Willow woke up to a familiar throbbing in her lower back and a warm trickle between her legs. She tried to sit up, but there was something holding her down. Spike was fast asleep, his face resting against her thigh.

"Spike," Willow whispered. She leaned down and tapped his shoulder.

He opened his eyes and looked up at her blearily. "Willow?"

"I need you to get off me," she explained. "I have to get up."

He rolled onto his side. "What’s the matter?"

"Nothing," she said hurriedly. She crossed her legs and sat up slowly, hoping that she hadn’t leaked blood on Giles’ sheets. Her head throbbed, the world tilting. "Oh, God." She cupped her head in her hands, trying to make it stop. "I think- I think I’m still drunk."

"Want me to fetch you something for your head?" he offered.

She took shallow breaths, trying not to puke from spinning and the throbbing onslaught of her cramps. "Can you get me my backpack and some aspirin, please?"

Spike got out of bed quickly, rushing downstairs and locking the bathroom door. "Too close," he whispered, as he brought two bloody fingers to his mouth. He sucked voraciously, and the taste burst across his tongue. Not just blood, witch’s blood, musky with the taste of sex and magick. His body surged with arousal, his cock hardening in seconds. After licking every trace of her blood from his hand, his body hummed with hunger.

He had to have more. She’d never let him, willingly, but he just had to have it. Damn chip, complicating every sodding thing. He opened the medicine cabinet and rummaged through the Watcher’s pills, looking for something that would knock her out. Finding some muscle relaxers, he shook two into his hand. In the kitchen, he poured a glass of cold water, grabbed Willow’s backpack from the living room, and made his way back to the object of his desire.

Willow was lying against the pillows, her arm thrown over her face. Spike slid into bed next to her. "Here you are, pet," he said soothingly, sliding his arm under her neck and tilting her torso so she could drink the water and take the pills.

"That’s so much better," she said, as he set down the glass on the bedside table and turned back to her.

Spike put an arm around her waist and leaned his face in to the back of her neck. Need flared through him as he smelled her luscious scent, with the seductive undercurrent of her rich, pungent blood.

"I have to get up," she said sleepily. "I don’t want to stain the sheets."

"Don’t you worry a bit, Wicca," Spike whispered in her ear. "Let Spike take care of everything."

Within minutes, her breathing evened out, and Spike turned her to face him. She was deeply asleep, her head tilting back, revealing her long, pale neck. Spike leaned forward and traced his tongue across her skin, trailing down her neck to her shoulder, and she didn’t react.

Spike slid down the bed and took off her panties, then lifted her hips and slid his tongue inside her. Gently he sucked her blood, glorying in her aroma and essence. He was fiercely aroused, his body screaming to fuck her and bite her, drink the sweet arterial blood he could hear surging through her.

Willow didn’t move at all, only the beating of her heart indicating she was alive. He wanted to hear her react to him, see her rouse to passion underneath his hands. Taking her now would be so easy; she’d never know the difference. His need for her would be quenched for the moment, his raging desire appeased. But he wanted her to want him; he knew he could make her crave him, the way that he craved her.

Spike drew a hand across her stomach, captivated by her smooth skin. Her camisole twisted underneath her breasts. Pulling down one of the straps, he slid it down her arm until one small breast was revealed. He leaned forward and sucked on her nipple, stroking his cock with his hand.

"Nice," Willow said sleepily. "Don’t stop." Spike bent his head and suckled her more, and she made little gasping noises that made his arousal burn even brighter.

He felt Willow’s hand slide across his thigh, closing around his erection. She stroked him and he licked her breasts, his mouth sliding up to lick and bite her neck. She shuddered underneath him, her strokes faster and faster on his hard length. "Take me," Willow whispered. "I want you so much."

Elated, Spike slipped inside her body. He stroked in and out, and she was smooth and lush and tight around him, and soon he was coming. She bit his shoulder with sharp little teeth as she came with a shudder, and he vamped out, his demon stoked by the sensory paradise of musk, blood, and her ardor for him. He rested his forehead against hers as his release went on and on, intense as shards of glass.

