0 comments/ 26407 views/ 0 favorites V.I.T. Ch. 1 By: badgirl298 Spike and Willow. Season 3, set after "Lover's Walk" "A spell. For me. You're gonna do a spell for me." Spike growled. "Uh. . .w-what kind of spell?" "A love spell! Are you brain dead?" Willow rolled over, clutching a pillow to her chest but still the phantom words echoed in her sleeping mind. "You lie to me and I'll shove this through your face! Do you want that? All the way through to your brain!" "No. Please no." Willow turned over again. "Nightmare." She mumbled, still deep in her own dream. Tears began to leak from her eyes as she shuddered on the bed, cowering from the phantom Spike. "That smell. Your neck. I haven't had a woman in weeks." The vampire groaned. "Whoa! No! Hold it!" "Unless you count that shopkeeper." Willow thrashed in the bedcovers and still the images flashed in her mind, cringing before Spike, Xander laying helpless and bleeding on the bed. There was no place to run to, no where to hide. "Now hold on! I'll do your spell for you. . .and. . . and. . . I'll get you Drusilla back. But there will be no 'bottle in face' and there will be no 'having' of any kind with me. Alright?" "No! Don't, please don't, Spike-" Willow cried, clutching the pillow tighter. "Please don't what?" A British accented voice asked. She heard it, clear as anything. She was awake suddenly, as if she'd been doused in ice water. Please. . .please. . .please. . .let it be Giles, gulp, that would be weird and require therapy but not deadly. Or Wesley! That would be annoying but not fatal. Unless you could die from boredom. But somehow she knew it wouldn't be either. Willow's eyes flew open and reality settled in. It wasn't a dream. "No! This isn't happening!" Willow screamed as she sat upright in bed. The room was under a veil of darkness. . .and she could barely make out the shadowy form of Spike beside her. Willow shut her eyes very deliberately. One. . .two. . .when I open. . .three. . .my eyes,. . .four. . . there won't. . .five. . . .be a vampire. . .six. . .there staring. . .seven . . .eight. . .at. . .nine. . . .me. . .ten. She opened them. But 'shadowy Spike' was still there and a throaty chuckle issued form his obviously hoarse throat. A match flared and sparked a glowing ember on the tip of a menthol cigarette. He blew the smoke out in a hazy swirl, leaving the aroma of burned mint in the air. "Glad to see you joined the land of the living, pet." Spike drawled. He laughed at his own unintentional joke. "Well, at least one of us is. Living that is. So maybe I'm welcoming you to the land of the dead." She was made mute by terror all she was aware of was her heart's thundering beat and her quick breaths. A light flicked on and Willow's eyes were assaulted by it's brilliance. She put her hands over her eyes, partly trying to adjust and partly to block out the view of her blond captor. What you can't see. . . a cold metal weight settled on her right wrist and a lock snapped. . .will drain you dry and leave your body on your friend's doorstep. Spike had handcuffed her! Before she could struggle, he pulled her arm over to the headboard and snapped the other cuff into the metal frame. She was now attached to the bed. No means of escape now. Some snippet of their earlier conversation . . .or terrifying exchange of words as the case may be. . . came back to her. "I haven't had a woman in weeks." Woah! 'Having' is bad, bad thing. Any kind of 'having' a vampire would do at least. She frantically tried to remember the rest of the conversation or what happened next but she couldn't. "W-w-what am I doing here?" "Don't remember how are little tete-a-tete ended, do you?" Spike asked gleefully, resting his head on his elbow as he watched her like she was the morning's entertainment. Spike loved to watch humans squirm. It beat television, for the most part. Willow fervently hoped she wasn't about to be a t.v. breakfast. She chewed on her lower lip as she searched for words. "Um, no." Her eyes skittered away from him and she looked at her surroundings, they were different from earlier. She realized that they weren't in the burned out factory anymore. They seemed to be in a cheap hotel room. The walls were a dingy brown, the bedclothes had mystery stains on them, and a half-ripped sign on the back of the door proclaimed that they were at the "Beldick Motel". Willow thought she saw a rat scuttle under the bed. "Not surprised, I rapped you pretty hard on that brainy head of yours." He didn't sound sorry about it. She touched her free hand to the base of her skull and noted some tenderness, that's why there was dull ache. Her fingers carefully drifted to her neck and she noted two puncture marks but he hadn't drained her. There was some dried blood on her neck but not an excessive amount. She didn't even feel light headed. What else was she missing? "Oh!" Xander! "Where's Xander?" Her eyes darted around the