As Willow entered the study, with Angel close behind, she let her eyes roam over the many intriguing objects that met her eyes - dusty books, gleaming weapons, a CD player set discretely in a corner, small statuettes tucked away in various niches and half a dozen charcoal sketches on the wall. This was a room that actually suggested Angel spent some time here, unlike the more impersonal main room of the apartment.

Waiting for Angel to show her the magic books, Willow noticed that he seemed to be struggling to say something. He opened his mouth only to close it again as he shifted uneasily from foot to foot.

"Angel?" Willow said gently. She doubted she wanted to hear whatever it was that he had to say; after all, she had seen the looks he had been exchanging with Spike and had no doubt she was about to get some kind of warning.

But on the other hand, Angel knew Spike better than anyone (except Drusilla, of course) so maybe he would have some insight into exactly what was going on, because Willow would very much like to know.

"Look, Willow, I know that you probably don't feel very comfortable discussing this with me, but even though we haven't been that close I consider you a friend, and I want you to know that you can always feel free to discuss, um, things with me that maybe you wouldn't feel comfortable discussing with your other friends."

"You mean, my other human friends," Willow said innocently, mentally cheering as Angel was struck momentarily speechless.

Angel was taken aback by her comment, thinking for a brief moment that she was throwing his demonic nature in his face - as he so often did to himself. But then he noticed the teasing gleam in her eyes, and the poorly concealed smirk on her face.

"You really have been spending too much time with Spike," Angel replied without thinking how his comment would sound.

Willow paled, and the amusement left her face as she prepared herself for The Lecture. "Come on, then," she said flatly, "Let's hear it. You know you want to."

Angel decided, despite the poor start, that he had better take the opportunity to try to discover what exactly was going on. "Willow, does Buffy know that you and Spike have, ah, are having sex?"

This time Willow welcomed the feeling of the fire within her boiling to the surface.

"For your information, Mr Leave-My-True-Love-Because-It's-Just-Too- Hard, Spike and I are not "having sex". We had sex once, yes, and we may have it again - I certainly hope so because it seems to me that Spike at least has spent the last century acquiring skills a bit more useful than moping and brooding. And if I am lucky enough to be at the receiving end of his very welcome attentions, I do not see that it is any business of yours. Or Buffy's!"

By the end of her outburst Willow's voice had reached a yell, and Angel was very aware that Spike would have heard most, if not all of her speech.

Angel felt his demon struggle for control, eager to put both the little redhead and Spike in their place - namely under him in every sense. Angel closed his mind to his demon's siren song, and instead made another attempt to guide the conversation into less agitated waters.

Keeping his voice low, Angel said calmly, "Willow, I know better than most what a talented lover Spike can be, but he is a vampire. He may have stopped killing humans for now, but we both know that as soon as he finds a way to get that chip out of his head, and believe me that he will eventually, he will be just the same as before, killing and torturing for pleasure, and you and your friends will be at the top of his list."

Willow looked straight into Angel's earnest puppy-dog gaze, oozing sincerity and concern, and watched with interest as her right arm seemingly took on a life of its own, moving with lightening speed to land a punch directly on Angel's right shoulder.

"I can't believe this, coming from you of all people. Yes, Spike is acting differently because he has a chip, and maybe he will lose it one day, but that doesn't mean that what Spike and I have, whatever it is, is doomed. Anymore than you can never have a relationship just because one day your soul could go. I mean, of course I know the risks, but that doesn't mean I have to live in a state of fear, anymore than you do."

Angel stood still, digesting her words (and rubbing unconsciously at his shoulder - she packed quite a punch) while Willow took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

She put a hand reassuringly on Angel's arm, and said in a softer tone, "Angel, I appreciate your concern, I really do, but I am just not in the market for advice at the moment. Not about Spike, anyway. OK?"

Angel was trying to focus on her words, but the minute her hand touched his arm he felt the strangest sensation spread through his body, as though the cool, second-hand blood in his veins was being replaced by something much warmer and more exotic.

