Disclaimer: This story contains heterosexual sex, as well as non-consensual violence, so consider yourself warned. They're the WB's, I'm just borrowing them. Thanks goes to Luba Kmetyk for beta reading.
"So is this okay with you, Willow?" Buffy asked, not even looking up from the mirror.
"Um, yeah, it's fine. I've got a lot of studying to do anyway. And you should have some time with Riley when you aren't both killing something." Willow forced a smile.
"'Kay. See ya later, all right?" Buffy flashed one of her wide smiles and headed out.
The door closed, and Willow curled up on her bed, her lower lip trembling. She knew that people lost their high school friends when they got to college, but she'd always assumed that happened when friends went off to different colleges and grew apart. But Buffy kept meeting new people, going places with them where Willow wasn't invited. Willow just kept leaving her schedule open in case Buffy wanted to hang out, and ended up sitting alone most of the time.
If Willow's mother took the slightest interest in Willow's life, she would have said that Willow couldn't go blaming all her issues on Buffy. After all, part of the reason Willow's schedule was open was that she didn't have any other friends she really wanted to be with. She liked practicing magic with Tara, but Tara was so needy it was scary. And besides, Willow found it hard to talk to Tara, who was on drugs and disconnected most of the time.
Willow picked up the phone. If Xander was home, she could go have fun with him. Not in the way she would have liked to have fun with him, but after the disaster last year, when they were both dating other people, she tried not to think that way.
He wasn't picking up. Either he wasn't in, or more likely, he was with Anya. That thought made her stomach hurt. Why did he decide to date that obnoxious, embarrassing ex-demon instead of his best friend? She shook that thought off. She had Oz, and Oz was wonderful, and she would never hurt him like that. Again.
Except Oz was gone, with all his stuff, and hadn't even told her when he would be back.
Willow looked up hopefully when she heard a knock at the door. Maybe Xander had stopped by. Or maybe Oz had come back! "Come in!" said Willow, sitting up quickly.
The door opened, and Spike stepped in, fidgeting with something behind his back. It was so hard to think of him as one of the good guys now, ever since the Initiative put the chip in his head.
"Oh," said Willow, "Buffy's not here. She went out with Riley."
"That's all right. I'm not here for her." The corner of his mouth quirked up a little. "Wanted to give you something. A surprise."
"Oh! I like surprises," said Willow, brightening.
Before she could scream, Spike was on top of her, pressing a cloth that stank of chloroform to her mouth and nose. She fought him as hard as she could, but every time she gasped for air or tried to scream, more of the chloroform bit into her lungs, making the world turn blotchy and black.
Willow came awake slowly, her head buzzing. She lay on a soft blanket, but she could feel cold stone below it. Candles lit the room dimly. She was tied, spread-eagle, but when she twisted her head, she couldn't see what she was tied to. She was definitely in a crypt: stone walls, cobwebs--
"You're awake. Good." Spike leaned over her field of vision, then hopped up on the slab and sat beside her. "I was wondering when you'd come around. I don't usually drug people. Slow torture is more my thing."
"I thought you couldn't hurt people anymore," Willow squeaked.
"What, the chip those commandos put in my head? First off, you told me you liked surprises. Second, I haven't hurt you yet. Just scared you a bit. Thought I'd test the limits of that ruddy chip and do you a good turn in the bargain. You've been no fun since dog boy left, always moping around and all."
"So you kidnapped me and tied me up to cheer me up?" Willow struggled and squirmed, but the ropes held tight.
"Well, it always worked for Dru."
Indignation overrode panic. "I get it! You can't have Dru, so you're taking me instead, and pretending you're doing me a favor? No thank you." If this was Spike's crypt, they must be in the graveyard. Maybe Giles and Xander were doing patrol outside. "Help! Guys! Spike's--"
Spike's hand covered her mouth. "That's enough of that, now." He twisted his free hand back, then rushed it forward to hit her. The gesture aborted into a desperate clutch at his head. He tried again, and again ended up clutching his head, screaming in pain. "Why won't you let me hurt you?" he yelled.
"Because I don't want you to hurt me!"
Spike leaned over her, his eyes roving down and up her body before he bent to kiss her. His lips were dry and cool, and explored hers with such surprising gentleness that Willow was too startled to scream.