room. "The boy?" "Uh-huh." Let him be alive, let him be alive, let him be alive. . . "I left him back in Sunnydale, pet." "And he was alive when you left, right?" Spike smirked. "Yep, sleepin' soundly." He tilted his head as he continued to watch her. "Think I even left the door ajar for him. Not that I care about that git. I was carrying you out and couldn't be bothered to shut it." He only left the boy alive because he hadn't been hungry. Killing wasn't that much fun if the victim wasn't conscious and able to scream anyway. Made the meal boring. What was the point if there wasn't any theater with the dinner? Willow sighed in relief. Then, stiffened. "Did you just say we're not in Sunnydale anymore?" "Yes." That's all he had to say on the subject. He picked up a half-empty bottle of mescal from the night stand and took a hearty swig. "I don't care if I ever see that bloody place again." "Oh. . .but. . .but. . .why am. . .I-" Not dead? Not suffering from too much blood loss? Er, in your bed? "Why am I here?" "That's a good question, luv." He took another drink from his bottle. He held it tightly, like a life line. Great! He didn't even have a plan. There was nothing more dangerous than a demon who acted on instinct. Especially a male demon. Wait a minute, no plan meant no imminent demise for her right? "Oh." "Oh? You're not going to get hysterical or plead for your life?" Spike looked put out. "Uh, no. Did you want me to?" Maybe he liked begging. She could do that if it meant she got to live longer. He thought about it a moment. "No, not really. I feel another effin' headache coming on. You screamin' wouldn't help it any." "Hangover?" Willow asked. Good, maybe he'll pass out or get sick and then I can skedaddle. Spike pressed his hand to his forehead. "Yeah, been having a lot of those lately since. . ." Willow nodded. "Since Drusilla left." She said softly, finishing his sentence for him. Spike's eyes grew angry. "Don't even say her name!" He vamped out and snarled at her. Willow shrieked and jumped off the bed, but couldn't move very far because of the handcuffs. She pulled at them furiously, causing them to clank against the bedframe. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you." She tried desperately to placate the vampire. He growled at her as his hands reached to drag her back onto the bed by her arm. He pressed her back into the mattress with his body as he gripped her chin with one of his hands. "Never say her name to me again! Understand?" Willow nodded as best she could with his fingers digging into her jaw. "You aren't worthy to even speak of my goddess, my ripe wicked plum. . ." His face crumpled just as soon as his speech had begun and his arms went around her. He sought comfort in the embrace of her soft warm body, crying forlornly. Willow's heart was pounding so hard, she thought it might leap from her chest. "Y-y-you're going to be alright." She said shakily as she placed her free hand on the back of his head. Sad Spike was easier to deal with than mad, homicidal Spike. His hair was smooth and softer than it looked. A vampire is crying on you and you're thinking about his hair?! Get a grip, Rosenberg. "No, I'm not." He moaned. "Never be alright again without her. I'm nothing without my black beauty." Spike put his face into the crook of her neck, tears soaking her skin and making the barely closed wound sting. She flinched but then she felt his tongue lave her bite marks. That wasn't as unpleasant as you might imagine. For some reason the sight of his mark on her was comforting. Someone in the world belonged to him. Even if it was a mortal who was friends with a Slayer. He licked his lips as he pulled back to gaze down at her. "Do you know what you are?" Willow gulped, her face blotched with hectic color. "L-L-Lunch?" Spike surprised her by laughing. Really laughing. With her, not at her. He pulled back and sat beside her, a couple of tears running down his face."You really don't know, do you? Even though you've been working with the Slayer and the Watcher." "No, I don't know what you're talking about." Maybe he was going crazy. Well, it was understandable, after being with a mad woman for so long maybe it had rubbed off on him. . .and he'd never been what you would call well-adjusted. Spike traced his mark with a fingertip. "Knew it when I bit you. I should have smelled it sooner, but I was drunk. Not thinkin' straight,you know. You're a vampire in the making, pet." "You want to make me a vampire?" Yipes! And here she was, tied and helpless. Why didn't the Watcher's have an emergency hotline number should could call? You know, the Vampire Intervention Team or something. Spike raised an eyebrow. "I didn't say that. I said, 'you are a vampire in the making'. You have the ability to be a master vampire." She scrunched up her nose. "Well, yes. And every other human that walks around Sunnydale at night. All it takes is a