Title: The Key to Her… Heart?
Author: purplefeen
Rating: NC17
Pairing(s): Spike/Willow/Angel
Spoilers: majorly alternate reality early S4 where Angel didn’t leave and Amy’s not a rat. Angel’s Spike’s sire.
Summary: Willow loses her purse and gets VERY upset when its nowhere to be found.

~~~~~

Willow woke from a deep sleep, eyes wide and brain on alert.

‘I know I had it. I know I had it.’ She told herself over and over as she got out of bed and started searching for her purse. ‘But when did I have it last?’

It was a little after two thirty in the morning and Willow had gone to bed less than an hour before after a night out Bronzing with Buffy and Xander. They’d stopped at Giles’ apartment on the way home and reported that no new baddies had been seen. They neglected to tell him that they’d skipped the cemeteries and limited their patrol to the streets between his apartment and the Bronze.

She’d fallen right into bed without even taking her clothes off, so she hadn’t thought about it until now.

‘Oh, god, what if I’ve lost the key?’

~~~~~~~~

A little while later that night, on the other side of Sunnydale…

Angel wandered through Heavenly Hills Cemetery and wondered, in his boredom, just what idiot had named the place. There were no hills, it was flat as a pancake and this was a Hellmouth, certainly not to be mistaken for Heaven. Not that he’d ever been.

‘Or have any chance of ever going there…’ he brooded.

There had been only one unbroodworthy spot in his night. A fledge had arisen and he’d been in the mood to play with it for a while; lack of any physical activity was wearing on his nerves, Ti Chi just wasn’t doing it for him anymore.

But the fledge had turned out to be housed in the former body of the old janitor from the now-razed high school; a man who had smiled and waved a friendly hello to Angel whenever he’d wandered the halls of the institution at night looking for the Scooby Gang. He hadn’t the heart – soul? – to beat the guy to a bloody pulp and so he’d just staked him straight out. It left Angel with a restlessness that had been plaguing him for quite a while now.

He knew what the problem was, of course. He had – in his broodiness – long dismissed all of his body’s natural urges in the hundred years he had spent condemning himself for his demon’s cruelty. But Buffy had changed all that when he’d become attracted to her and one eventful night brought back all of those desires.

The aftermath of that night was now historical legend, but his mind could no longer dismiss all the… urges – common to a normal man. Because demon he may be, but he was walking around in a man’s body with a man’s mind and a man’s… anatomy.

With no outlet for those… urges – he’d been… well, broody.

Suddenly an all too familiar scent was carried in on the breeze. He wasn’t in the mood to be harassed and ridiculed. He could do both of those things all by himself, thank you very much.

“Spike, go somewhere else. Please? I hear Portugal is nice this time of year.”

Angel, while doing the patrol that the Scoobies had neglected, had found a new baddie in town.

“Peaches? You still here? Still doing the goody-two-shoes bit? Haven’t you outgrown that stage yet? Kids your age, they’re moving on, moving out, getting on with their lives-“

He was interrupted by Angel’s hand, which had grabbed him around the neck, preventing any more of the free flow of air necessary for speech.

“Why are you here?” he ground out. He didn’t want to have to stake his childe. He was hoping he could talk him out of whatever nefarious and deadly scheme he had up his sleeve this time and convince him to leave town.

Spike struggled and made a few rather pathetic attempts to disengage himself from Angel’s hold. It didn’t work.

After spending several minutes getting his jollies watching Spike thrash about, Angel finally dropped him. “I asked what you were doing here, Spike. I thought you were in Brazil with Dru?”

Spike took a moment to rub at the soreness on his neck before standing up and catching his breath. Actually, he was just delaying for as long as possible in an effort to piss off Angel a little more. After clearing his throat, brushing off his jeans and taking off his duster to give it the once over to make sure it was still spotless (and thereby giving Angel a magnificent view of his bum), Spike decided to answer Angel’s question.

“Nah, mate. Left ‘er alone. She wants me, she can come lookin’. I’m on to greener pastures.”

Angel, still a little sidetracked after admiring Spike’s bum, eloquently said, “Huh?”

It suddenly occurred to him – while faced with Spike’s posterior - just how many things he’d been doing by himself lately, thank you very much.

Spike snickered, he’d been with Angelus long enough to know exactly what was on his mind. Maybe he’d kill two birds with one stone. Or rather, kill one hard-on with two stones. Er, two people.

“Got some unfinished business from my last trip. No worries, mate, not gonna kill anyone. Won’t even bite – unless she begs me to.” He gave a suggestive lift of his eyebrows and curled his tongue behind his teeth, leaving no doubt about exactly what kind of business he had on his mind.

Angel sighed. He knew there was no stopping Spike once he set his mind on something. And Spike’s Achilles heel was that he was a terrible liar. So he rarely did. If he said he wasn’t here to kill, then he wouldn’t. Since Spike’s other weakness was sex, Angel had no trouble believing he’d come all the way back to Sunnydale just to get laid.

“You bag it while you’re in Sunnydale.” It was not a request.

Spike rolled his head on his shoulders and cracked his neck. “I’m not going to see some git of a butcher, Angelus.”

Angel gave in. What else could he do? This was Spike.

“There’s some Red Cross leftovers at the mansion. You eat only from my frig while you’re here, you hear me?” He punctuated his statement with a severe finger shaking in Spike’s face.

Spike rolled his eyes. This was ridiculous, a grown vampire drinking from his sire’s refrigerator. But he had other, more pressing plans, and if it kept the ponce happy and off his back, then so be it.

‘Or, well, Angelus on me back could be a good thing, depending on how…’

‘Back on track, William!’

“Yes, Sire.” He gave a mock salute. “Only bag lunches packed by Daddy while in Sunnydale. Can I go now?”

“Anyone I know?” Angel had to ask who the lucky girl was.

“As a matter of fact – Oomph!” He was stopped by a small redhead running into his chest.

“Oh, Spike! Sorry,” Willow said distractedly as she ran to Angel.

“Angel, you have to help me! I can’t find my purse! I had it and then we went – and I thought I had it on the way to – but it’s not there, and I need it! I have to have it, you have to help me find it!”

Both vamps looked at the disheveled girl. She was wearing wrinkled and twisted clothing that had obviously been slept in. Her hair was tangled and she wore no shoes.

“Willow? What’s – you lost your purse? Calm down, its all right. I’ll help -“

But Spike interrupted “We’ll”

Angel glared at him, “What?”

“We,” Spike clarified. “We will help her find it.”

 

“We will?” Angel’s a little slow on the uptake.

“Yes, we will.” Spike took the distraught girl’s hand and led her off, getting the whole story of how she had lost her purse. She’d gone to the Bronze, then to Giles’ apartment. She didn’t remember exactly when she had it last, but it wasn’t in her dorm room or anywhere in Stevenson Hall. Spike was being so solicitous and Willow was so desperate that she didn’t even think about it being Evil!Vampire!Spike that was helping her.

Angel followed lamely behind, listening to the story, until they got to the Bronze. That was when it dawned on him exactly why Spike was helping Willow so attentively.

“Oh, no! Not with Willow, you don’t!” he shouted.

Considering Willow had just finished telling Spike that she didn’t even think to put on her shoes before she left, this statement made no sense at all. To her.

Spike understood perfectly. He turned and shot a very evil smirk in Angel’s direction before turning back to Willow and urging her to continue with her story.

The trio had searched the Bronze, thanks to Spike’s discovery of a “broken” lock on the back door; they’d searched Giles apartment – or rather, Angel and Willow had. None of them thought it was wise to let Giles know Spike was back. They searched the streets of Sunnydale and the university campus, all to no avail.

Willow’s purse was not anywhere it might possibly be found.

Willow was inconsolable. Her tears brought her near hysterics and Spike and Angel finally led her back to the mansion. If they’d stayed out on the streets, even Sunnydale’s oblivious police force couldn’t help but think the two men had done something unconscionable to the young woman.

On the way, Angel went round and round with consoling platitudes about calling the credit card companies and replacing her driver’s license. Nothing helped. The only intelligible word they got was “key”. Spike said Buffy would have another dorm key and mused that maybe a neighbor had a spare house key. Car keys could be obtained from a dealership. And if anyone gave her a hard time, both Spike and Angel offered to apply a little “pressure” to make sure things went smoothly for her.

When they arrived at the mansion, Willow was even more hysterical than before and the two men thought desperately for something – anything – to do that would calm her down.

“Get her some brandy, Peaches,” Spike told Angel as he led the crying girl toward the couch.

“I don’t have any brandy, William,” Angel told him curtly. Spike shot him a look that made Angel feel deficient in some way for not having had some brandy lying around in case a hysterical woman ever had need of it.

“Go look in my room,” Spike told him as if he still lived there, as if he and Angel were roommates who lived amicably together in this big old house. “Should be some tequila under the bed.”

Angel went.

It was when Spike started to pull a still crying Willow onto his lap that they finally understood the urgency of the situation. He’d felt it and as unbelievable as it was, it could only be one thing.

“BLOODY HELL!” Spike screamed and pushed Willow off of his lap and stood up as well.

“WHAT?” Angel came running, bottle in hand. Spike’s screaming was making Angel scream.

Spike paid no mind at all to his enraged sire.

“You let him do that to you?! It’s that short, fuzzy dogboy, right? In the band? Let me guess, he’s off somewhere getting his rocks off on some groupies touring, right? Bloody hell, Red, I’ll kill him! How could you let him? Why do you do it? You have to take it off to – go – right? That’s the key you need? I’ll bloody kill him! And then I’ll kill you for letting him do this to you!”

Angel stood on the sidelines watching Spike get infuriated. He didn’t know what was going on, apparently it had something to do with Oz. He’d always liked Oz; he didn’t harp on about things the way Giles did or whine about things the way that Buffy did or make a complete ass of himself the way that Xander did. But he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like whatever it was anymore than Spike did.

Willow was pleading with Spike, “No, I have to! It’s because I can’t be trusted, don’t you see? The last time – and I know I said I’d never kiss Xander again, but Oz needs to know for sure. It’s only for a day or two at a time. The key, it opens the little part, so I can… you know. But I can’t… do other stuff. And that’s okay, because I promised I wouldn’t do… other stuff. Not that I ever would anyway. Only with Oz. And he needs to trust me. I need him to trust me, don’t you see?” Tears were falling from her eyes; everything about her begging him to understand.

Spike looked to Angel for an interpretation of the parts he didn’t get. Angel sighed and obliged him.

“When you kidnapped her –“

“This is MY fault?!” Spike yelled at Angel.

Angel put a hand on Spike’s arm to calm him down long enough to explain. “Just listen, Spike. When you kidnapped her and Xander, they were scared they were going to die.” Spike started to protest again that he’d never have hurt Willow, but Angel forestalled him. “They were afraid and they sought each other for comfort. Oz” he spat the name, “and Cordelia walked in on them kissing. Xander lost Cordelia over it and Willow and Oz went through a rough time, but he took her back eventually.”

“He took her back? She should have counted her blessings.” He turned back to Willow, slightly calmer now. He was partly to blame for her having to wear this monstrosity.

“Pet? He doesn’t trust you? So he makes you wear a –“ he had trouble saying it, it was too evil, even for him. “It’s a chastity belt, yeah?”

Willow nodded.

Angel suspected, but now that it was confirmed, he wanted to rip Oz’s limbs off. Spike saw Angel’s face.

“Get in line, Peaches. I get first shot at him; you can have anything that’s left.”

Willow, however, felt the need to defend her boyfriend. “But – no – you see, it’s leather, but it’s really soft. It moves,” she was lifting up her skirt to show them that Oz was not the monster they believed him to be. “It’s really comfortable. Well, except for the zippers and the locks.” She lifted her skirt to reveal a black leather harness that locked in place around her waist. An hourglass shaped piece of leather went down the front, between her legs and up the back. She twisted and turned and the leather moved with her; but when Angel tried to touch it, it firmed up like solid steel. As soon as he took his hand off of it, it became pliable once again.

No normal piece of leather did that. Not unless it was hexed or spelled in some way.

Spike grabbed hold of the skirt and ripped it up the center and pulled it from her body.

“Oh my God, Willow,” Angel growled. He threw the bottle across the room, in an uncharacteristic (at least while not evil) fit of temper. He couldn’t believe someone who supposedly cared for her would make her degrade herself this way.

Tears were still falling. At the look on their faces, all the excuses she had made for Oz’s behavior deteriorated. When faced with the look on Spike and Angel’s faces, it really was as horrifying as she’d first believed when he told her he wanted her to wear this. “Um, guys,” she said, “I need the key, the little one, for the – I have to, you know – the bathroom,” she whispered the last two words.

“And the key is in the purse,” Angel surmised. Spike was still busy visualizing Oz’s imminent death.

“We’ll just get it off. We’re strong. We’ll rip it off,” was Spike’s solution.

“Oz had Amy put a spell on it,” Willow told them as they got into position on either side of her. They pulled, but the leather stiffened up and Willow groaned in pain. They each in turn tried ripping through the leather and pulling at the locks. Nothing worked.

“What kind of spell?” Spike asked through gritted teeth.

“Um, an –“ she paused here to give Angel an apologetic look, “an anti-Buffy and anti-Angel spell. Sorry, Angel. He told Amy he didn’t want you to be able to get it off if I asked you to.”