He planted delicate, probing kisses on her lips, and his hand brushed her hair away from her face, exploring the texture before returning to touch her cheek. As Willow became more sure that he wasn't suddenly going to attack her again, she found herself responding, lifting her head to return his kisses. His face, often twisted with savage pleasure, showed instead one of his rarer expressions of ancient calm as his mouth traveled down to nip lightly at her neck.
Willow froze again, terrified he'd try to bite her and yell at her when the chip stopped him. But instead, his sharp kisses made her fists clench and her legs writhe with pleasure, and she gasped when his teeth found a sensitive spot near her collarbone.
Then he gave her one last, lingering kiss on her mouth and reached down to untie her feet, then up to free her hands, brushing his fingers over her arm in a possessive gesture. "I'm letting you go now. Do you need any help, or are you all right?"
Willow sat up, confused and hurt by Spike's sudden change of direction. "Why'd you stop? Aren't I good enough?" Wait, she thought, what am I saying? I don't want this!
Spike's smile widened. "If I push you too fast, I'll see you on the other end of a wooden stake next time, right? So I'll take this slow and careful." He gave one of his curt nods, like a child who thinks everything is settled on his say-so.
Willow bit her lip and glared at him. If she left, she'd be going along with what he wanted, and if she stayed, she'd be doing the same. Willow hated feeling bullied and manipulated. So she grabbed his hair and yanked his head to hers for a kiss. Before he could get over his surprise and respond, she released her grip and stepped away from him with her arms crossed. "Y-you can't just push me around, you know," she said, cringing mentally at her stutter, but proud of how loud and strong her voice sounded. Then she stormed out of the crypt as best she could, despite her dizziness, into the cool night.
Over the next week, Willow decided against telling Buffy, Xander, or Giles about her bizarre abduction. What could she say, after all? Spike kidnapped me, and he kissed me, and I kind of liked it? They'd think she was crazy, and they'd send out a manhunt for Spike.
Usually, Willow found Spike terrifying, but up-front about his evil and violence. She could trust that what she saw was what she got. Ever since the Initiative had implanted Spike with that chip, he'd turned from a dangerous psychotic into a pitiful annoyance.
But thinking about those gentle kisses sent a rush through her body and made her hug herself tight. Could she trust him? Did he really like her, or was he just using her? A couple of weeks ago, he'd told her he'd fang her in a second. Maybe his sudden switch from trying to hurt her to making love to her had to do with his weird ideas about love. After all, what he'd told her of his relationship with Drusilla didn't sound anywhere near normal. Besides, he was safer now than most college dates. She knew for a fact that he couldn't rape her or hurt her.
So after a morning class, Willow took a sandwich and an apple from the cafeteria and headed back to the graveyard. During the day, it looked peaceful, almost cheery. She knocked on the door of the crypt. "It's me, Willow," she called.
"Come on in," he called back.
She pulled open the door and found him standing out of the light, next to the same stone coffin he'd tied her to a week before. It was obvious now that it was his bed. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, "I forgot you were probably sleeping. I just thought it's lunch time, so we could have lunch together." She held up her sandwich and apple nervously. The room was hazy with cigarette smoke, so she left the door open a little longer than necessary, to air it out, before closing it in deference to his allergy to light.
"I wasn't tired anyway," he said. "Here, sit down. Hope you don't mind if I have a liquid lunch." He opened an ice-packed picnic cooler and took out a large Tupperware container of blood. He dunked a mug into it, licked the droplets from the side of the mug, put the container back, and took the mug back to the stone slab, where he motioned her to take the seat next to him.
Willow sat down and took a bite of her apple, trying not to stare as Spike sipped politely from his mug. "Why did you do it?" she asked finally.
He looked up, distressed. "Didn't you like it?"
"No! I liked it. Um, it was...really nice. But I was just kind of wondering why it happened."
"Well, you know, seize the day. You mortals don't live forever." He wilted under her patient gaze. "It was fun being scary again, you know? And I wanted to get your attention. I like you. You're nice, but you never let me push you around the way the rest of the Slayerettes used to. I mean, I could have killed you back then, but you always stood your ground. I like that. There, I said it."