He was panting hard as he realized that her eyes were open, staring straight into his. "My sweet girl," he whispered.

"Yellow eyes," she said sleepily. "Thanks for not eating me, Oz." Stunned, Spike jerked out of her body and rolled off of her.

She was fast asleep again in seconds. Spike licked her thighs clean of blood and semen and cleaned himself off as well with his rumpled t-shirt. He should have been thrilled, lulled by sex and sweet human blood. Instead, he was annoyed and aggravated. She didn’t want him; she wanted Oz. And why should he care, who this dizzy little Wicca wanted?

*****

Spike woke up alone in the large wooden bed. He helped himself to Giles’ dressing gown and went downstairs. In the kitchen, he poured himself a mug of blood and set it in the microwave to warm. He drank it, put some coffee on, and was rustling through the cabinets when the sound of the pipes rattling in the walls attracted his attention. Willow walked out of the bathroom wearing a towel, her hair wet.

He followed Willow to the living room, watching her bend over to sort through her backpack. Spike leaned forward to appreciate the view, the round globes of her ass bared as she picked up a blue zippered pouch. "Want some coffee?" Willow shrieked and dropped the pouch, the contents scattering across the floor. "Christ, you're jumpy," he remarked, bending down to help her gather up her things.

She shooed him away, waving her hands in the air. "Go away, go away!"

Spike looked at her, perplexed. "Are you daft? What the hell is the matter with you?"

"Go!" she said, looking down at the floor. Her hand was clenched to the top of her towel, holding it closed.

"What, all this fuss because I see you in a towel? You're covered from knees to neck, pet; not much to see."

She looked up, her face flushed. "Just go back to the kitchen. I'd really, really love some coffee, ok?"

"Cream? Sugar?" he asked politely.

"I don't care," she said sharply. "Just go to the kitchen, now." She pointed.

"I'm not your damn dog," he said, losing his temper. "I was being perfectly nice to you, and you snapped my head off for no reason at all."

"Spike-" she cut in.

"You wouldn't treat me this way if I could bite you," he snarled, his lip curling with anger. "You wouldn't dare talk to me in this fashion. You'd be begging, that's what you'd be doing." He advanced on her menacingly, and she backed away from him.

"Just calm down," Willow said.

"Don't you bloody well tell me to calm down," he said, backing her in a corner. "You don’t respect me, do-" He stepped down on something slippery, and it crinkled underfoot. Bending down, he picked up a maxipad, its plastic wrapper torn.

Willow snatched it out of his hand and grabbed a pair of panties from her backpack, stalking to the bathroom and slamming the door shut. "That’s what’s got you all overwrought and emotional about nothing?" He snorted. "Women."

"You are such a man," she said through the door.

"Vampire," he corrected her.

Willow came out, walking briskly past him to grab her backpack. "Blood is life," Spike said, watching the beads of water roll from her wet hair onto her shoulders. "Nothing to be ashamed of."

"Stop saying blood," she said, pulling a clean shirt and skirt from her bag. "It’s gross."

"Blood is lovely." His eyes never left her, watching as she tucked a hank of hair behind one ear.

"Will you stop talking? Please?" She turned to walk past him, but he stepped in front of her.

"You act like you’re walking around leaking a biotoxin, not blood. It’s a natural process, innit?" he said.

She flushed, but she met his eyes. "I’m not normally self-conscious about it," she said. "But I’m almost naked."

"I noticed that," he said, looking at her appreciatively.

She glared at him. "That isn’t funny."

"What’s not funny?"

"Teasing me," she said angrily. "Just because I’m not-" She cut off, looking miserable.

"Just because what?"

"Just because I’m not all big boobs and sexy singing and seductive and stuff doesn’t mean you can make fun of me," she said.

He looked at her oddly, confused, as she pulled her towel higher up her chest. "You think you’re not attractive," he realized. "Where do you get that from?"

