Train Journey

I stare at the glass. The reflection of my foot and knee resting on the carriage wall in front of me are superimposed on a crack in the pavement outside. I try to distort the line by moving my foot. But it doesn't work.

As I swallow, I can taste that distinctive taste at the back of my mouth. My ribs - they don't feel different, I'm just more aware of them, and it feels like there is a gap inside of me, the length of me, gently prodding, asking to be fed. I try to remember if it is anything like being hungry. But I haven't been hungry in so long, I can't remember.

Anyway. All I want now is a cigarette.

And I can't bloody well have one. Stupid no smoking rules. 'Course, I could just go for it, but I'm not in the mood for an argument.

*Sigh*

So here I sit, toying with the silver ring on my finger, twisting it back and forth as I think about all addictions that I have, but shouldn't succumb to if I know what's good for me.

Bloodlust is different to this again. It transcends hunger. It's a need, a fight for survival. I don't have that now. I took care of dinner before I got on the train. On the way here actually. A young girl walking her dog. Doesn't she know it's dangerous to be out, alone, late at night? But this isn't Sunnydale. It's not America. It's not even a rough neighbourhood. Easy prey.

I haven't had the bloodlust in years. I've been peckish, or had cravings for a particular age or race, but I'm too good a hunter to go very long without a meal.

Of course, I'm not counting the whole wheelchair period. That doesn't count.

Besides, even then I didn't get super-hungry. I guess I lost my appetite for a while. I stayed alive, though. I came through it. I always come through. Even if it means drinking from animals, or the sick. It never tastes as good though.

I've seen my fair share of sickness and death, mostly at my own hands, or the hands of my 'family'. It still makes me smile when I remember the first time Dru fed. She looked up at me with blood covering her mouth and growled in pleasure. I knew we'd chosen well when I saw her. I think that was when I loved her. Such passion, such glee, such fire.

Such a messy eater. 'Course, they always are till they learn not to waste it. I was even worse. Angelus used to go mad with me, the mess I'd make. He always was such a clean freak. I liked to just dive right in.

Literally.

Its ridiculous me being hooked on ciggies. I don't even need to breathe. Dru always said that it was all in my head, which makes perfect sense, but she also said that the moon sang to me and put those ideas in my head, which doesn't make the slightest bit of sense. That's Dru for you.

~~~

We've passed another station. That fat, stuttering conductor nearly had kittens with that gang of brats running on and off the train. I bloody hate little bastard kids, but it was all I could do to keep a straight face when he went past beetroot red, stinking in his own sweat. He's one of those 'heart attack waiting to happen' kind of people. And I know what I'm talking about. I can smell it in his blood, and it's not very appetising. I could put him out of his misery, but mercy killings aren't really my cup of tea. Know what I mean?

There is a little blonde girl across the carriage from me. Watching me. Maybe she's looking at my hair. Hers is only slightly darker. Hell, at least the Slayer's looked halfway natural, and I know I can carry it off. I mean, I might not have known what I looked like with it for a decade or so. I kind of hoped I didn't look like a prat, because I sure as hell wasn't going to change it. That would just be admitting I was wrong, and we can' have that now, can we?

Then I got my gift, and now I know what I look like. From Willow. Beautiful Willow, the Slayer's little witchy sidekick.

Crazy little girl. I should have killed her when I had the chance. I'm still not sure why I didn't. Maybe I still will, but not yet. I guess I owe her, and besides, I don't think the Slayer would take too kindly to it. Perhaps I'll just let sleeping innocents lie.

I saved her from being a midnight snack for some vamp in Sunnydale a while back. I was actually going to take her for myself. Her blood smells particularly sweet, and I've always had a sweet tooth. It was the scent that led me to where they were. Then, as I got closer, the sound of weeping, and laughter.

Not so far from the street I had been strolling along, Big 'n' Stupid had her trapped and was taunting her. She was pinned against a wall, her arms over her head, held by one of his hands. He had her suspended with her feet dangling above the ground. She was struggling, but it was hardly a fair fight. So I did the gentlemanly thing.

I pulled the corner post of a nearby fence out of the ground and whacked him over the head with it. He dropped her and she crumbled into a heap. I was expecting him to at least fall over, but all the big bastard did was rub the back of his head, turn around, look me up and down and grin at me.

He took one look at me and summed me up as a pushover.

Big mistake.

I could have staked him straight away, but there's no fun in that. Besides, I wanted to work up an appetite. He'd got to play with his food, and now it was my turn.

I took the cigarette out of my mouth and flicked it away, and stood there, cool as a cucumber, waiting for him to move. When he did, he was slow, but he was strong, so I knew it had to end quickly. He ran at me like a big gorilla, growling and snarling the whole way. I don't know if he was trying to scare me or what, but it's gonna take a little more than that to get to me. Rank amateur. Honestly.

When he reached me, I sidestepped and shoved upwards into his chest with my fence post. He ran a couple of steps past me, slowed, stopped and turned around. Thank goodness for picket fences.

He had time to look up at me with disbelief over the fence post sticking out of his chest and see me shrug at him before he exploded into a cloud of dust.

I waved the dust out of my face, as the post clattered to the pavement, and swaggered over to where Red was on the ground. There's nothing like getting into a scrap and coming out on top to make you swagger.

She was still kneeling where she had been dropped, a look of shock on her face.

I walked up to her real slow, and crouched beside her, not saying a word. I expected her to start stammering and begging for her life. Or maybe pass out or something, but no such luck. The silly little thing chucks her arms around me and hugs me tight and starts thanking me over and over.

Then she really did start to babble. ‘Oh, Spike, thank you... so scared... thought he was going to kill me... ’ Yadda yadda yadda. Don’t they ever learn? Hello people, evil vampire here!

While being hugged by such a warm little body was nice, I was about to take advantage of it and sink my teeth into that pale, soft inviting neck with the blood rushing madly just beneath the surface, all sweet and wet and delicious and practically screaming out my name... when her damn necklace touched my skin. And what fashion accessory can no friend of the Slayer be seen without this season? A bloody cross. The pain made me jump back and I snarled as I dropped her.

Of course then she remembers I'm a big bad vamp, and gets scared.

Gotta give it to the girl, though, she is brave. In a really, really cute sort of a way. She goes and pulls a pencil, of all things, from one of her pockets and brandishes it at me like I should run away in terror. Big tearful eyes and the cutest little pout on her face. I think I might have actually giggled, she looked so damn sweet.

So then I turn on the charm. I won’t hurt you, pet. Just saved your ass, pet. Bloody great big vampire he was, pet. Didn’t try and hurt you, did I pet?

Again with the yaddas.

So she lowers the terrifying “Pencil of Slayage”, and warily asks if she hurt me with her cross. I looked down at the nasty little burn and shrugged it off. I’ve had worse. A lot worse.

So then, instead of being terrified, she hides her face in her hands and started to apologise. To me! I was completely gobsmacked. Then, of all things, she takes my hand and starts pulling me along behinds her, babbling the whole time about one good turn deserving another, and how I can’t help what I am and I’d helped them in the past and so on. You get the idea. Turns out we’re right near her house, so we turn off the road and I get led down the garden path. Tell me there’s no irony there.

She tells me to wait on the deck at the back door and goes inside. Out she comes after a few minutes with a tube of burn cream and starts to put it on my burn mark.

A pointless exercise, like I said, I’ve had much worse than that being tortured, and even as foreplay.

What? Don’t look so shocked, vampire, remember? Grrr. But I let her play at Florence Nightingale anyway.

I can't help but grin madly at this stage. What a precocious child. I mean, we’d never really had the chance to ‘talk’. Just talk, just the two of us. It was always the bloody Slayer or Angel I had to deal with. Well come on, how often does the sidekick really get to talk to the arch nemesis? Aside from the odd comment yelled from safety behind the Slayer, there’s just no time for these things, not unless I kidnap them or something. And I just haven’t had time for that sort of carry on recently.

But I liked this one already, and was considering letting her live for another hour or so, or maybe turning her. There’s power in this one, you can sense it crackling in the air around her. The funny thing is, she doesn’t even know it. Too young, you see. Imagine the potential in her as a vampire, once she’d had time to get comfortable in her skin and learn her talents a little. Gives me tingles.

And she’s cute, you have to give her that. Gorgeous little body on her. It would make Dru jealous. Maybe they’d fight over me... hmmm. Mental pictures as we speak. As a human though, she always looked like she wouldn't say boo to a goose, and there she was, tending the "wounds" (ahem) of a vampire. Still makes me smile when I think of the motherly look of concern on her face.

She even apologised for not inviting me in to her house, because, obviously, I was an undead creature of the night, who might (Shock! Horror!) take advantage of such an invitation either then or in the near future. She also said that she didn't want to wake up her parents, but I knew that that was bollocks, as I couldn't hear any sound at all coming from the house. She was all on her lonesome and completely at my mercy. But still I didn’t kill her. I’d already fed that night and to feed from her now would just be for pleasure, which was fine by me, but I hadn’t decided what I wanted to do with her, and if there’s one thing I’ve learnt by now above all else it's Don’t-eat-the-Slayer’s-Friends-unless-you’ve-got-a-bloody-good-reason.

So there we sat in the dead of the night, her babbling away, and me trying to hatch a dastardly plan that wouldn’t end with me blowing away on the early morning breeze.

