Part 15

Willow lost her breath as Spike crashed down on top of her, his fingers biting into her wrist. With her free hand she tried to push him away, only to have him seize it and pin it above her head with the other one. Rolling her head back, she could see her hands, now firmly trapped by his painful grasp as her body was caught beneath Spike. Wildly she swung her head trying to register what was happening. She could feel his tongue laving the pulse point behind her ear. Gasping for breath she listened to what he was saying.

"Pet, that smell...what is it...what have you done?" his voice was low and feral. The balm, he was talking about the balm. < At least I know it suits me. > Willows thoughts were interrupted by Spike writhing against her, his mouth devouring her neck as his free hand moved down her dress aggressively rubbing the material. The rough friction of the linen against her skin combined with the bruising force of his hand and the pain in her wrists caused Willow to whimper.

"Spike, you're hurting me...please...stop..." Willow barely managed to whisper, too scared of the possible consequences of the statement, but too scared not to make it. She held her breath as Spike pulled his head away, his eyes catching hers for a moment, flashing gold. With a soft growl he pushed himself off her and the bed, taking two steps away. Willow watched in amazement, he had stopped. He was trembling from restraint, hands clenched into fists, face devoid of emotion, except for his eyes which were filled with hunger and fixed on her. Watching her. Waiting.

Willow broke his gaze, sitting up on the bed and rubbed her wrists that were already starting to bruise. She looked back at him, he hadn't moved and his stare was still fixed on her. Studying him carefully she noted he was fully aroused, wanting her. Kicking off her shoes, she got off the bed and stood in front of him. Watching him intently she bought her wrist up to his face, as he took in the aroma the muscle in his jaw flexed.

"It's balm and oil - I had a massage." Her eyes didn't leave his face. Spike tilted his head flicking his tongue out to taste her offered wrist.

"It tastes like you, pet. It smells like you. Makes me want you Willow." To reinforce that point he captured her lips, his tongue begging for entry. As her mouth opened he stepped forward into her body, one arm snaking around her back, the other tangling in her hair, crushing her to him. Sighing Willow abandoned herself to his kiss, her arms encircling him eagerly, her tongue sparring with his. She could feel his hand pulling on the zipper of her dress as he shuffled them back toward the bed. Breaking the kiss Spike pulled the dress off, licking the oil that covered her breasts above her bra. Willow closed her eyes and moaned at the sensation.

Arching her back against him Willow felt herself fall back onto the bed, Spike followed, nuzzling her breast and his arms still wrapped around her. Spike pushed them forward on the bed so they were lying in the middle of it. His tongue left her breasts and wandered back to her neck as his hand unclasped her bra and tore it away. Willow felt like he was trying to devour her - she rolled her head back and groaned, arching her back and thrusting her hips up, her fingers digging into his buttocks dragging him down. Growling he thrust hard against her, his erection rubbing along the silk of her panties. Willow wrapped her legs around his thighs, desperately wanting more. Pulling his head away from her neck she kissed him, her tongue forcefully demanding his.

"Spike," she pleaded grinding her hips into his, her legs pulling him down. Smirking at her Spike rested on his forearms and slammed his pelvis into hers, the force moving her further onto the bed. Her fingers bit into his flesh and a groan left her lips. Claiming her mouth again one of his hands found the scrap of material and tore it away, tossing it carelessly with the discarded dress and bra on the floor.

Moving down Spike let his tongue trace patterns on her flesh, licking at the oil, savoring her taste. Willow moaned his name again as his tongue found her navel, laving it, lips sucking at the oiled skin. Then someone knocked on the door. Repeatedly.

"I'm going to fucking kill them!" Spike flew off the bed and wrenched the door open to find a bellboy standing there with a smile plastered on his face and a large envelope in his hand. Spike grabbed his neck and pushed him down eye-level with the "Do Not Disturb" sign. "Can you read mate? What the fuck does that say?"

"Spike!" Willow called sitting up and gathering the sheet around her while she took in the scene. His demon was at the fore standing butt naked with a raging hard-on in the open doorway and had the hotel bellboy terrified.

"Sir, sorry sir. I...I was told to give you this." The bellboy was getting a close look at the "Do Not Disturb" sign and Spikes erection. He was waving the envelope up in the air. Spike grabbed the envelope and pushed the bellboy back into the hallway.

"See it doesn't happen again." He growled before slamming the door shut and striding back to the bed. Tossing the envelope next to Willow he crouched down by the edge of the bed and began to slowly crawl his way back over her. "Now, where were we? Mmm?"

"What is it?" Willow asked picking up the envelope, ignoring Spikes predatory actions towards her. Growling low in the back of his throat, Spike picked up her foot and licked the soul, enticing a giggle. "Oh, oh, Spike! It's an invitation - to a Black and White Mask ball tomorrow night! What is a Black and White Mask ball?"

Spike looked up from sucking her toe to her flushed face, his hand rubbed the arch of her foot.

"You wear black and white clothes and a mask, pet." He returned to her foot, kissing her ankle and letting his hand stroke her knee, pushing the sheet aside.

"A mask..." a smile crossed her lips as Spike pulled her towards him, his lips brushing against her bent knee as he pushed her back. "Can we go Spike?"

"If you want to pet. It's up to you." He crawled between her legs, his tongue brushed against her, licking at her moisture before flicking against her clitoris. Moving he kept his head buried between her thighs, his arms wrapping underneath them hands resting on her stomach as his lips circled her clit, sucking against it.

"I want to Spike." Willow murmured, throwing the invitation over the edge of the bed and pushing the rest of the sheet away. She closed her eyes against everything to concentrate on the sensations that Spike was creating. His tongue was lapping at her entrance, drawing out her sweet elixir, becoming intoxicated by it. His teeth were randomly brushing against her clit, making her hips jerk, while his hands snaked up her stomach to knead her breasts. Groaning she rolled her head back and tilted her hips, pushing herself impossibly closer to his mouth. Spike bought his eyes up to look at her. Her hands were resting above her head, clasped together. Her face was flushed and she was insistently moving her hips, her body begging for
release. Smiling to himself Spike bought his tongue back up to her clit, working it furiously as he watched her come, her back arching off the bed, her juices surging and trickling down his chin.

A half smirk on his face, Spike untangled his arms from her legs and crawled over her body, his lips claiming hers, letting her taste herself. She moaned softly against his mouth and reached down to stroke his hard on. Pulling away from the kiss she smiled at him as she wrapped her legs around him. He kissed her as he penetrated in a long hard stroke. He rocked against her for a while building his own pleasure, her muscles grasping around him. Soft moans were coming from them both. The smell and feel of her were intoxicating Spike. As his need grew he started to quicken his movements, thrusting harder into her trying to embed himself even deeper
into her tight warmth. The feel of her lips against his neck, her fingernails raking his flesh, drawing blood, the sound of her calling out his name and her body tensing against him was enough to send him over the edge. Burying his face in her neck he came in rough jerks, his hips
slamming into her as he roared her name. Dropping his head against her shoulder he waited for her to recover, her breathing was ragged and her heart was pounding. Gathering her in his arms Spike gently rolled them over, pulling down a pillow for his head to rest on, while he maneuvered Willow to rest against his chest, his fingers running through her hair.

"You'll need to buy a dress, pet." Spike spoke softly, continuing to stroke her hair.

"What?" Willow asked, her fingers curling around Spikes to bring them to her mouth for a kiss. "Oh, for the ball. I can do that tomorrow. There's plenty of time."

"Do you actually plan to sleep while you are in New Orleans, love?" Spike rumbled with laughter. He received no answer as Willow was already asleep.

***

When Willow woke up she was alone in the bed. The first thing she noticed was the soft fragrance of Jasmine which was wafting through the drapes that had been pulled back to reveal open windows. Night had fallen and the room was partially lit by the streetlights coming through the open drapes. Glancing around the dimly lit room Willow caught sight of the deep dark red
dress she had bought that afternoon. It was laid out on a chair and the rest of her bags had been hidden away. Sighing she turned her head and caught sight of a note on the vacant pillow. It was from Spike saying he had gone out but would be back soon and that they would go to dinner together.

Willow untangled herself from the sheets and went to have a shower. By the time she finished and dressed Spike still hadn't returned. Grabbing a bottle of water from the small wet bar she wandered out to the balcony and sat in one of the large wicker chairs to wait for Spike. She didn't have to wait too long.

"Hello, pet. Have a good sleep?" Spike lowered himself into the neighboring chair.

"You've changed!" Willow gasped at his appearance. He was wearing black tailored trousers and a black shirt with a v-neck.

"I've bought you a pressie, love." Spike ignored her previous comment and gave her a velvet box. Opening it she discovered a beautiful garnet choker and matching bracelet, they were the same color as her dress.

"Oh my! Spike, I don't know what to say! They're exquisite...but you shouldn't..." he cut her off by picking up the choker and putting in on her.

"I don't want you to say anything, pet. Just wear them." Spike reached down and clasped the bracelet on her wrist. "Shall we go to dinner then?"

Willow nodded. Still looking in awe at the intricate bracelet.

***

Three hours later and they were back in the little club they had found the previous night. Much to Willows delight the same band was playing and Spike had conceded to dance to every song with her. Willow bounced happily around the club speaking to most of the patrons and being favored with an introduction to the singer. She gushed at him saying how much she loved his
voice and asking if they had a CD out. Spike watched her patiently, curling an arm around her waist while she spoke with the singer, casting him death stares while kissing Willows exposed shoulder. In the small hours of the morning, Spike led her into one of the darker corners of the club to a huge overstuffed leather sofa, pulling her down on his lap. She still babbled as she casually flung her arms about his neck.

"They're here for the whole week! It's a pity tomorrow's our last night - do you think we could come back tomorrow? I mean I like this place, its cool. Great ambiance about..." Spike broke through her babbling.

"I thought you wanted to go to the ball, pet?" he pushed her hair off her face, tracing the outline of her ear.

"Oh, I forgot. Well, I guess we could come here after the ball? Couldn't we?" she looked at him in question.

"Whatever you want Willow." Spike brushed his lips against hers, his tongue teasing her. Sighing she deepened the kiss bringing her hand up to stroke his face. Willow pulled away from the kiss as his hand slipped between her legs. Jamming her thighs together she tried to stop his movements, unfortunately his fingers were already brushing against the silk of her panties.

"Spike." She hissed at him.

"Yes pet?" he smirked as his fingers kept fondling her.

"What are you doing?" she looked wildly around the club, desperately hoping no one saw them.

"Well, I would like to think you know exactly what I'm doing." Shifting her slightly on his lap, Spike continued his ministrations. "What are you worried about Willow? There are fifteen people left, all happily over at the bar - pissed as farts. So what are you worried about Willow?"

"There is no way we can have...that we can do this here without getting caught! It's just not possible." Willow tightened her grip on his shirt as began to nibble on her ear, his fingers had worked their way under the silk.

"Let me show you Willow." He murmured against her ear, his fingers curled against the silk about to rip it when Willow grasped his forearm.

"No!" she hissed angrily. "You are ruining all my underwear!"

Spike chuckled at her, urging her to stand up he quickly pulled her knickers off intact and stuffed them in his pocket.

"Better pet?" he asked as he pulled her back down to straddle his lap. She nodded at him, smiling as he kissed her. Willows hand moved down between them to rub against Spikes erection. It seemed strange to encounter the soft loose material of his pants instead of the usual tight denim, it wasn't as restraining and Willow could almost wrap her fingers around him. Frowning, that still wasn't enough for her, she bought her other hand down and undid his pants freeing his throbbing erection. Sighing happily against his lips she tried to encircle him as best she could, using firm strokes. Breaking the kiss, she looked down at his pale penis as she continued to play with it.

"No wonder you're so blasé about my underwear when you don't even wear any." She whispered.

"Just gets in the way pet." A noise at the bar distracted Willow and watching the patrons closely she realized one of them had just passed out. Spike pulled her hand away and lifted her slightly, his hard shaft sliding easily into her. Willow gasped as she felt him enter her using his hands on her hips to start a lazy rhythm. Still her eyes remained on the other occupants of the bar, waiting for them to turn around. Spike smirked at her distraction and decided to cause a bigger one by thrusting hard into her - setting her off balance and making her fall against his chest.

"Spike." She moaned as she moved her arms to grab the back of the sofa. He lowered his head to her breast sucking the nipples through the thin material of her dress while one hand kneaded her arse the other fondled her clit, causing her to jerk against his hand.

"Quietly pet, otherwise we will get caught." Willow nodded as she lowered her head to nip at his neck, tongue running over his Adams apple. She worked her way down to his shoulder, pulling at the shirt to expose flesh. She could feel herself start to surge against him, a feral scream building in her. Desperate to stop it escaping she bit down on his shoulder. Hard.
She drew blood. She drew the demon.

Spike felt her bite, could smell his own blood, could feel her sucking against the wound as the rest of her body tensed about him. Suddenly her hand was in his hair, pulling his demon visage away from her breasts, her green eyes seeking his gold ones. Leaning down she kissed each hooded eye and the ridges on his forehead before claiming his mouth. As Spike tasted the tang of his own blood he came, her mouth smothered his cry. Pulling back Willow bought her hand up to caress Spikes face, the demon countenance withdrew to be replaced by his human features.

"I told you we wouldn't get caught pet." Spike murmured as he licked at the sweat forming on her skin. Willow didn't answer, just stroked his hair. "Maybe we should head back Willow?"

Pushing her back onto his knees, Spike did up his pants and stood them both up. Holding her arm as she swayed a little unsteadily.

"Shall we pet?" Willow nodded as she let Spike lead her from the club and out into the streets of New Orleans.

***

"Dance with me?" The singsong voice called softly through the darkness of the park. Angel knew as soon as he heard the lilting English accent that it was Drusilla. Turning slowly he faced his once beloved childe. She stood in the moonlight in all her beauty arms outstretched in a loving embrace waiting for him. Her skin was like alabaster, pale and smooth, while her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders - an ethereal mistress of the night. "My Angel, dance with me..."

Angel took a step back from her approaching figure, causing her to stop and pout at him, eyes wide in disbelief. Dropping her arms, she grasped at the red material of her skirt twisting it in her fingers as she whimpered.

"Angel...you've gone all shy..." she ran a hand up the bodice of her dress to caress her neck. "You've no need to be shy...the things we've done..."

Rolling her head back she giggled low in her throat, eyes unseeing as jaded memories flooded her mind. Her head fell forward and she fixed her eyes on Angel, slowly starting to sway towards him. The hand that had been caressing her throat was outstretched, the fingers trembling to touch his cold flesh. Her eyes mesmerized Angel; they were dull and full of desperation, a need, a longing. Before those eyes had been cold and cruel, now they were unfocused, a reflection of the confusion of her mind filled with the illusions of madness. Angel had been so lost in those haunted eyes that he hadn't realised that she was in front of him, her body pressing against his, one hand resting on his hip while the other stroked his cheek tenderly. He took in her smell - like that of rose petals that had fallen from the flower into the vase and were slowly rotting in stagnant water. Roses and death. That was Drusilla. Shoving her hands away he looked down at her.

"What are you doing here Drusilla? I wonder that Spike would let you out of his sight..." Angels' eyes narrowed as he took in the shadows of the night, scanning the area for the familiar figure, thinking that Drusilla being alone was just another of his games. "Where's Spike?"

"Spike? Spike's playing...gathering roses for a crown...he's lighting a fire..." she whispered, looking up at Angel and smiling. Her hands delved beneath his jacket, caressing his flesh, the fingers tearing at the fabric of his shirt. Grabbing her hands once again Angel crushed the wrists
beneath his fingers hoping to still her movements. She only gasped in pleasure, her whole face reflecting her arousal at the pain. "He's burning ...like you are..."

"Like you're going to burn if you don't get your sluttish hands off my boyfriend." Buffy hissed as she stepped out from the nearby shadows. Drusilla snarled and turned her head.

"Yours? My Angel belongs to no one. He owns us...always...always hungry." Drusilla yanked her hands free of Angels hold and turned to face the slayer. Smiling she rubbed herself back against Angel, rolling her eyes in pleasure. "So very hungry for flesh. Too late he realizes what he wants...he burns but can't..."

"Oh yay," Buffy cut off Drusilla's gibberish. "Just what I don't have time for tonight - the incoherent babblings of a mentally challenged ho. Last warning - get the hell away from him or you are dust."

Drusilla tilted her head and looked at Buffy, eyebrows raised in thought. Slowly she walked away from Angel and towards the pissed off slayer. Raising one hand Drusilla stroked the blonde hair, twisting the ends in her fingertips.

"I'm away...but tonight, when you sleep, he will be with me," she smiled down at the slayer, yanking her hair before releasing it. "Making me scream his name..."

Buffy lashed out at Drusilla landing a savage blow on the temple. Before she had time to even raise her arm for another blow Drusilla had grabbed her arm and was lifting her up by the neck, twirling around she threw Buffy at Angel, who staggered back pulling them both down to the ground in a tangle mess of limbs. By the time Buffy and Angel had disentangled themselves Drusilla was gone. Buffy turned to look at Angel, brushing off her clothes.

"Well, at least you still have your number one fan," she glanced around the darkened park, searching for any movements in the shadows. "I don't think I have to ask what she wanted? You are going to tell me that I'd be foolish to believe her, aren't you?"

Buffy glanced back at Angel, desperately seeking confirmation that his childe was of no importance to him. He was still watching the shadows. Buffy closed her eyes briefly trying to ignore the comment that Drusilla had made about later tonight as it echoed through her mind.

"Angel?" Buffy whispered hesitantly, causing Angel to glance down at the tiny blonde by his side.

"She was, as always, talking nonsense, Buffy. But I think she may have helped us - she said that Spike was lighting a fire." Angel said as he began to lead Buffy from the park and toward the school and Giles.

"Since when have we ever listened to anything she has to say?" Buffy questioned, striding quickly to keep up with Angel. "I mean it isn't like she makes any sense...to us anyway!"

"Exactly. To us, but to her - it's hard to explain Buffy. It's like the expression 'method behind the madness', there is a sliver of truth to everything she says - we just have to find it." Angel continued striding through the corridors of the school, his mind focused only on the conversation with Drusilla.

"A sliver of truth..." Buffy repeated quietly to herself as they pushed open the doors to the library.

After a brief explanation to Giles of the nights occurrences he was soon agreeing that Drusilla's ramblings should not be brushed aside and started to research fire. Sighing Giles chewed on the end of his glasses.

"This would be so much easier if Willow were here." He said as he put his glasses back on and opened yet another volume. Buffy flicked through the book in front of her, absently scanning the pages for any mention of fire.

"Cheer up Giles, your favourite research assistant will be back tomorrow." She continued flicking at the pages.

"Probably good for her to have a few days away from this..." Angel said quietly, so quietly that the others didn't hear him. He still felt bad about his treatment of her the previous week. His dreams had been filled of her, of the scene, repeating itself over and over again. He glanced up at the double doors leading into the library. "I just hope she's okay..."

****

Spike glanced up at the double doors leading into the ballroom and sighed. He'd been waiting for Willow to walk through those doors for exactly 25 minutes and there was still no sign of her.

"Women!" he muttered to himself as he turned to stare at the fat politicians jugular, wondering if anyone would notice a brutal blood letting. Spike had long ago tuned out of the conversation and was observing the other people who were in attendance of the ball. Probably New Orleans cream of society, politicians, lawyers, old money, new money, doctors and other notables deemed worthy of an invitation. Most were middle aged to elderly, toppling around the room, air kissing and then bitching about everyone else. Spike sighed again. "So much for a bloody black and white ball - should have been black."

Black, being flattering to all body shapes and sizes, dominated the room. White was spent on accessories, the men's dress shirts and a number of the masks. Spike himself was dressed in a stylish suit the jacket of which was long and fell barely above his knees, it was matched with a white silk shirt, white silk cravat, a heavily embroidered white waistcoat and black satin mask. Needless to say he cut quite a handsome figure and all of the women and some of the men in the room were ogling. And he was ignoring all of them.

Tilting his head, he again wondered if he could do the world a favour and rip the bores throat out. However he thought better of it - deciding that the old fart probably had so much fat running through his veins that he was a walking stroke and it would be better to let the bastard suffer. Spike stared at the oaf, silently wishing that he would hurry up and have the stroke so that he'd at least shut up when he actually said something of interest.

"Well, well, well, what a pretty piece of flesh. I might be in with a chance there." Spike turned to the doors to see Willow. She was wearing a beautiful sleeveless white gown; a black chiffon scarf encircled her neck, the ends falling over her bare back to the ground, with long black satin
gloves and a matching black mask. Her red hair was twisted up, a few kiss curls falling about her mask and neck, moving gently as she nervously glanced around the crowded ballroom.

"I doubt that very much mate," Spike practically spat the word out. "My wife doesn't whore herself out to anyone and she certainly wouldn't give you the time of day."

Smiling he walked away from the spluttering bright red politician (whose stroke was imminent as his blood pressure had just sky rocketed) and sauntered over to Willow, taking her hand and raising it to his lips.

"Willow, darling, you look exquisite." He stepped up next to her, lacing her arm through his and began to lead her through the throng toward the dance floor. "Dance with me?"

