He wasn't really her husband, and she had no feelings for him, so he could sleep with any woman he wanted to. Or man if he cared to. It had nothing to do with her.
"I don't know what you mean, sir." Play the innocent, and maybe he'd let her go. Why did he care what Spike did? Was he afraid of Spike taking away his women? His Don Juan reputation? She held back a giggle.
Liam shook his head. "You do know. That's why you're out here, following him. Do you not trust your husband, Red?"
"Don't call me that." Red was one of Spike's nicknames for her, and it just sounded wrong coming from someone else. She sighed, and stared up at Angel; her friend, Buffy's love... but all she could see was Angelus.
He raised his hand to her cheek, and ran his finger along her jaw. "Maybe we should give him something to be jealous about--"
Willow batted his hand from her face and shoved away from the wall, turning back to face him. "I don't think so, Angel. No way, absolutely not."
Liam's eyes narrowed, and his lips turned down in a frown. "The name is Liam."
"I'm sorry, I-- you look like someone I know back home, in America-- I mean the New World. His name is Angel, I got confused. Sorry," she trailed off miserably. Giles' voice was chastising her in her mind. He would probably have a fit if he knew she was changing history. But he'd never know. Would he?
"Angel," a new voice said softly, "the face of an Angel, the mind and body of a killer. I like it."
Willow moved closer to Angel, feeling safer with him than with his soon to be sire. She looked around quickly, wondering where Spike was, and if she could run without being seen. Fat chance. She stood as far behind Angel as she could, and watched Darla size him up.
A lazy smile turned up the corners of Darla's mouth as she strolled closer, her beautiful gown swishing around her ankles. Willow felt like an alley cat standing before a regal lioness.
"I was on my way out of this dreadfully boring town when I ran into a fellow creature of the night," Darla told them conversationally, her small, girlish voice echoing through the alley. "He asked me if I wanted a companion... someone to while away the long hours with. He offered me you," she told Angel, stopping directly in front of him.
Angel, having been too busy staring at Darla's breasts which were near popping out of her bodice, finally understood her. "Creature of the night?"
Willow rolled her eyes. What was with the melodrama? Shrugging, she watched as Liam trailed his eyes over Darla, Willow completely forgotten behind him.
"Which was a good thing," Darla continued, ignoring Angel's question. "I'd have killed him before spending any time with him." She shivered delicately. "He didn't appeal to me at all, this William."
Willow's eyebrows rose sky high. William? Spike? Spike didn't appeal to Darla? Hello! Was the woman blind? Oh, and please, like Darla could actually take out Spike. Uh-huh. And then Darla's words sunk in. Spike offered Liam up to Darla... why? Why not let things progress normally? She would have to have a long talk with Spike about the consequences of changing the future.
Just as soon as she lectured herself on those same points.
"It's been too long since I've had a companion," Darla was saying. "I'm lonely."
"In that case," Liam drawled, "I'd offer myself as escort to protect you from harm and to while away the dull hours."
"You're very gracious," Darla told him, as if she hadn't already made her decision. As if Liam had a say in it.
"Hmm. It's often been said," Liam agreed.
Willow took a few steps back while they were occupied with each other, hoping to escape unnoticed.
"Are you certain you're up to the challenge?" Darla asked coyly.
Liam was so taken by this point, that he wouldn't have been able to say no if he wanted to. "M'lady, you'll find that... with the exception of an honest day's work, there's no challenge I'm not prepared to face."
Willow pressed her back against the wall, and took a few more steps away from the couple in the middle of the dark alley. She looked up quickly when Liam fell silent, sure she'd been spotted. Nope, he was just looking into Darla's eyes, trying to seduce the seducer. Willow felt like she should care more that a human was about to die, but knowing everything that would happen down the line, she knew it had to happen.
"Oh... but you're a pretty thing. Where are you from?"
Darla smiled at him, and Willow thought it a rather predatory smile, though it was meant to be teasing. "Around. Everywhere."
"I've never been anywhere myself. Always wanted to see the world, but..."
"I could show you," Darla offered eagerly.
"Could you, then?" Liam smiled at Darla, obviously thinking he was the one leading her on, not having a clue that he was being led to the slaughter.
"Things you've never seen, never even heard of."
There's that melodrama again, Willow thought, tossing a quick look over her shoulder. She was almost free. Just a few more feet to the entrance of the alley.