She looked away. "Well, there’s the fact that the guy I spent most of life loving ignored me for years, or the fact that for most of high school I couldn’t get a date to save my life. Or, most importantly, the fact that the only guy I’ve ever been with cheated on me, and then couldn’t get out of town fast enough," she said lightly.

"Dru cheated more than once when we were together," Spike said. "Do you think it had to do with her, her problems, the mess in her own head? Or was it me?"

"You loved her so much," she said softly, remembering him crying on her shoulder after Drusilla had left him. "I’m sure it wasn’t anything you did wrong."

"And you really loved the werewolf," he said. "So why do you blame yourself, for him leaving?"

Willow’s face crumpled, and she tried not to cry. "If I’d done things differently, if I’d been more to him, more what he needed-"

Spike put his hand on hers, and she looked up at him, her eyes wet. Gently, he wiped a lone tear from her cheek. "What Dru did hurt, but I didn’t let it break me. No one should have that kind of power over you."

The front door banged open, and Spike blanched. "It’s the Slayer!" He moved to run, and Willow grabbed his hand.

Buffy strode in, stake in hand. She took in Willow in a towel and Spike in the robe. "Do you people ever wear clothes? Did we become the Sunnydale extension of the Playboy Mansion and no one bothered to tell me?"

"No one invited you to the Grotto, Slayer," Spike said.

"Spike, you’re not helping," Willow said. "Go upstairs while I talk to Buffy." She went into the bathroom and slammed the door. "I’ll be out in a minute, Buffy," she called out.

The vampire and the Slayer exchanged glances, and Buffy’s hand tightened around her stake. Spike quickly darted up the stairs.

Buffy sat down on the couch, and looked at the empty decanter of vodka and boxes of candy on the coffee table. She picked up the video and looked at the title, frowning. Willow came out, dressed in a long skirt and a flowing top.

"Is this about me?" Buffy asked. "Is this because I’ve been spending time with Riley and not you?"

"What?" said Willow, genuinely flummoxed.

"This weird thing, with Spike," Buffy elaborated. "How could you?"

"I feel sorry for him," Willow began.

"Sorry for what?" Buffy snapped. "That he can’t get all psycho killer any more?"

"Sorry because he’s totally adrift," Willow said. "He can’t be evil, and he doesn’t know how to be good, and he’s so afraid, Buffy. It’s so sad."

"So you’re going to adopt him, like a stray puppy?" Buffy asked. "You can’t even take care of yourself. Ever since Oz left, you’ve been a total mess. This is just another way for you to fall apart."

"I’m not falling apart," Willow said hotly.

"Casting spells that go all wrong, blowing off your classes to watch TV and eat chocolate, wearing minimal clothing with the undead. Does that sound normal to you?"

"I’m coping," Willow said. "Pardon me for not bouncing back in a blink when my heart gets broken."

"Grievy rebounding with Spike is insane," Buffy said.

"I’m not getting it on with Spike!" Willow exclaimed.

"Then why did you tell Riley he was your boyfriend?" Buffy countered.

"I was protecting him," Willow explained. "Riley is one of those commando guys that invaded our dorm. Spike’s terrified that Riley will recognize him and take him back to the lab."

"Riley’s not a commando guy," said Buffy, laughing. "Upstanding young graduate student, not part of some secret military organization."

"Spike’s positive," Willow explained. "He recognized his voice."

"Spike’s an idiot," Buffy said. "He’s trying to pull one over on you, and it’s working."

"What does he have to gain by lying to me?" Willow asked.

"Well, so far looks like he got out of his chains, out and about in town, some candy and alcohol, and a night in bed with you." Buffy said. "Am I wrong?"

"No," Willow said, coloring. "But it’s not like that."

"Look, Willow," her friend said. "You don’t have to lie to me. If there’s one thing that is important to me, it’s the truth."

"So are you going to ask Riley about the commandos?" Willow asked seriously.

"Of course not," Buffy replied. "How am I going to work that into a conversation?" She sighed. "Plus, he was pretty upset about me barging in here last night. He’s totally serious about taking you and Spike out to dinner to apologize."

