Author: Spikedluv

Rating: NC17 (to be safe)

Pairing: Willow/Spike (as it should be)

Spoilers: Through season 4 `Doomed'. This fic starts
after `Something Blue' and before `Hush', AU after `Doomed'.

Summary: Willow mysteriously starts sleepwalking.

Notes: Fluff, the whole fluff, and nothing but the fluff. *
* indicate emphasis.

Feedback: It's ALL about the feedback (and naked Spike)! Don't
make me beg, it's not pretty.

E-mail: [email protected]

Distribution: The Seduction of Spike, Soulmates, Willow's Lil'
Secret, Shades of Gray, The BatPack Archives, Wacky Witch Willow and
Rapture. If anybody else wants it, please take it, just let me know
where it goes.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, just borrowing them for
awhile. Everything belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kuzui
Enterprises, Grr Argh, the WB, UPN and whoever else they really
belong to, although I wouldn't mind having a Spike of my own. Who
would? The story is mine, though, uh, partly.

Thanks and
Dedication: Amanda, who is not only my beta and grasshopper
extraordinaire, she also came up with the premise for this fic, along
with some wonderful ideas, and allowed me to write it.

****************

Willow huddled on the couch, a pillow in her lap, as Giles
cut her pant leg and carefully pulled the material away from her
leg. Xander, Anya and Spike were still gathered around, but Willow
was trying to ignore them.

"Ew...yuck," Xander looked like he might faint. Several of
the red, inflamed blisters had broken and were oozing a clear, thick
substance. He stepped back and looked away.

"You know, that reminds me of the time I...," Anya started to
say as she pointed at Willow's leg.

"An," Xander grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the
couch.

"Oh, Willow," Giles' voice was full of sympathy. "You really
should go to a hospital. This looks pretty bad. Burns get infected
easily and...,"

"No," Willow said. "No hospital. Can you just fix it,
Giles, please? I don't want to go to the hospital. What am I going
to tell them when they ask me what happened? I was dreaming and I
couldn't wake up? Can you just...please?" she asked him, her big
green eyes tearing, partly from the situation and partly from the
pain.

"Very well," Giles got up and went to get the first aid kit.

Willow watched Xander and Anya with detachment. She glanced
at Spike. He was staring at her. She stared back for one beat, two,
then turned her head and closed her eyes. She leaned her head back
against the couch and hugged the pillow to her chest.

She was embarrassed. She was confused. Her leg hurt like
heck.

"Ngh," her eyes flew open and she moaned, partly from the
pain, but mostly from surprise, when Giles gently patted at her leg
with a cotton ball, soaked with an antiseptic cleanser.

"Did that hurt?" Giles asked, immediately freezing.

"No, sorry," Willow shook her head. "Mostly startled me.
Wasn't paying attention. Go ahead," she nodded her head
encouragingly, squeezing the pillow so tightly her knuckles turned
white.

Willow sensed Spike walking away from her, but refused to let
herself look at him. She heard the front door close. Taking a deep,
fortifying breath, she forced her attention to Giles and watched
closely as he finished cleaning her burns and slathered antibacterial
ointment on them, leaving them uncovered.

Giles gathered up the used cotton balls and turned to
Willow, "I'll bring you some aspirin." Willow just nodded.

"How do you feel?" Xander sat on the coffee table near her.

"Confused," she said. "A little frightened. What's going
on?" she asked, nervously playing with the silver ring on her thumb.

"I don't know," Xander took her hand.

"Make any enemies recently?" Anya asked. "What?" she said
when they both just looked at her. "I'm just saying, this would have
been a great vengeance wish."

"I'm sure no one made a vengeance wish regarding Willow,
Anya," Giles said as he sat down on the couch next to the
redhead. "Here," he handed the aspirin to her. Willow popped them
in her mouth and accepted the glass of water he held out to her,
taking a sip.

"You know," Xander said thoughtfully, "Anya could be right.
The dreams and the sleepwalking are bad enough," he continued, "but
making you need to go to Spike...now *that's* inspired vengeance!" he
grinned at her.

Willow looked at him through her lashes, "Very funny,
Xander." Giles took the glass from her and set it on the coffee
table.