Willow leaned forward and kissed him, letting her tongue explore his mouth. He tasted cool and sweet, with a slight metallic tang from the blood he'd just drunk. She almost pulled away at that realization, but it was animal blood, after all; would she have pulled away if he tasted like hamburger? His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, and he bent to kiss her neck again, his round teeth biting her throat in parody of what he would have liked to do. She bent her head, kissing and biting his neck in return, surprised and delighted to hear his soft gasp of arousal. When she pulled back to look at him, his hungry eyes locked hers, and his thumbs slid down to circle her nipples through her shirt, then pulled her close again for another deep kiss.
Willow tugged Spike's black tee-shirt over his head and kissed his pale chest, sucking one of his nipples into her mouth and teasing it with her tongue and teeth, then nipping it playfully.
"Ah!" he shouted.
Willow let go of him instantly. "I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you?"
"Yes. Do it again. Please." Nervously, she bit him again, harder, and he caught her hand and ripped her nails down his side, hissing in sudden pain. "Hurt me," he ordered.
Causing someone pain wasn't her idea of fun. "No," she said.
"Please?" He looked so vulnerable, begging her like that, but the thought of hurting someone, even with their permission, made her cringe.
"No--ohhhhh..." she gasped as he pushed her down and began kissing and biting her belly. He pulled off her sweater-knit tee-shirt, sucking on one creamy breast like a baby, his face relaxed and contented. Willow felt a wave of intense love pass over her as she stroked Spike's pale hair, whimpering little cries of pleasure at the sensations his mouth was creating.
Spike slid down her body and knelt at her feet, and Willow propped herself up on one elbow to watch him take off her shoes and socks with careful, exaggerated motions. He leaned forward again and paused with his hands on the button of her jeans.
"Invite me in," he said, his eyes staring deep into hers, his mouth quirking with a mischievous grin.
Unable to speak, Willow slid one hand down to unbutton her jeans and place his hand on her belly. His cool, dry fingers unzipped her jeans and pulled them down, but the look in his eyes assured her he'd be sweaty and trembling if he was human. He bent his head and kissed her belly again, a slow, moist exploration that roamed from one hip to the other, as his fingers pulled off her lavender silk panties. She found herself staring at his shoulders; alabaster skin stretched over lean muscle, collarbones standing out in sharp relief. And then he bent his pale head and kissed a line down the wiry, copper hair and buried his face between her thighs, breathing in her scent for a long moment before venturing for a taste.
"Ohhhhhhoh..oh!" Willow gasped. Something feather-light and sharp kept fluttering against her clitoris, she looked down to discover Spike's pink tongue darting in and out, licking and teasing her with obvious pleasure. He shifted one hand up and slid two fingers into her wet center, rubbing them against one another inside her, making her back arch and her fingers lock in his hair. The sensations were growing more and more intense, and just then Spike looked up at her, hungry and aroused. "Oh, oh, oh Spike, Spike, I-ah!" The pressure burst inside her, pleasure clenching her body and holding her, wrapping her up before throwing her out into the universe again.
Spike slid his fingers out of her and licked each one clean, then bent to lick up every drop of her juices. "Like that, luv?"
Willow pulled him up and kissed him deeply before finally releasing her death grip on his hair. "I um, yeah, I liked that. A lot." She could feel his erection pressing against her side, pushing urgently against his jeans. A little nervous, she fumbled with his black leather belt and unzipped his jeans, exposing bright blue boxers. Spike kicked off his boots and squirmed out of his jeans, then stood their, waiting, watching her.
Willow pulled his briefs down and his shaft sprang free, bobbing up and down. It was hard and thick, but as pale as marble, framed by a nest of black curls, with a full, round sack below. She leaned over and touched it, then kissed the silky tip and ran her tongue over its surface. She was delighted to hear him gasp in shock; she wasn't the only one who could lose control. She slid her tongue down one side and up the other, teasing the rock hard shaft. He groaned in appreciation, but pulled away. "Hang on," he said, sitting up beside her on the stone slab.
He lay down and pulled her on top of him so that she was straddling his waist. She lifted up a little and then slid down so the tip of his shaft pressed at her entrance. His hands braced her waist and he suddenly thrust upwards, burying himself deep inside her. She cried out with the shock of it and heard him gasp, "So hot!" His head was thrown back, and his eyes clenched shut.