~~~

I couldn’t believe it. I mean, okay, I could believe it, a lot of strange stuff has happened on the Hellmouth, but still. There are limits. A little late night conversation with Spike was not how I had expected to round off the evening. I should be tucked up safe and sound in bed by now, but being pursued by not the smartest, but definitely the meanest vamp that I’d encountered in a while had definitely thrown a wrench into the works as far as those nice, simple, normal plans were concerned.

And I know, I know, out alone at night in Sunnydale. Not so smart. Even people who don’t know about vampires still don’t go out alone at night in this town. But I got a little too big for my boots. Earlier that evening, in the company of Buffy and various other well trained demon hunters (that is, Xander and Giles) I played a central role in dusting a group of sneaky, dastardly, evil, and um, very young and inexperienced vamps, and so I felt that Willow Rosenberg, Vampire Slayer Sidekick Extraordinaire would be just fine going home alone.

Big mistake.

Soon after leaving the rest of the gang, Xander, Cordelia, Buffy and Angel, on their way to the Bronze, after said slayage, I headed home, intending to get some extra study done. Hey, those extra credits don’t earn themselves, you know! But of course, best laid plans - I get stuck with the psycho stalker vamp from hell. Wait, do vamps actually come from hell? Or do they have their own demon dimension? Note to self: ask Giles more about vampire origins, doesn’t hurt to be clued up on these things.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah. This vamp obviously liked to play with its food before chowing down. Lucky me. He followed me the whole way home. At first I thought he was just some weirdo, what with the distinct lack of the usual pouncing and biting routine.

Another big mistake. Getting a regular old mugger, rapist, or maybe even a nice molesting murderer type would make a welcome change in this town. But no, lucky old me gets a vampire all to herself. Well, two vampires if you count Spike.

Spike.

Weird. What the hell was I doing? I mean we were chatting. Not normal, not normal. I guess it was the relief of seeing a relatively friendly... well, ok, not friendly... a familiar face after the horrible helpless alone feeling that comes when you’re helpless and alone, and being followed home by a demon at night time. And strangely, it had felt that much worse knowing that I was so close to home the whole time.

Anyway, once my stalker was dust, I felt kinda safe again. I know that was stupid. Again with the stupid. Maybe the Hellmouth is effecting my intelligence. But he had saved my life. Spike saved my life. There’s something I never thought I’d hear myself say. And y’know, it was nice to just sit and talk. Have a conversation with someone that didn’t revolve around slaying, computers or my unrequited love for Xander Harris.

Sigh.

I suppose talking about slaying with a vampire would be considered bad form? Or maybe give them too many pointers.

But Spike surprised me. I mean I knew he was smart in an evil, suck the marrow from your bones kind of a way, but he’s generally an intelligent guy. I suppose you can’t help but pick things up after being around for so long.

So there I was, having intelligent conversation with a vampire on the back porch in the dead of the night, trying to figure out a way to end it and say our goodnights without me ending up as a Willow flavoured vampire chew toy.

~~~

I went and lost track of time, didn’t I? I can always sense when the sun is coming up, it’s a kind of tingle. Runs up and down my spine and then starts prancing around in my stomach. Starts off as a warning and gets more and more unpleasant as the sun gets closer to rising. Once the tingle starts, and I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck rising, I know that I have to get to shelter, or it’s bye bye Spikie.

I didn’t half feel like a prat when I realised where I was. All the way on the other side of town from my lair, that’s where. And, yeah, ok, so it’s an abandoned warehouse near the docks at the moment, but as I am a vampire, I get to call where I live a ‘lair’.

So there.

Anyway, so I jumped to my feet and I nearly knocked Red flying. Scared the hell out of her, I’ll wager. I could almost see her reaching for her pencil stake again before I yelled out, ‘Bloody Hell! Sunrise!’

She looks at her watch, calm as you like, and comments, ‘Oh wow, I didn’t realise it was so late. I mean early. I mean... yeah, sunrise.’

Then she goes and pulls that face again. You know the one when she looks like a kitten that’s trying to figure out how to get a particularly tricky knot out of her favourite length of string. I actually paused for a moment to watch her before I remembered the whole ‘burning to death in excruciating ball of flame’ thing.

Yeah, that thing.

‘How are you going to get the whole way to the docks before the sun rises?’ she asks, kitten face still firmly in place. It was kind of nice to know that was what she was thinking about.

‘I don’t bloody know,’ I told her. ‘It’s miles away, I’ll never make it in time.’ Then I did a double take. ‘How did you know that’s where my lair is?’

She raised a slender eyebrow. ‘Lair?’ she asked with a smirk, but didn’t wait for me to answer. ‘Slayerette privileges,’ she told me with a shrug.

‘Fantastic. Now I have to move. Again,’ I snarled. ‘But that’s neither here nor there at the moment.’ I turned to face her. ‘Red,’ I began beseechingly before dropping to my knees in front of her and taking both her hands in my own. ‘Willow.’ A few octaves lower, gets ‘em every time. ‘Invite me in. Please.’

‘What!’ she squeaked. ‘No way. I’m not falling for it.’

‘Fall for what?’ I asked, my baby blues open wide and innocent. ‘This isn’t a game, luv. I have to get indoors, or I’m toast in about...’ I glanced towards the lightening sky and embraced my inner tingle, ‘twenty minutes.’

She didn’t look convinced.

‘Come on, Willow. Please!’ I was starting to get worried. ‘I promise I won’t kill you. Won’t hurt you. Not even a nibble.’ I put my hand on my heart. ‘Scouts honour.’

‘No. I’m not inviting you into my house. Forget it. You’ll just have to find somewhere else.’

‘There is nowhere else! Look around you. We’re in suburbia hell. Every building around here is someone’s home. Which means I can’t get in. Please, I really need your help. If I wanted to eat you, I would have done it before now, wouldn’t I?’

This had her stumped.

‘Hmm.’ She seemed to be considering it. ‘Why didn’t you?’

I knew that my surviving to see another night all hinged on the answer to that question. I thought for a moment. She was a human girl, about, what, eighteen or nineteen years old? Friend of the Slayer, and from what I could tell she took the job of being a good guy home with her at night. This girl was a goody goody. Helped old ladies across the street, squeezed the toothpaste from the end of the tube, not the middle, and helped save the world in her spare time. What sort of reason would she fall for? Then it hit me, even though the very idea of it disgusted me beyond belief.

I would have to tell her the truth.

‘Well,’ I began quietly, hanging my head and stared at the delicate little hands that I still held in my own, ‘you’re chums with the Slayer, and it would probably mean a slow and painful dead of a thousand toothpick stabs if I ever hurt you.’

She considered this, but didn’t speak, seeing that I had something else to add.

I steeled myself and looked up into her face without raising my head. In a voice that was barely a whisper, I told her.

‘And, um, you sort of, well really remind me of a-ah... kitten that I had just before I was turned.’

She tried valiantly to continue to look sternly at me, but I could see a smile beginning to break through, twitching at the corners of her mouth.

‘A kitten?’ she asked, somewhat sceptically.

I nodded. ‘Yeah, when you do that “there’s trouble afoot, and I have innocent bystanders to help” face.’

‘What was its name?’

I swallowed nervously before answering.

‘Fluffy.’

I blushed so deeply that my cheeks must have held every single sodding drop of stolen blood in my body.

‘Fluffy,’ she repeated. I hung my head in shame, unable to continue seeing her look at me like that. All soft and mooshy. Nyyaaccgh. Big Bad, Big Bad, I’m still the Big Bad. Evil vampire, yep, that’s me.

A soft warm hand place itself under my chin and she pulled my head up so she could again look into my eyes.

‘Spike,’ she said solemnly. ‘You’re invited.’

I snapped my head up to look at her properly. She’d said it. She’d bloody said it! I wasn’t going to die on her manicured lawn complete with the sappy little daisies. She’d said it!

Her grin mirrored my own as I jumped up, grabbed her hand, and dragged her towards the back door of her house.

‘Just for tonight,’ she told me as I swung open the door, crossed the threshold and pulled the heavy curtains behind me.

‘Of course, kitten, whatever you say. Whatever you say.’

~~~

Spike grinned brightly at his flushed little captive. Keeping tight hold of her hand he pulled her through the kitchen, along the hall and started up the stairs.

‘Where are you going?’ she asked as she was pulled along.

