TITLE: Fascination 3/?

AUTHOR: jodyorjen

PAIRING: Spike/ Willow

RATING:  NC-17

SPOILERS: Season 6 through “Normal Again””.

DISCLAIMER: All hail Joss Whedon, UPN, the WB, FOX, Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. GO team! Theirs, not mine.

DEDICATION:

AUTHOR”S NOTE: Previous chapters may be found at http://www.geocities.com/jodyorjen/fascination.html

DISTRIBUTION: Please ask my permission first, just so I know where it’s headed. All of my stories ay be found at http://www.willingslave.com

FEEDBACK: Sure, fire away to [email protected]

 

Miss Kitty was stretched across my chest, her fur warming me like a blanket. I stretched out my hand to pet her, and my fingers ran across silky skin. Startled out of my dream, I opened my eyes, and looked down at Spike’s sleeping face. His head rested on my bare chest, his hair the soft fur of my dream. I bent to gently kiss his cheek, and his deep blue eyes opened, gazing up into mine.

 

“Morning,” he whispered huskily, as he smiled and stretched.

 

“I dreamed you were my cat,” I said. “Well, my ex-cat. She lives with Tara now.”

 

He smiled. “You’ve got a really random thought process, you know that?” He rolled off my chest and propped himself up on his elbow, looking at me appraisingly. His hair was a curly mess, the gel that normally held it into place long gone after a night’s sleep.

 

“I like your hair this way,” I told him. “All wild and free.” I ran my hand through his platinum strands, and he closed his eyes and leaned into my hand, turning his cheek to my palm.  He murmured softly and wrapped his hand around my waist, his tongue slipping inside my mouth. The kiss deepened when we began to move together, my hand seeking out and stroking his hard length as his fingers slid between my thighs. It was a heady feeling, our mouths mingling as our fingers sought out each other, driven to please.

 

He pulled his mouth away from mine and slid down my body, his tongue lapping at my bud. His hand slowly circled over the skin of my belly, soothing me in soft strokes. I tilted my head back and relaxed into the sensation, feeling my muscles melt into putty while his tongue a flickered like a flame inside me. Cries of pleasure leaked out of my mouth in sharp pants and moans.  He closed his lips around my swollen clit and grasped my hands tightly, anchoring me down to earth as my mind split and soared, propelled by bliss.

 

“Willow,” I heard him say distantly. I opened my eyes to see him poised over me, his face tight with need. My hands moved to his cock and slid him inside me, and we both moaned with the intensity of our joining. He arched within me, and I buried my face in his neck as we moved in rhythm. His hand tightened on my shoulder when he began to move faster, and I bit down on his collarbone, making him cry out with pleasure.  Waves of color washed underneath my closed lids as I joined him in climax.

 

We curled together, my heart still pounding as I rested my head on his shoulder. “I like having you in my bed,” he whispered in my ear. "You make waking up a much more pleasant experience."

 

“I feel so good this morning. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this relaxed," I replied.

 

“I feel- content. It’s been a very long time since I could say I was content.” He laughed and tucked my hair behind my ear. “Living with Dru didn’t instill one with a sense of harmony.” He rolled over, his torso dangling over the side of the sarcophagus, coming up holding a pack of cigarettes and an ashtray, lighting one and inhaling deeply. He balanced the ashtray on his stomach, perched perfectly on his muscles.

 

“Speaking of which,” I said. “Dating Harmony must not have been very harmonious. I’d just like to say that I never really got the appeal there, Spike. How could you date someone so annoying?”

 

“There’s something to be said for adoration,” he replied. “Someone worshipping you, admiring you, treating you like a king. It makes you feel bigger than yourself, proud, stronger, even. But it didn’t last, not with her. Stupid bint yapped so much, I couldn’t hear myself think.”

 

“How did you meet her?” I asked him.