"Why, thank you kind sir. That would be heavenly." Answered Willow in her best Southern Belle accent, causing Spike to chuckle as he led her into a waltz. The evening passed quickly for Willow. Strange men were seeking her as a dance partner, Spike claiming her for every second dance. Soon the evening became nothing more than a blur of masks hiding the faces of her various partners, leaving only their voices identifiable as they made at first flattering comments later developing into lewd remarks with the increasing alcohol in their blood. Relief was found in Spikes arms as he effortlessly danced her around the floor, intoxicating her with their movements, making her want more. Just before midnight, when the official unmasking was meant to begin, Spike drew her aside.

"Well pet, what say we go before you actually have to put an ugly face to those ugly voices?" Spike looked down at Willow.

"Go? No more dancing? Oh..." she thought for a moment her eyes brightening as an idea struck her. "Can we go to the club?"

Spike chuckled as he kissed her gloved palm.

"Wherever you want to go Willow." He held out his arm for her, bowing slightly. "Shall we my dear?"

****

The club was incredibly quiet. There could have been no more than ten or twelve people, but the band was playing and the angel was singing - much to Willows delight. They had come directly from the ball, still in their masks and costumes, looking most regal. Wandering over to the singer Willow chatted to him briefly while they were taking a break. Spike walked over to
the bar and ordered a bottle of champagne and took it and two glasses back to a small table near the dance floor. Pouring himself a glass he leaned back and took in the view of Willow, giggling and talking to the singer. He wondered where she had found the dress; she had only left the room for barely an hour that afternoon. Smirking to himself, he remembered how they
had spent the day, alternately talking and shagging, well she talked and he listened, asking subtle questions here and there. It was basically nonsense talk - likes and dislikes, silly games that children play to get to know one another. Enough for him to be know that he had been correct in the assumptions that he had made of Willow. Who she was, her tastes, her loves,
her hates and her fears. It was enough. As she walked back to him he noticed she was happily waving something in her hand.

"Paul gave me their CD! Don't you think that was sweet of him?" she sat down and took the glass that he was offering, sipping it. "They are going to be back in about five minutes. Then we can dance and dance!"

Which they did - for hours. Perhaps it was the mood they gave off or perhaps the barkeeper was just too scared to ask Spike to leave, but they stayed for hours. Dancing and drinking champagne. During the last dance Spike leant down to whisper the lyrics of the song in Willows ear making her giggle.

"I want you, I need you. I want your happiness and tears. I want to possess you. I want to know where the hell you've been." Willow listened as he continued to repeat those words in her ear, a shiver coursing through her at the depth and emotion of his voice. Finally he pulled away and looked around the nearly deserted club. "Well pet, I think its time to leave."

"But I want to waltz still Spike." Willow giggled under the influence of the champagne. Spike grabbed her hand and pulled her to him.

"I'll waltz you to eternity Willow."

It wasn't eternity - just to their hotel room. Stopping only once they were behind their door. Willow watched as he removed his jacket, throwing it carelessly over the back of an armchair. Sighing she stepped in close and started to undo the buttons on his waistcoat.

"Where did you get this?" she asked offhandedly. It fitted too well to be a random kill and take. She ran her gloved hands along the material of the waistcoat, a finger tracing the embroidered patterns in awe. It was a truly beautiful suit.

"Tailor in the French Quarter...I didn't think leather and jeans would be acceptable, pet." He pulled at the cravat, loosening the knot and untangling it, as he watched her gloved fingers fumble with the buttons on the shirt. Lifting one of the hands to his mouth he kissed it lightly before turning away from her to remove the shirt and place it with the rest of the items on the chair. He heard her giggle lightly and so turned back to face her. She was running her hands over the lines of her dress.

"I can't believe I spent so much money on this dress and I won't ever be able to wear it again..." she twirled around, causing the skirt of the dress to twist about her legs. Spike moved forward and took hold of her hand, his eyes running appreciatively over the dress and Willow. Smiling he knelt before her, a hand caressing her ankle before lifting her foot and removing
the shoe.

"Why won't you be able to wear it again?" he looked up at her as he repeated the movement with her other foot. He remained on his knees waiting for an answer, his hands caressing her ankles and calves. Willow looked down at his masked face and smiled her hands holding onto his bare shoulders for support.

"I doubt that I would ever have the occasion to wear it in Sunnydale..." she absently stroked the material of the gown with one gloved hand her face loosing her smile. "Anyway I wouldn't want to..."

Willow gasped as she felt Spikes hands move higher up her legs and his mouth kiss the material of her dress above her pubic bone. She closed her eyes to concentrate on the feel of his cool hands as they stroked her thighs, the sensation of his mouth moving along the dress, pausing at the navel his tongue swirling around the material teasing her through it. Sighing she let her hands caress his back, marvelling at the feel of his muscles flexing as he moved.

"So," his voice reverberated against her as his mouth moved up to suckle her breast through the dress and she whimpered at the lost of his hands on her thighs as he dragged down her knickers and then bought his hands up to hold her waist. "The dress has served its purpose and is now...useless? Nothing more than a rag."

The question hung in the air as Willow looked at him. She nodded. Smiling lasciviously he wrapped his fists in the material of the neckline.

"Useless," he stated as he tore the gown away. Willow gasped in shock as the gown fell to the floor and then giggled.

"Oh my, just useless!" she said, as Spike lowered his head to lave at her nipple, hungrily sucking on it like a starved child as his hands roamed her body. Moaning his name Willow entangled her fingers in his short hair, holding him closer as she pushed her body into him. If he hadn't been holding on to her she would have fallen to the floor. She could hear him chuckling against her flesh, making her shiver. His hands tightened on her flesh and he swung her into his arms to twirl around before carrying her to the bed. Placing her gently on the bed he took off his trousers and shoes before lying down beside her, one hand idly stroking her thigh.

Willow sighed contently and ran her gloved hand across his back. Glancing at the clock on the bedside table she grimaced to herself. It read 4.48am.

"Twelve hours," she spoke quietly.

"What pet?" Spike asked as his hands continued to explore her body.

"Less than twelve hours before we leave," she bought a hand up to caress the satin mask he still wore, her fingertips barely brushing against his face. Sighing she bought her other hand up to her own mask. "Twelve hours before we end this charade."

Spikes hand shot out and his fingers encircled Willows wrist before she could remove her mask.

"Leave it on, pet." He leant forward and captured her lips with his own, his tongue teasing them open before delving into the warmth of her mouth, taking her breath away. Continuing his assault on her mouth he pushed her back onto the bed, one hand delving between her legs and teasing at her already wet slit. Willow moaned and lifted a leg, slinging it casually across his ass and thigh, urging him down to her. "Twelve hours pet. I think we can entertain ourselves until..."

Spike forgot his sentence and moaned as Willows satin covered fingers encircled his cock, making it throb as she stroked it before guiding him into her.

"Make me forget Spike." She murmured as she nibbled on his ear and thrust up against him, her breasts pushing into his chest.

"I'll do anything for you Willow," he said as he rolled over her and began a steady rhythm of thrusts while his mouth caressed her breasts and neck.

"Anything?" Willow asked as she met his thrusts, delighting in the sensations he was creating with his talented mouth. He pulled his head away from her breasts to look her in the eye.

"Anything you want from me Willow." He growled at her, his voice low. Staring at him in wonder, she realised he was serious.

"Would you kill for me?" she asked, moving against him, a low groan escaping as he thrust deep into her, his flesh rubbing hard against her clitoris.

"Yes," he hissed thrusting harder against her. "I would kill. Anyone, anywhere without a moments hesitation. Anything you ask of me Willow, it is yours."

Rolling her head back she moaned in sheer pleasure as he continued to build the tension in her body, her mind concentrating only on his words and the sensations of his body. With every thrust she moaned and writhed against him. Closing her eyes she lost herself to him, surrendered all thoughts but him.

"Would you die for me Willow?" he questioned softly. Willows eyes shot open, her whole body tensed in fear. Was this it? Was this what he wanted from her? He continued to thrust into her, long hard thrusts that were painstakingly slow, a torture almost. His eyes never left hers as he waited for an answer. She searched those eyes desperately for some sign; she could read nothing in them except for the question. Would she die for him? Briefly her mind flashed with images, of her friends, of her life, and of Spike. Closing her eyes against his intense stare she swallowed back the lump that was forming in her throat. Opening her eyes she looked deep into his blue gaze and answered honestly.

"Yes Spike. I would." His lips crushed down on hers and she felt one of his arms wrap tightly around her waist while the other hand buried itself in her hair. Lifting her body closer to his he began to move faster within her, causing her to moan loudly as she wrapped her arms and legs tightly about him. Willow arched back into his arms as she felt her body start to tremble, her muscles clenching around his shaft urging him impossibly deeper into her. As she came she screamed his name her hands digging into his flesh.

While her muscles were still contracting and trembling around him Spike lowered his head. His mouth and lips caressed her throat. She could feel tears begin to burn at the back of her eyes as she rolled her head back to expose her neck to him. As she felt his lips pressing against her pulse point, his tongue laving at it in the same rhythm of his thrusts, she felt her body begin to tense again. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps as his thrusts became harder and faster, his hips slamming into her and his fingers biting at her flesh drawing her to him. As she felt his blunt teeth scrape across the flesh of her neck her body jerked up against his, muscles tightening and clenching around him and she wailed his name. Pulling his mouth away from her neck Spike howled as he came with her.

Still holding her close as he licked at the tears, Spike rolled carefully pulling Willow on top of him, gently tugging at her mask and throwing it carelessly aside before doing the same with his own mask.

"There is no masquerade between us Willow." He murmured softly into her ear, kissing the lobe. "Remember that."

Willow could feel his arms tighten around her, his hands soothing her still trembling body, urging it to sleep.

***

Willow's sense of despondency had been growing ever since they had left the hotel and now, some seven hours later as Spike's manic driving ability had them speeding back to Sunnydale, it seemed to engulf her. The closer they got the more she retreated into her thoughts. Sighing she closed her eyes against the scratched black window she had been staring at for the last hour. She knew no matter what there would be questions - her sudden disappearance, Spike would have been notably missed as well and the connection was Oz. She wondered exactly what Spike had done during the time she left the dressing room and when he joined her at the bar - there had been no mention of it in their time together. In all possibility Oz could be dead. Although curious, there was a part of her that was too frightened to ask, she didn't really want to know. But there was the problem, Oz would have told everyone of Spike accompanying her to LA and it wouldn't take them long to put the two's disappearances together. It was going to be one hell of mess when she got back.

Wriggling around on the leather seat, her body tired and aching, she glanced across at Spike her brow wrinkling in confusion. They had spent the whole day in bed together, their sexual acts had become a reflection of Willow's growing apprehension, she lost herself in the physical release and Spike, desperately clinging to something which could soon be over. She had been amazed by her own stamina. Through the course of the day he had been attentive and gentle - giving her a massage with her personalised oil and then another with his tongue as he proceeded to lick it off. When she woke late in the afternoon their things were packed in two cases and Spike was running a bath. On the plane trip back his hand never left her thigh, and now, although she was sitting some distance from him, he had stretched his arm across the back of the seats so that his fingers were lightly touching her shoulder.

Sighing Willow looked back at the window. Conversation had been the only thing lacking that day. Nothing had been said about what had passed between them. There was no talk of the future or even their return to Sunnydale. It just happened, everything just happened. She was lost. Every fibre of her being was screaming out "what happens now" but she couldn't bring herself to ask Spike that question...she was too frightened of the answer, of the consequences. Rolling her eyes up she stared at the ceiling of the car. Consequences. Where was that thought when she had jumped Spike in LA? Consequences. Why didn't she think of those when she went to New Orleans? Consequences. Why didn't she consider those before telling a demon she would die for him? The screaming questions of Willow's thoughts were interrupted by Spike brushing his fingers along her jaw as he pulled the car up at her house. She watched as he got out of the car and listened to the sound of the boot opening and closing. Running her fingers along the slim column of her neck she eased herself off the seat and out of the car, taking Spike's offered hand to stand up.

"Thank you," she said glancing into his eyes. Something flickered momentarily in their blue depths before returning to the cold glassy stare. She flinched as he bought a hand up to caress her face, smiling he leant in and kissed her softly. Pulling her gaze away from his face Willow took the large leather case from his hand before turning on her heel and walking into the safety of her house, aware of his eyes following her. Leaning against the closed door she waited, listening as she heard him drive away. Biting her bottom lip she looked around the darkened house. She knew why she hadn't considered the consequences of her actions. Because they didn't matter. She didn't regret anything that she had done.

Entering her room the flashing of the answering machine was the first thing she noticed. Without turning on the light she played the messages -messages from Buffy, Xander, her parents and Oz. Buffy and Xander were just general chitchat, call me when you get in type messages, nothing of great importance. Her parents were calling to say that yet again they would be away for the next month or so. Oz needed to talk and could she please call him when she got back. Sighing Willow picked up the phone, her fingers hovering above the number pad, she glanced quickly at the alarm clock on her bedside table it was just before midnight. She put the phone back down and began unpacking her bag - they could all wait until tomorrow.

***

From the shadows of Willow's balcony he watched her. Watched as she moved about her room, her hesitation to contact her friends. Watched as she unpacked the bag, as she stripped off and disappeared through the door. Watched as she came back, dropped her towel and crawled naked into her bed to sleep. Then and only then did he move forward to rest his forehead against the glass of the doors, keeping a solitary sentry until the threat of sunrise forced a retreat.

***

It was close to sunrise when Drusilla heard the door to the bedroom being opened. Sighing softly, she let out a giggle. She was lying on the bed her feet bare, one arm thrown carelessly above her head while the other traced the soft contours of her dress.

"Drusilla," a soft male voice purred as the bed shifted and a cool body spooned in behind her. Drusilla closed her eyes and concentrated on the tactile sensations created as she rubbed back against him. Opening her mouth she gasped before giggling again as a hand joined hers to caress her body.

"You're here," she sighed moving their hands down to her thighs. "I thought you'd never come home."

Dull teeth nuzzled at her neck before moving up to nip at her earlobe. The dark haired vampire leant back and moaned, her body pushing back against the other. Long delicate fingers danced across her body before deftly finding their way beneath the layers of skirts she was wearing. She was already wet, her clit swollen and begging to be touched. She couldn't help but moan in delight as the fingers gently touched her and she began to thrust down against them seeking more contact. She was rewarded as two fingers caught her clit, alternately rubbing and twisting until she was begging for more. Her face reflected the pure ecstasy those fingers were creating, her eyes were closed while her lips were moist and parted. Three fingers pushed deep inside her, the thumb rhythmically teasing her clit as the fingers began to thrust in and out. With a final thrust she came, soaking the hand and squeezing the fingers trapping them inside her.

"Angel!" she cried out, her voice full of passion.

***

< I can do this. > thought Willow as she walked towards her locker. She looked up and saw Buffy and Giles determinedly walking towards her. < No, I was wrong. I can’t do this. >

Turning she hoped to walk away unnoticed, unfortunately Xander was standing right in front of her.

"What's this?" he asked, a frown marring his face.

"What's what?" asked Willow. < Oh my god, they know. >

"You go away for four days and you can't be bothered to call your best friend when you get back?" he gave her a lopsided grin. "That will definitely cost you in the souvenir department...or at least those miniature helpings of goodness they give you on the airplane. So where is it? What did you bring me?"

"Really Xander, I think we have far more important things to discuss with Willow than...presents." Spoke Giles as he turned his attention to a still startled Willow. "I need you to do some research after classes."

"Well, I was..." Willow struggled to think of some excuse to get out of it.

"Drusilla gave us a hot tip, according to Angel!" Buffy exclaimed, giving an exasperated look to her friend.

"Drusilla?" Willow asked quietly, searching Buffy's face.

"Yep she's back, raving like a lunatic...which is what she has always done..." Buffy looked at Giles and shrugged. "Well she is, and was and always will be."

"Yes, well. After classes - I'll see you all then." Said Giles as he walked off to the library.

Willow stood in stunned silence. Drusilla was back. She shouldn't be that shocked - Spike had said she was coming. Before her mind could form any logical discussion with itself Buffy poked her in the shoulder, a lascivious smile crossing her face.

"So Miss I've-Been-Gone-For-Days want to tell me what you really got up too?" she waggled her eyebrows at Willow.

"What?" Willow asked open mouthed, still reeling from the news of Drusilla's reappearance.>

"Well, lets see..." Buffy turned to wink at Xander. "You go to LA to see your boyfriends band and just suddenly disappear for a few days..."

"Definitely sounds like a naughty naked romp was had by Willow to me," added Xander, joining in Buffy's taunts.

"I...how...what do you mean?" stuttered Willow. < Oh god, they do know. >

"Come on Will, you and Oz both go missing at the same time? We aren't stupid you know!" Buffy exclaimed shaking her head.

"I have to go to class." Said Willow grabbing her books and walking away as fast as possible.

"Well, guess we won't be getting any juicy details. Then again, do I really want to know the naked details of my best friend?" muttered Xander, pondering the idea. Tucking his hands into his jean pockets he watched Willows retreating figure. "Big NO on that one."

***

Seven o'clock found Willow settled in front of the computer in the library researching fire. Pausing she looked around the library, relieved to be back in familiar surroundings where everything appeared normal. The day had been little more than a blur of classes, books and research. Oz, although at school, had been easily avoided. It had become obvious, after her initial panic, that he had said nothing. They had spoken briefly at lunchtime, both unsure as to what to say, before making excuses to leave. Deciding she would have to talk to him later she returned her attention to the computer.

Fire, she had no idea what she was looking for. Of course do a general search on the word "fire" on the net and you come across millions of sites. Mind you pairing it down with a few other choice demonology phrases and words didn't help much either. Nearly every prophecy, demon, or "end of the world" catastrophe related directly or indirectly to fire. < Hopeless, like looking for a needle in a haystack. >

One of the doors of the library swung open, causing Willow to look up from her computer - she was expecting to see Buffy and Angel returning from patrol. Unfortunately Oz slowly walked in.

"Hey guys," he offered to Xander and Giles who were researching books at the large table. He walked up to Willow. "We need to talk."

Willow swallowed as she took in his calm demeanour. Slowly rising out of the chair she nodded and turned to Giles. "Giles, do you mind if we use your office?"

"Not at all, go ahead," Giles said with a flick of his wrist, his nose still buried in the volume he was reading.

"Talking after the dirty weekend...this is not good." mumbled Xander pushing his chair back on two legs as Giles office door closed behind the couple.

"Xander," Giles said quietly, still not looking up from his book.

"Mmm?" Xander asked.

"Do shut up."

***

Willow waited. Oz wanted to talk so he could start the conversation. The silence was deafening.

"Willow, I'm sorry. I don't know what to say...all I know is that I miss you. I miss talking to you. I miss holding you in my arms. I miss the way you make me feel." Oz paused, uncertain of what to say next.

Willow stood there, listening to the words he spoke. To her they didn't really make sense. She knew he wanted forgiveness. He had forgiven her for the indiscretion with Xander. Was this really any different? She rationalised that the groupie sex probably meant less to him than what she had with Xander. In that case yes, she could forgive him. But it wasn't as simple as that.

"Oz, I think it best that we both take a break. We need time to think about our relationship...I mean obviously there is something wrong with it...or it lacks something...or there is something wrong with us...as an us..." She looked at him for the first time since entering the office and realised she was babbling. She studied him intently for a moment and suddenly felt certain of one thing. "I don't want to do this anymore."

"What?" Oz asked in disbelief. "That's it? We hit a rough spot that you don't want to deal with so it's over? I was stupid, I admit that, but what we have Willow, it's good, it's what I want. That girl...she was nothing...it meant nothing. This...us, it's right."

"How can you say it's right? It can't be if we both have to find satisfaction with other people..." she stopped for a moment to look at him, his demeanour still outwardly calm, his eyes fixed on her. He wanted her, he wanted to keep what they had. "This isn't about what you want Oz. We've both made mistakes. We need to take a break and consider what we really want."

"I know what I want...I want you Willow. I want it the way it was before. I am sorry it happened, it was a stupid, stupid mistake and I would do anything to change it, to make it better. Tell me what I have to do and I'll do it." He begged.

The sound of Buffy's voice penetrated the office. Willow sighed Angel and Buffy were back. Buffy was telling Giles about patrol and how vamp activity was definitely on the up. Willow looked around the office she was beginning to feel trapped, like she was suffocating. Oz wanted her, was willing to do anything for her.

"I don't want to do this anymore Oz." It was the only thing Willow was certain off. Before Oz had a chance to say anything Willow opened the door and began to walk out of the office, she knew he wouldn't make a scene, it wasn't his style. Unfortunately she was wrong.

"Why were you in LA with Spike?" Willow closed her eyes for the briefest of moments as Oz's question seem to reverberate around the whole library, she didn't think she had ever heard him speak so loudly.

"What?" asked Giles, startled out of his research.

Willow turned to glance quickly at Oz before turning her attention back to the occupants of the library, Giles, Xander, Angel and Buffy, everyone was staring at her, shock clearly visible on their faces.

"I wasn't in LA with Spike," Willow blatantly lied, taking a deep breath before continuing. "He was already at the club when I showed up and after..." she turned for a moment to look at Oz, tears pricking at her eyes, the frustration and anger of his betrayal finally surging forth. "Afterwards I lost him and went straight to the airport and on to New York."

She waited, hoping that they would buy the story. In the faces before her she saw relief, except for Angel who was flexing his jaw and clenching his fists. Curiosity was aroused and barrages of questions were fired at her.

"What do you mean 'lost him'?" Buffy queried, it was the only question Willow heard that she felt comfortable with.