‘Your room, luv. I just know it’s going to be all pink and fuzzy.’ He paused at the top of the stairs, cocked his head slightly to one side and sniffed the air.

‘It’s this one,’ he announced with an air of certainty, and opened one of the doors on the landing with a flourish. ‘Ha. I knew it. Pink fuzz.’

‘It’s not that pink. Look! Blue bits here. A-and white! The curtains are blue, too,’ she stated as she closed them against the encroaching sun. ‘And it’s not really fuzzy at all. Umm, except for these cushions I guess. And my stuffed animals are more fluffy than fuzzy. And this bit...’

Spike held up both his hands in defeat. ‘Okay, okay, you’ve made your point. You have a multi-coloured room of many, many diverse and varying textures.’ He turned in a complete circle. ‘It’s just like I would have pictured, though. It’s very you.’

‘It is?’ she asked, hesitantly.

‘Yep. It’s a Willow the witch room.’

‘Yeah, I guess it is,’ she smiled.

They stood in silence, the sudden change of scenery seemingly having sucked any and all new topics of conversation out of their heads for the moment. Spike mentally shrugged, and threw himself onto her double bed, knocking a number of the aforementioned stuffed animals to the floor in the process. After leering at her suggestively and patting the edge of the bed, which caused her to blush furiously and busy herself tidying at her desk, he stretched out, lacing his fingers behind his head, and rested his ancient boots on top of her pristine covers.

‘Nice bed you’ve got here. All squishy like. Makes a change from sleeping in a crypt. Or in my car.’

‘You’re not sleeping in my bed, Spike,’ she said firmly, before turning to him. ‘You have a car? Where on earth do you keep it?’

‘I leave it with Vampire Valet. They run a service out of that Creaky Tree cemetery, you know the one past Ogden?’

‘You mean Shady Oak cemetery. And I didn’t know vampires had valet.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘We don’t. Luv, honestly. Where were you the day they were giving out sarcasm? I mean, did you know that the word gullible isn’t in the dictionary?’

‘It’s not?’ she asked in surprise, her eyes flitting towards the large dictionary on her top shelf before she caught herself and glared daggers at him.

Spike let out a chuckle. ‘I’m sorry, but you’re not exactly a hard target, pet,’ he said with a smile. Then in a resigned tone, he told her, ‘I’ve got a deSoto, and it’s stashed. I haven’t needed it for a while, and it’s a bit banged up anyway. Needs a little work done, hasn’t been any point in me fixing it up when I could just steal a new one if I need to.’

‘Hmm,’ she nodded absently. ‘I kind of like deSotos. What colour is it?’

‘Black.’

‘Of course,’ she said with a smile.

‘Yeah,’ he sniffed, ‘it's ok, but I’ve been thinking of getting a new one. I dunno, maybe trading it in for a hen weigh.’

Willow looked at him in confusion. ‘What's a Henway?'

Spike took a deep breath while he considered. ‘Oh, about three pounds.’

A vicious stuffed animal of retribution flew across the room and smacked Spike squarely on the forehead. Then it was Willow’s turn to chuckle as she heard him let out a most undignified, not to mention unmanly, squeak.

~~~

‘Hold still, will you?’

‘Aren’t you done yet? I’m really getting really sodding bored.’

‘You asked me to do this. I’d be quite happy going to sleep now. You’re lucky I’m entertaining you at all. Why don’t you read a magazine, or paint your nails or something. WITHOUT moving!’

‘Wil-low!’ he whined.

‘Grrr. Hold. Still. I’m nearly finished. Five more minutes, then you’re free. And don’t scowl, or I’ll draw you that way.’

‘Cool,’ he said, and then couldn’t keep the smile from sneaking across his face at her telling him off. The little girl was just full of surprises. He had started nosing around her room, much to her chagrin, and was interested to come across a sketchpad, charcoals and pencils. From there it had only taken a few minutes of wheedling to ‘convince’ Willow to sketch him.

After what had seemed like hours, Willow finally seemed satisfied with her work and laid down her pencil. Somewhat shyly, she presented the pad to him.

She chewed nervously on the side of her thumbnail, waiting for his verdict. Spike stared at the sketchpad in front of him, studiously keeping his face void of all expression.

Unable to wait any longer, Willow extracted her thumb from her mouth.

‘Well? What do you think?’

‘I’m still a handsome bugger, I see.’

‘And so modest with it.’

Spike just grinned at her and went back to studying the picture. She set one knee on the bed behind him and looked over his shoulder, hoping somehow to see the picture through his eyes.

‘But you like it?’ she asked nervously.

‘Yeah, I do. I really do. Um, thanks,’ he mumbled without looking up. ‘I haven’t seen what I look like for a very long time. Nice to know some things really never change.’

As he didn’t turn around to face the half-kneeling girl behind him, he missed the surprise at his thanks and praise of her, followed by a small, but very happy smile. Very happy that her skills were appreciated, and that she had managed to bring pleasure to him.

Also very happy that the pleasure hadn’t involved any of the usual weird and unmentionable ways that a vampire would normally derive his pleasures.

‘Hmmm,’ he considered, ‘I don’t know though, might be time for a little window decoration. Maybe something different with my hair? What do you think about me getting it done in a duckdoo?'

She considered for a moment, trying to picture Spike with anything other than the familiar waves of peroxide blond. ‘I’m not really sure, Spike. What’s a duckdoo?’

Spike turned to her, his piercing blue eyes opened wide, the very picture of innocence.

‘Goes quack.’

~~~

Sod it all. We’ve been sitting here for hours now. Well, maybe closer to twenty minutes, but I’ve got places to be, people to kill. I haven’t got all night you know.

Honestly, you’d think that rail services would improve over the years. But no. Couple of wet leaves on the track and the whole bloody world comes to a screeching halt. You’d think that maybe the punctuality gods would cut me a little slack due to my helping to avert the Apocalypse. And my blatant not maiming and killing of an innocent. That’d be Willow, for all you dunkles that can’t put two and two together.

Huh? Yeah, well... so what about the other thousands of innocents I’ve slaughtered? I’m a vampire. How many times do I have to keep reminding you people? Honestly, a little friendly banter and the fact that I managed to stay alive for more than a week while living in the same town as a Slayer and you’d think I was Cuddlevamp. Ooochy smoochy tickly vampire, everyone’s best friend.

Piffle.

And besides, there’s no such thing as an innocent. Once you’re old enough to walk, talk and cut your own meat, you’re fair game as far as I’m concerned.

Thank fuck for that, we’re moving. I’m all one for keeping a low profile when needs be, but goddamnit, there’s only so much a drop undead gorgeous demon can take. If I had to listen to that bloody woman behind me talking about the price of the bloody chicken sandwiches she bought in her bloody local shop for one single second longer I’d been morally and ethically obliged to leap over my seat and rip. Her bloody. TITS OFF!

Grr.

Sniff.

Okay, I’m good.

Well, not good, I’m evil. But I mean I feel a bit better.

Okay, so there I was, sprawled out on Willow’s bed, trying not to soak up too much of the pinkness. I’m not too sure what the hell I was playing at, really. This was usually the point where I kill and eat her, but like I said, don’t kill the Slayer’s friends unless you have a bloody good reason. I mean what if I treated myself to a Willow the witch blood bath, only to have Buffy interrupt me when she came over for their weekly toenail painting session.

You see my predicament.

And, okay, so I kind of liked... do like Willow. Don’t tell anyone, I have enough bloody trouble keeping my reputation unsoiled without any extra help, thank you very much. But me liking someone has never been grounds for letting them live. Usually just makes them taste all the sweeter. Or, y’know... I’ll turn them.

But, no. I was hanging out practically playing Barbies with her and slobbering my thanks for the picture she drew of me.

It was a bloody good picture, though, I wasn’t buttering her up or anything. Done in charcoal, all hard blacks and smudged greys. The only colour she’d put in was for my eyes, this beautiful shade of blue that just set the whole thing off.

Damn I’m gorgeous. Sometimes I wish there were two of me.

Yeah, so I’m narcissistic. Big deal. Wouldn’t you be if you were me?

Yeh. I thought so.

I still have that picture. It’s a little banged up now, but it lives in one of the pockets of my ever-present duster.

Anyway, there I was, hanging out with Willow. I’m such a ponce. I was getting worried that I might suddenly feel the urge to leap up, throw on a pretty dress, maybe put my hair in curlers and want to start talking about (gasp!) boys!

I hadn’t quite reached that stage yet, but we were running out of things to talk about again. I know I’m a charming bloke, but let’s face it, there are only so many things that me and a Sunnydale teenager would have to talk about at the best of times. And, yet again, I’m a vampire, and unless we wanted the conversation to take a turn towards topics of the pointy stick variety again, it was best to fill up the time. And I wasn’t sleepy, so I wasn’t going to just arse around all day while she got her beauty sleep in, now was I?