The delicious sensation captured his mind, and it seemed as though Willow's voice faded into silence as his eyes fastened involuntarily on the raw looking bite mark on her neck.

His demon used its softest and most persuasive voice: (if just her touch feels so good, imagine what her blood will taste like. You could just have a tiny sip, it won't hurt her, might even make her think twice about getting involved with a vampire.)

Willow waited for Angel to answer, then noticed the dazed look on his face and the gold flickering in his eyes. As she watched his true face emerged, and she realised that his gaze was focused on the wound on her neck.

Willow's main emotion was surprise - surprise that she felt no fear at this unexpected development. After the events of the past few days, she felt that she was becoming an unwilling expert in the field of bizarre behaviour - both hers and others.

Besides, Willow often felt sorry for Angel, sorry that he had chosen a Slayer of all people as his partner. (I mean, how was he ever going to learn to accept what he was when the love of his life was dedicated to destroying him?)

Buffy had once told Willow in a rare moment of intimacy that when she had had sex with Angel, Angel had stayed in his human form throughout, which Buffy seemed to consider a good thing and a sign of his devotion.

But from what Willow had managed to glean from the Watcher's Diaries, a vampire could not reach orgasm without blood being either taken or given. It was a very depressing image - Angel surreptitiously biting his own wrist and struggling to hide his true face - how bad must his life be if that counted as true happiness?

With these thoughts running through her head Willow felt herself slowly tilt her head to one side, exposing the bite mark to Angel's golden gaze. She moved her hand from his arm, running it up over his shoulder to slip it around the back of his neck, pulling his head towards her.

Willow closed her eyes as she felt Angel's tongue tentatively slide over the still sore mark, before she felt a sense of decision fill her companion as Angel shifted so that their bodies were pressed together, with one of his hands firmly holding her lower back, pushing their hips together, while the other tangled in her hair to hold her head still as his cool lips moved slowly up and down her neck.

She could feel the ridges of his face against her neck as he positioned his razor sharp fangs over her neck, sliding them into the existing puncture marks and causing her blood to flow swiftly into his mouth.

Willow could feel his erection growing against her, and she was conscious of the answering wetness between her own thighs. (What the hell is happening to me?) the logical part of her brain screamed before being swept away by her baser emotions. As he suckled at her neck Angel made soft growling noises, and slowly rocked his hips against hers, causing Willow to softly moan in response.

She was brought quickly back to reality as Angel's mouth was jerked from her neck by a very pissed-off Spike, who threw Angel to the floor before commencing to kick the fallen and still dazed vampire.

"You bastard, just keep your fucking fangs to yourself" Spike screamed as his boot made a loud thud against Angel's ribs.

As he moved to kick again, Angel's hand shot out, grabbing Spike by the ankle and causing him to lose his balance, tumbling to the floor next to Angel. Angel used the opportunity to lunge over and position himself astride Spike, punching him at will as Spike struggled to free himself.

Willow watched helplessly then felt her anger explode, and suddenly there was a bright flash. All three fell to the floor, unconscious.

Wesley entered the building, clutching his prize to his chest and somewhat surprised by the deserted office that greeted him. Moving to the lift he descended, wondering exactly why Giles needed this book.

Despite his attempts to see himself as a rogue demon hunter who had left the Council behind, he still felt the need to prove his worth to the older Watcher, and he was vaguely disappointed that Giles had not asked him to bring the book personally so that he could have discovered more of what was going on, and offered his assistance.

Wesley emerged from the lift to find no-one in the apartment's main room, although there were some signs of activity - a half-eaten sandwich and some empty cups suggested that Willow and Angel were around somewhere.

As he strolled into the study he came to an abrupt halt: "Good heavens!" he exclaimed involuntarily. Surveying the scene in front of him Wesley noted the bite mark on Willow's throat, and drew a stake from an inner pocket. The stake was only centimetres from Spike's heart when Wesley noticed that it was Angel, rather than the blonde vampire, who had blood on his mouth, although both had numerous cuts and bruises on their faces.