"He followed me to the dressing room," Willow paused as Oz ducked his head down. "And I don't know what happened, but I left and he stayed...well at least I think he stayed, I'm not sure."

"He stayed," Oz offered, gazing down at the floor before looking back at Willow. "He killed her...ripped her throat out..."

"Killed who? What 'her'?" Buffy asked frowning at Oz and Willow.

"What girl?" asked Angel, echoing Buffy's question eyes fixed on Oz.

Oz stared back at Angel, almost wincing at the intensity of his gaze. He had always gotten on well with Angel, they were of similar natures and had their own demons to fight, but now he saw the same look in Angel's eye as he had seen in Spike's just before he...Oz winced visibly.

"I had...I was with a girl." Oz offered uncertainly. "In the dressing rooms, she was a...groupie."

Willow turned her head away, willing herself not to cry.

"You what?" cried Xander incredulously standing up and sending his chair flying. "You should..."

"Xander that's enough!" Willows voice cut through the air like a knife. She stared at them all her resolve face firmly in place. "What happened in LA is our business - it has nothing to do with any of you."

"But Spike..." Buffy started only to be cut down by a withering scowl from Willow.

"I told you he was at the club when I got there - I didn't even know he was there until I was at the dressing room. I left straight away and went to New York - I can show you my airline ticket if you don't believe me," Willow waited, the ticket was a bluff but it might be all she needed to get out of the mess.

"There's no need for that Willow, we would never doubt what you say," said Giles softly. "I think it best we get back to our research, that is if you feel up to it Willow?"

Willow nodded and walked back to the computer. As she sat down she glanced in the general direction of Angel and Buffy. She saw a look of shock and pity on Buffy's face as the understanding that Willow had caught Oz in a compromising position with a groupie finally dawned on her. Angel was still glaring at Oz his dark eyes practically smouldering while the rest of his face was set in a mask of indifference.

"Oz, I think it would be best if you leave." Giles quietly stated. Oz nodded and walked out the door. As Giles continued to talk about the specifics of what needed to be researched no one noticed Angel silently follow Oz.

***

"Want to tell me what really went on?" growled Angel. Oz fiddled with his van keys, before unlocking the drivers' door.

"I was getting blown by some little groupie. I didn't even know her name. Door opened, there was Willow and Spike. Door shut and the next thing I knew the girl was dead, and I was pinned against a wall thinking I was going to be next," he paused for a moment before partially turning his head. "I know she was there with Spike. Something's changed...I can't smell her anymore."

"What do you mean?" he felt Angel closing the space between them, the hairs on the back of his neck were rising as the air about him cooled.

"I can smell her essence, but not her. She smells like she's aroused, but I can't smell anything else. Before I could smell her fear, her pain...now there's just her, nothing else." Oz paused considering his words. "It's like she's masked by her own smell."

Suddenly Oz felt himself grabbed by the scruff of the neck and his head slammed forcefully into the side of the van. Angel's fingers dug cruelly into the flesh, nails breaking through the skin with a mind numbing pressure. Oz froze, terrified of what was going to happen, he felt a cool breath of air run across his ear.

"She didn't deserve to be treated like that. Stay away from her. Don't talk to her. Don't even look at her. Hurt her again and you will pay." Angels voice was dangerously low. Pulling Oz's head back he again slammed it into the side of the van. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," Oz gulped, tears of pain and fear leaking from his eyes. Suddenly he was alone. Fumbling he got in the van, locked the doors and headed home.


***


Angel breathed deeply, inhaling her smell. "You're wearing a new perfume?"

"What?" Willow looked up at him and smiled. "Oh, no, no - it's a balm I got it in New...New York."

She offered him her wrist, silently scolding herself for almost saying New Orleans.

"Suits you," Angel stated. They were barely a block from her house. He had offered to walk her home after Giles decided to call it a night "Sorry about Oz."

Willow remained quiet for a moment, an uneasy feeling sweeping through her. "I...I really don't want to talk about it - it's nobodies business. What happens between Oz and I should just concern us, no one else."

"Alright, let's talk about Spike then," Angel offered.

"You don't believe me, do you?" she knew it was a stupid question because she was certain that Angel didn't.

"Should I?" Angel asked.

"Please Angel, we've done this before. We don't need to do it again."

"Don't we? You're probably right there, what with Dru back I doubt it if he would even notice anyone else, unless he wanted to use them." Angel chose his words carefully, they were packed with malice and cruel intent to play on her weaknesses. He hated himself for what he was saying but he was hoped that it would keep her from harm. "I mean he worships her, loves her unconditionally - it's always been like that and nothing will ever change the way he feels about her. I would even hesitate to say he loves her more than I love Buffy. Why would he want you, Willow?"

They were walking up her pathway when Angel said that, it was a question he hoped would gall her into answering. Glancing down he took in her glassy eyes and trembling bottom lip and at that moment he knew he had gone too far. Pale and drawn, he knew that the confrontation with Oz had taken it's toll and that he had just added to her despair by declaring that she was a poor alternative or nothing more than a pawn in game that Spike would play. Silently he vowed he would do whatever he could to keep her, protect her, and stop her from being hurt. "Goodnight Willow, sleep well."

He leant forward and brushed his lips across her forehead before turning away and leaving her on the doorstep.

***

Willow sat on the floor by her bed, her knees drawn up to her chest with her arms wrapped tightly around her legs. She had been like that for hours, ever since Angel had left her, she had just been sitting there staring into the darkness. She knew that Angel was right about Spike and his feelings for Drusilla. If anyone knew Spike it was Angel. Angel had made him, shaped him into the vampire he was today. If Angel was right about his childes love for Dru he was probably right in his assumptions about Spike using her - after all he had said as much in the library that time.

"Call it a distraction love," Spike had said.

Was it that? Willow wasn't sure but she remembered the jest of it. That she was a distraction until Dru came back and now Dru was here in Sunnydale. Burying her head in her knees she rocked silently for a moment. Part of her was screaming that she wasn't a distraction, couldn't be a distraction not after everything that had passed between them. But then her rational side would kick in...if she was important to him, if he did care for her why wasn't he there? Lifting her head she glanced at the clock, just past three in the morning. There was still time, he could still come. With that thought in mind she waited, rocking herself until the sun made it's daily appearance.

He hadn't come.

***

"Hey Willow," said Buffy sitting down next to her friend in the warm sunshine. "How you doing?"

"Okay," Willow replied taking an interest in her shoe.

"I've missed you...Willow I'm so sorry about you and Oz. I really thought that you two were meant for each other," Buffy said looking at Willow's pale face and dark ringed eyes, she knew that it must have been difficult for the redhead. To find your boyfriend having cheap flings, worse still to actually walk in while he was having the cheap fling, it made Buffy shudder in disgust. "If there's anything I can do, you know, I am here for you."

"Thanks Buffy. I'm okay, really," she shifted slightly. "So how's things been here? Did I miss anything exciting?"

"I don't know, I think something's going on with Angel. He seems really distant lately." Buffy shrugged.

"Well he is the original brood guy," Willow glanced at her friend whose face was twisted into a huge pout. "Oh Buffy, Angel loves you - you know that."

"Do I? He's been so strange since Drusilla came back. She wants him you know, she said that he would be with her. Do you think he would? I mean she seemed pretty certain that they were going to...well you know."

"Drusilla," Willow sighed. "I mean what is so fantastic about her? What would he see in her? Okay her figure...if you go in for that emancipated consumption type. She has beautiful hair...and her skins like porcelain and not to forget her really awesome cheekbones. Yeah, so those things are good. But I mean she's insane! What kind of relationship could you have? I guess though there is the sex. I mean what is a few months experience compared to over a centuries?"

"I don't think this is really helping Will," Buffy hiccupped almost in tears.

"Oh, oh, OH! Buffy I'm sorry I didn't mean...well I was just you know, being me and rambling...kind of got lost in a list of good and bad. Angel doesn't love Drusilla, he loves you Buffy."

"But that's the thing - he could have sex with her and nothing, no big happy but at least he'd be satisfied."

"No Buffy, Angel wouldn't do that. Not ever." Willow looked at her friend. How had the conversation gone from her pain into yet another 'look at me, poor Buffy' exchange. < Things never change. > "You know what we need to do Buffy?"

Buffy looked at Willow and forlornly shook her head.

"We need to go shopping. Right now." Willow stood up and grabbed her bag and headed toward the school gates. Buffy opened her mouth and shut it before grabbing her own bag and following her.

"Don't you think a chocolate binge and sad movies would be better...and actually Will probably even waiting until after class?" Buffy asked falling into step next to Willow.

"No, I don't want to cry anymore and I want to buy some clothes. We can get class notes off Xander." Willow rationalised.

"Wow, we have a plan of action." Buffy stated.

Hours and hundreds of dollars later found Willow sitting in the waiting area of Sunnydales' most exclusive hairdressers. Buffy had a previous appointment but unfortunately there wasn't a spare one for Willow, so she was stuck waiting for Buffy to have her "usual".

"Well are you finally gaining some class and getting a proper hairstyle instead of that pathetic bowl cut your mother gives you?" Cordelia scowled at Willow.

< Oh great. Cordelia Chase, just what I don’t need. > Willow thought. "I tried but they don't have any appointments free."

"So you just decided to hang out in the waiting room trying to get some credentials? Because believe me it won't work."

"No, I am waiting for Buffy to get her hair..."

"You'll be here for hours," sniped Cordelia. "Takes a lot of bleach to get that natural bottle blonde look she sports. You really should do something with your hair while she's here - no use wasting time sitting when they could be cutting."

"I told you they don't have any appointments."

"ALEX!" screamed Cordelia, causing Willow to jump. A perfectly groomed, stunning and undoubtedly gay hairdresser was at her side in moments, air kissing her to death.

"Cordelia, darling," he smiled at her. "Gorgeous as always."

"Oh please enough with the flattery, you are paid to keep my hair not my ego. This is..." Cordelia paused for a moment to look at Willow, she wasn't about to call her friend. "This is Willow. She's in desperate need of a haircut - other than...that."

Willow scowled at Cordelia and her rudely pointing finger. Smoothing down her hair she was about to protest but found she couldn't get a word in edgewise as Cordelia continued.>

"Now of course I know you are the best person to help her...I mean that is your job and it is why I come to you and only you. So you can work on her upstairs while I have my usual treatment." Said Cordelia grabbing Willow's arm and dragging her up the stairs to the "VIP" department of the exclusive hairdressers - somewhere Buffy had only dreamed of going.

"But my shopping," Willow wailed in protest.

"Someone will bring it up." Cordelia said shoving her into a chair and dropping a handful of hairstyle magazines in her lap. "Pick something...actually let me pick something..."

"No thank you - I am perfectly capable of choosing a suitable hairstyle," Willow huffed as she started to flick through the magazine. Moments later she found herself in deep discussion with Cordelia on the merits of the various hairstyles and colours.

A colour bath, cut and deep conditioning treatment later Willow was starting at her own reflection. "Wow."

"Wow," repeated Cordelia. Turning to Alex she smiled. "Good job! I would never have recognised her."

It wasn't true. The usual bob had been layered, the back still held it's length but the front had been cut into soft short layers to frame her face, the first layer fell just below her eyes. The colour was the biggest difference the once coppery red locks were now a deep rich red which emphasised her pale skin and green eyes.

"It suits you," Cordelia said truthfully. While Willow had been held prisoner in the hairdressers chair Cordelia had gleefully gone through the bags of clothes Willow had bought. To say she was surprised was an understatement. It was obvious that Buffy had no say in the clothes that had been bought - they were classically stylish, not the sluttish style that Buffy was so fond of or the usual fluffy outfits that were associated with the redhead. When she questioned Willow about them she had shrugged and said she had needed new clothes and that she wanted something she liked. Cordelia couldn't believe that she was finally showing some spunk. "Unfortunately it doesn't suit those."

Cordelia pointed at the baggy overalls and sneakers Willow was wearing. Standing up Willow looked at her reflection and nodded.

"Definitely doesn't suit. Is there somewhere I could change?" she asked Alex, who directed her to a small change room in the corner. She grabbed a few of her bags and disappeared from view. Cordelia smiled to herself.

"Alex, make sure that whenever Willow comes in that you give her your full attention." Cordelia twirled around and collected her things before moving back downstairs. At the reception desk she paid not only for her haircut but also for Willow's. "Tell her it's a coming out gift."

As she turned to go she caught a glimpse of Buffy waiting on the lounge flicking through a magazine. "Better watch out slayer I think your meekly little friend is about to steal your thunder in the looks department...she certainly has better taste."

Without waiting for a reply Cordelia Chase walked out of the hairdressers thinking that her actually enjoying Willow's company was merely a hairdressing fluke. As she approached her car a hand shot out and grabbed her arm.

"HEL," she began to scream turning to face her attacker. Rolling her eyes in disgust she pulled her arm away. "Do you always have to be so stealthy Angel? A simple 'hello' would have been sufficient rather than trying to scare me to death."

"Have you seen Buffy or Willow?" Angel asked. "They're missing."

"No they're not." She said angrily getting into her car. "They are in the hairdressers, actually they are probably wandering around the mall spending more money right now."

Without a word Angel slammed the car door shut and walked towards the mall.

"You're welcome! Men! Honestly who needs them?" Cordelia muttered to herself as she drove off.

Angel wandered through the mall, there were a scattering of people but it was relatively quiet. He caught a glimpse of Buffy trying on shoes and started to head towards her bumping into someone on the way. Gently grabbing the girl by the shoulders to keep her upright he muttered an apology before continuing toward Buffy. He stopped. Turning back around he looked at the girl he had just bumped, took a step toward her and inhaled deeply. The smell of hair spray and other hair products were dominant but beneath it was the unique smell of Willow. Angel looked at the girl who was directly in front of him. It couldn't be Willow. The hair was darker, she was wearing tailored black linen pants with a form fitting shirt and black suede loafers.

"Willow?" Angel drew his body back slightly when the girl turned around and the familiar face confronted him, soft layers framing her green eyes.

"Hi Angel," she said, struggling to control the bags of shopping she was holding. "Buffy's over there."

"Where have you two been? Giles was worried sick!" Angel said, still shocked from the change in her appearance.

"We just wanted to go shopping..." Willow stated frowning at Angel's glowering form.

"Shopping? You just left without telling anyone where you were going," Angel sounded like a parent scolding a child who had run off. "Giles has been frantic."

"Doesn't matter, Giles will get over it," said Buffy walking up to them.

"That's not the point Buffy, anything could have happened to you two."

"We live on a Hellmouth, 'anything' is an everyday occurrence. Don't expect us to put our lives on hold for that," Willow stated calmly to Angel before turning her attention to Buffy. "So are you going to get the shoes?"

"No, they don't have them in my size. Guess I better call the keeper," Buffy shrugged and started to walk towards a payphone to call Giles.

Willow sat down on a bench to wait. She shifted slightly as Angel sat next to her. Sighing she rearranged her shopping bags to rest against her legs as Buffy chatted on the phone rolling her eyes at whatever Giles was saying. Turning her head she glanced up at Angel, only to find him staring at her.

"What?" she asked.

"What what?" Angel asked breaking his gaze.

"You were staring," she stated.

"Uh, no I wasn't," he denied.

"Yes you were. Or would you perhaps prefer to call it gazing, gaping, gawking, ogling or watching? Take your pick - because you were definitely doing it." Willow said with a hint of laughter in her voice and a small smile on her lips. "It's rude to stare and you should know that, especially at your advanced years."

"You changed your hair," Angel said.

"Oh my god," Willow's face crumpled, one hand reached up to tug at the dark red locks. "Nobody told me that!"

Angel watched as she laughed at her own dramatics and couldn't help but laugh with her.

"You are becoming a master at stating the obvious. I wanted a change. So," she shook her head, causing her hair to fly about her face. "Do you like it?"

"It's..." Angel looked at her flushed face, smiling lips and sparkling eyes. She was happy with it, with herself, it was the first time in weeks that she actually looked comfortable. "It's really nice, very you."

"Well flattery will get you everywhere," she laughed again as Buffy came over.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Angel likes my hair," Willow giggled.

"Well he'll like what I bought much better," said Buffy smiling wickedly. "Giles said there's no point researching tonight - he's with someone, or something, or whatever, he doesn't want us there. But we have to go tomorrow, straight after classes! So...now what do we do?"

"I have no idea," said Willow as Buffy sat down next to Angel on the bench.

"I could model what I bought?" suggested Buffy, smiling at Angel, raising her eyebrows suggestively. "My clothes, if you like, back at the mansion."

"Great idea and Willow can show me what she bought," said Angel looking at the redhead whose eyes widened in horror at the thought.

"Oh no, you two go - let Buffy model, she's much better suited to it. I think I might just head on home, you know catch up on those classes I missed," Willow stood up and started to gather her bags. Angel reached out and took several of them from her.

"Nonsense we'd love your company. Buffy can model what she bought...it'll be fun," Angel said, unaware that Buffy was shaking her head behind him and mouthing 'no'.

"Oh, that's really nice of you to offer, but I can't - like I said I have homework to do," Willow smiled trying to take back the bags. He firmly held on to them.

"What are you going to do? Go home to an empty house? Come with us, Buffy has to patrol later and I can walk you home then," Angel turned and began walking towards the exit. Willow pulled a 'what now?' face at Buffy as they followed the departing vampire.

"I'm sorry Buffy," Willow whispered as they walked behind Angel. Buffy just smiled and shrugged.

"It's okay, I have to patrol so we can spend some time together then," she looped her arm through Willow's as they walked along. "Anyway, like he said we love your company." Buffy looked at the vampire walking in front of them. "And this way I get to watch his ass."

The girls broke into a fit of giggles.

"I heard that," growled Angel as he moved through the door of the mansion.

"Outfit number one coming up." Giggled Buffy taking her bags into Angel's bedroom to change.

Willow sat down on the huge leather couch and picked up one of the many books that were scattered about. It was Nietzsche's "Thus Spoke Zarathustra". Glancing at the other books scattered about she noted a few novels by Camus and Sartre. < Trust Angel to be into the whole existentialist movement! No wonder he is so good at the brood thing. >

"Thanks for inviting me," Willow said as she flicked through the Nietzsche.

"Not a problem. You shouldn't be by yourself, especially with your parents gone," Angel said leaning back against the fireplace to watch her.

Willow looked up at him. She hadn't mentioned that her parents were absent Although it wasn't unusual for them to be away and Angel would have noticed the lack of lights in the house the previous evening when he'd walked her home. Willow gave him a half smile. "He was mad you know?"

Angel gave her a puzzled look. "What?"

"Nietzsche. Syphilis," Willow said holding up the book. "Scary thought - one of the great genius of our times, the father of existential philosophy, was in fact quite insane. Maybe it's the madness we find inspiring and not the intelligence?"

Willow suddenly found herself staring into Angel's dark eyes, into the soul of the complex man who stood before her. Everything that he was could be found there and Willow could see it all. Guilt, innocence, anger, serenity, hatred, love, fear, loathing, wanting, obsession, madness - all the states of mind and emotion you could imagine were visible in the deep pools of colour. The intensity of the gaze was hypnotic and she felt truly frightened by what she saw but the arrival of Buffy in a micro mini allowed her to pull away, to pull back from him.

"Outfit number one!" announced Buffy, holding her hands up so that the skirt rose even higher and her knickers were clearly visible.

The next hour was spent with the girls "modelling" their various purchases, giggling at each other, teasing Angel and doing typical things that most normal teenagers take for granted. With the need to patrol, Buffy reluctantly changed and started out. Angel walked Willow home, bidding her goodnight before disappearing into the night.

On her arrival home Willow spent the rest of the evening fooling around on the net, checking emails, sending emails and waiting. Waiting for someone who never showed up.

***

"I don't believe this," Buffy stated slamming her book shut. "Hours and hours of research and what for? Nothing, a big fat zero."

"Yes, I have to agree with you Buffy," Giles said, pushing away his volume and glancing at the group gathered around the table. "There are no prophecies, legends or anything vis-à-vis fire that could possibly concern Spike. I believe we may have been too eager in our assumptions regarding Drusilla's knowledge."

"Great, so she was just doing the usual 'I'm a raving ho' hear me roar bit. What now?" Buffy sniped.

"Well, I don't think we can do anymore tonight. You might as well go home." Giles stated, picking up the scattered books from the table.

"Home?" Buffy frowned. "Nine o'clock on Friday night and you are suggesting we go home? I am putting forward another proposal - The Bronze?"

"Oh, I don't know Buffy. I think I might just go home." Stated Willow, pushing back the layers of hair that framed her face, only to have them fall back again.

"I'm sorry Willow," Buffy said, a look of concern crossing her face as she realised that Oz and the band would be playing. "I didn't even think about...well we could go somewhere else. What about ice cream?"

"No, honestly Buffy it's okay. Go to The Bronze and have a good time. I'm tired and I just want to go home." Willow insisted smiling at Buffy. It was true, she hadn't really slept since that first night she had gotten back.

"Well we'll walk you home then," said Angel.

"No, no, I'll be fine, you two should go and enjoy yourselves." Willow said, gathering up her things. Angel took her backpack from her.

"We'll walk you home and then we can go out after," Angel glanced at Buffy. "Right Buffy?"

"Yeah," Buffy said quietly, Angel seemed so protective of Willow lately; it tore at her. He had spent more time with Willow in the past three nights than he had with her. Last night he didn't even help out with her patrol, saying that there was something he needed to do. But at least tonight they would be spending some time together. "We'll walk you home."