bite and then he sucks your blood and you suck his--" Spike rose one eyebrow and licked his lips as his eyes traversed her body. "Yes?" He waited but she was mute. "You were talking about sucking, I believe." "I don't remember." "A likely story." Spike took another drink. Maybe there was more to this quiet little country mouse than he had thought. After all, she had the genetics to be a master vamp. "You know, luv, vamps made that way can only be minions. Master vampires must have a special kind of blood." "Oh." "You don't look too excited." Spike chuckled again and reached for his bottle. "It isn't like winning the lottery or anything. Unless its like an evil lottery." Willow said cautiously, she was rewarded by another laugh. "Oh, but it is." Spike's eyes took on an expectant gleam, his tongue snaked out to outline his lower lip. "For both of us." "You're going to turn me?" Can this day get any worse? Woah! Better not ask that, even mentally. Ask and you usually received. Especially near the Hellmouth. "Not tonight." "Okay. Great. Not dying tonight. I can live with that." Willow frowned. "Not that I was trying to pun, Buffy usually does that and she's so-" "You're going to be my revenge." Spike said, speaking to himself, a crafty gleam in his eye. "On all of 'em. Drusilla, Slutty, and best of all. . .Angelus." Willow was confused. "I'm confused again. Revenge. . . ? How?" Spike took another swig. "I've never made myself a childe, not in all my one hundred and fifty some years. Dru wouldn't let me, said that she didn't want to share me with anyone." "Okay. So, you're going to turn me to. . .what? Make her jealous?" "That's right, little girl. You're going to be my masterpiece, the most vicious vampire ever turned. I'll turn you loose on all of them." "Aack!" Willow cried, unthinkingly. All she could see was her inevitable entry in the Watcher's Journals with a picture next to her vitals. She'd probably be in leather or something equally provocative. Somehow, that bothered her more than being bitten and drained and then. . .no, the bitey and dying part was definitely worse. "That bothers you?" Spike asked, still amused by her thought processes. At least she wouldn't be an eternal bore. "Well. . .yeah. Not big on the killing thing." "You will be." "But I won't make a good vampire." "And why's that?" "Because. . .because. . .not big with the killing." "Yes, you said that reason already." Spike said. "Uh. . .I'm afraid of the dark." Spike laughed. "You won't be with Big Bad looking out for you." "I don't look good in black." "Yes, you do." Spike reached out and touched the fluffy pink sweater. "You'd look better in it that this." "Hey, my mom bought me this!" Willow cried. Spike nodded, apparently having a silent conversation with himself. "We'll need to get you some new clothes, I can't be seen with you in these things." "But you were yesterday." "Yes, but I was intending to use you and eat you. You're family now. You'll be my childe and I can't be embarrassed by you." "Childe." Willow shuddered. "Wow, you'll be my dad." Spike flicked his cigarette ash on the floor. "No, I'll be your sire." "Sire. Oh, because I'll belong to your bloodline. The Order of Aurelius." Willow was speaking hypothetically. She had no intention of pledging the 'vampire fraternity.' She was simply curious about the process. "Exactly, pet." He looked proud. "So, you had this gene too?" "Yes, but I was turned in the bad old days." "What do you mean by that?" "I was made in an alley. I had no training until after I was a vampire. That was before vampires were forced to limit their numbers." "Why are they doing that?" "Not enough food." Food. . .people. "Oh, I see." "Don't look so tense, luv. They'll be plenty for us to eat." "Um...yeah." Willow agreed. She was surprised to hear her stomach growl. Spike heard it too. "You need some food." "I am hungry." Now, that her death wasn't imminent. Spike looked at the phone doubtfully. "I doubt they have room service." "Oh, well, I could just run down to the corner store. It'll be no problem, I'll even-" "I don't think so." Spike said, giving her a quelling look. "You're staying in my site at all times. Can't have you going off and blabbing this to Slutty." "Buffy." Willow corrected automatically. "You say Slayer, I say Layer." Spike retorted. "I suppose we could order a pizza and you could have a slice of mushroom while I have a slice of pizza man." "NO!" He smirked at her. "I mean. . .I'm not hungry. Nope, feeling fine." "We'll have to break you of this morality habit you have, pet." Spike said. "But, I'll be gentle. . .for now." He fished the key to her cuff out of his jeans pocket. "We'll go to the vending machine down the hall because its still shady at this time of day. Just so happens that I want a Baby Ruth." "Okay." Willow brightened. She looked at her hands. "Uh, thanks." "Don't thank me, pet. This isn't going to be easy." He could