A/N: You guys have been so great with the reviews, I thought I'd give you an early update. And before anyone tells me how cliched Willow's outfit is, keep in mind that this is all new to her, and she's guessing at what Spike would like, so yeah, she goes a little cliche. :)

Chapter 20
Unbounded

"It's got to be seductive, just giving in to it, going totally wild."
-Xander, 'Smashed'

Willow adjusted her clothing and turned to look at herself in the mirror. She was finally trying on the outfit she'd bought at the mall the day of the shoplifting trip. She'd been wearing more and more adventuresome outfits since that day, but she hadn't yet had the guts to put this ensemble on.

She was wearing a black leather bustier, with a very short plaid mini-skirt. An unbuttoned white dress shirt, tied at the waist, completed the naughty schoolgirl look. To top it all off, she wore black thigh-high leather boots with stiletto heels.

Willow surveyed herself in the mirror, and actually liked what she saw. True, she was still a little too shy to wear it out anywhere, but for the privacy of Spike's crypt, it was perfect.

Speaking of Spike, he would be there to pick her up, soon. She was just thinking that she'd better get changed, fast, when the door opened, and Buffy entered. The blonde stood in shock for a moment as she took in Willow's outfit.

"Willow, you are not wearing that!" Buffy announced.

Willow blushed a little, but asked defensively, "Why not?"

"Why not? Look at it! It's just so… so…"

"Sexy?" Willow offered.

"That wasn't the word I was searching for," Buffy informed her dryly.

Willow started to explain. "Buffy, relax, I'm only going to…"

"Relax? I'm not going to relax. There's no way William's going to like you in that outfit. You look like a tramp," Buffy announced.

There was dead silence for a moment, as both roommates realized that Buffy had gone too far. Willow started to get angry. Buffy didn't back down and apologize, though, which made Willow even angrier.

The sound of a motorcycle pulling up in front of the dorm broke the silence.

"Oh look, there's William," Willow said, her voice dangerously sweet, "I think maybe I will wear this after all. I wasn't planning to, but you've inspired me, Buffy. I'll just see how well he actually does like it."

With that, she swung her leather jacket over her shoulder and strolled out into the hallway.

Once there, though, her puffed-up confidence, fueled by anger, left her. The hallway was rather busy at that time of night, and she had to walk by all those eyes.

"Daa-amn, Willow," announced the boy from two doors down, "You work that outfit! It looks good on you."

"You really think so?" she asked, blushing a little.

"Absolutely. Your man's going to have a heart attack when he sees you."

"Thanks," she said gratefully, taking renewed confidence from the exchange. She straightened up and walked the rest of the hallway with something approaching attitude. Spike was going to go non-verbal when he saw her, she was sure of it. The wolf whistles and cat calls that followed her just fueled her assurance of that fact, even as they made her blush.

Willow walked out of the building and towards the waiting motorcycle. She knew the moment Spike spotted her, because he flipped up the visor of his helmet for a better look. She stopped to pose and preen for a moment as he watched her, apparently stunned speechless.

"That's quite an outfit, love," he finally managed, "To what do I owe the honor?"

"No reason. I just wanted to surprise you," she confided.

"You did, at that. It looks good on you, especially the leather," he informed her, reaching out an arm to draw her closer.

"I just have one question," Spike continued, "How were you planning to keep your skirt down on the back of the bike?"

"Magic," she replied glibly.

"Of course, how silly of me," he responded, "So, back to the crypt?" Spike's tone was hopeful.

Willow was about to say 'yes', when some imp of mischief struck her. She realized that if she was actually going to have the guts to wear this outfit, she wanted to wear it out.

"No," she corrected him, "I want to go dance somewhere."

"Shelter Club?" he offered, handing her helmet over, "It's probably safer than the Bronze."

Willow nodded her agreement as she put on her jacket and helmet. She swung a leg over the bike, noting with some embarrassment just how short her skirt really was. She tried not to let it bother her, though, as she cast her spell to keep it in place, and wrapped her arms around Spike, signaling that she was ready to go. With a roar, they took off, headed for the other side of town.