Bidding Giles goodnight after Buffy asked him to tell Xander of their plans when he got back from the now useless donut run, the threesome headed out into the dark night, Angel walking between the two girls, making their conversation somewhat difficult so the walk was made in silence. That was until vampires attacked them.

"Willow," Buffy said quietly as she took up her fighting stance warily eying the 6 vampires starting to circle them. "Run now!"

Willow didn't have to be told; she was already backing away when the fighting started. Her eyes widened in horror as a vampire dashed towards her. Biting her bottom lip she stood her ground her hands bawled into fists before her. She scrunched her face up and waited for the vamp to attack. All of a sudden he stopped, looked at her closely, raised his hands in the air and turned back to the main fight.

< Well I must just look like a person not to be fooled with. > thought Willow in surprise. < Must be the hair. Gee Cordelia was right maybe I should listen to her more oft… >

Her thoughts were shattered as an arm wrapped around her waist, firmly trapping her arms to her sides, and another hand covered her mouth. She was pulled back into a hard body before being dragged backwards, away from the brawling vampires and the turned backs of her friends.

Struggling violently she kicked out against her kidnapper, tears of rage and fear welling in her eyes. The strangle hold on her body tightened making it impossible for her to move. With all the strength she could muster she flung her head back colliding with her attackers with an almighty crack. It achieved nothing other than leaving her with a throbbing ache.

"Come on pet you are going to damage us both if you keep this up."

***

< Spike? > Willow knew the voice, knew the body, knew the scent - but why the hell was he dragging her off in the middle of the night? "Shmphycke?"

"What?" he spun her around before releasing his hold.

"Spike?" she repeated the question in dazed confusion.

"You've forgotten me already?" he pouted at her. "And here I am thinking I was special."

His laugh rumbled through his chest as he grabbed her hand and started to lead her away into the night.

"What are you doing?" Willow pulled away from him. Spike stopped and turned to look at her. "What Friday night rolls around and your bored so you need a distraction?"

"I wanted to see you pet," he stated simply.

"See me? So you arrange a little kidnapping? You know you have an invitation to my house," she said, irritation creeping into her voice. She didn't know whether to throw herself at him or slap him. "I mean this, although a brilliant way to literally sweep a girl off her feet, isn't necessary."

"It was the only way I could get to you."

"I'm not here at your beck and call you know. I have a life. You have no business coming and dragging me away just because you're bored."

"Life? And what exactly were you going to do tonight Willow?" he purred at her, tilting his head to the side. "Going out with your friends? Hmm? Come on, they were walking you home where they would leave you by yourself. Alone. If that's what you want...fine."

He turned and started to walk away.

"Two nights and nothing," she said quietly to herself. He stopped. "Not a word, nothing. Do you know how I felt?"

Slowly he turned to face her once more. "I like your hair."

Looking at him she shook her head slightly and dropped her eyes to the pavement. He moved in front of her and cupped her chin with his finger to make her look at him.

"Brings out your eyes," he said thoughtfully as he ran his thumb across her lips. "Come with me?"

She nodded her acceptance and entwined her fingers in his.

***

Willow looked at the quiet alleyway Spike was leading her into. They were in the heart of Sunnydale, in an area that had been the "good" part of town a few decades back. Now the older style buildings that were once offices and apartments were largely vacant. A few were still used for their original purposes some had been changed into recording studios and storage areas while others were just abandoned after their owners had passed on.

"What are we doing here?" Willow asked as Spike pulled her into a dark doorway illuminated only by an electronic keypad that was next to a huge door.

"Enter the year you were born then the hash key," he whispered in her ear. Once the number was entered the sound of a bolt moving backwards rang through the quiet night air. Spike leant forward, twisted the doorknob and walked Willow into a small entrance area that was dimly lit. He stopped them in front of elevator doors and another keypad. "Do it again pet."

The doors silently opened and Spike pushed Willow in before pressing the up arrow. Leaning back against the wall he watched as she fiddled quietly while the lift made the short journey. The doors once more opened and he smiled at the sound of Willow's gasp. Taking her hand he led her out onto the polish wooden floor of the apartment. He turned her captured hand over letting his thumb caress the palm and he couldn't help but smile as her fingers curled around his thumb.

"Fancy it love?" he asked, carefully watching her. It was priceless. Her eyes were wide in shock, her mouth was open and her cheeks were flushed. She was staring directly ahead of her and hadn't even taken in anything else.

It was a piano. A baby grand piano with its top open. It wasn't one of the new black woods so shiny it hurts kind - it was a golden brown wood, it could have been walnut, but that wasn't important. It was a piano that had been crafted by skills that had been lost a good century ago. Beyond the piano was an archway, framed by a myriad of stained glass, which opened into a dining room with a long table, the chairs of which rested in the corners of the room a few scattering about the table. At the end of the table, furtherest from Willow, was a laptop computer sitting on a bed of felt. As her eyes drew away from that first view she started to take in other details of her surroundings. The floors were polished wood, dark timbers with lighter golds and reds working patterns. Huge bay windows were to her left, deep burgundy and purple curtains were pulled away leaving the windows bare as they stretched from floor to ceiling. Turning away from the windows Willow glanced about the room they were in. It was huge, not just in width and length but also in height. Three sofas littered the floor, although they were large they looked tiny in relation to the room, two wing chairs and footrests kept them company. Again they were made from similar colours as the curtains, deep rich burgundy and purples. Nestled amongst the semi circle they made was a low wooden chest on castors masquerading as a coffee table.

Willow walked away from Spike, her hand slowly breaking free from his caress, as she moved deeper into the room. The change of position let her take in a large entertainment unit set into the wall, made of similar wood to the floor, it held a large screen TV, video and top of the range stereo system. A number of CDs were arranged on some of the shelves. She ran her hands along the soft material of the wing chair she was clinging to.

"Fancy it love?" Spike stepped in behind her as he repeated the question.

"What is this place? Is this where you live?" Willow didn't look at him; she was too busy scanning the area. Another archway the same as the one separating the dining room was at the other end of this massive room. Idly she wondered what was beyond that stain glass archway. The soft rumble of his voice distracted her thoughts.

"It's yours Willow," he purred her name.

"What?!" she asked astonished. Lifting her hand to his lips he kissed it gently before leading her into the semi circle of furniture. He walked away from her for a moment to turn the stereo on so music softly played.

"Do you like it? It has everything you ever wanted," he said quietly, walking back to her and capturing her hand. She looked around the room again, this time noticing huge wrought iron candlestick holders in each of the four corners of the room. They were fully stocked with candles but not lit. The room, the furniture, everything was as she had described to Spike in New Orleans. But there were things, such as the older style piano and the wooden floors, which she had really never thought of until now. "It's yours, a place to come when you need to be alone. When you want to escape. Somewhere to be you."

Willow stood in stunned silence. Her eyes searching his face, trying to gain some understanding of what he had said.

"Why?" she asked softly.

Spike looked at her for a moment, narrowing his eyes and pursing his lips. "Why what pet?"

"Why are you doing this?" she asked outright. Biting her bottom lip in frustration she wrenched her hand out of his grasp and took a few steps away from him. "What do you want from me?"

"I don't want anything from you, pet. Nothing that you haven't already given to me." He stated calmly holding out his hand to her. "Come on, don't you want to see the rest?"

Spike grinned and cockily raised an eyebrow. Sighing Willow took his offered hand. She was sick of him answering her questions with replies that told her nothing. As they walked through the second archway she scowled and practiced shooting imaginary stakes at his back. She didn't see the room they were heading for until they stopped at the base of a few stairs and he stepped aside.

"Oh my," she exclaimed. Before her was a bedroom, a bedroom her wildest fantasies couldn't have provided. A huge wrought iron four poster bed was set up in the middle of the room, a deep green and gold silk organza canopy framed the bed and continued to wrap loosely around each of the posts to form a pool of colour about the base, a deep green damask quilt covered the bed and a horde of pillows were built up at the bed head which was wrought iron worked into a design of entwined roses. Either side of the bed was a small table with the same design as the bed.

Walking up the three steps Willow took in the rest of the room. In each corner there were wrought iron candlestick holders each framed by mirrors worked in the same fashion of the stained glass archways. Two squat lounge chairs sat either side of the stairs. As she moved into the room she caught sight of an open doorway leading into a huge bathroom worked with deep green marble and gold trimmings. Another door led off the room but was closed. Walking over she opened it to reveal a huge walk in closet that was full of clothes. The type of clothes she had recently bought. She turned back to look at Spike who was still standing at the base of the steps. Smiling he turned and started to walk away.

"Spike?" Willow questioned, shutting the closet door and moving to follow him. By the time she caught up with him he was back at the elevator.

"There's a security system, the codes are written down for you. You'll be perfectly safe here." He handed her a piece of paper before reaching out to the button for the lift. Willow grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Where are you going?" she asked

"It's yours, you are free to come and go. I'll only come here if you want me to."

"But why are you leaving?" she asked.

His only answer was to reach out towards the button again. She grabbed his hand.

"Please Spike, don't leave me alone," she begged him. "Stay with me?"

"Do you really want me to Willow?" he asked softly his blue eyes piercing hers.

Anger flashed through her. Releasing his hand she turned away from him confused and frustrated.

"I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't." she stated walking away. She stopped in front of the entertainment unit pretending to be interested in the CD's stacked there. Glancing at Spike she rationalised it was early for him; he probably had things to do and just wanted to leave. "Go, it doesn't matter what I want."

She closed her eyes and listened to the music that was softly playing, she could feel the tears welling up behind those closed eyes. Silently she vowed that she would wait until after he left, then she would leave and never come back again. No matter how much she liked the apartment. Or the idea of her own sanctuary. Or the freedom it offered. Or the mere fact that Spike had done it all for her. She was kidding herself. Even if she never saw him again she would value this gift forever and at that moment she hated him for it.

"Dance with me?" It was quiet, a mere echo of a whisper and Willow wasn't even sure she heard it. But there was no doubting the feel of his hands making their way down her arms to take her hands. Opening her eyes she swallowed back her tears as he pulled her into his arms and led her out in a waltz. Revelling in the movement and feel of the dance, Willow forgot everything for the moment. She let her fingers trace small circles on the leather of his duster and he pulled her closer and slowed their movements to a rocking motion. Laying her head against his shoulder she rocked with him, enjoying the feel of his body, of his hand caressing her back, his cheek resting against her head. It was nice, it was comfortable but she wanted more.

Slowly she tilted her head back to capture his lips. It was a hesitant kiss, she didn't know if it was what he wanted, but it was what she needed. She let the tip of her tongue trace the lines of his lips. Smiling she felt him open his mouth for her, his own tongue darting out to meet hers. She pulled back from him, the smile still playing on her lips. She bought her hand up to caress his face, her fingers running across his mouth. Leaning forward she let her mouth hover a few millimetres from his again she darted out her tongue and then pulled back as he tried to claim her mouth.

She giggled. He growled lightly and she raised her eyebrows as she ran her hands along his chest. Pushing at his duster she forced it back off his shoulders and down his arms as he released her for a moment. As the duster fell to the floor his arms wrapped back around her and she sighed. Leaning forward she caught his lips, no teasing flicks of her tongue, just a demand that he willing responded to. His hand tangled in her hair as their tongues danced together, his other hand pressed in the small of her back urging her impossibly closer. Willow finally pulled back from the kiss and rested her head against his shoulder again as they continued to slowly move together.

"Spike, stay with me?" she whispered, almost frightened that he would say no.

"For eternity, Willow."

She smiled against his shoulder. Running her hand along his back she delighted in the feel of his muscles moving. Lifting her head up she again sought his lips, the sweet taste of his tongue and mouth. She let her hands wander to his chest, rubbing at the material of his shirts, before letting one hand drop down to his jeans. He sighed into her mouth and pushed against her hand as her fingers brushed teasingly against his growing erection.

Smiling she pulled back from him, breaking all contact and stepped out of his arms. "Do you want me?"

"Always Willow."

Grinning wickedly she slowly began to inch away from him. Smirking he strode forward to take her only to have Willow squeal and dash away from him to head toward the bedroom. She had reached the archway when she felt Spikes arm encircle her waist, the other grabbed her knees and lifted her up. Giggling in delight she wrapped her arms about his neck and kissed him softly on the lips before feathering kisses along his jaw and neck as he carried her to the bedroom. He tossed her onto the centre of the bed, his hands ripping her shoes off before sitting down on the edge to take off his own. Watching him carefully Willow began to move back on the bed. She gasped when she felt one of his hands grab her ankle. He turned around and smiled at her before standing up and taking off his shirts. Willow sighed as his chest was bared to her; she loved the paleness of it, the pink hard nipples.

With his smile still in place Spike began to crawl up the bed. Willow giggled again and moved back to prop herself up on the vast mountain of pillows. Pushing her knees apart he crawled between them and up over her body before he claimed her mouth in a hard and demanding kiss, his tongue seeking hers to dance. Willow's hands held him to her she wanted to loose herself in him. He broke the kiss and pulled her top off, dropping his head to suckle first one nipple then the other, thoroughly saturating the silk of her bra. Moaning lightly she pushed herself into his mouth, one hand holding his head to her while the other was kneading his back. She wrapped a leg around him, their hips had started moving against each other, thrusting gently, hinting at what was to come. She was loosing sense of time and everything, all she cared about were the sensations he was creating. Rolling her head back she groaned loudly as her bra was tossed aside and fingers delved into the wet material of her knickers. Fumbling blindly her hands found the zipper and button of his jeans and easily freed his hard erection. She began to stroke him firmly in imitation of the rhythm his fingers were teasing her with.

"Willow," he rumbled as he buried his face in her neck. Suddenly he pulled back off her causing her to whimper in protest. Freeing himself of his jeans he ripped off Willow's skirt and nickers in one swift movement. Pausing for a moment he drank in her naked body, his eyes taking in every detail. Willow began to tremble under that gaze, she felt like she was on fire. "Do you want me?"

Spike repeated her earlier question.

"Always Spike." Willow said.

Grinning he made his way up her body, tracing a path with his tongue before taking her mouth with a bruising kiss. Willow shifted beneath him impatiently, wrapping her legs about him and writhed against him, frustrated. Just as she was about to beg he thrust deep inside her making her gasp. There was nothing tender about this. It was hard and animalistic and Willow loved it. Over and over again he would thrust deep and hard into her. She was clinging to him, her own hips undulating to meet the thrusts, her pale body soon became slick with sweat and her nails dug deeply into his back leaving deep scratches and welts. Screaming his name Willow came.

Gasping for breath she was still riding the high of her orgasm. Everything seemed strange and numb. Something was calling to her. Her mind seemed to be in a stupor. She could feel Spike fucking her and was aware from his erratic movements that he was close. She was wrapped tightly about him, her legs and arms. Dragging her fingers down his back she turned her head, lowered her mouth and bit into his shoulder, hard and deep.

"Fuck!" he hissed, as he slammed them into the bed head. His arm around Willow's waist protected her from the force of the blow and she continued to draw his blood, unaware of the effect it was having on him. With a final thrust he came, moaning her name. His free hand stroked her hair as he eased them lower on the bed.

Willow began to feel light headed, her legs fell away from him and her arms, although still wrapped around him, loosened their hold. She could hear him growling softly. The taste of his blood flooded her mouth and she realised that she had bitten him, realised that she was still biting him, realised that she couldn't let go. Through the haze of confusion she heard him calling to her.

"Willow, that's enough." Spike murmured pulling her hair lightly. Shifting lightly Spike continued to stroke her hair, his fingers brushing across her face and her closing eyes. "Go to sleep love."

***
Drusilla watched from the shadows as Angel dusted yet another bloodied and beaten vampire. Long ago he had left Buffy at her house and was now going on a personal crusade.

"Why Angel," Drusilla whispered stepping in front of the dark vampire. "Such passion...such destruction...you really don't know your own strength...or weakness."

"Drusilla," Angel hissed through clenched teeth, his anger and frustration rising.

"Lost something love?" she sung at him. "Of course you can't loose something you never had..."

"What do you want?" he growled.

"You use to promise me the world," Drusilla smiled at him before dropping her gaze to his chest, one pale hand reaching out to stroke him. "You were always so full of promises..."

"Dru I..." Angel words died as Drusilla bought a dagger across his face, cutting deep along his cheekbone before continuing it's downward journey, dragging across his chest shoved in to the hilt, thankfully it wasn't a large blade. He gasped in shock, clutching at his chest and forcefully pushing her away. "Dru!"

She dropped the dagger and lunged at him, knocking him flat on his back before straddling him, her hand and dainty fingers clutching at the blood pouring from the wound. Fascinated by the dark flow of rich blood that was soiling his shirt, she rocked on top of him, her mouth open practically drooling at the smell of his blood.

"Oh Angel," she sighed, bringing her fingers up to examine the blood staining them. She twisted her hand, flexing the fingers, hypnotised by the sight of her sire's blood. "So beautiful...you promised me your heart...can I collect now?"

Angel struggled beneath her, his strength seeping away with his blood. She giggled, wriggling around and licked the tip of a bloodied finger.

"Too late...you never had one to give," she ran her hand back along the bloodied cut, covering her hand with the cold blood. "Remember Angel? When you first gave me this?" she licked her palm savouring the taste. "You'd taken me then, marked me, claimed me...you wanted me..."

"Dru what are you doing? I'm sorry..."

"Shush...can't you hear it?" she asked frantically twisting her head away from her sire's face, listening to the surrounding night. Taking the opportunity of the distraction Angel rolled from beneath her, throwing her aside before unsteadily standing, his hands clutching at the gaping wound in his chest.

"Hear what?" he whispered, trying to gather his wits.

"Everything's echoing...repeating..." Drusilla drew herself up on her knees, rocking back and forth holding her bloodied hands in front of her face.

"What's repeating?"

"Everything, the words, the motions..." she let out a strangled cry and twisted her bloodied fingers. The cry turned into laughter as she looked at Angel. "You're too late, my love. Claims been made. What was never yours never will be...blood you can't break, bonds too strong."

Angel's eyes widened in horror at what she was saying, for once he wished he had Spike's understanding of the madwoman kneeling at his feet, the woman he had created. Dropping to his knees he tangled his fist in her dark locks, harshly pulling her head back.

"What are you talking about? Where's Spike?" he demanded.

"Spike...Spike...Spike?" She began to giggle low in her throat. "The fires been lit, burning..." she bought her hands to hover above his chest, her face crumpling into a frown. "Oh...oh, you...burn too...not for me though, not like you use to...no slayer either...not for you this time..."

Frustration built up and he cracked his fisted hand against her temple, sending her crashing to the ground, she let out a muffled cry before the soft laughter returned.

"You've lost what you never had," she giggled crawling to her feet. Twisting her fingers in her gown, she started to whimper. "You've no heart, Angel."

Cursing under his breath he watched her retreating figure. Forcing himself to stand he staggered away into the night.

***

Willow stretched her arm across the coolness of silk. Sighing she opened her eyes to find herself wrapped up in light gold silk sheets that rippled across the vast emptiness of the bed. Rolling onto her back she twisted her head to look in the opposite direction, that side of the bed was also empty, and her eyes wandered to the canopy. Spreading her arms out she smiled a half smile at her inability to touch either side of the bed. Loosing herself in the gold twirls scattered through the green of the canopy of her bed she wondered where Spike was. Since he wasn't in the bed she assumed he had left. The last thing she remembered was Spike telling her to sleep, he must have put her to bed and turned off the lights - the room was in semi darkness, a soft light was creeping up from the lounge room. Curling her legs she bought her hands up to rest near her head as she continued her study of the canopy.

The faint smell of cigarette smoke wafted into the room causing Willow to sit up, pulling the sheet about her. She could see light flickering beyond the archway, casting coloured and distorted shadows into the alcove and bedroom. Crawling to the end of the bed she picked up Spike's abandoned shirt and pulled it on as she quietly walked to the archway. The candles had been lit and the lounge area was bathed in soft multi-coloured light, the yellow flames of the candles were reflected on various coloured mirrors casting soft colours about the room. Hiding behind the archway she snuck a peak around the corner to see Spike at the end of the room, resting an arm against the window and smoking a cigarette.

Taking the opportunity Willow watched him. He was naked except for his snug fitting jeans, which cupped his ass and upper thighs, and his forehead was resting against his arm. The cigarette was held between long pale fingers and was regularly being lifted to his mouth then dropped back down, causing the muscles in his back and shoulders to flex, rippling the faint colours that fell across his pale flesh. His shoulder held her bite mark, slight bruising, punctured flesh but it was already healing. Bringing her fingers up to her lips she felt them tingle at the memory of that bite, of his taste. Smiling lightly she continued to watch, wishing he hadn't put on his jeans, she liked to see him naked, liked to see his pale muscular flesh. She wondered at him still being there, he must have things to do, people to drain and of course...Drusilla. There was an interesting concept. Why was he here when the love of his life was in Sunnydale?

"What are you thinking about love?" Willow jumped at the sound of his voice.

"How did you..."

Spike turned and smirked at her. "I always know where you are."

Willow blushed and walked over to him, encircling his waist and resting her head on his shoulder.

"I'd thought you'd left," said Willow, she ran her fingers softly over his stomach loving the way his muscles tightened under her touch.

"Nah, just having a smoke," he moved slightly, his arm snaking around her shoulders.