Willow began moving up and down, and Spike's eyes opened. "Rub yourself against me on the down thrust," he ordered. She tried it, sliding down his shaft and squirming against his belly before moving up again and felt the shock it sent through her clitoris. She let herself fall into a rhythm, enjoying the sensation of Spike within her, moving easily inside her silky, wet heat. The aftershocks of her orgasm, still tingling inside her, were quickly building in intensity again.
Spike shifted his hands from her waist to her breasts, caressing them and playing with them. He sat up suddenly, keeping her in his lap, kissing her mouth fiercely as she rocked back and forth on him. She could feel him trembling, quivering inside and around her, and suddenly he thrust deep inside her and exploded, crying broken, inarticulate sobs into her mouth as he held her close. The sudden shock sent her over the edge again, and she shouted as her nerves pulsed and sang with delight, her body clenching eagerly around his shaft.
It was a long moment before either of them could move. Spike dropped backwards again, pulling her down to rest beside him on the cool stone slab. He twisted around to pull up a pack of smokes, but Willow put a restraining hand on his before he could light one. He grumbled, but put the smokes back and turned to kiss her forehead and stroke her hair, his hands still shaking. "Stay with me?" he whispered.
Willow kissed his cheek and relaxed beside him, warming him.
"I'll see you later, Buff, I'm going to the library. Much Victorian literature, very smutty in a lacy kind of way." Actually, she was going off to be with Spike, as she'd done almost every night for the past month, but what Buffy didn't know wouldn't hurt her.
"Willow? Can you hang on a minute?"
Willow stopped. Buffy had been acting funny all day. Willow had thought it was just lack of sleep after a late patrol, but it sounded like Buffy was really upset about something. "Sure," she said, sitting back down on her bed again.
Buffy pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. "When were you going to tell me about Spike?"
"Um, what about him?"
"When were you going to tell me you were dating him?" The murmured accusation made Willow cringe inwardly. "I heard some noises on patrol last night, and I heard the two of you and I saw you leave."
"Um, I knew you'd start telling me all the reasons I shouldn't be with him, and I was never really much good at standing up for myself. Except with Spike. I mean, I don't have to worry about hurting him, so I can just say 'no', or 'stop', or 'I don't like that'. And he listens. Sometimes he keeps asking me for stuff over and over, but he doesn't make me feel all small and guilty when I say no. And I like that. And hey, news flash, I'm not the only one who dated a vampire and didn't tell her friends about it."
"That was different. Angel had a soul."
"Well, Spike's got an implant. He's safe. And he makes me feel all happy inside."
"It's not the same thing, Willow. Spike's still evil, he just can't do anything about it. Has he asked you to help him get the chip out of his head?"
Actually, he had. It was one of the main things they argued about. He kept asking her to cast a spell to switch off the chip, and she kept refusing to even research it. It upset her, but Spike always stopped asking after her first refusal and switched to just being with her and loving her. It made it almost fun to say no to him. "Um, I think he asked once," Willow ventured.
"Willow, he just wants to get the chip out of his head so he can go be evil with Drusilla again. He's using you. I don't want you getting hurt."
Willow fought the ugly, twisting feeling in her stomach. "I-I..." There was a long silence as Willow struggled to find the conviction to defend Spike. "I'm really tired. I think I'm going to go to sleep." She curled up on her bed and hid her face in her pillow until Buffy left.
Spike sang along with the song playing on his boom box as he puttered around his crypt, putting some finer touches on the decor, like red satin sheets. They were decadent, and he hoped Willow would like them as much as he did.
The door burst open, and Buffy aimed the crossbow she carried at his heart. "This is for what you did to Willow," she said, and fired.
Spike dodged as he saw her pull the trigger. The arrow caught him in the belly, and he yanked it out. "That's the trouble with Slayers," he muttered to himself, "They don't have to be invited in." At least she'd only had one shot. Could he get past her and get out? Maybe he could distract her, and then make a run for it.
"Hang on," he shouted, "Let's talk about this. Don't you even want to know why I did it?"
"You were using her to get that chip out of her head. You hurt her. Now I get to hurt you." She was advancing with a stake. Spike kept moving around to stay out of range.
"That was part of it. But for God's sake, I've got other plans up my sleeve to that end. I slept with her because I love her!"
"You're in love with Drusilla."
