RATING: NC-17 overall
SPOILERS: Season 6 through "Normal Again."
DISCLAIMER: All hail Joss Whedon, UPN, the WB, FOX, Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. GO team! Theirs, not mine.
DEDICATION: For Annie, cheerleader extraordinaire.
DISTRIBUTION: Please ask my permission first, just so I know where it's headed.
FEEDBACK: Sure, fire away to firstname.lastname@example.org
He poked his head around the brick wall, a sheepish expression on his face. "You caught me, Red." He sauntered over to me, his hands shoved in his pockets. "How'd you know I was there?"
"You're as subtle as an elephant," I lied. "I'm surprised that you ever managed to bite anyone. Stealthy you're not."
He looked offended. "I am too. I've been following you home every Wednesday night for weeks."
"You've been following me?" I asked, perplexed. "Why?"
"I didn't want anything to get you," he explained. "You're a succulent little morsel, pet. Might as well hang a fast food sign around your neck."
I laughed. "Don't worry, Spike. I haven't had anyone try to eat me lately." The second it was out of my mouth, I regretted it. I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks as I blushed.
"No one's tried to eat me lately either. It's a damn shame." His eyes glimmered with humor.
"So, back to the why you're stalking me thing." He walked beside me, matching his stride to mine.
"I know you go to St. Jude's on Wednesdays for your Spellcasters Anonymous meeting," he said. "You walk past three cemeteries to get there. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Without your magick-" He broke off, looking at me sideways.
"I can take care of myself," I retorted. I pulled my stake out of my coat and pointed it at him.
"Hey now!" he exclaimed as he jumped back. "None of that. Just trying to be useful."
"I'm really sick of all of you acting like I'm helpless," I said angrily. "I'm not Dawn. You don't need to baby-sit me." I chucked the stake into my massive tote bag.
"I've got nothing better to do," he said. "My nights are free lately." There was an odd undercurrent in his voice.
"Not getting much action with Buffy?" I asked. He looked startled. "Slayage slow this time of year?"
"Oh." He shook his head. "No, Slayer doesn't want me around anymore." He kicked a rock, sending it flying swiftly through the air.
"She's been kind of distant," I commented. "Either that or slightly wiggy. I wouldn't take it personally. She hasn't been in share mode very much, not since I brought her back."
We walked quietly together through Sunnydale. "I'm bored, Will," he sighed. "I like having a goal, something to work toward to. I'm at loose ends."
"You could spend time with Dawn," I suggested.
"Every time I try to get together with her, she's going to Tara's or Janice's," he complained.
"Well, aside from studying and going to meetings, I don't have much going on," I said. "If you wanted to, we could do things sometimes. It would be more fun than stalking me down a dark alley."
"Although that is kind of fun. I can pretend that you're my next meal, and I'm sneaking up on you to bite you." He said it so wistfully, that I felt sorry for him.
"Do you want to make it a game?" I asked. "We could, if you wanted to. I can pretend to be very scared and scream really loud for you."
He looked at me. "Would you really?" he said hopefully. He shook his head. "But that's stupid. You're just humoring me."
"It would be fun," I replied. "Really. I want to."
He smiled at me. His whole face lit up, and I was struck by how handsome he was. I tried to remember the last time I'd seen him smile, and I couldn't. "Okay, but not now. You're expecting it, so that's no fun." He looked thoughtful. "You keep walking home like normal." He disappeared into the night, slipping away in the blink of an eye.
I whistled softly as I walked down the street. I was surprised to find that I was enjoying myself. Life had been very short on fun since Tara. I shook the thought away, not wanting to sink back down to self-pity. She was dating someone else now, I'd seen them together and mutual friends had confirmed it. Turn that frown upside down, I thought to myself. That way lies crying jags and cookie dough binges.
I was nearly home, so I turned past Revello Drive and headed towards the cemetery. I trudged across the field, passing the playground. The swings swayed in the wind, and my skirt flew wildly around my ankles. I walked through the cemetery gates. The moon was high in the sky, and the marble tombstones glowed.
I bent over and picked a dandelion, bursting out all over in fuzzy tufts. "I wish I could get over Tara," I said, and blew the fluff off it in one large puff, watching the seeds scatter, seized by a strong gust in the air. Suddenly, I was tackled from behind, sliding across the dewy grass. I smiled to myself. Good one, Spike. I let out a long, shrill scream as I flipped over to face my attacker.
It wasn't Spike. My scream shifted to a real one as I looked up at the ridged face snapping near my own. "Yummy," hissed the female vampire. She was about my size, but incredibly strong. She pinned my arms to the ground as she sank her fangs into my neck. I kicked at her with my legs, making as much of an impact as a butterfly bashing against sheet metal. The bite stung, the pain in my neck making me whimper.