"Have I been asleep long?"

"About an hour," he ran his thumb across the dark shadows under her eye and traced the line of her cheek. "You're tired, you need to get some sleep."

Willow shrugged. It was true, she hadn't really slept since that first night when they got back, but it didn't seem important.

"You don't have to stay, you know...I mean if you have things to do..." she faltered under his gaze. "If you are expected somewhere else..."

He kissed her forehead. "I have nowhere to be Willow. No one is waiting on me except you."

"What about Drusilla?" Willow felt him tense in her arms; he raised his cigarette and took a drag before breaking the embrace. He walked a few steps away to an ashtray and stubbed out his butt.

"What about her?" he asked quietly.

Willow stood for a moment. She wasn't really sure of what she was expecting - certainly not a question. Nor such a nonchalant attitude, perhaps anger, perhaps bitterness, but not this.

"What about the wolf?" he asked leaning back against the pillar that separated the windows. His voice was flat and unemotional as was his face.

"We broke up," Willow crossed her arms and looked out the window to the city lit night sky. "I'm not seeing him anymore."

"Well," Spike drawled, moving behind her, his arms circling her waist his chin resting on her head. "Drusilla isn't seeing me anymore...she hasn't for the longest time..."

Willow frowned, his voice had dropped to a whisper at those words and his fingers moved to entwine with hers. She leant back against him, enjoying the cool firmness of his body, and let her thumbs trace patterns on his wrists.

"I think you look better in my shirt than I do," he murmured against her ear as he licked it and nibbled on the lobe. She giggled lightly. His mouth moved from her ear to her neck, savouring the warm flesh before nuzzling the material away to bare her shoulder.

Closing her eyes Willow concentrated on the cool softness of his mouth grazing her skin, she sighed contentedly. All was right with the world, she was here with Spike and Buffy...

"Oh my God! Buffy!" screeched Willow, twisting out of Spike's embrace.

"Erm, actually Spike...but if you want to scream her name," Spike smirked at her before frowning. "Actually it would really put me off my stroke."

Willow rolled her eyes in disgust. "No, she's fighting vampires."

"She's a slayer that's what she does," he shrugged.

"She'll be worried about me. Oh god I have to go." Willow said starting to walk back toward the bedroom. Spike grabbed her arm.

"Willow, you don't have to go,"

"Yes I do, what if she's been trying to contact me? Hmm? What then? I just say 'oh sorry I was off having fantastic sex with my lover - who just happens to be your enemy'?" Willow asked raising her eyebrows in question.

"Your lover? So you are going to keep me then?" Spike smirked, burying his head in her neck and kissing her pulse point.

"Oh, yes...yes, no question there..." Willow said relaxing back into his embrace before pushing him away again. "But not lover now - I have to go, they'll be worried."

"They'll be hours Willow," he said pulling her struggling form back against him. "At least have a bath before we go."

"A bath?" Willow repeated. What was a bath? Just a little longer, wasn't going to make that much difference.

"A bath pet," Spike grinned as he picked her up and carried her off to the bathroom.

Some two hours later they were walking toward Willow's house. She felt like she could crawl into bed and sleep for hours, which was exactly what she was planning to do. The bathroom was like the rest of the apartment. Deep green marble with gold trimming the soft lighting of the room had the effect of making her feel she was underwater. The bathroom held everything a normal one would, a bath (to huge to believe), a shower (with surround spray), toilet and a bidet (something she was sure she would never use, mainly because she didn't have the faintest idea how to). She was surprised by the little extra's scattered about the place - bottles of shampoos and conditioners, hairdryer, brushes, toothbrushes, toothpaste, a bottle of the massage oil she had obtained in New Orleans as well as a large jar of the balm. The bath had been a strange mixture of foreplay, sex and talking. Willow almost forgot why she wanted to leave. Almost.

"I'll let you go love," Spike stopped a few houses down from hers. He captured her lips in a goodbye kiss.

"Aren't you going to walk me to the door?" Willow asked bemused.

"Nah, I want to watch your ass as you walk away," he joked, searching through his pockets for his cigarettes, before sobering up. "Not a good idea - don't want to upset your guardian angel."

"What?" Willow frowned at him. Spike smiled as he lit a smoke.

"Go get some sleep Willow," he took a long drag. "I'll see you tonight, about 10."

Willow nodded and walked away from him, smiling as she felt his gaze on her. Once inside her house she made her way through the darkness to her room. The answering machine showed no messages and she picked up the phone to call Buffy.

"Where have you been?"

Willow jumped, dropping the phone. "Angel?"

"Where have you been?" he repeated the question, his voice low. Willow squinted in the darkness, trying to make out his figure. She could see his shape, sitting near the open French doors. Turning slightly she reached out to flick on the light.

"Angel what are you doing here?" She asked turning back to him. She stopped dead in her tracks. He was sitting on her computer chair, his face bloodied. Rushing over she knelt down in front of him. "Oh my God, Angel, what happened? Are you okay? Is Buffy okay?"

"Where have you been Willow?" Angel repeated the question as he grasped her wrist with enough force to cause her to cringe.

"Angel, you're hurting me," she whimpered, trying to pull her wrist away from him. "I went to a friends, it was closer than coming here."

His eyes searched her face for a moment and she thought he was going to denounce her for the liar she was. Why wouldn't he? He had smelt Spike before, so he would do it again, she was just waiting for him to fly into a fit of rage. His temper, his outbursts were beginning to scare her - they were too intense and she didn't understand the meaning of them.

"Willow I'm sorry," he seemed dazed, his usually steady voice was trembling and faint. "It's just after...I couldn't find you, I didn't know what had happened. I thought I'd lost you."

"It's alright Angel, I'm fine. What about Buffy?"

"She's at home, she's okay," he lied, she had taken a beating but with slayer healing by the morning only a few bruises and stiff muscles would remain.

"What happened to you Angel?" Willow asked, looking at the long deep cut on his face, wondering if this was a result of the run in with the vampires.

"I came to check on you and you weren't here," he grimaced as she bought her hand up to his face. "I tried to find you...guess you could say I ran into some trouble."

Willow felt guilty, she shouldn't have gone with Spike, or she should have rung and left a message to say she was okay. Angel wouldn't have been hurt, wouldn't have gone looking for her. She dropped her eyes, no longer able to stand looking at what she had caused, only to see his hand held against his chest covered in blood. Her eyes flew open in horror.

"Oh God, Angel. You're hurt," she pulled his hand away to reveal his shredded shirt and bleeding chest. Standing up she pulled on his arm. "We have to get you fixed up."

He stood up, swaying slightly and worked his arm around her shoulder. Willow supported him as best she could with her arm about his waist and led him over to sit on her bed. Silently she tugged off his jacket and shirt, wincing at the large bloody gash on his chest. Bruises littered his chest and abdomen, a brief glance at his back showed similar injuries.

"Are you cut anywhere else?" she asked quietly. Her only answer was a shake of his head. She urged him to lie back on her bed. "Stay here, I need to get a few things and I'll be back."

Before leaving her room she shut the French doors and locked them, pulling her heavy curtains across. By the time she had retrieved the first aid kit from the bathroom, a bowl of warm water, towels and washers Angel was unconscious. Sighing she set down her supplies and started to clean away the congealed and dried blood from his wounds. They were deep, although they had stop bleeding; she had put an antiseptic wash in the water even though she knew he couldn't pick up an infection. Once the wounds were cleaned she set about using the small butterfly plasters to close them up. During the whole time she only thought about what she was doing - she didn't want to think of anything else, didn't want to think about what could have happened to Angel. Finishing, she admired her handiwork before removing his shoes and covering him with a quilt. Picking up her silk shorts and top she gathered everything else up and took it to the bathroom. Moments later she returned, having changed into her sleepwear, checked her curtains once more and turned off the light.

"Well, you don't breathe so I guess there is no possibility of you snoring at least," muttered Willow as she crawled into bed next to Angel. As her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness of her room she studied him. She could understand what Buffy saw in him, he was a truly handsome man...poor Buffy what would she have done had Angel been killed? Guilt overwhelmed her. Angel could have died because of her, because he was looking for her. She reached out and ran her fingers lightly through his hair. "I'm so sorry Angel."

She smiled as he leant into her touch, his face turning towards her. Weariness swept over her and she closed her eyes, her hand still cradling his head, her thumb brushing back and forth. Eventually her hand stopped moving as sleep overtook her.

Angel rolled onto his side and opened his eyes to watch her sleep.

***

The doors silently slid open revealing the apartment. It was different to when they had left in the early hours of this morning. Willow stepped out and glanced about. The curtains had been pulled shut blocking out every possibility of the mid morning sunlight entering, but the apartment was dimly lit by tiny slivers of soft light that were set into the edge of the floor. Frowning Willow thought that maybe Spike had come back here but a quick look about showed the place to be empty, although the bed had been made and their abandoned towels had been put on the racks in the bathroom. Perfectly content that she was alone in the apartment she began a thorough inspection. It was better than she had ever dreamed possible - everything was so beautiful and what she wanted down to the last detail. A crystal bowl sat on the coffee table full of Hershey kisses, in the fridge there was Diet Coke and the freezer had a number of crystal wine goblets cooling. She felt so spoilt drinking her coke out of a chilled crystal glass - but she was more than willing to get use to it.

Coke in hand she made her way back to the bedroom and the closet full of clothes. As she worked her way through the clothes her thoughts drifted back to this morning. She had woken a little past six, her curtains were open but the French windows were shut and sunlight bathed the room, alarming her at first. Obviously Angel had left before dawn, otherwise there would be a pile of dust on the floor. As she was struck by that thought she had sat up on her knees for a better view - just checking that there wasn't any lying near the door - relief flooded her when she saw the clean carpet. Although still desperately tired she couldn't go back to sleep so she had decided to come to the apartment. The apartment. Her apartment. Hers. She grinned madly as she opened a drawer in the closet to reveal copious pairs of the soft silk and lace lingerie she had taken to wearing lately. Everything was so soft and delicate - beautiful. The clothes Spike had worn in New Orleans were also there - a subtle blend of leather, cigarettes and purely animalistic male aroma impregnated them and made Willow shiver in delight.

Wandering out of the closet she worked her way back out to the kitchen, noting that the apartment, although beautiful, had been designed with a vampire in mind. The only windows in the whole place were those in the living room and dining room and the heavy drapes ensured that no sunlight would penetrate the rooms. Small lights had been set into the floor, running along each of the walls, so there was soft light illuminating the place. After searching the whole apartment Willow had become acquainted with every nook and cranny, she knew where every single light switch and power point was, she knew what each closet, cabinet and cupboard held. The more she knew about the apartment the more she loved it.

Refilling her glass with coke she grabbed the laptop and took it out to the lounge area. She changed the CD in the stereo and sat down crossed legged on a sofa to have a look at the programs. It had everything she had ever used and a few she had always wanted. Shaking her head in amazement she opened up the file manager to scroll through the various programs. That's when she noticed it. The expression of sheer ecstasy fell from her face. Every program had been installed almost a month ago. She caught her breath in a sharp gasp. A month ago. Slowly she pulled her gaze away from the small screen, scanning the area she was sitting in. There was still the aroma of fresh paint, but it was only faint. She remembered when her parents had repainted the house - it had taken weeks for the smell of paint to fade. A feeling of dread engulfed her. Everything in the apartment was new...but not everything could have been purchased in Sunnydale. The piano, the hand crafted wrought iron, all of it, it would have taken weeks. Weeks, if not months. Spike would have been planning this for months, had people working on it for months. Willow felt her mouth go dry. With shaking hands she shut down the computer and put it on the coffee table. Again she glanced about the room as a desperate fear overtook her, a feeling of panic, a feeling that she had walked into a carefully planned trap. Forcing herself to move she got up and left.

Willow didn't know how long she had been wandering around in dazed confusion when she found herself on Angel's doorstep. At first she had gone to Buffy's, only to find the place empty, so it was natural for her to come here. But now, as she stood there with her hand raised to knock, she hesitated. What would she say to him - hi I've kind of gotten myself in some trouble, it's been going on for weeks and I guess I should have mentioned it before - yes, that would go down well. She lowered her hand and stared at the door. Her thoughts didn't make sense. The great debate was waging war within her mind. On one hand Spike was her lover, her demon lover, who had done nothing more than give her a beautiful apartment filled with gifts that were unique to her. But he had only recently taken on the role of her lover and the details of the apartment meant that he had been watching her getting to know her longer the time he had been with her. That alone led her to think that he could have been manipulating her the whole time, playing with her to get to Buffy and Angel.

"Willow?" her thoughts were interrupted as Buffy opened the door.

"Oh, um hi Buffy."

"What...what are you doing here?"

"Well...I...I...think I'm in trouble. So, what about you?" Willow gave her a half smile and twisted her fingers. < Great Willow, just ask Buffy what she is doing at her boyfriends place. >

"Are you okay? What sort of trouble?" asked Buffy still standing in the doorway.

"Just...it's kind of silly really...you know pretty simple stuff...I hope," Willow didn't realise that she was close to hyperventilating.

"I...Angel was attacked last night, I was just going to get him some more blood. Why don't you come in and wait and we'll talk when I get back. Okay?" Buffy stepped aside to let Willow in. She continued to stand on the doorstep.

"Is he okay?"

"Yeah, managed to get himself home and patched up. He hasn't healed yet, needs more blood thus the mad dash. Come in, you can keep him company, maybe even change the dressings...silly thing won't let me near him." Buffy rolled her eyes in exclamation of the general silliness and stubbornness of sick males before calling out over her shoulder into the darkness of the mansion. "Angel, Will's here. I shouldn't be more than half an hour."

Without further ado Buffy caught Willow's wrist and pulled her into the cool confines of the mansion and closed the door with a bang behind her. Willow waited a moment, her eyes adjusting to the gloom of the interior of Angel's home.

"Willow," Angel spoke softly, standing up and moving a few paces in front of her. She glanced at him, the wound on his face had partially healed but the deep wound on his chest was still gaping and weeping blood, a couple of the butterfly tapes had broken away.

"Angel you really should..." she caught his gaze and quickly broke it, her eyes falling on the first aid kit that Buffy had previously discarded as Angel protested the need for his wounds to be seen to. She caught his arm and urged him back to the couch. "Come on, I might as well make myself useful."

"It's fine...honestly," he started to protest only to be cut off by Willow looking at him with her patented resolve face. She moved forward and slipped her thumbs under the silk of his shirt, pushing it back and off his shoulders before tossing it aside on the couch. Turning back to the first aid supplies she picked up a towel and squeezed out the wet sponge. "I never thanked you for what you did this morning."

Willow turned back to him and smiled, handing him the towel to drape across his lap. "That's okay...I mean that's what friends are for - aren't they?"

"You're more than a friend to me Willow," he said softly and then gasped as she began to sponge away the dried blood from his wound.

"Sorry," whispered Willow, kneeling down before him to get more comfortable as she continued to clean the wound and remove the old tape that was holding it together. She glanced up at him and let a smile tremble on her lips, unsure of what to say. She was certain of one thing - she wanted Buffy there when she told her tale of woe. General conversation would be the best tack for now, although Angel was never really one for conversation. "So, you never told me what happened? Who attacked you?"

Angel glanced down at her, he had heard the conversation between the two girls and he wanted nothing more than to know what was going on with her. Last night she had been evasive, although he hadn't been in the best condition to be tactful in his questioning, but there was definitely something she wasn't telling him and now she had turned up on his doorstep, wanting help. Help with what? He didn't know exactly, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with Spike and that angered him, infuriated him. He grunted and moved away from her fingers as they pressed down on a particularly deep section of his wound. Lightning quick his hand shot out and caught her wrist, stilling her hand. She whimpered in pain as his fingers pressed against the bruises that he had left from his similar treatment in the early hours of that morning.

"Angel?" she questioned watching as he bought her captured hand close to his face and inhaled deeply. His eyes took in the bruising and he released his grip, letting his cool fingers soothe the dark marks.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he whispered and brushed his moist lips over the bruises.

Willow snatched her wrist back and stood up, turning back to the basin of water to rinse out the sponge. Had she just imagined that Angel did that rather intimate act?

"It's okay, I know you didn't mean to..." she squeezed out the sponge, watching as his blood tainted the water. "You were hurt and not in the best state of mind what with blood loss and all..."

< Blood loss! That could explain his behavior. Hey Buffy’s gone to get some more, once he gets a few pints into him he’ll be fine. > thought Willow, giving the sponge a final squeeze. Turning around she held back a gasp as she came face to face with Angel, or rather his chest. She exhaled, sending a soft wave of warmth across his chest, causing his nipples to harden. Bringing a hand up he pushed her hair back from her face, his thumb running across the cheekbone. Willow shook her head and winced at his touch, frowning at the act.

"You should sit back down Angel, so I can finish this," she stated not looking at him.

"Sorry," he murmured, pulling his hand away and moving back down to the couch. Willow stared at the sponge she was twisting in her hands, he was really starting to freak her out.

"So..." she returned to her kneeling position as she sponged at the wound, struggling to find anything that would break the awkward mood that had settled about the room. "Who did this to you?"

"Spike," he lied, watching to gauge her reaction. She stopped her administrations and stared at him, her mouth wide open, the colour draining from her face.

"Spike? But he..." she watched as his eyes narrowed. "Why wouldn't he just kill you and be done with it?"

Willow dropped her head as she grabbed the towel and dried off the wound. This was just getting too confusing for her, she knew that it couldn't have been Spike and she couldn't understand why Angel would lie. But then there was the time that she had been sleeping, an hour - more than enough time for him to slip out...Willow shook her head, it wouldn't have been possible his clothes had still been scattered about the bedroom when she woke up and considering it had taken them half an hour to find one of his boots, which had ended up under the bed, she doubted very much that he had left while she was asleep. Which meant that Angel was lying.

"You know Spike - always playing games. He enjoys hurting people, Willow. It's his life," Angel said nonchalantly. "No pain, no pleasure. He's a demon, a vampire, it's what he does."

Willow began to close up the wound with fresh butterfly tapes, placing them close together ensuring the wound would heal properly. She didn't like where this conversation was going. Certainly she had come here for help, but now Angel was blatantly lying to her and his behaviour toward her was bizarre to say the least. As she fixed the last piece of tape to his chest he again caught her hand in his and raised it to his face, closing his eyes he inhaled deeply.

"That balm, it's sweet. You were wearing it this morning as well," he stated, his thumb rubbing circles on the soft flesh beneath her palm. He opened his eyes and caught her gaze, his brown eyes trying to see into her very soul. "When you wear it I can't smell anything else..."

Willow wrenched her wrist free and stood up, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, I think I've done everything I can here. I should go..." she moved toward the door only to have Angel grip her arm.

"I thought you needed help Willow? Isn't that what you said to Buffy?"

"No, no...it was just a trivial thing...it doesn't matter," she bit her lip, waiting for him to let her go. He didn't.

"You know Willow, if you ever need anything," he moved in closer to her, his fingers brushing across her face. "You can always come to me, no matter what."

"Angel," she whispered, her face marred by a worried frown. "I really have to go."

"Why don't you stay, Willow?" he breathed across her ear, his lips brushing casually against it. Willow wrenched her arm out of his grasp and stepped away from him, inching closer to the door.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, slowly moving away from him. Angel took a step toward her, reaching out but she twisted away from him. Feeling her panic he halted his movement and fixed his eyes on her.

"I just want you to stay here, Willow. Where your safe...with me," he offered. Willow glanced at him warily before shaking her head.

"No, I have to go. Tell Buffy I'll call her later," and with that she left the mansion and headed out into rays of the setting sun.

***

Somehow Willow found herself back at the apartment. She had no understanding of why she had come back. It was only going to play up to Spike - doing what he wanted. Her head throbbed and her body felt heavy. As she walked into the bedroom a wave of nausea hit her, only last night they had been together in the bed. Feeling her stomach lurch she dashed to the toilet, barely reaching it as her body heaved. As she knelt in front of the toilet, still heaving, her mind filled with images from the night - it only made her feel more hopeless. As she spat the remaining vomit into the bowl her eyes widened in terror as she saw remnants of blood. She'd bitten him, consumed his blood, more than what she had just thrown up. Standing on trembling legs she made her way over to the vanity, to splash her face with cool water and rinse out her mouth. She couldn't bring herself to look at her reflection - she didn't want to see the fear and hopelessness that was consuming her. Numbly she made her way to the bed, crawled into a ball and cried herself to sleep.

"Willow," a soft kiss was placed on her temple as cool fingers caressed her fevered flesh, urging her to wake up. Her eyes flew open and she struck out against Spike's hand. Sitting up she inched her way back from him.

Spike straightened up unsure of what had happened. "Willow?"

"Stay away from me!" she hissed.

Spike clenched his jaw as his face hardened into the unemotional facade that Willow had seen so many times when they were together. As he sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze never leaving her, he leant back against the bedpost and let an agitated sigh escape his lips.

"What's going on?" he asked offhandedly.

"How long have you been planning this?" she whispered.

"Planning what love?"

"This...everything! This place it didn't just happen...there is no way you could have done it within a few days - it would have taken weeks."

Spike smiled and leant his head back against the post, his eyes seemingly focusing on the canopy. "Actually months pet."

