1855

Willow knelt in the bushes and watched the ebony door as she had for the past few nights.  She was getting pretty good at this lurking thing now.  So good, that she couldn't even remember how many times a vampire had stepped within several feet of her without being aware of her presence.  <Stealth girl...that's me!> she would smirk to herself as she watched the hungry vampires pass her unaware.  Occasionally, she would stake one, just to keep in practice, but she was still quite afraid of messing up the timeline, so it was a rare occurrence.  The most important thing to avoiding vampires, she had learned, seemed to be to keep downwind.  Another important factor was to avoid perfume, heavy soaps, or anything else that left a lingering 'unnatural' scent.  She'd also discovered that they had more trouble detecting her on rainy nights or cold ones...anything that mixed up her unique aroma.  On the other hand, Willow had found out the hard way that it was virtually impossible for vampires not to be aware of her presence on very hot and humid nights.  Even if she had 'Secret,' the deodorant strong enough for the Slayer, the redhead was sure that the demons would still be able to detect the scent of her sweat.  Luckily, Willow's ability to defend herself was just one of the things that had matured over the years.

Wrinkling her nose in distaste at her own odorous thoughts, Willow focused once more on the door.  By her best estimate, it was only a half-hour at most until sunrise.  She was thankful that she wouldn't have to wait much longer to stretch the muscles that ached from crouching for so long.  Within seconds of that thought, she saw the object of her cloak-and-dagger behavior strolling up the street.

He was alone, again, as he had been for the past few nights so Willow decided it was time to reveal herself.  When he paused at the door to his lair to unlock it, Willow slipped out of the shrubbery and across the dark street.  Making herself comfortable, she leaned against a small tree.

"So, what's a bad vamp like you doing in a nice place like this?"  Her delicate voice broke the early morning stillness.  Willow was very proud of herself when she saw that she had caught Spike completely by surprise.

Spike spun around, already in attack mode.  His 'game' face slipped instantly into place, and his body tensed, ready to spring into immediate action.

Willow simply smiled and waved, not in the least frightened by his demonic reaction.

Upon seeing the identity of the intruder, Spike suddenly stood up straight, looking more than a little puzzled.  "Willow?  What the bloody hell are you doing here?" he lisped slightly through his fangs.

Willow stuck out her lip in a mock pout.  "Aren't you happy to see me?" she teased further.  "After all, you're the one who said the coast was clear...all the nasty vampires are out of the country for a few years.  'Alle alle in-come-free!'" she shouted through cupped hands, then smiled brightly.  It was good to seem him again, even if his less-appealing visage was all she had yet to see.

Spike shook his head in irritation.   "That was years ago, Willow.  Over 10 years ago I told you it was safe to come back!  Where the bloody hell have you been?"

Willow stood her ground.  "Hey, it's not like you didn't know I was safe!  Heck, I have a box full of your letters, so you knew where I was...most of the time.  Besides, I told you I was busy...things to do...places to go...people to see.  I also told you that I'd come back when I was finished."  Knowing that she'd come across more defensive than she'd intended to, Willow paused and took a breath.  The calming effect was almost instantaneous.  Now that the smile was back on her face, she took a casual step closer, but only one since he didn't seem overly delighted to see her.

"Well, I'm all done, so here I am!" she chirped, regaining her previous enthusiasm.

When the shock of suddenly seeing his make-believe wife after 45 years wore off, the vampire took a moment to take in her appearance.  She looked good--very odd and out of place because of what she was wearing--but still good.  Not that he would admit it.

"What the hell are you wearing, Red?  Isn't it a little early for Halloween?"

Willow took a few strides closer until she was illuminated fully by the gaslight and then stopped and did a twirl.

"You like?" she asked, grinning like a Cheshire cat as she indicated the men's clothing.  "The best part is, not only are these comfortable, but they're also great for lurking, stalking vampires, and general mischief making."

Spike still hadn't moved; however, much to Willow's relief he did force his demon back into hiding, and along with it the ridges, fangs, and yellow eyes.  Right then, his blue eyes were noting her tall riding boots, tight black breeches and dark shirt.  She even had most of her red hair hidden under some sort of cap.  She looked comical and stunning all at the same time.  Spike could barely remember when he last saw a woman in form-fitting pants, and he suddenly had a strong desire for someone to hurry up and invent Lycra.  Realizing he was staring, he latched back on to his previous anger.

"You look absolutely, bloody ridiculous, Willow," he snapped at her.

Her smile waned a bit.  She had hoped that he would at least pretend to be happy to see her.  Much to Willow's dismay though, he appeared annoyed more than anything.  <He's mad.  In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd say he's pouting because I didn't come back the second he told me it was safe!  Vampires and their egos!  Geesh!> she thought as she watched the bitter vampire glare at her.

"Well, um, it beats a corset any day of the week.  Besides, I don't wear it very often, only when I don't want to be seen at night.  Do you have any idea how difficult it is to sit in a steel and wire hoop skirt and half a dozen petticoats?  And you can forget about being stealthy because you practically squeak when you walk...kind of like the tin man but without the cute little funnel hat," she joked with an easy smile.  Apparently, Spike didn't see the humor because his stony exterior didn't soften in the slightest.

Her smile fading fast, Willow kicked at the ground for a moment.  At this point she'd have preferred his sarcastic gibes to the deathly silence, but even those weren't forthcoming from the unusually stoic vampire.  Eventually, Willow decided she'd had enough.  She'd been ignored enough for one night, if not more.

"Well, obviously I'm bothering you, so I'll leave you alone, Spike.  I just wanted you to know that I'm in town, safe and sound." She paused just long enough before continuing to allow Spike to interrupt if he wanted to, which apparently he didn't.  "I have a place down in Grosvenor's Square.  The vampire population seems pretty sparse in that part of the city."

Spike shoved his hands into his overcoat pockets.  "That's as good a place to be as any, I suppose.  That area is too rich for most vamp's blood," he said with disinterest.

Willow took a few hesitant steps backwards, her eyes now leaving the vampire to gaze down the street longingly.  She wanted out of there and away from the aloof vampire, as the silence was almost painful.  She looked back at Spike one last time to find that he was now staring at his pocket watch like he had somewhere else he would rather be.  <I can take a hint, Spike.>

"Well, I'll leave you to get some sleep or whatever.  I'm sure we'll manage to find each other in a few years after Dru is turned, then we can both go home and face real life again."

When Willow made her move to go, Spike turned back toward his door and finished opening it with a harsh shove.  "See you then," he grunted to the door and stepped inside.

Walking away, Willow could only shake her in head at his behavior.  She'd only taken a few steps when she had a rather cheeky idea.

Just as he was about to close the door, Willow called over her shoulder in her most innocent-as-a-lamb voice, "In the meantime, if you're ever in my neighborhood, you should stop in for a bite."

Spike did a double take and reopened the door.  He had to see the expression on her face.  Did she realize what she'd said?  If not, then she'd be blushing and would quickly start backpedaling and babbling, and he'd hate to miss that.  And, if she'd said it on purpose, well....

But she was gone.  He darted out to the landing and glanced up and down the street, but Willow had already disappeared.  Not allowing himself to feel or show a speck of disappointment, Spike took out one of his hand-rolled cigarettes from the inside pocket of his overcoat.  <She'll be back, mate.  She'll be back,> the vampire told himself as he walked back into his current lair and shut the door behind him.

Willow dashed quickly back to the place where she'd stashed a fairly loose-fitting dress and some other basic essentials.  Hidden in a thicket formed by one of Spike's neighbor's flowering bushes, she pulled the gown on over her 'stealth-wear', as she liked to call it, slid the trousers off, and changed her shoes.  Even with the light fog and the cover offered by the shrubbery, Willow wasn't about to take the time to dress properly.  The point was to not draw attention to herself, not to win a fashion show.  Pulling a coat on to cover the rest of her fashion faux pas, Willow headed for home.

After sometime, the redhead managed to hail a carriage. On the long ride to her new place, Willow admitted to herself that she was more than a little disappointed in how the meeting with the vampire had gone.  She knew Spike wasn't pleased when she hadn't run back to London the second he let her know it was safe.  Oh, how she'd wanted to, though.  It kept her awake many a night, wondering if she was doing the right thing.  But like she'd told him, she had things that had to be done first.  It wasn't until all her work was complete that she finally allowed herself to return to her adopted home.

It was obvious, though, that Spike didn't understand that.  And why would he?  She'd never told him what she was doing all those years, and he'd never pressed her for details.  Still, it was obvious that his pride was wounded, again.  He'd probably figured that she'd be dying for his company...maybe even take things up where they'd left it off.

Willow smiled, remembering their last days together.  When they'd parted, it was pretty obvious that they both wanted more from each other than a philosophical discussion on the virtues of chocolate, but that was a very long time ago.  Clearly since then, Spike had overcome his temporary fascination with her, just as she had for him.  It was to be expected.  After all, their original desire had sprung from the simple fact that all they had was each other.  Luckily for the both of them, things were different now.  He had gotten on with his life, she did her best to create one for herself, and, most importantly, Willow had finally learned to keep her under-used hormones in check.  <Yep, a lot can change in half a century.>

She did miss him though.  The letters that they'd exchanged, while always wonderful, weren't enough.  It was funny.  Even though the amount of time they'd actually spent together during their journey back in time had been relatively small, the blonde vampire had somehow become the most important person in her life.  <*Friends* usually are,> she reminded herself promptly.

Willow let her head fall back against the cushion of the handsome carriage as the first rays of the early morning sun touched her face.  <God he looked beautiful...better than I remember!>  Willow sighed deeply with the knowledge that she'd never be able to reenact some of the steamier dreams she'd been having lately, but that was okay.  She'd accepted that many years before.  More importantly, she was home now, and eventually Spike would quit being so stubborn and drop by.  They'd play cards, talk, tease each other, and it would have to be enough for both of them.

"Can you take the long way home?" she asked the driver.  "It's such a beautiful morning, and I'm in no hurry.  Just take your time."

******

It was several weeks after her surprise visit to Spike, and Willow was bored.  Both the days and nights seemed to be passing much more slowly lately.  Maybe it was because she was alone, even though she should have been used to that by now, or maybe it was because she was clock watching--calendar watching, to be more accurate.  Five years to go.  Five years until Drusilla's family would move to London, Angelus and William would return from Europe, and all of Spike's dreams would finally be fulfilled.  It was during seemingly endless nights like these that Willow just knew that the next five years would pass more slowly than the previous one hundred had.  She puttered around her house for a while, as she did every evening, cleaning and rearranging things.  Being the fairly neat person that she was, that never kept her occupied for very long though.  Add to that the fact that she had a lady come in a few days a week to help--as was expected of a lady in that day and age-- it meant that Willow had a lot of extra time on her hands.  Normally, after her nightly 'nesting' activities, Willow would throw herself into her new favorite pursuits.  Well, relatively speaking they were new, but she'd taken them up several decades earlier.  After all, Spike had told her to get a hobby, and now she had several.

Willow had started keeping a journal within days of leaving England the last time.  She found it incredibly liberating to finally be able to express all of her feelings and describe all of her experiences, even though only on paper.  She had already gone through several journals.  The first, unfortunately, was barely legible since it took her some time to get used to using a quill and inkpot. Still, each page overflowed with emotions and thoughts, fears and hopes, and even vague sketches of some of her more haunting dreams.  It was more than just a diary to her, and the diary she'd kept at home so long ago during her 'real' teenage years seemed almost inconsequential.  If those youthful ramblings had seemed comforting to her then, then her writings now were her salvation.

Tonight, after adding a few pages to her latest leather-bound volume, she put it back in the top drawer of the writing desk that sat in the corner of her bedroom.  Skipping back down the steps, Willow headed into the parlor to lose herself in her other favorite pastime--the guitar.  It was, in fact, her passion now.  Her writings may have saved her, but her music gave her life meaning again.  A day did not pass by when she didn't hold the guitar close to her for a couple of hours, her fingers caressing its rich wood as if it were her lover.  Under her ministrations, the fine instrument was no longer inanimate, sometimes seemingly whispering and sighing in response to her touch, while other times roaring passionately as she drew from the dead wood the sounds of life itself--sorrow, joy, regret, love, hatred, fear...  By creating such ardor from a simple handmade guitar, Willow found an outlet for the rest of her pent-up emotions.  The feelings that she couldn't even convey with ink on paper seemed to find their release through her alternating rhythms and slowly cresting melodies.  Whenever she would finish, Willow would be spent--physically, mentally, and emotionally.