Abruptly, she was gone. My mouth and eyes were full of dust and I coughed raggedly, my eyes watering. "Willow," cried Spike. "Oh, bloody hell." He leaned over and pulled me up. "Are you okay, love?" His eyes scanned my face as he held tightly to my shoulders.
"She bit me," I whined, sounding about four years old. I handed him my bag. "Can you find a tissue in there?"
"Poor girl," he said soothingly. "We'll get you all fixed up." He rummaged through the bag and handed me a Kleenex. I pressed it to my neck, trying to stop the flow of blood. He put his arm around me and we walked towards my house. "I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault," I said. "It was stupid of me to walk through the cemetery without a stake in my hand."
"Well, you were expecting me," he countered. "You weren't planning to actually stake me."
"Maybe I should have been," I said, wincing. "God, this really hurts. Harmony was more delicate than stupid dusty vamp bitch."
We walked up the steps to the house and I opened the door. The house was dark and empty. I flipped the light on and walked upstairs to the bathroom, and Spike followed behind. I tossed away the soaked tissue and looked at the oozing bite mark. I opened the medicine cabinet, looking for gauze to stem the flood of blood.
"It won't clot for fifteen minutes or so," he explained. "Our fangs emit an anti-coagulant. You have to wait for it to wear off."
"I'm starting to feel dizzy," I told him. I sank down on the toilet and tried to stay upright.
He kneeled down before me and held my shoulders. "Just relax," he suggested, his eyes locked on my neck. I could feel the blood dripping down, pooling on the collar of my shirt. "I'll take care of you." His pupils were dilated, and he was breathing fast.
My vision was starting to blur and I felt my head start to tip to the side. "I'm falling," I said faintly. He pulled me into his embrace and closed his mouth over the wounds in my neck. I felt a gentle sucking, and a warm feeling flowed through me, like honey in my veins. I began to tingle, the sensation spreading from my head to my groin.
He groaned a low guttural sound that made me wet between the thighs. He did it again, and I grabbed tightly to his neck. He was still sucking, and it felt so good, in a primal way than I shouldn't be feeling with Spike. I was vividly reminded of how long it had been since I'd had sex. I let out a moan, and it was a raw, naked noise, a noise I'd never made in front of anyone who wasn't my lover.
He sucked harder, and I slid off the toilet seat, landing on his lap. I felt the bulge in his pants against the thin cotton of my panties. The blood was getting to him, just as the sucking was getting to me. He growled against my neck, making me gasp. His hands grabbed the curve of my ass and pressed me against his erection, deliberately rubbing my clit against the head of his cock. It was too much, the hardness of him against me, the liquid feel of his mouth against my neck. I began to move, sliding up and down on him, the nearly forgotten rhythm of dry petting. I thought of Oz, of nights in the back of his van, rubbing against each other for hours, driving each other insane through our clothes. A cool hand slid beneath my shirt and cupped my breast, and suddenly I wasn't thinking of anything except Spike.
He licked my neck as he gently fingered my nipples. We rocked against each other, and I felt him swelling underneath me, growing even harder and more insistent. I felt the tension building, and building, and building, and I came, crying out as my hand tightened on his neck, my nails scoring his flesh.
He pulled away from my neck, his demon in full force, and my blood on his mouth. "Yes," he said throatily. His hand moved away from my breasts and he unfastened his pants. His cock was large and thick, fierce and red, weeping with arousal. His eyes opened and he looked at me, his tongue lapping my essence into his mouth. I'd never had anyone look at me that way before, as if I was the most desirable woman on earth and the tastiest snack ever.
He shook his head, and the demon melted away. I put my hand on his cock, and I caressed him, quickly learning the tempo that he wanted. He pressed his face against my chest and made noises, sharp and uncensored cries of need. He began to move his hips wildly and I lost the rhythm, causing him to cry out in frustration. He pulled back and pressed his hand down on my head, dipping my mouth towards his crotch.
I tilted him back against the wall and leaned over, taking the head of his penis between my lips. He bucked upwards, and my mouth was filled with his length. He was very large, and I gagged, quickly pulling away so I didn't choke. His hand covered the back of my neck. "Please," he said, his voice quivering. "Sweet, darling girl." He petted my skin with his fingertips, and the salty taste of him seeped into my mouth, his precome leaking onto my tongue. I felt a rush of confidence, pleased by his desire for me. I began to suck slowly, getting to know his taste and adjusting to his size. He murmured appreciatively, his hands massaging my neck.