Angel stepped back and took a moment to imagine all the exquisitely horrifying things he was going to do with the pieces of Oz’s body that were left after Spike finished with him.

“So we get Amy,” Spike concluded.

“She’s at Northwestern.”

“Oh.” Spike was out of ideas. He looked at Angel, but Angel was still in his Oz’s dismemberment daydream.

Spike got down on his knees to take a closer look at the device. The more he looked, the angrier he got. “You know we’re taking this thing off you and you’re never putting it on again, right?” Spike thought he should make that point clear.

“I figured you’d say that, yes,” Willow said. She sounded heartbroken. Spike stood and hugged her to him.

“Pet, you do want this thing off you, yeah? It’s grotesque, this thing. I can’t believe he would make you wear it. And they say we’re bloody monsters.”

She nodded as he spoke, knowing he was right, but still feeling guilty for her actions – the ones that led Oz to think this was necessary.

“Pet, someone who loves you, truly loves you, would never make you do something like this. Love has nothing do with this. This is power and control, not love.”

Spike’s words were making sense. And how weird was that?

In an effort to calm her down and talk some sense into her, Angel lifted Willow into his arms and carried her over to the couch. While he sat down and sat her on his lap, Spike knelt on the floor in front of them to get a good look at the harness and try to devise a way to remove it. Angel knew that if Willow thought about it at all, she would be mortified to be sitting between two men, vampires even, while they studied the metal and leather device wrapped around her crotch. The only thing to do was to keep her occupied while Spike looked the thing over.

But what do you say to a nineteen year old college student when you’re a two hundred-eighty year old vampire?

“So – what classes are you taking this semester?”

Willow turned her head and looked at him, “Huh?”

“Never mind.”

Spike saw what Angel was trying to do and realized this would go a whole lot better if they switched places. Not that he wanted to leave his spot between Willow’s thighs, but Angel was about to scare her off.

“Here, Poofter. You have a look.” He stood and took Angel’s place on the couch while Angel assumed the coveted position between her legs.

As soon as Spike had Willow settled on his lap, he asked her, in as cheerful a voice as possible under the circumstances, “So why do ya put up with this nonsense anyway? Put the pooch out to pasture and find yourself a real man.” This earned him a giggle - which is more than Angel had gotten.

“Oz is – “ Willow seemed at a loss for words, “Oz.”

“Is he charming, witty, a good conversationalist?”

“Well, no.” That really didn’t describe Oz at all, she thought.

Spike moved right behind her and breathed his next words onto her neck, which sent chills down her back.

“Romantic? Bring you daisies and write you poetry?”

“Um, no.” That wasn’t Oz either.

“Will used to write poetry,” Angel looked up and made a contribution to the conversation.

“No comments from the peanut gallery,” Spike told him and smacked him on the top of his head. “He’s in a band, right? He ever write a song for ya?”

“Devon writes all the songs. Well, Kevin writes the music, Devon writes the words.”

Angel, feeling left out, added, “Spike used to write these long sonnets for Dru and –“ he broke off when Spike let out a soft growl. Angel just winked back at him.

“So he’s a snappy dresser? Keeps yer interest with his stunning good looks?”

“Does purple hair count?” she asked with a grin.

“No,” was Spike’s instant reply. “Nice car?” he asked.

“Old, beat up van.”

“Well, Pet, I’m at a loss as to why you haven’t had the mutt put to sleep. There’s gotta be – is he good in bed?” It was the only thing left. He didn’t sound happy at the prospect. He sounded downright surly.

“Um, I guess. Sure.” Willow said, happy she’d finally found something to justify her being with Oz.

“Sure?” Spike inquired.

“I guess?” Angel asked.

“Oh, Luv. We can’t allow this, can we Angelus? The girl stays with a bloody cruel git and she’s not even sure how good he is in the sack. Well, she’s got nothing to compare it to, I s’pose.”

Angel knew where this was going, and he didn’t like it; but once Spike got that look in his eye, there was no stopping him. Willow seemed oblivious, but he had no doubt at all Spike would be able to sweet talk Willow.

“And you say you love the mutt?” Spike turned his attention back toward Willow.

“Y-y-yes?”

“Tell you what. If we can get this,” he turned his head and gave the chastity belt a look of profound distaste, “thing off of you, you let us prove that dog boy isn’t right for you. If we can do that, you not only don’t go back to him, you never see or speak to him again for the rest of his unnaturally short life.”

Willow looked doubtful.

“If you don’t agree and want to go back to ‘im once we’re done, we promise not to touch the prat.”

“You can really get it off?” Willow asked wide-eyed.

“Give it my best shot.”

Willow looked suspicious. “How are you gonna prove he’s not right for me?”

Spike hedged, “We’ll figure that out once we get the thing off, yeah?”

Willow, desperately needing to go to the bathroom, agreed.

Spike lifted Willow off his lap and stood.

“Git told the witch he wanted it Angel-proof, right?” Spike was walking down the hallway toward another part of the mansion. He disappeared for a few minutes and when he returned, he had something in his hand. He looked at Willow expectantly.

“Angel-proof, right.”

“Not Angelus? And no mention of yours truly, of course.”

“Well,” Willow blushed, “He did mention you at first. But then he said that you wouldn’t look at me twice with Drusilla around, so he said to just Angel-proof it.”

A thundering clamor was heard as Spike took the thing in his hand and imbedded it in the wall in one smooth punch.

“Fuckin’ son of a – “ Spike took a calming breath. “Angelus,” he said calmly as he wrestled the thing back out of the wall, “Sit Willow on the hearth with her legs spread.”

When Willow was situated on the hard stone hearth, Spike walked over to her and, using both vampire strength and the anger over Oz’s words and actions, put a railroad spike through the smaller lock on the leather chastity belt. The lock crumbled beneath the assault.

Willow jumped up and thanked Spike as she ran toward the bathroom.

“A railroad spike?” Angel asked with a grin.

“Obvious choice. Wanker would never figure you using a weapon like that. Strength, picking the lock, maybe even a rock. That’s what you’d do.”

“I had considered all of those,” Angel admitted.

“Knew it,” Spike smirked, “I know you so well.”

“Soon as she’s done, we break the other ones.”