"I'd like you to stay here tonight, Willow," Giles
said. "I'd like to keep an eye on that burn and I'd feel better
knowing you had someone to wake you if you begin to dream again."

"I don't want to be a bother...," Willow began.

"Rubbish!" Giles interrupted her.

"D-do you really think I'll dream again?" she whispered,
fingers plucking at the pillow.

"I really don't know," Giles lay his hand over hers. "Do you
know what triggered this dream?" he asked.

Willow grimaced, "I think so."

"Can you tell me?" he gently pushed.

"I spoke to my parents this afternoon," she said, staring at
the pillow. "They want me to transfer to Harvard. To help my
father's professional reputation and standing. More prestigious than
UC Sunnydale."

"I'm sorry, Willow," Giles said, squeezing her hand.

"Why can't they accept me the way I am?" she asked sadly.

"I don't know," Giles shook his head in disgust. "But you
think that conversation triggered this memory, hence the dream?"

"It made me think about why I chose to stay here in the first
place," Willow replied. "Wanting to help you and Buffy fight evil,
and becoming a, a bad ass Wicca," she tried to smile. "Though,
telling my mother that her Jewish daughter was studying witchcraft
wouldn't be the winning argument. I guess it just made me remember
that...other time."

"Willow, can you tell me what Spike said?"

Unbidden tears pricked her eyes. She closed her eyes and
shook her head.

"He said," Xander began, his voice low, "he said we were
still losers, and useless to Buffy."

"And you believed him?" Giles asked incredulously. "You're
both smarter than that! You know Spike uses words as a weapon.
Especially now. But you should also know that you, *both* of you,
are indispensable to Buffy and me. Not only because of your
assistance to our...cause, but because of your friendship. Don't
*ever* doubt that," he squeezed Willow's hand. "Yes," he said,
looking over at the bouncing ex-demon, "you, too, Anya."

"Thanks!" she smiled happily.

"Willow," he said seriously as he turned back to the tearful
redhead, "please know that if you ever need to go to anyone, in a
situation like this," he made a small motion with his hand, "or any
other, you can come to me," he gently lay his hand on her head.

"Thank you, Giles," she leaned into him and he put both arms
around her and hugged her.

***

Spike was leaning against the Watcher's apartment next to the
front door, his head tipped back, resting on the cool stone, his knee
bent and the sole of one booted foot flat against the wall. He took
a deep drag off of the cigarette he held between his fingers, then
blew it out.

He *hated* these people. He bloody well *did*! Then why did
he feel so guilty because Willow had been hurt?

Watching her thrash about on the couch, and then hearing her
scream...Bugger! He was the big bad! He *made* people scream. But
this...this had unnerved him. And then, when he realized that she'd
actually been burned, just like in her dream...

He couldn't stand the fear and confusion in her eyes, the
pain she radiated. Because of him. Because she felt she couldn't
come to him. She'd had a nightmare she couldn't escape
from...because she had nowhere to go.

He heard her voice as she asked Xander what was happening and
the demon girl's suggestion that it could be a vengeance wish. Spike
growled as the whelp joked that making Willow need to go to Spike
would be an inspired vengeance wish. Moron.

He crushed his cigarette out and lit another. He listened as
the Watcher told Willow that he'd like her to spend the night on his
couch, then tensed when Willow began to tell them what might have
triggered the dream. Her parents? Her bloody *parents*? He
wondered what had happened that `other time' Willow mentioned.

He tensed again when he heard the Watcher ask what he had
said to Willow that made her not want to come to him, no matter how
much she needed to. He couldn't even remember himself. He listened
intently as the moron spoke. `Loser.' `Useless to Buffy.' Yeah, he
might've said something like that.

He said stuff like that all the time. Soddin' chip kept him
from hurting humans any other way. Watcher was right. Words were
his weapon. But why had he felt the need to hurt Willow? Because
*he* felt useless, and she was being nice to him, and he'd just
wanted to stake himself that night.

Ah, Watcher just told her that she could go to him. That was
good right? She felt safe with the Watcher. He closed his eyes as
he remembered the feel of her warm, soft body snuggled up against
him. Yep, this was best, he thought as he angrily crushed the
cigarette out. He stormed away from the apartment; he needed a spot
of violence.