almost hear the wheels in her mind churning. "Don't even think of trying to get away. I will hunt you down to the ends of the Earth." "Why?" Willow asked, shocked by his demeanor. "Because, pet, you're my V.I.T." "You're Victim Ingesting Treat?" "You don't know how rare you are, do you?" Spike laughed again. "Your one in a million, especially considering your history with Dru and Angel. They'll both be jealous . . .and Buffy will be terrified of my Vampire In Training." V.I.T. Ch. 2 What kind of snack food was appropriate when a vampire kidnaps you? Reese Cups? Skittles? Mike and Ike's? Junior Mints? Definitely chocolate. Willow had a feeling that this was a dark chocolate kind of day. That was the trouble with being a denizen of Sunnydale, there were never any etiquette books to cover the situation. "What'll it be, pet?" Spike asked, watching her chew on her lower lip as she pondered her selection. He admired her concentration. He had no doubt that the gears were just whirring in that brainy head of hers. He'd give a few decades off his unlife to know what she was thinking about. She was that fascinating. Better yet, her thoughts would make sense, unlike Drusilla. Willow was thinking about escape. Freedom lay a few yards away in the form of a gray steel door down the hall. It was so close. "H-how much money do you have?" Willow asked, timidly. All the while, she surreptitiously eyed the door. "We have our work cut out for us, don't we?" Spike rolled his eyes before he smashed his fist through the glass enclosed vending machine. "I hardly ever pay for anything, pet." "Oh." Willow's eyes were wide as she gulped. "But, Spike, I'm not THAT hungry." Spike snickered. "You have to learn to let loose a bit. Live in the moment." He pulled his hand loose, twisting it to the left so that he didn't scratch it on the jagged edges of glass. He just had a few superficial cuts but didn't want to bleed all over their breakfast by opening them more. "Besides, we'll take some for the road too." "Right. On the road again." Willow said, humoring him. Meanwhile, she looked left and right but no 'candy police' came. Unfortunately. This wouldn't be a problem if they were near a donut shop. Spike seemed to be taking his time. "Shouldn't we hurry?" "Why?" Spike was loading up the pockets of his duster with assorted bags of chips and candy bars. "Uh, because someone will find out. Then, they'll call the police and they would-" "I'd eat anyone who tried to stop us, pet." Spike said, opening a Baby Ruth bar with gusto. "Or break their necks. Depends on my mood." He bit down on the candy, sighing with satisfaction. "Oh. . .well, that's just. . .gross. . .er, great." Willow daintily selected an Almond Joy. She snagged a pack of gum and a couple of packages of Fig Newtons. Spike frowned. "Take more than that, luv. We're going to be traveling and I can't stop all the time to feed you." He made her sound like a demanding pet or a fragile house plant. "Fine, but if anyone asks, you made me do it." She grabbed a couple of packages of chips and a few candy bars. It wasn't exactly healthy but it was food. Her eyes strayed to the door once more. "I'll gladly take the blame." His eyes lit on the soda machine "You need something to wash it down." "Oh no, I can just drink some tap water, don't worry about-" But Spike ripped the door of the unit of its hinges. Inside, were several kinds of pop in cylindrical shoots. "Take your pick." Good God, he's strong. It suddenly made escaping less appealing. And much more appealing. "Er, thanks." She dutifully chose some root beer and a couple of colas. "You're welcome, pet." Spike was perusing the shoots, making up his mind. She knew she'd never get a better opportunity. She was most likely close to home. He was distracted and weighed down by junk food. "Oh, look, Spike, they have Tolberones. This must be a high end vending machine." Spike peered into the machine. Willow bolted, screaming. She left a Hansel and Gretel trail of snack foods behind her. "Help! Help! There's a vampire after me, help!" She knew it sounded ridiculous as soon as it left her mouth. . .but she was too scared to think of a good lie. "Oh, very good." Spike chortled. "Now, tell 'em the Easter Bunny has you cornered." He was just a foot behind her, his long legs eating up the carpeted hallway. Willow threw her Fig Newtons at him but she missed. A door at the end of the hall was flung open my an middle-aged man in boxers with lip stick stains on his forehead and cheeks. "What the hell is going on here?" "Never mind her, mate. She just likes a bit of playacting as a prelude to a good shagging." Spike said, flashing the man a 'cat that made love to the canary' grin. Willow threw her hands against the door and was about to throw it open when Spike's arms surrounded hers and his hands encircled her wrists. "No! Let me go!" She cried, trying to throw her body weight against the door