Spike smiled. The kind of smile Angelus used to love. “Well, yeah – of course,” Spike said indignantly. But what he was thinking was, ‘Not right away, no.’

~~~~

Willow walked back into the room, bashfully adjusting a towel around her bottom half. To cover her embarrassment, she was talking a mile a minute; thanking them, apologising for the inconvenience.

Now that she was partially free, and complete freedom was in sight, Spike’s anger had cooled somewhat. As Willow walked back into the room, his brain could finally appreciate the sight of her lovely body encased in the soft black leather.

“Wrap it up, I’ll take it,” he said under his breath. Willow didn’t hear him. But Angel did. Angel’s mind went through a thousand scenarios that would possibly lead to him getting Willow out of here with her virtue (what was left of it) intact. He looked at Spike’s face. There was no feasible way his lecherous, seductive childe was going to let him leave with Willow. The best he could hope for would be to stop Spike from debauching her completely.

The only way to do that would be to stay by their side for the entire ride. He looked at Willow. Lithe and lovely, soft red hair that she had cut into a style that framed her face and showcased her luminous green eyes. A soft pink blush that covered her body and made her innocence shine through, in spite of the predicament she was now in. He suddenly saw what Spike saw.

‘No way am I leaving her alone with him.’

Spike would just have to be convinced to allow a third to his party. And Spike’s presence would keep the soul from flying the coop. He glanced once again at the firm buttocks encased in black denim that Spike had taken pains to show off to him earlier that night.

‘I hope.’ Angel thought, casting a quick glance skyward and saying a quick prayer.

“Pet,” Spike said smoothly, addressing Willow, “Sit down here, I want to get a good look at the other locks.”

“Oh. Okay.” She didn’t protest when Angel pulled her down in his lap and used his hands to spread her legs. She was so naïve.

“Hold on a sec’” Spike said before sitting on the floor. He walked out of the room and Angel heard him in the kitchen. When he came back, he had a bottle of Southern Comfort and three glasses.

“You’ve been through an ordeal, Pet,” he told Willow as he filled a glass half full with the amber liquid. Take a sip of this, it’ll make you feel better.” She didn’t seem to notice that he didn’t fill the other glasses.

She had had a horribly stressful night and the embarrassment of having to ask two experienced men for help with her… condition, had been mortifying – even if one of them was a pseudo-friend.

A little courage – of any kind – would be most welcome. Willow, very unsure about the wisdom of imbibing even a little alcohol in the presence of a notorious vampire that had previously threatened her life, did what any naïve, trusting soul would do in such a situation. She looked over to her friend Angel, silently asking if it was safe.

Now was the moment of truth. Angel nodded at her without a second thought. His demon patted him on the back. His dick said ‘thank you’. Spike just leered at him.

Willow took a small sip that burned her tongue a little, but as soon as the liquid settled in her stomach, a welcome warmth began to flow through her. Spike knelt down on the floor between her legs, presumably getting a closer look at the brass locks that were around the waist of the belt. Hundreds upon thousands of lascivious thoughts passed through Spike’s head about exactly what he could do while he was in this enlightened position between the girl’s dimpled knees, but the thought of that belt – and the reason she’d been wearing it – frankly sickened him. He couldn’t bring himself to touch her while it was still in place.

Now if he’d been the one to put it on her, it would have been for entirely different reasons, and he could have spent hours down here, tasting and torturing her to one climax after another. But as it was, the thing loomed dark and heavy between them and he was anxious for Willow to imbibe enough of the sweet whiskey to make the aftermath of the removal of this thing more than pleasant.

Willow, for her part, was taking small sips of the relaxing fluid and taking surreptitious glances down at the sexy-but-completely-off-limits vampire who was touching her thighs and hips and waist in his effort to help her out of… this horrible thing that she was beginning to be ashamed to have agreed to wear in the first place.

Now that the desperate need to urinate was gone, Willow suddenly realized what a compromising situation she had unthinkingly put herself into only a few minutes before.

But Spike had been a complete gentlemen about it, so she took a gulp of the liquid and prayed that he’d get this over with quick.

While Spike “hmmm”ed and “huh”ed over the other four locks, Willow downed the rest of her drink and asked Angel for more.

By the time Spike had decided that the slightly larger locks would probably come off all right in the same manner as the first, Willow was feeling very warm and had even dropped the pretense of holding the towel around her waist.

It seemed to her – now – that the towel had really been a very silly idea. After all, they’d already seen her wearing just her sweater and the dang chasi – chasti – chasi-whosis anyhow when they’d been trying to get it off her the first time.

And she was just Willow anyway and they were big, bad, gorgeous vap – vam - vampri – vampy - guys and wasn’t it getting just a little warm in here?

Not realizing that she’d said ALL of this out loud, she said, “Isn’t it getting’ kinda hot in here? Angel, you should go turn the heat off.”

Spike smiled, as only Spike can, and told her. “I’ll turn it off in a minute, Luv. But you’re right, it is a little warm in here.” He then proceeded to demonstrate his agreement by removing his shirt.

“Oh… just WOW.” Willow said. Spike kept his head down while he smirked.

“Peaches, you keep your house too darn hot,” Spike admonished Angel. “Poor girl’s gonna get heat stroke in here.”

Angel, not knowing what else to say, said, “Sorry. I like it warm.” He didn’t even know where the thermostat was in this house. Does this place even have a heater?

Willow smiled at him, “That’s okay, Peaches,” she told him, “I’ll just take my sweater off, k?”

Angel looked at Spike, Spike glared at Angel. “Uh, okay,” Angel answered.

Willow stood and took off her heavy cotton sweater. Spike took her hand and led her back over to the hearth.

“Help her out, Peaches,” Spike instructed Angel.

Angel once again took a seat on the hearth and helped the now nearly naked Willow to sit next to him. To break the locks that were around the waist of the chastity belt, Angel would need to position Willow – who was now in no condition to figure this out for herself – into a reclined pose and keep turning her so that Spike could position the lock against the hard stone and puncture it with the spike.

It didn’t seem that difficult a task when they started, but in Willow’s intoxicated state, she didn’t seem to want to hold still or turn the way they needed her to.

The positions she twisted herself into did, however, give her up close and personal views of both Angel’s crotch and ass. Her lowered sensibilities didn’t keep her from commenting – louder than she knew – about said attributes.

“Red, hold still,” Spike complained, when, for the second time in a row, his spike missed its mark.

“But Angel’s poking me in the head with his little Angel,” Willow remarked.

“Hey, it’s not little,” Angel defended.

Spike laughed.

“You never complained, Will,” Angel purred at Spike. That made Willow sit up.

“You and Spike made love?” she asked Angel.

Spike laughed, “Not the verb I would have used.”

Willow looked confused. But then again, right about now, 2 + 2 = 4 would have confused Willow. “Huh?”

“We um…” Angel tried to be gentle. “He’s my childe. It’s sort of a rule.”

“There are rules?” Willow looked fascinated. Angel looked at her, all wide-eyed and innocent and full of curiosity. He now knew why Spike would travel thousands of miles just for a chance with her. He only wished he hadn’t been so powerfully blinded by broodiness that he hadn’t noticed her first.

His overwhelming regret had led him into helping the slayer, and close proximity to a warm, willing female for the first time in over a century had clouded his mind with nothing but her for a while.

But that cloud was gone now.

“Yes, Willow,” he told her gently, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. Spike grabbed his arm.

“Oh, no you don’t! I saw her first, you big poof!”

Angel looked up into angry blue eyes. “I know, childe,” was all he said. But Spike let go of his arm and eased his posture.

“Come on, Red,” Spike told the awestruck Willow. She knew something important had just happened but she had no idea what it was.

Spike positioned her so that he could break the last lock and told Angel to hold her still. Three seconds later the last brass lock crumbled and Willow jumped up, thrilled that the nasty thing was finally gone! Not that she would ever tell Oz that she thought it was nasty. But now she’d have to, wouldn’t she? Since she wouldn’t be wearing it when he got back? The alcohol was making her loopy.

It was also making her forgetful, because she forgot that now that she wasn’t wearing the chastity belt anymore, she wasn’t wearing anything except her bra. The reaction of the alcohol on her body chemistry had kept her temperature at a nice simmer, so she didn’t even feel a draft.

Spike and Angel noticed right away though.

She stopped jumping up and down when she noticed that Spike and Angel weren’t jumping up and down with her. They just sat there looking kind of… stunned.

“Guys?” she asked, worried that something was wrong.

Her alarm brought Spike out of his stupor.

“Yeah, Pet,” Spike said, smiling and standing. “You’re free.”

Willow smiled, happy that whatever had seemed to be bothering him wasn’t bothering him anymore.

She jumped up and hugged him and Spike took the opportunity afforded.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her to him. His eyes caught hers as he lowered his head, letting her know his intention.

All Willow could see were the most beautiful blue eyes darkening with what appeared to be desire, but that was impossible since they were directed at her.

Strong arms held her in place and the warmth that had suffused her body earlier was becoming unbearable.

Those eyes got closer, and she felt as if they were eating her alive.

At the first touch of his soft lips on hers, a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding escaped her lips and her body melted into his.

Spike had wanted just to taste her, but she’d looked at him like he was the moon and stars wrapped up with a bow and delivered to her front door. He couldn’t resist that. He’d never felt anything in his whole of existence like what he felt when those trusting green eyes had taken him in and made him her world.

His lips touched hers tentatively, not wanting to force himself on her. He wanted, more than anything, for her to come to him willingly. Her lips were like rose petals as she touched them to his and her eyes fluttered closed as a breath escaped her.

That breath was his undoing. His hold became more aggressive, his lips pushed closer to hers. He wanted to consume her, to pull her body into his and make her a part of him.

She kissed him back willingly, eagerly and the kiss deepened even further. Her soft warm hands explored the expanse of his chest, finally finding their way home and wrapping themselves around his neck. His hands moved down her back, across her taut bottom and down her thighs. His hands lifted her, pulling her closer, wrapping those gloriously long legs around his waist.

Now that she was in a better position for his attentions, his mouth relaxed on hers, just enough for his tongue to peek out and lick a path across her bottom lip.

It must have been the alcohol that made her open to him. But as soon as she did, her world rocked out of orbit.

This kiss, it became – everything. All she could think about or comprehend were Spike’s lips on hers; Spike’s tongue inside her mouth tasting her, playing with her, exploring every millimeter of her so that she had no secrets left.

Spike moved them over to the couch and sat down, bringing her with him, never breaking contact – not stopping or even lessening the kiss.

Now that she was settled on his lap, his hands were free to touch her, to memorize her. The hands that had been holding her bottom splayed and spanned her back, moving slowly upwards, tracing every curve, learning every vertebrae.

Her hands had discovered the softness of his hair. Somewhere deep in her subconscious – because the forefront of her brain was otherwise occupied, she discovered that his hair was naturally curly and this new aspect of him fascinated her.

Spike, without words, but only with the movements of his lips and tongue, encouraged her to learn him as well as he was learning her. Her tongue finally broke free of its warm home and ventured slowly into the cavern of his mouth. His lips closed around it and sucked it in. A shiver went down her spine and the wetness that had been gathering between her legs now began to party. A drop of the liquid slid down her leg and was soon joined by another. When the warm, fragrant drop fell from her skin and landed on the crotch of his jeans, he swears he felt it.

He moaned and the sound finally startled Willow out of her daydream. She pulled back and gasped, eyes now opened and looking with utter disbelief at the man – vampire! – she had just be kissing. Kissing? She’d been swallowing him whole!

Angel was by her side in an instant, hand on her back, touching her, calming her.

“Shh, Little One, it’s all right. He won’t hurt you, I promise you.”

Her shocked eyes turned to him, “Angelus?” she asked.

He smiled. “No, Willow. I’m still me – Angel.”

“Then why -?” She wasn’t even sure of the question.

“Because I want you,” Spike whispered against her neck as he rained soft kisses on her skin. “Because you’re beautiful and I traveled four thousand miles to see you again. I couldn’t get you out of my mind, out of my… soul? Hell, I don’t know. You’re everywhere I go and all I want is you.”

“You have a soul?” she asked.

Spike snorted. “Hardly!” But then he looked into her frightened green eyes and softened. He raised a hand and used his index finger to trace a line down her face from the peak in her hair, down her cheek and across her full bee-stung, just-thoroughly-kissed lips. “But I want one,” he told her, then clarified. “A green-eyed, red-haired innocent of a soul. Will you share yours with me, Red?”

Willow looked to Angel for guidance. No one had ever wanted her before, she couldn’t really believe this was happening; it had to be a trick. He was lying to her, he was poisoning her mind in order to get her to trust him so he could use it in some way against Buffy.

Angel gave her a soft smile then did something Willow never in a million apocalypses would have expected. He leaned in and kissed her. A soft, gentle kiss that showed her how very desirable she really was. She kissed him back at first, then pulled away.

She giggled. “I think you’re both very drunk,” she told them.

They smiled at her. “Willow, we didn’t drink anything,” Angel said.

“You didn’t?” she asked. She looked over at the half empty bottle of whiskey. “Then who drank all that?”

Spike nipped at her neck. “You did, Luv. I had to get you relaxed.”

“So you could get the nasty leathery thing off,” she said knowingly. She seemed to have forgotten the gravity of the situation that she was so worried about only moments before.

Spike used a finger to turn her face toward him. “No, I had to get you relaxed so that you’d let me and Angel make love to you.”

Her eyes opened VERY wide.

“You – you – you – you wanna… No, you don’t!”

Spike smiled and let that finger run further down her body. Willow’s eyes followed its every move. It trailed down her neck, down even further between her breasts, lower over her stomach and tickled over her bellybutton. It ran over her abdomen and disappeared into the red curls between he legs. Willow moaned. When the finger reappeared it was glistening and Spike lifted it away from her, moving slowly so that she could follow its progress. He raised it to her eye level and then offered it to Angel who opened his mouth and sucked it in.

“Oh, fuck, that was hot,” Willow whispered.

“I can get you hotter,” Spike purred.

Suddenly Willow hopped off his lap and stood, holding out her hands to them like she was one of the Supremes - as if that could keep them away.

“Oh, um, okay – I think you guys are drunk. Or stoned. Or – “ she thought for a moment, “Maybe you have me confused with somebody else?” She looked at them hopefully but that dark lustiness that had been in Spike’s eyes had somehow carried over to Angel’s as well.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, suspiciously. Angel didn’t have the nerve to tell her. Spike had no such qualms.

“Um, Luv?” and she seemed to know he was talking to her so she turned to him. He continued, “Look down.”

She did. And saw herself – in almost a complete birthday suit.

“Oh my – I’m so sorry! Oh my – Sorry, sorry sorry!“ she was running around, looking for someplace to hide or something to cover up with. She spotted the towel but Spike stood, placed it where he had just been sitting and sat down on it.

She glared at him and used her hands to cover herself.

It was all too much. She didn’t know why they were doing this to her – it was just cruel and evil. Not ‘Angelus’ evil, but still evil. She started to cry – again.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked between her tears. “Is it ‘Make Fun of Geek Girl Week’ or something? I just – I can’t – why?”

Spike, feeling guilty, grabbed the towel and wrapped in around her waist before pulling her back into his lap.

Angel, not knowing what else to do – he was no good with tearful women (hell, that’s why he had turned sensitive, poetic William) sat down next to them and held Willow’s hand.

“Little One, don’t you know how beautiful you are?” he asked her. He was beginning to think she really didn’t know. He thought all women had an innate ability to see and know just how to use their beauty. Darla did, Drusilla too. Buffy certainly did.

“I am?” Willow asked him. Someone else, she probably wouldn’t have believed; but here was somber, serious and always-truthful-while-souled Angel telling her she was beautiful.

“You’re exquisite, Pet,” Spike told her, leaning in to capture a tear on his tongue. “The boys you’ve known… are just boys. They don’t know you, don’t see you like you truly are.”

Their words were addictive and the, until now, overlooked and underappreciated girl was basking in their attention. “You – you really think so?”

“I know so, Willow.” Angel told her. “You have… something, some inner spark-“

Spike cut him off, Angel just sucked (no pun intended) at wooing women with words.

“Willow, Luv, what the great poof is trying but failing to say is that women like you are so rare that most men don’t know how to truly worship you. Hell, they’re so used to tarted up harlots throwing their titties in their faces that they’ve stopped even looking for the real gem amongst all the glass baubles.

“You’ll never find a man – a human man – who sees deep inside you like we do.” His eyes were caressing her and his hands followed suit as he spoke. “Although you do a pretty good job of hiding your goodies with those fuzzy clothes you wear. Need a real man, you do, to see past all that fluff.” He gave her a grin that melted what was left of her.

“While what you have on the outside,” he leered at her nearly naked body, “Will make most mortal men hard as a spike,” he smiled over the pun, “It’s what’s inside that makes you beyond just beautiful.”

His hand gently lifted her eyes to his, “You’re a goddess, Luv. You deserve to be worshipped and adored. We want to do that, Angel and I. We want to show you what we see; show you the fire that’s inside you. Please let us do that.”

She didn’t know what to say to that.

Would you? (grin)

“But I’m just Willow,” she whispered, finally, after his words were absorbed into her still intoxicated brain.

Angel knelt on the floor at her feet and said, “You’ve never been just anything, Willow.” His heart was breaking for the girl who truly didn’t understand how special she was. Hell, he’d been one of those clods who had overlooked her.

Not anymore. His hands cupped her jaw and he leaned in, finally giving her the kiss he’d been fantasizing about since he looked at her through Spike’s eyes.

As Angel used his mouth to take Willow’s breath away, Spike used his hands to do likewise with her bra. As it fell to the floor, Spike used those same hands to replace the now missing apparel. His surprisingly soft palms cupped her breasts, applying just enough pressure to make her feel good, but not enough to scare her off. He kept reminding himself that she was a nearly virginal human girl and he’d have to be careful with her.

He fervently wished he’d had the sense to drop Dru last year when he’d been here in Sunnydale. Red had still been a virgin then and he could have been her first. But not her last, he knew. Bloody sire always had to get his dick in somewhere.

But Angel had acknowledged his claim on her tonight. He’d said he saw her first and Angel had agreed. Was the end of the world coming?

Didn’t matter. While Angelus was a deceitful bastard, the poncier version of his sire seemed to have some sense of honor. Willow would be his, first and foremost. Even if he had to share her, she’d still be his mate, not his sire’s.

‘Wait a bloody fuckin’ minute!’ his thoughts took control and his hands stopped their actions for a moment. Willow whimpered into Angel’s kiss and he resumed his more than pleasant task.

When did this move from ‘Go to Sunnyhell and shag the fire goddess,’ to ‘Claim her because she’s your mate’?

It wasn’t too late. He’d made no promises, hadn’t said anything out loud. He felt her heat in his lap, felt her skin in his hands, looked at the perfection of her body and mind and decided… that he’d decide later.

“C’mere, Red,” he growled affectionately, pulling her back against his chest. His mouth went to the back of her neck, kissing and tasting her skin with his lips and tongue. She was still a little tipsy, making her relax into his touch. He really didn’t expect she’d have been this willing to let him touch her if she were sober.

She moaned as he gave her nipples more attention. His words and the whiskey had worked together to make it possible for him to get the girl who had been haunting his dreams for over two years now. He pinched them gently and she gasped. He felt more liquid flow out of her and he couldn’t wait to taste it.

