Making a Princess- Page Two


Part 6


The next several weeks passed quickly. They had fallen into a routine. Everyday they would get up in the early afternoon, so Spike could watch his soap operas; he had a weird fixation with ‘Passions’ that Willow found quite amusing. Then he would spend some time in the basement with his minions, training them to improve their fighting skills. His minions, now six in number, were less than pleased with all the extra work. Vampires have a natural ability, an innate sense of power and grace, although Spike apparently had chosen this particular group for their thuggish qualities, but still they did have a great deal of athleticism. This however was not good enough for Spike. He wanted them ready incase the slayer and her little mates decided to drop by for a visit.


Willow loved to watch them train. It was like watching a ballet with fangs and growling. It never ceased to amaze her how powerful Spike was, as she observed him repeatedly thwarting the attacks of his little troupe. He had also started training her how to fight as well. He knew there was no real risk in this, because in a hundred years she would never be able to take him, but it might give her a slight edge if one of his minions were to make an unwelcome advance. He had already dusted three of them for this reason, but was hoping their replacements would be a little smarter.


Willow took to fighting quickly, all her countless hours of watching the slayer surely helped with this. Spike was a little surprised to learn that the slayer had never bothered to train any of her mates, considering how often they went on patrol with her, but Willow simply explained that Buffy was afraid they would be more reckless if they had some training. She had preferred to keep them unskilled and under her protection, believing in her own twisted way that they would be safer somehow. Buffy may have been a bit callous at times, but despite what Spike may have been implying, Willow knew she would never intentionally endanger her friends.


By the time they were done training the sun would have set, and Spike would go out to hunt, leaving Willow securely chained in their locked bedroom. It was an inconvenience, but one she didn’t mind so much any more. He was never gone for long, and when he returned, they would have their more ‘private’ lessons.


Part of these lessons was about pain, and part was about pleasure, but mostly they were about trust. At first he had started out small, a little candle wax, some spanking, and Willow was hooked. She learned quickly that a little pain could bring with it an immense amount of pleasure, and slowly gave herself up to the sensations. The first time Spike wanted to blindfold her she was terrified, but once she realized that he didn’t plan on taking things beyond what they had already done, she was able to relax a little and focus on the feel of his hand striking her bare bottom, somehow always surprised with each blow.


Soon, they had moved on to more serious play. Spike had his minion, George, a former carpenter; build a type of St. Anne’s cross in the basement for the two of them. Willow was a little confused by this. She couldn’t understand why Spike would want any kind of cross, or why his minion would be willing to build one. However, when she finally saw it she realized the name had been misleading because it didn’t look like a cross at all, but more like a large wheel with an X in the middle for someone to be strapped to. Then the wheel could be spun while the person on it was whipped. The sensation was a little overwhelming at first, but not at all unpleasant. Spike was always very careful not to go too hard on her; he didn’t want to risk leaving any permanent marks on her body.


All this ‘torture’ would work the pair into a frenzy, so that they finally had to drag a mattress into the basement because they so rarely made it back upstairs before Willow had ripped Spike’s clothes off. Then afterwards the pair of them would take a stroll by the harbor and talk. Spike wasn’t quite ready yet to let Willow go out in public, but he was becoming more relaxed in their own neighborhood, and everyday he would bring her books and other things to keep her occupied while he was off hunting.


Spike was truly a conundrum; he was a brutal killer, ruthless with his minions, and particularly fond of torture, yet he was also a hopeless romantic, he was addicted to soaps and romance novels, and he was a poet (even though he would rather dust himself than admit it). It was hard for her not to develop strong feelings for this creature that had so completely taken over her life, but it still wasn’t love, more like addiction maybe. An addiction Willow let consume her with a flame that grew brighter with each passing night.


However, over time, despite how stimulating her ‘lessons’ were, she was becoming restless having to spend so much time locked in their bedroom. Willow was curious about the city she had been brought to, and wanted to explore the historical sites. She was also interested in learning more about vampire culture, namely hunting. Living on the hellmouth she had seen plenty of vampires, and had also seen many people die, but a lot had changed since then.


Back then such things left her feeling completely horrified, but now things were different, she was different. She understood the importance of blood, and how necessary it was to Spike’s existence, just as he was necessary to her existence. In truth, she had wanted him to turn her for some time now. She no longer wanted to deal with the moral battle being waged within her, she wanted to throw in the towel and give over to the darkness. But Spike didn’t think she was ready yet, although after much begging, he did finally agree to take her hunting with him.


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The night Willow was to first go hunting with Spike, she was beside herself with anticipation. Tonight she would overcome her pesky morality. She would prove to herself once and for all that the tiny voice in her head that hadn’t shut up since she was first kidnapped, didn’t know what it was talking about. She was not Willow the computer geek, Willow the doormat; she was a killer just waiting to be born. It had to be true, she was evil. Why else would she be so thoroughly turned on by pain? Tonight, she would look death in the face and smile. Then Spike will see that she was ready, and he would finally free her of her burdensome mortality. Yes, tonight was her night.


The pair of them left just after dusk. On their way out, Willow could here the minions taking bets on how far she would allow Spike to go, before she tried to stop him. They all were convinced she would chicken out. ‘I’ll show them,’ she thought bitterly, ‘I’m not a weakling anymore, and once I’m turned, they’ll all pay.’ She clung tighter to Spike’s hand for reassurance, and he gave her a gentle squeeze back.


Spike was a little worried about how the evening could go. He wasn’t sure she was ready for this. In fact, he hadn’t planned on teaching her about hunting, until after she was turned. But she had been so insistent that he had finally relented. ‘Oh hell, what’s the worst that could happen? Even if Red decides to run, she won’t get far, and besides, this way she gets to see how manly you really are,’ he thought to himself. However, just to be on the safe side he would pick his dinner carefully. A dive bar with few customers should do, drunks always made easy targets, and also cut down on his liquor expenses since he could get drunk just from their blood. Also that way it would be easier to keep an eye on Red.


They arrived at their destination after driving around for twenty minutes or so. It was a small pub, somewhat secluded from the other businesses and bars, sandwiched between two abandoned buildings. In fact, Willow was a little surprised it was still in business. When they stepped inside to see only a handful of patrons, she doubted they would be open for much longer. Spike had his arm wrapped possessively around her waist as he sauntered over to the bar, ushering her along beside him.


“Would you like a drink luv?”


“Umm, ok, I’ll have a Shirley Temple,” she said, then noticing the bartender’s and Spike’s raised eyebrows, she realized that this was a child’s drink, and blushed with embarrassment.


“Tell you what, I’ll take whatever import you have on tap, and why don’t you give the lady a shot of cinnamon schnapps,” Spike said, repressing a chuckle. No matter how debauched she became, his princess had a streak of innocence a mile wide.


The bartender handed them their drinks, and Spike paid him with money he had stolen from last night’s dinner. Then, carrying their beverages, they headed over to an out of the way table. After sitting there for some time with Willow eyeing her drink suspiciously, Spike finally had to say something.


“It’s just a drink pet, it’s not gonna hurt you.”


“Will it taste bad?”


“Nah, it’ll just taste like cinnamon, same as you,” he said with a mischievous grin, “Just toss it back, all at once luv, you’ll like it.”


Willow did as she was instructed, letting out a small squeak as the clear substance burned its way down her throat. It felt as if she had taken a shot of liquid fire, and it was making her eyes water.


“You tricked me,” she managed to gasp out.


“Did not, I said it wouldn’t taste bad, and it doesn’t,” he said, leaning forward to give her a deep kiss and licking his lips afterwards, “Mmmm, delicious. And I promise, after a few more, you’ll love ‘em.”


Spike was right, two hours and six shots later, she did love them. Of course by this point she was completely smashed, and Spike decided it was time to cut her off. They needed to get on with what they had come here for, but if Red became too much of a handful, it might make things more difficult. ‘Time for coffee,’ he thought, heading back up to the bar. While he stood there waiting he noticed a guy sitting on a nearby stool in a rumpled suit, with rumpled hair to match, crying in his whiskey.


“What’s the trouble mate?” Spike asked, eyeing his potential dinner.


“Whas’ at?” the man slurred back.


“You having lady troubles?” he guessed. After living for so long, he had seen it a million times. Bloke crying in his drink equals broken heart. And this gave him an idea, maybe Red could lure him outside. It would be much easier than Spike trying to come up with a believable excuse for the two of them to take a walk.


“Bitch left me,” the drunk replied, looking up at the strange man, “Hey aren’t you that guy, whas’ iz name, Billy Bible or somethin’?”


“Billy Idol, and no,” he hated it when people thought he looked like Billy Idol, that wanker stole his look from Spike years ago. “Look mate, I’ve been through this myself once or twice. What you need is another chit to take your mind off the ex, like that cute little redhead over there,” he said, pointing at Willow .


“Look pal, I appreeziate the offer, but I already spent all my money on wishhkey,” the man slurred in response, not wanting to have problems with a hooker and her pimp.


“She’s not a harlot,” Spike said trying to control his rage at the implication. After all, if he were in this man’s position he probably would have thought the same thing. “She’s a really nice bird, said she thought you were cute, but she was just to shy to say so herself. I think she feels sorry for you, sittin’ here cryin’ in your drink, said she wanted to cheer you up if you know what I mean.”


“And you’re not her pimp?” the man asked, still unsure. “No, I’m just a friend. Tell you what, why don’t I send her over to talk to you herself.” And with that Spike grabbed the cup of coffee he had been waiting for, and walked back to the table where Willow was waiting.


“Ok baby, it’s time to hunt. Are you ready?” he asked, eyeing her wobbly form a bit warily.


“Ready Freddy!” she replied with a giggle.


“Alright, I want you to go over to the guy at the bar, and ask him real nice like to go outside with you. Can you do that for me pet?”


“That’s an affirmative captain!” she said, saluting him as she stood and haphazardly wobbled over to the bar.


Spike was really starting to think this whole thing was a bad idea, while he watched her approach her fellow drunk. She was going to blow it somehow, he was sure of it, but then he saw her casually drape her arm across the man’s shoulders, and lean in close to whisper in his ear. All thoughts of her scaring away his prey vanished, and were replaced by jealous rage. This really was a bad idea. Then as he watched, the two of them stood and stumbled out of the bar. Spike followed close behind, as Willow led him down the street a little and into an alley.


The man’s hands were all over her, as he tried to focus enough through his intoxication to pull Willow ’s clothes off. Willow in all her drunkenness didn’t mind all the pawing, in fact as the man pushed her up against a wall and ground his erection against her she thought this wasn’t bad at all. However, just as she was thinking this, Spike pulled the drunk off her, and held his squirming body tightly, with one hand over his mouth. He couldn’t believe his eyes, his ‘princess’ was about to let this bleedin’ wanker fuck her in a dirty alley! His rage was almost blinding, but he fought to control it somewhat, otherwise he may well rip her pretty little head off.