"I'm coming," he gasped, his hand tightening in my hair. "Oh, fuck, Red." He jerked within my mouth, filling it with his semen. I gulped it down until he slipped out of my mouth, soft and sated. I pulled away and stood up. He rested against the wall, his eyes shut.
Reality hit me full into the face as I looked down at Spike. I was embarrassed, and upset with myself. I backed away, toward the door. He looked up at me, his expression clouded. "I'm sorry," I babbled. "I don't know why this happened."
He stood up and fastened his pants. "Please, don't leave," he said, reaching out to me. I turned away and he grabbed my fingers. I turned around to see him staring at me, his eyes a clear blue. "I'm not a selfish git. I don't go round shoving my cock in girls' faces."
"I'm sure you don't," I stammered. "I'm just going to go to sleep, and I'll see you later, and we'll be back to normal."
He pulled me to him and kissed me. It was a deep, hard kiss, and I felt it everywhere. "I want to fuck you, Willow," he murmured. "I'm a good lover. Let me prove it to you."
It was tempting, more tempting than his blunt request should have been. I wanted to feel his mouth on mine again. His eyes bored into me, and I wanted him inside me. "No," I said. "Really, we shouldn't.".
"Don't you want me?" he asked intently, his hands sliding up my arms. I shivered at his touch, my body responding enthusiastically. "Willow," he whispered, bending his mouth to mine again. Our kiss deepened as he slipped his leg between my thighs. His tongue lapped inside my mouth as he rubbed against my swollen nub. He guided my hand between his legs and he was hard and ready. I trailed my fingers along the outline of his erection, making him shudder. My hand clenched its firm shape through his pants as I achieved a sharp, intense climax.
He slid off my shirt and pulled up my skirt, the touch of his hand raising goose bumps on my skin. He shoved my panties aside and unzipped his jeans. I thought about suggesting we move to the bedroom, but that seemed too calculated. Spur of the moment in the bathroom I could justify, but not leisurely sex in my bed. I tried to just feel, focus on the sensations, and not think.
He kissed me deeply as he lifted me against the wall. Strong hands held tightly to my hips as his hard cock slipped inside me. I cried out, in pain and pleasure. The sudden pressure inside me was intense as I stretched to accommodate his length. He moved his mouth from mine, making a strangled noise. We began to move, and I wrapped my legs around him, taking him deeper within. He smiled at me, licking my lower lip. "Scream for me," he whispered. "Let me hear how much you like this." My blood flowed into him as he bent his head and fed, and the pleasure increased twofold. I did as he asked. I cried out with pleasure, peaking violently as he surged within my body. As I began to wind down, he moved his mouth to mine. His tongue conquered mine, dominating me, and I surrendered.
"I need more," he growled, as he licked my shoulder. Fangs skimmed across my skin as he bit down and cried out in pain. "Fucking chip." He twisted his torso around, still within me, reaching into the cabinet. Bottles crashing into the sink as he swatted them aside. "Aha." Turning back to me, he slipped a razor blade in my hand.
"Willow," he said intently. "Please let me drink some more blood. It's been so long, you can't understand what this means to me. I want more of you." I looked in his eyes, and there was nothing to fear in them. Just need, and a hunger so deep that it hurt to see it.
I drew the sharp edge across my skin, burning a delicate trail across my shoulder. He pulled out and spun me around, his mouth closing over the cut as he began to suck. My hands slammed up on the wall as he took me from behind. His cock slid inside me, filling me completely. Our rhythm increased until I was shoved up on my tiptoes, barely hanging on to the wall with my fingertips. He held me possessively, one hand clenched around my breast while the other clung to my hip. "I can feel you inside me, just like I'm in you." My knees began to shake as I began my second orgasm. "Oh, yes," he whispered in my ear. "I feel it, love."
"Oh, Spike," I said breathily. "Oh, Spike."
The pace quickened as he held my waist and lifted me higher, so that I was suspended above the floor. His balls slapped against me, his breath coming hard in my ear. "Let go," he demanded. "Give it up."
I did. I cried out as he sucked on my shoulder again. It was like nothing I'd ever experienced before, a total body quake with full pyrotechnics. The sensation went on and on, in long steady waves, as a riot of color exploded behind my closed eyes. His arms wrapped around my waist as he came, roaring as he shook with pleasure. He let me go and I slid down the wall, falling at his feet.
He sank down beside me, and we both lay on the floor, panting as we stretched out on the cool tile. My body still throbbed, trembling with aftershocks from my release. He rolled on top of me, and pulled off what was left of our clothes, then carried me to my room, closing the door behind him. "Not here," I pled. Not in my bed, where Tara and I had made love.