"Yeah, I'm in love with Dru. I'm sure you had only one true love in your life too, right? Willow's beautiful, she's smart, and she fights back. I'm teaching her to fight harder, get her up to my weight class, but she's better than you lot. I like women who I can fight with. Tell me that's not half the reason you go for those Neanderthals; that you like someone who can give you a run for your money, so you don't have to pretend to be smaller than you are for fear of hurting them. She's always stood up to me, even back when I was scary as hell." As he spoke, he kept shifting around her so now he was closer to the door than she was.
"You're still evil, Spike. As soon as you get that chip out of your head, you're going to start hurting people again. And she won't be ready for it. You're not going to do that to her."
"I just can't convince you, can I?" Spike asked. Then he leapt through the doorway and raced off into the night.
Riley knocked on the door and heard Willow ask shakily, "Who's there?"
"It's Riley. Can I come in?"
"Buffy's not here. Please, go away." She sounded like she'd been crying.
"I came to talk to you. Can I come in?" he repeated.
"No."
"Look, I'm betting Buffy already talked to you, and you're probably feeling defensive and lousy, but I want to hear your side of it."
"You're not going to give up, are you?"
"I never do," he said.
"Okay, you can come in."
He opened the door and found Willow sitting on her bed, hugging her knees to her chest. He walked towards her slowly, his hands in full view, and sat down beside her on the bed. "So. Hostile 17."
"His name's Spike. Well, actually, it's William, but everyone calls him Spike. Riley, I've known him for a really long time, and he was always really scary and mean, and then you guys put that chip in his head, and then he was so sad, I mean, killing was his life, and you guys took his life away from him, I mean, that was a good thing, but it was also kind of bad, you know? And then he was so nice to me, and he's never hurt me, he can't hurt me, but I mean he's not even mean to me, and he makes me so happy, and I feel like I'm stronger when I'm with him, and, and, and that's all I have to say." She watched him, waiting for the inevitable criticism.
Riley paused a moment, debating what to say. He'd watched his aunt Charlotte go through this years ago. The more Riley's mom and grandparents had tried to convince her she was wrong, the harder she clung to her husband, so busy defending him that she couldn't think straight for herself. He wasn't about to make the same mistake by telling Willow he'd beat the crap out of her dangerous boyfriend. That would just make Willow defend Spike, and then she wouldn't realize what a mistake she'd made until it was too late. "It sounds like you're really happy with him. I guess that's something good that's come out of the Initiative, if you two can be happy together. I'll tell Buffy to lay off of him, all right?"
"Really? You don't think I'm crazy or stupid?" Willow's face brightened and she uncurled her body from its defensive position.
Riley shook his head and forced a smile. "I think you've got good instincts about people. Hey, you took a chance on me and helped me talk to Buffy, right?" He waited for her to venture a smile, and then he said, "Look, I should probably help call off the manhunt on your boyfriend. Call me if you need anything, or if you want to talk, okay?" He would let her mull things over a little, wrap her mind around the concept. Besides, he needed some time to go pound his fists into a concrete wall. He hated watching and waiting for good friends to admit they'd made terrible mistakes. But they had to realize it for themselves. It didn't make it any easier for him.
Spike ran until he was exhausted. He had to throw the Slayer off the scent, and then go back and talk to Willow, figure out what to do.
"You're a difficult man to catch," came a droll British voice behind him, "Even for someone using divination to find where you were going."
Spike spun around, ready to attack. "Ethan Raine. I thought the Initiative locked you up in a lab. Sorry about that; I know how nasty they can be."
"I escaped. But not before I found out some interesting information. About behavior modification chips. I'm willing to cut you a deal."
Deals with sorcerers were always tricky, and you usually came out with the short end of the stick. You had to be careful, and keep a couple of aces up your sleeves. But if he didn't get this chip out of his head, he couldn't defend himself from Buffy long enough to get near her roommate. "I'm game," said Spike.
"I'll take the chip out of your head. I've got a witch doctor friend who can do the job. And in return, you'll be my bodyguard, protect me from the Slayer and all that."
"For how long?"
"Say, twenty years? Until she starts slowing down. Twenty years is a pittance to an immortal, I'd wager."
This was too fair. Ethan had to have something up his sleeve. Spike couldn't plan for specifics, but he bet he could warn Willow to bring in the cavalry. Not before he got his implant removed, though. "I'll want vacations," he said, as if he really cared, "Days off. I do have a life, you know."