As usual, tonight the time passed quickly as she played, but soon she even grew frustrated with her music.  Willow had been inside too long and needed to get out, no matter what time of night it was.

"That's it!" she exclaimed as she reached for the cross that she kept on a table by the door.  "I'm going for a walk.  I'll keep in the light, amongst the crowds, just like I always do, and I'll be fine. Besides, it's not even nine o'clock yet.  Still early enough for a quick stroll around the block," she convinced herself as she once again put the familiar heavy cross around her neck.  She couldn't be bothered putting on her stealthy clothes tonight.  She found it tortuous enough trying to put a corset on every day by herself when most women had someone else to help them, but taking it off was just as bad.  She didn't want to wait another hour before getting out of her prison home.

"Besides, if I don't get out of here and get some fresh air, I'll end up crazier than Drusilla!"  At the last minute, she grabbed a shawl and headed out into the night.  Standing on her stoop, she quickly surveyed the street.  The London fog was fairly thick, but she'd seen worse.  She was able to see where she was going and the gaslights along the street, and she could even make out other people as they passed by her house.  Looking up, she was a little sad that the fog made it utterly impossible to see the moon, let alone the stars.  Nevertheless, Willow knew that sooner or later there would be a clear night, and she promised herself she would take full advantage of it when it came.  But for now, Willow wrapped her shawl tightly about herself and set off into the damp air, hoping to clear her mind and sooth her anxious nerves.

She hadn't walked more than two houses up the street before she felt the grip of a cold hand on her shoulder.  In an almost knee-jerk reaction that she thought would make her Sensei proud, Willow grabbed the offending hand and arm with both of hers, leaned forward, and used her body as leverage to flip her assailant over her shoulder.  With a loud thud, the vampire landed on the ground before her.

"Evening, Willow," the slightly shocked blonde vampire said from the ground.  "Or should I be calling you Jackie Chan now?"

"Oops...sorry," Willow said sheepishly, offering a hand to help him up, which Spike ignored.  "I don't know what came over me.  You startled me, and I grabbed your hand and next thing I knew, there you were...on the ground...at my feet," she said, trying not to laugh.  When Willow noticed the puzzled looks from a young couple that had stopped to see what was happening, she tried to offer a flustered explanation since proper Victorian women didn't usually go around the streets of London flipping men over their shoulders.

"It--it was like one of those stories that you hear about--people finding incredible strength when their, um, cat is trapped under a car, or something."  Then seeing their puzzled looks turn to sheer confusion, she babbled on.  "*Carriage* cars, that is.  Yep, that's the kind of car I meant, because there aren't any others yet, are there?  Yep, they just grab onto that train and lift it right up to save their babies.  Read all about it in the London Times just the other week...think it happened somewhere in Brighton..."  Willow breathed a sigh of relief when the young man, obviously trying to impress his companion, began nodding his head and commenting that he remembered reading about her fictitious story.

While she was prattling on, Spike had momentarily forgotten he was lying on the cold ground.  He was so entranced watching Willow squirm as she tried to come up with an explanation for her behavior, that he was content to lie there.  An embarrassed Willow, all red-faced and disconcerted, was one of his favorite things.  Only now did he realize just how much he'd missed it.  Nevertheless, Spike snapped out of it when the idiotic couple bought her story.  The agile vampire quickly curled his knees to his chest and then arched his back, springing to his feet.  Much to her suitor's chagrin, an awed whisper came from the young female stranger at Spike's fantastic feat.

Spike quickly explained, "Oh, I, ah, used to be with the circus but had to quit.  They were working me to death."  Before the onlookers could ask any questions, Spike took Willow by the elbow and led her away.

"I thought I told you to stay in at night, Red!  Although I must be brain dead to think that you would actually start listening to me now," he continued grimly.

"Don't take it personally, Spike.  I never really listen to anybody anymore.  Besides, I was very bored, and I was going to be careful."  Willow stopped walking and latched onto her necklace, shoving it in his general direction.  "See!  I have a cross!"  Then she started rooting around in the pockets of her skirt haphazardly, "and I know there's a stake around here somewhere...Anyway, once again, I think I proved I can take care of myself."

Spike shook his head as he renewed his grip on her arm, even tightening it some, and set her back in motion again.  "You were just lucky, Pet.  If I'd been trying to kill you and not just get your attention, you'd be one dead Rose.  Now, let's go inside.  If you're that bloody bored, I guess I could beat you at poker a few times."

Willow jutted out her chin.  <Don't do me any favors, Spike.>  "You know, I managed fine without you, again, for a long time, Spike.  And since you were the one that ended up flat on his bum, it's pretty obvious that I don't need a baby sitter," she reminded him as they walked up the stairs to her home.  <At least he didn't ask me how I learned to flip people over my shoulder!  Good thing I didn't kick him, too!>

Spike shrugged and finally let a small smile pull at the corners of his mouth.  "Then consider it a date, Pet, if that makes you feel all grown up."

When she finally noted that hint of a smile that she'd wanted to see so badly weeks before, instead of making her happy, it irked her.  She was determined not to let him run the show this time.  Willow opened the door and entered her house, then turned to stare at him.

Spike stood outside with his hands in his pockets, looking at Willow expectantly.  "Um, love," he said, with a smidgen of exasperation, "I know it's been a long time, but aren't you forgetting something?  You have to invite me in, remember?"

"Not until I hear the magic words, Spike," she said coolly.

Spike rolled his eyes and groaned.  "May I come in and disgrace you at poker, *please*, Willow?"

Willow smirked and shook her head.  "Very nice, Spike.  But that isn't what I want to hear."

He clenched his jaw viciously.  <He, a vampire, had said 'please' after all. What the hell else could she want?  Oh, sod it all to hell...!>  His own thoughts angered him and the hint of a grin was quickly replaced by the now-more-familiar scowl.

"I'm not in the mood for games, Willow," he informed her while taking a step back.

She couldn't help sighing slightly.  "Me either, Spike.  Good night," she said and softly shut the door.  Willow didn't even look through its stained-glass panels to see if he was still there.  She just turned and headed up the staircase to her room.  Not that Spike would have noticed because he had already walked away without a backward glance.

There were both very proud of themselves.

Spike was still shaking his head as he walked down the street.  He didn't know exactly what had happened, but there was one thing he was quite sure of, and it brought more than a hint of a smile to his face.

"After all this time, she still wants me," he chuckled to himself while he felt around in his pockets for a cigarette and matches.  "Poor thing is setting herself up for a bloody big disappointment."

"I can't believe he still wants me...like that," Willow later said to herself while preparing for bed.  Then she laughed when she realized how frustrated he must have been when she didn't succumb to his charms.  "Yep, it's a good thing one of us has come to our senses while we were apart!"

*****

It was a beautiful, clear, spring night, several weeks later, and Willow was in her small backyard.  On rare nights such as this, it was her favorite place to be, especially when for the past two weeks the weather hadn't allowed her to be outside much.  If it wasn't the fog, then it was the rain, but not tonight...tonight was perfect.  She looked about her tiny section and smiled.  While it was much smaller than her backyard in Sunnydale, it was the perfect size for her now.  It gave her enough room for a small wrought-iron table, a couple of chairs, and even a swing.  In the sunniest corner there was a flowerbed.  She had big plans for that little spot, too.  Since it looked like she was finally going to be in one place for a little while and she'd decided to take Spike's advice and stay off the streets at night, this was the one place she could go at night to enjoy the outdoors.

The thing she liked most about her backyard was the privacy it afforded her.  From where she sat on the candle-lit patio, only rare, muffled street noises reached her ears, but she hardly noticed them.  Rows of evergreen bushes surrounded her yard on three sides, forming a privacy screen just tall enough to stop the views from the neighbors' windows, without blocking too much sun or, more importantly, her view of the stars--that is, when the famous London fog didn't blanket the ground.  She figured she even had enough privacy that she could whirl around naked if she wanted to and no one but the magpies would know.  Tonight Willow wasn't spinning around but instead just sitting back, looking at the stars.

She missed this.  The sleeping out in the open was something that she'd grown used to during her travels, and Willow often felt cooped up whenever weather forced her back indoors.  While her backyard lacked the romanticism that came with traveling--the campfires, the sounds of the night creatures, and the strains of the guitars--it was still better than sitting in a gloomy house with only the ceiling above her.  At least this way, she had the familiar stars and moon.

Willow reached for a glass of wine on the table beside her and took a long sip.  That was another aspect of the 'new' Willow.  She had developed a taste for red wine and enjoyed a glass, and sometimes more, almost every night after dinner.  Feeling a little silly due to the boredom, she lifted the glass in the air.

"Here's to change," she toasted to herself, then started giggling.  "Oh, won't you be surprised, Spike?" Willow said to her glass.  "There is just so much you don't know."

Setting her empty glass back down, Willow leaned back and looked for her favorite constellation.  She had just located it, the one known as the Watcher, when she got the feeling that she wasn't alone.

"I knocked but no one answered," Spike's voice came from the side gate,  "I thought I heard you back here."

Willow crowed with triumph inwardly but remained cool on the outside as she looked over to find the vampire walking toward her.  "Sorry, I wasn't expecting company."

Spike hid a smile as he took in the surroundings.  Willow had candles all about the yard.  Some just sitting on the ground, others poking out of bottles that had become covered in multicolored wax to the extent that you couldn't see the bottle underneath.  There was a bottle of wine on the table and two glasses.  <Sure you weren't expecting me, love.>

Willow watched as he noted the candles and the wine  <Egotistical vamp!  I bet he thinks I wait here every night for him!>  "Make yourself comfortable," she said coolly.

Spike took a seat across from her and met her stubborn look with one of his own, but his quickly melted away just from seeing the familiar mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

"It's good to see you, Willow," he said finally with a broad smile.

Her face lit up and her smile easily matched his.  "Now, was that so hard?" she quipped happily.  "Why couldn't you say that a few weeks ago?  It would have saved us a lot of time!"

Spike was taken aback.  "What?  You mean, that's all you wanted me to say?"

"Is that all?  Spike, you barely looked at me when I came back.  You acted as if I had intruded on your life.  I felt like an unwelcome reminder of something you'd rather forget all about."

Spike shrugged and took out cigarette.  "You surprised me, that's all.  Believe it or not, I'd been worried about you since I hadn't heard from you in bloody ages.  I was starting to think that something had happened to you, and then all of the sudden you were standing in front of me," the vampire explained before lighting his smoke and taking a long drag.

"So..." Willow began slowly, trying to decipher Spike's thinking process, "because you were worried about me, that made you behave like an old grump since we all know that big strong vampires like you shouldn't be concerned about one little girl like me, right?"

"In a nutshell, love," Spike chuckled, nodding his head.  "But I'm over it now.  I've come to terms with--"

"Your feminine side?" Willow offered teasingly.

Spike growled playfully.  "I was thinking more like my pathetic need to know that you're okay.  I guess you'd call it my nurturing side.  It's my only personality flaw, really."  Spike waited for a burst of laughter from the redhead or even a loud "Ha!" but instead she looked a little nervous...preoccupied.

Willow took another sip of her wine then ran a finger along the rim distractedly.  "Actually, Spike, I've been around for a few weeks.  I just wanted to make a grand entrance," she started, then paused, trying to find the right words.  "Also, I wanted to make sure that you were, well, alone."

"You were playing stalker to see if I'd made any new friends?" he laughed in disbelief.

"I just didn't want to interrupt anything, Spike.  For all I knew, you could have started a new 'special' family and had lots of little ankle biters running about the place."

Spike smirked but the laughter was gone.  "I didn't make any permanent attachments over the years, Willow.  I've decided I kind of like being a lone wolf; it's a damn sight easier, I can tell you.  And I can have short-term 'friendships' whenever I want."

"I couldn't agree more," she said as she nodded her understanding.  She then turned her attention back to the stars while Spike watched the smoke from his cigarette drift lazily in the night air, deep in thought.

"Wine?" Willow finally asked to bridge the silence.  "It's your favorite color."

The vampire pursed his lips as he studied her, noting the slight blush to her cheeks.  He was curious as to precisely how much she'd already had to drink.

"Wine isn't exactly my cup of tea, but I hate to see a lady drink alone.  After all, what would the neighbors think?"

"They think I'm a fairly well-off young widow, just out of her period of mourning, but not yet ready to face the real world on her own," she said over-dramatically and rolling her eyes.  "So far, they pretty much leave me alone, which is best I think."

"Widow...again?" Spike chuckled.

"It's practically the truth!"  Willow replied as she got to her feet.

"And how did you lose the love of your young life this time, Lady?" he asked in a very posh accent.