The Shelter Club was the other dance club in Sunnydale. Willow had been there once or twice with Oz and his band, but she had always preferred the Bronze. The clientele tended to be a little different, due mostly to the Shelter Club's rather lax carding policy. For tonight, it was perfect. No chance of running into Buffy or the others. Plus, Willow needed a drink or two if she was going to continue this charade of confidence.

They entered the club and stopped by the bar.

"Rum and coke?" Spike inquired, signaling for the bartender.

"Shot of vodka," Willow announced boldly. At Spike's lifted eyebrow, she amended, "And then a rum and coke."

Spike said nothing about the odd mix of drinks, ordering them along with his usual whiskey. They found a table near the dance floor and sat down.

Willow took up her shot glass, and bravely knocked it back in one go. She tried hard not to react to the taste, knowing that Spike was watching her. It was like drinking lighter fluid! She gratefully turned to her other, sweeter drink.

"So, this is the new you," Spike mused, placing a hand on her thigh, "I think I like it."

"Really?" Willow asked, a bit shyly.

"Absolutely," he assured her, leaning over for a kiss, "I can't wait to see you out on that dance floor."

She surveyed the floor in question as she drank. It was only about half full, most patrons preferring to sit and watch. She listened to the pulsating music, and wondered how long it would take to get her out there on the floor. The question was answered for her almost immediately, as the music switched over to a new song. It was one of Willow's favorites, and she just knew she had to dance to it.

"Dance with me, Spike?" she asked.

"You go on, dance by yourself. I want to watch," he leered at her. Her disappointment must have shown on her face, because he promised, "I'll join you on the slow numbers."

Willow was a little put out, but she really wanted to dance. Taking a final swig of her drink, she stepped out on to the dance floor.

It was a little tricky, dancing in heels, but she caught the hang of it fairly quickly. It wasn't the only thing she got quickly, either, as first one boy, and then another, came up to dance with her. Fairly soon, she had a whole circle of admirers.

At first she was worried that it would make Spike jealous, but every time she looked over, she saw no obvious reaction in him. Then she decided to try to make him jealous. She danced close to one of her dance partners, then another, then a third. She danced with them all, in fact, making sure never to dance too long with any one boy. She didn't want to lead them on too much, after all. Mostly she just reveled in the notion that she, Willow Rosenberg, was practically covered in cute guys. Maybe Spike had been right about her potential sexiness.

Speaking of Spike, she decided to rejoin him at their table. It had been quite a few songs, now, and she was thirsty. She waited for a break in the music, then started to head over. She didn't get very far.

"Hey, whoa, where you going?" one of the guys demanded, catching and holding her wrist.

Before Willow could even think of what to do or say, Spike was there, placing a protective arm around her waist.

"Problems, princess?" he asked, in a voice deceptively mild, all the while glaring at the boy.

Instantly, her hand was freed, as the guy quickly backed up, muttering, "No problem."

Willow whirled in Spike's arms and gave him a hug.

"Come on," he said, giving her a kiss, "We've got fresh drinks waiting for us."

"That was fun," Willow announced as they sat, "The dancing, I mean. I'm having a really good time."

"You looked like you were enjoying yourself," Spike agreed.

"I thought you would join me," she said, a little petulantly.

"I'm not much of a dancer, as you've probably noticed. I didn't want to cramp your style," he explained, "Besides, it looks like you had plenty of company, as it was."

Willow smiled a little at the hint of jealousy coloring Spike's voice. Maybe he wasn't quite as indifferent as he had seemed.

After a little while, Willow got up to dance again. This time, she didn't even bother to ask Spike. She strode out alone on to the floor, and began to gyrate. She wasn't alone for long, though, as her cloud of admirers quickly re-formed.

Still hoping to get Spike to join her, or at least make him jealous, Willow danced her very sexiest. She writhed and twisted, swung her hips from side to side, dipping as low as she could go, then drawing herself back up. She brushed up close to the guys surrounding her, flirting, teasing, even allowing a hand or two on her waist or hips. She felt graceful and beautiful; she felt powerful. Truthfully, she felt rather giddy and lightheaded, too, like she had when she was shoplifting.