But then, Angel’s presence was working remarkably well toward helping him achieve his goal. She trusted Peaches, so she’d go along with this as long as Angel was here to keep her safe.

Why Angel was going along with this was the thing that really puzzled Spike. But not one to look a gift sire in the mouth…

Spike’s hands drifted lower. He could be magnanimous on this one point and let Angel taste her pussy first. The overwhelmed Willow was like a posable rag doll, moving whichever way Spike or Angel manipulated her body. Spike let his fingertips enjoy the feel of her warm, soft skin as he moved down her body. He could smell her sex and this was going to kill him, he knew, but he was feeling generous.

Besides, he knew from experience that he was better at this than Angelus, so Willow may have Angel’s head between her thighs first, but his touch was the one she’d beg for later.

His hands skimmed over her downy curls and across the tops of her thighs. They moved in, curling around her thighs and he pulled her legs apart. His legs opened under hers, spreading her open even wider than she would normally have found comfortable. He looked pointedly at Angel, giving him blatant permission to eat her out.

‘When had unlife gotten so bizarre that Angelus looks for and accepts my permission for anything?’

Oh yeah. This wasn’t Angelus, it was Angel. And Angel seemed to like and respect him a whole lot more than bleedin’ Angelus ever had.

Movement on his lap brought his thoughts back to the present. And to the girl in the throws of ecstasy who was undulating on his lap – and his dick - that was still imprisoned in his too restrictive jeans.

“Oh, gods, Angel. Feels so… Spike!… Mmmm, Angel…” Her words stopped as necessary breathing took over.

Spike’s hands had resumed their assault on her chest. One spread hand moved up her chest to her neck and pulled her head to the side so he could reach her lips for a kiss. He wanted to take over her senses completely, to make her feel so consumed that she’d never be able to leave him.

Spike closed his eyes and looked at the scene as if from the outside. Himself shirtless, sitting with naked Willow on his lap, his legs holding hers spread wide as Angel knelt between them with his mouth tasting the sexual essence of his fire goddess. Willow, aroused and open, her lower half granting Angel access to her sweet smelling pussy, while her top half was pulled against his chest and shoulder as her neck turned to allow him intimate contact with her delicious mouth.

The image made him groan.

The hand that was suddenly fondling his bollocks through his jeans made it a moan.

Willow’s mouth pulled away and he went after it. She was breathing in deep pants now as she neared her orgasm; he sucked her tongue into his mouth before releasing her lips.

“Cum for me, Baby,” he told her. As if the sensations weren’t enough, the sound of that sexy accented voice did it for her.

“Oh, ohohohohohohohohohohoh OH!” Her body spasmed, writhing in his lap, but he used his strength to hold her still so that Angel could catch her release in his mouth. He could hear Angel’s throat swallowing her cum and he wanted it so badly he vamped out.

Willow was holding onto him for dear life as she came and felt his change against her skin.

“Bite me!” she yelled out in passion. He didn’t need to be told twice. He took her shoulder into his mouth and gently pierced her skin with his fangs. His mouth sucked on her skin, bringing her sweet blood to the surface. Angel heard her and knew what was coming. He used all of his own strength to hold her hips in place as her second orgasm hit her. It tasted even better than the first one. He’d love to know what it was Spike did when he bit a woman that made her taste change, but he’d never had the balls to ask.

When Willow finally calmed and quieted and her breathing returned to relative-normal, Angel knew it was time to give her to Spike.

“Come, Little One,” he lifted her off of Spike’s lap and held her on his hip as if she were a toddler. “You ready for her, childe?” he asked Spike.

Spike speedily divested himself of his boots, socks and pants.

“How do you want her?” Angel asked him, running a tender hand through her short hair.

Spike looked her over, she looked a little tired from her first orgasms so he decided he’d take the lead.

“By the hearth?” he asked Angel.

Angel walked over and lay her down on the soft wool carpet that sat in front of the fireplace. “It’s all right, Little One. Spike wants you too, you know.” Her smile told him all he needed to know.

Angel looked at his childe, who was looking down at the woman on the floor as if she were his salvation.

“I’ll be upstairs,” he told Spike and started to go.

“Stay,” Spike said, his eyes afraid to look up. Angel walked over and wrapped his arms around Spike from behind.

“I love you, childe,” he told Spike for the first time since shortly before he’d been cursed the first time. Spike closed his eyes and leaned back into the hard body that he knew almost as well as his own. Angel’s hands reacquainted themselves with the lines of his childe’s body and it was lost on neither man that Willow was watching the scene with rapt attention.

Spike raised an eyebrow at her.

“Like my sire, do you?” he asked her with a smile.

She nodded bashfully.

Spike turned and took possession of Angel’s lips in a kiss so intense that Angel had blood on his lips when he pulled away. Spike leaned back in and licked the blood off.

“I’ll come back to you later,” he told Angel, “I have a redhead to love.”

Angel realised what Spike had said as Spike knelt on the ground. It took Spike a second longer. He looked at Willow to see if she’d caught it.

She had.

Spike crawled up her body and lay his body atop hers.

“You got anythin’ to say, Red?” he asked her.

Speechless once again, she just smiled instead.

~

He loved her. But he couldn’t love, could he? Without a soul?

“Invite me in, Red?” he asked her. He had to be sure. Something within his demon’s heart wouldn’t allow him to take her without her consent.

“Am I safe with you?” she asked. She knew she was drunk and confused and high from lust but what he said and how he looked at her felt real. It didn’t feel like a trick.

But he had to be just toying with her. He just had to be. He didn’t know her enough to love her, didn’t feel deeply enough to know the meaning of the word. He was a sick and manipulative evil bastard who would do anything to get what he wanted. To see what he wanted, take it at any cost and not worry about the destruction left in his wake.

Angel had said so.

“Always,” he assured her.

He was holding himself still, waiting for her to give him the go ahead.

She wanted him, more than anything in the world at this moment in time, but she knew that this moment wouldn’t last forever and she didn’t think she could take it if this was just an easy lay for him.

What he’d said – how he’d said it – how he’d made her feel with his voice and his words and his touches had made her feel… special. Real. Like a woman. Like a goddess.

But it had to all be a lie. And a fall from a height that high would leave her broken and battered.

“Is my heart?” she asked.

“I – “

Platitudes wouldn’t work here. Pretty words meant to flatter and seduce, words he’d perfected in his hundred plus years of deception and destruction, just wouldn’t flow easily from his mouth like he’d expected them to.

“Will?” Angel’s voice interrupted, and they both – both being ‘Will’s, looked up at him. “William,” Angel clarified, “Do you love her? Do you really love her? If you don’t, leave now – please.”

Spike didn’t move.

“But if you do,” Angel continued after a very stressful pregnant pause, “If you do, show her who you are. Who you really are, William,” he added before Spike could protest. “Not who Angelus made you to be, not who you became, but who you were. And not,” Angel felt another protest coming on, “human William Robbins, but who you, William, the demon, awoke to be.”

Willow looked very confused. It was becoming a habit with her tonight.

Angel addressed his next comments to Willow. “Will awoke and fell in love with Drusilla. No other vampire I’ve ever met was as tender as William was with her.” Angel smiled, “With all of us. William loved his new life, his new freedom. It wasn’t death he craved, but life. He had to be taught to kill, had to be,” Angel laughed here and Spike scowled. “He had to be talked into it over and over again. Beaten into it. He just didn’t see the need. He’d rather seduce them, drink them, then leave them be to come back and seduce again another day. He’s not a killer, Willow, he’s not a monster. At least, not by nature. That was something he was taught.”

Spike, who wasn’t very happy being talked about in this way, moved to Willow’s side and lay next to her, his arm still holding her close.

“Is there a point to this walk down memory lane, Angelus?” he glowered.

“What did you think was going to happen, Will?”

Spike really wished he’d stop calling him that.

“Did you think you were going to waltz in here and sweep Willow off her feet and she’d somehow forgive and forget the atrocities of your past? Did you think she’d fall so deeply in love with you that she’d overlook the feeding – the killing? That her warm heart would just allow you to love her every night after you’d been out murdering her neighbors?”

Spike really should have thought this one through before he opened his mouth. But that’s one of Spike’s flaws, he doesn’t always stop and think first.

“No, you git, I thought I‘d come to town, shag her rotten for a few days and then move on. It’s what I do – what we do. We’re vampires, or have you forgotten? We don’t set up housekeeping. We do what we want, when we want and then we move on to the next thing that takes our fancy!”

Willow was tearing up but Angel was smiling. He touched her cheek and gave her a reassuring smile.

“So that’s all Willow is? Just a shag?”

Spike looked down at her; maybe she had been, but she wasn’t now. But he’d sound like a complete ponce if he said that.

“She was supposed to be.”

Angel chuckled and it was really getting on Spike’s nerves the way Angel kept laughing at him.

“You mean to tell me that in the four thousand miles you traveled to get here, there wasn’t one other shaggable woman who ‘caught your fancy’?” Angel was throwing his own words back at him and it wasn’t making Spike any happier than the laughing had.

“Wasn’t looking for another,” Spike countered. “Was thinking about Red here and didn’t look at any other birds.”

Angel just looked at him. “William, no one - man or demon – drives four thousand miles just to get laid. They drive four thousand miles for -,” he didn’t want to say ‘love’ just yet. “Passion. Obsession. The one woman in all the world who haunts their dreams.”

Spike looked down at Willow again, who was back to looking confused.

“A man travels four thousand miles for Love, William. Only Love.”

Angel, the ponce, was right. How had he not seen it before? Or maybe he had and his subconscious had been trying to get him to acknowledge it.

“You don’t even know me,” Willow whispered into the silence.

“But I do, Red. I know your heart. I understand you better than you’ll ever comprehend. I’ve watched you, mesmerized by your strength and your beauty and your kind heart. There’s something in you that –“ If he was going to be a ponce, he may as well go all the way. “Called to me. I can’t help myself, Red. You’re the only one I want.” He sighed. “And Peaches is right. The killing, it was more for show. Not that I’m not the Big Bad,” he said, puffing up his chest, “But I don’t have to be. I crave the fight, which side doesn’t really matter to me.”

“But I don’t – I mean, I don’t know you well enough – I don’t love you back,” she whispered the last part.

“Do you love Peaches?” he asked her and he was dead serious.

“Not – um, sorry, Angel, but I don’t love you like – like that.”

Spike smiled. “Good. Then at least I’m on solid ground. Do you like me at all?” he asked her.

Her blush started at her cheeks and went both up and down.

“Do you find me charming, witty, a good conversationalist?”

Willow smiled and nodded.

He brushes a finger across her lips. “Romantic? Bring you daisies and write you poetry?”

Willow looked at him questioningly and, feeling like a git, he nodded. She giggled.

“Am I a snappy dresser? Think I can keep yer interest with m’ stunning good looks?”

The blush appeared again and Willow licked her lips. He took that as a yes.

“The Desoto’s a classic. Very stylish automobile to own. Plus, she’s reliable. Got me to Brazil and back. Twice,” he told her.

“One last question. Am I good in bed?”

She blushed again, “I don’t know.”

Spike rolled his tongue behind his teeth and gave her body a slow appraisal with his eyes. “That’s easily remedied.”

His hand cupped her face and he leaned down for a kiss designed to melt. It did. But it did more than that as well.

Willow’s hands fisted in his hair and his slid down her back to mold themselves to her ass. The alcohol that was inside of her must have caught fire because her whole body was immediately ablaze, burning in places she didn’t know could smolder.

Besides the obvious heaviness in her breast and throbbing between her legs, there was a place on the back of her neck that begged for attention. The recesses behind her knees became itchy in their desire to be kissed and caressed. The small of her back was desperately screaming for his touch.

All of her cried out for him, he was right, there was something there. Something huge that couldn’t be explained or rationalized, but it couldn’t be dismissed either. She’d never felt like this before. Every time he touched her it was like she came alive for the very first time.

His lips left hers and she whimpered. She felt him smirk against her neck. His tongue trailed a lazy path from her shoulder, over his bite mark, and up her neck until it reached her ear. His teeth nibbled on it, bringing out new sensations, heretofore unknown to her.

One hand slid across her sweat-slicked skin and covered her throbbing center. One finger, followed by another, and then a third, entered her, finding her more than ready for him.

“Invite me in, Luv.”

Willow waited until his worried blue eyes looked into her suddenly confident emerald ones before saying, “I invite you in, Love.” Somehow, he heard in her tone of voice the difference in the spelling of the word love. Or maybe he saw it in her eyes. She may not love him yet, but she was giving him a shot and that’s all he needed.

He sat up on his knees and hooked his arms under her calves, lifting her legs until she made a perfect L shape. Eyes never leaving her face, he slipped in.

Angel couldn’t help the smile that formed when they both let out a deep contented sigh – at the exact same moment.

‘Some things,’ he mused, ‘were just meant to be.’

Spike moved slowly in and out of her, going just a little deeper each time. He felt her unbelievable tightness and was desperately trying to hold on to enough control to let her have time to adjust to him. When at last, he found himself fully embedded in her, his thrusts got a little stronger.

He knew if he continued this way, he wasn’t going to last. Even though vampire recovery time was practically non existent, he wanted their first time to be perfect for her.

He pulled out of her and moved her left leg down flat on the floor. Not currently having the brain capacity needed to explain to her what he was trying to do, Spike left it to Angel to help Willow turn on her side and bend her right knee. Spike knelt above the leg resting on the floor and wrapped the other leg around his hip. This time, when he slipped in, his cock reached right to her g-spot and Willow cried out at the overwhelming new marvel. She didn’t know what he was doing or how and she didn’t care. All she knew is that every time he got fully inside her, bells and whistles and fireworks and trumpets and brass bands went off inside of her womb.

“Oh – oh – yeah – holy – oh – god! – Spike –“ each new thrust brought a new incomprehensible word and Spike delighted in the sounds.

“Spike! – god! – Spike! – god! –“ she was down to only two words now and Spike could feel her cunt tightening around him.

He looked down on her passion filled face. All the words he’d fought so hard to forget came rushing back to him. Words that would prove him to be the ponce he always knew he carried still – deep inside. Words like ‘resplendent’ and ‘reverence’; ‘satin’ and ‘elegance’; ‘mellifluous’ and ‘benevolent’ – and yes, ‘effulgent’. He’d never seen anything so –

“God, you’re beautiful, Willow.”

His voice once again took her over. Her body contracted and exploded and the leg that was around his hip squeezed him so tight it left bruises on his skin. Her hips rose as she came and the tightness he had felt before was nothing compared to now.

His orgasm had begun as soon as hers had, but this new seizing of his cock started another, more intense climax that he had no idea his body was capable of performing.

He lost his balance and fell forward, catching his weight on his elbows just in time. Tremors ran through both their bodies and Spike rested his forehead against Willow’s shoulder as they both panted their way back down to this plane of existence.

Spike felt his dick slip out of her with an undignified ‘plop’. He fell to the floor at her side and pulled her to him. He had so many things he wanted to say. How he felt about her; how afraid he was of the changing future; his fears of failing or disappointing her. Instead, he just kissed her. Soft and chaste as his arms wrapped around her. She got the message.

Spike opened his eyes and saw Angel looking down on them.

“Well, get down here. Or you waitin’ for an engraved invitation?”

Angel got down there. He lay at Willow’s back, snuggling in behind her. His face rubbed against her neck, his lips sending exhilarating vibrations down her spine. His arm went around her waist.

While all of this had been the most emotional and erotic event in her life, she was still confused about it all. It wasn’t every day that a girl had sex with two sexy and beautiful men. She thought about Spike and Angel and the kiss they’d shared; the way Angel’s hands had run over Spike’s body.

‘Then again, maybe a girl can have sex with two men everyday. – OH! Bad Willow!’ She smiled to herself over the thought.

Spike, without opening his eyes, asked, “What’re you thinkin’ about, Love?” His eyes popped open. There was that different spelling again! Only this time he’d said it.

‘Oh well. Better get used to it, mate,’ he thought.

“Just thinkin’,” Willow sing-songed.

“’Bout what?”

“Um, how does this – how do we – I mean, the three of we – how do we…?” She left the sentence hanging open.

“You’re mine!” Spike said with a scowl. He looked at Angel snuggled peacefully against Red’s back. “Poof can’t do the nasty without losing his soul.” He suddenly felt sorry for Angel. But then, he was still coming down from the most incredible orgasm he’d ever had.

“Don’t know. Guess we can give him a sympathy wank every now and again.”

“I heard that.” Angel growled.

“Meant ya to, ya poof.”

“Spike,” Willow asked, her voice sounding very small, “If you really do – I mean, if you meant what you said – or rather, what Angel said -“

“He loves you, Willow. Count on it.” Angel said into her back.

“If you do – do that,” she said to Spike, “How – I mean, my friends – Buffy’ll stake you!” Another tear slipped out and Spike was beginning to think this girl cried at the drop of a hat. Not that he minded.

“I can’t lose you, not when I’ve just found you.”

Spike smiled at that. It looked like his future was rosy indeed.

“Do we have to tell ‘er?” Spike asked.

“Yes,” Angel answered. Willow just nodded.

“Don’t know. Could pretend I’ve come over all souful, I s’pose. Worked for Peaches.”

“Spike, as soon as she gets on your nerves and you scream at her and call her a ‘bloody bitch’, she’s going to know you don’t have a soul.”

“I’ll have to spend time with the bloody bitch?”

Angel smiled. “You will if you want to spend time with Willow.” Willow nodded again.

Spike looked forlorn. “No idea. Any suggestions?”

“We could – no, that won’t work,” Willow’s brain was going ten thousand miles a minute, trying to find a way to keep Spike alive long enough to make sure these feelings she was feeling were real. And if they were, he’d have to stay alive even longer.

“Well, you’d have to stop killing people; she’d never allow that.”

“That one was a gimme, Love. But how are we gonna convince her I’ve had a change of heart – since I don’t have one?”

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking.” Her hands unconsciously went to her mouth and she stared biting her nails. Spike took her hands and held them in his, keeping them occupied by sucking on them one by one.

“OH!” Willow shot up. “It’s – well – it’s kind of a strange idea, but,” she looked up at Spike bashfully, “And you’re not gonna like it.”

“I’ll like leaving you even less.”

She put on a brilliant smile for that one.

“Well, I read once that during World War II, the US government experimented with these behavior modification chips. They thought they could program people to become perfect killing machines. Maybe we can convince everyone that some nefarious government agency has been capturing demons and implanting them with behavior modification chips – only you know, sort of an anti-killer instead of a killer.”

She waited in the silence for his reaction. It would mean he’d never be able to kill again or Giles and everybody would know she’d lied to them.

The first snort of laughter came from Angel behind her. Spike’s guffaws followed close behind.

She folded her arms over her chest and pouted. ‘Okay, it’s kind of far-fetched, but these things really did exist at one time.’

Spike was the first to comment. “Pet, I love you, I really do,” she preened at that, “but that has got to be the lamest thing I’ve ever heard.” Her face fell. “Even that daft bint of a slayer isn’t stupid enough to believe that one. I mean, its not like I could prove it. I just waltz in and say, “Guess what? Spike’s had a visit to the vet and now he can’t play with the other puppies anymore?” He laughed again. “She’d want to cut open me head to see it for herself! Or maybe- maybe you were gonna pretend I’d tried to attack you in your dorm room one night and suddenly had my brain fried by some invisible piece of silicon and wiring? You think she’d take just your word for it?” He was still laughing, but he noticed that Angel wasn’t.

Angel looked up at him. “You know, that might just work.”