‘So. What turns you on, Willow?’

‘WHAT!?’ she splutters.

‘Calm down, luv. Don’t have a coronary on me.’ Then I reconsidered. ‘Although then I could have a snack without you threatening me with a pencil. Or a cuddly toy. So go right ahead and have a coronary if you want.’

She looked at me in this strange, almost enraged way. Maybe just a tad put out.

Sigh.

‘What I meant was, would you like to play a game?’

Raise of an eyebrow. ‘A game?’

‘Sure. It’s very simple. Called “The Best Things in Life”. You tell me stuff you like, and I’ll tell you. Helps pass the time, like.’

‘Oh. We could always try sleeping to pass the time.’

‘You saying you want to go to sleep with me in the room?’

‘Hmm, when you put it like that... let’s play! Um, what are the rules?’

‘You tell me your favourite things in life, and I tell you. We take it in turns.’

‘Uh huh. This is your idea of a fun time?’

‘Dru liked to play. It was a way of killing time during daylight hours when we were bored. Always started off about tea parties and her stupid bloody dollies, but then we’d get to the fun stuff. Like she’d tell me exactly what she liked, and then I’d do it. They really were some of the best things in life. Like this one time, she told me what she really liked to do sometimes with fresh blood. You just take a little, while it’s still warm, you know? And then you smear it all over your...’

‘Wah!’ Willow yelled, closing her eyes tightly and holding her hands up in front of her. ‘Too much information. Way, way too much information. Let’s just play, ok?’ Her eyes opened again. ‘And no weird explicit Vampire Favourite Things in Life,’ she added quickly. ‘I don’t think my delicate little human ears could take it.’

‘Ok, ok,’ I grinned at her. ‘No weird explicit Vampire Favourite Things in Life.’

‘Alright,’ she agreed. ‘You go first.’

‘Ok. The Best Things in Life. Or should that be unlife? Well, anyway. Um, laughing so hard your face hurts.’

‘Oh. Ok. That wasn’t so bad. The Best Things in Life. A hot shower in winter.’

Trying not to picture her too clearly in the shower, all flushed pink from the hot water, kind of misty around the edges because of the clouds of steam, the suds running down her...

*Ahem.*

‘Hearing your favourite song on the radio. Not that that happens too often anymore.’

‘What is your favourite song?’ she asks me.

‘Sex Pistols,’ I stated without thought. ‘Anything by the Pistols. Then there's the Ramones. Anti Nowhere League. Stiff Little Fingers. Or Sid. Definitely Sid. Punk’s not dead, you know.’

‘Yeah, but Sid Vicious is.’

‘Don’t count on it.’ I told her with a knowing look.

‘You don’t mean... he’s not a... He’s not. Is he?’

I opened my mouth to tell her that he was in fact, alive, relatively speaking, and well, in Europe somewhere. And still getting into just as much trouble as he always did. But before I could, she stopped me again.

‘Forget it. Just forget it. I really don’t want to know. Today has been weird enough. It’s my turn, right?’

Just imagine if I told her about Elvis...

‘Yeah, it’s your turn.’

‘Okay.’ Her eyes drifted closed for just a second as she tried to get her mind back on the game. ‘Umm... getting mail. And email.’

‘Okaaaay. Driving too fast. Although in my opinion, there’s no such thing as too fast.’

‘Um hmm.’ She looked at me disapprovingly. ‘Lying in bed listening to the rain fall outside.’

‘Bubble baths,’ I stated.

‘Bubble baths?’

‘Yeah. So? There’s nothing wrong with that. Hot water feels wonderful when you don’t have a body temperature. And there’s always rubber ducks.’

‘What about the bubbles?’

‘Forget it,’ I growled, wishing I’d never brought it up. ‘It’s your turn.’

The little witch smiled at me in that hated “aww, isn’t he cute. Liddle widdle vampire takes the cutsey wootsey bubble bath” kind of way. Yuk.

‘Hot towels out of the dryer,’ she said when she'd finished making puppydog eyes at me.

‘Chocolate milkshakes.’

‘Finding the sweater you want is on sale for half price.’

‘Hot chocolate.’

‘I think you have a bit of a chocolate fetish.’

‘Hot chocolate with those little marshmallows,’ I told her. ‘And you said ‘fetish’.’

She blushed, and moved along swiftly with the game.

‘A good conversation.’

‘Giggling.’

‘Going to the beach.’

‘Hmm,’ I considered. ‘I’d agree, but it’d have to be moonbathing and midnight swims for me. Um, lemme see. Laughing at an inside joke.’

‘Accidentally overhearing someone say something nice about you.’

I thought for a second, trying not to gag at her suggestion. How the hell could one person be so pure and innocent? Maybe it’s all an act. Something she puts on just to fool people so that if she ever got caught umm, shoplifting, or in her case more likely embezzling a billion quid, sorry, dollars from some internet company no one would believe that she ever did it.

Yeah, prob’ly.

‘Chinese.’

‘You like Chinese food?’ she asks, confused. And yeah, I kind of do. Sweet and sour. Black bean sauce. Those naughty adult fortune cookies you can get. Yum. But that wasn’t what I meant.

‘No, Chinese people. Angel liked gypsies, and just look where that got him, I like the Chinese. That war was a wonderful time.

But I was digressing.

‘Eww, Spike! I told you! No “Vampire Best Things in Life” or I’m not playing.’

‘So you're telling me... what? I can’t have torture, killing, maiming, bloodsports, bloodbaths, bloodletting, bloodplay, constant drug and alcohol abuse with no long term effects and rampant animal sex?’

She gave me this weird look. Strange, I felt very certain that in no way, shape or form was I going to win this argument. Like her will had strength mine could only hope one day to aspire to. That kind of thing.

That girl has some serious resolve.

‘No,’ she tells me simply.

‘Spoilsport. I was saving all the best ones to last.’

‘Tsk, vampires. Running through sprinklers.’

Now I was really confused. ‘You like vampires that run through sprinklers?’ I asked her.

‘No, just the sprinklers.’

‘Oh,’ I said, still not too sure what she was talking about. ‘Umm, walking around the house naked.’

Well. I had to try and shock her somehow.

‘Oh yeah, that is fun!’

What!? Willow? Naked? All over the house? Did I just hear that right?

Huh?

‘Huh?’

But she ignored me.

‘Umm, playing with a puppy.’

‘Finding cigarettes or money in your coat that you’d forgotten about.’

‘Friends.’

'Enemies.'

'Family.'

‘Lovers.’

‘Having someone play with your hair.’

‘Swings.’

‘Swings?’

‘Swings.’

‘Like swinging on a swing set swings?’

‘Yep. Swings.’

I happen to like swings. I always wanted to see if I could swing right up over the bar. Haven’t managed it yet, but one day...

‘Okaaay. Whatever floats your boat. Beating demons.’

‘Hey!’ I interjected. ‘No “Anti-Vampire Best Things in Life”, or I’m not playing.’

Suitably chastised, she apologised.

‘Sorry.’

‘S’okay. Watching the sunset.’

‘But you can’t watch it.’

‘No,’ I agreed, ‘but I’d like to. I remember how beautiful it was. And besides, after the sun sets is when I get to go out to play.’ I flashed my patented devilish grin.

She thinks for a moment, then goes all gushy. She’s thinking like a girl, about to say something cute mushy. I can practically see it happening.

‘Falling in love.’

‘Tuh. Love. It’s overrated. Always ends badly.’

And I should bloody well know. Women are nothing but trouble. You think demons are weird? Forget about it. Women are hands down the strangest creatures ever to walk the face of the planet.

‘Besides,’ I continued, ‘being loved is fortunate, but to be hated is to achieve distinction.’

‘Spike, you are so... you are so weird!’

‘Everybody is somebody else's weirdo, luv.’

‘So who’s weirdo are you? And do they know that you’re out alone after dark? Um, light?’

I looked down my nose at her. ‘I refuse to enter a battle of the wits with you. It's against my morals to attack an unarmed person.’

‘Oh yeah?’ she asks, rising to the bait.

‘Yeah.’

‘Yeah?’ She raises her chin and starts posturing, little hands clenched into cute little fists. ‘Yeah? Well... well, you’re just dum.’

‘Ooh. You got me.’ I grabbed my rather manly left pectoral muscle, miming being shot. Or staked, I suppose. ‘Good comeback, pet.’

Another thing I’ll give her credit for. She doesn’t half know how to sulk. Folds her arms, turns away from me, the whole nine yards. Won’t answer me, no matter how much I try and sweet-talk her.

It’s starting to get pretty dull to tell you the truth, so I do the obvious thing.

I grab her.

And I kiss her.

~~~

Kissing me! He’s kissing me! Spike.

Spike is kissing me.

No! Bad vampire. Get off. He’s too strong, I can’t get free. Don’t like this, he’s not letting go. Holding me so tight.

So tight.

Holding me.

Too strong. All those muscles. Arms and chest and stomach and legs.

And, oh god, lips and tongue.

And...

And...

And I’m kissing him back.