“So, you wanted to learn about hunting?” he asked her, not bothering to hide his disgust, “First rule when killing in public, make it quick. You show no mercy, and waste no time, that way your less likely to get caught.”


As he said this, he slipped into his game face, never taking his eyes off Willow . She slid to the ground under the weight of his stare. She didn’t know what she had done to anger him so much, but the look he was giving her was one of rabid fury. Suddenly she felt sorry for the man struggling in Spike’s grasp. She had known from the minute she had seen Spike talking to him that he was going to die and it hadn’t bothered her, but now she felt differently. It was one thing for him to be killed to satisfy a need, but it had become more than that. She didn’t think anyone deserved to die from the kind of rage Spike was directing at the both of them.


She had wanted to be strong, to prove that she was ready to accept all the aspects of vampire life, but now she didn’t think she could go through with it, she couldn’t watch this man die. But feeling Spike’s stare still upon her, she couldn’t move either. There was no point trying to save him, Spike rarely listened to reason and never when he was angry. She tried to re-embrace her darker self, this had been what she wanted. People die everyday, and today was this man’s day. She realized Spike was waiting, watching her to see if she would turn away, to see if she was weak. She lifted her chin, gritting her teeth, and looked him strait in the eye.


“Do it,” she commanded coldly.


Spike bit down hard on the man’s throat, severing his jugular, and spraying a good deal of the area with blood, including Willow . She felt the warm spray hit her, and it caused her stomach to lurch. Spike covered the wound to prevent further waste of blood, and drank deeply. Willow couldn’t watch anymore, she turned her head away and heaved upon the ground. When it was over, Spike dropped the drained corpse to the ground, and lunged for her. His rage had still not been completely sated.


He hauled her up, and pinned her hard against the wall. He roughly shoved her short skirt up around her waist, and grabbing her panties with one hand, ripped them from her body. Willow felt as if she was falling down a well, consumed by darkness. She was only vaguely aware of him undoing his pants, before he slamed his full length into her dry channel. ‘What was happening?’ she wondered. His body was warm from the recent kill, and she found herself running her hands across his face, fascinated by the heat and color that was suddenly there. She ripped open his shirt so she could run her hands across his chest as well, she wanted to feel his warmth, so different from his normally cool skin, like life had suddenly stirred within him.


She pulled her own shirt off to increase this contact as she rode him harder, moaning wildly with her new arousal. She kissed him hard, tasting the dead man’s blood on Spike’s lips, the same blood that covered most of her body, and she wanted more. She lowered her mouth to his throat as he pounded into her, and bit down savagely, creating a much deeper wound than she ever had before. She drank his blood down greedily, relishing in the taste of him.


Spike’s demon roared in lust and rage at the woman who was trying to dominate him. He bit down into her shoulder, wanting to devour her, dominate her in return. The sharing of their blood, together with their frantic and brutal coupling sent Spike over the edge. He pulled his head back and roared as he came, his pulsating cock spilling his dead seed inside her. The sound of his obvious orgasm drove Willow over the edge as well, causing her walls to clench tightly around his member, milking him of the last of his essence.


When it was all over, they remained unmoving, clinging to each other for dear life. Both of them had been changed by the experience. Willow had wanted to embrace the darkness within her, and had succeeded, but at what cost? Spike after seeing Willow with another man had wanted nothing more than to murder the both of them. The man he was content to just kill, but Willow he had wanted to hurt first. He wanted to violate her, the way he had felt violated.


What had happened between them was not an act of sex, but an act of violence; one they had both embraced whole heartedly. It was rare for Spike to be bothered by his own darkness, as a demon it was simply part of who he was, but when he saw that darkness reflected in Willow , it did scare him. He had come so close to killing her, the woman he loved, and she was happy to let him do it. Any question he had had of her devotion to him, vanished. He felt somewhat sick at the realization that he had taken this child who was full of life and happiness, and turned her into a creature of darkness, just like him.


Finally Spike lowered Willow back down on to shaking legs, but still the pair did not move. They simply continued to hold each other for several more minutes, their foreheads resting together, both with their eyes closed tightly, afraid of what they might see if they opened them. Spike was the first to break the silence between them.


“ Willow , baby, I’m so sorry for what I’ve done to you,” he said with a slight sob, his voice full of remorse.


She didn’t quite understand why he was sorry, but she didn’t want him to be unhappy because of her. She ran her fingers through his straw like curls, and kissed him softly.


“Let’s go home,” she said gently, finally breaking contact to rearrange her skirt and pull her shirt back on. Spike nodded, adjusting his pants, and tossing away the torn remnants of his T-shirt. Then remembering about the body, took a quick moment to toss it into a dumpster. He returned, and took her hand in his. His jaw was held tight, and Willow knew he was fighting the urge to break down and cry. She had seen him do it before, when Drusilla had left him for a chaos demon, but this time was different, because somehow she was responsible. She wanted to take his pain away, but wasn’t quite sure how, so instead she simply led him back to the car, and sat in silence during the drive home.


When they arrived back, all was quiet. It was several more hours until dawn, and all the minions had gone out to play. Willow led him upstairs and into their bathroom, starting the taps on the tub. While she waited for it to fill, she undressed and then went about undressing him as well. The pair of them sat in the enormous tub, this time with Willow cradling Spike, as she tenderly washed away the layer of blood and dirt that covered the both of them.


Spike said nothing, he had been silent since they had left the alley; he didn’t know what to say. In a way it was kind of funny. He had wanted to break her down, make her dependent on him so he would have someone to take care of, and here she was taking care of him. Somewhere along the line he had lost control of things. He thought if he could just train her, break her the way Angelus had done with Dru, that she would be his forever, and they would be happy. But in the process he had broken himself as well. He was afraid he had sacrificed whatever shred of humanity that was left within him.


He should of thought this through more, this wasn’t the right way for him to find a mate. With Angelus it had been different, he had been looking for a plaything, not a mate. Plus Angelus was so much more of a bastard than Spike ever was. He hated to admit that his poof of a sire could ever be stronger than him, but he was, there wasn’t a single trace of compassion in that man during the old days. No matter how much Spike hated the idea of being soft, he just wasn’t like that. He wanted a willing mate. He wanted Willow to stay because she wanted to, not because she was afraid.


Lost in his thoughts, Spike didn’t even notice when Willow drained the water from the tub. Then, cursing softly when she realized there were no towels, she led them, still damp, to the bed. Spike was shaking slightly and Willow wrapped herself around him tightly, trying to offer him some warmth and comfort. She rocked him, and hummed softly in his ear some tune from her childhood, until finally his shaking subsided, and he turned to look at her with troubled blue eyes.


“ Willow ,” he said so softly it sounded almost like a prayer, “I think you should go home, it was a mistake to bring you here.”


“What?” she asked in disbelief, visibly tensing.


“Your free to go, and I think you should.”


“You don’t want me.” She stated with defeat, pulling back from him.


“Of course I want you; any man would be daft not to want you.”


“You promised to never leave me. You said ‘always’! You said ‘forever’!” she continued as if she hadn’t heard him.


“I know I did luv, but this is not how I want things. I want you to be here because you want to be, not because I’m holding you prisoner.”


“But I do want to be here!” then added, noticing his look of doubt, “Honestly Spike, after all this time, you don’t think I could’ve escaped if I wanted to? Or did you forget that I was the smart Scooby?”


“So you want to be with me?” It was his turn to stare in disbelief.


“Of course I do” she replied, causing Spike to smile broadly before lowering his head to kiss her tenderly.


For the rest of the night he did all he could to make up for the way he had treated her in the alley. The hours of gentle lovemaking left the both of them exquisitely exhausted, and the ‘happy’ couple fell into a deep slumber, unaware and uncaring about the hardships tomorrow would bring.


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Part 7


Spike woke early the next day, and decided to let his minions sleep in. He wanted to do something special for Willow , who was still fast asleep, exhausted from the previous evening. He sat for a few moments and simply watched her dozing. She was like some sort of dark miracle. She had chosen him, he had given her the chance to go, and she had chosen to stay. He brushed a stray coppery lock out of her face, and thought of all the ways he could spend eternity pleasing her. He sighed, not wanting to leave her, even for a moment, but there were things to be done, so he slipped out of bed and quietly dressed before heading downstairs.


He had to call nine places before he found a grocery store that was willing to deliver. He ordered several types of fresh fruit, yogurt, and a bunch of other health food that Willow was always saying they should get. Meal times had been a bit hard for her, because she wasn’t allowed to go out before, and the florescent lights of the grocery stores could be a bit painful for a vampire’s superior vision, so grocery shopping was basically out. Instead the poor girl had been forced to live entirely on take-out and whatever was left in the house from when the owners had still been alive. In fact, Spike had always kinda gotten a kick out of how the chit would always order everything vegetarian, despite how many pints of his blood she drained during sex. He half wondered if she would only want to eat health nuts after she was turned, they may even have to move back to California to accommodate her feeding habits he thought with a smirk. Then another thought occurred to him, maybe it was time to turn her.


Spike had no doubts about her devotion, actually he knew from the first time she had bit him, there would be a pull between them. In the vampire world, blood was everything. It was more than life-sustaining, it was life-giving, it was power, and also a way to form bonds between vampires. Spike had tried to explain this bond to Willow once when she asked him how minions were made. With her inquisitive mind, she must have asked him a dozen questions on the subject, but in the end she still had trouble understanding the pull of a master’s blood.


He had explained that a minion was different than a childe because when making minions, a master only gives a few drops of his blood. The result is a weaker vampire, not just physically, but mentally as well. The blood is what reanimates their body after they die, without the proper amount, many of their higher brain functions do not reanimate. The result is a stupid, but often loyal and easy to control vampire, a minion. A childe however, is someone you’re hoping to have with you for awhile, possibly forever, so it is necessary to give them quite a bit more of your blood so that they will be strong enough to be worthy of your time and training.


It was true that Spike could have simply made Willow into a minion, it certainly would have been easier, but he wanted a mate, someone who could challenge him intellectually, plus as a minion she would’ve no longer had the capacity for magic. She had understood these basic concepts, but when he tried to explain the call of blood between a sire and their childe, she seemed a bit lost, or perhaps simply in denial of the feeling she was surely already having.


It was rare for a vampire to allow a human to feed from them, except when they were being turned. However, it was also rare for a vampire to bother trying to train a mortal before turning them either. Both were much more common in the old days, before Spike’s time. Back then childer were chosen with great care, they were trained for months, and fed their future sire’s blood daily, until they were finally turned. Such were the vampires of the old order, the most powerful and beautiful that ever were, like royalty of sorts. But nowadays, everything had gone to hell, minions were allowed to turn other minions, creating stupider, weaker minions, and thanks to the slayers, too few of the old ones were left to take control back. Chances were that in a few thousand years most vampires would be too weak to survive.