"Months..." Willow whispered, her breath coming in harsh gasps, her brow furrowed in fear and confusion. She glanced up taking in the sight of him leaning against the post, staring at the canopy, his legs up on the bed, crossed at the ankles. He had abandoned his duster and silk shirt and the muscle in his jaw was flexing, his lips twisted into a half smirk. Slowly she inched off the bed and he lowered his head to watch her. Backing away she kept an eye on him while he remained still and held her gaze. Unable to take the unwavering stare anymore Willow turned and ran. She knew, even before she felt his arms wrapping around her, that it was hopeless. Screaming she threw her head back, not even trying to hold back the flood of tears that escaped her, and struggled wildly in his firm grasp as he continued their forward movement into the lounge room.

"Willow," he growled in her ear. "Stop it."

Suddenly he released her and she fell to the floor, sprawling flat and landing hard enough to knock the wind out of her. Gasping for breath she moved onto her hands and knees only to find herself looking at Spike's boots. She snapped her head back to look up at him.

"Why?"

"Why what pet?"

"Why are you doing this? Why are you using me like this? If you wanted to hurt Buffy and Angel wouldn't it have been better just to kill me?"

His eyes flashed with anger and he squatted down so that his face was level with hers, his blue eyes piercing hers.

"Is that what you think Willow? Do you think that's what I'm doing?"

"What other reason would there be?"

Within a heartbeat his face changed and a snarl escaped from his twisted lips. Standing up he grabbed her arms, lifting her up. With a loud thud and sharp pain radiating from the base of her skull and shoulders Willow found herself thrown and held against the wall.

"Would I have done this if I wanted to fuck with the slayer? Would I waste time and money merely to play with the slayer or my damn sire? Is that what you really think?" his face was level with hers, anger the only emotion visible as he tilted his head to the side. "If I wanted to use you I would've raped you and left your mutilated body on their doorstep. I haven't done this for some whim, for some fancy. I've done this for you."

"Why? Why would you do it for me?"

She cried out as he released his hold on her arms, letting her slide down the wall. As her feet hit the floor she was sure that she would just crumple into a heap but Spike grabbed her arm in a bruising grip and bodily dragged her into the bathroom. Although it was hopeless she struggled against him, whimpering the whole way. Without releasing his hold his free hand grabbed the back of her neck and held her firmly in front of the mirror.

"Don't you see it?"

She stared at her reflection, a face that was pale and tear streaked, green eyes glowing from tears and fear. Spike loosened his grip as she continued to stare, her sobbing breaths echoing about the otherwise silent bathroom. He moved in behind her gently pulling her hair off her face as he released her arm and bought his up to wrap across her chest. Continuing to stroke her hair he watched as she calmed down, as her chest stopped heaving, as the tears stopped falling.

"Do you see it, Willow? Do you see what I see?"

She looked back at the mirror. Her face, under his ministrations, was still pale but reflected tranquillity, a sense of belonging. She shook her head - she didn't want to see this. Didn't want to acknowledge the fact that when he held her she obtained some type of happiness or fulfilment. She felt sick, weary from the stress of the argument, if it hadn't been for Spike standing behind her she probably would have collapsed on the floor.

"Please Spike...I don't understand," she whispered. "What am I meant to see?"

"You," Spike whispered. "As I see you, as you are."

"Why are you doing this?" she whimpered as the tears welled up in her eyes. Lowering her head she began to cry again, harsh sobs that wracked her body. She cried until darkness overtook her. She wasn't sure what happened but she became aware that she was lying face down on the bed while Spike was sitting in one of the chairs, watching her.

"Feeling better love?" he asked coldly. Willow remained still, unsure of what was going to happen. He stood up and she realised that he had put his red silk shirt and duster back on. "Come on I'll walk you home and you'll never see me again."

"No..." she sat up on the bed, the thought of not seeing him again sent a strange tremor through her body. "I don't want that."

"What do you want, Willow?" he asked her. She remained silent - she didn't even know herself. She heard the duster creak as he sat down on the foot of the bed, she couldn't help but look up at him, her eyes caught by his. Reaching out he ran a cool finger along her cheek and pushed the hair back off her face. "Why did you come here, why are you here now?"

"Because...I have nowhere else to go."

"What do you want, Willow?" he asked again.

"I want..." she broke his gaze for a moment, considering the question. "I want you to tell me why? Why you are doing this?"

Spike sighed, his eyes for the briefest of moments reflected weariness, a loneliness, a desperation. He inched closer to her, his lips a hairsbreadth away from hers.

"Because I want you Willow. Not the slayers little lap dog. I want the Willow that I know." He captured her lips in a soft questioning kiss before pulling back to continue. "I want to possess you," he kissed her cheek, brushing his own against it and lowering his mouth back to hers. "Like you have me," he kissed her lips again and tangled one of his hands in her hair, the other straying to stroke her back. "I want you, and I need you." He bent his head and began to shower kisses along her neck, continuing his explanation between the feather like strokes. "I want everything that you are - your happiness, your scars. I want you for an eternity..."

"Why me?"

"Because you have possessed me, claimed me, want me...you own me Willow," he raised his head and caught her gaze. "Anything I have, anything I am, is yours. Anything you want of me Willow."

"Anything?" she questioned, resting one hand on his chest, the other fell to his thigh.

"Anything," he repeated. Willow leant in and brushed her lips across his, not breaking the contact to ask her question.

"Stay with me Spike?"

"For an eternity Willow."

***
Something was growling, softly, grumbling, whining about being empty. It was Willow's stomach, further incensed by the aroma of hot pancakes, slathered with whipped butter and warm maple syrup. A slave to her body's demands Willow woke up.

"Maple syrup," she murmured, never remembering having a dream so vivid that it assaulted her senses with specific fragrances. Cracking an eye open she saw Spike sitting next to her holding a plate stacked high with the aforementioned delectables. Willow closed her eye and snuggled deeper into the cool comforts of the bedding. "Oh such sweet dreams."

"Come on, pet. Wake up and smell the...maple syrup."

Willow groaned at his lame word play and rolled onto her back, the sheet wrapping itself around her naked body. Bringing her hands up she rubbed at her eyes, willing herself away from the soft comforts of sleep, and yawned. Spike shoved a heavily loaded forkful of pancakes into her mouth.

"Hmmmph!" protested Willow sitting up and chewing the food that had been so unceremoniously shoved into her mouth. Any thoughts of protest died when her taste buds encountered the blissful combination of hot pancake, butter and copious amounts of maple syrup. Like a baby bird she swallowed and opened her mouth for more. Spike obligingly filled her mouth with another portion of bliss, chasing away the small amount of maple syrup that dripped on her chin with his own tongue. Willow giggled about the mouthful as Spike's tongue tickled her. Swallowing, she shook her head at him. "Did you make these?"

"Yeah, your bloody stomach kept me awake so I thought I would soothe the savage beast," Spike said concentrating on loading up the fork again. Willow looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, he was clad in only his jeans and his hair was a bedraggled mess. For the longest time last night he had simply held her, whispering over and over again his declarations between soft and fevered kisses. Before he surrendered to her every whim, which at times resulted in a multitude of giggles to escape both of them, by the time she fell into an exhausted sated sleep she was certain that what he said was true. He belonged to her. Suddenly her thoughts of last night were interrupted as another forkful of pancakes was presented to her. "Come on pet, don't let them go to waste after all the trouble I went to making them from scratch."

Willow opened her mouth and happily consumed the delicious offering. Worming her way under his arm she rested her head against his bare shoulder and looked up at him suspiciously. "From scratch?"

"Yes. Placed the milk in the bottle and shook it - a lot of work. Impressed?" Willow giggled and opened her mouth for another helping. A rumble of laughter left Spike. "What did you expect pet? America is, after all, the land of convenience."

Willow suppressed a giggle and took another offered mouthful. Her hand traced patterns on his naked chest and stomach while the other was tucked in the small of his back, resting against the soft pillows that littered the bed. Sighing she opened her mouth as Spike loaded up the fork again, the plate was nearly empty and her stomach was practically full.

"Well thank you for making me breakfast," said Willow, swallowing and licking her lips clean of the maple syrup.

"Brunch and it was selfish. Your stomach makes noises that would wake the dead..." he paused and gave her a lopsided grin. "Which it did."

"What," Spike shoved the final fork load into her mouth before she got to ask her question. Chewing minimally she swallowed the last piece. "What time is it?"

"'Bout eleven," Spike reached out for a goblet of chilled milk and handed it to her, placing the empty syrupy plate on the bedside table. She sipped the milk and watched him from the corner of her eye. He had stayed, as he said he would. Then again so had she. A shiver ran through her, she knew no matter what a choice had been made by both of them. Her thoughts were distracted as his sticky fingers brushed back her hair. She giggled.

"Your fingers are covered in maple syrup," she exclaimed, letting the empty glass fall to the bed. Spike shrugged and started to bring his fingers up to his mouth but Willow caught his hand in hers and guided it to her mouth. Running her fingers down to his wrist, she encircled it and held his hand steady as her tongue ran along the length of his thumb. Closing her eyes she sucked his thumb into her mouth, her tongue circling it, licking every last trace of maple syrup off it. Pulling her mouth away she let the clean digit slip free. Opening her eyes she smiled at him over his wet thumb. "Mine."

"Yours," he replied huskily. She ducked her head back down and captured the finger next to his thumb, repeating the treatment she had given his thumb. Spike swallowed unnecessarily. Releasing the finger she caught his eyes again.

"Mine," she stated, running her tongue up the length of the cleaned finger before moving onto the next.

"Yours," he acknowledged, watching her intently. She rolled slightly so that she rested on his chest, the sheet the only barrier between their chests. Holding his gaze she sucked on his finger, licking at the maple syrup that coated it. Pulling her mouth away she tilted her head forward, her lips barely millimetres from his.

"Mine," she breathed. Spike bowed his head and caught her lips, tasting the sweet syrup.

"Yours," he conceded, breaking the kiss. She bought his hand back to her mouth and kissed the remaining two fingers before taking them into her warm mouth to clean them.

"Mine," she claimed, releasing his fingers.

"Yours," he smiled down at her, twisting his wrist free of her grasp to entwine their fingers together. He broke her gaze and looked at their locked hands. "What happened to your wrist, love?"

"Oh, I...um, well," she stuttered unsure of what to say. Spike shifted slightly, not freeing her arm, and turned her back onto the bed, covering her body partially with his.

"These," he said, lightly kissing the darkening bruises his anger had caused. "Are mine, left by my fingers...but these," he lifted her wrist to his mouth and dragged his teeth against the older bruising before capturing her gaze again. "Are not. So who's are they?"

Willow, unsure of how he would react to the mention of Angel's name, held back. Spike sighed and dragged his teeth across the bruising once more, before drawing back and examining it closely. Frowning he began to kiss a slow path from her wrist, along her arm, over the bruises he had created and up her neck to nuzzle at her ear. Willow moaned and tangled her free hand in his hair. Moving he straddled her, resting his weight on his forearms, her wrist still held in his hand. He claimed her lips, seeking out her mouth and tongue, his own ravenous for her taste. Finally breaking the kiss he caught her gaze and tilted his head to one side, his eyes hardening.

"Tell me, pet."

Beneath him Willow shifted uselessly, trapped by his body, and closed her eyes against his demanding stare. "It was Angel."

She braced herself, his anger, his hatred, his violence, whatever he was going to do she was ready for it. Or so she thought. She felt him shift, lift up and off her, dragging her captured wrist with him as his other hand snaked about her and lifted her with him. Opening her eyes she found herself lying on Spike's chest, her head pillowed on his shoulder. He was still holding onto her bruised wrist, alternately kissing the bruises and rubbing at them with his thumb almost like he was trying to erase them. He seemed almost reflective as he studied the bruises. His silence unnerved her and suddenly she was purging herself of the whole story. Still he remained silent and pensive. His free hand moved from her back to stroke her hair as she rested against him, calming her fear of his silence. She had almost fallen asleep, soothed by the reassuring feeling of his fingers running through her hair, when he finally spoke.

"Be careful, love," he said quietly as he continued to stroke her hair. "Angel...he...he can be..." he struggled to find the appropriate words for what he wanted to say. "Angel has more in common with Angelus than he cares to admit."

Willow glanced up at him through sleep heavy eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing, pet," Spike drew her closer to him and kissed the top of her head. "Go to sleep."

***

Angel watched as Buffy slept. She had insisted on staying the night, calling her mother to say she was staying with Willow, so that she could look after him and he hated it. He had been worried about Willow, wanting nothing more than to find her and make sure she was safe, to make her safe with him. But Buffy was insistent that had she been in serious trouble or upset about something she would have stayed and that Angel wasn't in any fit state to be going out. So together they had stayed in, Buffy curling up in the agitated vampires arms talking about something he couldn't follow or understand since his thoughts were entirely focused on Willow. Buffy had talked well into the early hours of the morning and he'd been grateful when she finally fell asleep after hours of her declaring her love for him, demanding a response he was finding increasingly difficult to give. Now, as she slept, he watched and wondered.

He remembered that first time he had seen her, sitting in the afternoon sun, so pretty, so naive and innocent. She was the embodiment of everything that Angelus had striven to destroy, one way or the other. Then that night, when she made her first slay, she lost some of that innocence and gained an insight to the strength she had. And she had gone home and wept. It was those tears, her vulnerability that drew Angel to her, she possessed so much strength and yet she was weak and susceptible. She had been everything that Angelus hadn't been, but everything that he'd wanted and destroyed. She had been soothing to his tortured soul. Glancing down at her Angel wondered what happened to her, where was that naïve young innocent girl he wanted so badly? Had she changed so much that she no longer resembled the girl he fell for? Or was it him?

He backed away from the blonde sound asleep on the bed and sat down in one of the dark corners of the room, resting his elbows on bended knees and cradled his head in his hands. Willow. She was haunting him, in his thoughts during the day and at night she inhabited his dreams, calling to him, promising things that Buffy had long ago surrendered to him. He shook his head. She had been so different lately, changing not only her hair, but also her clothes, even the way she walked and held herself. Little things he and Giles had noticed and discussed, although Giles was certain it was nothing to worry about, merely that she was going through a metamorphosis and growing - something to be expected after the betrayal from Oz. Angel grunted at that thought, he could have happily ripped Oz's throat out for hurting her. However he didn't have to worry about Oz anymore, he had nothing to do with Willow.

Rolling his head he leant back against the wall, staring blindly at the ceiling. Tonight he would be able to go and check on Willow, make sure she was ok, even if he didn't speak to her he could still watch her...like he had been since she came back from her trip. Pushing himself off the floor he wandered out of his bedroom without a glance towards the girl still sleeping soundly in his bed and headed to the kitchen to feed.

***

Willow hissed lightly as she pulled her bra away from her sore breasts, the soft silk felt like sandpaper on her oversensitive nipples. She ached; it was the best way to describe it. Ten o'clock on Sunday night and she was back home, Spike having walked her to the end of her block after protesting that she should just stay at the apartment. Of course she couldn't, she had school in the morning and needed books that were at her parents house, and her friends would have been worried about her "disappearance", especially after her statement to Buffy about needing help. However they weren't. There were no messages on her answering machine, no notes taped to her French doors, or shoved under the front door, there was nothing and Willow regretted being foolish enough to insist that she had to come back here, she should have just stayed with Spike at the apartment.

Sighing she slipped on her boxers and top and turned her attention to packing the books she would need for tomorrow's classes. A knock at the French windows distracted her. Her face lit up, maybe they were worried or better yet maybe it was Spike. Pulling back the curtains she saw Angel. Hesitantly she opened the doors and stood aside, letting him enter.

"Hi, Angel," she said softly, leaving the door open and folding her arms across her chest. "Is something wrong?"

"Uh, no...well I don't...are you okay?"

Willow gave him a half smile. "I'm fine. You're looking better than the last time I saw you."

It was true, the wound on his face had completely healed and while his shirt covered his chest the wound there was little more than a scar that would be faded by morning.

"Miracles of blood, it can do all sorts of things for a vampire," he said perching on the side of her desk and fixing his gaze on her. She looked tired, pale and uneasy. Sighing unnecessarily he glanced down at the silver Claddagh band he wore and fingered it frowning slightly. "I'm sorry about yesterday, Willow. I was..."

"It's okay, Angel. You don't have to explain anything." Willow shifted her weight from one foot to the other, biting her bottom lip and keeping her eyes steadily on his hands.

"No it's not Willow," he was standing in front of her in a heartbeat, his hands holding her upper arms. "I'm sorry if I scared you...I...it's just if ever you need anything I'm here, if you need help or just to talk."

"Thanks, Angel, but I'm okay. Everything is fine," she said quietly, growing uncomfortable under his unwavering gaze. Sensing her discomfort he released her arms and stepped back.

"I'm sorry Willow, I shouldn't have come..." he turned to leave.

"No Angel, seriously it's okay," she reached out and took his arm. No matter how strange he had been acting lately he was still a friend and for all appearances the only one that cared at the moment. So she held onto him, keeping him close. "I'm sorry, I'm being rude. You know you are always welcome wherever I am."

"Really?" he asked turning to face her. She grinned and rolled her eyes.

"You have an open invitation at all times," she laughed and released his arm, moving back to her desk, sorting through her books for classes. "So are you feeling better? You look better."

"I guess. You look tired, Willow," he said taking up his perch on the edge of her desk again. Willow shrugged, stuffing a few of her books into her backpack.

"I am I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Why?" he crossed his arms and watched her face.

"I was..." she glanced up catching those dark brown eyes fixed on her. "Studying biology."

She smiled to herself, it wasn't a blatant lie but it wasn't exactly the truth either. He stayed for a little while longer, with Willow making general chit chat before yawning excessively and giving him a not too subtle hint to leave. Turning off the light she crawled into bed and waited for sleep to seduce her, let her dream. As sleep began to weave its comfortable blanket, her eyes adjusted to the darkness of her room and through the semi reflective glass of her French windows she could make out a figure. As she gave into the darkness of sleep she realised that it was Angel.

***

With a groan she woke up. If she thought her body was sore and tender last night, this morning it was screaming in agony. Forcing herself she started to get ready for school. Pulling the curtains to cover the windows she felt a shiver run through her. Angel. Had he really been on her balcony last night or was it just a dream? It had to be a dream. Picking up her bag she left her room and went to school.

She should have stayed home. People were brushing against her, feather like strokes that burnt her sensitive flesh, and her back was beginning to feel like it was in a vice grip an unrelenting pressure that was starting to twist. At lunchtime she and Xander sat in comfortable familiarity, his fingers warming the small of her back trying to ease her discomfort. He also bought her comfort in the shape of chocolate, sweet, delicious chocolate washed down with a soda that he had slipped a few analgesics into.

"Being a girl sucks. You guys are so lucky you don't get...girl things," Willow muttered, embarrassed by the idea of having this type of conversation with Xander. He merely laughed it off.

By the end of the day she was in the library in tears, Giles offering her a glass of water and a handful of tablets, and that was how Buffy found her.

"God, you look terrible," she proclaimed. Willow sobbed even harder and Giles frowned at his slayers insensitivity.

"Perhaps it would be best for you to go home," Giles suggested as she gulped at the water washing down the pills he had offered her. Hiccuping she wiped at the tears and nodded.

"I'm sorry," she whispered trying to control her tears.

"Don't be silly. You're hor..." he was about to say 'hormonal' but he didn't want to instigate another flood. "Just tired. Buffy why don't you take her home and then come back?"

"Okay, not a problem," she said taking her friends hand and leading her out of the library. As they walked towards her house in silence Buffy shot a worried glance at Willow, she certainly didn't look too well, pale and drawn. "Are you okay?"

"It's just...I think it's just really bad period cramps. I feel like my uterus is literally trying to cramp me to death," she admitted blushing. Buffy smiled sympathetically and pulled out a small bottle of pills from her bag, handing them to the redhead.

"It's probably stress," Buffy stated. She knew how stress could wreak havoc on a person's body, especially a female body. Glancing at her friend she considered her statement, Willow certainly had the stress factor going, just breaking up with her cheating boyfriend and on Saturday all that talk about being in trouble. Buffy shrugged to herself, thinking it couldn't have been too bad since she never said anything about it since. "You know my first period after I slept with Angel and he went, well you know, I thought I was going to die. The worst cramps for at least a week. It was a total pain fest."

Willow had long ago tuned out of the conversation, her physical pain was taking up her attention. It was starting to become a strange mixture of pain and numbness. Her head felt light while her limbs were heavy. Patterns of light and darkness blurred her vision.

"Here take three of these now, they'll knock you out and let you sleep," Buffy held out the tablets to Willow as she sat down on her bed.

"I'm home," Willow muttered unbelievably, hadn't she just been walking with Buffy? A spasm of pain shot through her and she took the offered tablets hoping beyond hope that they would indeed knock her out. Swallowing them with water she laid back on her bed and closed her eyes.

"I've got to get back to the library and do a patrol, do you want me to come round afterwards?" Buffy asked. Willow shook her head.

"No, I just need to get a decent night sleep. I'll be fine, Buffy," muttered Willow unaware that Buffy had already left. Pulling her knees up to her chest, hoping to ease the painful cramps, she drifted into a fitful drug induced sleep. Back at the library Buffy walked through the doors with a jaunty step and a lascivious smile crossed her lips as she spied Angel.

"Hi you," she said sweetly, snaking her arms around his waist and turning to Giles. "Something's up I ran into a pack of vampires on my way back, somehow I don't think tonight's going to be a quiet one." She looked up at Angel. "Patrol with me? I could use your help."

Angel mutely nodded.