~~~

Oh this is so bad. I can’t be doing this. I don’t think I’m even here. The real Willow left the building a couple of minutes ago. Yup, can’t be held accountable for my actions if I’m not really here. He’s still kissing me, and I’m not even putting up a fight anymore.

And it feels so good. I can’t help it. I can hear my heart beating, my gums are tingling and my knees feel weak. I mean, if he wasn’t holding me up I don’t think I’d be standing. No sir-iee, I’d be on the floor at his feet in a little puddle of melted Willow goo.

Are those moans coming from me? That one did, but that deeper one... oh god. I made him groan. And it sounded so good.

This is crazy! I don’t even like Spike. But I just love what he’s doing with his tongue. Oh... oh, and now he’s doing it to my neck. Would that be classified as a lick, or a nibble? And there’s more tingles. Why have I never been kissed like this before? Everybody should have been kissed like this. A lot. And I do mean a LOT.

Going even lower on my neck, moving my shirt out of the way. Ohh, fingertips. I should stop him now. Definitely. But is that my body I have pushed against him? Oh dear, I think it is. Don’t care. Nope, can’t help it. Must be some kind of vampire hypnosis. Or maybe he’s just that good at this. I suppose he’s had a lot of practice. I mean, over the years he and Dru must have...

WAIT A SECOND! WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING LETTING A VAMPIRE KISS MY NECK?!?

~~~

Spike stumbled back a few steps, shocked at the strength the little witch had put into her shove against him. He stared at her, just as breathless as she was. She looked glorious with her hair messed up and her cheeks flushed pink.

I did that, he couldn’t help but think proudly, and for once there wasn’t even a trace of his usual mocking.

‘Spike!’ she squeaked. ‘I’m not... I mean I don’t... don’t think that you can just... I won’t let you. Nope. Not happening.’

Then he laughed softly. Just a little.

‘Calm down, pet. I just wanted to see.’

‘Wanted to see what?’

‘Wanted to see if you tasted as sweet as you look.’

‘Oh,’ she replied, still looking shell-shocked, her cheeks burning. ‘And, uh, did I?’ she asked quietly.

‘Did you what?’ he asked nonchalantly.

‘Tasteassweetasilooked?’ she asked in a jumble, looking down at her own toes.

For a second he regarded her fondly, wondering if she hadn’t pushed him away exactly when she had, would he have stopped? With his face buried in her neck, kissing and tasting her. Would he have pulled the rest of her shirt away, tossing it aside and explored the rest of her soft, warm skin? Or would he done what his body had been really calling out for?

Would he have bitten her?

Many answers ran through his mind, many of them R rated and steamy, some of them NC 17 and downright bloodthirsty, most of them things that if he had vocalised, Willow probably would have attempted staking him for, but in the end, he just grinned.

‘That’d be telling now, wouldn’t it, pet?’

She would have blushed again if her cheeks hadn’t already been such a deep shade of smudged pink. Lifting an ever-so-slightly shaking hand, she smoothed down her hair, as he once again turned his attention to nosing around her room, deciding that a swift and abrupt change of direction would keep her off balance.

‘Oooo, Monopoly,’ he said, lifting a battered box from the top shelf. ‘Wanna play? I get to be the top hat!’

~~~

‘Alright then, luv. I’m off.’

She looked a little confused. Understandable, I suppose. She had just spent a glorious day in the company of a stunningly gorgeous vampire (that’d be me) albeit a temporarily insane stunningly gorgeous vampire.

‘I can’t believe we just did this.’

Had I missed something?

‘What did we do?’

‘Today.’ She waved her hands around her in an all-encompassing gesture. ‘All of it. I’m a Scooby. You’re a vampire. You saved my life and we hung out. We played Monopoly and you sulked when I won. In my bedroom. I made you hot chocolate. And you didn’t try and bite me once.

Nibbling doesn’t count. Nibbling doesn’t count.

And you kissed me.’

She looked me right in the eye. ‘Who are you and what have you done with the real Spike?’

I held my hands out kind of like Fonzie does when he realises that his hair is just perfect the way it is, coz he’s just so damn cool.

‘It’s just me, cutie.’

‘So it really happened then.’

‘Yep.’

‘Huh. Reality’s weird.’

‘Reality is a just temporary illusion caused by a lack of alcohol in the bloodstream.’ I told her. Quite bloody seriously, too.

And it made her smile. Willow smile number three. Yes, I have them numbered, I’m just that sappy. Smile number one is the “bright and clear as a summer’s day, light up her whole face, I’m so good and nice and pure it could just make you yak” smile. But it is beautiful.

Number two is the close-lipped smile with the raised eyebrows thing accompanied with a little shoulder shrug that she does when she’s embarrassed, like when her babbles run away with her. So that smile happens a lot.

Number three is the smile she gave me then. The first time I every saw it. Kind of a crooked mixture of cheeky grin with just a hint of “I’m not entirely as pure and innocent as I have the whole world believing I am”.

Number three is definitely my favourite.

~~~

I didn’t see her for a couple of weeks after that. Didn’t think too much of it. I was laying low, the Slayer was busy hunting down some other poor bastard. Life on the Hellmouth was ticking over as usual.

Then, out of the blue, I ran into her in a one of the town’s many and varied graveyards.

Literally.

I turned a corner on my way back from Willy’s, and something small and soft hit me and bounced off my chest.

I stuck my cigarette in the corner of my mouth, and squinted at the small, soft thing for a second before realising that it was her.

‘Spike!’ she squeaks, all pink and breathless. Just the way I like it.

‘Willow!’ I said, overly pleased to see her, as I was just a little tipsy. ‘Whatcha doin’, pet? Out looking for a little action?’

Apparently, she’d be out on the hunt with the almighty Queen of Pointy Sticks herself, and they’d run into a spot of bother. A spot of bother which seemed to laugh in the face of a pair of little girls armed with, you’ve guessed it, pointy sticks. Honestly, you’d think that they’d plan for every contingency, what with living on a Hellmouth ‘n all, more than just your friendly neighbourhood vampire to worry about, but no. The pointy sticks have it.

Turns out there was some big bad demon type after them, and in all the confusion, she’d got separated from Buffy.

‘So what do you want me to do about it?’ I asked her when she’d finally stopped talking.

‘I don’t know, how about, ooh, lemme see... HELP!’ she shouted at me, with quite a bit more sarcasm than I was used to from her. I suppose it was all the excitement.

‘That’s what the Slayer’s for, innit?’ I told her. ‘We may have spent a nice time playing with your dollies, luv, but a day of hot chocolate and a bunch of delicious sexual tension doesn’t make us friends.’

‘SEXUAL TENSION!’ she yelled, and then caught herself, as though afraid someone would hear. ‘We have no sexual tension,’ she hissed. ‘Zip. Nil. Nada. None at all. Not even a little bit. But that’s not important right now, ok? Look, Buffy’s in trouble, are you going to help me or not?’

‘Probably not, luv,’ I shrugged. ‘I don’t really fancy getting all banged up in a fight for the Slayer of all people, now, do I?’

I could see she was winding up for a really fantastic tirade of abuse at me for that one, when one of the demons that they’d been having so much trouble with came thundering around the corner straight towards us.

‘An Unguis Demon?’ I asked her, my mouth hanging open in surprise, but not surprise at the seven foot hunk of scaly demon barrelling towards us, oh no. ‘You were running from an Unguis Demon? Oh man, is the Slayer losing her touch or what? Don’t you kiddies do the research thing any more?’

Out of the corner of my eye I could see her putting her hands on her hips, getting so angry at me that she was forgetting to get out of the way of said approaching demon. S’all right, though. Spike to the rescue. Again.

Just as the big bastard reached me it let out its battle cry, supposed to strike fear into the hearts of its enemies, but I’ve always thought they sounded kind of like rutting bulls. Anyway, I duck to the side as it reaches me, taking care to duck towards Red, so I can push her out of the way at the same time.

Hey, I said I wasn’t going to get myself into a fight to help the Slayer. That doesn’t mean I wanted anyone to kill my witch without my say so. I mean, she might come in handy one day. For spells and stuff. And it doesn’t hurt to have a friend in the enemy camp, you know.

Yeah, that’s exactly bloody why. Just piss off, would you? I don’t have to explain jack.

OK?

Anyway, as it stumbles past me, I stomp down good and hard on its toes. It howls in agony and hops around clutching its foot. I took a final drag of the fag I was smoking and flicked it away.

‘You see,’ I told her conversationally as I stomped on the demon’s other foot, making it scream even louder and fall onto its back, rocking itself back and forth holding its great big plates of meat in scaly hands, ‘these big scaly bastards' reproductive organs are in their feet. So you stomp on them, and it’s just like you kicked them in the bollocks. Then they’re easy pickings.’

I walked around the fallen, whimpering demon and grabbed its head, twisting sharply. The deliciously sharp snap followed by a few wet pops made Willow jump and then turn an interesting shade of green.

Guess I must have had more to drink at Willy’s than I thought, coz the force of my snapping the thing’s neck made me stagger back a few paces. That’ll teach me for trying to look all Bruce Lee. Then I manage to get myself entangled ever so gracefully in a bloody great big bush just as the saviour of the world Slayer comes running breathlessly around the corner looking for Willow. I’m glad to say that she was looking the worse for wear, with scratches on her face, holding her arm protectively across her chest.

‘Willow! Are you ok?’ she asks.

God, she’s got a whiny voice.

‘I’m fine,’ Will tells her.

‘How did you get away?’

‘Well Spike...’ Willow starts to explain, turning to where I’d been standing, but she paused in mid-sentence, as I seemed to have conveniently vanished into thin air. What I’m actually doing is hiding behind a tree, trying my damnedest not to rustle, but that’s something that she never needs to find out.

‘Spike was here too?’ Buffy spun around dramatically, ever conscious of danger.

That’s me. Bloody fantastic being dangerous.

‘We have to get out of here,’ she says. ‘Those demons are tough as hell, and I can’t fight with my arm like this. Let’s go.’

‘Ok,’ Willow agrees, understandably more than a little confused by the night’s proceedings.

They set off away from me and I was looking forward to getting myself untangled from that prickly tree, when I hear a dazed Willow asking, ‘Did you try stomping on their toes?’