"Standard bodyguard contract, one day off a week, one week off a year."
"Two."
"One. After all, I'm a chaos magician, and that means plenty of murder and mayhem for you."
"Fair enough. It's a deal."
"Good. Meet me tomorrow night at the Happy Car Motel." Ethan formed his thumb and forefinger into a circle and saluted Spike with it, Prisoner style. "Be seeing you."
"I'll be there."
Something tapped at the window, and Willow immediately threw it open. "Spike! You're okay!"
"Got stabbed pretty badly, but otherwise fine. Is it safe to come in?"
"Um, yeah. Riley helped me stop people from trying to make you dead and all. He was really good about that. And Buffy's off being mad at him and me." She sobered suddenly. "Spike? Can we talk a minute?"
Spike hauled himself in the window and looked around the room warily before relaxing against the wall. "Right, luv, what's got you all bothered?"
"Well, Buffy was really mad, so maybe she was just, well, she said that you don't really love me. That you're going to use me to help you get the chip out of your head and then you're going to go back after Drusilla again. So, I wanted to know, is it true?"
Spike tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling for a minute, mouthing some silent prayer at the air. Then he looked straight at her, locking her eyes with his. "Are you still in love with that pouf, Xander? Or dog-boy?"
"No!" She wilted under his gaze. "I'm not. Really."
"Mm. Well, I feel the same way about Dru. And yes, I want to get this bloody chip out of my head, and yes, I'd probably go back to her on my knees if she'd take me, but don't tell me you wouldn't dump me in a second if I went back to normal. You'd stake me yourself before you'd see me cured. You think I like knowing that? It goes both ways. Now you've got three choices. Either you can accept that, and we'll shag each other and not look for anything more in it, or you love me and you'll help me be my old self again, or we part company before we make a worse mess of this. So which is it?"
Willow bit back tears. Why couldn't he even get all hurt and defensive, like a normal person? Why did he have to be so annoyingly right? It made their whole relationship look like this cut-and-dried, pragmatic deal between them instead of something emotional. "I-I don't know."
Spike's face twisted in a grimace. He stepped forward suddenly, and Willow was afraid, but he just dropped something metal into her hand. "Be seeing you," he said, and headed out the window again.
Willow looked down at the object in her hand. It was a toy-sized replica of an antique bicycle, the kind with a huge front wheel and a tiny back wheel. She looked out the window, but there was no sign of Spike. Clutching the bicycle, she walked back to her bed and started to cry.
Spike woke slowly, with an intense headache. He reached up and found someone had shaved his head and left a piece of gauze taped just above his left ear. The witch doctor was gone, now. "Did it work?"
"Like a charm. Of course now you have to do everything I say. You see, I put a spell on you while you were asleep."
I knew you would, thought Spike. He did his best to look shocked and furious. His attempt to hit Ethan was aborted by the same sensation that kept him from entering homes without permission.
Ethan jumped back out of reflex, laughing. "Now, I'm going to make this perfectly specific, so nothing can go wrong. First, I want you to kill Buffy Summers. Then I want you to kill her boyfriend, that tosser who locked me in a lab. After them, I want you to kill Willow and Xander, and Oz, if he's still around. I want all those murders done quickly, and I want the bodies left where they will be found. Then I want you to capture Giles and bring him to me alive. Do you understand?"
"Absolutely." I just spent the last few weeks finding loopholes in that implant's programming, you toerag; do you really think I won't rip your precious plan to shreds? I just have to give Willow enough time to realize what's going on, and she'll break your hold on me to save her friends, even if she doesn't care bollocks for me. Then I'll be free to do whatever I want, starting with killing you.
The urge to kill Buffy was growing stronger by the moment. Spike shifted to vampire form. It was time to go hunting.
Willow ended up going to her classes, but she couldn't concentrate. All she did was fiddle with the little bicycle. And after class, she went home and cried on her bed and hated herself for it. Why did it seem like she spent most of her time crying on her bed? First over Oz, now over Spike. Didn't her life ever change?
The answer to that seemed to be no when Buffy yanked open the door with Riley and Giles close on her heels. "Willow! Thank god you're okay."
"What's wrong?" asked Willow as she scrubbed at her eyes and jumped out of bed.
