Disclaimer: Everything BtVS and AtS is owned by Joss, ME, and all them over there. Everything Anita Blake is owned by Laurell K. Hamilton

Chapter 6

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Willow ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The deep blue of the dress shimmered in the lamplight from its spot hanging on the door of the wardrobe in the suites second bedroom. It had been taken from its box as soon as Spike handed it to her, and put out of the way to ensure that nothing touched it before dinner. Willow was putting the finishing touches on her makeup in front of the lighted vanity mirror, sitting on the padded stool in her underwear and garters.

The stockings and garters were a point of pride for the redheaded witch, and she felt so grown up just sliding them over her legs. The stockings, real ones with seams running up the back, were a pale ivory to complement her complexion and made of the softest silk. Spike had left her to buy her bits while he went in search of something suitable to wear to dinner that night and the theater or opera another, and she hadnt been able to resist them.

The belt she wore with them was a deep blue, though she had also bought belts in green, black, red, and white. The sales girls had been more than willing to help her find belts in multiple colors and many different pairs of stockings once they learned that she didnt own even one pair. They had also been a little more than helpful in finding the other underwear when they caught sight of Spike through the window.

Willow giggled to herself at the memory of one of the women turning and looking at her in open admiration. "Does *that* belong to you?"

Willow blinked twice before she found her voice. "Well, for the time being."

"Honey," the other girl looked up from where she was boxing up Willows purchases. "If that man is willing to let you go shopping on his tab for anything you want when hes not certain that hell ever get to enjoy it, hes yours. And not just for the time being."

Willow had blushed and looked out the window catch Spikes eye before he quickly looked away. Shed made certain that her packages would be sent to her room before joining the platinum blonde.

"What now?" Willow couldnt keep the excitement from her voice. She had never liked shopping, but something about this fairly made her head swim.

"Sun set about ten minutes ago." Spikes hands started searching his pockets as the two of them headed toward the parking garage. "Should be safe to go out and find some things to wear to the clubs."

"I have no clue what to get, though."

"Ill help." Spike lit up a cigarette as soon as they entered the cement garage. "Or am I not allowed to see those either?"

"I guess you can, but its not the same to wear things for people if theyve already seen them."

Spike had fallen silent after that. Hed taken her to a few different stores, buying things for himself as well as for her. Willow never got a chance to see what is was he got for himself, as he always managed to talk another girl into helping Willow find things that she liked.

Willow knew, even as she slid the back zipper of the dress up and smoothed the long elbow gloves that had arrived with the dresses over her arms, that she really *was* dressing for Spike.

Her mind told her that there was no point in it, that he saw her as only a friend, and a *gay* friend at that, but she couldnt seem to help it. She had tried telling herself that it was too soon after Taras leaving for her to even be looking at someone else, much less a guy, and a *vampire* at that! Nothing worked, and the little flutters and breathless moments only seemed to be happening more frequently.

"Okay, Willow," she held her breath and turned to see her reflection in the long mirror in the corner of the room. "Wow."

The woman staring back at her was made taller than normal by the ridiculously high heels Spike had bought for her while off on his own earlier. From the smug smile hed given her when she asked what else he had in store, she knew there was more to his little alone time than getting some dress clothes for himself, but he wasnt talking. The shoes were a deep blue, opened toed affair, with dainty bows at the top of the bridge and a single thin strap circling each ankle to buckle at the side.

Not wanting to fuss with her hair too much, she had parted it down the middle and twisted the pieces at the front back from her temples and secured them together with a small, clear band. The effect was simple, but elegant. Her face was left open, drawing attention from her sharp widows peak to the big green eyes that blinked back at her.

"Not bad." The redhead turned to see the dress flare and giggled softly to herself in pure feminine glee.

The deep blue of her dress complimented her coloring well, bringing out her natural attributes, while the cut and style made her feel more sophisticated than anything else ever had. Thin straps slipped over her shoulders and were attached just under her arms, leaving her back completely open from neck to where the material draped over the swell of her hips and butt. The neckline was modest, not even showing the barest hint of cleavage, and fitted until it flared over her hips to nearly brush the floor.

"Nope." Willow smoothed her hands over the dress one last time to insure that there were no annoying lines. "Not bad at all."

A soft knock at her door signaled Spikes arrival, and she forced herself to take a deep breath...

That she forgot she was holding when she opened the door to reveal Spike in his dinner attire. The black slacks and tuxedo jacket were paired with shining black shoes that Willow knew he had to have bought that afternoon. A deep red shirt was paired with a slightly askew black bow tie.

Realizing that she was staring, Willow felt herself blush as she let the air out of her aching lungs and reached up to straighten the tie. "You look...perfect."

"Good." Spike nodded slightly before boldly sliding his eyes up and down her body. "Then I look at least half as good as you."

Willow giggled and turned to switch the light off and heard Spikes sharply drawn breath.

"Take that back, pet. I dont look anywhere *near* half as good as you do."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Spike ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike could hear her through the door long before he knocked, smiling to himself when he heard her slight compliments. If she thought she looked not bad, he knew he had better prepare himself before letting his presence be known to the beguiling redhead. Straightening his pants, jacket, and tie for the fifth time in ten minutes, he lifted one graceful hand and knocked softly on the rich oak door.

The Willow that greeted him was made much taller by the shoes hed selected. Now she came to just below his chin. Perhaps it was some trick of the light, her hairstyle, and makeup that made her eyes seem larger and more beautiful than he was used to. Satin covered fingers adjusted his tie, and Spike only caught the last word Willow spoke.

Hoping that she was commenting on his looks, Spike let his eyes trail over the midnight blue dress she wore. "Good. Then I look at least half as good as you."

When Willow turned to make sure she switched the light in the room off, Spike was confronted with the sight of the bare expanse of her back. He felt himself take a completely surprised and unnecessary breath.

"Take that back, pet. I dont look anywhere *near* half as good as you do."

Willow was just turning when his words sunk in, and Spike was treated to the long, slow blush that swept up from the neckline of her dress to the roots of her hair. The vampire in Spike purred at the heightened scent of heated blood in the air. Willows eyes widened, and Spike realized that hed made the sound out loud.

"Sorry bout that, pet." The blonde was suddenly grateful that he couldnt blush anymore. He felt the sheepish smile of centuries past slip over his lips, and fought the long dormant urge to dip his head to hide his face.