In any case, Spike was somewhere in the middle himself. He was borne of the house of Aurelias. The master of this house, one of the last ‘true’ masters, had been killed by Buffy a few years before, which was fine by him. He had once called Spike a half breed because Darla, his grand-sire, was a true vampire, but his sire Angelus was nothing more than a mistake; untrained, uncouth, and unwilling to show loyalty to anyone. But despite what the master may have thought about Angelus, his blood was strong, and he made sure to feed Spike enough to make him strong as well. As for training, Spike received plenty of it once he was turned, even if he fought it.


Willow was something special though. She was being trained in the old way. Chosen for her beauty, intelligence, and talent, and fed almost daily from her future sire. Once she was turned she would be a powerful vampiress. Plus the blood shared between the two of them would create an almost unbreakable link between them. She would still have her own free will, but they would be connected in a way that was almost primal. It was impossible for him to explain to her, but he knew that she was feeling it already.


In truth she was ready to be turned, she had been for some time, but still he wanted to wait a little. It would have to be done eventually, but the thought of her losing her warmth, and the ability to blush, made him sad. Yet the longer he waited the more likely the slayer was to show up. Part of him was surprised she hadn’t found them already. He hoped her and her little mates had given Willow up for dead, but he doubted it. However, once she was turned they would be too late.


Yes, it should be soon, but he wanted the occasion to be a special one. After all they had been through together, he felt the event deserved a little ceremony, and then it stuck him. He had once read about an old vampire mating ritual that could only be done during a full moon, he had hoped Dru would want to ‘tie the knot’ with him. So he memorized the ceremony and made all the preparations, but when the time came, she said she couldn’t go through with it because Miss Edith wasn’t feeling well, and she needed to stay in to care for her. He had known that it was just an excuse, obviously. She didn’t want to be his mate, only his companion. Her heart belonged to Angelus, but she didn’t want to hurt Spike’s feelings, so instead she had given him what she thought was a believable story. But this time it would be different because Willow ’s heart belonged to him alone.


The more he thought about it, the more excited he became. He looked at the calendar hanging on the wall, the next full moon was in ten days, plenty of time for him to prepare. He would need some supplies, but he had already been planning to stop by a magic shop to get a present for Willow anyway, so that would be no problem. Yes, in ten more days, Willow would be his for eternity.


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Buffy sat on her bed, trying to hold back her tears. Over the last couple of months she had lost almost everything. First her best friend was kidnapped, and after all this time, was most likely dead. Then Faith had betrayed her, and she had been forced to kill her. And as if that wasn’t enough, Angel had left her too, moving to Los Angeles . Xander and Giles did their best to cheer her up, but they could offer her little consolation. She was overwhelmed with the feeling of loss and it was starting to effect her slaying. Two nights before she had nearly been killed by a fledgling. She needed to get her mind off things, maybe some training; that always made her feel better. As she sat there, lost in thought, the phone rang, pulling her back to reality.


“Hello”


“Buffy, I’m so glad you’re in. I need you to come over right away.”


“Giles? What is it? What’s wrong?”


“I’d rather not discuss it on the phone, it will take too much time. Please, just hurry,” and with that the line went dead.


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“Ok, I came as fast as I could. So, what’s the dire?” Buffy asked as she strolled through Giles’s door and plopped down on his couch.


She glanced around and noticed all the scoobies, or what was left of them, were in attendance, including Oz which came as something of a surprise. Once Willow was given up for dead, Oz had practically dropped off the planet, he had even quit the ‘Dingoes’. Buffy gave him a nod and a halfhearted smile, then did the same to Xander and Anya, who were too busy groping each other to notice.


“Well, I was hoping to wait until Angel had arrived,” Giles started, putting a hand up to silence Buffy as she went to interrupt. “I asked him to come, because we will need him for this, but since it will take a few hours for him to get here, he asked me to start with out him.” Giles paused then, expecting to be bombarded with questions, but instead all he got was silent stares, so he continued.


“I received a call last night from a man in Massachusetts , Salem to be specific. He believes that Spike was in his store yesterday evening, and was calling to alert us.”


“Oh not this again!” Anya said in exasperation.


“Anya, please,” Xander admonished.


“No, I’m not going through this again,” Anya continued to protest, “First you all get your hopes up that you’ve found Willow, and then it all turns out to be nothing. Last time Xander was too depressed to have sex for more than a week.”


“Anya!” Xander yelled, turning red before Giles took the conversation back under control.


“I’ll admit, there have been a few false leads, more even than you know. But this time I believe it is the real thing. The man I spoke to on the phone is somewhat of an expert on the occult. He knows a great deal about vampires, and he told me that someone matching Spike’s description was in yesterday buying a few spell books, but he also bought supplies which the proprietor believes are for an archaic vampire mating ritual.” As he spoke, Giles began pacing back and forth, cleaning his glasses compulsively.


“What are you trying to say, that Willow has already been turned?” Buffy asked stiffly. She hated to admit that she agreed with Xander’s demon playmate, but Anya was right, she had gotten her hopes up before, only to have them crushed. She wasn’t sure she could take it again.


“No, on the contrary, I believe she is still mortal. The man I spoke to, a fellow by the name of Mortensen, gave me a list of everything he had bought. The spell books must have been for Willow , because they were for an early practitioner. I can only assume that either Spike already has a copy of the text with the ritual in it, or perhaps he is working from memory, but from the ingredients he has purchased I’ve been able to deduce that it must be one of two ceremonies. Yet when one also considers that he purchased a star chart, most likely to track the path of the moon, that can leave only one possibility, the ritual of Lubov.” Giles finished his confusing ramble somewhat triumphantly.


“What?! That’s crazy. No self respecting vampire would use that ritual,” Anya said dismissively.


“I quite assure you, it is the most logical deduction, given the facts,” Giles said, somewhat put out.


“Yeah, but that ritual would completely bind them, if one of them died, the other would too, plus it would lower his status, making himself more vulnerable like that. From what I’ve heard about this Spike character, he’s way too smart to take that kind of risk.”


“I disagree, Spike has always been rather a romantic of sorts, I believe it is completely in his nature to risk not only status but also his life for his mate,” Giles argued back.


“Well, then he’s not much of a demon, is he? Then again, most humans aren’t that romantic either,” Anya said, giving Xander a pointed stare.


“Look, will you two stop fighting and someone explain what this ritual of goulash is!” Xander exclaimed, wanting to take the focus off of him.


“Ritual of Lubov. It’s a mating ceremony for vampires. It can only be performed during a full moon, which gives us a little time, but I’m afraid not much. The ritual is done outside, and involves rather complicated incantations as well as some other things. Then when the moon is at its highest point, the vampire claims their mate by draining them to near death, and then feeding them an unusually large amount of their own blood. As Anya pointed out, this creates an exceptionally strong tie between the sire and their new child, making them more vulnerable in some ways, but more powerful in others.” As Giles finished he looked around to see that Buffy, Xander, and Oz had suddenly gone very pale.


“Look, I know it’s a lot to take in,” he continued, “but we have a great deal of work to do, and not much time. The full moon is in only nine days, so I suggest we get started,” and with that the Anya, Xander, and Oz went to work, pouring over the texts, trying to learn as much as they could about the ritual, while Giles and Buffy worked on her training to help prepare her for any fighting that was to come.


When Angel, Cordelia, and Doyle arrived a few hours later, they were all still hard at work. Angel introduced Doyle to everyone, and talked privately with Buffy for a few minutes to make sure she was alright with the two of them working together. The truth was, as hard as it may be to be around the man she loved knowing they couldn’t be together, she was still glad he was there. If this all turned out to be just another false lead, having Angel there would give her some comfort, and if they really had found Spike and Willow , they would need Angel to help them fight.


By morning, the group had a game plan. They would drive up in two cars to Salem , stop the ceremony, kill Spike, and save Willow . It sounded simple enough, but they all knew it wouldn’t be. Timing would be everything. They didn’t know where Spike was keeping Willow , and it would take far too long to find out. Their best hope was to figure out where the ceremony would be, and stop it before Willow was killed.


They had spent half their time researching the history of Salem , trying to learn the location. The ritual had to be performed on unholy ground, which could mean a place where a great injustice had taken place, a place of great hatred, or a place of death and violence. With these requirements, in Salem the home of the infamous witch trials, it could be almost the whole damn town. But after a great deal of work, they were finally able to narrow it down to one of three most likely places; the site of the original courthouse where the trials had taken place, the jail where accused witches were held and often died, or the site where the convicted witches were hung.


Driving non-stop, it would take the group just over three days to get there, which would give them a little time to locate these places, and possibly even figure out where Willow was being held, but they would have to be discreet. If Spike got wind that they were in town, he would most likely take Willow and run, or possibly just kill her on the spot. This operation required finesse, a word that half the group had little understanding of. Needless to say; Buffy, Xander, and Anya would all have to be kept on a short leash. At least Cordelia, would be staying behind in Sunnydale, to baby-sit Oz during the full moon. With any luck they would all be back soon, with Willow safe and sound.


@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@


Willow was having trouble keeping the grin off her face. Spike had woken her with breakfast in bed. She had been exhausted the night before, and had slept well past sunset. By the time she woke, she was completely famished, and thought she had died and gone to heaven when she saw what Spike had for her.


He brought her homemade fruit salad, yogurt, granola, and tofu. All of which she had been recently craving. The funny part though was the tofu. Spike had never tried it before, and when he did, he thought it had gone bad because it was all white and had no taste, so he threw it out. He tossed out three of the five cartons he ordered before he decided that it was supposed to be that way, and that Willow simply had no taste. He then brought an entire carton to her along with everything else, cut into slices. When he told her what happened she burst out laughing before explaining that it was generally cooked with other things. But for now, she simply mixed some in with her fruit salad, along with some yogurt and granola. Together it was delicious, but with every bite she took, Spike pulled a face like someone had stuck a lemon in his mouth, and shook his head like she was crazy.


When she was almost finished, Spike went in and ran a bubble bath for her. She wasn’t sure what she had done to deserve so much pampering, but whatever it was, she hoped she did it again. Their bath was luxurious, especially when they turned the spa bubbles on. Boy, rich people sure knew how to live. Spike gently washed her hair, and body with her favorite cinnamon soap, and then drained the tub before patting her dry with a fresh towel. When they came back into the bedroom, she saw a brightly wrapped package sitting on the bed for her.


She glanced at Spike, who grinned back sheepishly, before telling her to open it. Inside she found a black satin evening gown, along with a pair of long white satin gloves. All it needed was shoes. She looked back at Spike inquisitively, to see him holding another box out to her, undoubtedly the shoes.