"Fine with me," Willow said. "It’ll give me a chance to feel him out, find out if he does have something to do with the evil Boy Scouts."

"I’m not going to let you interrogate my boyfriend," Buffy said intently.

"And I’m not dropping it," Willow snapped. "You can let this dinner go ahead tonight, or I can tell him exactly why I know about the commandos in the first place. "

Buffy’s eyes widened in surprise. "That would be outing Spike as a vampire, and me as the Slayer!"

"Which would be okay, because the truth is so important to you," Willow retorted.

Buffy looked away. "Well, fine. We go through this phony date, and I’ll trust you to get Spike looking and acting quasi-normal."

"Riley’s already seen Spike-" Willow broke off, thinking that when the Initiative had tried to capture him, he’d been wearing exactly the same clothes he had on now. "Well, maybe getting him into some different clothes would be a good idea. Although, I have no idea how I’ll get him to act normal. He’s- Spike." She smiled. "What’s he going to talk about? School, sports, computers? He doesn’t know anything normal."

Buffy furrowed her brow. "I wish you would act normal too, Will. You are so totally lying to me about what’s going on with you and Spike. Look at you all- crushing on him, and you’re lying to me, to my face! I feel like I can’t trust you any more." Buffy stalked away, closing the door behind her.

Willow stood in the center of the living room, stunned. She headed upstairs to the bedroom. Spike lay in Giles’ bed, reading a thick book on magic. "Slayer’s in a snit. She didn’t mean anything by it," Spike said, his eyes understanding.

"Oh, she meant it," Willow said, her voice wobbling. "Every word."

"Why are you protecting me, when it’s causing you so much hurt?" he asked intently.

"Because it’s the right thing to do," she said, pressing on her eyes. "It’s wrong to bully people who can’t defend themselves. And it’s really, really wrong, to think that because you believe someone is inferior to you, that gives you permission to hurt them."

"She’s the Slayer," he reminded her. "It’s her job to kill all the beasties that go bump in the night."

"And the commandos?" she said. "Are they all Chosen too?"

"This is not your fight," he said. "Something hunting demons, that’s not your concern." He put down the book and looked at her seriously.

"You’re more than a demon," she said. "You’re a person. You didn’t ask to be turned, did you?"

His face impassive, Spike said, "No, I did not."

"Then this is something that happened to you, not something you asked for. Why should you be punished for that?"

"Because I kill people," he said baldly.

"I could kill people too," she said, her face stark. "I’m powerful enough."

"But you wouldn’t because you’re good," he said. "I’m a creature of darkness-"

"I can harness the powers of darkness!" she said vehemently. "Should they put a chip in my head to stop me?"

He sighed and walked over to her. "You’re such an innocent, petal. You don’t have a clue what evil really is. If you had any sense, you would stake me yourself." He leaned in close to her. "If you knew the things I’ve done, the things I want to do, you wouldn’t hesitate," he whispered, his mouth inches from hers.

The phone rang, and Willow startled. She walked to the bedside and grabbed the phone. "Hi," she answered. "Hi Giles!" She lay back on the bed, her damp head resting on a pillow. "How’s L.A.? Oh? That sucks. Well, I know the car was kind of on its last legs. No, things are fine here, no reason to rush back. Yes, Buffy was here earlier." Spike lay down on the bed behind her as she listened to the phone. "Okay. Bye." She hung up and turned to Spike. "Giles won’t be back until Monday."

"Gee, I’m crushed," he replied.

"You like me better as a babysitter, huh?" she asked him.

He looked at her, his unblinking stare disconcerting. "I like you a lot better, love." He reached out his hand and traced along her collarbone.

She startled. "What is with you, with the looking and the touching?"

"I think you can figure it out," he said huskily. "You’re a very smart little girl." She stared at him in disbelief as he took her hand in his and closed his mouth over her middle finger. He stared up at her with his penetrating eyes as he sucked at her skin, his mouth cold and slick and smooth.