Willow merely smiled that wide, soft smile at him and glided past. "Dont worry about it, Spike. I know what you are... Who you are."

Spike caught the sweet scent of Willow, the cloves that hinted at her magic and the vanilla that spoke of innocence, and stilled. How he wished to brush his fingers through her hair! How he yearned to glide the palm of his hand over that pale, lovely back! He could tell how her skin would taste on his tongue from her scent, and mourned its being wasted on some chit who would have no idea what a prize she was holding. He tried to shake the thoughts from his head, but they clung to him as her presence had draped itself over every aspect of his life since that night not so long ago when he had fallen in love.

The dull ache in his chest was less, yet so much more, than what he felt when Dru had left him. Less because there wasnt the raging hate that the loss of deep love often breeds. Less, also, because he had over a century of memories with his sister-lover.

More because this ache was one of loss, as if he were mourning the death of someone so dear to him that he could not put into words how he felt. He was reminded of being ten years old and told that his grandmother, the lovely old woman who gave him toast and marmalade in the still of the night when no one else would have allowed it, had died. The feeling for Willow was that kind of pain, full in its emptiness.

Chapter 7

~~~~~~~~ Willow ~~~~~~~~

The air was crackling. It had to be. There was simply no way that the feeling could be contained in her body. She, not-quite-so-little-or-mousy-anymore Willow Rosenberg, was standing in an elevator on her way to dinner in a lavish dining hall with *Spike*. Her stomach kept doing that little flipping thing that she was fairly certain had nothing to do with the slow pace of the metal car.

Spike looked good... Very good... Too good. Oh, *how* was she supposed to make it through dinner without saying something embarrassing? How was she supposed to eat, and talk, and maybe even dance with the sinfully good looking creature standing beside her?

Just looking at him made their differences all too clear. He was still, even with the nervousness of the elevator ride humming through his body, and lethally beautiful; while she felt plain and her hands wouldnt stop twisting around each other. The air around the blonde seemed to float in a strange serenity while the area surrounding her own body twisted and sparked like a summer storm.

"Calm down, pet." Spike drew her left hand to rest in the crook of his arm as the digital numbers began reading single digits.

"Huh?" Willow was too focused on the feel of his slightly cool skin through the satin of her glove to come up with another, more intelligent reply.

"Your heart is thundering." He spoke as if he were telling her that he had blonde hair, or that she had green eyes. "Take a deep breath and calm down. Its just dinner."

"Right," Willow gulped down air and ran her free hand over her dress. With Spike holding onto one of her arms, her favored method of fidgeting was impossible. "Why dont I believe you?"

"Because you know Ill end up making you dance?"

"I cant dance, Spike." Willow tried to put as much conviction into the words, soft now as the doors of the elevator opened to reveal the extravagant lobby with its gleaming marble floors and dark wood filled sitting areas.

"Ill show you how." Spike smiled at the concierge as they passed on their way to the wide hall that led to the Nob Hill Restaurant.

"I really dont want to make a fool out of myself, Spike." Willows steps had slowed, and she knew Spike would soon pull on her arm to quicken her pace. He just wasnt patient enough to move so slowly. "I had enough of that in high school."

"No one will think you a fool, Red. Ill do all the work. All you have to do is follow my lead." Spike was giving her a smile that was at once reassuring and flirtatious.

Willow sighed. "If you say so."

Spikes next words were lost to her as they entered the dining room.

The word opulent sprang to mind, and Willow could only agree with her subconscious. The floor was a gleaming light wood, from the windows lining one wall to the mirrors lining the other. Tables, set with silver flatware and crystal, surrounded a large dance floor. As in the lobby, creams and reds were the colors of choice, though lighter here in the presence of so many chandeliers. Candles flickered from inside their red glass prisons in the center of each table.

Willow had just begun taking in the eight piece string band softly playing on the raised stage when Spike gave a soft tug on her hand. She turned her face to his, catching his wide smile before he gestured her ahead of him to follow the woman showing them to their seats. The redhead smiled her thanks to the older woman as they reached their table in front of the windows.

"Let me, pet." Spike was standing behind her chair, and Willow smiled at him before letting him help her into her seat.

Willow noticed that there were already two menus resting on the table in front of them, and moved to open hers. She smiled at the crisp white page that had the word dinner scrawled across it. A turn of the page, and she nearly choked on her own tongue in shock.

"Spike-"

"Not a worry, pet." Spikes interruption told her that hed known about the high prices far before they had gone shopping that afternoon. "Want me to pick something for you?"

Willow raised an eyebrow. "No, I think I can read."

Spike chuckled. "Didnt mean anythin by it, Red."

"I know. Probably just habit, huh?"

Spike nodded as he looked over his menu. "You up for appetizers?"

"Ummm..." Willow looked over the list and shook her head. "Im going to go with a big no on that one. A salad would be nice, though."

"The mixed greens with endive?" He spoke without looking up from his own list, and Willow grinned.

"How did you know?"

"The strawberries gave it away, I think. Its pretty good."

"Can I have the fillet mignon?" The rest of the food sounded far too rich and slightly disgusting to the girl who was- computers, witchcraft, and sexuality aside- a simple girl.

"You can have one of each thing on the menu." Spike met her eyes seriously. "Just pick what you want, though Im ordering you a glass of wine."

"Id rather just have sweet tea."

"You can drink that, too." Spike nodded to himself, completely ignoring the slightly affronted pout on Willows face.

"You can order the wine, though I dont have to drink it."

Spikes grin was wide and approving. "Good point."

Their server came just then, and Spike looked at the young man expectantly as he went into his list of what the chef was preparing. When he finished, he glanced back and forth between the pair before facing Willow first.

"Could I get you something to start? A drink perhaps?"

"Id like the mixed greens and endive salad to start, and a glass of sweet tea."

"Shell also take a glass of your finest Pinot Grigio as well." Spike winked at Willow before placing his order as well.

When the waiter had retreated to put in their orders, Spike turned laughing blue eyes to the redhead. "What do you think, Willow?"

"I think this is *way* too expensive."

Spike only chuckled and nodded. "Its not a problem, Red. Not like well be eating here every night, anyway."