"Sounds exciting."
"It is," she agreed. "And frightening."
"I'm not afraid," Liam said, and Willow knew he wasn't. "Show me. Show me your world."
Darla closed her eyes, and bid him to do the same.
Willow slipped out of sight of the couple and turned to run... straight into a male body... again. Damn it! She was about to push herself away when she was jerked roughly around.
"Hold still, Willow."
It was Spike. Oh, joy! He dragged her back to the alley entrance and grabbed her jaw, forcing her to watch Liam and Darla.
She'd never seen a vampire being made, and she had to admit to a certain curiosity, but she would rather have the choice. She opened her mouth to tell him off, when his hand tightened on her jaw.
"Watch," he ground out.
Darla put her hand on Liam's shoulder, letting her face turn. She smiled and growled, opening her mouth wide as she leaned down to bite him. Liam stiffened, gasping. From pain or blood loss, Willow wasn't sure, but when he sank to his knees, Darla followed him down, then let go. She stood up straight, lifting her hand to her chest, and drew a fingernail across the flesh. Blood trickled out. She grabbed Liam by the back of the neck and pulled him in to the cut, forcing him to drink her blood. He wrapped his arms around her and drank.
Willow, considerably paler and more nauseous than she'd been before, shoved against Spike's hold. He let her go and she ran back to their room.
Spike tiredly rubbed his face as he watched Willow disappear into the inn. What had the bint been doing out here in the first place? Humans were just as dangerous in this time as vampires were. Had she lied when she told him she'd never been attracted to Angel? Had she wanted to see him so badly that she'd disregarded her own safety just to get a gander?
No, that didn't make sense. When they'd seen Liam passed out in the alley, she hadn't seemed too attached, or curious. Still, she wouldn't be the first one. Most women seemed to fall for the wanker. Didn't matter, Willow would not be one of them. She could damn well keep her affections to herself. He left the alley behind without a backward glance.
Inside the inn, he went straight to the bar, ordering a pint of ale. While he waited for the barkeep to fill his mug, he took a look around. A familiar redhead at a corner table caught his eye and he cursed. Willow. Was she getting drunk? Admittedly, seeing a human die by the hand of a vampire and then be forced to become the very thing that had killed them wasn't a nice experience. But... oh, well, she'd get over it.
He grabbed his ale and joined her in the corner. "What's a nice witch like you doing in a time period like this?" he asked with a few sleazy looks at her cleavage, which was rather... ample, of late.
She turned angry eyes his way. "You're a bastard."
Spike sat in the chair opposite her, leaning his elbows on the table. "Yeah, and don't you forget it." He took a long drink, used to the bitter taste after a few days here. "Why were you out there? You could've been killed."
"I didn't know you cared," she sneered.
He slammed his mug down on the table. "I don't. You're my way home, unless I fancy living out the next two hundred and fifty years. Which I don't, 'cause mostly? Been there, done that."
"Poor thing," she bit out, "would you be inconvenienced? Try getting kidnapped, and being forced to participate in a spell that takes you away from everyone and everything you know."
"You'd better keep out of harms way," he said warningly.
She rolled her eyes and snorted, downing the last of her ale. "You just told me to keep myself safe, or else. Or else what, Spike? You'll *kill* me?"
Spike calmly drank the rest of his ale, then stood up, grabbing her hand as he passed her. She yelped and tried to pull her hand free, but he didn't let go. He pulled her upstairs, ignoring the barkeep's smirk. He quickly unlocked the door to their room, and shoved her inside. She fell to the floor, landing on her butt, and sat there glaring at him.
"Bastard," she hissed, climbing unsteadily to her feet.
"You're getting repetitive, Red." He stalked over to her, and yanked her up. "You want to know how I intend to punish you?"
He spun her around, so her back was to him, and lifted her hair off of her neck. He vamped out and sank his teeth into her neck. She screamed, struggling against him. Spike paid her no heed as he drank the heady mixture of blood and magick. Soon, her screams turned to whimpers, then to silence. Fearing he'd taken too much, he pulled away from her, and was quite surprised when she didn't fall bonelessly to the scarred wooden floor. Instead, she stood absolutely still.
Spike wiped his mouth on his hand before turning her around to face him. Her eyes were closed, hands fisted at her sides, anger radiating off of her. Spike almost took a step back.
"Get out."