"Oh, it was a very tragic, er, blimp accident, Sir.  I fear I shall never love again," she wailed, pretending to cry into her hands.

"Never fear, Lady Smith.  I'm quite sure your heart will go on," he somehow managed with a straight face, but just barely.

Willow looked up in surprised amusement at his movie reference, and before she knew it, the words were out of her mouth.  "I missed you, Spike."

Before she could become embarrassed, Spike fixed her with a wicked smile.  "I know."

"Now's the point where you would tell me you missed me too, if you were any kind of gentleman," she reminded him with a huff.

Spike leaned back in the chair, put his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes.  "Well, I never was a bloody gentleman," he reminded her.

Her eyes narrowed at his familiar conceit.  "Now, before you get all mushy on me, I'll just go get a glass for your wine."

His eyes flitted open and Spike reached for the extra glass on the table.  "Why bother, Red?  Oddly enough, you seem to have an extra one here already?  You weren't waiting for me, were you?"

Willow quickly took the glass out of his hand.  "I don't think you want that one, my husband.  It may still have some Holy Water in it.  I sometimes keep a glass of it out here with me, just in case."

Spike scrambled to his feet.  "Bloody hell, love," he grumbled, eyeing that goblet with distaste.  "You should warn a bloke if you're going to do something as daft as that!"

"Sorry, Spike," she said innocently.  "If I'd known you were coming, I would have put it away.  But I like to spend a lot of time back here at night, and the wine glass is less suspicious than a big bottle with a cross on it," she informed him, then headed for the back door to get a clean glass and another bottle of wine.

"Willow?"  Spike called after her, causing Willow to stop and turn in the doorway.  "I suppose I did miss you...a little...every once in a while...."

Willow's face erupted into a huge smile. "I know, Spike.  I just wanted to hear you say it," she informed him with a wink, and then turned and entered her house.

*****

"I can't believe that we remember so much about life *before*," Willow commented a little later as she poured them both some more wine.  "I still remember most things so vividly, as if it were just yesterday--the songs that were popular, lines from movies obviously, and even the way everyone looks."  <Just none of the important things like soul restoration spells!  Probably since I'd never memorized it in the first place....>

Spike took a sip.  "Another side effect of that damned spell, I suppose.  What amazes me is how bloody lucky we've been so far, Willow," Spike continued.  "No matter how much we seem to balls things up, eventually everything goes the way it should.  Angelus and William are traipsing about Ireland right now, having the time of their unlives, just like I did the first time around.  Soon, they'll hop over to France for a year or two and be a general nuisance there.  Oh, and that's where I'll bag my first slayer, I might add!" he said with a boastful grin.

"Slayers," Willow groaned.  "I guess it's just a matter of time before one of us ends up in the same place as the Chosen One."

"No.  No more annoying little do-gooders in London for another half a century or so, and by then we'll be long gone," Spike said merrily.  "See? Lucky again!"

Willow snickered.  "Luck has nothing to do with it, Spike.  I can't help but wonder how much control we have over our own lives.  It's almost like from the moment you cast that spell, we became someone's puppets.  No matter what we do or where we go, the end result will be the same."

Spike wrinkled his brow in consternation before dropping his stub and grinding out the last dying embers with his heel. "That's a little fatalistic, even for you, Red.  Now, care to explain precisely what you mean by that?"

Willow took another sip of her wine and then a deep breath as she told him the subject of some of her recent journal entries.  "Think about it.  I mean, don't you find it strange that on my first day in Galway, I run into Angelus?  Then, in London the first time I cut through the park at night, I run into you.  Later, once again, just a fluke, Angelus finds me.  Not to mention that time you saw Angelus and yourself in a pub, or the time I met William while you were still alive, and then there was the time--"

"What?"  Spike demanded, bolting out of his chair to crouch in front of Willow.  "What did you just say?"

"I said 'fluke', Spike...not f--"

"Not that!  The part about William...you met him?"

"Oh, yeah, didn't I mention that before?" Willow asked coyly.

"No, Willow," he ground out through gritted teeth.  "You never mentioned that incredibly important little tidbit before.  How could you be so bloody stupid!"

Willow flinched under his ire but brushed it off.  "No need to get so upset, Spike.  We--"

"Did you talk to him?" he interrupted.

"Well, yes, but--"

"How could you, Willow?" Spike said into the hand that was how clutching at his forehead.  He shook his head violently, like he was trying to destroy his thoughts.  When that didn't seem to help he turned to pacing and occasionally throwing his hands up in the air like he were pleading to some higher power for strength.

Willow watched his childish tantrum, a little hurt that he would think she was stupid enough to actually do anything that might harm the timeline.

She started to explain.  "I was just walking by a pub one day and he was standing outside.  He said I looked lonely and sad, and he wanted to buy me a drink to cheer me up."

"And?" he grunted.

Her eyes narrowed at his rudeness, and she felt the need to prolong his torture just a moment longer.  "He told me I was beautiful," she told him truthfully, with a far-away look on her face.

Spike couldn't believe it.  <Why the bloody hell didn't the little chit tell me that William had tried to chat her up before?>  "Oh bloody hell, Willow.  Don't tell me you fell for it?  I, er, *William*, would have asked you what your sign was if *he* thought it would get you in to his bed!"

Willow was growing angrier by the second, and to hide it she quickly took another gulp of wine.

Spike stared at her, his pacing now stopping directly in front of her.  "Well, go on."

Willow knew she should tell him the truth, but she was angry.  "I couldn't help it, Spike," she began, flustered.  "I was intrigued, for some reason.  It was a chance for me to get to know you, before you became, you, and...."

"And?" he urged.

"And we had a few drinks, talked, and, well...."

Spike, tired of her sheepish behavior and stalling tactics, grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet so that they were face to face.  "Well what, Willow?"

Willow didn't flinch this time; she met him eye-to-eye instead.  "You're an adult, Spike, figure it out.  Or do you want me to draw pictures?  I may need you to pose though."

"Willow..." the irate vampire growled.

"Oh, come on, Spike," she continued mercilessly.  "Obviously we didn't do too much since the spell is still working."

"How much?"

Willow pursed her lips and let her most innocent look fall into place.  "I'm not the kind of girl to kiss and tell."

Spike's jaw fell open and he shook his head in denial, taking a few steps back.  "I, er, I mean, *he* kissed you?"

"No."

Spike visibly relaxed.  "That's a bloody relief.  I don't know what we would have done if--"

"I kissed him," she lied, and the game was on.

Spike's eyes widened in shock momentarily but soon narrowed in disbelief.  It just didn't sound like his Willow.  He strode back to her, studying her face closely for any of the telltale signs that she was lying.  He just couldn't be sure.

"No you didn't."

Willow shrugged. "Okay, then, I didn't.  Whatever makes it easier for you to handle Spike."

Spike upped the ante.  "Prove it."

This time it was the emerald eyes that widened in surprise.  "Excuse me?"

"Prove it, Red.  Kiss me, like you kissed him."

Willow backed away, shaking her head in disbelief.  "You're kidding, right?  Tell me you're kidding, Spike, because that is the most juvenile thing I've ever heard!  How old are you supposed to be anyway?"

Spike disregarded her taunting and kept firmly focused on the subject at hand.  "What's the problem, Willow?  If we've already kissed before, like you said we have, it shouldn't make a difference if we do it now."

"Uh, uh!" Willow exclaimed.  "That was a living William, and you aren't William...or living, for that matter!"

It was Spike's turn to smirk.  "Now who's the one being childish, Pet?  I always knew you weren't mature enough to handle an adult relationship, and this just proves me right, doesn't it?"

Her mouth fell open as she realized the lengths he would go to just to see her blush again.  She quickly figured out his little game, however.

"Don't even try to use reverse psychology on me, buster!" Willow chided, wagging a finger at him.  It was her turn to call his bluff.  "I know perfectly well that you're just trying to goad me into kissing you.  Well, it won't work.  If you want to kiss me so badly, then come over here and do it yourself!"

"Now who's using reverse psychology?  Who's trying to make the big bad vampire seem like less of a demon because he can't ravish one tiny little female?"  The smirk developed into an arrogant smile that encompassed his whole face.  Even his stance seemed to be mocking her, and Willow's fury grew.

Willow glared at him from across the brick patio.  No matter what she said, he would be able to twist her words, making her look like desperate fool.

Seeing her pause, Spike smelled victory but decided to give her a chance to come clean.  "Admit it, Red.  Tell me the truth about your little tete-a-tete with my living self."

A sly smile crept on to her face.  Willow hurried into the house only to stand in the doorway seconds later with a deck of cards.

"You beat me, and I'll tell you the truth, the whole, truth, and nothing but the truth."

Spiked walked to the doorway wearing a grin that equaled Willow's in its potential for mischief.

"Deal."
 

~Chapter Twenty-seven~

Three hours later, all of Willow's make-shift poker chips finally sat in a heap before Spike.  She'd lost, which was not surprising even to her, but what was a surprise was that for the first time she'd won many hands and had been a pretty good opponent.  The game would have lasted much longer if Spike hadn't caught some lucky breaks in the cards that he'd been dealt.

"You've been practicing, both at your cards and your lying," Spike commented through a smirk, curious as to how her skills had improved so much.  "What finally brought out the bad girl in you, Red?"

Willow shrugged nonchalantly, hiding her enormous pleasure at finally being able to hold her own against the vampire at poker.  "Lets just say I met up with some interesting characters during my travels, Spike.  I learned a lot while I was gone.  Sometimes being bad was a necessity...sometimes it was just fun."

After scrutinizing her for a moment, as if he could see the answers in her delicate features if he just looked hard enough, Spike rose from his seat to pretend to study the dishes in the cupboard behind him.  He was much more intrigued to learn exactly what she had gotten up to during her years on the continent as opposed to the pattern of the fine china, but he didn't want it to show.

"Tell me more," he said in a bored tone.  "I could use a good bedtime story."

Willow slowly poured herself another glass of wine and took a thoughtful sip. "No.  I don't want to tell that story yet, Spike.  I think I could get used to being a woman of mystery."

"One silly little secret doesn't makes you a woman of mystery.  I'll admit that you do have a terrific amount of bewildering and exasperating habits, love, but that hardly makes you mysterious.  Just...bloody...irritating," he goaded.

Willow raised an eyebrow and took another sip of her wine.  "Whatever you say, Spike."  A secretive smile curved at her lips even as she held the glass to her mouth.  "Whatever you say."

The perplexed vampire leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms about his chest.  "Now, since obviously you are in no mood to tell me about the recent past, let's go back a bit," Spike said with a familiar smug look on his pale face. "Let's hear the truth about you and William, shall we?"

Wrinkling her brow in a display of mock confusion, Willow set down her glass and stood up to clear the cards and poker chips away.

"The truth?  What's the point?  It changes all the time, doesn't it?"

Spike shook his head.  "Now you're just avoiding the subject, Pet.  We had a deal.  You lost, so now you have to pay the piper.  What happened?  The truth this time!"

Willow paused, looking at her shoes as she struggled with herself for the briefest of moments, but it passed so quickly that even Spike didn't notice it.  She raised her head to catch his gaze.  Capturing his steely blue eyes with hers of emerald, Willow slowly walked across the room to stand in front of him, invading his space like he had done to her so many times before.

"What do you really want to know, Spike?"

"Did you kiss William?"

Willow smiled enigmatically and bit her bottom lip.  The small action caused Spike to lower his gaze and become mesmerized by her soft mouth.

"No," she finally said in a throaty whisper, "I didn't..."

Before Spike had a chance to gloat, Willow reached up, put a hand behind his head and pulled his mouth towards hers.  She kissed the surprised vampire softly and only for a moment.  It had been more years than she cared to remember since she'd last been kissed, and even though she was the instigator, the ethereal redhead was hardly prepared for the sensation of his lips against hers.  Perhaps it was simply because it had been so very, very long, but it hadn't felt like this before...not with Oz, not with anybody.  A spark of primal electricity passed between them that traveled down her whole body, igniting every nerve throughout her petite frame.  The kiss lasted mere seconds, but Willow found it hard to breathe when they parted.  She forced herself to look into Spike's eyes and saw her hunger and confusion mirrored there.

"...But I have now," she continued breathlessly after a hard swallow.  "See.  The truth changes constantly."

"I'm not William," Spike retorted darkly, unable to tear his eyes from her tantalizing lips once again.