~~~~~~~~~

Willow opened her dorm room door and smiled when she saw Spike standing on the other side of it. “Come in, Spike,” she invited without hesitation.

Truth to tell, he hadn’t been entirely certain she’d let him in. She had no reason to trust him. Just his word. And it had been so bloody long since anyone he cared about had taken his word for anything that he forgot that such a thing could happen.

“Hey, Red,” he said, stepping tentatively over the threshold. As soon as the door closed behind her he grabbed her and twirled her around before pulling her tight. “Miss me?”

“Mmmm,” she moaned through his welcoming kiss. “Oh yes. It’s been,” she looked at her radio, “seventy-three whole minutes since I’ve seen you.”

Spike started peeling her outer shirt off, trying to get to the tank top underneath. His hands froze and he asked, “When’s Peaches due with Slutty?”

Willow smiled and playfully slapped his arm. “Stop calling her that! If he hurries her through patrol like he said he was going to do, they’ll be here around ten thirty.”

Spike calculated. “Seventeen minutes.” He went back to peeling off her shirt. “That’s doable.”

“Spike!” Willow giggled and pulled away from him. “Stop it! I’m supposed to look terrified and afraid when they get here, not like I’ve just been…” she still couldn’t believe what she’d been doing – and with SPIKE! Not to mention ANGEL! There was no way she could come out and say it.

“Shagged?” he prompted, nimble fingers pulling the yellow cotton shirt from her body. “Deflowered?” he asked as those same fingers ran under the hem of her orange flowered tank top. “Screwed?,” came the next suggestion as the tank went over her head. “Boned?”, “Humped?” and “Drilled?” came in quick succession as he divested her of bra, jeans and panties. Each word came out with a seductive purr and sexy glint in his eyes.

He gently pushed her backwards and she fell onto her bed, laughing. He looked at the clock. Fifteen minutes. Not his ideal amount of time but he’d done it in less.

He looked at Willow. No man should ever be made to have to rush through her. But he didn’t have time to debate the issue. He reached for his zipper.

“Boffed? Pumped? Banged?” he continued as he lost all of his clothing with such amazing speed that it had to be mystical in origin.

He prowled up the bed toward her wearing nothing but a lecherous smirk. He raised an eyebrow. “Cock-knocked?” She giggled. He let his lips tickle her neck. “Fucked?” he whispered in her ear.

“Mmmmm,” she agreed and raised her mouth to meet his. He kissed her quick but then pulled back.

“Much as I’d love to let this linger, Red, we don’t have time.” He looked at the clock again, “Thirteen minutes.” His hand went right to her cunt as his lips wrapped around a nipple.

“Oooooh,” She moaned as her body turned to jello.

Spike smiled to find his hand was already slick with her. He knew he had to be quick but he couldn’t resist just one taste. He slid down her body and slid his tongue inside her warm pussy. His eyes drifted closed; what she did to him every time he touched her was blowing his mind. He’d almost swear she’d bewitched him.

He pulled up onto his knees and flipped her over onto hers. In this position, he could get deeper inside of her and use his hands more easily on the rest of her body. He wasn’t going to come without her - and he was damned sure going to come before he had to spend the rest of the night dealing with the bleedin’ Scooby gang.

As he sheathed himself inside her, he let her heat and tightness take over his senses for just a second before he started concentrating on her pleasure.

“Mmm, Red,” he told her, pushing inside and letting his hands drift over her back. “Find a comfortable position and hold on, Baby.” His hands gripped her hips and Willow discovered that he hadn’t been kidding when he’d said ‘hold on’.

“Oh!”

Every…

“Yeah!”

Thrust…

“Spike!”

Was…

“God!”

Hitting…

“YES!”

That…

“More!”

Magic…

“Please!”

Spot.

“Please – please – please – yes! – OH!” She was chanting words; she wasn’t sure what she was saying exactly, by it kept Spike doing whatever he was doing that was bringing her closer and closer to the goal. Anything, as long as HE. NEVER. STOPPED.

“Feel so good, Baby,” he told her. He was oh-so-very-fuckin-close and he needed to take her with him. He knew she liked the sound of his voice so he just started talking, hoping that something intelligible came out that she wanted to hear.

“That’s it, Red. Right there, Sweetness. Oh, love this, yeah. Love the way you feel, the way you move, what you do to me. Magic, Baby. I swear you’re like magic around me.”

One hand gripped tightly to her hip while the other one slid around her body to work on her clit.

“Fuck yeah! Gonna cum, Baby. Can’t stop it. Cum for me, Love. Just clamp that sweet pussy up around me and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

His voice did what it always did to her. It made her forget everything in the world except him. There was nothing and no one but her and Spike and Angel and anything she did – anything they did – was acceptable. She didn’t have to be shy or sweet or even nice. When he was inside her, loving her, talking to her, she became one thing and one thing only.

Spike’s.

He howled through his orgasm. “Fuck, Pet, you’re gonna squeeze it off!”

She lost every bit of resilience and collapsed onto the bed. Since she’d been sustaining him, he fell on top of her. He settled into her, snuggling his head between her shoulder blades.

But…

“Slayer’s close,” he said, jumping up.

“OH MY GOD!” Willow cried, brought abruptly crashing back to earth. She dove for the clothes he’d thrown so carelessly on the floor in his haste.

She didn’t spare him a glance as she quickly dressed and ran a brush through her hair.

“How’s this?” she asked.

Spike looked up, tucking his t-shirt into his jeans.

“Bra’s on the floor,” he told her as he reached for his coat.

“OH!” She grabbed it and threw it under her bed.

“Almost here. Ready love?” he asked.

She nodded.

He quickly kissed her on the cheek and said, “Sorry, Love, you know I have to.”

He picked her up and as gently as he could - while still making it look real - threw her across the room to land in a heap on her bed. The covers went sliding and her foot hit her lamp and knocked it onto the floor. She looked up and nodded, she was all right. He jumped on top of her, breaking the bed frame in the process and the world collapsing out from under her really did frighten Willow.

She screamed.

Spike swept down at her neck, trying to pretend as if she were just another meal he intended to drain. As soon as his mouth touched the soft skin of her neck, he roared an agonized scream and jumped back, clutching his head.

The dorm room door flew open and Buffy and Angel ran in, Buffy with a stake at the ready.

“WILLOW?!” She saw Spike and jumped to the obvious conclusion – the one they’d wanted her to jump to – that he’d just tried to bite Willow. She aimed her stake and threw it in a direct line toward his heart.

Luckily, Angel, knowing Buffy’s fighting style in a crisis situation, was ready. He grabbed the stake out of the air before it got half way to his childe.

Buffy turned on him, “Angel!”

But, having rehearsed this with Willow, Angel had his answers ready.

“Buffy, stop and look. Something’s not right. Willow’s not hurt! Spike is the one in pain here!”

The slayer stepped over to her friend and roommate, checking her neck. Willow had made sure she’d worn a top that covered the bite she’d begged Spike to give her the other night.

“I’m fine, Buffy, really. He – he – I was studying – and I heard a knock. I thought it might be Tara, from Wicca group? – so I said ‘Come in’ ya know? And it was – it was Spike and he said he was looking for you. But you weren’t here,” that little line had been Angel’s idea, figuring that Buffy would feel guiltier if Willow’d gotten attacked because she’d been a substitute for Buffy. Willow snuck a glance at Buffy – it looked like Angel knew his stuff.

Spike, having played his scene, sat himself on Buffy’s bed, waiting for his next cue. Angel stood in front of him, just in case Buffy had any more stakes up her sleeve.

“But he didn’t hurt me, Buffy,” Willow went on. “He started to – he – he jumped on me,” she had a really hard time not smiling as she said that, but she managed. “Then he went for my neck – but he couldn’t do it.” She smiled, “He had trouble, um, performing.”