Willow snatched her hand away from him. Her heart pounded in her chest and she stared into his eyes. ‘You know you want him’, a voice said in her mind. ‘You know you want to feel that mouth on your breast, between your legs…’

She scrambled off the bed as if it had burst into flames. "I’m going out for a while," she babbled. "You don’t have to worry about Buffy coming back."

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I’m going to take my bike to the mall," she explained. "Pick out a new shirt and pants for you."

"What’s wrong with my clothes?" he asked, genuinely surprised. "You don’t think I look good?" He looked down at his black on black ensemble.

"You look great," she said. " I mean you, always look really sexy." He looked at her with eyebrows raised. "I mean- you have that bad boy thing going. That’s really- " He smiled and licked his lips, looking very pleased with himself. "Anyway, I was just thinking something a little more blendy. More J. Crew, less- leather."

Spike frowned and crossed his arms. "Too bad. I’m not letting you dress me."

"The more normal you look and act, the more smoothly things will go," she explained.

"You really think that commando boy will kill me if I don’t pass the dress code?" Spike said. He looked at her distraught face.

"Please," she said. "Just do it for me."

"I do a favor for you, you do a favor for me," he negotiated.

"You’re not doing me a favor by wearing new clothes," she said. "You’re saving yourself."

"I don’t do things I don’t want to do," he said. "So you need to make it worth my while."

"What kind of favor?" Willow asked.

"That would ruin the surprise of it." Spike looked at her predatorily, and she shivered.

"Nothing sexual, and no blood," she said, the words tumbling from her lips.

He smiled. "Done." He stood up and waved at the door. "Let’s go. I’ve got a car down the block."

"It’s daylight," Willow pointed out. "You can’t leave."

"Have blanket, will travel," he said, grabbing the comforter from the bed and pulling her out the door.

******

Willow stood in front of a mannequin at the Gap, pointing out its blue rugby shirt and khaki pants.

"No," Spike said flatly.

"What’s wrong with it?" asked Willow.

"It’s hideous," he said, his voice dripping with disdain.

"I think it would look pretty on you." He gave her a scathing look. "Okay, how about this?" she said, holding up a blue polo shirt.

"Please," he said, scoffing.

"Okay, let me remind you what the goal is here," Willow said seriously. "You need to like a regular guy." She held up a madras plaid shirt and a pair of pleated chinos.

"I see plenty of guys walking around, and they don’t all look like they’re heading to a sodding sock hop," Spike said, gesturing at the other customers in the store.

Willow looked at him thoughtfully. "Fine. Let’s go." She took his elbow and led him from the store. They walked down the concourse of the shopping mall and Willow pulled him into a novelty shop. They passed racks of bumper stickers and shelves of gag gifts. Willow stopped at a display and started pulling things off of it.

"What is all this crap?" Spike asked, fingering a leather collar with small metal studs.

Willow smiled at the vampire. "You’re going to pretend to be what you really are." She held up a t-shirt. "I’m So Gothic, I’m Dead," it declared.

****

Willow finished her preparations in Giles’ bedroom and walked downstairs. Immediately, she was struck by a powerful smell. Spike appeared to have pulled the cushions off the sofa and the armchairs, making a cozy nest on the floor. He was wearing his new shirt and leather collar, his hair streaked with blue tufts that had taken her an hour of careful application. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Getting good and stoned," he replied, his voice smooth and mellow. He looked up at her and smiled. "God, you’re lovely." She was wearing a fuzzy pink sweater and a long black skirt, her mouth shining with some sparkling gloss.

She noticed the small brass pipe in his hand, the baggie full of green buds lying next to him. "You’re doing drugs?" she said, shocked.

"Gladly," he said, as he sat up and lit the pipe, sucking the smoke into his lungs.

Willow stomped over to his side and tried to take the pipe away from Spike. He moved it away in a flash. "Where did you get this from?"

"I found it with the spell components," he said with a lazy smile. "Between the lamprey root and marshmallow."