"I know, " Willow managed, trying very hard to remain as calm and collected as she'd been before the kiss, even though she now felt like everything they'd been through together had been building up to this moment.  That was when she became aware that her hand was still on the back of his neck, holding his face close to hers.  She slowly drew her hand away, running her fingers along his jaw.  Her eyes recorded her hand's path over every clenched muscle in that side of his face, and as she reluctantly pulled her hand away from him, his face was drawn with it.  Willow was unable to keep her fingers from beckoning him.  This time there was no small talk.  No excuses.

Their mouths met again in a kiss so filled with hunger and desire that it wrenched low moans from both of them.  To the casual observer, if there had been one, it might have sounded as if the kiss were painful, when in truth it was the exact opposite.  It was the cure for everything that had ailed them for decades.  Not that the kisses were delicate or comforting in nature by any means.  They were, instead, very cathartic.  Nor was there anything tentative about their kisses either--no slow building from butterfly-like brushes of lip against lip, to slowly opening mouths and gently probing tongues.  The kisses weren't meant for seduction.  The last near-100 years had been all the seduction they needed.

Willow thought briefly that she should fight this, fight her need for the sometime-enemy, sometime-friend vampire in her arms, but decades of little physical contact with a man made the battle useless.  Her inner conflict was short and soon her hands were running through his hair, lightly caressing the back of his neck, holding him to her.

On the other hand, the thought never crossed Spike's mind that he should fight this.  It was what he'd wanted for a long time now, dreamed of more times than he could recall.  There was no part of him that didn't want this to happen.  Imitating his dreams, the vampire dug his hands firmly into her hips, bringing her slight body soundly against his and thrilling at her rapidly beating heart against his chest.  There was nothing like feeling the response of a woman's body pressed against his own--the quickened pulse, the blood rushing through her veins, even her hot breath as it came out in pants to warm his own cool flesh.  It was one of the best parts of feeding from the living--the side effects of fear in the victim's body.  But this, this was different.  This was not true fear but desire--the desire of a sensual, intelligent woman for a soulless vampire.

Her fate was sealed the moment she felt his firm body against hers, thigh-to-thigh, her soft breasts crushed against his well-defined chest, even through the multiple layers of the chaste Victorian clothing.  Her entire being may have been aflame from the kisses, but wherever their bodies touched, she was positively molten.

Spike's mouth left hers only to trail wet kisses down her throat, drawing whimpers from Willow.  The vampire found the exact spot where he had bitten her a lifetime ago, her last night in Galway, and he nibbled and kissed the area gently, his tongue tracing the light scar that would forever mark her as his.  The thought pleased the demon in him as it sensed how close it was to gaining everything it wanted.  Spike's hand moved to the back of her head, winding itself in her hair before gently pulling back to fully expose her neck to him.  He recalled how she tasted that night, and the thought of once again savoring her unique essence made him growl in spite of himself.

Willow, too, was remembering the same night.  It was the last time he 'd held her this way, only to betray her trust and feed from her.  In the back of Willow's passion-fogged mind, she heard the growl and felt his subtle nips and scratches on her skin, but it didn't repel her.  Instead, knowing that she could drive him to such baser, darker actions made her heart pound.  Somehow, the thought of her power over him frightened her and gave her courage at the same time.  For a change, the confusion felt good and she moaned her approval.

Her soft moans made him tear his mouth away from her slender neck long enough to look into her eyes.  He still held her head by the hair and from her eyes he knew that she was remembering the same night he was.

His face was serious as he stared intently at her.  "Do you trust me?"

It wasn't a matter of trust to Willow.  She knew he wouldn't intentionally hurt her but could he control himself?  Even as his eyes glinted yellow, the color of caution and warning, they also shone with the self-mastery she'd seen there before.  She'd tested him time and time again and he'd always passed.  This was just the final exam.

When she didn't answer immediately, he traced a path down the other side of her neck with his tongue, causing her to clutch at him.  He returned to pierce her emerald eyes once more.

"Do you trust me, my little virgin?" he repeated.

She knew what he was asking.  His words were promising so much.  An end to her loneliness for at least one night, an end to the hunger that had been with her for what seemed like an eternity, but most importantly, a promise to remind her what life was supposed to be about--something they both seemed to have forgotten.  Willow didn't need to think about it anymore.

She reached a hand to his jaw, her finger slowly tracing the outline of the cross-shaped scar that she had put there many years before.  It was so long ago, yet sometimes seemed like just yesterday.  He had destroyed her trust once before, and that was the beginning of a long rebuilding process, which now culminated with them in each other's arms.

Spike's eyes closed under her touch.  The scar momentarily the center of his world as it burned beneath her fingers' exploration.  When he felt her mouth then trace the same path her fingers had, gently licking and scratching in manner similar to the attention he had just given her scar, Spike's need for her grew exponentially.

"Yes" she finally whispered against the raised flesh.

At her lusty confession, Spike's eyes flew open, and he reached for her, dragging her face back to his.  He kissed her possessively, sending an icy shiver down her spine that metamorphosed to warmth in her belly.  His tongue searched out hers, teasing it with quick flicks of his own, almost daring it.  Not one to back down from a challenge, Willow slipped her tongue in between his lips, exploring and probing deeply.  Her tongue slid against his, teasing it with her heat, until she had to pull back for air.  Before she could catch a breath, Spike scooped her into his arms and headed out of the kitchen.

"Willow, where's your bedroom?" he asked deeply.  His gaze traveled the entire length of her body, setting her stomach aflutter again at his frank display of desire.

Willow slowly started undoing the buttons on Spike's shirt as best she could with one shaky hand.

"Upstairs.  Last door on the left," she replied, slipping her hand under his shirt to let it roam over what little of his chest she could reach.

Spike carried her briskly up the stairs.  After kicking the door open, he swept through it to stop in front of the enormous fireplace.  He slowly let go of her legs while still holding her upper body, causing her to languidly slide down the length of him until she was on her feet but still held tightly against the vampire.

Neither spoke or moved for a moment, each one seemingly giving the other one last chance to stop.  They held each other's gaze and never faltered, until Spike finally broke the stalemate.

He lowered his mouth to her cheek, dragging her lips against its softness.  "Are you cold, love?  Do you want me to start a fire?" he whispered against the corner of her mouth then moved to look at her face.

She smiled wickedly, unable to help herself.  "You already have, Spike," she answered huskily, using one finger to trace the line of his collarbone, as he had done to her so many times before.

Needing to take possession of her lips again, Spike's mouth descended to hers.  Much to her dismay, however, it stopped a hair's width away.

"For tonight, Willow, call me William if you want," he acquiesced, before kissing her more softly and sensually than Willow had ever imagined he was capable of.  His seemingly simple offer was anything but, and it created a deep ache in her soul.

Willow surprised Spike by pulling away from the toe-curling kiss.  She leaned back in his arms so that he could clearly see her face.  It was important that the vampire knew she was completely serious.

"No, Spike," she said firmly.  "We are *not* William and Rose or pretending to be husband and wife.  We are Spike and Willow."

Her words confirmed Spike's innermost hopes.  She wasn't deluding herself or pretending he was something other than he was.  She was kissing Spike the vampire, touching Spike the vampire, not the caricature they'd created for the benefit of others.

Before Spike could express his pleasure with her answer, Willow pressed her heated lips to his.  She tasted them, savoring the salty flavor of his skin and nibbling on his lower lip.  Her hands wantonly explored every ounce of skin and muscle beneath her quivering fingertips.  Finally, she finished pulling the tails of his shirt out of his trousers and quickly undid the last few buttons before she pushed it and his coat down off of his hard body.  When his chest was bare to her, she trailed her mouth down his neck, stopping to swirl her tongue around his Adam's apple.  His low groans made her smile briefly before continuing to taste her way down his collarbone.  Meanwhile, her equally as hungry hands slipped around to his back, nails scratching ever so lightly in circles around his shoulder blades, holding him to her.  When her mouth found his nipples, first one, then the other, she wondered at their cold hardness and took turns licking and worrying them with her teeth.  Willow enjoyed the different responses she received for her efforts and let them guide her in pleasing the vampire.

Spike had long ago thrown his head back in submission as she took her time investigating his upper body.  He gave her the time, although it took a heap of willpower not to seize control of the situation and give them the release they both so desperately needed.  He knew that she needed this, and for the moment he was content to intertwine his hands in her long, luxurious locks. When he finally couldn't take any more, Spike used a hand on each side of her face to pull her back up so he could see her flushed cheeks.

"Willow, you've been holding out on me."

She responded with a sexy smile, her eyes equally glazed over with need.  "I think we've been holding out on each other."

She reached out to run a finger across his lips, the lips that she'd seen pursed in anger and frustration and even in amusement, but under her touch, they parted and his tongue darted out to taste her finger.  When he suddenly caught it between his teeth, Willow gasped.  Reflex caused her to try and yank her hand away, but Spike captured her hand with his.  Holding it a prisoner to his mouth, the vampire traced maddening circles along her sensitive palm with his thumb.  The slight pain of his teeth was fleeting and soon replaced only by a throbbing in her loins that echoed the rhythm of his tongue on her slender digit.

"Spike," she hissed, unable to take her eyes off of the spot where her finger disappeared into the cool recesses of his mouth.

Spike finally released her finger at the sound of the unabashed need in her voice, and Willow quickly covered his mouth with her own.  This time Spike took control of the kiss, deepening it.  His fingers moved from her face and the small of her spine, up to the back of her dress.  He was tired of feeling only the material of her gown beneath his fingers.

Suddenly he broke away.  "Damn!" he cursed softly as he fumbled with the first small button on the back of her dress.  "Now I remember another bloody reason why I hate the 19th century!  Willow," he drawled in her ear, stopping long enough to trace it with his tongue.  "How much do you like this frock?  Don't suppose I could just rip the bloody thing off you?"

Willow suppressed a giggle.  Just the fact that he asked surprised her.  "Actually," she said huskily, tilting her head to give him full access to that side of her neck," it *is* my favorite."

With a growl and a last nip at the curve just below her ear, Spike reluctantly let go of the redhead to move behind her.

Willow sighed at the loss of his cool mouth against her fevered skin and the lines of his back beneath her eager hands.

Standing behind her, Spike eyed the long row of tiny white pearl buttons that followed the curve of her spine.  It wasn't that he was out of practice in removing a Victorian style of dress.  It was simply that these types of gowns and buttons were infuriating to even the most experienced seducer, and he found himself suddenly missing zippers.  With a determined clenching of his jaw, he began his assault on her clothing.

She felt his fingers working at the top of her gown and instantly regretted teasing him.  Every second that his fingers labored at the fasteners was one in which the rest of her body started to feel cold and neglected.

As if reading her thoughts, Spike pulled her roughly back against him after undoing the first button.  She turned her head, and his mouth found hers.  All too soon, in Willow's opinion, he pulled back, easing her away from him just to attack the next button.  He repeated the titillating kiss after the second button was released, just to push her away again.  After the third button, he instead let his hands slide down her hips suggestively, then slowly move back up again, just to start his attack on the next little button.

After a few more times of this, Willow found herself unable to stop the moans that escaped between her quivering lips.  It was torture what he was doing to her.  One button at a time he was driving her mad with desire until she felt like screaming.  The next time his hands wandered to her thighs, she grabbed them.

"Spike, please..." she gasped, "just rip the damn dress off already.  I can buy another one!"

Spike chuckled softly against the nape of her neck, pleased that he was able to create such a response in the woman.  "Willow," he whispered against her sweet skin, "you have waited a century already."  His hands wandered to her chest, taunting her further as they circled around her breasts. The vampire carefully avoided any contact with her sensitive nipples, even though there were several layers of material separating his skin from hers.  "Certainly another hour or so won't be too difficult for you to take!"

In a vain attempt to push her breasts into his hands, she put her head back and rested it against his shoulder.  "You are truly evil sometimes..." she whimpered, but still a small smile crossed her lips.

His hands moved back to the buttons, pushing her away slightly, yet again, from his body.  "Yes, and don't you ever forget it."  His voice was dark and dangerous, almost a growl.  It reverberated throughout her body, increasing her need, but he continued to focus the ministrations of his talented hands on the remaining fasteners.

By the time he was able to slide the dress off of her, a dozen or so buttons later, she was beyond all logical thought.  She felt as though if his hands didn't touch her naked flesh soon she would simply cease to be, as every fiber of her being would implode from unquenched hunger.  But even when the dress was pooled about her ankles, his torment didn't stop.  There was still the small matter of the corset, which he easily untied with deft fingers.  One by one, the various layers of undergarments found the floor until Willow stood naked before him, her back still to the blonde vampire.

"Spike...please..." she pleaded and started to turn to face him, needing to press her body against his.

