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Mental Case -- by Ruby
Rating: NC-17
Description: General silliness
Note: This story is proof positive that I've completely lost my mind (as if you didn't already know that). It's basically nonsense with as little plot as possible, and though I have several parts written, I have no idea whatsoever where this is going. Spoilers -- Parts of season 4.
Disclaimer: Joss owns all.
Spike awoke in the cold dark crypt to a blinding pain clawing inside his head. Clutching his temples, he staggered out into the night, struggling to keep himself upright as he stumbled on toward Giles' house, toward help.
Buffy nearly dropped the book in her hands, and Willow scrabbled up off the sofa at the hard pounding on the front door. Giles crossed the room quickly and flung the door open, and Spike took a single step over the threshold before pitching face-forward onto the floor. Anya untangled her arms from around Xander, and he jumped up out of the armchair and ran to Giles' side. Lifting the unconscious vampire by his arms, the two men hauled him over to the sofa and lowered him down onto it.
"What's wrong with him?" Willow asked, her eyes darting to the others around her.
"The chip?" Buffy guessed.
Giles arched an eyebrow and studied the vampire's face, "Could be. We should get help."
"I don't know. I kind of like him this way," Xander mused, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at Spike's still form. "Maybe we should just let Sleeping Ugly lie."
"We can't just leave him like this," Willow protested. "Giles, do you have any blood in the fridge?"
"Yes, I think so," he nodded and turned toward the kitchen.
The vampire stirred and moaned softly from the sofa, and the ex-watcher turned back anxiously as Willow dropped down onto her knees beside him. His blue eyes slowly opened and focused on the redhead, and Buffy tensed, ready to react, as his hands reached up to cup Willow's face.
He pulled her down and placed a hard kiss on her lips, shocking her into inaction.
"Hey!" Xander shouted, looking frantically from the vampire to Buffy and back again. "Let go of her lips, fang boy!"
Spike snarled as the young man bent to pull Willow away, and the blonde vampire lashed out, landing a hard backhand across Xander's jaw and sending him reeling backwards onto his rear end. Willow's gasp of surprise was quickly smothered as his mouth returned to hers. She began to struggle, and he pushed himself upright, pulling her down and cradling her close to him.
"It's all right, luv. You're safe now," he murmured close to her ear.
"Um...thanks?" she squeaked softly as he trailed cold kisses along her cheek.
"Should he have been able to do that?" Xander questioned, dragging himself up off the floor and rubbing his buttocks. "Without the usual amusing migraine, I mean?"
Buffy shook herself from her stunned stupor, "I'll phone Riley."
"Wait!" Willow pushed herself out of Spike's embrace and shot to her feet as the slayer went to the phone and lifted the receiver, her finger poised to dial. "You can't call Riley! He doesn't know who Spike is!"
"Will, who cares?" Buffy frowned at her friend. "There's something wrong with him. He smacked Xander, and he's developed the urge to play tonsil hockey with you! If that chip has stopped working--"
"We don't know that!" Willow argued, snatching the phone out of the slayer's hand and holding it to her ear to make sure Riley wasn't on the other end.
Spike's eyes flashed amber, and a low growl rumbled through his chest as he shoved himself off the sofa, flew across the room, and pried the receiver out of the redhead's hand. He threw it to the floor and placed his strong hands on her shoulders and peppered soft kisses on the ear to which she had pressed the receiver.
"Spike!" she giggled as his lips tickled across her skin, and she tried to push him away from her.
He was having none of it and only pulled her closer as one arm crept firmly around her waist, "I've got you, baby. I promise. I'll protect you."
A groan of air was forced from her lungs as he hugged her tightly, and she peered over his shoulder with wide, confused eyes at the others,
"From the phone?"
Giles retrieved the receiver from the floor and replaced it in its cradle, "Perhaps it would be better if you went to Riley in person. There is most definitely something wrong."
Willow had managed to push a little space between herself and the vampire, and she raised a hand to brush her fingers comfortingly against his cheek. The watch that was strapped to her left wrist glimmered in the light and caught Spike's eye. He grabbed her hand, and ripped the leather strap from the timepiece, tossing it to the floor and stomping on it with the heel of his boot. Buffy's mouth dropped open as Spike gently brought Willow's wrist to his lips and tenderly kissed the skin where the watch had been.