 

“Won her in a poker game,” he said. “Her sire couldn’t wait to get her off his hands. I thought the git had lost him mind when I saw her. Harm has her faults, but she is really fucking stunning, I’ll give her that. Wasn’t till I’d been with her a few days that I understood why the bloke couldn’t wait to unload her. It wasn’t just that she wouldn’t shut up. It’s that it was all about her. Never met anyone so self centered in my life, until I met Buffy.” He flicked his cigarette, popping the cherry out.

 

I stiffened. “Buffy’s not self centered. She has a destiny that she can't control, and she has to deal with things that we can’t even understand.”

 

He looked at me seriously. “I understand,” he said. “Of all the people that she knows, I understand better than anyone what it means to be the Slayer.” We locked eyes for a moment, and then I looked away. I rolled out of bed and picked up my nightgown from the floor. Don't go running off just because I brought up Buffy,” Spike sighed, grinding out the cigarette in the ashtray and setting it on the ground.

 

“It's no that. I should get going,” I said, looking at my watch.

 

“You don’t have class until three,” Spike pointed out. “It’s what, ten in the morning?”

 

“I have a paper to work on,” I told him. “I was working on it last night before I-left the house.” I blushed, remembering. Kind of hard to be blasé with the guy you're sleeping with when he'd found you crying because you thought he was in bed with someone else.

 

Spike walked over to me, his muscles rippling underneath his bare skin. “If you have to go,” he said, ”you have to go.” He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me, my pulse quickening in response. My nipples hardened as his cock skimmed across my belly.

 

I pulled away, trying to steer clear of the erotic haze that was clouding my mind. “We can’t just stay in bed all day,” I said breathlessly.

 

“We could if you wanted to,” he said, his tongue tracing my earlobe. “We could spend the whole day in bed doing whatever you want, for as long as you want.” He grabbed the hem of my nightgown and pulled it out of my hands.

 

“Spike,” I protested. “I really shouldn’t-“

 

‘What do you want?” he asked, his fingertips trailing down my back.

 

“You-“ I began, but he cut me off as he lifted me in his arms and carried me back to the bed.

 

****

 

Spike was kissing a path from between my breasts down to my thighs when my stomach rumbled loudly. He looked up at me in surprise and we both laughed. “I told you I was hungry,” I pointed out. “And I have to be at class in forty minutes.” I pulled up on his shoulders, kissing him on the cheek.

 

“I can get you to school in ten minutes,” he said. “That leaves me thirty more minutes to bring you to never before imagined heights of passion.”

 

“I'm hungry,” I reminded him. "I want you, but I want food more."

 

“I must be losing my touch," he sighed. He rummaged through his refrigerator, bringing me a cellophane wrapped croissant and a bottle of juice. 'Will you come back later?" he asked, sweeping my hair away from my face while I sipped my drink.

 

"I really do need to get some work done," I said.

 

"Tonight's Friday night," he pointed out.

 

"Okay," I said, giving in. "I'll meet you back her at seven." I finished off my pastry and drained my drink. He took the wrapper and empty bottle and tossed them in a paper bag.

 

"I still have no clothes," I pointed out. "I can't go to lecture in my nightie."

 

He looked pensive. "I think I have something," he said. He wandered over to the corner and rummaged through a trunk, pulling out a small leather suitcase. “Don’t read anything weird into this,” he said. “Just some things of Dru’s that she left behind her last trip to Sunnyhell.” He pulled me to my feet and slid something over my head.

 

I felt a cool sensation as heavy velvet slithered down my front. I looked down at a black velvet dress with bell sleeves, the laced bodice loose. Spike tightened the laces until it fit perfectly. "You’re the same height as Dru,” he pointed out. “I thought it would fit you.”

 

“She’s more boobacious than I am though,” I said. “And I don’t think I can wear this in public. I look like a Morticia wannabe.”

 

He tilted his head and looked at me. “You look lovely in it, with your creamy skin and hair like flame."

 

“How poetic,” I said. Blushing, he looked through the suitcase. He bent down and slipped black satin slippers on my feet. They were a little tight, but they fit. “I feel like Cinderella,” I told him. “Cinderella with no underwear.”