Deciding to err on the side of caution, Wesley moved towards Angel, gently shaking him awake. Angel came to with a start, trying to make sense of where he was. He winced as his memories flooded back. He saw Wesley next to him, and the younger man gestured that they should move to the main room. Angel slowly rose to his feet, following the former Watcher and closing the study door behind him.

As he walked he tentatively licked his lips, and his demon moaned in pleasure at the faint taste of ambrosia that lingered there.

He knew what had happened, but he could not understand how or why. Had he really let his demon feed off Willow? And had she really let - no, encouraged - him? He was beginning to think that he owed a debt of gratitude to Spike, for he didn't know if he could have reasserted control over his demon by himself.

He noticed that Wesley had stopped in the middle of the room and was looking at him expectantly, obviously waiting for some kind of an explanation. (You and me both) he thought ruefully, as he decided his best option was simply to ignore everything.

"Did you manage to locate the book?"

"Uh, well, yes, I did. But Angel, what - " Wesley did not even have time to commence his interrogation before Angel interrupted him briskly.

"I don't see any need for you to wait, just leave the book and Willow can take it as soon as she, ah, ..."

"Regains consciousness?" Wesley suggested helpfully.

Angel chose to retreat behind his trademark stoic look, and Wesley debated with himself whether it was worth pursuing this with Angel. Deciding that he was no match for his employer with his gift for evading uncomfortable topics, Wesley instead tried another tactic.

"Yes, well I'm afraid I couldn't possibly leave the book until Miss Rosenberg is, uh, awake as I need to give it to her personally."

"Why?" Angel asked curiously, although only a small part of his mind was paying attention to the conversation - most of his thoughts were with the redhead in the next room, and at the moment his main goal was to get rid of Wesley so he could go to Willow and - what? Wake her up? Talk to her? Feed off her? He hardly knew, but he thought waking her up would be a good first step.

Wesley frostily stated, "I'm afraid I am not able to divulge any further information," and the two stared at each other, at an impasse.

As soon as Wesley and Angel had left, Spike sat up. One of the many perks of being a vampire was the impossibility of anyone ever knowing for sure if you were really asleep he thought, as he slowly stretched his muscles, wincing as he felt a number of sore spots from his recent reunion with his grand-sire.

(Sodding poof) he thought bitterly, as he moved to sit next to Willow's still unconscious form. (Never wants anything unless it belongs to someone else.) He moved Willow's head gently to one side and examined the raw looking mark on her neck as he growled softly.

He didn't understand why Angel had bitten her: (maybe he needs to take that soul in for a service,) nor did he know why Willow hadn't yelled for help - he was just in the next room after all.

Actually, to tell the truth he had more or less had his head pressed against the door, and it was the sudden silence followed by the unmistakable sound of slurping that had led to his timely entrance.

Spike gently stroked Willow's hair back from her forehead, first checking that the door was still closed so that his actions could not be observed. He knew that if Angel had any inkling of how deep Spike's feelings for the witch ran, Angel would make it his business to get between them.

And Spike was well aware of just how irresistible the Irish poof could be when he wanted something - or someone.

His hand stilled as he felt Willow begin to wake up, and he helped her to sit, pulling her into his arms as she focused her wide green eyes on his face.

"What happened?"

"No bloody idea, pet. How's your neck?"

"Sore," moaned Willow, putting a hand gently to her torn flesh, and noting that it came away coated in fresh blood. "It's still bleeding," she said, looking at Spike to see his face without expression as he returned her gaze steadily.

"It's a bit of a mess. We can ask Peaches for some bandages, he's bound to have some."

Willow looked at his face, covered in scratches and bruises from defending her - (not that I actually needed defending, but still, it's the thought that counts). She remembered the feel of him from this morning, of his tongue licking her neck clean, and decided she must be turning into a vampire groupie.

But still - it had been like being licked by a huge cat, his tongue felt rougher than a human tongue, and those little purrs and growls he made ...

Spike's eyes flashed yellow as he smelt her arousal, mingling with the intoxicating aroma of her blood. "This seems a bit familiar luv," he drawled, looking at her flushed face.