“What’s all this about?” she asked, dying of curiosity.


“You’ll find out soon enough pet, I’ll meet you downstairs in thirty minutes,” and with that he tucked his towel a little tighter around his waist and headed out of the bedroom to dress down the hall in George’s room.


@@@@@@@@


Spike liked George. He was the last minion he had turned. After meeting in a nearby pub, and discovering that not only did they have the same taste in music, but that he was also a carpenter, Spike figured he would make a nice addition to the family. He had even given him a larger dose of his blood so he would be a bit stronger and smarter than the rest. It had worked out well, George became his second in command, and ran things around the house when Spike was too busy with Willow . At the moment, George was showing his usefulness again, by helping Spike tie his tie.


“Stupid bloody necktie! It’s only been fifty years since I’ve worn one, you’d think I’d remember how the sodden thing goes on!” Spike howled with frustration. George who didn’t say much, another plus in Spike’s book, simply smiled and tied it for him.


“You look good,” he said evenly, hoping his calmness would rub off on his master, who was obviously a nervous wreck.


“Of course I do, I’m a good looking fellow,” Spike responded with false smugness.


“She’s going to say yes.” George continued.


“She better say yes, or I’ll rip her bloody tongue out.”


“No you won’t, and she ‘will’ say yes.” Normally Spike would never tolerate a minion contradicting him, but in this case he was too busy worrying about the evening ahead of him, and besides he liked George.


Once he was dressed, Spike went downstairs to pace the living room while he waited for Willow . When she finally appeared at the top of the stairs, he was grateful he didn’t need to breathe, because at that moment she was so beautiful she could take any man’s breath away.


The dress fit her like a glove. It was a sleeveless number, with a high neckline, but plunging low in the back. She had worn her hair swept up, emphasizing her slender throat, which bore his fresh bite mark. She was gorgeous, and she was all his.


“You look amazing,” he said with reverence.


“So do you,” she replied, taking in his black suit, with black silk shirt, and surprise, surprise, a black tie with just a splash of blue across it. “As always, black is definitely your color.”


“You too pet, but I think something is missing.” He said, pulling out a velvet box, “I know it’s nothing fancy, but they made me think of you.”


As he said this, he opened the box to reveal a double string pearl choker. Willow let out a small gasp as she ran her fingers across the necklace. She had never seen anything so beautiful. She looked up into his eyes, and started to cry.


“Bloody hell, I knew I should’ve gotten something else. It’s just that they looked so elegant, like you, that I thought maybe you’d like them. I’m sorry baby, please don’t cry, I’ll take them back and get you something else.”


“No please, I love them! It’s just no one’s ever treated me like this before. I mean the dress, the shoes, breakfast in bed, and now this, thank you!” and with that she threw her arms around him with such force that she almost knocked the pair of them over.


“You’re welcome pet. Here, let me put them on you,” he said with relief, “Now if you’re ready, I believe the limo is waiting.”


The rest of the evening was perfect. Spike had taken her to a concert being held in the Salem Commons. It was a warm, but comfortable, Summer evening, the stars were shining above, and beautiful music filled the air. They danced, and drank champagne, and pretended they were the only two people alive, or undead in Spike’s case. Some of the others at the concert pointed and stared, at the over dressed couple, dancing alone under a tree, but Spike and Willow didn’t care, for them everything was magical.


After the concert they took a drive by the beach, where Spike had a boat waiting to take them out onto the water. Once they were out from shore a ways, they were able to see the whole harbor, with all its lights, and Willow couldn’t help but think that her night couldn’t get any better. Then, seemingly from nowhere, Spike produced another gift.


“Spike, I can’t, you’ve given me too much already,” she protested.


“This is just the beginning luv. Now open it.” Willow did as she was told and found two beautiful old spell books.


“I’ve never had any of my own before, I always had to sneak spells out of Giles’s books, thank you,” she said as tears sprung up in her eyes again.


“One day you’re going to be very powerful pet, and when that day comes, I want to be there to share it with you. This is just the first step, the books I mean. It will help you to study them, but I want to do more, give you more.” Spike summoned all his courage to finish what he wanted to say, “I want you to be my mate Willow , not just my childe or companion, I want you to be with me, forever. Willow , will you join with me?”


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Part 8


Willow tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position to lie in. All day she had been like this, unable to sleep. She simply had too much on her mind. Tonight when the moon was at its height, she would become Spike’s mate. She knew she was ready, it was what she wanted, but inside there was a little nagging sense of doubt, well fear really. She was afraid of what it would mean to lose her soul, and where that illusive part of her would go once she was turned. Would her soul go to hell? And if it did, would there be any part of her left, or would she simply become a demon wearing a Willow suit? It was odd, because her true fear was not that her soul would be sent to hell for willingly giving herself over to a demon, but rather that the fundamental part of herself which made her who she was would be gone, and she would never be with Spike again. She would be alone. Willow rolled over again, grabbing her pillow and punching it several times to get it into a comfortable shape.


“What did that poor defenseless pillow ever do to you luv?”


“Spike, I thought you were asleep.”


“The way you’re rolling about you could wake the dead.”


“You are dead.”


“See what I mean,” he said cracking a grin, then noticing how distraught she was, he asked, “What is it baby? You’re not getting cold feet about tonight are you?”


“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” She responded softly, causing Spike to sit up and stare at her uncomfortably.


“You don’t want to be my mate,” he said through clenched teeth.


“No! I mean yes! Of course I want to be your mate,” she tried to reassure him.


“Then what’s the problem?”


“My soul.”


“What about it?”


“Where will it go?”


“To be honest pet, I have no idea. Why do you ask?” he didn’t like the direction this was going. Souls were not to be trusted; all they ever did was cause trouble, just look at his poof of a sire.


“It’s just that, what if my soul is the same as my consciousness, and without it we won’t be together anymore.”


“You lost me luv, are you saying you don’t want to be unconscious?”


“No, what I’m trying to say is, what if my soul is what makes me, you know…ummm…love you…and without it, that feeling, that part of me, won’t be with you anymore.”


As she said this she kept her eyes fixed on her hands. She had never said those words to anyone before, with the exception of her parents, and they had essentially abandoned her afterward. In the past she had felt that she was in love with Xander and Oz too, but she had never said it to them. Then again, she had never felt this strongly before. Her emotions for Spike were so strong that she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to go on without him. Her feelings were overwhelming, and they terrified her, but more frightening was the thought of losing them all together.


Spike could barely contain the flood of emotion that was running through him. She loved him, ‘loved’ him. She had said it herself. He had been waiting for what seemed like an eternity to hear those words from her. Spike of course had been in love with her all along, but after the thorough wringing Dru had put his heart through, he was afraid to be the first to admit it. The whole situation had left him feeling like some kind of teenager, in love for the first time. He reached out and pulled her tight against him, looking deep into her eyes.


“Willow, I wish I had all the answers for you, but I don’t,” he saw her tense up, and continued, “I ‘think’ that your soul is just the part of you that tells you the difference between what is right and wrong, the part that makes you feel guilty when you’ve been bad, so to speak. I don’t think it’s where your love comes from.”


“…but how do you know?”


“Because ‘I love you’, and I haven’t had a soul since before you were born.” As he said this he continued to look into her eyes wanting her to see that he was sincere.


“Ok then, if you tell me that everything will be alright, I’ll believe you,” she said, reaching her hand up and gently stroking his chiseled jaw line.


“I promise, everything will be alright. After tonight, it will be you and me, together for eternity,” he assured her, leaning down to plant a soft wet kiss upon her receptive lips.


She tangled her fingers in his short blonde tufts, pulling him closer for a deeper kiss, thoroughly exploring his mouth with her eager tongue. She wanted to lose herself in him completely, and forget all about what the coming night would bring. She lightly traced her fingers down his chest, pausing to give his nipple a firm pinch and was rewarded by the feeling of his cock bobbing against her stomach.


Spike rolled the two of them over, propping himself up on one elbow so he could kiss his way down her throat, running his tongue across the spot where she carried his mark, like a curved X where the two bites overlapped. He ran his free hand to her nipple to pinch her back. She gasped and reached her own hand beneath the covers to stroke his rock hard member, while he continued to kiss his way down her body. When his lips found her nipple and he gave it a gentle bite and she cried out, unable to control herself. His cold body against her hot one was like fire and ice, and he knew exactly what to do to make her lose all control. He made her feel vulnerable but powerful, and above all he made her feel alive. Her skin was singing with a million little tingles, as he gently pulled her hand away from his cock so he could slide himself down to her womanhood.


He paused before her opening, taking in the scent that was Willow ; she was spicy, cinnamon, clove, together with the heady scent of her arousal, it was intoxicating. He slowly separated her folds with one finger, causing her hips to buck up in anticipation. He smiled to himself, she was always so eager for him, perfectly passionate, she gave herself to him with total abandon. He lowered his mouth to her center, delving his tongue deep into her flowing juices. Willow cried out again, and grabbed him by the ears, trying to pull his tongue deeper into her.


Spike gently but firmly removed her hands before she pulled his ears off. He remembered a time a little over a month ago when she had pulled out two large handfuls of his hair the same way, luckily it had grown back, but he was unwilling to take the same chance with his ears. He placed her legs over his shoulders, delving his tongue deeper inside her before moving his assault on to her clit. He sucked it into his mouth, making her squeal again, bucking her hips wildly, as he drove her toward her release. She alternated between pants and loud moans as he continued to suck and gently bite the small nub , while pumping two fingers in and out of her sopping wet core. He felt her muscles begin to clamp around his fingers, as her orgasm ripped through her body, causing her to arch off the bed screaming and clawing at the sheets, pulling them loose. Spike lapped at her juices, which were now coating his face, before climbing back up her body and pausing long enough to kiss her deeply so she could taste her own release.


Just as she was starting to catch her breath, he slammed his aching cock into her still twitching center, all the way to the hilt. It was his turn to cry out. Her heat drove him insane, and at times made it nearly impossible for him not to cum the moment he touched her. He continued to ram his cock into her with all the force he could muster, knowing it would bring her to climax as quickly as it would himself. He pounded her and pounded her, and just when he thought he wasn’t going to be able to hold on any longer, Willow cried out again, clawing at his back, leaving long bloody trails. He felt her muscles contract around his cock as she went over the edge, and then felt his balls tighten as he was pulled over the edge after her, spilling his dead seed deep within her.