Xander's eyes widened, "Tell Riley to haul ass over here. Now."
Buffy returned a half an hour later, frowning unhappily, to find Willow planted firmly in the blonde vampire's lap. Although it was obvious from the defiant glare he flashed over at her that he had no intention of letting the little redhead go, the slayer couldn't help thinking that Willow could have at least had the decency to look a whole lot less comfortable.
"Don't tell me; he's playing with his army men," Xander grumbled at the lack of Riley's presence.
Buffy nodded, "I couldn't even tell him what's going on. Forrest and Graham were standing right at his elbow. And he isn't going to be able to get away until almost sunrise. Has Spike clobbered anybody else since I've been gone?"
Anya shook her head, "Nope. He's just been groping Willow."
Xander turned a scowl from her to the slayer, "Shouldn't somebody tell Dead Beat to go home now?"
"Good idea," Spike spoke up, standing and pulling Willow beside him. "Come on, pet."
"I'm not going to that crypt!" she protested, then softened her voice at the hurt look on his face. "I mean--well, it's cold there and--"
"Well, he's *not* coming back to the dorm!" Buffy stated. "Giles?"
"I'm afraid not," he refused. "I'm supposed to meet a friend for breakfast, and she's coming back here afterwards."
"I'll take him to my parents' house," Willow suggested. "They're both away on business, so it'll be safe there."
Buffy looked skeptically over at her, "Will--"
"Just until Riley can help him," she quickly added.
Giles looked at the arm firmly curled around her waist and nodded his agreement, "She seems to be safe enough. It's obvious he has no intention of harming her."
"That isn't what I'm worried about," the slayer said dryly.
"It'll be okay, Buffy," Willow assured her friend. "Come on, Spike."
"I'm checking on you--at regular intervals!" Buffy called after her as they stepped out the front door.
"Are you comfortable enough?" Willow asked as she draped a blanket over Spike who was stretched out on the sofa in her parents' living room.
"Not quite, luv," he answered, looking longingly up at her.
"Oh," she blushed faintly and backed away toward the stairway.
"Um...well...I'm really, really tired. So...I'll see you in the morning...or the evening...or...well...good night." She turned and bolted up the stairs and into her bedroom, closing the door behind her and leaning against it with a quiet sigh of relief. Her mind still reeling from the evening's strange events, she peeled off her clothes and fished an oversized T-shirt from the dresser. She covered a wide yawn and slipped under the blankets. It had been a long time since she'd spent a night at home, and her bed felt amazingly wonderful.
She snuggled more comfortably under the covers, and she had just nicely drifted off to sleep when her bedroom door opened and then closed quietly. Spike moved silently across the carpet, stripping off his black T-shirt and jeans along the way. Willow's eyes snapped open as the mattress moved underneath her and a very hard, very cold, very naked chest pressed itself close to her. "Spike!" she squealed as he dragged the blankets over the both of them and pulled her into his arms.
"Shhh. It's all right, luv," he whispered before placing a soft kiss on her lips. "I missed you down there."
"What has it been? Ten minutes?" she asked, trying futilely to wriggle away from him.
"Seven and a half," he answered, holding her tighter and enjoying the way her body was moving against his.
Willow abruptly stilled and breathed in sharply as she felt his cock pressing against her thigh, "Oh, Goddess."
"That you are," he agreed. "You're so beautiful."
"Spike, listen to me," she begged softly. "This isn't--we aren't--" Her eyes widened, and she gasped as his cold hand darted under her T-shirt and up along her warm, flat tummy to cup one soft breast. His mouth crashed down on hers, and his tongue slipped between her lips and ravished her mouth as he kneaded her breast. Willow moaned involuntarily at the sensations his talented hand and tongue were creating, but quickly came to her senses as his other hand crept up her thigh and deftly dragged her panties downward.
Her mind was spinning with a jumble of confused thoughts. This was wrong. This was Spike. This could not be happening. But, oh gods, he felt so good. And it had been so long. And that delicious little dance his fingers were doing over her quickly moistening slit was just so...so....