“HEY!” Spike protested; that hadn’t been part of the script. Angel coughed into his fist.

“Well, you did. You didn’t bite me! You just cried out and grabbed your head and ran over there like a little girl.”

Not line for line, but it got the message across. Willow knew she was in for it when Spike got her alone later; she couldn’t wait!

Now it was Angel’s turn. He, unlike Willow, had no trouble at all lying to Buffy.

“You say he couldn’t – “ Angel hmphed over the word ‘perform’ – “bite you?” Buffy was about to protest that she didn’t care whether or not the action had been finished, it was the attack that was going to get Spike staked.

“Buffy, wait. I can handle Spike.”

Spike glared at Angel’s back and made a face where Buffy couldn’t see him.

“Spike,” Angel said with great compassion and turning to face his spoiled rotten over-acting childe, “What happened? Are you all right?”

“Is HE all right?” Buffy yelled. “He was the attacker. It’s Willow who’s the attackee! Ask her if she’s all right! She’ll never be all right,” Buffy answered for Willow before the question was even asked. And in spite of Willow having already said she was fine.

“She’ll be traumatized for life! She’ll never be able to feel safe, she’ll be frightened by every –“

Angel looked over his shoulder at her. What the hell did he ever see in her?

“Buffy?” he said, interrupting her tirade, “Do you mind?”

Buffy shut up. Mostly because she couldn’t believe Angel had just dismissed her to attend to his evil, murdering son – childe - whatever!

“What happened Spike?” Angel asked.

Spike effected the much-practiced countenance of a vampire who’d just had his bean fried.

“Don’t know, Sire.”

The trio had decided to stress Angel and Spike’s relationship rather heavily during the initial conversations about Spike’s “condition”. The thought was that if Spike were in trouble, he’d naturally go to his sire, and Angel, having a soul, would help Spike to realize that he could be a useful, productive member of the Good Guys, thus giving him a raison d’etre. And if Spike’s unsouled status still bothered any of the Scoobies, it would be assumed that – as Spike’s sire – Angel would be able to control him. Spike had scoffed, rather loudly, at that; but saw that there was sense in letting them assume such nonsense was possible.

“I went to have a little nibble – was kinda peckish waitin’ for the Slayer to show up. And suddenly, ‘Wham! Bam! Thank you Grizelda, lightening bolts are goin’ off in my head.” He rubbed his still (supposedly) tender noggin.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Angel, you don’t believe this lame-o, do you? Is this supposed to be some new vampire cancer that’s going around?” She gave the idea some thought. “Would sure make my job easier.”

Spike ignored her and looked up at Angel as if something suddenly occurred to him. “I’ll bet it was those soldier gits.”

This got Buffy’s attention. “What soldier gi- What soldiers?”

Once again, he directed his comments to his sire. “Outside New Orleans, I was. Got zapped from behind by some electronic whozits and when I wake up, I’m in some sterile, white jail. Just white walls, white floor, white ceiling and glass doors with fuzzy electric currents goin’ through ‘em. There were other demons there. Another vamp, bloke in the cell next to me, tells me not to drink the bag o’ blood that’s in the corner because its drugged. Said others had gotten too hungry, drank the stuff and when they passed out some lab coats would come take ‘em and do experiments on ‘em.”

“Oh this is ridiculous!” Buffy said, going to her dresser and pulling another stake out of the drawer.

“Buffy!” Willow admonished. “You can’t just kill him in cold blood! He couldn’t bite me, he’s… well, he’s helpless.”

“He tried to kill you!” Buffy reminded her.

“Wasn’t gonna kill ‘er,” Spike protested. He gave Willow a leer that made his intentions VERY clear. “Just wanted to take a little taste.” Luckily, Buffy was still looking at Willow and missed the heated look. Angel slapped Spike on the arm and told him in a very quiet voice to behave himself.

“Maybe we should call Giles,” Angel suggested out loud.

In due course, the watcher was called and the merry band made the trek to Giles’ apartment.

~~~~~

“No.” Spike took one look at the chains Buffy was holding and backed up. He backed up until he was standing behind Angel.

“Buffy,” Angel said in an exasperated tone, “We don’t need those; I can handle him.” He took a closer look. “Are those mine?”

Buffy looked ashamed and tried to hide the purloined shackles behind her back. “I want those back!” Angel went and took them away from her.

“Yes, well, do you think we could all sit and discuss the - erm, Spike situation?” Giles asked the room at large.

Buffy rolled her eyes and sat in the upholstered chair. Xander sat on the floor, leaning against the footstool. Willow took a seat on the couch as Giles sat in his favorite reading chair. Spike took the seat in the middle of the couch next to Willow and Angel sat on the other end.

This too had been discussed in great detail. While Spike didn’t think he’d like to be sitting at all during this discussion, Willow and Angel thought it best if he sat in the middle of the couch, flanked on each side by one of them. That way, everyone would be in front of them, no chance for a sneak attack from the stern – and Willow and Angel would be in range should anyone make a direct assault from the front.

Spike said he could take care of himself, he didn’t need any bodyguards, thank you bloody much, but when his protectors spent a good hour coddling him and admiring him and showing him just how much they’d miss him should anything untoward happen, he’d relented and agreed to behave and sit on the couch.

“You say he – “ Giles decided to be brave and address Spike directly, “I mean to say, you – erm, experienced a blinding headache when you tried to – erm – kill Willow?”

“No,” Spike said, reigning in his control. “I erm- experienced a blinding headache when I tried to – erm – give the witch a hickey she’d live to remember for a good long time.”

Xander giggled and everyone glared at him.

“He, uh, didn’t anybody else think he sounded just like the G-man?”

Apparently no one else did because no one else said anything; but when everyone else looked away, Willow gave her friend a sly wink.

“You-” Giles was continuing, “You say you didn’t mean to kill her?”

“No, ya git. Wouldn’t do to drain the witch, she’s the only one of the lot of you I can stand. But I had some time to kill waiting for the slayer to get home so I could kill her.”

“And why exactly, did you want to kill Buffy?”

Spike looked at him like he was an escaped mental patient. For that matter, so did Xander. Even he understood that one.

“G-man, vampire plus slayer equals dead somebody. All vampires want to kill the slayer, its sort of like their job.”

Angel gave him a pointed look. “Present souled vampires excluded,” Xander corrected.

“Yes, Xander,” Giles agreed reluctantly, “But what I meant to say is why now? Why come back here at all? Given his,” he returned to addressing his comments to Spike, “Given your albeit reluctant truce with Buffy and your willingness last year to release your – hostages – once you sobered up, not to mention working together with Buffy and Angel to defeat those vampires that attacked the three of you in the magic shop. Buffy even informs me that you were of great service in helping her and Angel sort out their – confused feelings – about their relationship. So why now? Why come back here to kill Buffy? What madness could possibly have brought about this decision?”

Spike held his hand up and examined his chipped nails. “I got bored.”

Buffy had heard enough. “Giles, this is stupid. Vamp attack, Buffy kill. That’s how it works. I don’t know what the Bleached Wonder is trying to pull with this lame “neutered vampire” routine but I say we let me get my slay on and put Spike out of our misery. He probably just realized he couldn’t take me in a fair fight and so he’s working this hare-brained scheme to get me to let down my guard.”

“No, Buffy,” Giles told her calmly, “You’re not going to slay Spike, not tonight. I think he could be very useful to us.” He looked at Spike and seemed to be trying to figure something out. “At least, once he tells us the truth, that is.”

‘Oh, gods, we’ve been found out!’

Three sets of eyes tried hard not to look guilty.

Xander said it first, “Huh?”

Giles, sensing that Spike was not going to willingly give in, decided to see if he could earn Spike’s, maybe not trust, but possibly reluctant respect. Spike could be a valuable asset to the team if he could be trusted and confiding the truth of the situation to them all would do wonders toward earning the group’s trust.

“Xander, have you ever heard of the German Arcane Offensive?”

“Who now?”

Giles took off his glasses and began polishing them as he continued. “It was a little known department within the SS. The Germans, during the inception of World War II, began to test a behavior modification chip that their scientists had developed. It was supposed to be used to create super soldiers out of ordinary citizens during times of war. When the war was over, the chip could be removed and the soldiers would go back to their normal lives, all malevolent tendencies necessary for war gone from their minds.

“But someone with the German hierarchy got the idea that an army could be built from demons. Ultimate killing machines that could be controlled through the chip, creating an unstoppable army for the Third Reich. Once the war was over, the chips could be modified to turn the demons into – well, something approximating docile domestic pets.”

He had the rapt attention of everyone in the room.

“But before the chips could be manufactured, the plans disappeared and the scientists who developed the chip were found brutally murdered, torn to shreds.”

Someone gasped.

“It was rumored, while I was at university and studying the occult, that the Americans had gotten hold of the plans somehow. But the behavior modification chip was never heard from again.” He turned to Spike. “Until now.”

Spike had the intelligence to look like this was all no surprise to him.

“So tell me, Spike,” Giles asked, smug expression in place, “How is it that you received this chip that prevents you from feeding off of humans more than halfway across the country and yet you didn’t know you had it until today when you tried to bite Willow?”

Oh, shit. They hadn’t thought of that.

Spike studied his feet, not knowing what to say, but unwilling to admit to his lie.

“I put it before the court,” Giles went on, “that you did know.”

WHAT?!

“I say that you came to Sunnydale – to Angel in particular and yes, to our little group of humans, specifically because of the chip. Because you discovered that you could no longer feed off of humans, no longer function as a whole vampire-“

Spike took offense to that.

“And you lost your purpose. You, who have never been alone, have always been in control of not only your own destiny but that of others in your protection. And left with nowhere else to turn, and knowing no other life, you came to Sunnydale because you knew that here you could find a purpose. Your sire, who albeit has a soul instead of a chip, has begun a new life, among new friends - and is living a fulfilling life here on the Hellmouth. I propose that you came here with the intent of gaining your sire’s assistance in helping you deal with your affliction.”

He sat back, waiting for Spike’s confession to the truth of his obviously correct conclusion.

“That’s true!” Willow cried out. All eyes, including Spike’s, turned to her.

Willow patted Spike’s arm. “I know I promised not to say anything, Spike, please don’t be mad at me. But Giles guessed and there’s no reason not to tell the truth anymore.”

She turned to her dupes – I mean friends.

“Last year, when he kidnapped me – Xander was unconscious – Spike and I talked – a lot. He told me all about Dru and I told him all about Oz and we found out we liked a lot of the same things and we became, not friends, but we trusted each other. So he came to the dorm tonight to talk to me. He told me about the chip and what had happened and how he was hoping that Angel would help him.”

None of this was true of course, but now that it was out there, it would work in their favor when their relationship was revealed later on.

“He and Angel hadn’t gotten along last time they’d seen each other and Spike didn’t know how to approach him.”

Angel sat and marveled at her ingenuity. She was turning Giles’ completely mistaken conclusions into the answer to all their problems.

Spike sat and marveled at how hard his dick got when his girl showed off her brains.

“I asked him if he was sure about the chip. I’d thought maybe it was like a spell and maybe it only worked if he was trying to kill someone. So I told him to try to bite me. He did and well, Buffy and Angel saw the result.”

Giles harrumphed; yet another instance when he’d demonstrated his superior intellect.

“I told you.”

Buffy sat back, her last hope of getting to stake Spike now gone.

Spike just sat with his head in his hands. He couldn’t control his mirth – or his penis. He had to get Willow and Angel out of here right quick.

Xander, misunderstanding his seemly devastated countenance, sat up and patted Spike’s shoulder consolingly.

“It’s all right, Junior. Fighting on the side of the Force isn’t all bad – we have donuts!”

~~~~~

It was agreed that Spike should move into the mansion with Angel. Angel even put up a rather convincing token protest. No one but Willow knew he’d already been living there for half a week.

Spike put up a mock front of still being angry at his sire for the harsh treatment he’d received at the hands of The Second Coming of Angelus. Angel, having once been run through with hot pokers on Spike’s orders, had no difficulty pretending to be just as aggravated with his unruly childe.

This led to the need, in Giles opinion, for a part-time moderator to help Spike and Angel learn how to communicate effectively with each other in their new roles as roommates and colleagues. A vote was taken whilst Willow was on the commode and everyone who didn’t want the job raised their hand. As Willow was the only one not present to raise her hand, she was elected.

It was in this capacity that Buffy sent her to the mansion the following afternoon. Buffy wanted her to spy on Spike and make sure he wasn’t planning something grisly behind their backs. Just because he could no longer kill them himself didn’t mean he wasn’t planning to get someone else to do it for him.

Willow knocked on the door, for propriety’s sake, and then entered the house. Not finding anyone downstairs, she went upstairs. She found them asleep in Spike’s bed and it took her no time at all to shed her clothes – after all, they were both naked and she didn’t want to look out of place.

Angel sighed and pulled her into his embrace when she climbed in.

“Mmm, you smell nice.”

“Mmm, so do you,” she told him, then giggled, “You smell like Spike sex.”

Angel, without opening his eyes, jiggled his eyebrows and grinned. Willow laughed again.

“If you two aren’t going to be quiet so I can sleep then somebody’d better get over here and shag me,” Spike grumbled from under his pillow.

Willow raised her hand, “Oh! Me first!”