~~~

Willow picked up the pink plastic receiver from the phone in her bedroom.

‘Hello?’

‘Willow? Is that you?’

‘This is she. Who’s this?’

‘It’s Spike.’

‘Sp... Sarah, hi, how are you? Sarah. It’s Sarah,’ she said brightly to someone rustling in the background. ‘Yep, good ol' Sarah from my Wicca group. So, Sarah, what’s up?’

‘Can’t talk, huh? You devious little thing you.’

'Um, no, not really.’

‘Bet you’re wondering why I’m phoning you.’

‘Well, yes, you could say that.’

‘I can’t just phone to say hello?’

‘Sp... Sarah, you never just phone to say hello. Ever. What’s up?

‘Oh, nothing much. Just the usual, you know, killing, maiming, torturing. Vampire stuff. And you?’

‘Very funny. What do you want?’

‘Well it’s a funny thing, really.’

‘Uh huh.’

‘Yeah. Seems that demon I ever so kindly slayed for you has a very angry fan club who sort of want to kill me. I need a little spell doing, and just so happens you’re my favourite witch. So what do you say?’

‘A spell? I say no.’

‘Willow. Sweetheart. It’s only a teeny weeny little spell. Besides, you owe me.’

‘Owe you! I never... hold on.’ Willow made a sound like a weak choking cough. ‘Buffy, could you please get me a glass of water? My throat’s really dry.’

Buffy raised a questioning eyebrow, but nodded at her friend and left the room.

‘Nice one, luv. Now, listen, what you can do for me is...’

‘Nothing doing, Spike. I can’t do this.’

‘Do what?’

‘This phone call, this pseudo friendship, this going against my friends. It has to stop.’

‘What are you on about? I saved your life, didn’t I? Twice!’

‘I know. And don’t think I don’t appreciate it. But when it comes down to it... hello! You’re still an evil vampire. I’m sorry, I had fun, but you’ll turn on me, just like Angel did. I guess you can’t help it. It’s in your nature. I’ve been thinking about it, I’m sorry. No hard feelings.’

‘No hard... Willow! Wait, all I’m asking for is...’

# Click #

He stared, furious at the dead receiver in his hand.

‘Bloody well ‘click’ to you too!’ he thought before slamming it back onto the cradle.

~~~

Buffy looked thoughtfully at Willow as she gulped at her water.

‘Wicca friend, huh? Sarah, was it? I don’t think I’ve ever met her.’

‘No. No, you wouldn’t have,’ Willow told her sulkily. ‘She’s a sucky Wicca, and I... I never liked her, anyway.’

~~~

At a high table, in a corner of the Bronze, Willow sat dejectedly fiddling with the straw in her drink. Her very sweet, very pink, not very strictly non-alcoholic beverage that one of the football team had kindly bought for her when she shyly asked him to.

Buffy was still dancing and doing some serious door-watching waiting for Angel to show up. Xander and Cordelia were arguing... no wait, strike that. They had been arguing, but were now making out in the corner.

And Willow? Willow was quite happy sulking into her drink. Not in the mood for partying, not even sure why she was still here. Taking another sip of her drink, she was strongly considering just getting her coat and leaving without telling anyone, when a familiar British accent spoke in her ear.

‘Hello, luv. What’s a nice girl like you doing in a demon infested rat hole like this?’ he asked pleasantly.

Without looking up, she sighed.

‘Spike, what does it take to get you to leave someone alone?’

‘That’s an easy one. Just cast me a little spell, and boom! Before you can say “hocus pocus” I’m outta here.’

Annoyed at her lack of response, he sat on a stool next to her, concealing himself in the shadows as only a vampire can, effectively hiding in full view. The Slayer was in the room, after all, and you never could tell when your pesky, hulking, great lump of a Sire would show up to ruin your fun. He watched Willow stirring the ever-decreasing liquid in her glass until the tinkling of the ice cubes began to get on his nerves, so he tried again.

‘Willow. Sweets. I want you to do something for me. You want me to piss off and stop bothering you, I’m guessing before the Slayer gets bored shaking her tits around on the dance floor and catches us all cuddly in the corner.' He took a deep breath. 'So. Here’s what I’m thinking.’

He leant forward to impart his groundbreaking idea to her.

‘I’m thinking that you cast the little spell for me, and then I’ll leave you alone. For good.' He leant back again on his stool and grinned at her. 'What do you say?’

‘I say no. For the hundredth time. No. And I think that Buffy has finished shaking her... I think she’s on her way over, so if you don’t mind making with the leaving now.’

He glanced across the dance floor, and saw that Buffy was actually working her way further away from where they sat, wiggling her way towards the bar.

He sighed and slouched forward, resting his chin on his hand.

'You know,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘I could just torture you until you help me.'

Willow paused in her continual drink stirring, and turned around very slowly to face him. Spike was expecting shock, even fear, but what he got was an evil grin.

'You wouldn't dare,' she told him with an air of certainty. 'You lay a finger on me and I'll never help you. Witches don't perform well under duress anyway. And then I'll have to get Buffy to kick your ass all over Sunnydale, and maybe we'll let Angel have a go. And then when I'm feeling better, I can put my magic to some good use, and turn you into a big, fat, warty vampire toad. Put you in a cage, and leave you out to watch the sunrise.'

'Alright then,' he reconsidered with a slightly miffed pout. 'So the torture's out.' Then he smiled at her, impressed with her display. 'I wouldn't have done it anyway, precious. I like the way your skin looks now. You know, all soft and smooth.' He stretched out to her and ran a single finger lightly along the length of her arm. She tried not to react, but he could see the goosebumps that raised on her arm in the wake of his touch. His fingertip reached the end of its journey along her arm and he withdrew his hand. 'Not flayed piece by piece off your still living flesh.'

That earned him a nervous intake of breath by Willow.

'Alright,' she said indignantly, 'now that we have that cleared up, I think I’ll storm off in... this direction.'

She stood, turned on her heel and tried to begin said storming off, but before she could, a strong arm had coiled itself around her and she felt a hard, cool vampire body pressed up behind her.

'Willow, please.' The familiar deep voice said in her ear, sending disobedient tingles down her spine. 'It's a really, really simple spell, but I never was one much for magic, and I can't cast it on myself. Please. I could take out a couple of these guys no problem, but the one I killed for you was like a king to them. They’re out for my blood. I... I need your help.'

The emphasis on the words ‘killed for you’ were not lost on Willow, but neither was his admission of need. He needed her help. Shock mingled with distrust, but eventually inside Willow a decision was made, and she sighed against him.

'Fine. I'll do it. Whatever it is, I'll do it. Within reason!' she added quickly. 'If I think you're up to something evil, I'm out. Then you can leave me the hell alone, and we can go back to being the very best of enemies, and the next time I see you, I can stake you with a pencil, no questions asked. What do you say?'