When it was over he collapsed on top of her. He had learned long ago that his weight wasn’t too much for her to bear, in fact she seemed to relish this moment when they were both sated, their bodies still joined as they lay together in their exhaustion. In truth he loved it as well, but eventually he did have to move. Reluctantly he rolled off of her, but then pulled her half onto him, not wanting to give up the close contact. He looked down to see her tugging on her bottom lip. It was a nervous habit, and one she only did when she was seriously upset about something. He knew she was still afraid of what would happen to her when she was turned. He sighed heavily, and then morphed into his demon form, biting deeply into his wrist. As the blood began to flow freely from his wound, he offered it to her and she took it hungrily, craving the narcotic effect his blood seemed to have over her. As she drank deeply from him, she felt her muscles start to relax and a calm languor seemed to take her as she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.


As Spike watched her doze off, he thought about the coming night He needed it to be perfect. All the preparations had been made. He had turned another dozen minions over the last week, to ensure their security. He had even found the perfect place for the ceremony to be held. He closed his eyes, and tried to will himself to sleep. They had a long night ahead of them and he would need his rest, now if only he could fall asleep. Who knew insomnia was contagious.


@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@


“I can’t just sit around waiting anymore!” Buffy exclaimed as she paced the cramped motel room.


“Buffy, I know it’s hard, but we don’t really have much choice. We must wait until tonight to stop the ceremony,” Giles said from where he was sitting in the corner, making new stakes with Angel.


They had been hard at work for almost a week, trying to discover the location of the ritual or where Willow was being held, and coming up with nothing on both counts. Their best plan was still to case all three locations they felt were most likely, and hope they got lucky. And to that end they had decided perhaps more weapons were the way to go. They already had a veritable arsenal of swords, axes, and cross bows, but they figured you could never have too many stakes. However, after spending the better part of the day sharpening pointy sticks, Xander and Anya had finally given up and decided that their time would be better spent napping, and Doyle had decided that his would be better spent drinking, but when Angel put the kibosh on that idea, he had reluctantly chosen the TV as his second option. Only Angel and Giles were left working as Buffy had decided her time would be better spent pacing and ranting.


Just then Xander let out a loud snort, and a sucking sound that made Angel think of what it would sound like to suck a Buick through your nose. He was going stir crazy spending night and day in this dive with the lot of them. The moron snored loud enough to shake the rafters, and his ‘girlfriend’, kept complaining about how they couldn’t get any privacy so they could have sex, and had even suggested that they simply try a little exhibitionism and screw in front of everyone. The result was a unanimous vote to kill the first person who removed their clothing, and Xander was forced to do something resembling a pro-wrestling take down to stop Anya from stripping anyway. And as if that weren’t enough, he’d had to spend the last nine days with Buffy, not being able to hold her, touch her, not even being able to talk to her. Sometimes he really hated his unlife. He rose suddenly, giving Xander a swift kick in the ass, abruptly rousing him from his slumber.


“Hey what was that for?!” Xander protested.


“You were snoring, ‘again’.” Angel responded curtly.


“Well excuse me dead boy, not all of us can simply stop breathing when we sleep.” Xander retorted.


“Will you two stop it,” Giles said suddenly, “The sun is going down.”


@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@


Willow was feeling a bit nervous as she watched the ring of chanting minions surrounding her and Spike. The ritual had just begun, and Spike had chosen his four brightest to help. Meanwhile the rest of the minion hoard was standing guard to prevent anyone from interrupting them. In less than an hour, the ritual would be complete, and the pair of them would be bound together for eternity. Spike lifted a bowl of herbs from the ground, handing it to Willow before slicing his hand over it with a long dagger. Willow watched as his blood fell into the bowl, looking almost black in the dim light of the moon. He was saying an incantation now. It sounded strange, and she absently wondered what language it was in. Surely it was an ancient demon tongue, with its long rolling syllables, it was quite beautiful really.


When Spike had finished he took the bowl from her, and with a look of longing in his eyes, handed her the dagger. She took it from him, and without hesitation, sliced her own hand over the bowl, watching her blood mix with his, as Spike began the next part of the incantation.


@@@@@@@@


“This is just great! The ritual should be done in less than an hour, and we can’t find them anywhere! We must be looking in the wrong place.” Buffy raged, unwilling to give up, but unsure where to look.


“I don’t understand, according to my research it really should be one of these three places.” Giles said with bewilderment.


“Well your research was wrong, now wasn’t it?” Anya said irritably, “I told you this whole thing was a stupid idea. No self respecting vampire would use that ritual, and now we’ve wasted more than a week, and Willow ’s probably long dead anyway.”


“Anya,” Xander said, his voice becoming hard, “Shut up!”


Anya glared daggers at Xander, but just as she was about to argue back with him, Doyle fell to the ground clutching his head and howling in pain. Angel, who recognized the signs of an oncoming vision, rushed to his side.


“What do you see?” Angel asked.


“Old buildings…Uhh abandoned…there’s a crappy pub between them…old garage across the street…Arrgghh…the ceremony…not much time…in an alley,” and with that Doyle fell silent, rocking back and forth, holding his head in his hands.


The group didn’t waste any time. They piled into their cars, helping Doyle, and headed off for the edge of town where they had seen some old abandoned buildings. Before long they had found the place they were looking for.


@@@@@@@@


Spike looked into Willow’s eyes and said, “I William choose you, Willow for my mate,” placing a finger into the mixture of herbs and blood, and drawing a crescent moon on her forehead, he then lifted the bowl to his lips, taking a long pull of the dark liquid, before handing it to Willow.


“I Willow choose you, William for my mate,” she said, taking the bowl from him and tracing a similar moon on his head before drinking the rest down.


Both of them felt a surge of power run through their bodies. The potion was starting to take effect already, merging their energies into one. All that was left was for Willow to die, so she could be reborn as Spike’s immortal lover. Spike couldn’t help but think how appropriate it was that she would die in an alley, just as he did, and Angelus before him. She watched then, in fascination as his face changed to that of his demon visage, and thought to herself how lucky she was that her death came in such a beautiful form. But just as Spike was lowering his mouth to her throat, a voice cried out over the chanting.


“ Willow ! Don’t worry! The cavalry is here!” Xander yelled out, launching an arrow from his cross bow into the vamp in front of him, reducing him to dust.


“Bloody hell!” Spike exclaimed in rage, grabbing Willow ’s hand and running down the alley in the opposite direction. He was all for fighting, in fact it was one of his favorite pastimes, but at that moment all he could think of was getting away somewhere safe with Willow . He thought they would make it too, the other end of the alley was just up ahead, and all the fighting was behind them, but then just as they reached their destination, Angel stepped out from around the corner, blocking their path.


“You should’ve had someone guarding both ends of the perimeter boy. When will you ever learn?” Angel said with a sneer.


“Get out of our way Angel.” Spike replied with a look of murder in his eyes.


“I can’t do that boy, Willow belongs at home with her friends, not with you.”


“My friends, hah! Some friends, they walk all over me, and don’t even notice when I get kidnapped. None of you ever gave a shit about me, only about what I could do for you. Now get out of our way!” Willow said forcefully, her words striking Angel like a blow. Where had their sweet little Willow gone?


When Angel didn’t move, Spike lunged for him, striking him hard across the face with a left hook. Angel staggered for a second before coming back with a roundhouse kick to Spike’s head. The two exchanged blows for several minutes, while the larger battle was taking place farther down the alley. Willow wanted to help Spike, but was unsure what to do. She hunted around the ground for a weapon, but saw nothing more than garbage. When she glanced back up she saw Angel tackle him to the ground with a stake heading straight for his heart. She screamed in panic, lunging in front of Spike, just in time for the stake to be plunged into her back, right below her left shoulder blade.


“Oh Jesus, Willow, what have I done.” Angel said in shock, pulling the stake out of her back and quickly covering her wound to slow her blood loss. Spike, just looked at her in horror. He couldn’t lose his princess, he just couldn’t!


“Spike, run,” she managed to whisper, as she attempted to push her body off of him.


“No, I’m not leaving you!”


“You have to. Go now, before Buffy comes, please.”


“No baby, not without you.”


“Spike,” Angel interrupted, looking into Spike’s hurt and terrified eyes and feeling pity for him suddenly, “Run boy.”


“Oh right, you stab my girl in the back, and now I’m supposed to just run away?” Spike said incredulously.


“Look, she doesn’t have much time, which means I have ‘no’ time to argue with you. Buffy’s already heading this way and if you stay here you’re going to end up dust. It’s obvious Willow loves you, so for her sake I’m giving you one chance. Run.” Angel said, giving him a pointed stare.


Spike looked again at the woman he loved, then lifting her up, he gave her a soft kiss, whispering in her ear, “I’ll come for you, I swear,” then handed her over to Angel, who lifted her easily.


“If she dies, so does everyone you love, ‘everyone’,” Spike said. Then with one last look at his precious redhead, he ran off into the night.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Part 9


Willow was falling, and fast. She stretched her arms out into the blackness to try to grab onto something, anything, but finding nothing. Panic filled her heart. She began screaming. She was alone, alone with no one to help her. She started flailing her arms and legs and found walls close around her where previously there had been nothing. She was in a box, a coffin, trapped. Her screaming continued as she pounded on the lid, trying to break free. Suddenly the lid came open and she looked up to see Spike staring down at her. He had come for her, and her heart leapt with joy. He had kept his promise. But just as she reached up to him, he smiled cruelly and slammed the lid back down on her.


“Noooooo!!!” Willow screamed, bolting up in bed from the nightmare.


“Wills? Hey Will, it’s ok, you’re ok.” Xander said, rushing to his panicked friend, trying to calm her.


“Where am I?!” she asked, still filled with panic.


“You’re in the hospital. You got hurt. You’ve been out for like three days now.”


“Three days?” she asked softly, finally noticing her clinical surroundings and the I.V.’s running into her arms, then a fresh wave of dread filled her, “Where’s Spike?!”


“He’s gone Will. It’s ok, you’re safe now,” he said in a pacifying tone.


“Gone? Noooooo!!!” she screamed again, becoming hysterical and ripping tubes and monitoring equipment from her body, setting off the alarm in the nurse’s station.


“Help! I need help in here!” Xander yelled out as the I.V. tubes sprayed him with blood and saline. He tried holding her down, but she fought back hard, scratching, kicking, and biting at him.


“Will, please!” he pleaded, “You’re going to hurt yourself, you gotta stop!” as he said this, she landed a hard kick into his groin, and Xander rolled off of her and onto the floor.


Willow bolted for the door, determined to get away from this place, and find Spike, but as she reached for the doorknob, three nurses and a doctor came rushing in, thinking their patient had gone into cardiac arrest. What they found instead was their patient acting like a caged animal; wild, frightened, and dangerous. She took down two of the nurses with ease, and had made it back to the door, but when she opened it, Angel was standing on the other side. She tried to dodge past him, but he was too bulky, and simply grabbed her in a bear hug, pinning her arms to her sides as he carried her back over to the bed, where the doctor and the one remaining nurse were waiting with restraints to tie her down.