“I have a better idea,” Angel whispered in her ear.

He took one large hand and placed in on the top of her head. And then he pushed her down and under the covers until her face was in the vicinity of his crotch. Willow didn’t need to be commanded twice.

With an excited mewl, she went to work on Angel’s ‘little Angel’. She’d never done much of this before this week, but in the last couple of days, she’d gotten lots of practice.

Spike and Angel were excellent teachers, telling her what felt best and making suggestions for ways to make this easier and more comfortable for her. Her mouth was way too small to be able to completely take either of them. In fact, once she’d seen them full size, she thought of it as purely fractional and was afraid at first that she wouldn’t be able to please them this way.

It hadn’t been enjoyable at first; they were too large or she was too small and she overdid it trying to make them fit. The size difference also meant that she couldn’t administer the long, elegant strokes they used to swallow each other.

Spike had showed her how to use her wet hand to make up the difference. Angel had showed her which spots were most sensitive and it turned out that most of them were around the head, meaning that her smaller mouth was more than sufficient for what really got them off.

The first morning they’d been together, she’d experimented and found that her small teasing licks and bites up and down the staff were just as pleasing as the longer strokes they gave each other. And for some reason, when she spent time giving one of them a blowjob, the other would get off just watching her do it.

One major advantage to having vampire lovers is that they seem to be exceedingly orally-fixated. Or maybe that’s just Angel and Spike.

Almost every moment they spent together, at least one of them had something in their mouth.

Right now, she was that fortunate someone.

She sailed her tongue around top of the staff, right under the crown, like Angel had showed her. She remembered just how he’d demonstrated – using Spike as his guinea pig.

She now copied the things he’d taught her that day. She took the head into her mouth, swirling it around on her tongue. She suckled slowly, giving the precum time to reach the surface. When she tasted the first drop on her tongue, she whimpered in delight and rubbed her thighs together, feeling her own moisture coming to the surface.

She abandoned the tip for a moment and worked her way down the shaft, opening her mouth wide and running her teeth over and around the responsive surface. Every pass of her teeth made her new toy inflate. When her tongue licked its way back up to the head, it looked as if it might burst.

Strong arms pulled her up and with practiced ease, Angel sat her on his stomach. He felt the moisture pool on his belly, meaning she was just as ready for him as he was for her.

“Ride me,” he affectionately enjoined in a voice dripping with honey.

She’d never heard him speak like this before Wednesday and it had startled her the first time she heard it – and left her weak-kneed. But it was a tone she was becoming acquainted with. This was the voice of Angelus at his seductive best. She could understand now how he’d been so good at getting everyone to do anything he wanted them to.

Not that she ever wanted to meet Angelus again, but she sure didn’t mind that voice. Low and deep and filled with passionate promise.

With Angel’s help, she lifted up and moved until she was positioned over his waiting cock. Her hands came together on his muscled chest and she used them for leverage to ease herself ever so slowly down onto him.

She’d discovered some intriguing things about the two of them in the last couple of days, things she wouldn’t have expected.

Spike, for all his hyperactive bluster and restless motion, liked to take his time making love to her. Every action, when they weren’t being rushed by the clock, was drawn out and deliberate. The intensity of him took her breath away.

His touch, his gaze, his every sexual movement was an Event that shattered her safe “geek girl” world and made her rethink everything she thought she knew about herself. A cataclysmic journey into this new land where there was nothing but Spike and his overwhelming passion for her. He left no part of her untouched. He attacked her senses and left her feeling invaded.

And loved.

It was wonderful.

And terrifying.

So, to retaliate, she liked, on occasion, to push him to do things a little quicker, a little more playfully, less like he was conquering her world. He didn’t mind a bit – as he proved when he insisted on schtupping her fifteen minutes before Buffy was due home.

Angel, on the other hand, liked it fast and rough with a side of ‘I’m in control here’. This was, however, the first time he’d actually been inside her – they’d done everything else though. Up until now, she’d only experienced his dominant fucking technique as a spectator sport while he’d had sex with Spike. She was trying to control the situation now because she didn’t think her human female anatomy could take the delicious punishment he’d put Spike’s ass through.

She felt him about to break and try to thrust up into her. She stopped moving and shook her head, “Uh uh, Angel. You move, I climb over to Spike.”

That stopped him.

“You’re really a bitch sometimes, you know that,” he teased with a smile.

She slapped his chest, “That’s witch, with a ‘w’, get it right.”

That earned a chuckle from Spike.

“Oh yeah?” Angel growled good-naturedly. He pulled her off of him and jumped out of bed before flipping her onto her back. He slid her around so that her ass was at the end of the bed and then pushed back into her with such force that she almost got whiplash.

“Think you can take me, Little One?” He pumped himself in and out of her quickly and with force. She loved it, she really did, this show of dominance that Angel seemed to need to display. He was a powerful force – in more ways than one – when he was focusing all of his attention on one person.

But she was only a small human and Spike thought she looked like she was about to break n half.

He climbed out of bed and laid a hand on his sire’s back.

“Hey,” he said in a soft, gentle voice that was SO soft and gentle it was hard to believe it had come out of the mouth of William the Bloody.

He kept the hand on Angel’s back while the other one wrapped around him to find Willow’s abdomen. His hand slid down until he found the wetness he was seeking and he borrowed some of it and returned to Angel. He used it to lubricate his fingers, easing his way inside, stretching Angel until he was sufficiently prepared.

This did two things. Made Angel’s ass ready to take Spike’s cock – and it also took Angel’s mind off of fucking Willow so hard she broke.

Spike pushed his way inside of Angel slowly and carefully.

“Goin’ slow, Angel,” he told him, running hands up and down Angel’s back. Angel held himself still inside of Willow until Spike was buried deep.

Spike took a breath, “Don’t wanna hurt the girl,” he said soothingly. “Know its been a while, but think you’d remember how its done.”

In the last three days, they’d all made love in several different positions, but this was the first time Angel had attempted intercourse with Willow. No one wanted a repeat performance of two years ago. Angel had decided that fucking Willow was just one particular pleasure he was going to have to go without – for all their sakes.

But Spike had assured him last night that he’d come up with a fool-proof way to keep the soul intact. He told Angel that if the mood struck, he should go for it; always remembering of course that Willow was Spike’s - first and foremost - and that Spike was only sharing her out of the goodness of his dead heart.

So now here they were and Angel was a little… enthusiastic.

But that was all right because Spike was here to help. Not to mention getting his first ever opportunity to fuck Angelus.

Spike knew that Angel thought that Spike fucking him for the first time was Spike’s soul-saving solution. It wasn’t. It was just Spike taking advantage of the situation.

Angel, having never been – penetrated - before, just knew he wasn’t going to like it. But for the chance at sex with Willow, he’d endure it. And then Spike had actually pushed that long hard cock of his inside and -

“Oh mighty god!” Angel groaned, eyes rolling back in his head.

Spike smiled. ‘S’allright, Angel. I’m gonna set the pace, yeah? Can’t have you damaging our girl.”

Spike withdrew a little and Angel felt his knees go weak. But he followed along and pulled back from Willow. When Spike pushed back in, he did as well.

Spike – being Spike – and knowing about Angel’s ‘hard and fast’, domineering style of boning, spent some time taking it nice and easy – just to drive Angel ‘round the bend. He could feel the tension in Angel. He knew that Angel was enjoying being fucked for the first time. He also knew that Angel wanted to pound Willow for all he was worth.

As Willow’s cries got more fevered and Angel’s grunts got more neanderthal, Spike sped up until they were all moving and thrusting in rhythm at a pace close to what Angel usually enjoyed.

The slide of skin on skin on skin, body into body into body, childe into sire into woman took on a life of its own.

Willow dug her fingers into the sheets and held on. Her legs were wrapped around Angel’s hips and she could feel Spike’s lithe body as he moved.

She felt Angel’s fingers digging into the flesh of her hips. For one brief moment it occurred to her that she’d never be able to explain those bruises but then sensation took over and she didn’t care anymore.

She felt Spike’s hands, one grasping Angel’s hip just as tightly, the other wrapped around her calf. This was just one of the things she had never expected out this. Not the ‘touching her’ part. That she expected. The touching her while they were all together part.

She’d never dreamed she’d be able to have sex with two people at once, she wasn’t made that way. The first night didn’t count, she’d been VERY drunk. But the next morning, when she’d started to sober up and had been embarrassed and ashamed by what she’d – what they’d done. She told them she couldn’t do that again, she couldn’t have casual sex with more than one someone. To her, sex was a connection, a meeting of two people who wanted to share something intimate with each other.

“Why two people?” Spike had asked.

“What?” she didn’t understand the question.

“Why just two people? Why can’t three people have a ‘connection’; why can’t three people ‘share something intimate’ together?”

She’d rolled her eyes, thinking he was teasing her and started to walk away.

“No, Love, I’m serious. Why can’t it be three people?”

“Because!” she’d answered.

Spike looked at her. “Yeah? And?”

She looked to Angel for help but he was pretending to be asleep. ‘Chicken.’

She didn’t know if she could explain it. Finally, she remembered a moment the night before that would show him what she meant.

“Like, last night,” she began, “When you and I were... –and then Angel, he… with you and… -well he’s your sire and he said it’s a rule. So I didn’t say anything. But I was kinda… I was feeling something – with you – that connection. And then Angel was there and he was doing – stuff – and it wasn’t you and me and Angel, it was you and me and you and Angel.”

“So… you didn’t like it?” Spike asked, confused. He knew she had enjoyed herself.

“Well – that’s not what I mean. I enjoyed the ~sex~,” she whispered even though no one was around to hear her except the person she’d been having ~sex~ with for hours. “It’s just that I was enjoying the – connection – even more.”

Spike couldn’t help the enormous grin that made its way to his mouth. He had her, she loved him – or would very soon. But first he had to fix this ‘connection’ problem.

“So, you’re saying you didn’t feel connected to Angelus during that?”

“Angel, but yes, that’s it exactly.”

“I see,” he said, thinking. Finally, he leaned over and slapped Angel’s arm.

“Wake up, ya ponce, I need you to bugger my arse!”

“WHAT?! NO!” Willow had cried. “Spike, no – that’s not! I just said –“

Spike interrupted her. “Yeah. Heard ya.”

Angel was sitting up. He’d heard the whole thing. He knew what Spike wanted him to do.

And so, after much cajoling and convincing to get Willow to agree to “just one more time, I promise – unless ya like it”, they’d repeated the performance. Only this time, Angel spent some time kissing and cuddling with Willow first. When Spike moved in to take over the foreplay, Angel had never stopped touching her, caressing and whispering sweet words to both her and ‘William’. When Spike entered her, Angel kissed her. When Angel entered Spike, one of Angel’s arms was supporting his body, with the other, Angel’s hand was cupping Willow’s face. As they’d moved and made love – they’d made love. All three of them, all together, all touching and kissing and telling each other how they felt and what this meant to them.

Willow’d never made another complaint and every time they were intimate, it was the three of them together. Well, except for that quickie in the dorm room. But other than that, it was all three of them.

Including now, Angel’s first time at making love to a woman since that disastrous night with Buffy.

And it was the three of them together, all touching – all connecting – with each other. Even though she couldn’t see Spike, his hand on her leg let her know that he was there with her and she was with him, being a part of his experience.

Angel was the one who broke first, screaming out in pleasure from the dual sensations of fucking both his lovers at the same time.

Willow followed close behind and Spike, who had thought he was going to be dust if forced to hold off any longer, came as she cried out.

Angel’s knees finally gave and he collapsed on top of Willow. She giggled as Spike pushed Angel to the side and crawled in on Willow’s other side, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

“Wow,” she said as she snuggled into his side.

“Mm hmm,” Spike agreed.

Angel didn’t say anything. Now was the time to put the save-Angel’s-soul plan into effect. Spike leaned over and whispered in Willow’s ear, saying, “On three. One, two –“

And then they said they one thing Spike was sure would prevent Angel from ever being happy –

“Hey, look, it’s Darla!”

Angel, so lost in his happy world, forgot his sire was dust and jumped up, terrified she’d suddenly reappeared to make his unlife hell once again.

Willow and Spike just dissolved into laughter.

~~~~~

All and sundry were due to arrive at Giles abode at the duly appointed hour of eight.

More discussion was needed – apparently – about Spike’s new role as one of the Good Guys. While Giles believed that Spike “wanted” to join the side of right, he was not stupid enough to think that the transition would be an easy one. Or that Spike wouldn’t have major slip-ups. After one hundred years of evil and mayhem, Spike’s sense of right and wrong might be somewhat “ambivalent”, according to their wise leader.

So, with just barely enough time, Willow pulled her two companions from the bed and got ready to meet the Scoobies for a night of stimulating conversation. Spike was hard to convince, but piece by piece, as Willow redressed, Angel explained that if Spike ever wanted to see what was under those lace panties and green fuzzy sweater ever again, he had to get up and join them.

“Unless you’ve realised you don’t really want to be here with me,” Willow said hesitantly.

Spike literally jumped out of bed and swore on Angel’s life that he’d never be late for a Scooby meeting.

Angel didn’t find that very comforting.

As Angel locked the door, Spike put his arm around Willow and pulled her down the walk.

“Ride or walk?” he asked her.

“Walk. I like to walk.”

“Plus, she’s seen the way you drive,” Angel commented snidely.

Willow laughed while Spike glared.

As they reached the sidewalk, Angel drew up to Willow’s other side and put his arm around her as well. A car drove by and Willow jumped, pulling away from both men.

“Oh, no, that was my physics professor!”

“So?” Spike didn’t see the dilemma.

“She just saw me with – with two men on me!”

“So?” was repeated from the same source.

“Spike,” Angel admonished. “She’s embarrassed. Willow’s not used to getting so much attention from men in public – and she’s certainly not used to being caught at it by her teachers.”

Spike pulled her to his side. “Well then, ‘bout time she did get used to it, ‘cause we’re not going anywhere, are we Peaches?”

Angel couldn’t argue with that. He returned his arm to Willow’s shoulder and they walked to the watcher’s apartment.

‘Oh boy, what have I gotten myself into?’

