Back 2 Good

TITLE: Back 2 Good (Part Four of Red's Fire)
AUTHOR: Jinni (jinni@witchslove.com)
COUPLE: Willow/Spike
RATING: R - just to be safe.
DISTRIBUTION: My site and Tienco's site. All others please ask.
DISCLAIMER: All belongs to Joss Whedon. Gosh, I wish I were Joss. I'd have such a good time with Spike. . .and Angel. . .and Xander. . .and Graham. . . and Lindsey. . .throw Willow and Faith in there and it's a party!! MatchBox 20 owns 'Bent.'(quoted losely throughout the fic)
FEEDBACK: Of *course*. Makes me write more.
SPOILERS: Mentions stuff that happens at the end of Season Four.
SUMMARY: Willow gets angry, and decides to do something about it. . .
NOTES: Tienco and I are planning to write several more of these fics, in Willow and Spike's POV, all based on MatchBox 20 songs, cause, well, there are so many that are perfect to this relationship I've created.
NOTES 2: This takes place during their sophomore year. Everything else you will be able to pick up from the storyline.
NOTES 3: In case you haven't noticed yet. Tienco does even numbered parts from Will's POV and I do odd numbered parts from Spike's POV.
DEDICATION: To *my* partner-in-crime ~*~Tienco~*~
Feedback: Of course I want it! If I didn't I would just post this on my site and forget about it instead of letting you guys read it too! *giggle*

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"Did you ever think it would be anything more?"

Those friggin words are nearly my undoing. There she was, looking at me with her big green eyes all innocent and wide, and telling me we would never be anything more than what she had made us? Who in the bloody hell does the chit think she is? She should be damn lucky I’m not ripping her head off her shoulders and drinking her dry.

“If that’s the way you want it, sweets.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. Might as well continue. “Next time you need a good shag, ring Peaches – he always did have a thing for uptight little sluts.” I’m grinning now and my eyes are as cold as my heart. “And afterwards, when the soul is gone and he’s tearing you apart. Remember what you could’ve had.”

She’s just standing there and I could say so much more. But I don’t go there, cause I don’t want to. I just look at her one more time, remembering the feel of her hot body on mine.

Then I’m gone. Out of her house, into the night, my legs carrying me as far from the memories of the red haired whore as I can run. She used me and left me.

And I let her live. Cor, I’m getting soft.

The demon is screaming for blood now, wanting to prove that it hasn’t gotten soft not one bloody bit. So blood it shall have. The town has gotten a little smarter over the years, there aren’t many happy meals wandering the streets after dark. Bloody shame. There’s still one place a demon can get a good meal though, and I find myself almost jogging towards it.

Some god awful little band is on stage when I walk in the doors of the hell known as the Bronze and I take a moment to look through the crowd as I light up a fag. The warm air fills my lungs, reminding me for one second of what it was like to be alive – to feel warmth. Only for a second though, the demon doesn’t much like being reminded of sappy crap like that.

I see her from across the room almost immediately and know she will be the one. She alone out of this sea of humanity will be the one to die tonight. And why? Because of that bloody red hair falling around her sickly pale shoulders – because she reminds me of Red.

“Hello, luv, can I buy you a drink?”

She looks up at me with blue eyes, a smile on her whorish lips. She’s not Willow, but she’s close enough to sate my demon. “Sure.” Her single word sounds like a million bloody nails on a chalkboard to my ears.

I order her a drink, wooing the bint with silky words and my ‘charming’ accent until she’s practically eating out of my hand. I wonder if she has any clue that she’s second best. Just an effin replacement for a goddess that I had in my arms for one bloody night. Probably. Everyone here knows everyone here is thinking about somebody else.

Suddenly she’s there, sitting a few tables away when I look up. My goddess. Willow. My eyes meet hers and its like she’s staring through me. She doesn’t even act like I bloody exist.

Stupid cock-tease whore!

I’m leaning in closer to the cow next to me, my eyes still on the goddess who haunts my every thought and I know I am hoping to make her jealous – even if just a little. “Ya know, luv. I was thinking, if you are lonely, maybe we could leave here and no one would know. At least not to the point we would think so.”

Again her painted lips spread in a smile and my demon wants nothing more than to rip them off. To tear them off of her festering hole of a face and lick the blood from her as it pours down her chin.

“Sounds like fun.”

Why couldn’t she just bloody nod?!? Why did she have to open her gob again? I can’t repress the shudder that works its way through me as I lead her out one of the back doors of the club. I throw her against one of the dirty walls of the alley, her scream of pain like music to my ears.

I’m kissing her, -hard-, muffling the sounds of her screams with my lips even as I bite at the tender flesh of her mouth. Her blood is dripping down her chin, staining the white t-shirt she had worn for her ‘night on the town’.

I bet this is one night she’ll never forget.

The kiss is broken and my hand covers her mouth. I can feel her pulse beneath my lips, racing like the heart in her chest. My demon screams with triumph as I take her life, imagining at least for one second that she is the one who bloody well betrayed me.

She’s not Red, though. I would never do this to my witch. Unless she asked me to, of course.