"True. It *is* lovely, though." Willow fingered the linen napkin sitting beside her plate. "I need to do some shopping tomorrow. I want to get the guys something."

"Dont think Slutty or Chubs deserve anything, pet. Its not like theyre being very good friends."

Willow sighed. "They dont mean anything by it, Spike. Theyre just worried about me and think I need help, but dont know what to do."

"We should get the demon and Nibblet something nice." Spike quirked an eyebrow. "How long to you think your friends will give us before they come to hunt us down?" The question was serious, even if Spikes voice held a slight chuckle.

Willows response was halted by the arrival of their drinks. After they were left alone once again, she frowned slightly. "I dont know. Anya knows were in San Francisco, but they dont know where were staying. I doubt this is the first place they look."

"True enough," Spike grinned. "Wonder if theyll bring Peaches into it."

"No, I dont think so. Its not like theyre afraid for my life or anything. Buffy wont involve the LA crew unless she absolutely has to."

Spike nodded briefly and motioned toward her wine glass. "Just a sip is all I ask, pet."

Willow humored him, commenting on the light, fruity taste.

The rest of dinner flew by for the unusual pair, full of conversation, both serious and otherwise, before they finally pushed their dessert plates away with satisfied little smiles.

"Dance with me, pet?" Spike was standing beside her chair, hand extended, with a slightly uncertain look in his blue eyes.

Willow couldnt say no after seeing the all too familiar look on his face, and slipped her hand into his. "As long as you promise not to make me look bad."

Spike winked. "Ill do my best, pet."

The first dance Spike led her into was a sort of modified waltz that sent her skirt twirling around her legs. Willow forced herself to focus on the feel of Spikes arms and the placement of her feet for a few steps. After that, she was able to meet the blondes eyes and just enjoy the dance. Of course, she *was* able to catch more than a few diners watching them move in open admiration, but decided to ignore them as long as the dance lasted.

The dance lasted until just after midnight when the octet finished their final song and began to leave the stage. Spike and Willow, along with the servers and the last few diners, applauded their performance.

As Spike led her from the dance floor, Willow heard the sparse sound of hands clapping. A moment later, others had joined in.

"Who are they clapping for?"

"I think thats for us, pet."

Spike wrapped an arm around her waist and spun her expertly before lowly dipping her body to an even more enthusiastic response from their audience. Standing her back on her feet, he moved her to bow in one direction and then another. They ended facing the stage, and Willow found herself spun once again before Spike led her through the tables and out the door.

The elevator gave a soft sound, more a tuneful bong than the ordinary ding, as it reached the lobby. Spike had moved Willow across the lobby in a complicated whirl of movement before catching sight of the man and woman behind the counter watching them. Grinning, the two dancers had pulled the night workers into a dance that lasted only as long as it took for the elevator to be summoned by a bellhop.

"Tired, pet?" Spike spoke softly as the mirrored, plush seated elevator moved toward the upper floors.

Willow had seated herself on the soft blue seat that lined the back wall of the car and was pulling the long gloves down her arms. "No, not at all. After so many years of patrols, research, and major demon fightage, not to mention maintaining a 4.0, Im pretty much used to staying up all night."

They reached their floor, and Spike took her hand to lead her to their suite. "You go change, and Ill make some tea then."

"Okay." Willow nodded and went to the room she had used earlier to find the cut off t-shirt and lounge pants she had slept in the last few nights. When at home, she usually only wore the pants until she was ready to slip into bed, but thought that sleeping in a t-shirt and panties was a little too daring for the situation she had found herself in. When she emerged from her room fifteen minutes later, having changed clothes and hung her dress back on its padded hanger and washed the makeup from her face, Willow was greeted with a sight that robbed her of her breath.

Spike was just setting out their tea cups half dressed. The jacket and tie had been discarded along with his shoes and socks, lending a relaxed air to his usual sleek, dangerous feel. But it was the shirt that had put her in such a state.

He had pulled it from the confines of his pants to rest around his slim hips as he moved about the sitting area. When he turned at the sound of her entering, Willow saw the pale line of his chest and stomach where the dress shirt had been fully unbuttoned. Willow could only move on autopilot to her seat and hope Spike didnt try to talk to her until she found her voice.

She really had no idea why the sight of Spike dressed in such a manner was having such an effect on her. She had been more than happy with Tara for such a long time. How was it that a man was able to do this to her without even trying? Was there something wrong with her? It hadnt even been a week since Tara had walked out, and she was having that palms sweating, fluttering stomach feeling! That just wasnt right. Was it?

"Feeling okay, Red?"

Willow blinked at Spike, realizing that he *had* been speaking to her. "Sorry, Spike. I was just thinking."

"Want to talk about it, pet?"

He looked so concerned, that Willow felt bad for the almost-lie she was about to tell. "Just thinking about Tara again."

Spike sat on the couch and moved Willow to stretch out along its length, resting her head on his thigh. "Start talkin, Willow."

"I wouldnt even know where to start."

"How did you two meet?"

Spike ran his fingers through her hair as he spoke, and Willow began relating the details of her relationship with the blonde witch.

The two spoke quietly until the world outside their windows began to wake in predawn light. Willow felt her eyes closing, but couldnt seem to make them open again. Strong arms slid under her and she snuggled into Spikes embrace as he carried her into the room they had shared since arriving in town.

She had a moment to wonder why they didnt just get a different, single bedroom suite before she was slipped under the covers and sleep claimed her fully.

Chapter 8

~~~~~~~~ Spike ~~~~~~~~

Spike slid the ripped and worn black material over his head and smoothed it over the hard planes of his chest and stomach with a satisfied smirk. The t-shirt was soft against his skin, interrupted here and there with the cool metal of safety pins. Bits of flesh peaked out from the holes the pins were attempting to hold closed with varying degrees of success.

The blonde had picked up some eyeliner while shopping with Willow, having laughed at the look on her face when she realized that he had walked out of the store with more in his pockets than the cigarettes he bought. Now, he painted thick black lines around his ice blue eyes. Mascara soon followed before Spike ran gel-covered fingers through his white-blonde hair, tousling and spiking it in the messy style he had favored in the days surrounding the killing of his second slayer.