Willow wondered if he was anywhere near as turned on as she was. She blocked everything else from her mind - the mysterious book, Giles' grim tidings, her encounter with Angel - and just focused on this creature before her, ice to her fire, calm to her storm.

She slowly leaned forward, and ran her tongue over one of the deeper cuts on his face, gently tracing the line of his cheek, along his beautiful cheekbone to the front of his ear. She felt Spike groan and shift against her, and watched with interest as his ridges appeared.

The cut was still there, running across his demonic face, and Willow drew back slightly, looking into Spike's heated gaze. She maintained the eye contact as she slowly raised her hand, placing her thumb against the cut.

Spike remained motionless, although Willow could feel the tension coiling in his body. With a quick twist of her wrist she embedded her nail in the wound, bringing fresh blood to the surface and causing Spike's body to jerk.

She pulled her thumb away to look at it curiously, now gleaming scarlet with Spike's blood, then she closed her eyes and sucked her thumb clean.

She wondered idly if this was her own blood returning to her. The taste was not unpleasant - a bit coppery. She opened hr eyes at Spike's growl - he was showing some fang, but was still apparently maintaining his control. (Not for long) thought Willow, amused.

She moved her face forward again and licked his wound, this time feeling her mouth fill with the taste of his blood. She repeated the action, pressing harder with her tongue and using her teeth to nibble at the edges of the wound. She smiled to herself as Spike grunted, suddenly pushing her to the floor and fitting his body over hers.

As his hips rocked against her, Willow caught his wildly flickering gaze and said softly, "Taste me," causing Spike to instantly lower his head to the fresh mark on her neck.

He could taste Angel on her, which brought a growl, but soon there was nothing but the indescribable taste of Willow. Spike thought he might come in his pants from the sheer pleasure of it.

Willow however had other ideas, and as Spike continued to suckle at her neck and grind his hips against her, she struggled to undo his jeans.

Finally managing to get them unzipped, Willow rolled them over, leaving a disgruntled Spike lying beneath her licking his lips and looking longingly at her neck as she removed her panties and adjusted his clothing to free his member, slowly stroking it as she admired his length.

Judging from the rock hard state of him and the amount of pre-cum oozing from the tip, Spike was more than ready, as was Willow. She guided the head of his cock into her, then inch by inch sank down on him, gradually tightening her inner muscles until his full length was inside, being slowly squeezed by the flexing walls of her pussy.

Spike loved the sensation, but he was not in the mood for games. Grabbing her hips, he lifted Willow and forced her to begin a quick rhythm. He could feel her juices flowing onto him, and the immense heat of her spreading through his veins.

He tried to prolong the sensation, but Willow was already falling into her orgasm, and at her scream of pleasure he pulled her forward, sinking his teeth into the unmarked side of her neck. He waited for the chip to fry his brain, but there was nothing - until he felt Willow's blunt teeth sink into his neck, and his mind and body exploded into the most intense orgasm he had ever experienced.

His mind shattered, it took Spike a few minutes to realise that his surroundings appeared to have altered. He raised a scarred eyebrow in disbelief as he realised he was lying in the middle of a bare stone floor. At least Willow was still on top of him, he decided, and he ignored his surroundings to once more thrust his softening member within her before allowing it to slide out of her warmth.

He smiled as Willow groaned in protest at the loss, and tickled her ear as her face remained stubbornly buried in his neck.

"Willow, I think now would be a good time to turn on that brain of yours and tell me where the hell we are."

Curious as to what he meant, Willow looked up to see them both in her dream setting. "Not again," she muttered, earning an intrigued glance from Spike.

"Been here before then luv?" he asked conversationally as he stood up and adjusted his clothing.

Willow followed his lead, standing up and attempting to dress. Her panties were nowhere to be seen, but apart from that she looked a bit rumpled but otherwise presentable.

"Uh," said Willow nervously, moving closer to Spike and looking around to see if they were about to meet one of her dream apparitions, "you remember I told you that I'd been having weird dreams?"

"Ye-e-es," Spike drawled, reaching out a hand to pull Willow to his side, placing his arm around her waist.

"Well, this is one of them."