"Giles wouldn’t keep marijuana," Willow said, horrified. "It kills brains cells."

"It’s his stash, love," Spike pointed out. "He doesn’t seem intellectually deficient to you, does he?"

"I can’t believe he would do something like this," she said.

"It’s just a little pot," Spike said with a chuckle. "Not like he’s mainlining heroin, pet."

"It’s a gateway drug," she said earnestly. "One little puff, and you know, you want the harder stuff."

"Do you believe everything you’re told?" he asked her.

"Of course not," she said defensively.

"I assure you, just getting a little bit of a buzz will not make you one step away from the crackhouse." He held out the pipe and lighter. "Calling in that favor, Wicca. Toke up."

She looked at the pipe as if it were a viper. "Not a chance."

"Nothing bad will happen," he assured her.

She looked at Spike distrustfully. "I don’t really want to do this. I’m a good girl." He smirked at her, and she blushed with embarrassment. He must think she was a total dork.

"Even good girls can have a speck of fun," he said. "It’ll make you feel relaxed, and mellow, and you’ll like it. Trust me." He got up, flipping the switch for the turntable. Putting the needle in the groove, he closed the cover, putting his arm around Willow and guiding her down into the heap of pillows.

"Relaxed would be good," she replied. "I’m so nervous about tonight."

"Live a little," Spike whispered, lighting the pipe and handing it to her. Willow looked at him, eyes wide, and he nodded encouragingly. Putting her lips to the pipe, she inhaled deeply. She coughed, barking, and Spike rubbed her gently between the shoulder blades.

He lit the pipe again for her and moved her hair to the side. "Once more," he said in her ear. She inhaled slowly, her eyes shut. "Just hold the smoke in your lungs for as long as you can, until they burn a bit, and then blow it out," he said.

She did as he instructed. "I don’t feel anything yet," she said.

"Just one more hit, and that’ll do you," he said. She lit the pipe and inhaled, waiting a few seconds before exhaling a thin stream of smoke.

Spike set the pipe in an ashtray and stared at her. His eyes were rimmed in black eyeliner, and they seemed so blue, like a Wedgwood candy dish her mom kept in the fancy living room. "What do we do now?" she asked him.

"Close your eyes and listen to the music," he suggested. She leaned back into the soft pillows, and did as he asked.

"Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup," the song began.

Willow started to feel panicky. What was she doing here? Lying next to Spike, on drugs? Her head filled with insistent, chastising voices: Xander, her mother, Giles, Buffy….

"Stop thinking," Spike instructed, his thumb gently skimming across her fingers. She splayed her hand across his stomach, and he breathed in deeply. He brought her hand to his mouth and licked her palm, his tongue tracing delicate swirls on her skin.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "We can’t do this," she said. "Even if there’s sparkage, there’s no point acting on it."

"Why not?" he said.

"It’s a bad idea," she replied.

"Seems to be very good so far," he said, his voice husky. "Very good." He turned his head to look at her, and his mouth descended, covering hers. She opened her mouth, and he slipped his tongue inside. They explored each other, the embrace soft and lingering. Willow broke the kiss, and buried her face in his chest. He put his finger on her chin and pulled her mouth back up to his, his fingers twining in her hair as they kissed more and more deeply.

He pulled her sweater off and flicked the front clasp of her bra open, sucking her hard nipple into his mouth. "Oh," Willow squeaked in surprise. He lapped at her with the strong muscles of his mouth, licking and gently biting her delicate skin.

In a rush, Spike moved back up to her mouth, his hands twisting in her hair as he shifted between her legs. He rocked against her with his stiff cock, growing harder and harder with each thrust. "You like that?" he asked raggedly, breaking their kiss.

She blushed. "I can’t actually feel it," she said.

He frowned and slid his hand under her skirt. Pressing his hand between her legs, he felt the cotton maxi pad that was wedged between the two of them.

Spike slid down and pulled off her skirt, and then hooked his thumbs around her panties. Pulling them down her thighs, he revealed the cotton pad slightly stained with blood.