Once she was strapped down, they went about reattaching her monitors and I.V.’s. When they were finished the doctor told Angel that he would give her a mild sedative to help her relax. Angel thanked him, and apologized for her behavior, explaining that she had a phobia of hospitals in order to avoid having to tell him the truth. He then asked Xander to give him a few minutes alone with Willow, which he agreed to reluctantly, saying he would go find Buffy and the others and let them know what was happening.


As soon as Xander left, Angel approached her, sitting on the bed to get a better look. She was feverish, and shaking. Her pupils were dilated, and she was obviously delirious. ‘Damn it Spike!’ he thought to himself, Willow must have been drinking from him everyday for it to have gotten this bad. A vampire’s blood could be a powerfully addictive thing to a mortal, and Willow was clearly in withdrawal. He knew what he had to do. He morphed into his demon façade and bit into his wrist, then held it over her mouth, offering it to her.


The effect was immediate. She lifted her head as far off the bed as she could, trying to gain better contact, as she sucked greedily at the wound. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she began to make little mewling sounds at the pleasure and comfort his blood was offering her. Angel felt himself becoming hard from the experience. She was all pale creamy skin, with flushed cheeks, and shining red hair. And then there was the feeling of her hot little mouth sucking on his pulse point, it was no wonder why Spike would want a vixen like her. He was just surprised how he had never noticed what a beauty she was before. He used his free hand to readjust himself, knowing that when he was done here he would have to find a private place where he could jerk off to relieve his now painfully hard erection.


“What are you doing?! Get away from her!” Xander exclaimed as he came back in the room, followed closely by Buffy and Giles.


“Buffy, I know it looks bad, but I had to,” Angel said, jumping up suddenly, forgetting about his now obvious erection.


“You sick fuck! What were you doing to her?!” Xander continued to yell.


“I had to, she needed it,” Angel continued, trying to defend himself, looking to Buffy, hoping she would understand. What he got instead was a look of extreme hurt and betrayal.


“Save it,” she said coldly, “I can’t even look at you right now. Giles, will you please deal with this.” She waited long enough for Giles to give her a nod, and walked back out of the room.


“Xander, will you wait outside please, I need to have a word with Angel alone.” Giles asked, indicating the door, but Xander stalled.


“No way. I’m not leaving dead boy in here with Will, no way!”


“Xander, I quite assure you that I have the situation under control. Now please leave,” he said giving Xander a hard stare.


“Fine. But I’m going to be right outside if you need me,” Xander said somewhat defeated.


“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind,” Giles said as he left, then once they were alone he stalked purposely toward Angel with the look of ‘Ripper’ in his eyes. “So, now that we’re alone, do you mind telling me what the bloody hell you were doing just now?!”


“Giles I can explain,” Angel began, “Spike’s been feeding her his blood. It’s addictive, and going without it for the last three days has made her sick.”


“So you were just giving her a fix then,” he said coldly.


“I had to. It’s not safe to cut her off cold turkey like that. It could make her go insane, it could even kill her.”


Giles looked at the floor, trying to calm his temper. He knew Angel was telling the truth. Willow had all the signs of such an addiction. He had read about this sort of thing in the watcher diaries. It was rare, but not unheard of, and as much as he hated to admit it, Angel had done the right thing. He needed to redirect his anger back where it belonged, at Spike for doing this to Willow in the first place.


“Alright,” Giles said finally, “what happens now?”


“She needs to be weaned off. It will take a while, but I think I can get her off of it eventually.”


“So you plan to continue feeding her ‘your’ blood.”





“You have a better idea?”


“Well, perhaps we could find some other vampire, and drain them of their blood. It ‘would’ be poetic justice.”


“I wish it were that easy, but the blood needs to be fresh. It has to come directly from the vampire, and I don’t think the blood of some two bit minion is going to be strong enough anyway, not after feeding off of Spike for the last few months.”


“Well, it looks like we have little choice then. But there is one other concern,” Giles said.


“What’s that?”


“Your libido.”


“Excuse me?” Angel asked uncomfortably.


“I don’t think I need to explain myself. Your…err…’arousal’ was obvious when we came in.”


“Oh,” Angel said lamely, and was very grateful he was unable to blush.


“Look, it’s not that I don’t understand, ‘certain needs’ shall we say, I am a man after all, but I think we both know how potentially dangerous ‘your needs’ can be,” he finished, giving Angel a hard stare.


“I swear, I would never lay a hand on her,” Angel said solemnly.


“I’m sure you wouldn’t, but just to be on the safe side, you are not to be alone with her. Do I make myself clear?” Giles asked, pulling a stake from his coat pocket and twirling it around for Angel to see. Angel nodded and looked at the floor uncomfortably. “Well, she seems to be resting at the moment. Why don’t you have Doyle drive you back to the motel for now, the sun will be up soon,” Giles said, leading Angel out of the room, “and don’t worry, I’ll explain everything to Buffy and the others.


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Angel was floating in warm blackness. He was comfortable, happy, but inside of him was a hidden longing, a buried desire. Willow . As he thought of her he felt a tickling sensation moving feather light up his legs, like finger tips tracing minute patterns across his skin. He tried to see what was it was, but his eyes met only blackness.


The sensation continued higher up his naked flesh, until they came in contact with his growing erection. Angel let out a hiss of pleasure, suddenly catching a whiff of a familiar scent. It was spicy, cinnamon, with a hint of clove.


“ Willow ,” he managed to gasp, and as if that one word had cast a magic spell, suddenly she was there, pushing away the darkness until all he could see was her. Her glowing white skin and flaming red hair. She was a fire, consuming him, burning him with an exquisite flame.


She slid her hands up his shaft, running her thumb across his glistening tip. She then raised her hand to her mouth and licked away the drop of pre-cum that was left behind on her thumb. She moaned softly as she did this, and it occurred to Angel that he was in real trouble. Here was a goddess, from out of some dream, come to seduce his soul right out of him. But as he reached out to push away this beautiful naked girl that was straddling him, his hands betrayed him and pulled her closer instead. Let his soul be damned, he thought, as she raised her hips high, positioning herself with the head of his cock just touching her honeyed core.


“Do you want me?” she asked with a coquettish grin.


“Yesss,” he hissed back at her.


Without further hesitation she impaled herself on his rock hard shaft, causing both of them to cry out, overwhelmed by the sensation. She rode him hard, her head thrown back in ecstasy and her back bowed. Angel felt her fire burn hotter, scorching the soul within him, turning it to cinders, but still he couldn’t help himself, he couldn’t stop now. He arched himself up to capture one perfect rose tipped breast in his mouth, biting down roughly on her nipple. Willow cried out again, finding herself on the verge of her release. She tangled her fingers in his spiky hair, pulling his head away from her breast harshly so she could plant firm kiss on his lips, delving inside his cool cavern with her hot tongue. She then exposed his throat, and bit down hard, breaking his tender flesh with her blunt teeth. The feel of his blood filling her mouth finally sent her over the edge, her muscles clamping around his cock as she continued to ride him through her oblivion.


Angel roared, the demon in him finally taking over as he found his own release and was reborn as Angelus with a fiery vixen riding hard on his cock, his blood covering her lips. Blood. Her blood was calling to him. How long had it been since he had eaten a beautiful young girl he wondered, he couldn’t remember but he was sure it had been too long. As he thought this, his face changed to reveal his demon form, and he grabbed her by the hair, and bit savagely into ‘her’ throat. He expected her to scream, or perhaps fight, but instead she just moaned with pleasure and ground herself harder against him, nearing her second orgasm. He rolled the pair of them over, continuing to drink greedily from her as he pumped his cock into her over and over with bruising force.


Willow cried out as her second release ripped through her, while Angelus continued to pump away, concerned only with his own pleasure. He could feel her weakening as he further drained the life out of her. The knowledge of her rapidly approaching death was like a powerful aphrodisiac, driving him toward his climax. He felt her heartbeat come almost to a standstill, and reared his head back, letting out another loud roar as he came again, filling her with his dead seed.


He looked down then at the little redhead, his amber eyes staring into her half open green ones. She lifted one hand and ran it lightly across his brow ridge, and smiled.


“Thank you,” she said softly, her eyes closing, and her hand falling limply at her side. Angelus listened closely for the sound of her heartbeat, but heard nothing, she was gone. He bent his head down and kissed her, almost reverently.


“No, thank you darlin’,” he said with an evil grin.


@@@@@@@@


Angel bolted up in bed, shaking uncontrollably and feeling nauseous. It had been a dream, ‘just a dream’. He started to slide out of bed and was disgusted to discover that he had once again soiled his sheets. He sighed in frustration and headed into the bathroom to take a cold shower. Passing a half asleep Doyle along the way.


“Another dream?” Doyle mumbled.


“I don’t want to talk about it,” Angel replied tersely.


“Sure thing, wake me up if you change your mind. Oh, and there’s a bottle of whiskey in my coat pocket if your needin’ a little liquid comfort,” and with that Doyle rolled over and went back to sleep.


Angel let the ice cold water cascade over his body, giving him slight goose bumps. Generally vampires were impervious to fluctuating temperatures, but luckily freezing water still had some effect on his body. He stuck his head under the water, and tried to clear his thoughts.


The last three days had been sheer hell for him. He had been forced to visit Willow twice a day so she could feed from him, each time giving her slightly less of his blood. The plan was working, and she was starting to become rational again, but the effect on ‘him’ had certainly been less than positive. He kept having the same dream, over and over. It was beyond erotic, it was beyond sensual. She called to him, both his demon and his soul, he was falling for her. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything in his entire existence. He wanted to feel her hot flesh writhing below him, around him, and it was driving him insane.


True to his word, Angel had not allowed himself to be alone with her even once, and it was a good thing too, otherwise he would have already pounced on her. But everyday it was getting harder to control himself, and soon he doubted if even the threat of being staked by Buffy would be enough to deter him from ravaging that poor girl.


He tried again to collect himself. In less than an hour Giles would be expecting him at the hospital, and he needed to have it together. ‘Just two more weeks,’ he thought, ‘two more weeks and she’ll be back in Sunnydale and I’ll be in LA where I belong. Far away from her.’


@@@@@@@@


Angel arrived at the hospital, to the sound of arguing voices. As he neared Willow ’s room, the sound became louder, and he saw Xander standing just outside the door, staring daggers at the floor, and listening intently.


“Look Mr. Jeffries…”


“That’s ‘Giles’,” Giles said, clearly livid.


“Look Mr. ‘Giles’, I’m sure you mean well, but we are Willow’s parents, and I think we know what’s best for our daughter,” a tall redheaded woman resembling Willow said as Angel entered the room seeing five rather angry people standing near Willow’s bed.


“What’s going on?” Angel asked, looking over at Giles and Buffy.