The clothes werent the ones he had worn all those years ago, but they were used, made worn and comfortable by others before being sent to the second hand store where he and Willow had gone shopping. The snug black jeans fit him a little more tightly than he normally wore, but he wanted to make an impression on Willow. The shirt was a major departure from his current favored attire of black t-shirt and red buttoned down, but it matched the ones he wore while running around New York City, hunting in the Park and seeing as many Circle Jerks and Sex Pistols shows as he could.

Hearing the sound of the other bedroom door opening and closing, and deciding that he was as good looking as he could possibly get, Spike checked his wallet and moved to meet Willow in the sitting room of the suite. The sight that greeted him brought the blonde vampire up short.

Willow was standing with her back to him while she looked into the mirror and fastened silver earrings in her small lobes. Her red hair, now reaching between the tops of her shoulders and her shoulder blades, had been pulled up and twisted into spikey ponytails on either side of her head with a few pieces of chunky bangs left to frame her face. Spike could see her big green eyes, rimmed in oranges and reds, shining out at him from the reflective glass.

Spike didnt recognize the clothes she wore, deciding that she must have gone to a few of the stores that had been closed the night they went shopping together. Was it only the night before? He felt as if the time they had spent together had somehow lengthened, that they had been together in this other word of San Francisco for weeks instead of days.

The black t-shirt she wore over a long sleeved red shirt featured a dancing, smiling rabbit. The black skirt she wore was flared and indecent enough for Spike to wonder if she was wearing her good panties. The satin straps of a garter belt peaked out from under the skirts hem, sliding over her thighs to secure the fishnet stockings she wore. A pair of black boots, fastening with more straps and buckles than anyone should have the patience to clasp, began just under her knees and ended in wedged platforms.

Bloody hell... Spikes brain ground to a halt as his eyes slid up and down the lithe body of the redhead in front of him. His body was having no such trouble, however, and he snapped to attention enough to step behind a nearby chair when Willow finished her primping and spun to face him.

The short skirt moved with her body, spinning to give him a very clear view of the red, ruffled panties she wore. The red matched the shirt, and Spike just *knew* there was a matching bra underneath all that cotton. The snug jeans were suddenly downright uncomfortable, and the vampire wished he could come up with an excuse to go change, but Willow was ready to go and the show she had bought tickets for that afternoon would be starting in half an hour. He wasnt going to be the reason she was late for her first real punk concert, not to mention that the Bottom of The Hill Club would forever ruin The Bronze for the girl.

"What do you think?" Willows eyebrows were raised in that please-say-you-like-something-I-did way she had a habit of doing when she was feeling old stirrings of insecurities she had worked years to get past.

"Bloody hell, luv," Spike chuckled. "Youre a vision to behold."

"Really?"

Spike decided that the light in her eyes was more than worth a little discomfort on his part. "Ill have to fight them off with a stick."

Willow slid her ID and money into the little zippered pouch attached to the skirt and shook her head at Spike. "Nah, a few well placed growls and a grrr face or two should do the trick for any regular guy."

"Might be demons there too, Red. Sunnydale and LA dont have the market cornered on vampires." Spike was finally able to move, and held the door open for Willow to precede him into the short hall leading to the elevator.

"Then I guess youll get to beat the crap out of something." Willow shrugged and grinned up at where Spikes face would have been reflected in the mirrored sides of the lift car. "Hasnt it been too long since you got your decent spot of violence?"

Spike grinned down at his companion. "Eh, Ive been distracted by a beautiful little redheaded witch."

Willow laughed and wound her arm through Spikes as they stepped off the elevator, clasping his large hand in her small one. "Well, at least youre not going through withdrawal or anything."

"Whats your shirt say, luv?" Spike turned to look down at the screen print of the bunny.

"I like everybody, except you pinheads," Willow giggled. "I got a whole bunch of them at a store this afternoon."

"They all say that?"

"Nope. One says Cute but psycho, another says crazy doesnt even begin to cover it. I got some other ones, too. Oh! And there were some Ramones and Sex Pistols shirts there too, so I got some for you. I peeked at the sizes of your shirts before I left, so they should fit okay.

"And I got Dawnie this really cool henna tattoo kit and Anya a bunch of massage oils and bath stuff from one of the more expensive places. I got Buffy a new cross necklace to replace the one that got eaten by that slimy demon thing last weekend. Xander is getting some fudge and specialty chocolates from this little shop a few blocks from the hotel. It took forever, but I finally found Giles some nice, old books that I know he doesnt have from an occult store I heard about on the internet. So, I think everyone will be happy with what theyre going to get."

"Those pillocks should be happy that you got them anything at all, stupid bloody morons. Demon girl and Nibblit are the only ones who deserve anything."

"Spike, they may be pigheaded sometimes, but theyre still my friends."

"Right pet, sorry." Spike shook his head as the first few lines of her babble finally sunk in. "You bought stuff for me?"

"Well, it only seemed right since youre paying for the room and all."

Spike pulled Willow up short and spun her to face him. "How did you know that?"

"I went shopping today and asked the girl at the front desk to thank the concierge for the room. She just looked at me strange and said that it was the room you reserved."

"Look, pet-"

"Its okay, Spike. I know that you did it to make me feel better, and theres no way I can come up with the kind of money to help pay for it all, but you knew that before you did it. I dont know why youre willing to spend that kind of money on me, but Ive made up my mind to just let it stand as some *huge* token of friendship and not question you about it. Now, lets get going, or well miss the beginning of the show!"

"Right, pet," Spike once again clasped her hand in his and moved into the growing crowd of people heading toward the club half a block away.

The Bottom Of The Hill Club was a little less than four blocks away from their hotel, but it may as well have been some distant planet. The stylish eateries and softly lit, pastel interiored shops were replaced by window displays featuring more leather than lace and garish neon lights. The brick and trees lining the streets of Nob Hill had disappeared more than a block ago, with cracked concrete and graffiti taking their place.

Spike was in heaven.

That was the only thought that made any kind of sense to the blonde vampire. Somehow, through some twist of fate, hed managed to make some demon or god happy, and this was his reward. Walking down a dusk-darkened street with Willows waist encircled firmly in his arm had to mean he had done *something* right.

As they neared the club, Spike caught more than a few appreciative looks being cast Willows way. His first instinct was to be jealous and protective. His second instinct, which earned him a sharp fissure of pain behind his left eye, was to rip out all their eyes so they wouldnt be able to ogle what was so obviously his. And Willow, whether she ever admitted- or even knew about- it, was his.