"Don't turn around," he commanded, halting her movement.  His own voice was rough with desire. Although he enjoyed his sensual torment of her, he wanted nothing more now than to explore every inch of her tender ivory skin with his hands and his mouth.  Still, he didn't move to caress her.  Instead he quickly removed the rest of his clothes, kicking the pile away, before grabbing her by the waist and brusquely pulling her back against him.  Their mouths met over her shoulder in a slow sensual kiss as her hand moved to his jaw.  Finally, his slowly-warming hands meandered up to cup her firm breasts.

She moaned into his mouth, instinctively arching her back to push herself further into his touch and was rewarded by Spike brushing the palms of his hands in a circular motion on her hardened nipples.  She tentatively let her other hand move behind her, running along the length of his firm thigh and buttock, sometimes stroking sometimes scratching with her nails.  It was his turn to moan and he pressed his pelvis closer to her.

The vampire turned his attention lower now, moving his explorations to her flat abdomen and hips, slowing moving downward until he found the soft flesh of her thighs.  He squeezed and caressed them, as his mouth moved to her neck, lingering over the pulse points and relishing the feel of her rapidly flowing blood.

Willow couldn't take the torment any more and covered his hands with hers.  The way she slowly nudged them toward where she craved contact the most, drew a dark chuckle from the vampire.

"Impatient little thing, aren't you?" he growled, but before she could think of a suitable retort, all thoughts flew from her mind as his fingers finally brushed against her swollen nether lips.  Her breath caught in her throat as she waited for his exquisite touch again, and before she knew it she had parted her legs a little further, inviting him to stroke her fully.  When his fingers found her sensitive nub and strummed it gently, her legs began to give way and she clutched at his body behind her for support.  Instantly his hands left her, and for a moment she felt lost in a dizzying swirl of desire without his touch before he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

He lay her down but didn't join her on the four-poster bed.  Spike stood there, looking down on her, their eyes meeting.  She gazed up into his steely blue eyes that sparkled with desire, wondering what he was waiting for.  Then her whole body began to flush as she realized he was letting his eyes take in her whole body, making love to her with those penetrating orbs.  They traveled over her, slowly, sensually.  As they did, she could almost feel the heat of his passion as they stopped on her lips, the hollow of her throat, her breasts, wandering down to memorize her firm abdomen and the curve of her hips, then her shapely legs, until finally they came back up to rest upon the small nest of hair that lay between her thighs.  She willed herself to stay still, not to roll over and hide her body from him.  Instead she let him drink his fill of the very sight of her, until his eyes finally returned to hers, hungrier than ever.

"William was right, Willow.  You are beautiful." he said huskily, then moved to join her on the bed.

"No!" she commanded, gesturing for him to stay where he was.  "Now it's my turn."  Willow propped herself up on one elbow.  Slowly, her eyes left his, stopping to admire the sharp curves of his cheekbones and upper lip.  She then devoured every muscle in his chest, even pausing to memorize the outline of his nipples.  She took in his abs, slim torso, and muscular thighs and calves, and finally, with a deep breath, she looked at his long, hardened shaft.  Since she had never really seen a penis close up before, let alone an erect one, the redhead was tempted to move closer to examine it further, but her need overrode her curiosity and she slowly lifted her eyes until they again met his.

The blonde vamp's lips curled into a smile as he saw the outright lust etched all over her flushed face.  Although he could sense her nervousness, there was no fear.

"Do you still trust me, my little virgin?"  When she smiled and nodded, he lay beside her, pulling her to him in a punishing kiss that left her lips slightly bruised and swollen.  His voracious mouth moved to her breasts.  Spike sucked in each nipple and caught them between his teeth, prying gasps of pain-tinged pleasure from deep within her.

As they lay side by side, Willow moaned her encouragement as she ran her fingers lightly through his short hair and over his cheekbones.  Soon that wasn't enough, and she tentatively reached down to lightly stroke his erection.

Spike closed his eyes and threw his head back.  Her naive touches only heightened his raw need for her, and for a brief moment he wondered if he would be able to fulfill his end of the bargain after all.

Willow noticed his hesitation and quickly rolled on top of him to straddle his hips, the feel of his muscular coolness between her legs making her dizzy.  "I trust you, Spike...." she affirmed before planting hungry kisses up the line of his shoulder.  "With my body..." she persisted, her tongue snaked its way from his chin down his neck.  "With my life..." she murmured against his Adam's apple and then scraped her teeth over the hollow of his throat, wrenching a hiss from the vampire.  "With my future..." she continued as she made her way down his body, tasting and licking every contoured muscle.  "And with my soul," she finished reverently, stopping to dip her tongue in his navel.  She couldn't seem to get enough of the taste of his skin and the feel of it beneath her hands.  It occurred to Willow at that point that she was bingeing...devouring Spike like he was a buffet of chocolate desserts after a long, strict diet.  The idea only made her want to sample and savor everything on the menu.

Willow's admissions rocked Spike to the core.  For a vampire to have a living woman's trust was a heady elixir, and his demon howled with delight.  "Oh God...Willow..." he whispered, and he reached for her, trying to block out the demon's demands.

Willow felt his hands wander through her hair, and down her face, tracing the line of her cheeks with strong thumbs, like they were searching for something within her.  When his fingers came in contact with her mouth, she abandoned her ministrations on his stomach to quickly reach out and draw a finger between her teeth.  She sucked on his digit, swirling her tongue around it.  A strange satisfaction grew within her at the sounds of his groans, his barely audible pleas, and the gyration of his hips in longing for more contact with her hot flesh.

"Bloody hell, woman..." he growled, as the erotic sensation of her heated mouth on his hand brought forth from him the strongest of desires.  She felt so good, better than he'd dared imagined all this time.  Wanting to see her, Spike slowly drew his hands up to his face, and Willow along with it.  She stopped her bathing of his digit, only to increase the pressure with her teeth and smile wickedly.  With his free hand, he pulled her head down to his and ran his tongue across her lips, teasing them, until she parted them with a sigh, releasing his forefinger.  He enveloped the hole his departing finger had left, and Willow repeated her actions on his tongue, sucking and nibbling, circling his with her own.

Once again, it took more strength than Spike knew he possessed not to roll over and take her right then and there.  Again he gave her the time she needed to explore him, please him, experiment even.  He couldn't imagine what it was like for her to go for so long without her body being worshipped in the manner that it deserved.  Although he had no idea what she'd been up to in the recent decades, the deep longing was still there.  He was fairly confident that he was the first man she was ever with in such an intimate way, and that pleased him and his demon immensely.

"Willow," he finally said as she pulled away for a much-needed breath, "for a virgin, you sure seem to know a bloody lot about--"

Willow cut him off with a quick nibble on his ear.  "A girl doesn't work for 50 years in pubs and taverns and not learn a few things about sex.  You can learn a lot just by listening" she said haughtily as she sat back and once again lowered her hand to his penis, stroking it more firmly this time.  She was uncertain of what she was doing but she didn't want it to show.  Hearing what men liked and reading about it was different from doing it, but from the sounds emanating from her partner, the guttural moans, animalistic growls and mutterings of her name, she figured she must be doing something right.

Much more of this, and Spike would find his release before she would, and that was not what he wanted or what she deserved.  The vampire pulled her hand away and quickly rolled her over so she was only half beneath him.

"You first, Willow.  I'm nothing if not a gentleman."  His hand moved between her thighs, and she parted them willingly with a sharp intake of breath in anticipation but still he didn't touch her where she most yearned for it.  "Willow, there are a lot of things that I would love to do to you that might mean sacrificing your virginity, but I'm sure we can come up with more than a few creative ways of giving you what you need."

Willow was teetering.  He was driving her insane with need. <I can't believe after all his teasing, all that sexual innuendo, he still wants to talk about it!>  "Spike," Willow said breathlessly, "sometimes you talk too bloody much!"  She raked her nails down his chest, and bucked her hips against his hand, trying to drive home her need for him.

Spike growled in response to her aggressiveness, his eyes vacillating between blue and amber, but he didn't give in.  His languid stroking of her continued, only occasionally brushing against the throbbing center of her need.

"I just want to be thorough," he said through a sexy smirk.

<Two can play at this game!>  She groaned again, simultaneously thrusting her swollen sex toward his agonizing hand while reaching for him.  Her eyes danced deviously as she mimicked each of his strokes.  For every whisper-soft caress of her thigh, she matched it by softly caressing his.  Each casual brush against one of her sensitive areas was repeated on him. Their eyes remained focused on each other, pupils dilating in response to their growing hunger.  Their hands continued their teasing dance until they were both ready to plead with the other for release.  Finally, his fingers concentrated on her center, exploring her wetness, and always careful not to enter her virginal channel.  She returned the favor by grasping his swollen member firmly, stroking in a rhythm that matched his.  Each involuntarily rotated their hips closer to the others hand, until they had found a matching rhythm even though their bodies were joined only by their hands and lips.  When his thumb began a circular motion on her most sensitive nub, Willow felt her orgasm building.  His mouth lowered to her breast, nipping and sucking, pushing her closer to the pinnacle of desire.

Spike felt his climax nearing as well as Willow continued her maddening strokes.  "Come for me, Red," he urged.  "Give yourself to me, Willow."

At the mere sound of his voice, Willow's back arched as her body was overcome by waves of pleasure.  Her free hand clutched at his back, digging into him as is she were holding on for her sanity, and receiving a growl in response.

Spike watched her face intently, loving her unbridled display of emotion as she came, and his urgency increased.  He had to fight to keep control, wanting so badly to enter her and ride her waves from the inside while the demon was insisting for a different course of action.

Willow pried her eyes open to refocus on Spike's face as the waves crashed through her again and again, and she was surprised to find him studying her.  He was struggling to retain mastery of himself, and she could see it.  Her attention to his needs had faltered under the force of her own orgasm, so as the final shudders coursed through her, she pushed him onto his back to half cover him with her upper body.

"Your turn," she managed through ragged breaths.

Spike was confused for only a moment in her sudden change in positions until she renewed her attention to his painful erection.  He marveled for a moment in her unselfishness, but only for a moment as his demon screamed for attention.  He threw his head back and bit his lip, hoping against hope that the taste of his own blood would quell the demon enough for it to stay in hiding, but then an amazing thing happened.  Spike felt her hot hand at the back of neck, urging him up closer to her.  Even as his eyes popped open in surprise, the blue gave way to amber and focused hungrily on her glistening throat.

As the last of the shudders ebbed through her, Willow tilted her head back, exposing herself even more to the vampire.

"Spike," she said breathlessly, holding his mouth to her neck.  "It's okay, I trust you.  Bite me, Spike.  Let me feed you..."

And with a feral growl, he changed completely.  Spike's hands left her body to hold her head to him as his fangs pierced her delicate skin as gently as possible.  He felt her tense momentarily at the initial pain, but soon her gasps were only of pleasure as she surrendered to the erotic sensation of him drawing her life's essence out of her.  He suckled there, devouring her orgasm-spiced blood as she brought him to his own climax with her hands and her blood.  He cradled Willow's soft, warm body against his own as he was wracked with so much pleasure that he feared he would lose consciousness while still drinking from her.

Slowly, Spike regained control and loosened his death grip on her.  After licking soothingly at Willow's new wounds, the vampire found the courage to pull away.  This was the part that he'd never dreamt about.  While in his haunted dreams they must have taken pleasure in each other a thousand times, he always woke up immediately after their release.  He held his breath unnecessarily as he finally moved to gaze into her eyes, only to find them closed and a look of complete fulfillment on her beautiful, flushed face.

Willow curled into his body, overwhelmed with sleepiness.  She could feel him staring at her, but she couldn't force her eyes open.  As she felt herself drift off to sleep, she managed to whisper three small words--

"Thank you, Spike."
 

~Chapter Twenty-eight~

Spike watched her sleep for hours, only getting out of bed to stoke the fire when the flames began to give way to dying embers.  It was a chilly night, and he knew that sleeping next to a vampire could take some getting used to temperature-wise, so he'd started the small blaze soon after Willow had succumbed to sleep.  But that was hours ago, and he was getting impatient.  The vampire shifted a few times in the bed, purposely trying to rouse her, but she didn't budge.  Next he tried clearing his throat at various volume levels, but that also failed to stir the woman that was sleeping soundly next to him.

"Guess I took a little too much blood if I was hoping for seconds," he grumbled to himself.  He wanted her to wake up.  It may have only been a few hours ago that they were wantonly discovering each other's bodies, but it already seemed like an eternity had passed.  Admittedly, part of him was apprehensive of her reaction.  He doubted that sleeping with a demon was on her list of things to do during her school holidays.  Yet she seemed so different now that he figured there wouldn't be a problem.  <Besides,> he reminded himself, <she kissed you, mate!>  A wicked smile curled at his lips as he relived the night in his mind, and he almost didn't notice when Willow finally stirred, shifting in her sleep to face away from him.