A new song came over the speakers. Willow recognized it as the first song she and Spike had ever danced to. She turned back towards the table, intending to make Spike dance with her. Once more, someone grabbed her arm as she tried to leave.

Twice? she thought to herself, outraged, This actually happened twice? I guess they didn't watch the first time.

Spike immediately came to the rescue, again. Taking up his same protective stance, he asked, "Everything alright, kitten?"

"Everythin's fine," the rather drunk man slurred, "She's dancin' with me. So get lost, Blondie."

Spike bridled at that, and made a move towards the other man. Quickly, before Spike could make a scene and set his chip off, Willow acted. Applying a little magic, she sent blue sparks of lightning shooting out of her arm and into the drunk's hand. He yelped, and dropped her arm, backing away. Willow was rather satisfied with herself.

"Dance with me, Spike," she quickly ordered, trying to distract him from attempting to pound the now-retreating man. She didn't need Spike to get a migraine, now. She had plans for them tonight.

Reluctantly, Spike took her in his arms, and they swayed to the song that Willow was starting to think of as 'theirs'. She snuggled up close to the vampire, suddenly realizing how turned on she'd been by all the dancing. She wasn't ready to go back to the crypt, yet, though. She thought of something, then, that turned her on as much as dancing did.

"Spike?" she inquired, "Can we go hunting tonight?"

"In that outfit?" Spike was incredulous.

"I can be bait," Willow offered.

"You could, at that," he conceded.

"Please?" she begged, moving even closer so she could whisper sexily into his ear, "I'll do anything."

"Anything, huh?" Spike said thoughtfully, "I'll have to remember that. Alright, we can go hunting. It beats watching you flirt."

Willow smiled at that, and went to collect her jacket.

Willow let out a fake scream and began to run as well as she could in high heels. A pair of vampires chased after her, believing her to be easy prey. She swerved around a tombstone and started aiming for a small crypt up ahead. She didn't get very far, though. One heel caught in the springy turf and sent her sprawling to the ground. Her skirt flew up in the process, and Willow hastily shoved it back down as she rolled over. One of the vampires was stooping over her with an unpleasant leer on his face. For good measure, she screamed again. The vamp's expression grew greedy.

Suddenly, Spike appeared out of the gloom, rushing the vampire and sending him head-over-teakettle into the next row of graves. Willow stopped worrying about vampire number one, and instead focused on his pal.

The other vampire seemed momentarily taken aback by Spike's sudden appearance, but soon zeroed in on Willow as being the more profitable target. He bent over her, arms reaching out to pin her down. Willow put her hands out, as if trying to ward him off. She waited a moment, until he was sure of his success, then sent magical energy flying out of her palms, blasting him backward. He hit a nearby tree so hard, it shook, sending a rain of leaves to the ground.

She held him there with another one of her spells, a web spell. It essentially immobilized her prey from the neck down. She got up and carefully checked her heel for damage. It was fine. Then she pulled out a stake and levitated it, walking slowly over to the squirming vampire. She brought the stake around to press lightly over the heart.

"Please don't stake me!" the vampire pleaded frantically, "Please just let me go! I'm sorry! I'll never attack you again! Just let me go, please!"

Willow snorted at the pathetic begging. She'd heard it all before.

"Now what would be the fun in that?" she questioned, cocking her head to the side. Slowly, she took a grip on her stake; slowly, she drew it back as far as her arm would go. The vampire whimpered pitifully as he begged still harder. She cocked her head to one side, as if considering him, choosing to wait a long moment to draw out the suspense. Then her arm snapped forward as she buried the stake deep into his chest. She grunted a little from the impact, then waved away the resulting dust, well satisfied with this last staking.

Spike had finished off his opponent as well, and stood nearby, having a smoke. She could tell that he'd been watching her staking, but his only comment was, "Was that a thong I saw, pet?"

She ignored him.

"Well, that's six," she said, coming over to join him, "Not bad for one night."

"Especially in those boots," Spike commented, "But you do make lovely bait, princess."

She preened a little at his comment, then put her arms around him and snuggled up to his hard body. She could feel his growing excitement, an excitement that she shared.