He snorted at her. "Not likely."
She turned around without a word, opened one of the drawers in the dresser and pulled out a stake. Holding it high, she stalked back over to him. "Get--"
Spike reached out and grabbed the stake from her, tossing it out the window. "What the hell were you doing with that? Planning on killing me, Red? And why on earth didn't you take it with you earlier? Bloody hell, you're supposed to be the smart one, but so far, all I've seen is your stupidity."
All the anger seemed to leave her as she sat on the bed, shoulders slumped. "I was following you. Curiosity is a human trait too, you know. I figured I'd be safe if I stayed by you, then you disappeared down that alley, and Angel grabbed me, and I couldn't scream because he covered my mouth with his hand, and--"
"What?" Spike ground out. "Did he hurt you?" Hell, he'd been going on the assumption of her accosting Angel, not the other way around. If Angel had hurt her...
"No. Just brought back a few bad memories. And tattled on you."
"About what?" What could Liam possibly have on him that would interest Willow?
"Your nightly feeding, though he thought they were trysts, and since he thinks we're married, he thought it his duty to tell me that you're a womanizer." She laughed slightly, the sound almost hysterical. "Little did he know you were killing them, not... other things."
"I haven't killed anyone. Not since our first night here."
She tossed him an incredulous look. "Yeah, right."
"Drawing undue attention in a small town in Ireland and causing a mob to lynch me is not something I look forward to. I can be discreet when I want to." He took off his duster, and tossed it on the back of the chair before sitting down to remove his boots. "Bastard taught me that, if nothin' else."
"Well... good," she said, obviously at a loss, then switched subjects. "Why did you make me watch?"
Spike shrugged. "For fun?" She didn't need to know the real reason. He'd been showing her what might've happened to her if he hadn't found her there. But that might imply that he cared.
She reached up to touch the already healing bite mark on her neck. "Fair warning. I intend to drink at least one glass of holy water a day from now on, at different times. Bite at your own risk." She stood up and grabbed his black T-Shirt out of the dresser, and glared at him. Spike sighed and turned around, removing most of his own clothes before climbing into bed.
Time for another night of Willow wrapped around him while she slept. Another night of being so close to her magick filled blood, blood he'd just reacquainted himself with, and not being able to touch it. Or her. Not that he wanted to touch her. Not that he didn't want to touch her. But--
Willow cleared her throat, thankfully interrupting his thoughts. Her bare legs, as always, looked so enticing. He often found himself tangling his own legs with hers while she slept. She never knew. She woke up every day completely unaware of some of the positions she placed herself in during the night. Spike, on the other hand, was uncomfortably aware of all of them. And right now, after having tasted her again, he found other parts of him wanting her.
Gotta be the ale, he thought, rolling away from her.
PART 5
Willow snuck a peek around the corner, making sure Spike was still there. He was a half a block away, leaning against a brick-faced building, smoking a cigarette. His attention was focused on a woman across the street that Willow was pretty sure was Darla. Small, blonde, beautiful... kind of Buffy-esque actually. Willow had only seen her once, and she'd been a little distracted with finding out vampires were real and trying not to become one.
Darla strolled down the street with a confidence few human women possessed during this time period, her skirts swishing from side to side. Willow found herself envying the diminutive vampire.
A scraping noise from Spike's direction grabbed her attention, and she carefully poked her head around the corner again. Panic flared when she didn't see him. A second later, she saw a flash of black disappear down the alley across the street where Darla had gone. Willow counted to twenty, then followed. She darted across the street, and ducked into the alley, feeling like Sherlock Holmes. She flattened herself against the brick wall-- a lumpy brick wall that was moving!
She shoved herself away from the wall, and screamed. A hand snaked around her mouth, cutting off her scream, and another one encircled her waist, hauling her back against a hard male chest. She struggled against her captor with a vengeance, kicking and hitting whatever she could reach, which wasn't much. Her screams for Spike were muffled, but desperate. If she could be heard through sheer determination, she would be, unfortunately, she couldn't. The hand around her waist jerked her backwards, a warning for silence.
She went limp, hoping her captor would be surprised and let her go long enough for her to get away. He wasn't surprised. His hold only tightened, so she bit his hand. There was a muffled curse from the man holding her, but she barely heard it. She screamed for Spike as loud as she could, hoping he was still close enough to hear her. A hand slapped against her mouth again, and Willow renewed her struggles. Her scream was still echoing down the dark alley when a voice spoke near her ear.