"Finally..." he rumbled in anticipation, moving to spoon in behind her.  Spike lazily ran his hand along the curve of her bare hip and was rewarded with a sleepy sigh.  He brushed her hair to the side and drew his tongue along the nape of her neck, trying to pull her out of dreamland.

He knew the moment she awoke because every muscle in her body tensed.  "Morning, Red," he murmured against her shoulder blade.

When she didn't answer, Spike moved his mouth closer to her ear, flicking a tongue out to taste the lobe.  "I think we're all done playing hard to get now, love.  I know you're awake...heart beat increased, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera..."

Then he felt it.  She was shaking, and not from the cool morning air, either.  She was crying.

<Oh bloody hell...I should've known...>  "Willow?"  Spike rose up on his elbow, trying to peer over her shoulder.

Willow's hands moved to cover her face, and she curled into a fetal position.  "Oh God...what have I done?  Oh God...Oh God...Oh God..." she cried into her hands, jerking her body away from the vampire.

Spike pulled back as his touch only seemed to upset her more.  "What the bloody hell are you crying about, Red?" he demanded.

Willow wailed a little louder.  "How could you?" she gasped between sobs.  "I was...I...had too much to drink and you knew that!  How could you?"

Spike bolted upright in bed.  "Hold on a bloody second, Pet!  We may have put back a few drops of wine last night, but you were far from drunk!" he informed her bare back.  "Don't make me remind you who did the kissing?  If anyone should be sobbing their heart out right now it should be me!  Well, if I had one, that is..."

Willow shook her head violently but kept her face hidden between her hands and the pillow.  "No!  You knew I was drunk...Oh God...Oh God...I slept with a demon!  I'll never, ever be able to wear white when I get married now...and what am I going to tell Oz?  I am *so* going to hell for this...Oh God..."

"You're behaving like a bloody child, Willow!"  Spike'd had enough of her immature behavior and was ready to beat some sense into her--or kiss some sense into her--whatever it took.  He grabbed his lover by the back of the shoulders and yanked her to him, shifting so that she was pinned beneath him.

"Now quit your blubbering and look at me!" he demanded, grabbing her hands to try and pry them away from her face.

Willow struggled with all her might, trying to get out from beneath the vampire without removing the hands that hid her face. Unfortunately, Spike was stronger than her and easily pinned her wrists next to her head...revealing her huge grin.

"Gotcha!" she said smugly, lifting her head from the mattress to plant a firm kiss on his bewildered lips.

The blonde vampire tore his mouth away to stare down at Willow's smiling face in disbelief.

"I told you one day I'd get you when you'd least expected it, Spike," Willow gloated, beaming in triumph.  "Okay, so maybe it took a century, but if you could see the look on your face..."  Willow couldn't stop herself from laughing, and she didn't even try.

Spike wanted to be furious with her, but her expression quickly evaporated all of his anger.  Willow was laughing, really laughing--the genuine kind that came from deep inside, perhaps from her soul itself--not a polite chuckle or an embarrassed giggle that was forced from the throat.  He could see it in her eyes as they glimmered brightly with the simple joy of being alive.  He hadn't seen her like this in a very long time.  He wondered if he ever had.

The vampire couldn't stop the smile that crept on to his face.  Her apparent happiness was contagious.

"Now, that wasn't very nice, love, was it?"

Willow offered only a mild struggle against his hold on her, and she lifted her head again for a quick nibble on his jaw.

"I can't believe how gullible you are, Spike," she murmured against his skin.  "Or that you really thought I would fall apart after a night with you."

Spike's eyes half-closed in pleasure as she scraped her teeth over the scar.  "I've never been so bloody relieved to be wrong in my whole life, Red."

Willow lay back down to look at him for a moment.  "To be honest, I actually woke up a little earlier than you realized," she started innocently.  "I was waiting to see what your reaction was going to be.  I, well, I half-expected you to be long gone, but then I heard your bad attempt at a fake cough, and all your mumbling, and, well, I couldn't help myself."

Spike almost looked hurt...almost.  "You thought it was going to be 'wham, bam thank you, ma'am'?"

"Well, I was thinking more along the lines of 'grope, bite, let's do this again sometime next century, Red'."

Spike slowly slid their clasped hands from next to her head to further up the bed.  At the same time, bringing his face closer to hers.

"You're going to have trouble getting rid of me now, Willow."

Willow had to bite her lip to keep from smiling.  "Really?"

"Of course," he teased, taking over the biting of her lower lip.  "This place is a damn sight better than mine," he went on, now focusing his attention on her collarbone.  "You must have a few servants running around to keep it up.  A bloke like me could get used to having a maid around to tidy up after him.  Vampires weren't meant to wash their own clothes, you know.  That's what we have minions for."

Willow's head arched back into the pillows, and she wriggled beneath him, trying unsuccessfully to free herself from his grip so she could touch him.

"Is that the only reason you want to stay?  So you can kiss your pesky ring-around-the collar problems good-bye?" Willow asked coyly, having to satisfy herself with running her bare foot up the back of his calf.

Spike tried to ignore the sensation of her naked flesh teasing his, but it wasn't easy.  "That's not the only reason, Red," Spike replied with a sultry smile before dipping his head to nibble beneath her ear.  "I've never been very good at getting blood stains out of my clothes either."

"Well, if that was the only reason you wanted to stay," she said calmly, playing along, "you might as well go now.  I've no live-in servants.  Of course, if you want to save some money, you're free to move into the room across the hall and have your own bed...if that's what you want.  It hardly gets any sun at all."

At her words, Spike looked up from her neck to stare into her fiery eyes.  "I'll take that room across the hall and my own bed," he told her flatly.  Seeing the disappointment in her eyes that he was hoping for, he continued huskily, "but you'll be in it.  It's where you belong."

Before Willow could form a word, the vampire released her wrists and rolled on to his side, taking her with him.  He grasped her face softly between his hands and kissed her, chastely at first, as if he were afraid she would shatter under his touch, then letting it peak slowly until Willow was sure that her toes were curling.

When she pulled away to refill her lungs, he began playing with her auburn tresses.  He just couldn't seem to stop touching her.

"I can't believe how much time we've wasted when we could've been doing this for the last 100 years," Spike groaned softly, seemingly mesmerized by the feel of her soft hair between his fingers.

"I don't think so, Spike," Willow replied when she'd caught her breath.  She slid a leg intimately between his and smiled at the moan she received in return.  "I think I needed the full century before I could face sleeping with the devil."

"I'm not the devil, love, but flattery will get you everywhere."  Spike's ravenous eyes slowly raked over her body, his hands and mouth following more slowly.

Willow sighed in contentment.  They were in no hurry and happy to battle with words while they languidly discovered each other's bodies, like they had all the time in the world.

"Well, I still feel it's a bloody shame..." he murmured against her breast a little while later.

Willow smirked.  "No, it's much better this way.  Otherwise, you know what would happen..."

Reluctantly, Spike ceased his mouth's ministrations to her sensitive flesh, sensing another one of Willow's 'discussions' coming up.  He moved up to lie next to her on the pillow.

"No, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me whether I want to hear it or not."

"It's inevitable," she teased.  "You'd fall madly in love with me, and then I'd have to share you with Drusilla, and I'm not good at the whole chick-fighting thing, so--"

Spike silenced her with a punishing kiss.  "Let's do each other a little favor, shall we?" he growled as he slid a knee between her legs, parting them.  "If you won't mention Dru, I won't mention Jo-Jo the dog-faced boy, all right?"

"Spike..." she answered in a warning tone, "his name is Oz."  An evil glint appeared in his eyes that caused an aching in her belly.

"Whatever, Red.  Do we have a deal?"

"Yes...deal..." she moaned, and thoughts of making Spike pay for insulting Oz quickly fluttered away at the sensation of his cool hand moving down to her thigh.

Spike's teasing was relentless, both verbally and physically.  "Now, don't you wish we had been doing this instead of arguing all this time?"

"Yesss...." she hissed.  However, one nagging thought wouldn't let her surrender herself to pleasure.  Not yet, anyway.  "Wait... no...I mean 'no', Spike," she stated firmly.

Spike drew his eyebrows together in irritated confusion, unconsciously clenching his jaw and pursing his lips at the same time.  "And why not?"

Seeing her favorite expression on the blonde vampire, Willow almost forgot about what she was going to say, wanting instead to kiss every tightened muscle in his beautiful face.  But this had to be said, and better sooner than later.

Willow took a deep breath and let it out slowly before she spoke.  "Because I couldn't have done this..." she said, indicating them and the bed, "before...not without being in love."

Spike didn't move, waiting for the inevitable Willow-speak to follow where she would try to babble her way out of the words she'd just uttered, usually only embarrassing herself further.  It never came.

As she saw his confusion give way to her least favorite expression--that of complete, unreadable blankness--Willow shook her head.  "Why are you looking at me like that, Spike?  I'm not in love with you."  She paused, looking for a reaction in him, but he didn't even blink.  "And you're not in love with me either," she continued matter of factly.

Spike pulled back a little further to see if she was playing some sort of mind game, but he saw no deceit in her eyes, only desire.  He thought for a moment.  "No.  I'm not."  It was his turn to pause and look for the inevitable hurt in her eyes, but it wasn't there.

"You still love, Drusilla." Thinking that she was about to be scolded for mentioning the vampiress's name, Willow hurried on.  "Now, I know you don't want me to talk about her, and I promise I won't once I finish what I have to say.  I mean, she's why we're here, after all--because your love for Drusilla is so strong that you would break heaven and earth to have her back, and also because my love for my friends is so strong that I agreed, sort of, to this insane plan."

Spike felt a pang of guilt at the mention of his Dark Goddess's name, and he had trouble pushing it away like he had so many times before.  "Willow, I--"

Willow noticed his pain as well.  "Shhh..." she murmured before silencing him with a soft kiss.  "I know you still love her, Spike.  I'd be disappointed in you if you didn't.  It's really very romantic...in a bizarre, hellmouthy sorta way."  Her smile faded as she caressed the scar she'd given him.  "But, I want you to know that I would do anything for you.  You're as important to me now as Buffy or Xander...even Oz," she added softly.  "I'll do whatever it takes to get Drusilla back for you, whether that means sucking more stakes out of your back or hiding in this house for the next hundred years.  Believe it or not, for some stupid reason, more than anything, I want you to be happy."

In a move so fast that it left Willow dizzy, Spike flipped her over, straddling her hips.  "Drusilla's my future, Willow.  You and I have five more years before she even moves to London, let alone is turned.  I don't plan on wasting them the way I have the last century.  Right now, all I bloody well want is you, my wife."

Spike's eyes burned into Willow's, sparking a fire that they both doubted would die out in five years.  They found themselves at a loss for words.

Eventually, Spike broke the spell.  "Well, Red, since we both agree that we won't be giving each other little bloody candies that say 'I heart you' next February 14th, are we done talking?"

"Geez Spike," Willow giggled, "if I didn't know you better, I'd think you were disappointed that I haven't fallen in love with you.  Maybe you were hoping I'd mope over you until the day I die?" she teased.

The sinister smile that enveloped Spike's lips as they hovered above hers, made Willow giddy with desire.  Before she gave herself over to it, she heard him say, "Until the day you die, and then some, Red."

*****

This time, Willow watched Spike sleep for an hour or so before feeling the need to be alone.  She pulled on her nightgown and quickly padded down the stairs.  After starting a small fire in the parlor, she picked up her guitar and softly strummed it.  Willow had a nagging need to lose herself in her music for a while because no matter how strong and mature she wanted Spike to think she was, it was still a little overwhelming to be sharing a bed with him after all of those years.  She had fought her desire for him for so long, that in some ways she was disappointed with herself.  It wasn't that she felt guilty for betraying Oz because one hundred years was a very long time to try and stay faithful to someone that there was no guarantee you'd ever see again.  She missed Oz, as well as her other friends and family, but she couldn't put herself on hold forever.  She only hoped when she saw them again, that they would all understand and things would quickly get back to normal.  Obviously, her sleeping with Spike was only going to make things harder in the long run.  However, when she remembered the feel of his mouth on her body and the sensations his hands had evoked in her that she didn't even know existed, she didn't care how difficult it would get later on down the road.  Willow wanted to feel this way for the next five years and would deal with the aftermath when the time came.  Besides, she'd spoken the truth.  She didn't love him, not in the romantic sense anyway, but she did love being with him.  In spite of everything, he made her happy, and she hoped that in some strange way she made him happy too.