“Who are you?” asked a short, slightly balding man, presumably Willow ’s father.


“I’m Angel; I’m a friend of Willow ’s.”


“That’s the one,” the doctor said with a disgusted tone, “My nurses have reason to believe he’s been giving your daughter some kind of drugs. One of them even thought she saw him feeding her his blood.”


“Don’t be absurd. If he was doing any such thing, one of us would have seen something,” Giles lied.


“Regardless, I would like you to leave Mr. Angel,” Ira Rosenberg said.


“I think you better go as well Mr. Giles, Bunny…”


“That’s ‘Buffy’,” Buffy said, unwilling to be given the brush off.


“…sorry, ‘Buffy’, this is a decision for Willow ’s ‘family’ to make. And while I appreciate that you all care for our daughter, I assure you that as clinical psychologists, both my husband and I feel confident that Willow needs to be somewhere where she can get help with her emotional problems.”


Just then, as if on cue, Willow sat up as far as her restraints would allow, and began calling out for Angel. He resisted going to her, not wanting to escalate the situation, but this only made Willow howl in fury.


“What are you waiting for?! I need you!” she screamed in rage, clearly unaware there was anyone else in the room, “My blood is burning! Help me, please!” and then she collapsed back on the bed, writhing in her discomfort, trying to pull free from her restraints.


“Out! Now!” the doctor said, ushering everyone but the Rosenberg ’s out of the room.


Once they were outside, with the door shut tight, they looked at each other, in bewildered confusion, unsure how to protect Willow from her own parents. Angel leaned against the wall near the door, holding his hand up to silence the others so he could better here the discussion going on inside the next room. Listening hard he was able to discern two phrases that chilled him to the bone; ‘psychiatric facility’ and ‘experimental procedures’. ‘Oh Christ’, he thought, what were those monsters planning on doing to her?


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Part 10


Patient log: Willow Marie Rosenberg Date: 08/04/99


Patient was admitted today by her parents, Ira and Sheila Rosenberg. Patient is seventeen years of age, and appears to show advanced signs of disassociation, perhaps derealization. Patient has been tested for narcotics at the request of her parents, but all test results came back negative, indicating that she is perhaps suffering from some sort of psychotic break instead.


At this time the patient seems to be in a constant delusionary state, fluctuating between despondency and extremely volatile moods, often with violent outbursts. She already has bitten several of the orderlies, and it was necessary to place her in five point restraints to prevent her from further harming herself or anyone else. It was also necessary to give her a heavy dose of Alprazolam to calm her.


At this time I am placing her on 6 mg of Haloperidol, three times daily to start, given the severity of her outbursts, and will monitor any necessary dosage changes from there.


Dick Scholten MD., Attending Physician


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“Miss Rosenberg? Miss Rosenberg, can you hear me?”


The world was spinning. Willow lifted her aching head, and looked out with bleary eyes. She couldn’t move her arms. Suddenly there was a bright light shining in her eyes.


“Well, pupils are responsive, which is a good sign. The medication must be wearing off. Miss Rosenberg my name is Dr. Scholten. I’m sorry you had to be restrained,” he said, referring to the straitjacket she had been placed in, “but when you were brought in, you were behaving quite violently, and I’m afraid it was a necessary precaution… Miss Rosenberg, can you hear me?”


“Wh…where am I?”


“You’re at the Marion Mental Health Center for Young Adults in Sioux City, Iowa.”


“Iowa, that’s where they grow potatoes, right?”


“No, that’s Idaho. How are you feeling?”


“I’m thirsty,” she said softly.


“Well I’ll have one of the nurses bring you in a glass of water soon.”


“How did I get here?”


“Your parents brought you in a few days ago. You’re mother and I are old friends.”


“My parents…my parents are here?”


“Well they’re gone now, they couldn’t stay of course. But Sheila assured me they would be in touch.”


“They left me here,” Willow said, hurt, but not surprised.


“Well your parents believe, and I concur, that you have a rather serious form of a dissociative disorder, known as derealization. I’m a specialist in the field, so naturally they contacted me.”


“You think I’m crazy?...... Maybe I am crazy,” she mumbled, shaking her head, trying to clear her thoughts.


“Well I prefer not to use that term. You’re ‘sick’, and you’re parents brought you here so you could get better. Now many therapists would choose to tip toe around the subject of a patient’s disorder, for fear of upsetting them. But I believe a head on approach is much more productive. So, I’m just going to ask you a few questions now to get things started, alright?” he said, not waiting for a response, “Now, when your parents gave me your history, they said you had run away two weeks ago


.” “I was ‘kidnapped’, ‘three months ago’,” Willow said with no small amount of hostility.


“I see, ‘kidnapped’ huh?” he said in a pacifying tone while jotting something down in the file he was holding, “Well, lets get back to that. Your mother said she found several books on witchcraft and the occult in your room? Are you a practitioner of the occult?”


“I want to go home.”


“I’m sure you do, but first you need to get well. Now to do that, we need to open up a dialogue so we can discuss how such fantasies as magic and imaginary kidnappers, only keep you sick.”


“I didn’t imagine it, it was real.”


“Surely Miss Rosenberg you don’t expect me to believe that you have been missing for three months and your parents only just realized two weeks ago that you were gone?”


Willow gave a jaded laugh, “No, I guess that would be hard to believe,” she said coldly, “Can you get me out of this fucking straitjacket now, please?”


“If you prove you can behave yourself until tomorrow, I’ll have it removed then. Now, about these witchcraft books…”


It went on like this for some time, until Willow finally refused to speak at all. She couldn’t believe her parents had done this to her. Wasn’t it bad enough that they ignored her and neglected her, but now they had locked her up too? Dr. Scholten finally gave up his interrogation and left. A few minutes later a nurse came in to administer her medication, and finally gave her a drink of water. She wanted the water, but felt pretty sure she didn’t want the pills.


“What are these?” she asked her burly male nurse.


“Anti-psychotics. They might make you sleepy, but don’t worry; we’ll have your dinner to you before they take full effect. We wouldn’t want you to choke after all,” he said with a somewhat sinister smile.


“I don’t want them.”


“Well, you ‘could’ refuse, but that would just mean getting a shot instead, so I suggest you take the pills.”


‘Well,’ she thought as she forced them down, ‘I can tell I’m really going to enjoy my stay here.’


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Patient log: Willow Marie Rosenberg Date: 08/30/99


Patient had to be placed in the Quiet Room again today. Although she does seem to be responding to the Haloperidol, I’m hesitant to increase her dosage any further for fear of possible neuromuscular side effects. Instead I will maintain her current dosage, and continue with the physical restraints and Alprazolam for any violent outbursts.


The cause of today’s incident was again the discussion of her fictitious kidnapping. She has been quite persistent with this delusion, insisting that this event had actually taken place, and even went so far as to threaten me that her ‘kidnapper’, a person she refers to only as ‘Spike’, will come for her, and I believe her exact words were that he would “disembowel my entire staff”. I pointed out to her the obvious holes in this delusion, namely that she had only been missing two weeks according to her parents, and that if she had in fact been kidnapped, how had she escaped, and why would she want to go back?


However, she defended her irrational thinking, explaining that her ‘friends’ had rescued her. As for why she would want her captor to return for her, she explained that they were ‘bound by blood,’ and said in her defense that this sort of thing had happened before, citing the incident with ‘Sharon Tate’. I of course corrected her obvious blunder, informing her that it was in fact Patricia Hearst who was famous for sympathizing with her captors, and assured her that she showed no known signs of Stockholm Syndrome. At this point she became extremely agitated, again trying to bite me, and had to be restrained.


I have contacted my colleague Dr. Mathers, who is an expert on disorders involving cult behavior, about her apparent fetish for biting and her reference to having a ‘blood bond’ with her imaginary captor. I will continue the Haloperidol at 20 mg, three times daily, and 15 mg of Librium at night for her insomnia.


Dick Scholten MD., Attending Physician


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“Ok, tell me again what I’m supposed to be doing?” Willow asked annoyed.


“It’s art therapy,” said Cheryl, a short dumpy woman coved in clay flecks, “I want you to use the clay to express how you are feeling.”


“Well then I’m already done, because my pot looks stupid, and I ‘feel’ stupid.”


“Well, you can refuse to participate in your therapy if you wish, but that would mean going back in the Quiet Room,” Cheryl said, giving Willow a serious, but not unkind look.


Willow shuddered. The Quiet Room was where they put patients to ‘calm down’, in other words to punish them. It was called the quiet room, because the padding on the walls and floor muffled the sound, so no one had to listen to your screaming. But it really should have been called the ‘cold’ room, because at some point in the past a patient had broken the thermostat for this room, and it had never been fixed, leaving it about fifty degrees in there. Willow had spent the better part of the last three weeks in this room, lying on the floor so she could look out the one tiny window, all way up by the ceiling, and see the sky. She did not want to go back in there, so she reached across the table, grabbing a large lump of clay and started over on her pot.


After three weeks of fighting the system, and insisting that these ‘doctors’ had no idea what they were talking about, she finally wised up and figured out that the only way she was ever going to get out of here was if she started jumping through their hoops. She kept hoping that Spike would find her, rescue her, but she doubted that even Buffy or Giles knew where she was, so there was little hope of ‘Spike’ finding her.


She sighed as she thought of him, feeling the clay sliding between her fingers as she increased the speed on the potter’s wheel. Scenes from the movie ‘Ghost’ started to play through her head, this time staring her and Spike. His fingers on hers, molding the clay, feeling its slippery texture. Lost in thought, she pressed down harder on the foot pedal, making the wheel go even faster. The clay felt ‘amazing’, she closed her eyes and she could almost smell him; whiskey, cigarettes, and leather. She smiled, not realizing the wheel was now at full speed as her ‘pot’, now reduced the nothing more than a lopsided lump of clay, went flying off the wheel, hitting Cheryl in the chest hard before falling to the floor with a wet thump.


“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! Please don’t send me to the Quiet Room! It was an accident, I swear!” Willow pleaded, expecting Cheryl to be furious, but instead she simply picked up the clay, trying hard not to laugh.


“It’s ok, I know it was an accident,” she said with a smile, “You were just expressing your emotions and got a little carried away is all.” It was Willow’s turn to laugh then, and it felt good. “I think that is the first time I’ve heard so much as a giggle out of you since you got here. You should do it more often, it’s good for the soul. So do you want to tell me what you were thinking about when your pottery suddenly became performance art?”


“Not really,” Willow said, shaking her head and blushing furiously.


“Ok, but just answer me this, blonde or brunette?” she asked with a sly wink.


“Bleach blonde,” Willow answered, looking at the ground and blushing again.