***

"Willow," Someone was calling her, forcing her back into the waking nightmare of pain. Cool hands soothed her fevered face as it contorted in pain.

"No," she whimpered as the sharp clawing pain consumed her body, tearing at her backbone, twisting the muscles, millions of shards of pain shattering in her stomach.

"I can make it better, love."

"Spike?" she murmured through the pain filled and drug induced haze that surrounded her.

"Yes, pet."

"I hurt Spike," she whimpered blindly reaching out for him, she felt his leather clad arms encircle her, cradling her pain wracked body.

"I can make it better, love," the whisper reached her ear as his cheek brushed against hers.

"Please," she begged before crying out as he pulled away from her. Suddenly she was surrounded by the warmth of his leather jacket and lifted up in his arms. Pain roared through her and she buried her face in his neck, smothering a sob. Her body tried to curl up, only be prevented by his arms wrapped firmly about her back and legs, so she turned and wrapped herself about him. "Make it stop, Spike."

His comforting words were lost in the haze of pain, nausea and a swirling darkness that kept enveloping her. She had no idea how long he had been carrying her, or even when they had left the cocooned safety of her room, she was only just aware of the feel of his arms holding her tightly. And then they released her, dropping her down onto the soft comfort of cool silk. She cried out and rolled as another spasm of pain wracked her body. Suddenly hands were pulling at her, pulling away the duster and tearing at her clothes. Her drug-ladled mind fought the nightmarish qualities and her hands fought against those that were undressing her.

"Willow," through the nightmare and the darkness she heard Spike call her, his hands left her body to cup her face, pushing the sweat soaked hair back from her temple. "Willow."

Forcing her eyes to open she fought her way through the swirls of darkness that blurred her vision to focus on his blue eyes. "Spike?"

"Shhh, it's ok, pet. I'm here," he whispered stroking her face. Willow clutched at his hand as a wave of pain blurred her vision again.

"Please, make it stop," she begged.

"Close your eyes, love," he instructed, lightly dragging his fingers down over eyes, forcing them close, letting her lose herself in the darkness. Slowly his hands began to trace patterns against her fevered and tormented flesh. His lips caressing her, soothing her, leaving a wet trail over her sensitised skin as he crawled down over her body urging her legs apart to move between them.

She arched up off the bed and cried out as his tongue delved deep into her. His hands pressed down unrelentingly on her abdomen, his long fingers massaging at the knots of pain that generated from deep within her, while his face pressed between her thighs. Crying at the increasing cramps and pain she pressed her hips down into the mattress, her hands flying down to grip his hair trying to desperately pull him away. With a feral growl his fingers dug deep into the flesh of her abdomen and his tongue snaked around inside her, his teeth elongated and grazed at the oversensitive clit. Willow rolled her head back and a long painful scream left her as Spike continued his assault, his tongue and mouth working to draw out her essence and blood. He was rhythmically moving his mouth against her, the ridges of his vampire countenance thrusting against the flesh of her thighs, a continual hungry growl left him as he fed on her.

The scream had long since died and Willow's body was shaking with sobs, but as Spike continued his ministrations the pain dulled to be replaced by numbness. Blindly Willow stared at the intricate gold twirls of thread lost in a sea of green above her in the canopy of the bed. Spike's combination of growls and purrs from between her legs acted as succour, soothing her, releasing her from the nightmare of the pain which had previously consumed her. Slowly her hands released their grip on his hair, falling uselessly to her sides, as he continued to feed from her. The vice like grip on her stomach was removed and his hands found hers as his hungry growls turned into satisfied purrs. Suddenly he was beside her, wrapping her up in his arms, his vampire visage still at the fore.

Willow bought a shaky hand up to caress the ridges of his demon face making him purr and rub against her soft, warm fingers. Slowly her fingers moved down to run over his lips, pulling them away she bought them to her own lips, coating them with her blood. She sucked the remnants her fingertips and tangled them in Spike's hair, pulling him in to kiss. As their tongues met and caressed, entangling and teasing each other, she could taste her blood in his mouth, a sharp metallic tang. Sighing she pulled his body closer, so they were touching, their legs entwined. Breaking the kiss she bit down hard on his bottom lip, firmly trapping it between her teeth and dragging them across the soft plump flesh. As their mouths joined again she could taste his rich blood as it seeped from the wounds. Soft tender kisses started to become harder, frantic and hungry kisses. Tongues brushed across elongated fangs, lips were caught on sharp teeth, nicks and scratches were made, and blood mixed freely with saliva.

Finally Spike wrapped his fingers in her hair and pulled her back. Once more she bought her hand up to caress his face as he slipped back into his human façade. The next thing she knew she was standing under the shower clinging to him standing on legs that she couldn't feel one of his arms supporting her waist. The water cascaded over them, warming them, cleansing them. His hands caressed her body, soothing the aches and cramps as her head rested on his shoulder. Her body was cradled against his as the water washed over them and she fought to remain conscious, her eyes drooping shut. Swallowing she could taste the blood that was still leaking from the nicks and scratches on her lips and tongue. The warmth of the water was turned off and she was vaguely aware of being wrapped in a large fluffy bath towel. Her legs were lifted up and her arms snaked around Spike's neck as he carried her from the bathroom and out toward the lounge room. Glancing over his shoulder she looked longingly at the bed, shocked to see the gold sheets and pillows stained with scarlet. Blood, not a lot of it but enough to make it an ick factor. Closing her eyes the bed disappeared and she let herself fall into the swirling darkness of sleep.

Cool hands and Spike's soft rumbling voice pulled her back to consciousness. Wrapped in silk he was pulling her closer, asking if she was okay, his arms wrapping about her, locking her to him. She bought her hand up to stroke his cheek before claiming his lips in a soft kiss.

"Mine," she mumbled, snuggling against him.

"Mine," he growled, tightening his hold on her, his eyes flashing gold.

****

It was the soft whirring sound from the lounge room that woke Willow from her slumber and she stirred in Spike's arms.

"What's that?" she murmured against his chest.

"Just the curtains, love," he kissed her temple and tightened his hold on her. "Go back to sleep."

"What time is it?" her hot breath warmed his skin and made him sigh.

"Early, go back to sleep," he moved his hand up to stroke her hair softly, lulling her back to sleep.

"Wake me so I can go to school," she murmured snuggling deeper into his embrace.

"Yes, love," Spike laughed. True to his word he woke her some four hours later, or rather tried to.

"I'm awake," she mumbled, rolling over onto her stomach and burying her head deep in the pillow with a satisfied sigh.

"No you're not," he whispered as he tickled her spine with his lips, working his way up to her neck. She giggled. "Come on, love, your first class starts in twenty minutes."

"What?" she twisted about and sat up, running her fingers through her hair and desperately looking about for a clock. Panicking she inched her way over to the edge of the bed. "Oh god, I'm going to be late. I've got to go home and get dressed and..." she paused to look back at an amused Spike and blushed. "Get some...other...things..."

"Twenty minutes is plenty of time to have a shower and all that," Spike stated, propping himself up on the pillows to watch her.

"I haven't got clothes..." she started to protest, standing up and turning to look at him. Spike raised an eyebrow at her.

"The closet is full of clothes," he all but growled. "Pick something and have a shower. Do you want something to eat before you go?"

"I still have to get...other..." she paused, blushing furiously again. "Girl things..."

Spike didn't laugh at her, like she thought he would, instead he studied her intently before holding out his hand to her.

"Come back to bed for a moment, love," he asked softly. Frowning Willow reached out and took his hand, crawling over the bed to lie down next to him, her head resting on his shoulder. His arm snaked about her shoulders, his fingers dragging lightly through her hair. His other hand hovered, momentarily, over her flat stomach before his cool fingers touched the warm flesh, his thumb caressing her. "You won't bleed anymore this month Willow."

Willow glanced up at him for a moment, trying to read his expressionless face, before lowering her gaze to his hand on her stomach.

"Why?" she almost whispered. Beside her Spike smirked and shrugged. She frowned lightly and shifted against him, her own hand covering his on her stomach. "Will it...will it be like this every time?"

"No, love," Spike shifted, ducking his head to claim her lips in a soft questing kiss. Sighing he broke the kiss and held her gaze. "Your..." He pursed his lips and closed his eyes briefly. "Our blood was calling to me."

"Our blood?" questioned Willow tensing in his arms, her hand gripping his. "What do you mean by that?"

"My blood," he purred, lifting his head and rubbing his chin against the soft hair that covered the top of her head. "And your blood combined...our blood."

Willow remained quiet for a moment, her mind working through what he had just said. She had consumed his blood on two occasions now, that first time in the club at New Orleans and the first night he had bought her to the apartment, she carried their combined blood. Frowning she shifted slightly in his arms, it should repulse her that she was contaminated by him, that a small part of him was with her at all times, but it didn't, in fact she revelled in it. But still it didn't explain the extent of her pain or why it wouldn't happen again...and then it did. Up until last night she had carried their blood, he hadn't until he drank from her.

"And now you have our blood, so I...my...our blood won't call to you next time?" she asked hesitantly, not really understanding the full complications of that statement. He laughed lightly against her hair.

"Exactly pet," Spike pulled away and looked down at her, a quirky grin plastered all over his face. "Although it's a neat way to relieve cramps...anytime you need..."

"Spike," she slapped him on the chest, blushing again. Reluctantly she pulled away from him and got out of the bed. Spike rolled over onto his stomach and sprawled across the bed, watching as her slim body walked away from him and into the bathroom. Pursing his lips, he pulled down a pillow to cradle his head while he watched her take a shower.

"Mine," he growled, his eyes possessive.

***

"I trust you're feeling better today? You are certainly looking...well actually you look rather pale..." said Giles. "Perhaps you should have some iron tablets. Women are often deficient in iron during their...oh...um...yes, well."

Willow ducked her head and smiled. Poor Giles, still stuck in his frightfully British almost Victorian attitude that women's business should not be mentioned in mixed company. Trying to stifle back a giggle, she wrote down a few notes from her computer screen. Lunchtime had come and she'd wandered into the Library, partly to apologise to Giles for her tearful performance the previous afternoon and partly to try and gain some insight to this mornings revelations with Spike. Instead Giles had pounced on her and asked for her help in looking up something on the net.

"Yes, Giles," she agreed and winced as the tiny abrasions on her lips ached slightly. She had easily explained those to Buffy - she was badly chaffed, too much lip licking. "So what exactly were you..."

She paused for a moment and frowned, turning around in her chair to look at the stacks.

"Willow? What is it?" Giles asked looking up toward the stacks.

"I don't..." she drew back slightly as a dark form moved forward from the shadows.

"Angel, for goodness sakes, it would be appreciated if you could make some sort of noise rather than just sneaking up on people," scolded Giles, thinking that the vampire was definitely going to be the cause of a major coronary. "How long have you been there for?"

Angel frowned and looked down at the still startled Willow.

"I only just came in through the tunnels," he held out a book to Giles. "I thought I'd bring this around for you. It contains the full Gaelic texts you were after last night, it might help you out."

"Oh, well, thank you," Giles stuttered taking the book and eagerly flipping through the pages. "Oh this is...well exactly..."

Willow watched in silence as Giles spoke to Angel, excitedly discussing the possibilities of the text and getting a translation. She had felt Angel as soon as he'd walked into the stacks and it was a strange feeling to try to explain. Neither bad nor good, it was similar to hearing someone's voice and recognising it, but she hadn't heard anything, or seen anything, merely felt him.

"This is just too weird," Willow muttered to herself.

"Sorry, what?" asked Giles looking at her over the book. She gave him a smile and shook her head.

"Nothing...I just...you know I think I might go," Willow got up and started to shut down the computer, nodding her head. "I don't have any classes this afternoon, so I might just go catch up on some...things."

"Oh, well if you think that's best. Although I could use your assistance here," said Giles taking off his glasses to watch her.

"Is everything okay?" Angel asked. Willow glanced up at him, the strange feeling sweeping through her again.

"Yeah, I'm just...girl stuff," Willow blushed.

"Oh...oh, of course, by all means go then," Giles busied himself with the book and turned to Angel. "Perhaps you could help with the translation of a few other pieces I have in my office."

"Bye," Willow waved at them as she picked up her bag and headed out the door. Both of them watched as she left.

"She's lying," stated Angel staring at the library door as it swung closed.

"What?" asked Giles, shocked at Angel's statement.

"I can smell blood and there isn't a trace of it."

"But that's...impossible. Yesterday she was...well...she was in quite a bit of pain..." Giles stared at the frowning dark haired vampire. "Are you sure? I mean, why would she lie about something like that?"

"Something is going on. I don't like it." Angel stated firmly. "I think it's time I found out."

***

Willow stood in the lift, waiting as it made the slow journey up to the apartment. There it was again that feeling she had in the library when Angel arrived, slightly different though. This was more of a buzz, an urgency, a hunger. She jiggled her foot slightly and tapped her index finger against her thumb.

"Come on," she urged the lift to hurry up. Finally the doors slid open and she stepped out, carelessly throwing her bag aside. Something was blaring away on the stereo and turning around she saw Spike sitting in one of the wing chairs, his bare feet resting on the coffee table, smirking.

"Hello, pet," he purred. Slowly she walked toward him, her fingers were tingling, aching to touch him. "What are you doing home so early?"

"I didn't have any afternoon classes," she murmured, standing astride his legs and slowly crawling up into the chair, her knees either side of his thighs. Losing the smirk he raised his hands and clasped the wings of the chair. She leant forward and ran her fingers across the bare flesh of his raised arms, her eyes darkening as his muscles flexed beneath her touch. Her mouth was barely millimetres from his, her hot breath leaving her lips in soft pants. Closing the slight distance between them she kissed him, her mouth opening, her tongue delving into the cool recesses of his and moving with his. One of her hands traced a path down his naked chest to the fly of his jeans, the fingers twisting and pulling it apart, her fingers soon finding his half hard cock. As her warm fingers curled about him, he moaned into her mouth. Capturing his bottom lip between her teeth she pulled back from him, dragging her teeth along the soft plump flesh, causing him to chuckle. "So...I thought I'd come...home."

"Home?" Spike asked, his smirk returning. Giving him a half smile she let her fingers stroke him until he was throbbing. Tilting his head he looked at her, his hips jerking slightly with every upward stroke she made, and clenched his jaw. She bought her other hand up to caress his jaw, her fingertips tracing his pale lips and she leant forward, her own lips brushing against her fingers. Spike's voice vibrated through her fingers. "Pet, you're killing me here."

"What do you want, Spike?" she murmured removing her fingers and letting her lips brush across his. Shifting slightly he bought his hands down, one cupping the small of her back while the other worked on the snaps of the dress she was wearing, opening it up and pulling it from her pale shoulders. His mouth claimed hers, his tongue teasing and tantalizing, tasting her. Breaking away from the kiss, she panted slightly, her lips hovering above his. "Tell me what you want, Spike."

He pulled her dress away and pushed her back from him, pulling her warm hand out of his jeans. Wantonly his eyes roamed over her, taking in her flushed skin, taught flesh and the soft dusky blue lace scraps of underwear she was wearing, finally his gaze moved back to her face and he smiled at her.

"You, my redheaded queen as she sits on her throne of flesh," he growled, his eyes growing dark before his mouth crashed down on hers, making her moan under the force of it. His fingers tore at the remaining scraps of lace that covered her body and discarded them, his fingers burning into her flesh as they dragged across it. She laughed into his mouth before pulling away and holding his face between her hands, her eyes dancing with mischief.

"Beg," she demanded, not really thinking he would. Suddenly she thought she may have gone too far as his face slipped into the expressionless mask she had seen so many times before and he pushed her away from him. "Spike, I..."

She squealed as he cut her off, swinging her up and around, sitting her in the chair and kneeling at her feet. His head bowed, but his eyes firmly locked on hers. Willow smiled lightly at his submissive position.

"I am your humble servant, milady, and as your servant I fervently beg that you let me..." he paused for a moment, a wicked smirk gracing his lips, and then continued in the frightfully proper English accent he had adopted. "Entertain your majesty."

"And how do you propose to do that?" Willow asked quietly, keeping up the pretence that he was a humble servant and not some powerful master vampire kneeling at her feet.

"Well," he murmured, his fingers caressing her ankles, still holding her gaze. "I would like to bestow my body for her majesties entertainment."

"Your body?" Willow quirked an eyebrow and let her eyes roam over his pale, masculine body, her chest tightened and her stomach clenched. "And is your body able to...rise to the occasion?"

Spike smirked, partially opening his mouth, his tongue brushing against his bottom teeth. One of his hands moved to his open jeans and stroked his hard cock. "I can assure your majesty that my body is more than able."

Leaning forward he kissed her knee, swirling his tongue over it and repeated the action on the other knee. Smiling he dragged his teeth across her knee and worked his mouth up along her thigh, his tongue flicking out and teasing the trembling flesh. As his mouth moved up higher, his hands began to torment and caress her legs, starting at her ankles, swirling and twirling over sensitive flesh. Her thighs parted and widened, leaving her open and expose to his questing mouth, which happily kissed every part of flesh it came across. Soon his tongue was flicking out at her wet lips, moving between them, tasting her bittersweet essence. Moaning she writhed against his face, her hands clutching at his hair. His tongue moved up to flick across her clit, then making wide circles, closing in, closer and closer.

"Please Spike," she begged, her legs tensing, her feet rising up to the tips of her toes. She tore one hand away from his hair and reached up to grab the wing of the chair as her hips thrust forward, trying to gain what she needed. Suddenly his mouth was pulling back and away from her and she cried out at the loss of it. "No."

His hands gripped her legs and bought them up, slinging them over the arms of the chair, spreading her wide open and raising her ass off the chair. Gasping for breath her other hand flew up to grab the free wing of the chair. Standing up he shed his jeans, knelt on the edge of the chair and encircled the small of her back, dragging her hips forward while he thrust up into her with a grunt of pure satisfaction. His mouth crashed down on hers, his tongue teasing a response from hers until it danced a tantalising dance of carnal delight. Breaking the kiss he lowered his head, laving each of her nipples and sucking them into his mouth, his teeth lightly bruising them. All the time he thrust hard and deep into her, lifting her higher with each thrust until he was standing on his knees and her calves grabbed at the arms of the chair. Kissing his way back up to her mouth he kissed her possessively, his fangs elongating and slashing their tongues, their blood mixing.

Suddenly Willow's whole body stiffened and one of her hands clawed at his ass as she thrust down hard against him, her other hand digging into the material of the chair. Her head rolled back and she screamed out his name. Spike hissed and slammed deeper into her, his hips roughly jerking as he joined her in cumming, her name tumbling from his mouth. He continued to rock them, his arms supporting her, lifting her legs from the arms of the chair. Slowly he wrapped her in his arms and sank back down onto the chair, cradling her to him.

"So..." he whispered against her ear. "Did I please my queen?"

***

Willow stretched out on the bed, her arms spreading out, fingers stretching and curling. With a satisfied sigh she flipped over onto her back and curled back under the soft silk sheet. Spike had left a few hours ago stating he'd be back no latter then 10. They had moved from the wingchair into the bedroom and Spike had urged her to sleep while he was gone, promising to serve his queen on his return. Willow giggled, she loved his show of servitude.

Linking her hands above her head, she sighed and lost herself in the gold swirls of the canopy for a brief moment before pushing aside the sheet and getting out of the bed. When Spike had left he'd turned off the lights, leaving only the soft floor lights on, so that Willow could sleep. Now it was just too dark for her so she made her way out to the lounge room and lit the candles, the flames flickering and casting a multitude of colours about the room. Smiling she made her way over to the stereo, dragging her hand lightly across the back of the wingchair they'd occupied earlier that day and changed the CD's before pressing random play. Taking a final glance at the room she sighed contentedly and made her way to the kitchen so she could grab a glass of coke to drink while she indulged in a soaking hot bath.

***

As Spike walked down the darkened corridor the stench grew. The smell of rotting flesh, dead flesh, clotted and soured blood, it filled his senses, overwhelmed him, disgusted him. He paused outside the door, his hand enclosing about the handle, clenched his jaw and pushed the door open. It swung easily, revealing the room and his eyes fell on the macabre display of tattered and torn corpses. Silk scarves covered some of their eyes, the rest stared blindly, eyelids torn off, the eyeballs withered and dry. The mouths that weren't similarly bound by scarves had been forced open, the tongues had been torn out leaving the mouth cavity hollow and dark. Hands were tied together, fingers had been severed and nails torn from the beds. The chest of each corpse had been viciously ripped open, the flesh torn, ribs shattered and exposed.

Humming from the bed distracted him from the ghastly sight of the corpses rotting in pools of their own stagnant and soured blood. Slowly Spike turned to face the white lace covered bed. There she was, dark hair pulled off her face, pale skin framed brilliantly bright eyes while her lips moved, whispering the words of the song that eased the torment of her mind. Her hands were held above bloodied hearts, like she was trying to be warmed by the heat the various rotting hearts once held.

"Drusilla," purred Spike, trying to tempt her from the depths of madness. She stopped rocking and looked up at him, her face breaking into a lascivious smile.

"You're home," she crooned, bringing a hand up to caress her neck.

"Mmm," he muttered offhandedly walking over to the bed and glancing down at the hearts, noting that one was really nothing more than putrefied muscle. Drusilla followed his gaze, her hands reaching out to stroke her treasures.

"I've been collecting hearts..." she murmured, half closing her eyes in pleasure.