‘I say terrific!’ He let her go and clapped his hands together. ‘When do we start?’

~~~

'Grr. Shut up,woman!'

His growl was met with another high pitched tinkle of delighted giggles.

'Willow! Cut it out! It's not that funny.'

He watched, dismayed, as she held her sides, painful from laughing so hard, and leant back in her chair, over extending herself so she slipped and fell onto the floor with a bump, knocking her magic book from the table top as she did so. This only made her laugh harder.

'I can't... can't believe you m-made me do this,' she gasped between peals of laughter. 'If you'd told me what the spell was f-for, I would have done it straight away.'

Spike clenched his fists in anger as she looked at him and set off into another round of breathless laughter. A warning growl brought her to her senses as she realised that laughing at an angry vampire probably wasn't the smartest of ideas. Somewhat composed she picked herself off the ground and stood before him. Very proud of the way she recovered her composure she looked him in the eye as his anger began to fade.

Then she made the mistake of looking him up and down again and let out a huge snort of laughter, followed by more giggles.

'Wil-low,' he growled at her in a warning tone.

'I... I can't help it!' she gasped, bordering on becoming hysterical, tears of laughter running down her face. 'Look at your... yourself!'

Spike took a cautious step back from her, and looked himself up and down.

Devilish good looks. Check. Smart leather and denim. Check.

Then he paused as he looked down at himself. Willow had performed the spell for him, no more questions asked, when he had showed her precisely what was involved. And it had worked. Perhaps a little too well, he thought, wishing now that he hadn't told her to 'spice it up a little, Willow, go ahead, I trust you.' Still, he thought with a sniff, hindsight is 20/20, and the spell was only supposed to last twelve hours.

He hoped.

To redeem himself in the eyes of the Unguis for killing their leader, he would be challenged to a battle with their best. An assassin, bred from birth to be the strongest and most vicious of the Unguis race. Their champion.

And how were they chosen?

You’ve guessed it.

The Unguis offspring with the largest feet was chosen, which in turn signified their size, strength, stamina, nerves, sexual prowess, and general badass-ness. So Spike had decided that two could play that game, and get one up on the demons by casting this spell. Now he had the biggest plates of meat in town, and would most certainly intimidate any and all Unguis he came across. If only walking wasn’t quite such a problem.

Plus he was barefoot as the spell didn’t cover growing a pair of scuffed Doc Martins by about 30 sizes, so he kept stubbing his cauliflower sized toes on everything, which was what had started Willow laughing in the first place.

He lit a cigarette and waited, quite patiently for a hyperactive vampire with a mean temper, for her to calm down.

And tried not to look at his feet.

~~~

'Where are we going?'

'They're creatures of nature, luv, they want to meet in the forest.'

'How are we supposed to find them?' Willow asked as she dodged another tree branch swinging straight at her face, and was beginning to wonder if Spike was doing it on purpose. At least she wasn't having any trouble walking through the undergrowth in the darkness, as Spike was leading the way, his huge feet flattening a path for her to walk on, not to mention terrifying dozens of small woodland creatures.

'There's a clearing just over here. That's where they told me to be.'

'Ok.'

Willow had asked to come with him to the 'meeting' with the Unguis. She had managed to keep a straight face when she asked him, but she really wanted to watch as she couldn't imagine anything funnier than Spike waddling around trying to fight another demon with big feet.

'Why did you just agree to meet them, anyway?'

'It's a matter of honour. I killed their prince bloke, and now they want their chance at revenge.'

'Spike, you don't have any honour.'

'Yeah, but they don't know that, do they? This means I get to have a bloody good fight, and get the bastards off my back once and for all. They're happy. I'm happy. Everybody's happy.'

Soon, there were no more branches swiping at Willow, as the unlikely pair entered a clearing in the forest. She looked around her, seeing that the Unguis had already arrived, and were waiting for them, standing in a rough horseshoe formation.

Peering over Spike's shoulder, she tried to pick out which one of the gathered demons was their champion. It didn't take too long to figure it out. If she hadn't spent the early part of the evening laughing her ass off at Spike's newly acquired feet, she wouldn't have believed the sight before her now. Their champion, who stood motionless, his back to them, stood over six feet tall, with bulging muscles, and the second largest pair of feet that Willow had seen on any demon.

Well, on any humanoid demon. This was the Hellmouth after all.

She could see the gathered Unguis begin to nudge one another, and whisper in their language when they saw Spike's new 'endowments'.

All the whispering and fidgeting stopped, however, when the champion turned suddenly to face Spike, and let out a single barking yell of challenge at him.

'Here, Red, hold this. Won't be a tick.' Spike said, shrugging off his duster and throwing it at her, before letting out a yell of his own, and running, as best as he could, towards the other demon.

The horseshoe closed into a circle around the pair, and a short, but violent battle played out before them. Willow was horrified to discover that she had to bite on the inside of her cheeks to keep from laughing at some points. The fighting style seemed to consist of a lot of circling, and trying to catch your opponent of guard with wildly aimed, but very heavy kicks and stomps. She couldn't figure out why they had bred a champion who was so obviously unsuited to any other fighting style, and wondered if Spike wouldn't have been better keeping his own small but agile feet for the fight. It was obvious it was tiring him to have to lift his heavy feet time and again.

Unable to contain herself, she let out a snort of laughter at one point when Spike lifted a foot in the air and waggled it tauntingly in his opponent's face. He just looked so cute with his big feet wiggling in the air and his tiny fists clenched behind it.

After receiving some furious glances from some very large demons, she hid behind her hand, trying not to smile, look at the fight, or figure out how she had managed to find Spike 'cute' in the middle of this bizarre fight to the death.

She didn't look up again, even at the sound of some particularly vicious stomping and crunching going on, until a loud collective hissing sigh went up from the group. Peeking through her fingers, she saw Spike, standing victorious over the fallen body of their champion. He had a few visible bruises, and a split lip, but that was nothing compared to the demon lying on the forest floor. Spike must have had a lot of fun stomping with his new feet, if the bloody carcass before him was anything to go by.

Silently, two of the watching demons moved forwards and picked up their fallen champion. Nodding stiffly at the panting vampire, they turned with their burden and left the clearing.

The remaining Unguis looked at the ruffled vampire with anger, but also with respect. One by one, they nodded silently at him, turned and walked away from the clearing.

Trying to appear unobtrusive, Willow sidled up to Spike's side to whisper at him.

'So, we're done now, right? I helped you, and you kicked his ass.'

'Yeah, cutie. They won't bother me anymore. I beat them. Almost fair and square. They don't like it, but it's their honour on the line. So, you and me, we're done. Debt paid in full. I hate you again, ok?'

'Great!' she grinned at him, passing him back the duster. 'I hate you too. See you later, Spike.'

And with that she wiggled her fingers at him, waving goodbye and turned to leave, walking in the opposite direction to the way that the Unguis had gone.

Spike stood for a second, watching her retreating form.

'Willow? You do know if you tell anyone about this I'll have to kill you?'

'Fair enough,' she replied. 'You do know that if you kill me the spell becomes permanent?'

'What?!' he spluttered, 'You wouldn't dare!'

Spike was horrified. He couldn't believe the little witch could be so vindictive.

'Guess you'd better not kill me then.'

He was also mighty impressed.

'I guess not,' he replied with a half smile.

She couldn't help but grin back at him. The evening had worked out to be a very entertaining one indeed, and she would have loved to tell her friends about what had happened, but that would only get her in more trouble than it was worth. This would have to remain her and Spike's little secret.

She looked around, trying to get her bearings and set off once more.

'Willow?'

She stopped again, and turned to look at him, still smiling. 'Yeah?'

'Erm, can you help me home first? The spell doesn't wear off for another three hours and it's hell trying to walk in these things...'

'Sure. I’m not, ah, entirely sure which way is home, anyway. And it's more like four and a half hours.'

'Oh, bloody hell,' he sighed. 'Could it get any worse?'

'Well, don't tell witches to "spice it up a little" if you can't handle the consequences,' she told him as she walked back to him and held out her hand. 'Gimme your hand, and I'll balance you.'

'Thanks, Will,' he said, dropping the duster around her shoulders.

'No problem Spike. And just for the record, I still hate you.'

He smiled fondly at her.