In the relaxed and breezy half an hour that they walked, Spike had come to a conclusion. And, while it wasnt the most ideal situation, he knew that he would be as loyal to her as he had been to his love of Drusilla. Spike had decided that he was going to keep Willow, even if he never got to possess her the way he dreamed.

Spike would keep her close, staying with her long after some vampire had its lucky day and the Slayer was dead. He would hold her as she eventually mourned the loss of the Watcher, either to his leaving or death. He would grit his teeth and put up with Chubbs and Demon girl, no matter how much the boy made his fangs itch. And- Willow being the young, smart, and beautiful woman that she is- Spike would let his heart crumble into dust and watch as she found another mortal to love and grow old with.

But those days were a long way off now. Tonight, for the first time in longer than Spike cared to think about, he was well and truly happy. It had nothing to do with being away from Buffy, the rest of the Scoobies, or the hellmouth. It had nothing to do with the possibility of a decent spot of violence should anyone get too fresh with Willow. It even had nothing to do with them being on their way to a real punk show at a real club.

No, none of that factored into the feelings the blonde had found himself so freely open to. The only thing that mattered to Spike at that exact moment was the feel of Willows waist in the firm hold of his arm and the bright smile on her face as she handed their tickets to the man at the door.

"Want a drink, pet?" Spike spoke with his mouth next to Willows ear, savoring the feel of skin against his lips and her sweet smell.

"No, Im fine." Willow spoke distractedly as she looked around the club.

The balcony of the club ran along three sides of the building fifteen feet above the main floor. Two staircases led from either side of the main entrance to the upper floor. A long bar lined either side of the room from the bottom of the stairs to the steps leading to the dance floor and the tables.

There were people on the stage at the far end of the dance floor. At first, going by the rundown and tough-looking girl helping set up the drum kit, Spike figured they were the roadies for whatever pampered, over-indulged band passed for punk these days. A few people called out Brody!, and the girl gave a short jerk of a nod in their direction.

"Thats Brody!" Willow grinned and gripped Spikes hand in excitement.

Spike chuckled and smiled indulgently down at his date. "So it would seem. You got an in with the bands roadie?"

Willows expressive face registered confusion before understanding dawned in her eyes and she giggled. "Brody isnt one of the *crew*, shes the lead singer for The Distillers! And no, I dont know her.

"Well, not personally anyway. She wouldnt be all hey, its Willow! or anything. I bought Sing Sing Death House last year, after I heard some of their songs online, and Drain The Blood is just as good or even better. Its still really rare to find girls in rock, and Brody is the only one that I know of in punk or hardcore."

"So this is a solidarity thing? Cuz, I gotta tell you, Red, that there are far more men here than women."

"I never said this was about standing up for women, though that would be nice. No, this is about the fact that they kick ass."

"No need to take it personal, pet." Spike maneuvered Willow to stand at the back of the wooden floor, a move that gave her the ability to see the stage clearly while keeping her out of the way should any violent dancing start. "As long as there are no whiney chits on badly played guitars, Ill be fine."

Willow could only shake her head and grin in reply as the band bounded onto the stage. After introducing their name and the title of their first song The Distillers launched into their set.

Chapter 9

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Willow ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second band left the stage at a few minutes before midnight. Willow was hot and sweating, her loosened muscles already telling her that she was going to be sore the next day. She had pulled Spike a little further out onto the floor to join in the bouncing, thrashing dancing of the other club goers. Spikes usual air of detached stoicism had slowly cracked and melted away as Willow moved to the beat and he moved with her. The two had been separated four times by moving bodies, but Spikes large, cool hands always appeared around her waist or arm before she had time to panic. He would give a brilliant grin and cock his head to the side in greeting, and Willow would copy him before moving back into the fray.

"Ready to go, pet?" Spikes lips brushed over her ear as he made himself heard over the loud voices and louder music that the DJ was pumping into the night air. "You look right knackered."

"I dont want to go back yet, but this is too much!" Willow shouted over the music, forgetting that Spikes hearing was much more acute than her own.

"Cmon, Red," Spike wrapped a firm arm around her waist and led her out of the club and onto the sidewalk.

Willow still moved to the music, muffled now that they were past the large doors and on the sidewalk. She giggled and wrapped both her arms through one of Spikes as she leaned happily against his side. Her brain, which usually ran twice as fast as the average human brain, was racing speedily along as she tried to decide what she wanted to do in a city that she had never visited.

"So?" Willow fluttered long eyelashes teasingly up at the blonde. "Anything you know that will give us an excuse not to go back to the room?"

"Only places I know of that have anything going on at this time of night are other clubs or demon spots."

Willow, not wanting to listen to anymore dance music pumped out by DJs who had no taste in music, grimaced at the thought of clubs. "You mean even a city like San Francisco closes down?"

"Well, there are places to eat open, and Im sure we could find a party or two."

"How about we go for a walk for a bit and then maybe get something to eat? There are lots of people around, and I dont think we could get into too much trouble with my magic and your vampy-ness."

Spike chuckled at her mini-babble and nodded. "Sounds like a plan, luv. Shall we go back up the hill or keep going this way?"

"This way. Ive already seen everything up there."

They moved amongst the small groups of people leaving the concert and just meandered along with the general flow of foot traffic. Willow told herself that she was holding Spikes hand to ensure that they wouldnt get separated and that no one would try anything with her, even as she told herself to ignore the way her skin tingled at the touch.

A few blocks away from the club, Willow caught sight of a bright, flashing sign, and grinned up at Spike. "Lets go there!"

Spike eyed the neon sign announcing tattoos and piercings before training his blue eyes on her. "The bloody Scoobies will probably yell for my head on a platter if you come home with more holes than you left with."

"Good thing Im getting a tattoo then." Willow nodded to herself and yanked Spike through the door after her before he could respond.

Spike pulled his arm back and stared at Willow as she stood in the center of the parlors front space. "Sure bout this, pet? Its permanent."

"Ive wanted one for a while, Spike, Im just too chicken to get one on my own."

"And youre not a chicken now?" That scarred eyebrow rose in question, and Willow suddenly thought how cool it would look with a bit of silver running through it.