"Don't want to remember me this way, pet?" he said cynically. I opened my mouth to respond, but he covered it with a gentle kiss. I sighed despite myself. He felt so good. I felt his erection brush across my thigh, and he sank inside me, pressing me into the softness of my bed. "Look at me," he said, brushing my jaw.
He looked down at me fiercely, his gaze intent. "What do you want?" I asked. He didn't answer, just continued to move deliberately back and forth. "You feel so good inside me." Skin pale in the moonlight, his muscles rippled as he worked. "You're so beautiful."
He smiled down at me. "So are you, witch," he said. I pulled his mouth down to mine. He kissed me carefully, long, languid kisses that left a sweet glow through me.
He moved his mouth to my nipple and sucked languorously, long slow pulls that I felt down to my toes. The slow rhythm of his thrusts and the feeling of his mouth were more than I could stand for long. I grabbed a fistful of sheets, arching up as I hit my peak. "Oh, God," I cried out. "Ah, Spike. A wave of pleasure overwhelmed me and I closed my eyes tightly. I opened them to see Spike gazing down at me, his head tilted. "Don't stare," I said breathlessly.
"Why not?" he asked, as he drew his fingertips across my cheek.
"You make me feel all naked," I replied.
"You are," he said, kissing my jaw. "Gloriously naked underneath me." His hands brushed over my shoulders and across my breasts, so tenderly. He began to slide back and forth again inside me, and I closed my eyes, lost in rapture.
The front door slammed and footsteps echoed up the stairs. I snuggled closer to Spike as he tightened his arm around my waist. There was a knock at the door, and it opened slowly. "Will?" said Buffy. The light from the hall seeped into the room.
"I'm not alone," I called out. "Shut the door."
"Sorry," she whispered.
"Guess that answers the question of if you ever do knock," said Spike sleepily. Buffy stood in the doorway for a moment, a shadow standing in front of a bright light.
"Shut the door, please," I repeated, turning over to avoid the light. Spike threw his arm over me and spooned into my back. The door shut quietly, barely making a noise.
Something shattered in my bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, a rim of light glowing in the dark. "It doesn't have chuck all to do with you," hissed Spike. "It has to do with her and I. No one invited you to the party."
"It is about me," she countered. "You chose her just to hurt me. You didn't sleep with the ho at the wedding to spare my feelings, but you'll fuck my best friend in my own house?"
"That was before you told me that I wasn't part of your life, Slayer," he whispered. "If that's true, nothing I do should bother you, should it?"
"If you ever cared about me, you wouldn't do this," Buffy said, choking up. "You wouldn't put me through this. Having to see you naked in her bed-"
"You didn't want me in yours," he said bitterly. "You never let me stay, not once."
"I had my reasons," she explained. "I wasn't intentionally trying to hurt you."
"You never cared about my feelings, not ever," he parried. "If I slept with Willow, it's no concern of yours. Once I loved you, but that's over now. You bloody well ended it yourself, didn't you?"
There was a silence, and then the slamming of a door. The light turned off and Spike came back to my bed. He slid next to me, and tenderly kissed my shoulder. "Please go now," I asked him, trying not to cry.
"Willow-" he began.
"Please just go," I asked. "I don't want to hear about it. I don't want to know."
"This isn't about Buffy," he insisted. "It's-"
"You used me to hurt her," I cried, the hot tears running down my face. "That's the only reason that you were here. You wanted her to find us. You wanted to make sure she knew."
"That isn't true," he crooned, as he wiped away my tears. He bent to kiss me and I shoved him away. He looked at me, startled.
"Get out of my room before I magick you out," I threatened. "I'd be happy to turn you into a frog, or a newt, or something else gross and slimy."
His face changed, becoming something closed and hard. "Fine." He rolled out of bed and stalked to the bathroom. I heard him bang around inside, zipping his jeans and tying his boots, before the door crashed shut.
I couldn't stay asleep that night. Restless, I stirred, waking from dreams of him, reaching out for someone that wasn't there. I buried my face into the pillow, and it was covered with his scent. I could still feel his touch on my body and taste him on my lips. Humiliation and anger overwhelmed me and I cried again, long jagged sobs that tore at my throat and made my head hurt. Finally, exhausted, I slipped into a dreamless slumber.
I woke to the sound of birdsong outside. It was still dark outside, and I leaned over and flicked on the light. Rose petals were everywhere, spread across the bed, the floor and the windowsill. A bouquet of roses rested on the pillow, where Spike had slept beside me. I picked up the card. "Once, twice, thrice I loved you, here in this bed. It won't be the last." I walked to the window and drew back the curtain. He stood in the back yard, lit cigarette in hand, watching and waiting.