I drop the body without another thought, ripping off a piece of her shirt to wipe my mouth on. Can’t have my goddess see me all bloodied. She’ll think I have no effin manners, no better than a freshly turned fledgeling.

Why do I care what she thinks? She made it clear she doesn’t want me! Just wanted to bloody use me for her own pathetic needs! The alley is echoing with my growls, my hands slamming into the wall – punching mindlessly at something I can’t fight.

Lust. Desire. Need.

All bloody intangible and hard as hell to get rid of. I’m not sure if I even want to get rid of them. She’s fire and I bloody well –need- her. I need to warm myself in the fire of her passion – get burned on it.

Would tying her up and torturing her work? It worked once or twice with Dru. I don’t think Red would like to be tortured though. Tied up for sure – torture I doubt it. She seems more like the type who’d want to do the torturing to someone else. Yet another reason she is perfect for me.

The club is just as noisy when I come back in as it was when I left. Its no wonder that no one noticed the stupid bint screaming bloody murder only a few feet away.

She’s watching me now. My goddess. She doesn’t think I see her, but I do. I can feel her flaming green eyes piercing my body. Like a bloody stake. So I do the last thing I should do. The last thing she expects me to.

I sit down next to her.

She doesn’t even acknowledge I’m there, just nods her head to the music. Her hair looks like molten lava. Its just like the fire within her.

I want to feel that bloody fire again.

But she won’t even speak to me. Won’t give me enough effin courtesy to even meet my eyes. I can feel her warmth even from across the table. What I wouldn’t give to lose myself in her. To throw her down and shag her in front of all these pathetic excuses for take out that are dancing to the god awful band on the stage. I reach out to touch her hand, surprised when she doesn’t pull away.

She’s wet. I can smell it even amidst the press of bodies around me. The smell is light and barely recognizable through the haze of smoke and stale alcohol. Breathing in, I look over at her in time to see her eyes dart back out into the crowd. She had been looking at me. Sneaky little girl. Getting all randy sitting next to a bloody Master vampire that you can’t even admit you like.

“Come on, ducks.” I whisper, pulling my chair closer to hers and noting that she never once looks at me. “This is tiresome. If you see me out you don’t know me? Try to turn your head, try to give me some room? I don’t want any bloody room. I just want –you-, Red. And I know you want me too.”

She turns her head then and I hear her gasp. Finally! I’m getting through to her.

“Buffy.”

“What about Slutty, pet? Worried I’m going to tattle to her royal bitchiness?” Its not a bad idea, though, and the red head is pissing me off enough to do just that.

“No.” Her eyes are cold, heartless as she looks at me and I understand for the first time what it would be like to face her as one of my kind. She would be a spectacular demon – the fire burning brighter in her death than ever it did in life. “Over there!”

I turn my head, following her finger with my eyes. Sure enough, the bloody Slayer is coming my way. Farmboy in tow. Just bloody effin marvelous.

Oh well. Guess she’s going to find out about Red and I now.

“Bitchy! So great to see you again.”

“Spike.” I notice the cow doesn’t even spare Willow a glance. Could it be true? Could the two ‘best mates’ not be speaking to each other? “Do I have you to thank for the dead girl out back?”

I smirk at her. “Never thought you’d be thanking me for that, pet. But if you insist.”

“You are so dusted.”

The laughter is pouring from my mouth before I can stop it and I feel my little goddess slap me on the back, low so that Slutty can’t see it. “I don’t think so, Bitchy. Now, can you go away? I’ve already got a date for the night.”

The witch gasps as I put my arm around her shoulders and I can tell she wants to pull away, wants to scream at me to stop while all the time begging me to stay. It hits me then that she doesn’t care if the Slayer sees us together. She wants them to find out, wants to see them be shocked to their bloody graves.

Let it never be said that I disappointed a lady. “Please leave, Slayer. I want to wine and dine my witch before taking her home for a good shag,” I pause, licking along the red head’s jaw line. “Again.”

The Slayer is pissed now. “Oh come on, Willow.” She’s hissing. “Is this the best you can do? Get Spike to act like your little boytoy?” I see her roll her eyes and want to tear them out of their pretty little sockets and feed them to Iowa one by one, watch him choke on the little blood covered orbs of his ‘love’.

“Oh believe me, Bitchy, its no act.” I lean down to kiss Willow’s forehead. There’s a small vein throbbing on her neck and I can tell that she is irate. She wants a piece of the slayer and I can’t say that I blame her.

“You should leave now. Before I decide to just stake you in front of everyone.”

The red head tenses up beneath my hands and I can almost read her mind. She’s angry that someone is threatening what is hers – wants to tear the Bitch apart with her bare hands.

Bloody hell. She just might want me like I want her.

I lean in close, whispering, “I’m lonely now, and I don’t know how to get it back to good. But I’d like to try, pet. You know how to find me.” She nods and I step away, keeping an eye on the irate little blonde glaring at me.

“This isn’t over, Slayer.” I give the red head another look before I turn to go, whispering in a voice I knew only she would hear. “Give her hell, Red.”

END

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