Just after that, she wondered when she had developed a fetish for piercings. Lucky for her slightly bewildered mind, a heavily bearded and tattooed man stepped through the door separating the front room from the back.

Willow was thinking that he *had* to have been the template for every stereotypical biker or tattooist in the movies or on TV. A black bandana was tied around his forehead, keeping the long, waving grayish brown hair from falling in his eyes as he moved. The matching beard fell to nearly the center of his Harley Davidson t-shirt that stretched over his round stomach, giving him an almost comical Santa-as-rebel look. The arms that ran through the sleeves and down to hands that wiped absently at a towel pulled through a belt loop were colored in with so many designs and colors that Willow was unable to pick out more than one or two of the largest pictures.

"Can I help you?" His voice was mellow, and Willow found herself smiling.

"I want a tattoo." Willow cringed at that, knowing that it had to be one of the more inane things she had ever uttered.

The man simply nodded and gestured at the walls around them. "You pick it, I stick it."

Willow frowned for a moment as she glanced around. "Could you do something that isnt on the walls?"

"Itd cost more, but I can do just about anything."

"If I had thought ahead, I would have gone online and brought the picture with me."

Another soft chuckle came from the gently smiling man, and he waved them over to the counter situated to one side of the main showroom. He pulled a laptop from its resting place under the counter top and opened it before turning it to face Willow. "Ive got a wireless connection."

Willow giggled and nodded as she looked up the site that held the pictures she had been looking at when contemplating getting a tattoo. Tara had always been against it, telling her that there were other, more important things to spend her money on. Now, faced with life without the blonde witch and a future that she would lay out for herself, Willow felt suddenly free. She didnt have to please anyone, or try to be what someone expected. She was good enough for herself, and Spike hadnt complained about her, so she figured she was good enough for him.

Finding what she was looking for, she looked up to see Spike leaning against the counter, giving the other man a light as a thin veil of smoke formed around his own head. "I found it."

"Lets have a look, then. Should have known itd be a fairy."

"Its not just any fairy. Its by Nene Thomas, and its called Pumpkin Patch. I like it cuz its all sexy and witchy, but still gentle."

"Seems to suit you, then." After a quick look, the man nodded and hooked his printer up to the laptop. "Itll take me about an hour to transfer it to what Ill put on you to use as a guide."

"Youll be open that late?" Spike had glanced at the clock on the wall before facing the shops owner.

"Names Doodle, and I should tell you that this is going to be a $300 job."

"Told ya, mate, money isnt an object when it comes to Red and what she wants." Spike had spoken before Willow could, and she frowned up at him slightly even as her stomach did that now familiar twisting thing.

"Ill be here, then. Im open at night and sleep during the day, anyway."

"Well go grab something to eat, and be back then. You want something?"

Doodle looked up from the page that had just slid into the printers tray. "Chocolate milkshake, if you can manage it, would be great."

Spike nodded and Willow waved. "See you in a bit, then."

* * * * * * *

They had found a Dennys not far from the shop and spent the next half hour arguing over who was going to pay for the impending artwork. Willows stance was that it was going on her body, and that Spike had bought far too much for her already. Spikes arguments centered on the fact that she was the best friend he currently had, that shed been through a lot, that he was going to be blamed for it anyway, and that he had more than three lifetimes worth of savings to her half-life accounts. In the end, Willow picked up the tab for dinner and one large chocolate shake to go, and agreed to let Spike pay for the tattoo.

"Okay," Doodle shuffled them into his shop and turned off the sign and locked the door behind them. "I dont think anyone else is getting worked on tonight. You decide where you want this pretty little fairy?"

Willow pointed to the flat space on the front of her right hip. "Right here."

Looking from her petite body to the outline he held in his hand, Doodle went to the copy machine as he spoke over his shoulder. "Youll need to skinny out of everything under that skirt, then. Well just push it up so its out of my way. Your boyfriend there gonna have a problem with this?"

"Not a problem, mate." The warning gaze shot to Willow kept her from saying anything, and she wondered at its meaning.

When the situation dawned on Willow, she felt the hot surge of a blush sweep over her chest and face. "Spike?"

"Its okay, pet." Spike kissed her temple and led her to the chair that was set up for her. "Ill make sure everything that isnt being inked stays covered up, and that nothing happens that shouldnt be."

"I think hes human, Spike." Willow grinned up at him as he removed her boots before throwing his duster over her lower body and gestured for her to get on with her disrobing underneath it.

"Doesnt bloody well matter, Red." Spikes eyebrows rose as the stockings, garters, and ruffled panties appeared in her hands. He chuckled as Willow blushed a deeper red when she realized he was studying her underthings and jammed them into one of the dusters pockets. "Someone messes with you, theyre messin with me."

Willow could only nod as Doodle appeared in the doorway and motioned Spike to a seat a little to Willows left as he pulled a pair of rubber gloves from a box on his table. "Lets see that hip, little girl."

The kind twinkle in his eyes caused the insecurity to evaporate, and Willow was left with only a faint blush that soon disappeared altogether as the man plied his trade.

* * * * * * *

The sky had the barest pink tinge as Spike helped a slightly limping, and thoroughly happy, Willow from the confines of the tattoo parlor. The finished ink work started on the front of her hip as she had asked, the fairy sitting on the largest pumpkin sat prominently on the swell of her hipbone, and a few smaller vegetables and vines trailed along to the back. The oranges and yellows of the gourds were reflected in the fairys wings that were then lined in red, and the black and white dress she wore would be both flirty and pretty... Once the redness and swelling went away.

Spike had sat by her the entire time, talking with her and Doodle, getting drinks from time to time, and holding her hand when the needle came in contact with a bone. His sharp eyes had taken in everything the other man did, and Willow knew that he would have ripped fingers, or an entire arm, off if anything unwanted had been attempted. He held the mans business card in one hand, given should anyone ask where she got the work done or if any unforseen problems should crop up, along with a small tube of A&D ointment to cover the colored area to help prevent scabbing and the loss of ink.

They had just passed the club, now dark and derelict in the early morning light, when an arm snaked out of the darkness of an alley and wrapped around Willows waist. She squeaked in fear and pain as a decidedly ungentle hand bit into her tender hip.

