Author: Lucinda

pairing: Willow/Spike

seventeenth in Second Best story-line.

y-14, for emotional content, possible swearing, possible violence, and moderate sexuality; nothing higher than the series.

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, Bite Me, Cat, Feen, Soulmates, WWW - anyone else please ask

note: set in AU season 6. Happy Birthday to Gabrielle.

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Spike would love to claim that he wasn't nervous as he drove over to pick up Willow to catch the new Harry Potter movie. That he didn't keep swallowing because he felt like something was stuck in his throat, or his hands didn't have this irritating wobble when he held them out. That he hadn't gone through his wardrobe several times before settling on a pair of blue jeans and a faded shirt advertising an album by the Sex Pistols.

Of course, it would have been a lie.

He shouldn't have been as nervous. He knew that Willow found him attractive, and that she knew he was a vampire. That she'd seen him all grr. Bloody hell, they'd been in the midst of a relationship already.

A relationship that he'd destroyed.

He didn't want to repeat that part. The relationship, hell yes. The gory, gut-wrenching loss at the end of it when she walked away from him? No. Which meant that he'd best get things right, keep them right. And that brought him back to the fact that he was nervous.

She was there, waiting for him at the front of her building, dressed in black slacks, a white button up shirt with... with a blue and metallic striped scarf. Not quite a Harry Potter costume, but a good approximation if she was in Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw would be a good fit for her, he'd have to admit that. Though he could see her in Slytherin, maybe Hufflepuff - look how loyal she'd been to Xander and the Slayer over the years. ... no, he didn't want to think about the Slayer.

"Looking gorgeous, luv. Ready to go see how much they butchered this one?" Spike smiled at her.

With a giggle, she skipped around his car, the door opening before she could even touch it. "Are you going to steal all my popcorn at this one?"

Still grinning, he winked, "Of course I am. Isn't very manly to get that big bag of popcorn for myself, but if I get it for you, then that looks all considerate, and then I can eat it anyhow."

"I knew there was a conspiracy about that," she murmured, eyes sparkling with amusement.

Soon enough, they were at the theater, settling into their seats with large drinks and a huge bag of popcorn. Spike was reminded of one of the problems with modern theaters, "Who the hell thought it would be a good idea to play commercials before the show? Previews are one thing, but… commercials for cars and shoes and crisps are just absurd."

"We'd have missed them if we'd taken about another ten minutes to get here," Willow glanced around the theater, seeing only a few scattered empty seats, "But then we might have had trouble finding somewhere to sit."

"I bet I could scare a few of them out of their seats," Spike offered.

"Then they'd spill their drinks and popcorn all over the seats," her nose wrinkled as she pictured the mess that would leave.

They quieted when the previews began. He kept sneaking handfuls of the popcorn, though he enjoyed looking at her face, washed with different colors from the screen more than the popcorn, drenched with butter flavored topping. No real butter, just butter flavored.

Finally the movie began, with the tinkling little theme song and the wretched Dursleys. He imagined that the neighborhood would be improved if the three of them were killed, and that while not terribly healthy, the man would have plenty of blood… Pain crackled through his skull in a warning. "Damn chip."

"The Dursleys do seem like the sort of people who could use a good killing," Willow admitted. After a moment, she then added a very unconvincing, "..but it's bad to kill people just because they're annoying."

"What about killing them for child abuse? Overworking, underfeeding, all sorts of insults… look at the walrus and the junior walrus, it's obviously not a question of not being able to afford to feed the poor kid," Spike gestured at the screen.

"Valid arguments," she considered the screen, chewing on her bottom lip a moment before reminding them both, "They're characters in a book. The actors could be decent enough people. Of course, if we ran into any real life Dursleys… That would be different. And it would probably improve the life of the corresponding real world Harry. Killing monsters is okay, right?"

"You have a long history of that, luv. But I thought the Dursley's were all human. Human and as muggle as you could get?" Part of his mind flashed through the various demons and vampires that he could remember her killing. Glorious violence, and proof that she was more than a pretty face and the magic.

"Some of the worst monsters are. It isn't a question of sharp teeth or claws, it's what you do and why. Demons generally eat people because they're hungry, they don't shove them into cupboards and lie about their family because they want to make a little boy suffer."

"Some do, but then, the kids in question aren't their family," Spike muttered. "Some demons are a nasty lot."

Spike was pleasantly surprised that they hadn't butchered the book too badly when they made the movie. He whispered mocking comments about Lockhart and the Malfoys to Willow, treasuring her smothered giggles. Watching the Quidditch game was fun as well, and made him wish that he could play a game with great iron balls flying around whacking into people. The whole sunshine thing might be a complication, but it looked like a lot of fun.