Feeling bold, she glanced around her until she found a tombstone of the right height. She went over and perched on it, beckoning Spike closer. Mystified, he did as she asked. Once he was in range, she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him in closer. He was still a little unsure of her motives, she could tell, until the moment she started unbuckling his belt.

"Right here, pet?" he breathed, darting in to kiss her below the ear.

"Got a problem with that?" she teased, well pleased with herself. She was enjoying this whole 'being naughty' thing.

"Not I," he assured her.

Spike carefully unwrapped her legs for a moment, so he could slip off her panties. They disappeared into his coat pocket.

"I'll just keep these, if you don't mind," he informed her.

Willow sighed. She'd lost more good underwear that way. She wrapped her legs around him once more.

They didn't bother with preliminaries, both already being fairly wound up from hunting. Spike brought their bodies together with a swift motion. Willow clutched at him, not wanting to lose her balance on her precarious perch. They ground against each other for a good while, Spike thrusting roughly into her. It was much more the way Willow had imagined sex with the vampire would be like. She smiled happily as they rapidly picked up the pace, both panting with effort, even Spike. Finally, he called out her name, her real name, and she shrieked her pleasure to the heavens. Slowly, they came back down, leaning against one another.

Spike kissed Willow's forehead, and held her close.

"Was that alright, pet? I usually tend to be more…creative, but you seemed like you were in a hurry," he said, looking at her with concern.

"In case you couldn't tell, it was wonderful," she assured him, still high from the evening's activities.

"Yeah, you're likely to bring the Slayer down on us, a scream like that," Spike joked, refastening his jeans.

Willow smiled at that, then pulled him in for a passionate kiss. She was suddenly eager for more, much more.

"Well, then, we should go to your crypt. And you can show me just how creative you can be," she purred, getting down from her perch and adjusting her skirt.

Spike got an evil grin across his face, as he took her hand. "Right you are," he responded, beginning to pull her towards his abode.

Willow woke slowly the next morning, stretching slightly. She was careful not to disturb Spike, still sleeping peacefully, sprawled across the bed. She quickly found one of his t-shirts on the floor and put it on, before heading for the upper level.

She strolled over to the fridge for something to drink, still thinking over the night before. She poured herself a glass of orange juice, glad her boyfriend still stocked human food.

Spike had been great last night, she mused to herself. Vastly creative, with more than a century of experience to draw from, and pleasantly aggressive, too. Gone were the days when he treated her like spun glass, and she was glad of the change. He'd left her delightfully sore this morning, in fact.

She frowned, then, as she noticed a faint bruising around her wrists. She was sore, in a wonderfully good way, granted, but Spike had managed to mark her. He'd actually hurt her last night, in spite of the chip.

She thought for a moment that maybe all that adrenaline last night had kept her from truly feeling pain, allowing Spike to fool the chip, but she knew it wasn't true. She'd been in pain for brief moments, she just hadn't cared at the time.

There was no denying it. Somehow, some way, Spike had freed himself from the chip. He was dangerous again. Anger flooded Willow as she realized Spike must have been lying to her, but still, she wasn't sure what to do. She could always call Buffy, but that could end only one way for Spike. She couldn't bring herself to do that, not yet. Spike had shown no signs of wanting to kill her. He hadn't even gone after the Slayer, yet. Maybe he didn't even realize the chip was inactive. Angry as she was, Willow still decided that she needed to hear his half of the story.

Going over to where they kept their patrolling gear, she forked out a stake and a cross from the jumble. She might be willing to listen to him, but she wasn't stupid. Once cornered, he could lash out and kill her in a heartbeat. Properly armed, she made her way back downstairs.

Spike was still sleeping, sprawled on his back with arms outstretched. Normally, Willow thought it cute, how much space he could take up. Right now, though, she was feeling far too angry and betrayed to notice.

Willow used one of her web spells to trap him and pin him to the bed. She had no doubts about her chances if Spike was actually able to move. She climbed up on the bed and straddled him, laying her stake and cross down on either side.

She hit him once on the shoulder. "Spike, wake up."