"Let her go." Spikes eyes had flashed to yellow before Willows eep had fully registered to her own ears, and the ridges of his true face slid over his alabaster brow as he growled low in his throat.

"Make me." The other mans hand was sliding over Willows side, and she could smell the alcohol in his breath.

"With pleasure, mate." Spike glanced at Willow and flicked his eyes to the side.

Willow got the idea that she was supposed to duck, and did just that. As her head left its spot in front of the mans chin, Spikes fist slammed, lightening fast, into his nose. Willow heard an odd crunching noise and felt something wet shower the back of her head and neck before both men howled in pain. The man behind her let go and stumbled away from them, leaving Willow to stand looking down at the vampire at her feet.

"Spike?" Willow touched his shoulder, getting only a whimper in response.

Looking up, she saw one of the most welcome sights she could think of. A taxi was heading towards them. The off duty sign was on, though, and it was going in the wrong direction!

Seeing that the window was down, Willow waved her arm in the far too large coat just as it began to pass them. "Ill pay double!"

Brake lights lit up, and the taxi turned in the parking lot of the store across the street before pulling up in front of the redheaded witch and the huddled vampire.

The driver, an older man with graying hair helped Spike into the backseat, and Willow was glad to see that the demons face had retreated. "Wherere you headed, kid?"

"Up to the Mark Hopkins Intercontinental."

The man looked at Willow sympathetically. "You know you dont have to be with a drunk, right? There are lots of nice, decent boys that would treat you right."

Willow shook her head. "Its not like that! Someone grabbed me, and he got a little beat up stopping it."

"Mmmhmm," the driver wasnt believing her, but he simply got in and started the meter.

Willow paid the man double the fare, as promised, as well as a very generous tip for helping her get Spike to the front door where she had to show the doorman her room key to be let in. Making it to the elevator, she slumped down onto the seat and counted the floors along with the little electronic panel.

Spike was walking much better by the time they reached their floor, and was able to lean against the wall as Willow unlocked the door to their suite. He curled up on the bed as soon as Willow got him close enough.

"Go change, luv. Dont put anything on that will rub against that ink too much." Spike rubbed at his temples until Willow moved his hands out of the way and placed a cool, wet cloth over his forehead.

"Whyd you do that, Spike? I wasnt hurt, just scared."

"Thats why, pet." Spike toed his boots off, and Willow followed suit before he pulled her up onto the bed beside him. "I dont like seeing you scared. I hate seeing you crying. I loathe seeing you hurt in any way. Its just not in me."

Willow felt the room disappear, Spikes arms around her waist and the solid wall of his chest at her back the only things that remained real, as he spoke.

"Im falling in love with you, Red." Spikes hand settled over her mouth before she could try to come up with a reply. "Its too soon after the witch for you, Willow. Youll figure it all out sooner or later. Just go to sleep, now."

Willow nodded mutely, lying awake as she felt Spikes arms slowly relax as he slipped into sleep. It was well after eight in the morning by the time Willow, still confused and with a fluttering stomach, nodded into dreams.