Need gave reason the boot, and she buried her fingers in his hair, her ears barely registering the sound of tearing fabric as he literally ripped the shirt off of her body and lowered himself down onto her. His hands and lips were everywhere, urging her body toward an unbearable ache. Her legs parted willingly as his cock brushed over her clit, sending a river of molten warmth flowing from her core up through her belly.
He moaned as he slid deeply within her tight heat, and Willow's hips rose to meet his in a desperate rhythm. Her blunt teeth nipped at his lower lip as his hands moved to cup her firm ass, pulling her into him, wrapping her around him as he thrust in and out of her. She screamed out his name, a single syllable of pure ecstasy, and he growled and dropped his mouth to her throat, grazing her skin with his fangs, but not breaking the flesh, as he emptied his seed into her wet, spasming channel.
Willow panted heavily as Spike moved off of her and laid down beside her, his head resting close to hers. He placed several soft kisses on her red, swollen lips before pulling her into the comforting firmness of his arms. They fell asleep at almost the same moment, still tangled around one another.
Willow awoke to find herself facing the wall, and her sleepy brain gradually registered the feeling of a strong arm wrapped around her and a cold body pressed close up against her back. She shifted around, her face flaming crimson, as she came nose to nose with the still sleeping vampire.
Carefully, she extracted herself from his arm and crawled off the end of the bed. Looking back around at him, she pushed her hair away from her face and made quick tracks for the bathroom. The air in the small room grew increasingly misty as the vapor from the hot shower spray rose up from the tub. She felt a warm tingle spread through her body as she mentally relived last night's passionate coupling. Shaking herself, she rinsed the shampoo out of her hair and turned off the water before reaching beyond the shower curtain to blindly flail around for her towel.
She dried off and rubbed the towel over her dripping red locks. She stared at her reflection in the mirror above the sink and tried to make sense of the past several hours, but there wasn't much sense to be found in any of it. Spike's strange actions must be connected to the chip implanted in his brain, she decided. But if it had malfunctioned, why had he chosen to screw her senseless instead of hurting her? He'd batted Xander soundly enough and hadn't seemed to suffer any ill effects. And why did he suddenly feel the driving urge to protect her? And why, in heaven's name, did that urge include objects such as telephones and wristwatches?
Grumbling softly, she dropped the comb onto the counter and shrugged on her bathrobe, tying the sash around her trim waist before stepping back into her bedroom. Spike was sitting up on the edge of the bed, completely nude, his eyes frantic with worry. He leapt up and ran to her as she entered the room, taking her by the arms and pulling her close to him.
"Where the bloody hell did you go, pet?" he murmured. "I woke up, and you were gone--"
"A shower," she mumbled against his bare chest. "I just took a--" Suddenly, he growled and drew away from her, his blue eyes raking over the thick robe around her body and settling upon the sash cinched around her waist. A soft, fearful cry parted her lips as his fingers clenched around the sash and tore it off of the garment. His hands grabbed at the lapels and shoved the robe from her shoulders, pushing it to the floor and quickly kicking it away.
Willow stood naked, trembling before him, as he took her back into his arms, and clutched her to him, "You're all right now, baby. It's gone. It can't hurt you."
"Wh-what?" she stammered. "Spike, it's only a bath--"
"I know," he hushed her, holding her close, kissing neck, her shoulder, soothing her body with his gentle hands. "You're so brave. But it's all over now. You're safe."
She jumped as his hand traveled down her back to her rear end, and she pushed herself away from him and looked up into his concerned eyes, "Breakfast. I need breakfast. And--oh!--clothes. Yeah. Got to have clothes, first."
She scurried away from him and rummaged around in her dresser for a pair of jeans and an old, faded sweatshirt. Spike watched mournfully as her pale skin disappeared behind the clothes, but stooped to retrieve his own from the floor and pull them on. He reached out and caught her by the hand as she tried to move past him toward the door.
"Better let me go first, luv. Just in case," he suggested.
"In case of what?" she muttered, as he pulled her along after him. "Killer rugs?"
He peered around the living room as they stepped off the bottom stair, "Looks like we're alone."