 

He slipped his hand under my skirt, his hand twining in my curls. “No complaints here,” he said, leaning forward to nip my collarbone. I sighed and we leaned back onto the bed.

 

 “Now I can ravish you,” he said, peering at my watch. “Twenty-two minutes left.”

 

“You’re insatiable,” I told him, as he pulled up my skirt.

 

“You’re incredible,” he replied.

 

****

I opened the door of Buffy's house, finding Dawn and Janice sitting on the couch, looking through fashion magazines and eating a platter of Tollhouse cookies. “Wow, Willow, you look really pretty,” said Dawn with a smile. “That dress is cool.”

 

“Thanks,” I said.

 

“Want a cookie?” asked Janice. “They’re fresh out of the oven.”

 

“Janice knows how to bake,” said Dawn. “She’s teaching me how. We made these together.” She looked at me quizzically. “You’ve been making out,” she said excitedly. “You’ve totally been making out.”

 

“No I haven’t,” I denied quickly.

 

She stood up and lifted my chin, turning my neck towards her. “You’ve got a hickey on your neck,” she observed with a laugh. Her smile quickly faded. “And a vamp bite?” She looked at me worriedly. “Willow, have you been with a vamp?”

 

“I got bitten the other night,” I told her. “It’s no big deal.”

 

She looked at me in disbelief, and the phone rang. “I bet that’s Davis,” exclaimed Janice.

 

Dawn grabbed the portable phone. “Hello?” she said politely. “Hey, Dave, we were just talking about you.”

 

Seizing the opportunity to escape the interrogation, I collected my notes and books from the dining room and took them upstairs, putting them into an old backpack I pulled out of my closet. The new text I’d bought the day before was placed on my bed with a stack of index cards and a pen.

 

 I took off the dress I was wearing and went into the bathroom.  I turned on the shower and let it run until the air began to fill with steam. The powerful jets of the showerhead pummeled my neck and back. Bruises and raw patches decorated my body in all kinds of weird places. Even my lips felt raw.

 

The last two days seemed so surreal. How had this whole thing happened? It seemed to have come out of nowhere. What did it mean? Did I really want Spike, or was I just lonely? Could I really date a vampire who had made it clear that my blood excited him as much as my body did? I thought back over our lovemaking, and realized that wasn’t entirely true. He’d been affectionate, passionate, and attentive, with and without blood.

 

I stepped out of the shower and toweled off my hair, wrapping myself in my terry robe and returning to my room. Did it matter that he was a vampire? Could I gloss over the fact that he'd been my best friend’s lover? Was it even fair to do this while I still missed Tara? I lay back on my bed and rested against the pillow. I needed to clear my head.  My book on narcissistic disorders in hand, I began to read.

 

****

I snapped the book shut and gathered up my notes, satisfied with my progress on the project. I went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, expecting to look as haggard as I felt. My skin glowed and my eyes sparkled, my lips a bright cherry red. I looked happy, Using a round brush, I curled under my hair until it fell to my shoulders in soft waves. I lined my eyes with kohl and brushed soft brown shadow across the lids, finishing with clear gloss on my lips.

 

Trying for casual but appealing, I dressed in my green peasant blouse and a pair of jeans. I rummaged through the jewelry box on my dresser, selecting a hematite pendant on a thin silver and silver studsThe door swung open as I slid my earrings in.

 

 Buffy stood in the doorway, her arms crossed. “We need to talk," she said in a firm voice.

 

"I have a few minutes before I have to leave," I replied.

 

"You're going out with Spike again?" she asked.

 

“We haven’t actually gone out before,” I pointed out lightly. “This is out first- date, I guess.”

 

"I know that you're not going to believe me," she said. "But this is a really bad idea. He is using you to get back at me, and I don't want you to end up hurt."

 

“I don’t think so, Buffy,” I told her. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on between Spike and I, but I don’t think it has to do with you.”

 

“I’m not going to argue with you. You can believe in whatever delusion you want about how Spike is reallu a good guy, deep down inside. But you can’t bring him back here,” she said firmly. “I don’t want him in my house.”