Chapter 10

~~~~~~~~~~ Spike ~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a week since Spikes world had changed, and he had accompanied Willow to San Francisco. An entire seven days of basking in the company of his Red with no one to mess it up for either of them. He had woken up that morning to the feeling of a warm body pressed against his side, soft breath puffing against the bare skin of his chest, as Willow slept on. He had lain there, not wanting to move for fear of waking the fiery goddess at his side and thought of how he would hate to go back to sharing her with her little friends when they went home.

So, it was with a sinking stomach that he answered the ringing telephone late in the afternoon on the 25 th of December. He didnt remember Willow giving the watcher her number, but the old man was nothing if not resourceful.

"allo?"

"Spike?" Giles soft, cultured voice floated down the telephone wire. "Is Willow there, please?"

"Not ere, Watcher." Spike smirked at his small victory.

"Oh," Giles managed to fit a wealth of emotion into that single word, and Spike realized that his week in heaven was over. "Theres a problem that we need her help on."

"Yeah?" Spike held the phone between his ear and shoulder as he moved around the room gathering up all the clothes that he and Willow had managed to accumulate over the course of their stay.

"Yes, a demon." The watcher huffed slightly, and Spike quirked an eyebrow.

"Figured that out for myself." Spike turned as he caught the scent of Willow coming through the opening door. "Youre in luck. Here she is."

Spike held the receiver out to Willow, catching her bewildered expression. "Its the watcher. Something about a new demon."

"Hi Giles. I was gonna call you later, but Merry Christmas anyway." Willow set her bags down and shrugged her jacket off as she listened to what the Englishman said. "So Buffy couldnt kill it?"

A thrill went through the vampire, only to be stopped by Willows small grin. The Slayer couldnt be dead if Red was smiling at all.

With a small shake of his head, Spike began shoving his things into the bag he had brought with them before realizing that there were now too many to fit. Willow had taken it upon herself to purchase him any- and every-thing that she thought he might like or look good in while shopping, and he now had more clothes then he thought he had owned in the last fifty years combined. Remembering that the phone in the other bedroom was on a different line, Spike moved through the sitting area and picked it up.

Hitting the button for the lobby, he nodded to himself when an overly polite and happy feminine voice answered. "Front desk! This is Jessica. How may I help you?"

"I was just packing and realized, with all the things weve bought in the city, that we no longer have room in our suitcases for it all." Spike had put on the cultured, blue-blooded accent he had used when alive. He used it when he wanted to fit in or be remembered as nothing more than a slightly eccentric rich man. "Would there happen to be a store close by that would sell that sort of thing?"

"Yes, sir," the voice sounded just as cheery as it had when the woman greeted him. "Ill transfer you to the concierge, and hell take care of it."

"Thank you, Jessica. Have a nice evening."

"You too, sir."

There was a soft click as he was put on hold, and he nearly jumped when a voice spoke behind him.

"Whos Jessica?"

Willows eyes belied the frown on her lips, and Spike grinned. "Wouldnt you like to know."

The redheads eyes lost their laughter. "I have to go back."

"Figured that out, luv. Im callin the concierge to get some more luggage to cart everything home in."

"Youre coming with me?"

Spikes answer was cut off by the phone being picked up, and he asked about luggage once again. After telling the man what he required, ignoring Willows questions on why they needed as many garment bags as he said, Spike thanked him and hung up.

"Our new bags will be here in less than an hour, ducks." Spike ran his eyes over the dresses hanging in the closet and the things lying on the bed. "Better start folding and deciding what goes where."

An hour and a half later, two bellhops stepped out of one elevator as Willow and Spike emerged from another. Spike almost felt sorry for the two young men who maneuvered the baggage cart and toted garment bags over their shoulders. The feeling was gone in a flurry of movement as he pulled the worn leather of his beloved coat over his arms and shoulders. Leaving Willow to stand by one of the large sofas, Spike went to settle the bill. He barely batted an eye at the final tally of $7,800. It was actually far less than he expected it to be, and he bid the man at the desk a fond farewell before collecting the receipt.

"Oi! Red!" Spike grinned as several people jumped and everyone looked. "Lets go, luv."

"You always have to make an exit, dont you?"

Spike nodded and wrapped a possessive arm around her waist as they moved to the parking garage. Handing the attendant his ticket, Spike gave an appreciative whistle when the DeSoto slid slowly toward them. The dents and bangs had been worked out. The body had been sanded down, primed, and repainted. The new, deep red paint nearly screamed from the side accents and back corner panels. The rest of the car was an unrelieved black, and Spike grinned openly as it stopped in front of them.

"This is a sweet car, man." The young man slid out from behind the wheel and came to stand beside Spike and an obviously shocked Willow. "I mean, there were some dents, and the paint was a little worse for wear, but other than that, this baby is cherry!"

"When did you do this?" Willow turned wide green eyes to Spike.

Spike chuckled, loving the shine of happy surprise in her face. "I didnt do it. I just paid for them to bang out the dings and give her a paint job."

"I doubt that paint combination was around in 1959." Willow grinned up at Spike as the attendants went about loading their things into the trunk and backseat.

It was Spikes turn to be surprised. When did the witch become such an expert on cars? "You know cars?"

"Well, Im research girl. Arent I?" At Spikes slow nod, Willow continued. "When you came to town, someone mentioned it. Im good with dates and numbers, to I remembered the date easily enough. The Adventurer was top of the line for DeSoto, so that wasnt hard to remember either."

"So, you *do* know cars, then." The kid, Spike decided he was too young to even buy alcohol, was gazing at Willow with a twinkle in his eye that Spike found decidedly too familiar.

The demon tried to force its way forward, and Spike trained his eyes on the redhead. If she had looked at the boy, some little scrap of nothing, with the look of love and devotion he had seen trained on the blonde witch, the look he dreamed of one day being in her eyes when she looked at him, Spike didnt know what he would do. Little snaps of pain sizzled along his temple at the unbidden images that whispered into his head.

"My dads younger brother Stephan was into cars." Willow still hadnt taken her eyes off the DeSoto. "When I was little, and they went away on trips, my parents would leave me with him and my aunt. Wed spend a whole summer going from car show to car show with his Mustang. Id like to go visit them sometime soon. Its been too long."

Spike caught the soft sadness in her voice and knew that there was more to the story than what was being said. He had been around the Scooby gang long enough to know that Willows parents were never around. There was a moment for him to wonder how old Willow had been when the visits to her uncles house had stopped. Did they slowly peter out, or was she ripped suddenly away from what sounded like a happy retreat from the lonely existence of her family home?

Their things were loaded, and Spike shook the heavy thoughts from his mind. He tipped each of the bellhops and the car attendant before leading Willow to the passenger side of the car. Opening her door, he held it for her before moving to the other side and sliding behind the wheel.

He looked over at the small redhead as they rode in silence. The CD player he had had installed in the dashboard of the car held a disk, but it didnt seem right to play it somehow. There was something sad about driving through the streets filled with people going to see family and last minute holiday shoppers with Willow. They were going home, but Spike was far from looking forward to it. He was leaving the safely cocooned world that they had lived in for the past week and going back to the hellmouth.

Strangely, the hellmouth, and all the dangers that went along with combating the evil that was drawn to the equally evil place, were at the bottom of the list of things Spike was worried about. What were they going to tell the slayer and her merry band of hapless idiots? There was no way that the slayer or her watcher were going to believe that he didnt somehow take advantage of the girl in her weakened and mourning state, even if the very thought of doing so made him very nearly physically ill. Neither they nor Xander would want to hear it.

If he *did* somehow manage to make it through the night without turning into a big pile of dust, how did he go back to living in that dank crypt after knowing the warmth that was Willow? How did he tell his body that the softness of her sleeping form wasnt something it was supposed to be used to? Would he even be able to make it through the coming mornings without her soft, sleepy voice telling him good morning as she drifted off beside him?

Willow had been keeping his hours for the past week, and he knew that she would have just as much trouble adjusting to it as he would. Would she lie awake, struggling to keep from missing him beside her, or would she simply fall back into the routine without so much as a sleepless dawn? Which would he prefer? He didnt wish her discomfort of any kind, but he hated to think that she could move past him and the friendship they had built without giving it a thought.

"Spike?" Willows quiet voice drew him out of his thoughts, and he realized with a start that they were only an hour away from Sunnydale.

"Pet?" Spikes voice trembled ever so slightly, and he cleared his throat as he searched for the pack of Marlboro cigarettes he had shoved into the pocket of his coat before leaving the hotel room.

"You havent said anything since we left San Francisco. Thats not like you."

"Thinkin pet," Spike rolled his window down to vent the smoke.

"About what?"

Spike took a deep drag before glancing at her. "Your friends arent going to be happy that you left with me, luv."

"I dont care." Willows face hardened into determined, grim lines. "I needed to get away, and so did you. Its not like we did anything wrong, and its really none of their business anyway."

Spike gave a soft chuckle. "I know that, and you know that. Hell, they probably know that. It just wont make all that much of a difference when they decide to gang up on you and drag you back into the routine of life on the hellmouth."

Willow blinked at him in the darkness of the car. "Are you going to stop being my friend?"

"Hell no, Red," Spike took glances at her between watching the road and dragging on his cigarette. "Not unless you want us to go back to the way we were before we left."

Willow shook her head and pressed a soft kiss to the vampires cheek. "Not a chance. Im counting on you to always be my friend."

Spike patted the hand the rested on his arm before leaning over to finally turn on the cars stereo. "Always, Red. Always."

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