to open it. But the hinges were rusty and her weight was too slight. Spike gathered her up against his chest, his arms covering hers like a living straight jacket. He whirled them both around. "We'll be on our way then, won't we luv?" He tightened his hold on her slightly, warning her to not make a sound. The man in the doorway looked at them doubtfully. It was obvious that the young woman was upset. He thought he saw encrusted blood on her neck, it was hard to be sure in the dim light. "Why don't you let her go? She doesn't look like she wants to go with you." "I think you need to mind your own business." Spike said, his voice was infused with a warning. He flashed his demon face and the man's eyes bulged. "We don't want any trouble here, do we?" Without another word, the aging human backed into his room. Spike marched Willow back to their room, his arms still wrapped tightly around her. Once inside, he roughly shoved her towards the bed. She caught herself before she tripped and gingerly set down on the edge. Her heart was racing and her breath was coming fast, as if she'd just run a marathon. She was afraid she'd pass out. He started to pace and Willow became even more frightened. She thought it best to be quiet and try to blend in to the bedspread. Finally, Spike threw open the door to their room. He fixed her with an utterly lethal glare. "I'm going down the hall. If you're as smart as I think you are, you will stay put. If I have to come get you, I'll take a strip off you. Got it?" She couldn't even look at him. " Staying put." *********** Willow moved back against the headboard and pulled her knees to her chest. She could hear the sound of flesh slamming against metal outside. Then, she heard the sound of coins spilling on the floor. All the while, a string of very British obscenities was coming from Spike's lips. 'Bloody' and 'sodding' were favorite choices. On a positive note, at least he wasn't taking out his very obvious anger on her. Though, this could be the warm up to a witch-hunt. All to quickly, the ominous sound of footsteps approaching her door was heard. Willow took a few calming breaths as the door opened and Spike appeared. In his arms were four ice buckets the hotel provided. Two of them were overflowing with shiny silver coins. The other two held snack foods and sodas. "W-wow. That's a lot of candy. D-do you feel better now?" And less homicidal? "Much." Spike said. Beating the machines to a non-bloody pulp seemed to be just what the demon doctor ordered. He set down his ill-gotten gains on the nearby dresser. "A-and are you less mad?" "No." Spike considered this a moment and shook his head. "Hell, I even kind of admire you for your daring. Not many people could have pulled that off. Distracting me with the candy and what all. Its even more amazing that you're still alive. Pissing off a vampire is never a smart move, luv." "Yeah, that's a bad habit." She ducked her head. "Musta picked that up from Buffy." She said hurriedly, anxious to agree with him. Spike wasn't completely mollified. "You and I are going to eat something while I lay down some ground rules, pet." "Okay." Willow cheerfully agreed, still in the happy space for being alive. So far so good. Spike tossed her some Fig Newtons and a cola. She opened the package and nibbled on one. Spike sat down in the chair beside the bed. He opened a can of grape soda and sipped it, pausing for a moment. "Well, it's not wine but it'll do." Willow took a sip of her pop. She was grateful for the sugar rush that hit her. She needed to keep her energy up so she could prepare and carry out an escape plan. "What kind of rules?" Spike lit up a cigarette and contemplated his captive. She was busily munching on the fig cookies and trying to appear calm. She was failing miserably but somehow it made her made her more endearing. She was a unique mixture of daring and frailty. "First rule, pet. Don't try to escape." Willow grimaced and Spike's expression hardened. "I will only hunt you down and kill those who've helped you. Understand? You belong to me now. No one will separate us, even the almighty Slayer." Willow gulped and nodded in understanding. Spike was every bit the predator. Fierce. Territorial. Possessive. His face was so handsome; his manner was largely affable. It made her forget that he was a killer at times. "What? No protest? No tears?" Willow tilted her chin up a notch. "No." For now, she added silently. She popped another Newton in her mouth and chewed furiously. Spike blew a ring of smoke as he studied her. She'd obviously agreed to disagree in her own mind. The blond vampire tried not to let his smile show on his face. She had grit even if she wasn't willing to throw it in his face yet. To be fair, he was frightening. She probably only attempted to escape because she thought she wouldn't have to face his ire. He rested his boot on the edge of the coverlet. "And another