'I still hate you, too, witch.'

~~~

Spike snuck around the corner, commando style, making sure his now normal vamp-sized feet didn't make a sound where they landed. He opened the door without a squeak, and let himself into the house. Once inside, he plastered himself against the wall, willing himself to be invisible, and began inching along. The next obstacle was the stairs. Taking them two and three at a time, he moved, cat-like until he reached the top, uncannily missing every creaky floorboard on his way. Then he was on the home straight. Just a few more feet along the hallway until he reached his target. He ever so slowly manoeuvred around the corner, slipped through the partially open door... and pounced.

He was greeted with a high pitched scream as Willow jumped ten feet into the air, dropping the armful of clothes she had been busy putting away in her room.

‘Spike! What the hell are you doing here?’

‘I just thought I’d come to pay my favourite witch a visit.’

‘You have to leave. Now. What if my parents had been here? And... and... Buffy! Buffy’s coming over,’ she said, trying to convince herself as much as him.

‘I don’t think so, luv. I passed Buffy on the other side of town, and she looked pretty busy. I think we’ll be by ourselves for a while.’

'Ourselves? A-as in just you and me? Again? No way.'

Willow grabbed her overcoat and headed towards the door.

'Willow? Where are you going?'

‘What?' she asked distractedly. 'To Buffy. If she’s in trouble I have to get the others, I have to help her.’

Spike rolled his eyes.

‘Calm down. I didn’t say "in trouble". I said "busy". She’s Angel busy. Out for a romantic little moonlight stroll, aren’t they? Nothing like a little demon slaying to get the blood pumping,’ he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Willow just glared.

‘Why are you here?’

‘I already told you. I thought I’d pay you a visit. It’s been a while.’

‘Not long enough. You have to leave,' she said harshly, and then tried softening to a smile. 'Please. I asked you nicely.’

‘And I appreciate your politeness, poodle, but I have something to ask you.’

‘It’s not another spell, is it? Because I told you, that was a strictly one time deal.’

‘No, not a spell, just a question. Something that’s been rattling around in my brain for a long time now. Bugging me, you know?’

‘Yeah? What?’ She was curious, but didn't really want to know what it was that had dragged him halfway across town to ask her.

‘Why did you invite me into your house?’

For a moment Willow froze in indecision. ‘I-I’m not... I mean, I don’t... I didn't...’

‘Not such a wise thing to do, inviting in vampires,’ he interrupted. ‘You know I was toying with the idea of munching on you? Maybe turning you? I mean you must have known what I really wanted to do to you.' Willow understood every nuance of his meaning as he began stalking across the room to her. 'You often take chances with your life like that?’

‘I live on the Hellmouth! My best friend is the Slayer. You do the math.’

He shook his head slowly. ‘Not good enough, pet. Why did you invite me in?’

‘Screw you, Spike! I made a mistake, ok? I’ll uninvite you if it’ll make you feel any better.’

‘You see I was doing a little thinking,’ he told her, as his leisurely trek across the room ended, and he invaded her personal space. ‘You were prepared to put your own life in danger that night to help me out, unnecessarily I might add, by taking the risk of inviting a vampire into your home. Then I saved your arse. Not once, but twice. Also, and stop me if you've heard this one before, but I didn't kill you or even maim you even a little bit. So, here's the thing - when I asked you to help me with the spell after all this niceness, you refused. Until I made you feel guilty.'

He reached her, and grabbed her by the arms. ‘So. The question remains. That first day. Why did you invite me in?’

‘Leave me alone!’

She pushed against his chest, with little effect, and tried to twist away from him. Exasperated, he grabbed both her wrists and held them with one hand behind her back. She struggled with him, but they both knew her efforts were futile. He waited until she stilled before asking again.

‘Why?’

She glared at him, and summoned all the willpower she had left.

‘I want you to leave me alone. Now. Get out of my house.’

‘Not till you answer me.’

Willow resumed her struggling with him, trying to get her hands free. She knew that she couldn’t cast a spell if she couldn’t use her hands, and he had them effectively pinned against her back.

Why didn’t I think of casting a spell earlier? Because you’re an idiot. You should really try and remember that you have witchy weapons you can use against the evil undead now. Try and remember that the next time your life is in danger. If there is a next time. If he doesn't kill you on a whim now, just because he can. Just because he's a vampire, and you let yourself trust him. Idiot.

‘Spike, please. Leave me alone. You hurt me and it’ll only end badly for you. It always does.’

‘What, from the Slayer, and maybe a little help from Angel? Sweetness, I can do anything I want to you, and I’ll be long gone before the sun rises. They’ll never find me. And you know that.’

He looked down at her, relishing the warmth, the anger and the fear that he could sense coming from her. But there wasn’t enough fear, not by a long shot. He should really do something about that, but that would mean hurting her.

With a start he realised that he didn’t really want to cause her pain.

A little mutual fooling around, maybe, just a shade the wrong side of her idea of safe?

Sure! Definitely. Bring it on.

But pain?

Oh, shit, he realised with a start. I care. Godamnit. I don’t want to care about her. That's so much worse than munching on the Slayer's friends. Don't bloody well start to care about one of them, you twat!

He tried to shake off the protective feelings he had for her, and squeezed her wrists together just a little harder, regarding with interest the resulting sharp intake of breath and the grimace of discomfort. The thrumming sound of her heart speeding up, blood rushing around her body.

'Th-they will find you, Spike. Light and dark? Good versus evil? It always ends badly for evil. Don’t you watch the A-Team? Thundercats? Transformers? Pokemon? Roswell? Take your pick, but basically your ass is grass. And you know it.'

Spike rolled his eyes, ignoring her cultural gibes. ‘Maybe, baby, but that's tomorrow, and tonight you're all mine. Just tell me why, Willow, then maybe I’ll go.’

Willow gritted her teeth and looked up at him, knowing she was all alone, fury burning in her eyes. 'Another deal with the devil? Why am I not convinced of your good intentions?'

Spike squeezed a little harder.

'Tell me why.

‘Because I’m an idiot.’

‘Tuh. Don't be daft. You’re no more an idiot than I am.’

‘I don’t know why I did, you obviously don’t give a damn about what happens to me.'

He looked at her curiously. ‘Whatever gave you that idea? Of course I care what happens to you. The rest of your little Scoobies can rot in Sunnyhell for all I care, but you’re... well, you’re Willow. You're my witch.’

She stared at him, still angry in spite of the fact that his yelling at her had somewhere along the way turned into softly spoken words, and the firm grasp he had had of her wrists had been released. His arms now encircled her, and she realised that she had made no move to pull away.

Then her resolve crumbled.

‘Because I didn’t want to see you hurt,’ she admitted in a whisper, dropping her head so she wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. ‘Because I couldn’t let myself care about the well being of a vampire.’

It was a long moment before Spike spoke again.

‘You cared about me?’

Willow didn’t answer him.

'You... care about me?'

Without looking up, she nodded miserably. A cool hand cupped her chin and slowly raised her head. Piercing blue eyes looked down at her. She expected them to be laughing at her, teasing, or perhaps full of triumph. But she saw none of that. There was only...

Spike's lips on her own. Soft, and surprisingly warm. This was different to before, when it had been an assault, a kiss that had been a lot of fun, but was nothing compared to this. She clung to the back of his shirt, her hands somehow having slipped inside his duster, as his arms slid across her back, holding her tight, and she melted against him. He ran his tongue along her lower lip, causing her mouth to open slightly, and he took her lip between his teeth. She opened her eyes to look up at him, not afraid, only questioning.

'Don't be afraid, Willow. I won't hurt you,' he whispered to her. 'I'll never hurt you.'

She smiled at him, and she kissed him, and he was lost.

~~~

Spike lay on his back, smoking a cigarette. He knew Willow would probably kill him for smoking in her room when she woke up, but for now, he didn't want to move to go outside.

He looked down again at the small, warm body sprawled half on top of his own. He was amazed that she had responded to him like she had and now lay sleeping like a baby beside a master vampire.

And she knew she was safe.

It was crazy.

He didn't know why he had come back to her house that night. He was bored. So he went out and fed. Then after he had fed, he was still bored. He wanted someone to talk to. Someone he liked, and there weren't too many of them on this continent. So he had gone to Willow's. He would scare her a little, tease her, annoy the hell out of her, try and not get zapped by one of her spells, and then head home again. A good plan all round.

But instead he had ended up sleeping with her. Because he wanted her. And she wanted him.

Because she cared.

Definitely crazy.

And he hadn't even bitten her. Well, not too much. Nothing that would leave any visible marks, anyway. But he knew exactly where he had tasted her. Behind her left knee, her collarbone, the curve of her hip, and he intended to visit all those delightful spots with his hands, tongue and teeth at least once more before she came to her senses and kicked him out of her house.

Again.

It could mean staying in bed for another day or two at least, he realised with a happy sigh.

It's a dirty job, and I'm just the vampire to do it.

The head of dishevelled copper hair moved slightly against his chest as Willow murmured in her sleep and scratched at her jaw. She snuggled closer to him and flung her arm over his stomach before settling down once more. He remembered with a surge of masculine pride how she had reacted when she had first laid her eyes on his stomach and chest a few hours ago. Her mouth had formed a little ‘O’ of pleasure as little fingers had slipped off his shirt and danced their way across the muscles under his skin, testing and teasing, followed closely by her lips and tongue which had left a trail of fire in their wake.

Spike smiled at the memory as he put out the cigarette, and drew the comforter snugly around them and flipping the last remaining cuddly toy onto the floor. He lay for a while longer, sinking into the soft pillows and listening to the sounds of her body, her heartbeat and her regular breathing, and he laughed quietly when every so often she would let out a soft little snore in her sleep.

Better than any hot water bottle you could care to mention.

And tracing soft patterns on her ribs, he drifted off to sleep beside her.

~~~