***

Spike showed up at the Watcher's apartment a week later. His
presence had been requested for any information he had on a demon
that the Slayer had run across. He was dreading the command
performance, and if there wasn't his need for blood and smokes, he
wouldn't have come.

He hadn't been sleeping well. The only thing that calmed him
down, unsurprisingly, was a nice spot of violence, so he had spent a
lot of time killing demons. But he still hadn't been able to sleep.
He'd toss and turn, then dream of a warm, soft body snuggled up
against him and wake in a cold sweat. Other times he dreamt that she
was running and running with nowhere to go.

Soddin' poof is what he'd become. Caring what happened to a
human. Bloody hell, wasn't natural! He dropped his cigarette and
crushed it out under his boot, then opened the door without knocking
and walked in. Willow was sitting alone at the table, but he could
hear the Watcher puttering about in the kitchen.

Willow looked up when Spike opened the door and walked in,
blushed, then hurriedly looked away. She hadn't seen him in over a
week. Not since the night she'd gotten burned in her dream. She
hadn't spent a single night alone since then, with either Buffy,
Giles or Xander and Anya there to watch over her. She also hadn't
had any dreams since then, thank the goddess, but still, she hadn't
been getting much sleep. Too afraid to close her eyes for long.

Spike saw the blush spread across Willow's abnormally pale
skin, and then noticed the dark circles under her eyes. He wondered
if she'd had trouble sleeping, too. Silly chit was probably making
herself stay awake so she wouldn't dream. He fidgeted in indecision
for a second, then spoke.

"Can we talk?" he asked. Willow's head jerked up.

"Me?" she pointed to herself.

"Yes, bloody you!" Spike growled softly. This was bleedin'
hard enough...oh, no! That better not be tears...sod all, it
was! "Aw, Red, don't cry," he pleaded, running his hand through his
hair nervously.

Willow tried unsuccessfully to blink back the tears before
they fell. She hated this. It wasn't Spike. It wasn't. She was
just...tired. She was so darn tired. She wanted just one good
night's sleep. Goddess, please, just one. She wiped the tears off of
her face, wishing she could crawl under the table.

"What do you want, Spike?" she asked sadly.

"Can we talk? Please?" he added.

"Talk," she said.

"Uh, outside," Spike said. No way he was
gonna...apologize...bloody, soddin', wankin' ponce...in front of the
Watcher. "Please," he gritted his teeth.

"Fine," Willow pushed her chair back. Spike pulled the door
open and held it for her, then followed her out into the courtyard.

"What do you want?" she turned to face him, her arms crossed
over her chest, her eyes locked on his chin.

"I want...," he paused and tilted his head. "Could you look
at me?" With a deep sigh, Willow raised her eyes to his. Better,
although, maybe not. Willow's eyes were like deep, green pools that
he found himself drowning in. He shook his head to clear it of
whatever spell he was under and tried to start again.

"I wanna...apologize," he muttered, his voice going so low
even he could barely hear it.

"What?" she asked.

"Bloody hell! I wanna apologize!" he practically yelled.
Willow stood in shocked silence.

"Why?" she asked.

"What do you mean, why?"

"Why do you want to apologize? I mean, you enjoyed hurting
me, right?" the tears were back and her voice cracked.. "Made you
feel real good to make me feel bad. So why apologize?"

"You got hurt...," he started.

"So, you're just feeling guilty `cause of a little burn?
Well, don't!" She was angry. Angry because she was dreaming. Angry
because she went to him in the first place. Angry because she was
tired. Angry because she was afraid to fall asleep. Angry because
she didn't know what was going on, and that scared her.

"`Cause you're only going to be sorry until the next time you
need to hurt me to make yourself feel good!" she moved to walk around
him and he grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Red, wait...,"

"Let me go!" she pulled on her arm. Spike tightened his grip
just enough to keep her from leaving, but it was enough to hurt her.

"Ow! Bloody fucking hell!" he dropped to the ground and
grabbed his head. Soddin' chip!