"Hush now, lass, I'll not hurt you."
Willow went absolutely still. The voice was familiar, and the hold he had on her brought back memories of a time when he'd held her captive in a similar fashion. Angelus. Oh, God. What did he want with her? Had he already been turned? No, he was human. His hand and breath were warm, his heart was beating against her back.
"You'll keep quiet if I remove my hand?" Willow nodded emphatically, and he moved his hand down to her waist.
"What-- what do you want?" Willow asked him, trying to remember everything she knew about the human Angel. He'd been a philanderer, a libertine... often drinking away his nights, and sleeping away his days. She sincerely hoped they hadn't forgotten more important things, like being a killer. Or rapist. Or both. A shudder escaped her, and her mouth went dry.
Liam whispered in her ear again, and this time she could smell alcohol. "That man you're shackin' up with, he's your husband?"
Willow nodded again. "Yes, he is. My husband, yes."
There was a tsk-ing sound behind her. "Pity, that." She was let go and swung around quickly. Her back hit the wall and her teeth clacked together painfully. Liam stood in front of her, shaking his head regretfully. "He's a right bastard, that one, and a womanizer to boot." He watched her closely, but Willow wasn't sure what he was looking for. "He finds himself a new woman nightly. Takes them to dark alleys such as this one, and has his wicked way with them."
Willow remained silent, knowing Liam was trying to get a rise out of her for some reason. She held her disgust in check, knowing Spike was feeding off of the women Liam thought he was sleeping with. He very well might be sleeping with them for all she knew, but she didn't care about that. He wasn't really her husband, and she had no feelings for him, so he could sleep with any woman he wanted to. Or man if he cared to. It had nothing to do with her.
"I don't know what you mean, sir." Play the innocent, and maybe he'd let her go. Why did he care what Spike did? Was he afraid of Spike taking away his women? His Don Juan reputation? She held back a giggle.
Liam shook his head. "You do know. That's why you're out here, following him. Do you not trust your husband, Red?"
"Don't call me that." Red was one of Spike's nicknames for her, and it just sounded wrong coming from someone else. She sighed, and stared up at Angel; her friend, Buffy's love... but all she could see was Angelus.
He raised his hand to her cheek, and ran his finger along her jaw. "Maybe we should give him something to be jealous about--"
Willow batted his hand from her face and shoved away from the wall, turning back to face him. "I don't think so, Angel. No way, absolutely not."
Liam's eyes narrowed, and his lips turned down in a frown. "The name is Liam."
"I'm sorry, I-- you look like someone I know back home, in America-- I mean the New World. His name is Angel, I got confused. Sorry," she trailed off miserably. Giles' voice was chastising her in her mind. He would probably have a fit if he knew she was changing history. But he'd never know. Would he?
"Angel," a new voice said softly, "the face of an Angel, the mind and body of a killer. I like it."
Willow moved closer to Angel, feeling safer with him than with his soon to be sire. She looked around quickly, wondering where Spike was, and if she could run without being seen. Fat chance. She stood as far behind Angel as she could, and watched Darla size him up.
A lazy smile turned up the corners of Darla's mouth as she strolled closer, her beautiful gown swishing around her ankles. Willow felt like an alley cat standing before a regal lioness.
"I was on my way out of this dreadfully boring town when I ran into a fellow creature of the night," Darla told them conversationally, her small, girlish voice echoing through the alley. "He asked me if I wanted a companion... someone to while away the long hours with. He offered me you," she told Angel, stopping directly in front of him.
Angel, having been too busy staring at Darla's breasts which were near popping out of her bodice, finally understood her. "Creature of the night?"
Willow rolled her eyes. What was with the melodrama? Shrugging, she watched as Liam trailed his eyes over Darla, Willow completely forgotten behind him.
"Which was a good thing," Darla continued, ignoring Angel's question. "I'd have killed him before spending any time with him." She shivered delicately. "He didn't appeal to me at all, this William."
Willow's eyebrows rose sky high. William? Spike? Spike didn't appeal to Darla? Hello! Was the woman blind? Oh, and please, like Darla could actually take out Spike. Uh-huh. And then Darla's words sunk in. Spike offered Liam up to Darla... why? Why not let things progress normally? She would have to have a long talk with Spike about the consequences of changing the future.