"Xander is missing," said Giles. "His basement is trashed. More so than usual. And...there was blood."
"Oh no." Willow paled. "Why would anyone kidnap Xander? Were there any clues or anything?"
"Well--" Giles broke off before he could say anything, staring at Willow's hands. "Willow, where on earth did you get a Pennywheel bicycle?"
"This? Spike gave it to me. Sort of a 'good-bye, never want to see you again' sort of thing. We broke up." The announcement brought back the horrible feelings again. Please, Willow prayed, please don't let me start crying again in front of everyone. Finding Xander's more important than me getting dumped.
"May I?" Giles gently took it from her hands and turned it over, examining it closely. "This can't be a coincidence. I think Spike was trying to give you a message."
"What, that he liked collecting dollhouse furniture?" Buffy asked.
Giles frowned at her. "He obviously meant this as a Prisoner reference." At Buffy, Willow and Riley's blank faces, he explained, "It was an old British television show. Ethan Raine's favorite, as a matter of fact. He bought tapes of all the episodes, along with all sorts of silly memorabilia. That was the same time he started worshipping chaos. The symbol of the show was a Pennywheel bicycle. Didn't you people see that junk he lugged to his hotel room when he turned me into a demon?"
"Why didn't he just tell her what he wanted to tell her?" asked Riley. "I mean, what if she didn't understand the message?"
"Did he have time to talk to you?" asked Giles. When Willow nodded, he started thinking out loud. "I think we can assume he knew Willow wouldn't get the reference, but that I would. He wanted time, but then he wanted us to go after Ethan. Which probably means Ethan's back in Sunnydale, instead of being tortured in some government lab. Pity. I wonder if he and Spike are working together, or if we're meant to think they are. Either way, I think we can safely assume one or both of them kidnapped Xander."
"This isn't like Spike," said Buffy. "He's usually pretty up-front about his plots."
"It's exactly Ethan's style, though," said Giles. "It's just like him to throw us into disarray and gloat over the trouble he's caused. I believe they are working together."
"I'm so sorry, Willow," said Buffy, squeezing Willow's hand. "We'll split into two teams: Giles, go with Riley. He doesn't know Ethan and Spike the way you do. Willow, you're with me. You guys check the sewers, we'll check the graveyards and the abandoned warehouses."
Riley pulled a walkie-talkie out of his backpack and handed it to Buffy. "Maintain radio contact."
Buffy clipped it to her jeans. "You too," she said, "I worry."
Spike circled his prisoner, grinning with satisfaction and delight. Xander yanked at the chains that hung him from the ceiling, which made him swing back and forth helplessly. He tried to yell through the sock-and-duct-tape sealing his mouth shut, but only a muffled groan came out.
"I've got orders to kill the Slayer first," said Spike, "You're just bait. I can do anything to you except kill you to end your pain." He gave Xander a friendly push, sending him twisting back and forth. "I'd like to turn you into a vampire, but that technically involves killing you, so that's out of bounds. Might have been fun, though, to let Willow choose between two vampires and a werewolf." He grabbed Xander's waistband in one hand, locking eyes with him. "You know I boffed her. Gave her a right good one. Several, actually."
Xander thrashed violently, screaming inarticulate rage through the gag. Spike laughed. Oh, this was going to be fun. "She's a quick learner, that one. Eager, too. I love the quiet ones. Her and Drusilla, they're two sides of the same coin. Head and Tail." Spike laughed and parried Xander's bound legs before Xander could kick him. "Now, what to do with you? So many choices. Fire works best. Hurts a lot, blisters nicely, the fun can go on for days." He took a cigarette lighter and a pack of smokes out of his pocket and lit a cigarette, smiling when Xander's eyes locked on the lighter. Spike stood up on tiptoe, pulled down Xander's sleeve, and held the flaming lighter against Xander's wrist. Xander screamed and thrashed, but Spike only laughed. "Yes," Spike said, "You'll do nicely."
The door burst open and Spike dropped what he was holding and got into a fighting crouch, but it was only Ethan. "Close the bloody door," Spike snapped, "Some of us are flammable. Aside from this wanker."
"I told you to start with Buffy, and to make them quick kills," Ethan said, "What part of that didn't you understand?"