thing, you will obey me." He let a small half-smile escape. "In the important things. A yes-woman isn't nearly as attractive." Obey? At least he didn't ask her to love and honor him too. Willow bit the inside of her lip. "Fine." "Alright, then. As long as you follow the rules, we should get on famously, pet." Willow took another drink, finishing off her coke and ate the last corner of her cookie. "Great." She'd supposed she'd just made a vampire friend of sorts. Buffy would be appalled. "That's a nasty bite mark, innit?" Spike said saucily, quite enjoying the movement of her slender white throat, decorated with a red mark, as she swallowed. "It's fine." The young witch lied. "I can hardly feel it." "Mmm? Really? Guess I'll have to bite down harder next time." "No!" Willow slapped a hand to her neck. "Yes, I think so." Gyuah! "I think not. I mean, y-you're the only vampire who's ever bit me, so you kinda already made an impression. Ha Ha. Get it? Impression?" Willow babbled as she pointed to the indentations in her neck. "Calm down. I was trying to get a rise out of you." Spike stood up. "Still, I think we need to clean that up." He guided Willow by the elbow into the dismal bathroom of their hotel room and sat her down on the counter top. He contemplated the yellowed bath-towels and washcloths with distaste but resolutely picked one up. He turned on the faucet and dampened it. Then he situated himself between Willow's legs. She squirmed away from him. "I can do it." "I know, luv, but what kind of sire would I be if I didn't take care of you?" "The best kind?" Spike smiled at her indulgently before he began to undirt and unblood her. Unfortunately, it wasn't doing very much for her overall appearance. She had soot on her clothes, her tights were ripped. They were several small cuts and abrasions too. She really needed a proper bath. "Change of plans, pet. Get in the tub." Willow looked at the yellowed tub with disdain. "No thanks." "That wasn't a request." She pointed at it. "But its so...ewww." "You can't get caught up in this cleanliness thing, pet. After all, you're going to be unlivin' in a crypt, right?" "A crypt? Like with dead people and spider webs?" "Of course." "Yuck." Spike chuckled as he bent down and took off her shoes. "We have to get these off of you." "I can take off my own shoes, Spike. My mom taught me how. I have lots of practice." But Spike continued to take them off. He set them neatly on the floor and ran his hands up her legs, intending to slip them under her skirt and strip off her tights. "Aack!" Willow cried, stopping his ascent into badness with her own hands. He scorched a path of fire with his eyes as he slid them up her body until they fastened themselves on hers. They were half-lidded and unfocused, full of sensual suggestion. "I'm only trying to help you out of your clothes, pet." Willow shivered. She somehow managed to shake her head in the negative. "N-no." She gasped in a breath of air. "No having, remember?" Spike rimmed his lips with his tongue. "I do." His fingers traced a small circle on the inside of her knee. "But I remember the little chat we had after that too." "I don't!" Willow said, trying in vain to ignore his actions. "You told me you'd give me anything." Spike's hand slid further between her thighs. "Any thing." "I-I did?" "Uh huh." Spike confirmed. "If only I wouldn't snack on that git you're so fond of." "Xander?" "Possibly. Dark haired and dopy?" Willow frowned but nodded. "Yeah, that's the one. I was bored, waiting for you to wade through all those spell supplies." "I remember that." Willow said, lost in thought. "But then I told you we'd need my spell book from Buffy's." "Yeah. And I didn't fancy walking over to be dusted so I decided to have myself a snack while I thought of a plan." "I remember now." Willow's lower lip trembled. All the baser thoughts she'd unwillingly entertained about Spike fled. "You had him by the throat, y-you were going to hurt him." "And you launched yourself at me." Spike said, with apparent fondness. "A little red ball of fury. You were going to rip me a new one with your bare hands." The vampire chuckled. "What a sight you were, Red." His eyes rested on hers once more. Spike could see that her sexual awareness of him had fled. In its place was fear mixed with anger. He removed his hands from her legs, settling for sweeping a wing of crimson hair from her face. "But you let go of him and asked me what he was worth to me." Willow continued. "Then you said he was everything. The only thing that mattered." Spike caressed her cheek with her thumb. "You offered yourself to me after that. Asked me to take you instead of him." "And you did." Willow remembered. "You fed off of me and then knocked me out." She had a troubled expression. "But why didn't you just. . .you know. Kill me?" Spike shrugged, apparently uncomfortable. "I don't know. Maybe I was bored? Or maybe I was