 

“I live here too,” I said angrily. “If I’m going to date Spike, I should be able to have him come over. Not sleep over, if Dawn is at home, but I want to be able to have him here. I don't especially want to hang out in a crypt.”

 

“That's what you get when you date a vampire, Will!" she declared stridently. "He's an animated corpse who lives on blood. Don't choose someone who can't even comprehend love. Don't do something so self destructive. Believe me, I know how you'll end up feeling. This is a mistake.”

 

“You have no idea how hard things have been for me since Tara left," I told her." I've been so alone and miserable, and now I'm not. Can’t you just be happy for me?”

 

“How could I? Spike’s an evil creature that thrives on deception, violence and death. You deserve so much more than that,” countered Buffy.

 

“He used to be your friend,” I reminded her.

 

“He was never my friend,” she said bitterly. “Maybe you and Dawn saw something else in him. I never could.” She turned her back and walked away.

 

****

 

I knocked on the crypt door, and Spike answered it. He looked wonderful, wearing a vivid blue shirt and black pants, his hair left alone to fall across his forehead in gentle curls. “You look great,” I told him. He took my hand and led me inside. Dozens of candles filled the room with a gentle glow. A metal bistro table and two chairs had been set up in the corner, set with a tablecloth and dishes.

 

“Clem brought us dinner,” Spike announced as he led me to the table and pulled out my chair. “Duck, steamed green beans, rice pilaf, and chocolate mouse.” He lifted the lid off of the tray at my place, revealing the steaming meal within.

 

“This looks wonderful,” I told him, as he sat across from me.

 

“Clem’s a chef,” he explained. “His personal taste runs more to fast food, but he can pull out all the stops.”

 

I took a tentative bite of my food. “Wow,” I said appreciatively. “Unbelievable.” I ate hungrily, clearing half of the plate before I even realized it. I looked up to see Spike smirking at me. "What?” I asked him.

 

“Didn’t eat anything after you left here today, did you?” he asked.

 

“I was busy,” I said. “I just didn’t have the time.” I finished my wine and he poured me another glass. "So what did you do after I left?” I asked him.

 

“Watched the telly, read my book. Clem brought over the dinner, and the table and chairs. We hung out a bit.” He looked over at me. “He’s taking Sophie to see a play at the Orpheum tonight if you’d like to go. Something by Ibsen, apparently.”

 

I shook my head. “I’m too happy to see depressing Swedish drama.”

 

Spike laughed, his teeth glinting white. “I’m making you happy, am I pet?” he said flirtatiously.

 

I pretended not to hear him, making a big production out of eating my food. “Did you have any other ideas for this evening?”

 

“I have lots of ideas,” he said coolly "Mainly involving you, me, and a lot less clothing." I choked on my duck, causing Spike to jump up and pat me furiously on the back. “You okay, love?” he said.

 

“Fine,” I said raggedly. “The pounding on my back was worse than the choking part.”

 

He sat down on his couch and lit a cigarette. “Sorry.”

 

I stood up and sat down beside him. “Spike, I really just wanted to have a nice evening with you and talk to about this later, but it’s bothering me and I need to say it now.”

 

The warm blue of his eyes became steely and guarded as I watched. “Is there a problem?” he asked.

 

“I can't see you anymore,” I told him.

 

I saw a vein jump on his forehead ad his jaw locked. “And what exactly did Buffy say that made you come to this conclusion?” he asked coldly.

 

“My being with you, it hurts her. That's not how she's presenting it, but it's the subtext. I heard her talking to you the other night.  I can’t cause her pain, especially after everything that she’s been through.”

 

“What about all that you’ve been through?” he said seriously. "What about all the pain that you’ve had to deal with? Leading the lot of us while she was gone, Tara leaving you and giving up your magick? You’ve been having a rough time of it, too, and you didn’t get a stint in heaven to make up for it.”

 

“You can’t even compare, Spike,” I told him. “What I’ve been through, it was my own fault. My own stupidity and poor decisions brought me to this point.. Buffy needs a little peace, and I can’t cause her more pain. I can't be that selfish.”