"Right, you wanted me to go out in ruddy daylight and take on the Slayer? Are you off your nut? I grabbed him right before dawn; this way I don't have to wait for sunset to take the Slayer, she'll come to me. Gets the job done quick, like you wanted."
"The point of doing this quick, you miserable little toerag, was so you could take out the Slayer and that tamed gorilla of hers by surprise! You've jeopardized my plan!"
Exactly. Spike pretended to be offended. "Yeah, and how many Slayers have you killed? I'm telling you, this is the way to do it. You have to get her attention."
"You've got it," Buffy growled from behind them.
Spike dodged behind Xander before Buffy could stake him. On the other side of the room, Willow wrestled with Ethan, but Buffy and Spike kept dodging around Xander, never hitting each other. "He's got me under a spell," Spike shouted as he tried to keep Xander between him and Buffy and avoid the sunlight at the same time. "He's controlling me. Please, you have to trust me, Willow!"
Buffy stopped in her tracks and backed off, watching him. Spike stopped too, his hands outstretched in a placating gesture despite the lighter and cigarette he still held. "Get him down," Buffy ordered. While Spike lowered Xander to the ground, Buffy spoke into a walkie-talkie strapped to her belt. "We found them. 9237 Bean Street."
"We're coming," came a garbled male voice from the other end.
As Spike placed Xander on the ground, Willow ran up to them and stood there for a moment, her sad, frightened face glancing at both of them in turn. Then she knelt by Xander and ripped the duct-tape from his mouth. "Are you okay?"
Xander spit out the sock and rubbed his newly freed wrists. "He burned me! With his lighter! And it hurt!"
Spike grimaced. Why was she so hung up on that miserable, whining, co-dependant wanker when she could have him?
"It's okay. He couldn't stop himself. You couldn't, could you?" Willow's eyes pleaded with his.
"Had no choice. You're going to have to force Ethan to undo the spell, or I'm going to have to attack Buffy soon."
"Be my guest," Buffy growled. Spike ignored her. He hadn't lied to Willow; after all, it had been too tempting to resist after so long on the wagon. He really couldn't help himself.
After Riley and Giles arrived and cheerfully beat Ethan up, Ethan released the spell on Spike. Spike grinned. No rules anymore. He was free to do whatever he wanted.
He squeezed Willow's shoulder, and was relieved to see that though her eyes were those of a hurt animal, she didn't flinch from his touch. "We need to talk," he said, jerking his head to indicate he wanted to move the discussion away from the Slayerettes.
Willow checked the bandage on Xander's arm one last time before she followed Spike He ignored the people watching them, though Willow kept glancing back at her friends nervously. "You, um, shaved your head."
"Yeah, but I'm growing the hair back. Bald's not my look."
"And you, um, you got the implant...un-implanted?"
Spike reached up unconsciously to touch the gauze on the side of his head. "I'd like to stay, if you still want me." He reached out and caught her hands, tracing his thumbs over them. It felt so good to touch her. "Please, luv. We can fix this somehow."
"But we're too different! I mean, we keep fighting over stuff. I'm never going to become a vampire for you, and I'm never going to like torture, and you'll never be a normal, mushy guy who can just be in love with me and make me feel all happy inside. And we'll never really be in love with each other, will we?"
"What were you expecting? Did you think we'd grow old together? Bollocks! Some relationships aren't meant to be forever, they're meant to be important right now and not clutter up the rest of your life. I want to spend tonight with you. And the night after that. And we'll take it one day at a time, and let it go when it stops working out."
"Spike, you like hurting things, and little kids and stuff. I don't think that's the sort of thing we can just talk over. Not unless we're regular guests on Jerry Springer."
"Piffle. Look, I promise I won't hurt you or your friends ever again. What I do on my own time is my business."
"No, it's not. It's my business too. You like doing bad stuff, and one day Buffy's going to have to stake you, and she'll be right and I should have done it first. I can't deal with that. So maybe it's better if you just leave now. Or actually, we'll leave now, and you'll leave after dark. But you should go."
Spike cringed inside. He was being dumped again, and it hurt like hell, and she didn't even show she cared by killing him to make the pain stop, or hurting him so he had a reason for the misery he felt. "Right then. I'm through begging. Go on now."
She kissed him on the cheek, and Spike wanted to die. And then she walked away with her friends, back into the light.
End.