He woke up a little groggily, and peered at her. "Well, this is a lovely surprise, pet…"

He trailed off then, as he started to move but couldn't. He tried again. Willow could see him strain against the invisible bonds.

"Uh, princess…?" he began.

"Don't call me 'princess'," she snapped, "Or 'pet', either. I'm mad at you, Spike."

"What did I do?" he asked with a frown.

She brought the stake and cross up into view, and watched with satisfaction as Spike's eyes widened with fear.

"You lied to me," she hissed.

Spike couldn't seem to take his eyes off the stake. She brought it forward, near his chest, just to watch him tense. After a long moment, he was finally able to answer her.

"Lied about what?" he asked cautiously, still watching the stake.

"The chip, Spike. Your chip. It isn't working anymore. And don't try to tell me it is!" she barked the last sentence, brandishing the stake menacingly. He flinched.

"I've got bruises on both my wrists," she continued, "So I know it's not working."

Spike seemed to make up his mind about something, taking a deep, unnecessary breath before beginning to speak.

"You're right, it's not," he confessed, "It short-circuited, or something, when you were trying that probe spell."

"That's why you wouldn't let me try again!" she cried, enlightened. Then a darker thought struck her. "Spike, that was weeks ago. You've been killing since then?"

"No!" he protested, trying to sit up. The web spell continued to hold him down.

Willow was furious, sure that he was lying. She brought her cross down on to his stomach, and held it there.

Spike clenched his fists and jaw, but he didn't cry out. Through gritted teeth, he said, "I'm not lying to you, Willow."

She eased up with the cross, still doubtful. "You're telling me you've been able to kill for weeks, now, and you haven't been feeding?"

"Feeding, yes," he admitted, "Killing, no. I've been letting them go. Figured you wouldn't like it if I killed."

Willow took a moment to digest this news. Spike had refrained from killing. For her. It boggled the mind. There was still one problem with his little food plan, though.

"You're hurting innocent people. People who don't deserve it," she said quietly.

"Not the blokes I go after," Spike assured her, "I thought of that. I've been feeding on thieves, rapists, murderers. Well, not so much that last one, but nasty sorts, the kind you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley."

Willow eyed him cautiously, still unsure whether to believe him or not. She toyed with the cross, considering.

"Sometimes I don't feed for days," Spike continued, taking advantage of her silence, "If I can't find anyone suitable, then I'm stuck with pig's blood. I did it for you, Willow. I couldn't lose you."

The sentiment struck a chord in Willow's heart, but she was still uncertain. She knew there was one way to find out. She brought her cross up and held it to his chest.

"It's the truth, I swear it," he grunted, fighting the pain.

"Your word's not too terribly reliable, William," she informed him, picking a new spot and trying again.

"I could have turned you that day," he noted, still squirming slightly, "I had the opportunity, and I didn't do it. Or any day after that, either. That has to count for something."

She pulled back, then, considering. He did have a point. But did it mean that he'd really changed? As she thought, she began idly drawing circles around Spike's heart with the stake. She noted with some amusement how Spike tried to suck in his chest, to get it further away from the stake. She smiled a little at the sight.

Suddenly, it struck her, how helpless Spike was, lying there. She realized just how in control she actually was. Spike's unlife was in her hands. She felt the heady rush of power as she realized that she could do anything she wanted to him, and he couldn't resist her.

Teasingly, she trailed the end of the cross lightly across his skin, from his throat to his navel. Even as he hissed in pain, Spike seemed to catch the change in her mood, and he gave her a wary, speculative look.

"Alright, I believe you, Spike. But no feeding on innocent people," she admonished, shaking the stake at him.

He sighed in relief. "Now can you let me up, pet?"

"Maybe, maybe not." She smiled an evil grin, and leaned forward, letting the cross hover inches above his skin.

"Play now?" she crooned.

Spike smiled at her slowly, his tongue pressed up against his teeth.

"Lose the stake, princess, and we can play any game you want," he told her.

Willow thought about it for a moment, toying with the stake, and making Spike flinch once more. Smiling, she tossed it away, then went to work with the cross.

It was a long time before she let Spike up again.