"Stop. Wait." Willow said nervously as he tugged them off and tossed them aside. He leaned down to part her thighs, and she grabbed his shoulder.

He looked up at her. "What’s the matter?"

She tugged at his shoulder. "Just come up here for a second."

He did, lying next to her on the pillow as she stared up at the ceiling. "I know this isn’t really a sex thing for you," she said quietly. "I understand that it’s a food thing, not a Willow thing. It’s not really about me."

He opened his mouth to deny it, and she turned to look at him. "And that’s okay. I’ve heard- things, from other girls I know about guys, doing- you know," she said, waving her hand at waist level.

"Going down on a girl," he supplied.

"Right," she said. "And I know it’s usually something guys only do when they really, really love a girl, because it’s, you know gross and the um… the smell. Especially at this time of the month…" she trailed off, beyond embarrassed.

"Women smell good," he said. "Specially there, love." He kissed the corner of her mouth. "Specially you."

She blushed. "Most guys won’t do- that, even if they do love a girl, and there must be some reason why, and maybe it’s because, you know, their girlfriend, she may just- not be appealing that way…"

Spike slid his hand across Willow’s abdomen, making her gasp. He dipped his fingers between her legs, sliding two digits inside her lips. Slowly, he pulled them out and raised them to his mouth. Willow looked away as he slid his fingers into his mouth and sucked. "Look at me," he said, when his fingers were clean of her blood.

She turned her head and looked at him. "It’s okay if you don’t want to," she said. "My feelings won’t be hurt."

He took her hand and pressed it against his throbbing erection. They looked into each other’s eyes. "Never wanted a girl as much as I want you," he said. "Never craved the scent, your taste, it’s so-" He shook his head, at a loss for words.

"Why me?" she asked, stunned.

"You taste like magick," he said simply, and in one swift gesture, he pulled apart her thighs and shoved his tongue inside her. She screamed, and he drove his tongue in and out, fucking her mercilessly as he made his tongue as long and hard as possible. After several minutes she began to buck and shake, and blood and her musky juices filled his mouth. As she began to peak, he kneaded her abdomen with his hands as he sucked strenuously, and a torrent of rich, dark moon blood filled his mouth. When it slowed to the barest trickle, he moved his mouth to her swollen clit, gently licking and sucking until her tiny hard bud was revealed to him. He brought her to a second orgasm, and the sounds of her screams, the scrape of her nails on his neck and the ecstasy of her blood filled him with euphoria.

Spike pulled away from her. She was a rosy pink and gasping for breath, her eyes closed. Her neck was bared, and he was drawn to the throbbing blue vein that pulsed underneath her skin. He felt his features shift as the world funneled down to this girl, this moment.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, hazy from drugs and orgasm. "Yellow eyes," she said dreamily.

He unfastened his pants, hurriedly, desperate to enter her. "Have to get inside you again," he said, thrusting inside her. "You feel so good. My sweet girl."

Time seemed to stop as the haziness faded from her eyes, replaced with awareness and fiery anger. "You jerk," she hissed furiously, pushing him off.

"Willow, let me explain," he said, scrambling backwards.

She advanced on him, her body filling with rage and a sense of violation. "You slept with me!"

"I thought you wanted me!" he said forcefully.

"Why would you think that?" she asked, her hands shaking with anger.

"Because that’s what you said!" Spike exclaimed.

"You’re a liar!" she said angrily.

"You’re the liar!" he yelled, pointing at her. "Lying to yourself! Did you think I was your beloved werewolf? Maybe last night, yeah! But who was it you were thinking of just now, while I was inside you?"

"Stop!"

"Me!" Spike yelled. "You knew damn well it was me! I’m the one that can give you what you want. I’m not the one that hurt you and fucked around on you and deserted you-"

"Shut up!" she shrieked. A bolt of scarlet exploded from her hands, hitting him in the chest.

Spike stared at her in surprise as bolts of red energy flared across his body. "Willow?" he said questioningly, and then he crumpled to the floor.