~~~~~

One block from the apartment, Willow stopped.

“Okay, we’re close, everybody uncouple – or uh, untriple.”

Their arms dropped and they made the remainder of the walk as if they were three acquaintances who happened to run into each other on the street.

“Wait,” Spike held out a hand and stopped Willow before she opened the door. He pulled her into a quick but heated kiss and said, “Can’t do this again for three hours.” She smiled. She turned back to the door but before she could open it, Angel pulled her back and gave her a similar kiss. She smiled again. Then she stood and looked up at them.

“Well?” she asked when they didn’t move.

“Oh,” they both said at the same time before moving to each other and giving each other a quick and heated… maybe not so quick. And wow! Very heated. Unlike Willow, they didn’t care if anyone saw *them* kissing. In due course, they broke apart.

“Smells like team spirit,” Spike said with a lascivious wink in Willow’s direction. That’s when she realised that he could ~smell~ how much she’d enjoyed their kiss. And wanted to join them. And find a bed. Or a really big bush.

“Willow?” Angel broke through her reverie. “Inside?”

Willow sighed and the three settled in for a boring night of stupid discussion. Same old, same old.

Giles led the debate, all the obvious topics were discussed and a report was given by Willow that, with her help, Angel and Spike were learning to live harmoniously with only the occasional threat of staking.

About two hours in, when everyone was getting tired and all the pizzas had been consumed, there was a knock on the door. Both vampires were up and across the room before the humans even finished registering the knock.

Angel put his hand on the knob and Spike turned and pointed at Willow. “Stay,” he told her, “We’ll take care of this, remember?”

That’s when she understood who was at the door.

“Oz,” she told the group.

Angel pulled the door open and the new arrival was met by a doorfull of master vampires.

“I’ll give you a three second head start,” Spike told him.

Angel held out a restraining hand. Spike was supposed to be harmless to humans, he couldn’t give himself away.

“Go,” Angel told Oz. “Don’t ever come back to Sunnydale. If you do, you’re dog food.”

“Willow?” Oz called over the men’s shoulders. He couldn’t see her, but he knew she was there.

Willow didn’t say anything. Buffy, Xander and Giles looked at her expectantly, not believing she was sitting there doing nothing while Angel and Spike drove her boyfriend away.

Oz was still calling for her, his voice getting higher and more nervous each time he said her name.

“We broke up,” Willow told the others quietly.

Shocked, Buffy asked when, but Xander got more to the point.

“Does *he* know that?”

Spike heard the question and realized that they’d neglected to inform the wolf that his attentions were no longer wanted, needed or desired.

“She dumped you while you were away. Realized you weren’t man enough for her.” His voice got low and deadly, he didn’t want the others to hear this next part – didn’t want to embarrass Red. But to those who could hear him, there was no mistaking the implication in his voice. “Didn’t like the ‘restrictions’ you put on her. She’s way too much woman for you, Boy. It takes two of us to handle her now. “ He gave a lift to his eyebrow that left no doubts of where things stood, “You get my meaning?”

Oz nodded. He got it all right. The bitch had cheated on him. The whore had broken her vow and fucked the first *things* she could find.

Spike and Angel both saw his eyes and saw his thoughts – almost read his mind and knew exactly what he was thinking.

The double growl was ferocious. Oz saw their faces change and decided now was a good time to get gone. He didn’t want a faithless bitch anyway.

Spike saw the words written across Oz’s mind and leap for him.

Willow screamed out, “Spike!” and stood up, terrified he’d do something that would make Buffy see their lie and stake him. She realized that for the first time she didn’t care what happened to Oz in this. He could go, stay - it made no difference to her. But she couldn’t lose Spike. Or Angel.

When she screamed, Spike remembered what he was now supposed to be and instead of grabbing Oz’s throat and ripping it out, he held his head and screamed as if in pain.

At Spike’s agonized howl, Oz ran even faster.

Angel had to use a hand to cover his grin at Spike’s over-acting. But it seemed to be working.

The gang came running. Buffy couldn’t help but feel sorry for him; the pain he was in seemed greater than anything she thought she’d ever be able to bear. After seeing him suffer like he was, she felt bad for thinking there might be some ulterior motive to his being in Sunnydale. No one should have to endure the torture he was so obviously experiencing.

Not that she wanted him to start killing again, but Angel had convinced her that Spike’s inability to hurt humans could be beneficial to the mission. She put a consoling arm on his back and led him over to the couch.

Xander was sympathetic. “Spike, man, you gotta learn to control that temper around humans. Save it for the demons. I get that Oz did something bad to Wills, but she’s a big girl. She can take care of him herself.” Xander couldn’t help but smile, “Seems as though somebody’s developing a bit of a crush though.” He looked toward Willow, whose face was red.

She wasn’t blushing over his comment however, she was trying very hard not to laugh over their behavior toward the “neutered” Spike.

Giles was solicitous, pouring a brandy for Spike and handing it to him to help ease the pain. Angel looked at Willow and gave her a look that was a sympathetic reminder: ‘Don’t blow it,’ he told her with his eyes. ‘You want Spike here with us, don’t you?’ This sobered her immediately and she took on the role of care-giver as she always had when one of the Scoobies was hurt.

She went to his side and pulled his head against her shoulder, rubbing circles to relieve the presumably horrible pain in his skull. She offered words of comfort and told him that the pain would lessen in time, just be patient. Spike, for his part, wrapped his arms around Willow’s waist and snuggled his cheek in against her breasts.

Xander stood back smiling, as if all of this seemed to confirm his suspicion of a crush.

When Spike thought that the pain would have relieved itself by now, he reluctantly pulled away from Willow and stood, checking his pockets for a cigarette. He found his duster and wriggled his hands around in the pockets, making sure not to jostle the pack of cigarettes in the left hand pocket.

“Need a smoke. Angel, show me where the market is.”

Cuddling with Willow was all well and good but he still had a wolf to kill.

The boys returned about thirty minutes later and the evening wound to a close shortly after that. Willow moved to their side to leave with them, but Angel explained that it was time he taught Spike how to patrol and Willow would probably be better off not being around while Spike learned to follow orders.

As Angel and Spike were taking patrol, Willow and Buffy walked back to the dorm together and Willow found that all her extracurricular vampire playtime had left her feeling more tired that usual and fell almost immediately to sleep.

~~~~~

It was two days later when she saw them again. Once more at Giles apartment, she wanted to ask where they’d been, why they hadn’t been home yesterday. But that would have to wait until after the latest creature feature discussion.

She arrived a bit late, her Logic class had run over and when she got there, Buffy was reading something aloud from the newspaper.

“…in several dozen pieces around the city. Once the first four pieces had been found, Los Angeles police started a quote ‘man hunt’ unquote for the rest of the body. All but the head has been discovered. Hardly any blood was found, making police suspect that this was a ritual sacrifice of some kind. There were marks of severe abuse on the body. The medical examiner’s office has revealed that there is evidence the victim had been tortured by chains, rope, barbed wire and a thin precise blade, possibly a razor blade. The marks and traces of metal found around his genitals indicate that these were ripped from his body with a thin, strong silver chain, possibly a necklace…”

No one saw Spike place his left hand over the silver bracelet on his right wrist.

“…police would like help in discovering not only the last remaining piece of the body but also the identity of the man. He was approximately five feet six inches tall, one hundred fifteen pounds, fair complexion and had brown hair.”

Buffy, at the end of the relevant part of the article, broke off. “So, what do you guys think? Supernatural baddies?”

Giles looked skeptical. “Buffy, this could have been…”

“But!” she broke in, already seeing his objection, “But, no blood!”

“And wouldn’t a baddie have eaten the pieces?” Xander added.

“And no demon’s dumb enough to leave the pieces out where humans could just find it anywhere.,” Angel added. “I mean, dumpsters? How lame is that?”

Buffy scanned the article, “It doesn’t say dump… oh wait, yeah it does, here at the end.”

Angel shrugged, “Logical conclusion since they had to look for the pieces instead of them just being found around town.”

“All this talk about dead people’s makin’ me kinda peckish,” Spike said, trying to turn the topic to something less likely to get him staked. “Wotcher, got any-”

But Willow was already on the way to the kitchen. She pulled out two bags of blood and two mugs and heated them both to exactly the right temperature in the microwave.

She had done this for two reasons. One, she wanted to take care of her men. The other, she needed a few minutes to digest the news.

They had killed him. Tortured and killed him. Had she really expected any less? After what had happened? They called the chastity belt too cruel for even them, and they’d done some horrors in their time. And in retrospect, it really was. Cruel and inhumane and something no decent man would ask of the one he supposedly loved.

But was it a crime punishable by death?

Maybe not by human laws, but by demon laws, yes, it was. And they were demons, all of them, even Oz. They hadn’t gone out and killed a human man who had no knowledge of demonic right and wrong. They’d killed a werewolf, another demon, for being too malevolent, even by demonic standards.

The microwave dinged and Willow opened the door, grabbing the mugs gently so as not to burn herself. She walked them into the living room, where the Scoobies were researching from the old books. Spike and Angel were doing their reading at the desk where she had her computer set up. She handed them each a mug and they thanked her with a smile. She sat down at the computer and typed “demonic law” into her Google search bar.

As she waited for the results to appear, she said, “Not as good as wolf, sorry.”

They both looked at her but said nothing, too afraid they’d blown it completely.

She clicked on the first link that appeared and it was to a legal database covering demonic laws. After a few minutes of finding what she sought, and with the results being what she had suspected they’d be, she added, “Maybe I can spice that up with a little after dinner witch later on.”

Spike and Angel gaped and stared at her, then looked up and gaped at each other, then formed identical demonic smiles.

“You know what, Paingel? You’re an ass, you’ll always be an ass and nothin’ you ever do or say will make you not an ass!”

Angel followed right along. “Look, William! I brought you into this world, I can take you out. I don’t care if you don’t like the rules, it’s my house, my mansion and you’ll do as I say!”

It went on as all of the Scoobies, save Willow, looked up and cringed. They were at it again. Giles finally came to the rescue.

“Willow! Would you… please?”

She’d started packing up her computer as soon as Spike had said ‘Paingel’ and was now ready to leave. She didn’t say anything, just tapped Spike on the arm, pointed to her computer bag and headed out the door. The bickering continued even as Spike picked up the computer bag and Angel grabbed all their coats.

Willow was standing just outside the door, smiling.

“So, I’m your mate?” she asked them both.

Spike looked down at his feet, Angel looked up at the sky. “Why do you ask?”

“If another demon performs cruel or torturous acts against one’s mate, they are honor bound to perform the Ritual of Sachumaahn. For the ritual, you must drain every drop of the offender’s blood and then… that part was kinda gross so I skimmed over it, but then you leave the pieces around as warning to others that your mate is not to be touched.” She smiled again, “So, I’m your mate?”

They both nodded. She looked confused.

“Which one?” she asked.

“Which one what?”

“Which one killed him. It’s the mate who’s supposed to kill the offender.”

“We both did,” Angel said, pride evident.

“Oh,” Willow said, then, “OH!” and she jumped into their arms. Then she remembered something from one of the passages she had skimmed over.

“Which one of you ri- I mean, took his,” she blushed, “um, boy parts?”

Spike raised a hand. His right hand as it happened, the one where the weapon he’d used for said dismemberment resided.

Willow leaned over and wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

“I love you, too,” she said, looking into those clear blue eyes. “For always.”

“Yeah?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“Yeah,” she confirmed.

He turned them until Willow’s back was up against Angel’s hard chest. Wrapping his arms around them both, he said, “I love you – for always.” And then his lips met hers and the force of the kiss knocked her head back against Angel. Angel’s arms wrapped around both of his loves as well.

Spike’s body squirmed and shuddered, trying to moved imperceptibly closer to his mate. One of Angel’s hands slid to Willow’s hip the other to the back of Spike’s head, fingers running through hair that had held him mesmerized for over a century. He dipped his head and sucked the skin of Willow’s neck into his mouth, tasting her love and her heat.

As blissful as this all felt, they needed to get back to the mansion – soon – before they embarrassed themselves in Giles’ courtyard.

Spike’s fingers dug into Angel’s backside as Spike moaned into Willow’s kiss.

The mansion could wait. He dipped his head down once more and this time it was Spike’s skin he tasted.

Lost as they all were, none of them saw Xander’s eyes, wide as saucers, staring at them from the window.

The End