"Uh huh," she nodded, silently wishing that Buffy would hurry up and do some of that regular checking-in she had promised last night. She led him out to the kitchen, where his gaze followed her as she started a pot of coffee brewing and popped a slice of bread in the toaster.
"You're not--not--hungry, are you?" she asked nervously.
He helped himself to the fridge as he answered, "Giles put a bag of blood in my coat pocket before we left his place. I threw it in here before I came up to your room last night."
"Ah, good old Giles," the redhead breathed in relief. With a loud gasp, Spike dropped the bag on the table and snatched away the knife Willow had taken from a drawer.
"Hey!" she protested. "I need that!"
He shook his head solemnly, "Sweetheart, it's a knife. Knives are *deadly*."
She put her hands on her hips, "It's a butter knife, dammit! I want butter on my toast!"
"There will be no knife in those precious fingers," he vowed as he plucked the toast from the toaster and spread butter liberally over it before handing it to her.
Eyeing him warily, she nibbled quietly on the toast as he put the bag of blood in the microwave and heated it for a few seconds. She finished eating before he did and turned to the sink to wash her hands.
"Wait!" Spike shouted, startling her. "It isn't too hot, is it?"
Her head lolled forward in defeat as she murmured, "No, Spike. It's fine."
Elbowing her aside, he stuck his hand under the running water and tested it before nodding for her to continue. She couldn't help giggling softly at the ridiculousness of it all, and he grinned and placed a wet smack on her cheek before stepping slightly away. Willow tossed the dish towel onto the counter as the doorbell rang, and Spike grabbed her elbow as she headed toward the living room.
He arched a knowing eyebrow at her, "Check first."
"Yes, sir," she saluted and stepped over to the door. "Buffy? That you?"
"Yeah," came the reply. "And I've brought reinforcements."
"Thank the Goddess," the redhead smiled, turning her head to make sure Spike was well out of reach of the late morning sun before pulling the door open to let the slayer and Riley inside.
Spike snarled threateningly at the man and pulled Willow to his side, and she swallowed and looked at Buffy, "He--he knows about Spike?"
"I explained everything," she nodded.
"I don't like it," Riley added, glaring back at the vampire. "But I trust Giles and Buffy a lot more than I trust the Initiative. I'll do what I can to find out what's wrong."
"Thank you," Willow flashed him a relieved smile.
"He hasn't tried to hurt you, has he?" Buffy asked. "Because if he's laid a hand on you--"
"No!" the redhead assured her as visions of the previous evening caused her to flush softly. "He...he's been...great."
"You weren't so bad yourself, pet," Spike smiled at her and plopped down onto the sofa, drawing her down onto his lap.
Deciding she'd rather not have that cryptic remark explained, the slayer chose to ignore it, "Riley thinks Spike's--mental problems--must have something to do with the implant."
"Then how are we going to help him?" Willow asked. "You can't take him back to that torture chamber!"
"We won't have to," Riley told her. "There's a piece of portable diagnostic equipment that, if I can get my hands on it, should tell us what's wrong. The Initiative thinks I'm about to turn traitor. I don't even have access without someone to accompany me. Forrest is watching my every move, but I think I can get Graham to see reason, if I can talk to him alone."
"Well, how long will that be?" the redhead wanted to know.
"I can't say, Willow," he told her. "First chance I get. That's the best I can do."
"Spike, before you showed up at Giles' last night, exactly what had happened to you?" Buffy asked.
He shrugged and cuddled Willow closer to him, "I woke up with a bloody headache. Thought my head was going to explode off my shoulders."
"You hadn't been trying to sink your teeth into something of the human variety?" the slayer asked him suspiciously.
He scowled over at her, "No. I was *sleeping*."
"You weren't dreaming about sinking your teeth into something of the human variety?" Willow suggested.
He grinned at her and ran a hand through her hair, "No, pet. I woke up with a blinding pain in my head. It wouldn't stop. I didn't know where else to go, so--"
"And it hasn't returned since last night--the headache?" Riley inquired.
"Not since I woke up on Giles' sofa," the vampire answered.
"With your lips glued to Willow's," Buffy added angrily. "And you belted Xander! And that damned implant never activated."