Willow started to walk away. Served him right, stupid
vampire. But she hesitated and heard him whisper, "Bloody *didn't*
make me feel good."

She should keep walking, she told herself. Instead, she
turned around to see him looking up at her from his knees, the heel
of his hand pressed against his forehead. She felt her heart
soften. Stupid vampire, ha! Stupid Willow. She walked back until
she was standing directly in front of him.

"You're a jerk, Spike," she said, looking into his blue eyes
with teary green ones as she reached out and cradled his head in her
hands, her fingers gently massaging him.

"Cor, luv," he groaned.

"Am I hurting you?" Willow's fingers froze, the irony of that
question not lost on her.

"Don't stop!" he grabbed her hip and let his forehead fall
against her stomach as she rubbed his aching head.

After a moment of silence, Spike spoke. "Didn't feel good
seeing you hurting," he said. "Actually," he was glad he didn't have
to look at her, "felt bloody awful. And then you had the dream, and
you didn't come to me, not that I wanted you to," he denied, "except
you were warm and all, and then you, you got hurt," he reached down
and lightly touched her calf, careful not to touch the healing burn.

They were both silent.

"I told my friend Tara what happened," Willow spoke
softly, "she's a witch, too, and she thinks I burned myself with my
own magic," Willow snorted. "How stupid is that? I suck at magic.
I can't do anything right. I even hurt myself in my sleep."

Spike tipped his head back and looked up at her. "You're not
stupid, luv," he said. "Well, `cept when you listen to me. Not
now," he clarified, "meant the other time." Willow nodded in
understanding. Spike rose gracefully to his feet and held her by the
elbows.

"And you don't suck, you just need practice. And there's
lots of stuff you do right!"

"Like what?" she asked.

"Well," he thought, "that pencil trick's pretty neat!"
Despite herself, Willow felt her lips twitch.

"I made you kiss Buffy."

"Yeah, well, okay, that sucked," he agreed and Willow
rewarded him with a slight smile. "Don't do that again, okay?"

"I won't," she shook her head.

"Right. Come here," he led her over to the fountain and sat
down, pulling her down next to him. "Can I ask you something?"

"I guess," Willow squirmed under his intense gaze.

"What did you dream about?" he leaned forward so he could see
her face.

"You mean, when I burned myself?" she asked. Spike
nodded. "They were burning me at the stake. Me, Buffy and Amy."

"Who? Who was burning you?"

"Our parents," her voice cracked.

"It was just a dream, though, right?" Spike asked. "Red?" he
prodded when she didn't answer.

"No. Really happened."

"What?! Why? When? How?" he was shocked. Her parents had
actually tried to burn her at the stake? The dream, nightmare, had
really happened?

"Last year. Demon, looked like two cute little kids, sort of
possessed everybody, they felt really bad when it was all over,
though," she nodded her head.

"I'll bet," Spike still couldn't believe it. "What
happened? I mean, last year? I mean, you're here an' all," he
pointed at her.

"Giles revealed the demon and the spell was broken. Cordy
put out the fire just as it got to me. Xander and Oz fell out of the
ceiling after it was all over," she smiled at that memory.

"But in the dream?"

"Nobody showed up. The fire...Tara thinks my magic went
all..,"

"Wonky?" Spike supplied.

"Yeah, uh, wonky, because I couldn't get out of the dream. I
couldn't wake up, nobody was coming to save us, and I couldn't...,"
she paused.

"You didn't have anywhere to go."

"Yeah. So I made it real. I don't know why that's
happening," she ran her finger over the ring in a nervous gesture
that had become habit by now. "I know it's probably
really...annoying."

"Actually, not so bad," Spike had his elbows on his thighs
and was looking down at the stones of the courtyard.

"Really?" Willow asked.

"Really," Spike turned his head to look at her.

"`Cause I'm warm?" Willow asked, her lips curling. Spike
just raised his eyebrows and Willow blushed. "Oh, about that," she
said, her eyes going wide as she remembered that morning at
Xander's, "uh, well, sorry about that."

"Giles is gonna figure it out," she said after a couple of
minutes, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt.

"Right," Spike agreed, even as he wondered if he wanted him
to.

End Part Four