 

“If it were you, would you ask it of her?” he asked. "Would you ask her to turn her back on happiness, just to preserve yours?"

 

“It’s irrelevant,” I told him. "It's totally hypothetical."

 

“Just answer the question,” he asked, fixing me with a stare.

 

“I’d never ask her to give up anything that made her happy,” I said softly.

 

He looked thoughtful. "Even if she was with someone that you'd loved, maybe even still loved?”

 

I thought about it. “Yes,” I told him. “Because I love her, more than I love just about anyone.”

 

He looked away, grinding his cigarette into the ashtray. "It wasn't a hypothetical question, sweetheart," he told me as he held my eyes. “It was Xander in her bed last night.”

 

I felt like something heavy had fallen on my chest. She did it to hurt you, said a voice in my head. She slept with him to get back at you, because she knew that part of you will always love him. I felt overwhelmed with nausea, hyperaware of the strong taste of chocolate in my mouth and the smell of Spike’s cigarette smoke. Saliva built up in the back of my mouth and I ran out of the door of his crypt.

 

I took deep gasping breaths of cool night air, trying to get my equilibrium back. Strong hands rubbed my back. “I shouldn’t have told you,” said Spike. “I knew that it would hurt you, and I should have just kept my bloody mouth shut. I remember how you were in the Factory. You were in love with him then, I could tell by the way that you were so terrified that I'd hurt him again.” He wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder.

 

“He came by bragging yesterday about Buffy's sudden avowal of love for him," he said wryly. "He wanted me to know that he'd succeeded where I failed, taunted me for my wasted pining over the Slayer. I came to the restaurant to tell you that she'd invited him into her bed that night. She wanted you to hear them, to know that he was with her in her room.”

 

“I don’t believe you,” I told him. “That’s what Buffy accused you of doing, but she’d never do that to me. She is my friend, Spike.”

 

“She’s livid that we’re together, pet,” he pointed out. "She’s not operating from a perspective of magnanimous good will. She just wants to make someone else hurt the way that she’s hurting.”

 

“If it hurts her so much that you’re with someone else, why did she break up with you?” I asked him. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

 

“She couldn’t admit that she loved me,” he said. “It wasn’t something that she could do. So she let me go, even though she didn’t really want to.”

 

“And you still love her,” I said. “You said as much yesterday.” I shook my head. “The whole dynamic here is so screwed up, Spike. Xander and I, we’re just pawns in some war that you and Buffy are waging. It’s sick, and wrong, and I’m not going to be part of it.” I turned to walk away, and he moved to grab my wrist. We stared at each other in silence for a long moment.

 

“Don’t walk away from me,” he said in a strained voice. "I can't take that. I won't take it from you, Willow. We will work this out, and I will make you understand."

 

“Make me understand what, Spike?” I asked. “That you and Buffy love each other in a extremely twisted, fucked up way?" I stepped around him, and he moved in front of me, blocking my way.

 

“I love her like a moth loves flame, Red.” He smiled bitterly. “I'd rip her apart if I could, just to stop her from having the ability to hurt me the way she does.” He looked at me intently. "It's nothing like how I feel when I'm with you."

 

“What do you want from me?” I asked him.

 

“I want to be with you,” he said. “I've been following you around ever since you smasjed up that car, trying to look after you as best as I could. I was worried about you, Willow, afraid that you'd tear yourself to bits with magick and be lost forever. I didn't realize how much I cared about you until you were teetering on the edge. I wanted to be there, to stop your falling."

 

"I don't need to be saved, Spike," I told him. "I saved myself."

 

'You've been an empty shell, sleepwalking through life, sipping on water and disconnecting from love. I feel alive when I'm with you, and you light up when you're with me." He smiled at me, his hand reaching out to caress my hair. "You've got your sparkle back, and so do I."

 

“I’m not doing this,” I declared, the words rushing from my mouth. “I’m not going to do this.” I turned away from him and ran through the cemetery.

 

“No use running, pet,” he called after me. “The damage is done.”

 

-TBC-

 

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