Just as soon as she lectured herself on those same points.
"It's been too long since I've had a companion," Darla was saying. "I'm lonely."
"In that case," Liam drawled, "I'd offer myself as escort to protect you from harm and to while away the dull hours."
"You're very gracious," Darla told him, as if she hadn't already made her decision. As if Liam had a say in it.
"Hmm. It's often been said," Liam agreed.
Willow took a few steps back while they were occupied with each other, hoping to escape unnoticed.
"Are you certain you're up to the challenge?" Darla asked coyly.
Liam was so taken by this point, that he wouldn't have been able to say no if he wanted to. "M'lady, you'll find that... with the exception of an honest day's work, there's no challenge I'm not prepared to face."
Willow pressed her back against the wall, and took a few more steps away from the couple in the middle of the dark alley. She looked up quickly when Liam fell silent, sure she'd been spotted. Nope, he was just looking into Darla's eyes, trying to seduce the seducer. Willow felt like she should care more that a human was about to die, but knowing everything that would happen down the line, she knew it had to happen.
"Oh... but you're a pretty thing. Where are you from?"
Darla smiled at him, and Willow thought it a rather predatory smile, though it was meant to be teasing. "Around. Everywhere."
"I've never been anywhere myself. Always wanted to see the world, but..."
"I could show you," Darla offered eagerly.
"Could you, then?" Liam smiled at Darla, obviously thinking he was the one leading her on, not having a clue that he was being led to the slaughter.
"Things you've never seen, never even heard of."
There's that melodrama again, Willow thought, tossing a quick look over her shoulder. She was almost free. Just a few more feet to the entrance of the alley.
"Sounds exciting."
"It is," she agreed. "And frightening."
"I'm not afraid," Liam said, and Willow knew he wasn't. "Show me. Show me your world."
Darla closed her eyes, and bid him to do the same.
Willow slipped out of sight of the couple and turned to run... straight into a male body... again. Damn it! She was about to push herself away when she was jerked roughly around.
"Hold still, Willow."
It was Spike. Oh, joy! He dragged her back to the alley entrance and grabbed her jaw, forcing her to watch Liam and Darla.
She'd never seen a vampire being made, and she had to admit to a certain curiosity, but she would rather have the choice. She opened her mouth to tell him off, when his hand tightened on her jaw.
"Watch," he ground out.
Darla put her hand on Liam's shoulder, letting her face turn. She smiled and growled, opening her mouth wide as she leaned down to bite him. Liam stiffened, gasping. From pain or blood loss, Willow wasn't sure, but when he sank to his knees, Darla followed him down, then let go. She stood up straight, lifting her hand to her chest, and drew a fingernail across the flesh. Blood trickled out. She grabbed Liam by the back of the neck and pulled him in to the cut, forcing him to drink her blood. He wrapped his arms around her and drank.
Willow, considerably paler and more nauseous than she'd been before, shoved against Spike's hold. He let her go and she ran back to their room.
Spike tiredly rubbed his face as he watched Willow disappear into the inn. What had the bint been doing out here in the first place? Humans were just as dangerous in this time as vampires were. Had she lied when she told him she'd never been attracted to Angel? Had she wanted to see him so badly that she'd disregarded her own safety just to get a gander?
No, that didn't make sense. When they'd seen Liam passed out in the alley, she hadn't seemed too attached, or curious. Still, she wouldn't be the first one. Most women seemed to fall for the wanker. Didn't matter, Willow would not be one of them. She could damn well keep her affections to herself. He left the alley behind without a backward glance.
Inside the inn, he went straight to the bar, ordering a pint of ale. While he waited for the barkeep to fill his mug, he took a look around. A familiar redhead at a corner table caught his eye and he cursed. Willow. Was she getting drunk? Admittedly, seeing a human die by the hand of a vampire and then be forced to become the very thing that had killed them wasn't a nice experience. But... oh, well, she'd get over it.
He grabbed his ale and joined her in the corner. "What's a nice witch like you doing in a time period like this?" he asked with a few sleazy looks at her cleavage, which was rather... ample, of late.
She turned angry eyes his way. "You're a bastard."
Spike sat in the chair opposite her, leaning his elbows on the table. "Yeah, and don't you forget it." He took a long drink, used to the bitter taste after a few days here. "Why were you out there? You could've been killed."
"I didn't know you cared," she sneered.