Lost in her thoughts, her fingers had begun a song on their own.  Sometime later, Willow was actually surprised to realize what song she'd been absentmindedly strumming.  She hadn't played it in years, maybe even decades, but she could still remember the first time she'd heard it.

The sky had been so clear that night, the stars that hung above her had twinkled so brightly that she'd felt as if she could reach up and pluck them like apples.  Willow had lain on her back for hours, watching them, when she'd noticed that the music around her had changed.  The rapid rhythms and laughing voices had quieted down as soulful melodies filled the air.  The music had been so powerful and moving that tears had been streaming down her face, even though she didn't understand the words.  That night she'd promised herself that one-day she'd play that song.

Willow smiled softly to herself, quietly humming the folk song, even though she now knew how to speak its language fluently.  Maybe she couldn't play the intricate song as well as her teachers did that night as they sat around the fire, sipping their wine, but Willow knew she wasn't half bad.

***

When the vampire had awakened to an empty bed, he immediately thought that his Willow was up to another one of her tricks.  His lips curved into a smile.  Spike loved to play games, and Willow just seemed to be full of surprises.  Then he heard the soft strains of music wafting up the stairs from below, and he was even more puzzled.  Spike pulled on his trousers and crept down the stairs to investigate.  His rarely used-breath caught in his throat when he saw her.  His lover's bare feet were up on the sofa, and her hair was strewn about her shoulders in a way that only partially hid his newest marks.  Willow's delicate hands that, only a few hours ago were giving him such pleasure, were now holding a guitar in a similarly intimate manner.  He watched for a while, fascinated by the melancholy sounds she was creating.  Finally he reached a point where his body wouldn't allow him to remain at such a distance from her any longer.

"I take it all back, Red.  You're definitely a woman of mystery."

Willow looked up from her music to see him lounging in the archway, and the sight of him half-dressed and sleep-rumpled made her heart race.

"I hope I didn't wake you," she said honestly.

Shaking his head no, Spike sauntered toward the red-haired musician.  As he went to sit beside her on the deep golden velvet sofa, he took note of the room.  One wall was all bookcases, filled to overflowing with texts of various sizes.  An enormous writing desk that was partially obscured by scattered papers occupied a nearby corner, and much to his surprise, in the opposite corner was a rare commodity for that time--a piano.  The remainder of the space was filled with a couple of reading chairs, lamps, the usual, but all obviously expensive and of magnificent quality.  <How the bloody hell did she come by this place?  That piano alone must be worth a king's ransom...>

After taking a seat, Spike leaned back against the arm of the sofa, opposite from Willow.

"Now, are you finally going to tell me what you've been up to?" he asked, bringing his bare feet up on the luxurious material and sliding them between hers.

Fighting a sudden odd urge to play footsie with the notorious vampire, Willow grinned sheepishly.  "Well, you told me to get a hobby, and this is it.  I've always wanted to learn how to play, but I never had enough time, until now.  Plus, I figure it'll give me something in common with Oz when I get back."

His eyes narrowed at the mention of Oz's name.  "I'd been thinking more along the lines of needlepoint when I suggested it, love," he said a little more coolly than he intended.  "How'd you learn to play so well?"

"Oh, some very talented and patient teachers and a lot of spare time."

Spike considered her words for a moment.  It was obvious that she still wasn't ready to tell him everything, but that was okay.  He'd have five years to find out the truth, and he looked forward to trying various means of extracting it from his newly enigmatic companion.

"Can you at least tell me what that sad song you were playing is about?"

Willow looked at him, biting her lip playfully.  "Well, I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

Spike laughed in spite of himself.  "Since I'm already dead, love, there shouldn't be anything stopping you for telling me everything you know."

"Well, the lyrics are in a different language, but basically it's a tale of a boy and girl who are best friends, but are torn away from each other because of feuding families.  Years later, they see each other again, but both are to be wed to others, and they're now sworn enemies."

Spike snickered.  "Sounds like a load of romantic tripe to me, love.  Let me guess," he said, leaning over to take the guitar out of her arms.  "There's a horrible fight of some sort, and their partners-to-be die tragically."  He strummed an awkward chord, causing him to purse his lips in frustration.  "Am I right so far?" he asked without looking up from the strings.

Willow smiled.  She didn't know he even played the guitar.  "Yes, that's about the gist of it so far."

The vampire managed a couple of chords, trying to familiarize himself with the instrument that he hadn't touched since the 1980's.

"And then," he said, producing a few minor chords for drama, "the star-crossed lovers find each other again, solve all the world's problems by showing the families how very terribly wrong killing is, and then they make beautiful love as the sun sets in the west..."

The redhead took her guitar back, and played a few sad strains while she spoke.  "Not exactly.  There *is* a war and their new loves *do* die, but the two old friends hold each other responsible for their lovers' deaths.  They blame each other and never get over it, vowing that they never want to see the other again.  Years later, she dies of a broken heart, and he kills himself."

Spike's eyes widened in surprise.  "Nice story," he snorted.  They were silent for a moment while Willow finished the last few strains, then Spike spoke up again.  "But I bet they meet again in another life, or something equally nauseating, and live happily ever after!" he announced triumphantly.

Willow simply shook her head. "Nope.  They both just die.  End of story."

Spike grunted in surprise and looked around the room again.  "Well, that's pretty bloody depressing, Red, so why don't you cheer me up and tell me how you managed to get this massive roof over our head?"

"I'm just renting it...house-sitting, really.  The owners apparently have several homes all across Europe and won't need this one for a while.  You should've seen the solicitor's face when I asked if I could pay for the whole year up front, and that I'd likely need it for five years all together!"

"Surprised you didn't give him a heart attack.  Even now the lawyers are bloody money-hungry sods, and they call vampires blood suckers!" Spike snickered, causing Willow to roll her eyes once again at his bad pun.  "But, how can you afford it?"

Willow smiled mischievously.  "Let's just say I was very frugal during our years apart.  I even managed to make a little money as well,. Actually, I still have a considerable amount of the money that you *loaned* me left."

"More secrets?"  Spike slid closer, took the guitar out of her arms, and placed it carefully on the floor before lifting her onto his lap.  "What about men, my wife?  Did you fancy any of those Italians?" he whispered against her cheek as his hand caressed her thigh.

Willow shuddered beneath his touch and struggled to concentrate on the right words.  "No.  I--I thought about it a couple of times, but it just wouldn't work.  Some guys tried, but I just couldn't get involved.  I figured I have enough men in my life already...Oz, Xander, even Angelus in a bizarre way...and you."

"But only one that matters right now, love," he reminded her, barely brushing his lips across hers.  Spike found himself strangely relieved to know that she hadn't been with any other men since her last abrupt departure.

Willow touched his cheek with a shaky hand.  "What about you, Spike?"

For a moment he vacillated between telling her the truth or lying, but he decided on the truth.  In the long run, it would be easier.  "I can't say I've been quite as well behaved," he began casually.  "There were a few women, but not many--mostly other vampires that I knew weren't connected to Angelus in anyway.  Sometimes for a night, sometimes for a week.  I staked the stupidest ones and just walked away from the others.  I'd forgotten how incredibly dull and simple the average vampire is...especially the women since they aren't usually chosen for their brains."

While he was talking, Willow moved one finger slowly over his chest.  "Spike, you don't have to explain.  You're a male and you're a demon.  The two hardly add up to a life of chastity, do they?"

Spike shook his head slowly in amazement at the women in his arms.  "So you lived here in this huge house, all alone, having had no male contact until last night?"

"I wouldn't quite say that.  Remember, I haven't been in this house for long, and besides, I'm not all alone..."  She whimpered as Spike began licking at the fading remains of the puncture wounds he'd left on her throat.  "A lady comes in three times a week to help with the...house...food...and--"

Spike cut her off with a searing kiss, letting her know that in his opinion they had talked enough.  He had other things in mind for how they were to wile away the morning hours.  With a low growl, Spike stood with her in his arms, intending take her back upstairs.

"Uh, Willow?" he asked, almost as an afterthought, "when exactly does your help come in?"

She found it difficult to think clearly since all she had on her mind was getting her hands on his naked body.  "Um, three days a week...Mondays, Wednesdays, and..."

Just then, the front door opened, and a large, middle-aged woman came bustling in.

"...Fridays," Willow ended despairingly.

At the sight of her employer in the arms of a half-naked man, the older woman screamed in surprise and dropped her umbrella and bag.  "Oh, beggin' yer pardon, Mum," she said as she began to flush bright red.  "Please, Mum, I'm ever so sorry.  I'd no idea that you were, well...Oh, please, lady, I beg yer pardon," she stammered, forcing her gaze to the floor.

Willow sighed and rolled her eyes in frustration at Spike, who was not only enjoying the older woman's distress and Willow's embarrassment, but had yet to set her down.

"Spike, please, put me down," she whispered in his ear.

He reluctantly placed her on her feet, but not without pinching her bottom as he did so.

Willow shot him a dirty look before turning her attention to their flustered guest.  "Mrs. Andrews, um, it's okay, really.  This is just my, er...brother--"

"Cousin," Spike interjected at the same time, not that he thought the servant would buy it for a second.

The older English woman looked up from the floor to cast a skeptical eye on the couple.  "Of course, Mum.  'Tis no business of mine, anyway."

Willow felt like smacking the smirk off of Spike's face, or licking it off, she couldn't quite decide.  "Mrs. Andrews, this is William.  He's a dear old friend of mine--"

"Very old," Spike added, unable to help himself.

"I've known him almost my whole life," she continued.

"And then some!" he joked, dodging the elbow that Willow thrust in his direction.

Willow hung her head for a second in defeat, then took a deep breath.  "He's my lover, Mrs. Andrews," she stated firmly, surprising the vampire next to her.  Willow looked up at him as she finished.  "And I think he'll probably be staying here, with me, for a while."  It was more of a question than a statement, and Spike's eyes flashed a hungry amber in answer.

"Beggin' yer pardon, Mum," the maid said, trying to hide the blush in her cheeks at the young people's frank display of desire.  "But ya don't need to go explainin' yerself to me.  Yer a young widow, out of yer period of mourning.  You've already known enough loss in yer short life, and I'm not one who believes that a woman necessarily needs to be wearin' a gentleman's wedding ring before he can make her happy."

It was Willow's turn to be shocked.  "Thank you, Mrs. Andrews.  I appreciate your understanding and decorum in this matter."

"No need to be thankin' me, childe," she said brightly.  "Life's short.  We must find our happiness wherever it lies.  Me third husband taught me that," she added with a wink.

Spike scooped the redhead back into his arms, causing Willow to shriek in delight.  "Well, now that we have Mary Poppins' approval, let's get back to where we were..."

Willow giggled in spite of herself as Spike nipped her quickly on the neck.  He swept past the woman on his way to the staircase, but the redhead tapped on his shoulder, asking him to wait.

"Mrs. Poppins...I mean, Mrs. Andrews...why don't you take the day off, with pay, and I'll see you on Monday," she offered over Spike's naked shoulder.  She desperately wanted to have a little taste of his enticing skin but behaved.

The woman smiled knowingly and grabbed her umbrella and carpetbag.  "Thank you, Mum.  You have a good day, too, Mum.  Oh, and Sir?"

Spike turned to look at her in surprise while still cradling Willow close in his arms.

"If ya don't mind me askin', would ya try and get her to eat a little sumthin'.  She looks even paler than usual today, Sir."

Willow held her breath, waiting for some smart-ass comment from the vampire, but he surprised her yet again.

"Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Andrews.  I'll see to it that we are both well fed in your absence," he informed her in all seriousness.  Spike then turned and continued carrying Willow back up the steps.

"Good-bye, Mrs. Andrews," Willow offered unabashedly over Spike's shoulder, unable to keep the smile from her face.

"Good day, Mum," the woman returned with a wistful smile and a small curtsy--even though Willow had told her weeks before that there was no need for such formality.  She left, closing and locking the door behind her.

"Spike," Willow whispered against his lips when she heard the door close behind the woman, "you mentioned something last night about having a few creative ways of giving us what we need?"

"I think I recall something like that," Spike said as he kicked the bedroom door closed behind him.

"Show me all of them, Spike."

In response, the vampire tossed her on to the enormous bed, pausing at the foot of it to watch her with lust-laden eyes.  Finally, just when Willow thought she would have to look away in embarrassment, he began crawling slowly up the length of her bed.