“Thought so, ever since that movie ‘Ghost’ came out, I always picture ‘Harrison Ford’ every time ‘I’ work on the wheel, so don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Now why don’t you get cleaned up, it’s almost time for dinner.”


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Patient log: Willow Marie Rosenberg Date: 02/04/00


Patient had her six month review today, and I believe she has made remarkable progress. As previously noted in her patient logs, she has completely given up all delusions of having been kidnapped, realizing that her ‘captor’ was really just a manifestation of her desire to maintain a mature, sexual relationship. However, when she experienced conflicting feelings of guilt and shame, typical of this transition into adulthood, the patient was unable to reconcile these feelings and suffered a temporary psychotic break. However, she has now apparently resolved this conflict.


As for her dabbling in the occult, it seems this was simply part of a typical experimentation with different belief systems, quite common of this age group. Once she was able to think more rationally about the subject, she could see the destructive nature of such fantasies as magic.


I would still like to keep her for another six weeks of observation, to verify, that these changes are permanent, but I feel that if she continues to do well she will be ready for release at the end of this time period. Until then, I am decreasing her dosage of Haloperidol to 4 mg three times daily, and will continue the 15 mg of Librium at night for her insomnia.


Dick Scholten MD., Attending Physician


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Willow was in a great mood. She had art therapy today, and couldn’t wait to tell Cheryl that in exactly one week her parents were coming to take her home! She was so happy, and nothing could ruin her mood. One more week and she would be free, and better still, she would be able to see Spike again. Xander had let slip a couple of months ago that he was back in Sunnydale. He hadn’t meant to tell her, and when she asked about him, Xander wouldn’t say much except that Spike had been helping Buffy for some reason. He refused to say why, but Willow knew that if he was hanging around Sunnydale, he must be waiting for her. He was just being nice to Buffy because it was part of some master plan. She was sure of it. She happily whistled ‘Anarchy in the UK’ as she walked to the art studio. Everything was finally turning around for her.


Willow lay in bed trying to sleep. The orderly was late with her sleeping pills, but she was content to try to sleep without them. She hated all the medication she had to take, and was relieved when Dr. Scholten told her he was lowering her dosage on her anti-psychotics. Maybe if she pretended to be asleep when the orderly finally came, he would just leave her be and not make her take the pills. Just then she heard her door start to open, and shut her eyes, hoping he would simply close it again. She laid like that for what seemed an eternity, but still he hadn’t woken her, and he hadn’t left either.


She sensed him moving closer to the bed, watching her. ‘Great,’ she thought, ‘he’s going to make me take the stupid pills anyway.’ But then she felt a hand stoke her hair gently. She opened her eyes to see John, the new night orderly, staring down at her in lust.


“What are you doing?” she said, trying to push his hand away.


Suddenly he was on her before she had time to think or react, pinning her tiny frame to her hospital bed. As he used his left shoulder to hold her upper body in place, he reached out for the restraint straps hanging from her guard rails and strapped first one and then the other hand in place. Willow struggled, kicking and yelling, as he quickly reached up her nightgown and pulled off her panties, shoving them in her mouth to shut her up. Then he strapped her legs down in the same fashion as her arms.


Once he was finished he stood and admired his handiwork as he divested himself of his clothing. Willow continued to struggle, but it was hopeless. John was the only staff member who would be working on her wing, so there was no one to help her, and it was impossible to break the restraint straps, she had tried countless times in the past to no avail. She could see John staring at her wearing a smirk as if he could read her mind, while he leisurely stroked his hard cock.


“I’m so glad we get to have this little bit of time together,” he said, now climbing up onto the bed, and positioning himself between her legs, “I was afraid they wouldn’t schedule me to work again before you were released, and I would’ve never forgiven myself if I’d missed the opportunity to fuck a sexy little whore like you.”


As he spoke to her, spittle flew from his mouth, into her face making her flinch in disgust. He stroked his fingers down her auburn curls, gently separating the folds of her sex. Then positioning his weeping cock at her opening, he slammed his full length into her dry channel. Willows screams were silenced by her gag, but the tears in her eyes from the pain and humiliation were more than evident.


As he pumped furiously into her, he never took his eyes off hers, he wanted to see the hurt he was causing her. Willow closed her eyes in protest, but he was beyond caring at that point. He was close. He drove into her with all his force, still feeling her feeble struggles to resist him, as his balls tightened and he shot his hot seed into her womb.


When it was over, he collapsed on top of her for a moment, trying to catch his breath. He looked at her face again, and saw tears streaming down her cheeks. She was so beautiful. He pulled the gag out of her mouth, and leaned in to taste her lips. But before he got the chance, she reached her head up and bit him on the nose as hard as she could, creating a deep gouge on either side of it. It was his turn to scream, as he pried her jaw open, freeing himself. Then he raised his hand to strike her in return, but hesitated and simply smiled, taking time to gingerly wipe the blood from his face. He then calmly climbed off of her, grabbing some tissues from her nightstand and using them to wipe away the blood and semen that was leaking from her violated opening, before carefully removing her leg restraints long enough to put her panties back on her, and strapping her in again. Then, grabbing more tissues for his nose, he dressed himself, and continued to smile at Willow, who was lying perfectly still in shocked silence.


“Thanks for the fuck. Oh, and the bite too. There’s no way they’re going to let you out of here now. See you tomorrow night,” and with that he left her room laughing.


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Patient log: Willow Marie Rosenberg Date: 03/14/00


I am sorry to report that just days before her release, the patient has had a complete relapse. She has bitten another staff member, causing him serious injury. When asked why she did this, the patient claimed the staff member had violated her sexually, but we can find no evidence to back up her claim, given that she refused any sort of physical examination to verify her story. Given her history, it seems likely that she has simply suffered another psychotic break, most likely brought on by the stress of her impending release.


I have increased her dosage of the Haloperidol back to 20 mg, three times daily, and will continue to administer 15 mg of Librium at night for her insomnia. As for the staff member she assaulted, I have had him reassigned to days until further notice, since he seems upset the patient.


Dick Scholten MD., Attending Physician


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Willow poked at her food. She wasn’t hungry, in fact she was rarely hungry anymore. Her release date had come and gone three months ago. She had been in this hell hole for eight months and unfortunately there was no end in sight. The only time when she didn’t feel like hanging herself was when she was in the art studio with Cheryl.


Cheryl had been the only one to believe her when she told the staff that John had raped her, and she had made such a fuss about them investigating, that they finally agreed to have him switched to days. But then when Cheryl wouldn’t drop the issue, they had threatened to fire her, and Willow begged her to stop, not wanting to lose the only friend she had in this place.


Eventually all the other staff seemed to forget about the incident, putting John back on the night shift. The funny thing was that she didn’t even care anymore, what was the point in fighting him when no one cared what he did to her, and if she did anything to hurt him back, they upped her medication.


She gave up on dinner, and headed back to her room. She wanted to get some reading done before John came. Xander had sent her a copy of “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,” thinking it was about birds. She had laughed at the irony, not having the heart to tell him what it was really about.


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“Hello there my little lover slut. Are you ready for a good hard fucking?” John asked as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him.


“Oh just shut up and fuck me already,” Willow replied coldly, pulling her nightgown over her head to reveal her naked body underneath.


“What?” John asked, taken aback.


“Look, we both know you’re going to do it anyway, and frankly I’m tired of fighting you. So shut your mouth, take off your pants and fuck me already.”


John was a bit in shock, but he stripped all the same. He had never had sex with a willing woman before, and wondered if it would be very different.


“Here’s the deal,” Willow said as he approached her bed, “No restraints, and no kissing. Alright?” John nodded as he climbed on top of her, “Good,” she said, reaching down to finger her clit, as she closed her eyes and pictured Spike’s fingers teasing her sensitive nub.


John had never seen a woman pleasure herself before, and was fascinated as he watched Willow alternate between rubbing and pinching her clit, letting out small mewling sounds. His cock got harder, and bobbed against his stomach at the sight of this vixen. He slid two fingers of his own, into her core, and was shocked to find it was sopping wet as she moaned from the contact. He pulled his fingers out again, and brought them to his mouth, tasting her essence, and it was intoxicating. He could wait no longer.


He positioned himself at her opening, and slowly slid his hard cock into her, reveling in the sensation that was created by her natural lubrication. As he filled her he was shocked again when she bucked her hips up, driving him deeper inside of her. He moaned low in his throat as he began a slow rhythm. Willow matched him thrust for thrust as she continued to rub her clit, allowing the sensation to overwhelm her.


She drove all thoughts of John, or the ward, out of her mind. It was Spike who was making love to her. His body was still hot from a recent kill, and he was driving her into oblivion. She sped up her pace, rubbing harder, and thrusting her hips against John’s with all her force.


“Unghh…Spike…Fuck me…” she cried out, as he drove into her, over and over. She felt her belly tighten, as a million delicious tingles washed over her body, her muscles clenching tightly around his cock.


John felt her clamp down on his shaft as he pounded into her hot core, and was pulled over the edge after her. He spilled his hot seed inside of her, and then collapsed on top of her in exhaustion. Feeling his hot, sweaty, body lying on her, pulled Willow back to reality.


“Get off of me you prick. You had your fuck now let me sleep,” she said, her voice again becoming cold. He complied with her request, and Willow realized that by giving into him, she had in fact taken control back. It was obvious that despite his past experiences he seemed to prefer a willing partner, and that gave her some power over him. And by the look in his eyes, he knew it too. He dressed quickly, and headed for the door.


“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” he said on his way out.


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Willow looked down at her breakfast and felt her stomach turn. She had woken up late and hadn’t had time to shower before going to eat, and now she was seriously regretting it. She had been letting John come to her room willingly for over a month now, but she still couldn’t get used to his stench. It wasn’t anything she could put her finger on, like a mix of cheap after shave and beer, and it was making her ill.


She pushed her tray away, and stood to go take a shower, wanting to wash his stink away, but as she headed back to her room, she felt her knees go weak, and the world start to spin. She thought she would hurl, and grabbed at the wall for support, but her hand seemed to miss as everything faded into black and she fainted.


Willow woke some time later to the sound of arguing. She was still dazed, but her ears perked up when she heard her name mentioned.


“How could this have happened?” said the voice she recognized as Dr. Scholten’s.


“You know very well how it happened, the question is what do we do about it?” said a voice she was unfamiliar with..


“I’m not sure. I guess that would be up to her parents,” Dr. Scholten said uncomfortably.


“But I thought Miss Rosenberg was eighteen now?”


“She is. Her parents were in a month ago to sign forms, having her committed as an adult.”


‘My parents were here?’ Willow thought, trying to suppress a hurt sob that suddenly filled her throat, ‘they hadn’t even bothered to see her.’


“Even so, I think legally the decision would still be hers. After all, she is the one who is pregnant.”


“Pregnant!” Willow yelled, bolting upright.


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