saving you for the road?" Or other things. "Point is, I didn't." "No, you didn't. Why don't you want me to do that spell on Dru. . .her." Spike spoke with cold fury. "Because I want to pay her back for the misery she caused me. I want her to know what it feels like to be replaced. To be forgotten." So, that's what she was. An instrument of revenge. Nothing more. She blew out a breath. Of course that's all you are to him. It's Spike for God's sake. William the Bloody! Your enemy! She tried to appear indifferent. "I see." "Right." Spike said, coming back to himself. "What say we get you all cleaned up, huh?" "I can do it myself." Willow said defensively, using her infamous and effective 'resolve face'. "Alright, have it your way." Spike looked around the room and nodded. "Can't get out of here anyway. No windows." He pulled a smoke out of his pocket. "Make it quick, luv. I don't want you to have too much time alone in here to plot or what have you. You brainy types are always thinking up something." "Fine." Willow said tightly. Spike opened the bathroom door, shooting her look for her tart tone. "You've got twenty minutes. If I don't see your squeaky clean face after that, I'm coming in here." He closed the door behind him. ********* Willow scrubbed her body furiously as she stood in the shower spray. She'd found two small bottles of shampoo, an unopened package of soap, and a bottle of cream rinse on the counter top. She had applied a liberal amount of the shampoo to the bottom of the tub and flipped on the hot water to hopefully disinfect whatever yuckies dwelled below. She'd then hopped in and erased the traces of Spike's 'attention'. The grime and blood came off with ease. The emotional bruises were not as easily put to rights. She was grateful for the alone time and the chance to do something normal. The mundane ritual of cleansing oneself seemed to be very relaxing. With any luck, she'd think of a way out of this mess soon. Just as she bent down to scrub her legs, the door opened. Willow let out a small shriek. "W-what are you doing in here!?" "Relax, pet. I just brought you some clothes. That pink fuzzy number of yours isn't going to cut it." "Oh." Willow bent down further in the tub, thankful the glass was frosted. Spike was disappointed by that very same fact. "Well, then. I'll leave you to continue. Five minutes, luv." Willow hurriedly continued her ablutions and stepped out the shower cautiously. She snatched two towel from the towel bar and pressed herself against the door. It would give her some warning if Spike should try to get in again. She wrapped her hair in one towel and dried her body off with the other one. She fished her undergarments from the small pile of her discarded clothes. Then, she saw the small stack of clothing resting on the counter and noted that it was all black. She recognized them as belonging to Spike. Willow fastened her bra and then pulled the t-shirt over her head. It fit nicely. She unfolded the jeans and a small scrap of red flew to the floor. She picked it up and found that it was a small pair of lacy panties. Did Spike wear. . .? Willow carefully wrapped her towel around her body and opened the door a crack. She held the panties out like a red flag. "What's with this?!" Spike had been laying on the bed, arms under his head as he smoked. He turned at the sound of her voice. "Oh, that! Panties, luv." He cocked an eyebrow. "You DO wear them, right?" "Of course." Willow said, cheeks turning panty colored. "But what are you doing with them?" "Dru's." He said with a shrug. "Bought 'em for her but she didn't like them." He straightened up and stubbed out his cigarette. "You ever been to Victoria Secrets, pet? The clothes they have are just. . .brilliant." Willow frowned. "Why didn't she like them?" "Said something about 'good girls in silken curls with wings as white as snow'. Not sure if I understand it." "Oh." "So those are clean and unused. Go ahead and put them on." Willow disappeared back into the bathroom, not liking Spike giving her underwear. Let alone discards from Drusilla. But, she didn't really want to wear her soiled underwear either. She reappeared minutes later dressed in his black clothes. The jeans were tight in the hips but everything fit more or less. She held her pink and purple items to her chest like a shield. "Let's toss those, luv. They won't be seeing another day." "But-" "No, you aren't taking those with you. New rule, luv. I officially have a say over your wardrobe." Willow acquiesced. It was best to pick and choose her battles. She tossed her clothes in the wastebasket. Spike smiled smugly before he went to the draperies. The sun was just setting. "Looks like its time for us to be hitting the road, pet." He turned around, offering her a wolfish smile. " Tonight your vampire training begins." "Fabulous." Willow muttered. Her eyes darted around the room. Where's a stake when you need one?