He slammed his mug down on the table. "I don't. You're my way home, unless I fancy living out the next two hundred and fifty years. Which I don't, 'cause mostly? Been there, done that."
"Poor thing," she bit out, "would you be inconvenienced? Try getting kidnapped, and being forced to participate in a spell that takes you away from everyone and everything you know."
"You'd better keep out of harms way," he said warningly.
She rolled her eyes and snorted, downing the last of her ale. "You just told me to keep myself safe, or else. Or else what, Spike? You'll *kill* me?"
Spike calmly drank the rest of his ale, then stood up, grabbing her hand as he passed her. She yelped and tried to pull her hand free, but he didn't let go. He pulled her upstairs, ignoring the barkeep's smirk. He quickly unlocked the door to their room, and shoved her inside. She fell to the floor, landing on her butt, and sat there glaring at him.
"Bastard," she hissed, climbing unsteadily to her feet.
"You're getting repetitive, Red." He stalked over to her, and yanked her up. "You want to know how I intend to punish you?"
He spun her around, so her back was to him, and lifted her hair off of her neck. He vamped out and sank his teeth into her neck. She screamed, struggling against him. Spike paid her no heed as he drank the heady mixture of blood and magick. Soon, her screams turned to whimpers, then to silence. Fearing he'd taken too much, he pulled away from her, and was quite surprised when she didn't fall bonelessly to the scarred wooden floor. Instead, she stood absolutely still.
Spike wiped his mouth on his hand before turning her around to face him. Her eyes were closed, hands fisted at her sides, anger radiating off of her. Spike almost took a step back.
"Get out."
He snorted at her. "Not likely."
She turned around without a word, opened one of the drawers in the dresser and pulled out a stake. Holding it high, she stalked back over to him. "Get--"
Spike reached out and grabbed the stake from her, tossing it out the window. "What the hell were you doing with that? Planning on killing me, Red? And why on earth didn't you take it with you earlier? Bloody hell, you're supposed to be the smart one, but so far, all I've seen is your stupidity."
All the anger seemed to leave her as she sat on the bed, shoulders slumped. "I was following you. Curiosity is a human trait too, you know. I figured I'd be safe if I stayed by you, then you disappeared down that alley, and Angel grabbed me, and I couldn't scream because he covered my mouth with his hand, and--"
"What?" Spike ground out. "Did he hurt you?" Hell, he'd been going on the assumption of her accosting Angel, not the other way around. If Angel had hurt her...
"No. Just brought back a few bad memories. And tattled on you."
"About what?" What could Liam possibly have on him that would interest Willow?
"Your nightly feeding, though he thought they were trysts, and since he thinks we're married, he thought it his duty to tell me that you're a womanizer." She laughed slightly, the sound almost hysterical. "Little did he know you were killing them, not... other things."
"I haven't killed anyone. Not since our first night here."
She tossed him an incredulous look. "Yeah, right."
"Drawing undue attention in a small town in Ireland and causing a mob to lynch me is not something I look forward to. I can be discreet when I want to." He took off his duster, and tossed it on the back of the chair before sitting down to remove his boots. "Bastard taught me that, if nothin' else."
"Well... good," she said, obviously at a loss, then switched subjects. "Why did you make me watch?"
Spike shrugged. "For fun?" She didn't need to know the real reason. He'd been showing her what might've happened to her if he hadn't found her there. But that might imply that he cared.
She reached up to touch the already healing bite mark on her neck. "Fair warning. I intend to drink at least one glass of holy water a day from now on, at different times. Bite at your own risk." She stood up and grabbed his black T-Shirt out of the dresser, and glared at him. Spike sighed and turned around, removing most of his own clothes before climbing into bed.
Time for another night of Willow wrapped around him while she slept. Another night of being so close to her magick filled blood, blood he'd just reacquainted himself with, and not being able to touch it. Or her. Not that he wanted to touch her. Not that he didn't want to touch her. But--
Willow cleared her throat, thankfully interrupting his thoughts. Her bare legs, as always, looked so enticing. He often found himself tangling his own legs with hers while she slept. She never knew. She woke up every day completely unaware of some of the positions she placed herself in during the night. Spike, on the other hand, was uncomfortably aware of all of them. And right now, after having tasted her again, he found other parts of him wanting her.
Gotta be the ale, he thought, rolling away from her.