Willow watched him move with a sensual cat-like grace, the muscles in his arms and chest rippling with each deliberate movement.  She held her breath when he reached her legs and paused in his predatorial approach to run an appreciative hand up her silky calf.  She couldn't tear her eyes away from his face.  Willow was fascinated as his jaw clenched in a concerted effort to maintain his control as his gaze traveled along her bare skin.

As his hand moved higher, pushing the nightgown over her knees and sliding it smoothly up her thighs, she saw something in his face. She wasn't sure if she'd seen it before, but it was definitely there--under the desire, under the tough-guy exterior.  Maybe she'd never noticed it because he simply wasn't capable of it earlier, but it was obvious to her now.  Spike was actually happy--not just putting up with her to simply pass time--but genuinely happy, and she'd made him that way.  The realization that she could make a man--and a vampire, no less--that content, multiplied her need to touch and please him.  And while his lean body may have hovered only inches above her, the way Willow was feeling, it might as well have been the Grand Canyon that separated them.

His voice was as dangerous as his eyes when he spoke.  "You want me to show you all of them?" he finally asked.  "Well, that should keep us busy for the first two years, Red, but after that, we might have to start repeating ourselves."  An anticipatory grin slowly formed on his face.

"Only two years?" she sighed as she wrapped her arms and legs about him, pulling him down to her.  "Then obviously you haven't done enough research."
 

~Chapter Twenty-nine~

"How did you learn so much about the stars?"  Spike asked, trying to look at the sky and watch where he was walking at the same time.  It was a rare, clear night in London.  The weather conditions had kept the normal fog from blanketing the land the past couple of nights.  As a result Willow had insisted that they go for a walk together shortly after nightfall.

"I read a lot.  When you have a lot of time to read, well, you end up with a head full of fascinating but useless information."  Willow felt a little ache at her words.  She didn't like lying to Spike, and while she wasn't really lying, she wasn't telling him the full truth either.  She'd explain everything to him in time, but for now, she had to keep up her role as a woman of mystery.

When they reached a part of the street that was darker and had a good view of the sky, Willow put a hand on Spike's shoulder to stop him.  Pointing up to a small gathering of stars in the east, she smiled as fond memories of countless nights spent sleeping under the stars came to mind.

"Some, um, nomadic tribes call that one The Watcher, believe it or not.  If you look carefully," she told him as she tried to paint a picture in the sky with a finger, "you can see kind of an outline of a face.  Now, see how it looks as if it is facing west?  It's watching for the evil that comes with the setting of the sun, apparently--ever vigilant against the forces of darkness."

As Willow quickly recounted the story, her other hand remained on his arm.  They were so comfortable with each other now that it was quite common for them to be touching whenever they were together.  Spike, she'd learned, was a very tactile vamp.  When he wasn't trying to control himself, his hands would be caressing her bare skin or playing with her hair.  Willow was much the same.  Having so long been denied the basic human pleasures of touch and affection, she found it hard to stay away from him.  They were like children on Christmas morning playing with their new toys.

After their first night together, Spike had never really left.  Slowly, his things ended up in her home, his clothes hanging in the wardrobes; his arms holding her during the hours they slept.  It happened so naturally that they never gave it much thought.  Their relationship had grown to more than convenience, but it wasn't love.  After all, Spike had--or would soon have again--Drusilla, and Willow had....

That was a good question and one that Willow puzzled over on the rare occasions that she let herself think about the future in that way.  She knew she had Oz to come home to, and Willow was thankful for that.  In fact, she couldn't wait to see his face when it appeared as if she'd learned how to play the guitar overnight!  However, in the back of her mind there was always Angelus, and it irked her to no end that she couldn't forget about the Irishman.  Partially out of embarrassment but also because she doubted he would really understand, Willow never mentioned her confusion to Spike.  Instead, she scolded herself for her own immaturity and forced her thoughts back to her future with Oz.  In the end, Spike would have his Drusilla, Willow would have Oz, and all would be right with the world.

Nevertheless, even though they both knew their futures held different paths and they both knew that the other realized this as well, the subject was never brought up again after that first night.  Instead of talking about it, they would occasionally sleep alone--Spike taking over a room on the other side of the hall that received little light, while Willow tossed and turned in hers.  It didn't happen very often, but a few times she'd gone to bed in her own room, and he didn't join her.  Sometimes it was the other way around since they actually spent more time in his darker room than in hers.  The days, or nights, that they woke up alone were also never really discussed.  They both knew why they did it.  They were simply weak attempts at proving that they didn't need each other.

Despite the occasional long and lonely night, the time passed quickly--more quickly than it did before--and she was content.  Yes, life was pretty good for Willow, except for the dreams.

The dreams had started the day after her first night with Spike, and she had them almost every time she'd slept since--day or night, alone or in his arms.  The dreams were often about her and Spike getting carried away in their lovemaking, one way or another, and the consequences that followed.  They usually weren't terrifying, but they were always disturbing, and she often awoke with an impending sense of doom.  Her rarer dreams, the ones of Angelus, were another matter entirely.  Those horrifying nightmares usually bolted her awake, screaming or crying.  Even the less violent ones, which in many ways were even more disquieting, at the very least made her blood run cold.  Nevertheless, tonight as she walked beneath familiar starry skies, it was easy to push aside the vague feelings of unease and completely relax.

Spike smiled down at her upturned face, ready to tell her that she was the most intelligent woman that he'd every known, when something caught his eye.  He found himself doing a double take to look at a group of people that were walking in his direction on the footpath.

It took Willow a moment before she realized that Spike was no longer looking at the sky.  He was staring off into the distance, his face a study in utter bewilderment.  When she could pull her eyes away from his enraptured face to follow his line of sight, she was still confused as to what could have him so perturbed.

Walking slowly toward them was a group of women and children.  By their dress, Willow guessed that they had just come from mass.  The two women spoke fervently back and forth, while several younger children giggled and played as they shuffled along behind them.  <Nothing unusual there...> Willow commented to herself.  <So, what's the problem?>  That was when she saw her...the tall, slender girl in the background, walking with her head down, clutching her bible in front of her with one hand and her rosaries with the other.  It was Drusilla.  A younger Drusilla, in her early teens at most, but there was no mistaking her.  Willow could see that her lips were moving, and the redhead assumed that she was saying her rosaries.  The future vampiress walked as if she were afraid to be noticed or that if she diverted her attention for even one moment from her prayers, God would strike her down.  Drusilla was a study in devotion and penance.

Willow turned her attention back to Spike to find his pale face contorted with conflicting emotions.  She squeezed his arm gently, offering a few soft-spoken words of additional support.  "Careful Spike, you--"

Before she could finish, the vampire ripped his arm out of her delicate grasp and took a step closer to Dru as she continued to approach them unawares.  The other women and children were too caught up in their conversations and gossip to pay any mind to the strange man staring unabashedly at the quiet girl that followed a bit behind, and they passed Willow and Spike with nary a glance.  The young Drusilla almost seemed to be in a trance-like state.  Willow doubted that she would even notice them, so caught up in her prayers and thoughts was she.  Then, just as the dark-haired girl came level to the time travelers, close enough that they could touch, Drusilla's eyes rose and found Spike's.

In Willow's romantic mind, she waited to see some precognitive spark in the girl's haunted eyes.  Instead there was only shyness and confusion in the brunette when she met Spike's needful gaze.  How Spike managed to stay in control, Willow didn't know.  In the instant that the future lovers' eyes had locked, the redhead saw hope burst into life in the vampire's face, only to be extinguished just as quickly when Drusilla moved by without even a flash of recognition.  Spike turned to watch Drusilla pass, his face a mask of pain and confusion.  Once again Willow stretched out a comforting hand, but Spike quickly fell beyond her reach as he began to follow the small group.

Willow dashed forward, grabbing Spike by the arm.  "Spike, you can't...not yet!  She's too
young--"

Spike whirled around on her, grabbing her outstretched arm angrily.  "Don't you bloody-well tell me what to do where Dru is concerned!  This is none of your business!" he lashed out violently, pushing her away.

Willow barely managed to stay on her feet as she stumbled backwards, watching as Spike turned around and rushed to follow Drusilla.  As romantic as it all was, Willow would not allow that child to be turned.  Spike was just confused and couldn't see straight.

"Not while I'm still breathing..." Willow muttered under her breath as she set herself in motion.  Running full speed in her high-laced boots, she quickly caught up with Spike, who was trying to reach Dru before she disappeared down the dim streets.  Thankful that no one was about at the moment to see her unlady-like display, the redhead threw herself at Spike with all the energy her petite frame could muster, concentrating on the back of his knees.

The unsuspecting vampire was propelled forward by her weight.  They toppled to the ground in a heap, Spike recovering only enough to let his hands take the weight of his fall.

"You'll regret this, Spike.  I can't let you turn her yet.  She's too young.  She isn't your Dru!"  Willow explained breathlessly, ignoring the string of obscenities that flew past his lips.

As Spike struggled to get out from under her weight and watch Drusilla at the same time, he was enraged even further to find that his view of her departing form was blocked from the ground.  Between him and his beloved there were shrubs, lampposts, and even benches.  "God dammit, if you don't get the bloody hell off of me right now I'll--"

Suddenly his view was completely blocked by a pair of dark trousers above some very large feet.

"What seems to be the trouble, Miss?" a deep, commanding baritone voice boomed from above him.  "Is this man bothering you?"

Willow was as surprised as Spike by the sudden appearance of the bobby, but knowing that she wouldn't be able to restrain Spike on her own, she turned on her charm.

"Oh, thank heaven you're here, kind officer," Willow wailed over-dramatically as he helped her to her feet.  "This gentleman, and I use the term loosely, stopped me just a moment ago and whispered awful things to me.  I thought I would swoon, he was so crude!"  Willow could see over Spike's shoulder that Drusilla's group had hailed a carriage.  She needed to distract Spike only a few minutes longer, and they would be out of sight.

"Willow...this isn't funny..." Spike growled softly, for the moment preoccupied, but she ignored him.

"I was just walking home from mass," Willow continued in her best upper-class British accent and slyly pulling out her cross, "when a man came out of nowhere, grabbed me, and started whispering vulgarities at me.  I did not see his face, but I am sure it was him!"

As quite a crowd was now gathering, Spike had enough sense not to vamp out and kill the lawman.  Instead, he tried to twist around to see his beloved Drusilla, but the expanding throng of onlookers now blocked his view.

"Did you get a good look at the bloke, Miss?  Are you sure it was 'im?" the large, uniformed man inquired as he grabbed Spike by the collar of his coat.

<Just another minute, Willow...keep him busy another minute and she'll be gone.>  "I didn't get a good look at his face, but when I came to my senses, this gentleman was there.  Somehow I must have fainted or something since I came to on the ground on top of him.  But, I will never forget that rogue's voice if I live to be a 100!" she exclaimed, placing a shaking hand to her chest.

"You 'eard the lady.  Say something to her...and make it something proper or I will 'ave your arse in jail so fast you'll wish ya were dead!" the officer of the law instructed.  He hastily added, "Beggin' yer pardon miss," for his harsh choice of words.

Willow smiled her understanding to the older man.  Unfortunately, Spike was too incensed to see the humor in the conversation going on around him.  He tried to think clearly for a moment while still twisting to see Drusilla, but the bobby poked him with his nightstick, demanding attention.

He reluctantly turned to Willow and fixed her with an icy stare.  "Lady, you've mistaken me for someone else, because we do *not* know each other...never have, never will."

Willow's forehead crinkled momentarily at the bitterness to his voice, but she pushed on with the charade anyway.

The bobby tapped his foot impatiently.  "So, madam, is this the man?  Should I take 'im in?"

Willow shook her head.  "I am afraid that I am still not sure.  Could you make him say..." Willow trailed off, lowering her head and acting as demur and proper as she could.  "I'm sorry, but I couldn't possibly say it aloud..."

The kindly bobby nodded in sympathy and leaned forward.  "Just whisper it to me then, young Miss.  It will be all right.  I 'ave 'eard it all, believe me."

Willow smiled shyly and whispered in his ear.  The bobby's eyes opened in surprise, and he leaned back to take a closer look at the two young-looking people.

"Are you sure that's what 'e said?"

She nodded her head fervently.  "That is what the man said, but I will not know if it was this man until I hear him say the words."

The officer leaned forward and whispered in Spike's ear, ignoring the interested crowds attempt to also hear his quiet words.

Spike shook his head, the grim look on his face only increasing.  He met Willow's twinkling eyes with cold ones of his own, making sure she knew that he did not find this amusing.  He said the words carefully, wanting this over with so he could find his Dark Godde