"I can see that," Spike stated, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "And smell it..."

"Angel hearts," she sighed, bending down to inhale the sweet aroma of the rotting organs.

"Bloody hell, they're not Angel hearts..." snapped Spike twisting away from her and walking over to the corpses.

"Yes...yes...yes..." she whimpered her hands flying up to cradle her head. Stopping her whimpering and rocking she raised her head, her long index fingers dragging across the smooth cool flesh of her face and ran her tongue along her teeth. Moving she stood up and almost glided over to stand in front of him, her hands reaching out to him, one snaking about his neck while the other spanned across his chest. Smiling she stepped in closer, tilting her head back. "Angel...hearts."

Spike growled and knocked her hand away from his chest, shifting slightly to put a little more distance between them. She pouted and whimpered lightly, her hand once more moving to his chest, the fingers splaying across the material of his t-shirt. Her eyes widened and she gasped, glancing up at his face.

"You've started the fire... consumed it and it consumes you...you burn too strong...stronger than..." she murmured. Spike cut her off.

"Why'd you leave them?" he asked, studying her face intently.

"Shhh," she whispered her long fingers pressed against his lips as she rolled her head back, dark hair cascading over her shoulders. She pressed her body against him, her lips barely millimetres from his ear. "You'll wake them..."

"I doubt that," Spike stated raising an eyebrow. Dru leant her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, one hand still clasped his neck while the other moved down, brushing against his chest and stomach.

"Dance with me?" she whispered her hand moving down, fingers rubbing over his groin. Silently he closed his eyes and swallowed. She smiled, her head twisting on his shoulder, her lips brushed across his neck. "We use to dance...all the time..."

Planting soft kisses she moved along his neck working up to kiss his jaw, her body closing in against his, rubbing against him. Finally her lips caught his ear.

"Angel," she whispered against him as her hands caressed his body.

"Damn it Dru," Spike hissed pushing her away. Whimpering she reached out to touch his chest again only to have him grab her wrist, twisting it cruelly, making her gasp in pleasure. She opened her mouth, a soft moan escaping as she rolled her head forward, looking up at him through lowered lashes.

"I'm daddy's princess," she purred, her eyes shining and maniacal.

"That you bloody well are Dru," snarled Spike pushing her hand away in disgust, turning he walked out the door, slamming it shut. Dru laughed softly and drifted back to the bed. Draping herself across the bed she let her long fingers run across the hearts.

"I've got Angel hearts," she murmured, unaware that Spike was already gone.

"Marcus," hollered Spike striding away from the room. Suddenly a fair-haired vampire was by his side. "Why the fuck is the room like that? Have someone clean it out."

Spike hadn't even waited for a reply to his question. He really didn't want to know. He started to walk away, stopped and turned back to the minion who was still standing where he'd been addressed. Spike stood for a moment, taking his time in lighting a cigarette.

"Let her do what she pleases..." Spike murmured looking down at his feet, he had instructed the minions to keep her safe. He took another long drag on his cigarette and shook his head. "She isn't my concern anymore."

Without looking back he walked away from the house that had been his main residence for the past few months and headed back up town...back to his queen.

***

Willow moved, hips swinging in time to the music, fingers running lightly across her body as it swayed and moved. She was being silly, dancing to loud music on the coffee table. She was so lost in the movement, in the music pumping through the sound system, that she didn't even hear Spike come back, but she felt him. Still she danced on.

Spike stood for a moment, watching as she moved, watching the way her simple dress clung to her, moved with her. Quietly he took off his duster, casually throwing it down on one of the couches as he passed by to sit down in the chair. She smiled down at him as he took off his boots, his feet moving to rest on the coffee table she was dancing on.

"Spike?" she questioned, frowning slightly at his darkened eyes. She stopped dancing to watch him.

"Dance for me, pet," he murmured. Willow hesitated for a moment before closing her eyes briefly and letting the music envelop her again, her body moving slowly, seductively.

Spike leant back against the chair and watched as his queen danced. Her hips swayed, her hands twirling in the air, arms raising above her head before dropping back down so her fingers could brush against her soft curves. Red hair, soft and fine, framed pale skin and her wonderfully clear eyes. Eyes that reflected sanity, intelligence and desire...desire for him. He stood up and walked around the coffee table, his eyes taking in every perfect detail of her. Sighing he stepped up onto the table standing behind her, his hands snaking about her body as he stepped into her.

She giggled. A soft sound of amusement. As his hands brushed across her warm body, teasing her flesh, he rested his chin against her shoulder and his eyes focused on his hands as they worked over her body. Slowly, entwined in his arms, she continued to dance, with Spike moving in perfect unison with her. Slow and sensual. One of his hands moved to cup her breast through the thin material of her dress while the other caressed her cheek with a gentle pressure, urging her head to turn. Lips found lips and his tongue flicked across her lips, a soft pressure asking permission to take her mouth, which opened. His tongue explored her mouth, tasting her, dancing with hers.

Willow moaned lightly against his mouth, one of her hands moved to capture the back of his head, holding him to her as he deepened the kiss. Her other hand moved to stroke his thigh as she pushed back against him. No matter how wonderful it was she wanted more, so she broke the kiss and turned in his arms, her own wrapping about his waist. Face to face they swayed together, moving slowly and seductively, their bodies melding together. Spike leant forward his mouth claiming hers again before she pulled away from him and her fingers tugged at his shirt pulling it from his jeans. He helped her remove it, watching her flushed face as her eyes roamed over his naked chest, her fingers drawing delicate patterns on the exposed flesh. Growling possessively he pulled her back into him, his hands crushing her to him, tangling in her hair and squeezing her ass as his tongue dominated her mouth. Still they continued to sway together in time with the music and Spike tore his mouth away from hers, lowering his head to kiss and bite his way down her neck. Loosening his hold he pulled down the flimsy straps of her dress, letting it fall and expose her pert breasts to his questing tongue and mouth. Purring he suckled against her as his arm continued to hold her tight, the other hand pushing her dress down and delving between her legs. He moaned against her breast as his fingers found her wet.

"Spike," she moaned against his hair, her fingers clawing at his back. His fingers were teasing her clit while his mouth sucked at her hard nipples. Using her weight as leverage she let herself collapse back against the hard surface of the coffee table, dragging Spike down on top of her. Her hands flew down to his jeans, yanking the fly open and pushing them down. Lifting off her briefly Spike ripped them off tossing them eagerly aside as Willow reached for him again. "Spike..." she murmured against his ear, humour tainting her voice as she wrapped her legs about him. "You're killing me here."

Growling his eyes flashed gold before he wrapped her in his arms and slammed into her. Willow whimpered in pleasure, her arms wrapping about him, holding onto him as he started to rhythmically slam into her. His mouth crushed hers, his tongue teasing and dominating hers. She writhed beneath him, her hips meeting his thrust for thrust. One of her legs hooked over his hip, her foot arching into his ass urging him deeper with every thrust. Tearing his mouth away he continued to pound into her, feeling her hips roll beneath him letting her get the pressure she needed against her clit. He watched as her eyes, firmly locked on his, darkened and widened. Her hands clawed at him, nails digging into his firm ass driving him forward into her.

"Spike," she hissed out, her legs clamping down around him as her muscles shook around him, hands digging deeper into his flesh as she came. His name was all it took with a final thrust his hips jerked roughly against her as he flooded her with his semen. Closing his eyes he rested his forehead against her chest, his lips tasting the salty sweat covered skin.

"Willow," he murmured against her warm flesh, still holding her tightly in his arms even as he felt her legs loosen their hold on him, her breathing coming in ragged pants. He smiled against her chest. "My beautiful queen."

***

Angel paced the small area of the floor and glanced at the bedside table. The clock showed it was just past midnight.

"Come on, Will. Where are you?" he muttered to himself, continuing his pacing. He glanced about Willow's bedroom again. The bed was made, but rumpled, and held no warmth or strong scent. He doubted she'd slept in it since the last time he was in her room on Sunday. Last night vampire activity had been high, he and Buffy had their hands full. Patrolling ran into the early hours of the morning and they had returned to the mansion together, so he hadn't been able to keep his nightly vigil of the redhead. Not that he was overly concerned about that. Well he wasn't...until earlier today in the library when Willow had looked directly at him with those green eyes of hers. He prided himself on his stealthiness, he could even sneak up on Buffy without her knowing, but this afternoon there was something eerie about how quickly Willow had found him, sensed him. And then her blatant lie to get out of the library, he had no idea what was going on with her but he didn't like it. He paused in his pacing near her desk, the telephone catching his eye. Picking it up he dialled the library, hoping that she may have gone there to help Giles with his research.

"Giles, it's Angel...is Willow with you by any chance?" Angel waited for the negative reply and the explanation that Giles was by himself translating the Gaelic texts in the library. He sighed, listening as Giles continued on that Buffy had a very quiet patrol and gone home, never once mentioning seeing Willow.

"Perhaps she's at home, you could have been wrong about her feeling unwell..."

"No she's not..." Angel paused and glanced about the room, he was about to say 'here', but somehow that didn't seem appropriate. "I mean I called around and she wasn't there, no sign of her."

"Well, she could be with friends..."

"Maybe," agreed Angel, although he doubted it. "I don't like it Giles, there's something going on she's not telling us about."

"Angel," Giles voice sounded concerned but terse at the same time, agitated almost. "I'm sure that if she was in trouble she would tell us. Perhaps you are misinterpreting a young girls reaction to a heartbreaking betrayal...Oz was her first boyfriend after all."

Angel remained quiet. He had known that first night in the library when Oz's betrayal was revealed that Willow, although affected, wasn't as upset as everyone suspected.

"No Giles, it's something different..." Angel said, his fingers searching through the few items lying on the desk next to the phone. There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

"Angel, I understand your concern..." Giles hesitated. "But...I believe you are forgetting that Willow is a remarkably intelligent girl, if she were in trouble she would ask for help..."

"What if she didn't know she was in trouble?" Angel cut Giles off with the question, angry and frustrated. "She may be intelligent, but she's young, no more than a child...innocent...naïve...she may not understand the situation she's in."

"You truly believe she is in some type of danger?" Giles asked. "I mean things have been incredibly quiet these last few weeks...I can't see how..."

"I don't know Giles," Angel stated, wearily running his fingers across his brow. "I can't explain it, I just don't like the way she's been lately...everything about her is...off, not herself. You've said yourself she seems odd...and it's not all to do with Oz, it's something else..."

Giles considered the situation for a moment. "I'll talk to her in the morning, see if I can ascertain what exactly is going on..."

"I think..." Angel hesitated for a moment, turning to once more glance about the room. "We should keep this between us Giles."

"Well, I would think that is advisable. Buffy, although a slayer, can be a little...insensitive at times," Giles concurred, Angel merely grunted. "However if she is in danger..."

"Whatever it is, Giles, I can handle it. No one else is to be involved," Angel stated. He continued to listen to the watcher, becoming frustrated by the man's thoughts and ideas regarding Willow. Finally Giles agreed to Angel's propositions and suggestions and said his goodbyes.

Grinding his teeth Angel replaced the handset in its cradle and glanced about the room. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. If she had gone to a friend's house, she'd need clothes so he stormed over to her closet and opened the door. Clothes, fluffy clothes, overalls and long pants were neatly organised. Angel frowned and started to rummage through them, not sure what he was looking for until his hand fell on soft silk chiffon and he paused in his search. Frowning he pulled out the outfit, it was a cherry red long sleeved gauzy top covering an equally red skirt and tiny top. Fingering the material he considered it for a moment, slowly he bought the sleeve up to his nose, inhaling deeply. There was the sweet aroma of Willow and another distinctive scent. Angel narrowed his eyes and growled, it was Spike.

Tossing the garment onto the bed, Angel turned his attention back to the closet, rummaging through the clothes and pulling out a number of items. All of which had the faint but unmistakable aroma of Spike. Growling he turned around to stare at the clothes littering the bed. Feminine and form fitting, tantalizing and teasing, but not sluttish and not Willow. Not the Willow he knew. Sitting down he picked up a handful of the clothes, gathering them and taking in their scent. Willow and Spike...Spike. Discarding them in disgust he stood up began searching through her drawers. The first one was filled with luxurious underwear in silk and lace, again carrying the scent of Willow and Spike. Growling he started to pull the lingerie out when his fingers brushed across a hard velvet surface. He pushed the scraps of silk aside to reveal a black jewellery box, pulling it out he opened it to find a black choker. From experience he knew this type of necklace wasn't cheap and couldn't have been bought in Sunnydale. Cursing silently he closed it and searched the drawer, turning up several more pieces of jewellery. Anger welled forth and he slammed the drawer shut with enough force to rock the tallboy and have the drawer bounce slightly open. Unable to stand being in her room any longer with the vile stench of Spike on her clothes he stormed out into the corridor and down to the bathroom. Methodically he worked his way through the items in the bathroom, quickly finding the various items that contained the smell of her balm. Gathering them together he dumped them in the sink, bath oil, balm, a spray bottle of perfume and massage oil. He read over the various labels.

"Okay, Willow, what the hell were you doing in New Orleans?" he asked the empty room as he noted the name and telephone number of the shop where the products came from. Without hesitating he unscrewed the lid of the bath oil and emptied it down the sink, the perfume and massage oil followed. Turning on the hot water tap he let it run until he could no longer smell the oils, needless to say there was no hot water left. Pocketing the balm he smashed the empty bottles and dropped the shattered remains into the wastebasket. He picked up the small jar of balm, rolling it around his hand. He was so angry that he could have easily crushed it in his hand, instead he stared at it intently before dropping it into his coat pocket and leaving the bathroom.

By the time he walked back into Willow's bedroom he had forced himself to calm down. He had no doubt that Spike was involved, the question was how long and what sort of game his idiot childe was playing at. Glancing at the clothes scattered on the bed he growled softly, picking them up and hanging them back in the closet. Then he tidied the room, pushing the drawers back into her dresser and reorganising the papers on her desk. Satisfied that the room was the same as he found it he left, one thing on his mind. Find Spike and he'd find Willow.

***

Hands were grabbing at her, pulling her, pushing her, voices of friends and family calling to her, telling her yes and no. Blindly she struggled, taking steps forward only to be pulled back by the hands, smothered and constrained. Voices called to her, demanding her attention but giving her nothing to focus on. There were just the hands, holding her, restraining her. Screaming out she lashed out her fingers groping and scratching at the hands, her own voice trying to silence the voices calling to her.

Then nothing, just an insidious darkness and silence. Standing up she peered into the darkness, searching for something, someone. A soft breeze caught her attention and she spun, or the darkness she was in spun, the world about her spun only stopping to reveal pine trees, tall and dark. The cool breeze brushed across the simple silk dress she was wearing, making it cling even more to her body. She turned around slowly, glancing about the small clearing she was in, taking in the sweet smell of woods. A low growl shattered the peace of the wood. Slowly, hesitantly Willow turned around, the breeze causing her hair to blind her momentarily, blocking her view of the solid white wolf that stood in front of her, hackles raised, lips twisted back in a snarl. She knew she should be terrified, running away from this wild animal, this beast. But she wasn't and she didn't, as the wolf continued to growl and snarl at her she felt calm and safe. Protected. The wolf's growls softened although the snarl still graced its lips, it looked farcical, like it was grinning at her. Smiling she walked towards the white animal, kneeling in the soft earth before it, her hands running across the soft heavy fur.

The wolf leant into her caresses, laying itself down at her feet. Willow marvelled at the feel of its muscles, strong and animalistic. It was deceptive, the soft fur hid a hard interior. Sighing she ran her hands along its body, her hands burying in the thick fur that surrounded its neck before moving up to caress its head, massaging the pointy ears between her thumb and index finger. A soft sigh of satisfaction left the wolf and its tail thumped up and down on the earth. Willow's fingers ran down over the wolf's eyes, separating and framing its bright blue eyes. She fixed her green gaze on the wolf's blue. The shadows of the woods lengthened and darkened and Willow stood up, her hands pulling away from the wolf. It whimpered and whined, protesting at the loss.

"It's getting dark," Willow muttered to herself. She watched as the trees expanded and then collapsed in on themselves, giving way to a huge clearing, bright and sunny. She walked forward, stopping to turn as the wolf growled. The wolf was looking past her, hackles raised, teeth exposed and blood dripping from its jaws. Gasping Willow stumbled backwards into a cool embrace.

"Willow," the hands tightened their hold and spun her. Steadying herself her hands grasped at a hard chest, covered in black silk, heavy brocade silk.

"A...A...Angel?" she stammered looking up into the chocolate brown eyes. Behind her the wolf howled, distracting Angel's gaze.

"You're late," he stated, his eyes flashing yellow at the wolf, silencing it. Slowly his gaze returned to her, his eyes changing back to the soft brown. "We were worried."

"We?" asked Willow looking past him for the first time. Gathered in a semi circle around Giles were her friends, her associates and her family. They lacked colour and life, dull eyes were fixed on the open ground, they paid no heed to the girl held in the vampire's arms. Giles was reading from a large book held in his hands and although his lips didn't move Willow could hear the words, his voice, but couldn't understand them. "What's going on?"

"You're late," repeated Angel, pulling her closer. "To come with me..."

"No, I don't want to," Willow struggled vainly in his grasp, hissing as his fingers dug into her flesh. Behind her the wolf snarled and snapped it's teeth.

"You'll do what you are told," he stated, dragging her backwards towards the group. The wolf growled and launched itself at the couple. Angel dropped his hold on Willow and caught the wolf, snapping its neck, letting it fall to the ground with a thud. Willow stared at the lifeless form, fear flooding her. "You always do..."

"No," she screamed out, dropping down and reaching out to the wolf. Angel's hands wrapped about her, pulling her back up to him. "NO!"

The sound of her own voice screaming woke her with a jerk. Spike's arms were wrapped about her, holding her to his chest, his lips caressing her temple. As her eyes adjusted to the dark of the room she found him staring at her, his fingers lightly stroking her face, calming her.

"Bad dream, love?" he asked, continuing to stroke her face. She stared blankly at him for a moment before nodding and closing her eyes, feigning sleep. It seemed like hours before his hand stilled and his lips pressed a kiss to her forehead, in reality it was barely a few minutes. Carefully she rolled over in his arms, smiling slightly as he inched closer and spooned in behind her. Staring into the darkness of the room she thought about her dream, already the images were fading, voices dulled, it was dying. As she relived the last part, of the wolf dying, she shuddered, filling with an unexplainable fear. Fear. Was that what the dream was about? With the wolf she was alone but safe and loved, with her friends she was nothing and ignored. Screwing her eyes up she tried to shut out that image, she knew it wasn't true...didn't she? Thinking Spike had fallen asleep she inched herself out of his embrace and made her way out to the lounge room.

Spike watched from the bed, clearly seeing her walking away in the darkness, her pale body and red hair as bright as any flame in the shadows. Closing his eyes as she disappeared from view he stroked the dying warmth of the bed she had just vacated and listened to her movements.

Willow fumbled in the darkness for a moment, picking up Spike's silk shirt from the floor and putting it on, feeling secure in its cool confines. Although the curtains were still open, they offered little light since the alleyway below had no lighting and the building opposite more or less shut out any natural light the night had to offer. Willow's hands searched the couch, finding Spike's duster and quickly finding the lighter he always had with him. As her fingers curled about it she tugged her hand out and made her way over to the candles closest to the elevator, lighting them, spreading a soft warm glow through the room. The light eased some of her fear, but still it was there, like a lead weight. The dream was almost gone from her memory, shattered images no longer coherent or understandable, but it still haunted her, disturbed her. Sighing she walked over to the stereo, turning the volume down she popped in a CD and pressed play. As the soft melodic sounds broke the silence that had occupied the room she wandered over to the windows, looking out into the dark alley, her arms wrapping about herself.

The music soothed her, tempted her from the fading remnants of the dream as she stared down at the unmoving shadows of the alleyway. Arms wrapped about her, held her, fingers entwining with hers as Spike's jean clad body spooned in behind her. His lips pressed against the top of her head before moving down and whispering against her ear.

"Can't sleep, love?"

Willow sighed and leant back against his naked chest, her thumbs playing with his. It seemed silly to her that a simple dream, not overly violent or frightening could upset her so much. She certainly didn't want to tell Spike that she was, at the moment, unnerved by the darkness and silence.

"Spike?" she asked, glancing down at their entwined hands. Spike dropped a kiss on her silk covered shoulder.

"Mmm?" he murmured rocking her with his body.

"Dance with me?"

"Whatever my Queen desires," he said, stepping back and twirling her around, one hand clasped hers while the other snuck around her waist, drawing her to him. Willow glanced up and caught his eyes, sparkling with mischief, and she giggled as he waltzed her around the softly lit room. He easily manoeuvred them safely about the obstacle course of the lounge area and Willow closed her eyes, losing herself in the sensations of dancing with Spike. As the music changed on the CD so did their dance, with Spike slowing them down so they were barely moving. Willow leant against him, her head resting against his cool chest, her fingers drawing comforting nonsense patterns on his back. The soft music continued to accompany them as they swayed together, comfortable and familiar. Willow was nearly asleep when Spike's arm dropped down to her knees and picked her up, taking her back to the bedroom. Too tired to protest she let him take her back to bed and tuck her in, watching as he lit a few of the candles in their room before discarding his jeans to crawl in beside her. "Is her Majesty pleased?"

Willow giggled as she moved into his arms. "Incredibly so."

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