Willow sighed, resting her chin on her hands. She'd danced most of the night, and just wanted to sit for a while. Angel had hovered around her most of the night, making sure no one tried to hurt her. Cordelia was on the dance floor, dancing between Gunn, Wesley, and David. All four of them had drunk a little more than they usually would, and were at the point in the night where they were just partaking in the party and having a good time.

Willow hadn't drunk anything, with the baby coming. Angel also remained sober; he decided he would be the one who took care of everyone. Willow smiled softly, feeling Angel run his fingers through her hair. "You have such silky hair, Little One," he said softly into her ear.

She shuddered, closing her eyes. His voice was low and deep, and rather seductive. "Angel. . ."

"Bloody hell, Peaches, can't keep your hands off her, can you?"

Willow's eyes flew open and she turned, seeing Spike standing there. She jumped off her chair and into his arms. "You are still alive!" she cried, hugging him tightly.

Startled, Spike wrapped his arms around Willow. "Yea," he said. "Did you think I wouldn't be?"

"I just worried," she said softly.

He smiled down at her. "Thanks, pet. Not many of you worry about me anymore." He threw a dirty look at Angel.

Angel's face remained emotionless.

"Spike, do you want to join us?" Willow asked softly.

"Sure," he grumbled. "Why not?" He pulled up a chair between Willow and Angel.

Angel raised an eyebrow. "You are sitting next to me?"

"Rather sit next to you than to let her sit by you," Spike muttered angrily. "She's mine, Peaches."

Willow crossed her arms. < I'm so tired of their fighting. I cannot handle this for eternity, if the spell really did work. I'll kill them both. > "I happen to not belong to anyone, thank you."

Both of them looked at her. "Now that's not true, pet. You are mine."

"But, Willow, my soul is bonded to your soul!" Angel cried.

"Actually," Willow said, "I don't think the spell worked. I think Angel is just in a wiggy mood. And as for you, Blondie, you haven't even tried to kiss me or ask me out on a date, or anything. I'm going to dance with someone."

"Who?" both of them asked possessively, leaning forward.

"It doesn't matter, as long as he's not either of you." Willow spun around and walked out to the dance floor. It didn't take but just a minute for a tall, handsome guy to sweep her up in his arms and dance her around the floor.

Spike leaned back, growling low in his chest. "I say we kill him."

"Eviscerate him," Angel agreed.

Spike turned his head slightly, eyebrow cocked. "Really?"

Angel caught Spike's hopeful look and smiled. "I wish. The soul is still too much in control. But that doesn't mean I can't dream."

"Evisceration. It's best with the spikes, you know," Spike murmured.

"I always wondered where that came from."

"Some chit I was trying to eat in. . .I think 1912, she tried to kill me with a rusty old spike. I turned it on her. Fortunately, there was a Watcher and a Slayer near by, and the Watcher went on and on in the diaries about the insane brown haired vampire who killed with spikes. So I kept a few for the fun of it. Dru started calling me Spikey, and it stuck." Spike shrugged. "I have a hard time remembering my name is William now."

"William," Angel said softly, his lips inches from the blonde's ear.

Spike suppressed a shudder. "You. . .you were talking about gutting the bloke with his hands on Willow?"

"Can you imagine how warm the blood would be if we cut into him, slicing the flesh so cleanly, drinking him as he howled in pain. . .the screams. . .I miss the screams, William. . ."

"So do I," Spike murmured, his eyes locked on Willow's dancing form.

Angel was watching her too, imagining being with her, sharing her with his favorite childe. He ran his fingertips along Spike's neck. "And then going to his house and finding his sisters. . .listening to their pain filled cries as we shove the dead body in the house. . ."

"Would we burn them to death?" Spike asked, his voice hopeful. He was lost in the moment, in the memories of pillaging with his sire.

"If you wanted to, my boy," Angel whispered. He brushed his lips against Spike's ear, causing the younger vampire to jump slightly. "Watching the fire roar, watching the shadows play on your face, bringing out the highlights in your brown hair. . ." He chuckled softly. "Though I suppose now I would be watching the fire make your hair shine."

Spike turned suddenly, grabbing Angel's shirt and pulling him inches from his face. "I can't kill, damn it. I cannot kill with this bloody chip in my head. I think we should shag."

Angel blinked in surprise. "What?"

"You wanker! You have gotten me so turned on now, I want to shag or kill, and I can't kill! We need to leave. Now."

Angel smirked, slipping his hand in Spike's lap, cupping his erection. "So I see." He stood up and pulled his jacket on. "Gotta get the kiddies. Most of them are sloshed, and I can't leave them here to their own devices."

"No," Spike growled. "Now. I need this now. I don't want the Poofy Ballerina. . ."

Angel grabbed Spike by the shirt and yanked the younger man to his body. "If you don't stop calling me a ballerina, I'll make it hurt, boy."

Spike shuddered. "With holy water and crosses?"

A devilish grin formed on Angel's lips. "Holy water and crosses."

"Get the children. We are leaving now."