He hadn't expected her to squeak and fling her arms around him when they got to the basilisk in the chamber. There were hints of genuine fear, not only in her voice but in her scent, and he could feel her shaking against him. Not that she was the only one, but… he expected the oblivious masses to be afraid, but not his Willow. "Luv, what's wrong? I've got you, you're safe…"

"It looks like the Mayor after his Ascension," her words were muffled against his chest.

Spike shuddered at that, knowing that an Ascension was beyond 'bad news' and well into 'could end the world as we bloody well know it.' He had no trouble believing that someone on the Hellmouth would have tried something like that, but to hear that they'd come close… no, that he'd actually succeeded was different. It explained all the Mayor McDemon cracks that had been made, the comments that he'd dismissed as empty words to make themselves feel better when fighting the next big bad.

Eventually, the climactic fight between scrawny Harry Potter and the giant snake was over, with the diary impaled and shredded by the nasty internal light. Evil vanquished and all that rot… Not that the idea was bad, just that the special effects were a bit over-flashy for his taste.

"The bird's carried them out, even the poncy fraud of an instructor. You can look again," he rubbed her back, not minding the feeling of her clinging to his chest in the slightest.

"Sorry, I thought I was over that," she sniffled, and sighed, "The scene didn't bother me to read it."

"S'all right, I didn't mind. Watch, the arrogant wanker's about to get blasted into the wall," his glee at the impending humiliation of the over-groomed blond wizard was fun. "Overly pretty nancy-boy like that, it's a bloody miracle that he's got a son. Or maybe it's a potion."

They both watched as Lucius Malfoy was flung down the hallway and into a wall. He staggered back to his feet and limped away, dignity in tatters.

"Wizards must have a bit more bounce to them, a normal human would have cracked some bones hitting that wall," he observed. Past experience had shown that bones could break from far less force than that scene, and the people rarely could stagger back to their feet and walk away. Normally they crumpled to the ground or floor and whimpered, sometimes with screams and pleading.

They waited until the crowd had surged out before they left the theater. It helped avoid people stepping on their feet, or catching elbows in their chests. Her hand was resting in his, and Spike liked that feeling.

"Fancy a bit of coffee before I take you back to your place?" His thumb brushed over the back of her hand, and he hoped that she'd say yes. Not that he didn't have a few racier hopes, but he pushed those towards the back of his mind as 'unlikely for tonight.'

"There's that nice place near the campus," she glanced at him. "It's open pretty late, so there's no need to rush out."

It wasn't long before they were sitting at one of the little tables in the back, with steaming mugs in front of them. Hoping that he wasn't about to send the night crashing down in flames, he asked, "Have you considered going back? To California, to your friends?"

"I don't plan to go back to Sunnydale. Not ever. Giles probably won't stay much longer than Buffy's time there, and maybe Anya can talk Xander into relocating somewhere with a better life expectancy, especially if they want a family. But there's no reason to go back. Not enough happy memories and too many bad ones," She blew over the top of her mug, her eyes tracking the bits of froth at the top. "And I don't want to be the person I used to be when I lived there. I won't go back to being door-mat girl, or oblivious girl."

"So life goes on elsewhere?" He couldn't find the courage to ask if part of what she wanted to leave behind was him. She'd said she was willing to give him another chance, to try to see if they could start over. That didn't keep away the worry. "Brilliant education, eventual job… do you plan to have a family, children someday?"

She looked up at him, a tiny smile on her face. "You do realize there are options now, right? There's adoption, there's sperm banks and clinics… I can have a family even if I don't have a human guy keeping my toes warm at night."

She took a careful sip of her drink, "If that's what I want. I'm a bit too young to be bringing children into my life right now. Maybe down the road, once I have a solid job, and a home that isn't a three room apartment."

A swallow of his own drink, the heat of it searing down his throat, prevented him from saying something stupid. He'd been afraid that she'd get this whole biological urge to have a family, and that he'd be kicked to the curb, being dead and unable to give her babies. He'd forgotten about the options available now, options that hadn't been there when he was mortal.

"With options like that, you don't need to depend on having a partner who can… Someone alive," he mumbled.

"But I would still want someone with me. Someone that I loved, and trusted, someone to help me through life and the troubles from life, jobs, children… maybe the occasional fighting with monsters," her words were soft. "Life's no fun if you're alone."

"No, it really isn't," he agreed, thinking of his mortal days as the rejected poet, of the times when Drusilla had left him, when he'd arrived in Sunnydale, drunk and miserable, when Willow had left.

He wanted to be with her, to make sure that she was never alone again.

End Second Best 17: Facing the Future.