"Goes to prove there's a bright side to everything," he smirked at her.
Willow closed the front door behind Buffy and Riley and turned to find Spike moving directly behind her. He backed her up against the door and crushed his mouth to hers. After several moments of tangled tongues and tangled thoughts, Willow placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him gently away from her.
"Need coffee," she mumbled, stepping quickly around him, and headed in the direction of the kitchen.
He chuckled and took off after her and leaned against the refrigerator as she poured a mug of black coffee. Glancing over at his penetrating gaze, she raised the mug to her lips and winced as the hot liquid burned her lips. With a quick growl, Spike moved into action, whisking the offending piece of ceramic out of her hand and throwing it violently across the room. It slammed into the back door, and coffee splattered everywhere as the mug fell into shards on the kitchen floor.
"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured affectionately, brushing his lips over her reddened ones and raising her warm hand to kiss the palm that had been wrapped around the hot mug.
"It's okay, Spike," Willow sighed heavily. "I'm okay. It was just a little hotter than I'd expected."
"I'm sorry, baby. I should have protected you better than that," he apologized.
"Oh, geez," she grumbled, wriggling her way around him and stooping to pick up the broken remnants of the mug.
"Stop!" he shouted, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from the mess. "They're sharp and dangerous. I'll take care of this."
Willow giggled as he collected up the splinters of ceramic, "My hero."
He tossed the pieces into the trash can beside the counter and placed his hands on her shoulders, "Now, you go sit down in the living room--and *don't* move. I'll bring you another cup of coffee, after I've made certain it's at a safe temperature."
"But--but--I don't--"
"Go on," he smiled softly and gave her ass a gentle pat, "I'll be right there."
She turned on her heel and marched out of the kitchen, muttering under her breath the entire way to the sofa, "Stupid implant. Stupid *vampire*. I'm going to go absolutely, irrevocably, stark-staring mad!"
Willow walked silently beside Spike as her eyes traveled down to the cold hand that was so firmly clasped around hers that she doubted she could have pried it loose with a crowbar. Buffy had telephoned just after sunset to explain that Riley hadn't had any luck in getting to speak privately with Graham and to tell her that they would be meeting at Giles' in an hour. From the second they had stepped out the front door of her house, Spike had taken her hand in a vice grip and hadn't let go.
He came to an abrupt stand-still, wrenching Willow up close to him at the sound of a soft snarl coming from up ahead. The form of a vampire drifted out of the darkness and stared scornfully at Spike before shifting his amber eyes to the redhead beside him. Willow's hand shot into her jacket pocket and withdrew the stake she always carried with her.
Spike shook his head and stepped slightly in front of her, "Stay right here, baby. I'll handle this."
The unfamiliar vampire sniggered derisively at the protective tone with which Spike spoke to the young woman. Without warning, he charged directly at the blonde vampire, knocking him backwards onto his ass, and made a quick grab for Willow's wrist. She yelped as his strong hand wrapped painfully around her arm. She raised the stake in her free hand just as Spark snarled and rolled over to curl his hand around one of the vampire's ankles, yanking his foot out from under him. The attacker's head collided with a loud crack against the sidewalk, and
Spike straddled him and gripped him by the throat, hauling him back up onto his feet and throwing him into a brick wall that ran alongside the sidewalk.
Willow scrambled out of the way as Spike swung out, his fist connecting solidly with the hapless vampire's jaw. Thick red blood, and two teeth, spurted out of his mouth, and he howled in pain as Spike continued to pummel him.
"Spike!" Willow shouted. "Just kill him already!"
Enraged beyond reason, he ignored her cries and continued to work the vampire into a bloody mess. He collapsed to the sidewalk in an unmoving heap, and Spike gave him one final, hard kick in the groin before grabbing the stake out of Willow's hand and thrusting it into the would-be assailant's heart. He dropped the stake into the pocket of his duster and turned to reclaim his redhead's warm hand.
"You okay, luv?" he asked, his concerned eyes raking over her body. She was trembling slightly in the aftermath of the violent onslaught she had just witnessed, and he moaned softly and pulled her close to him. He kissed her forehead, her temple, her cheek, her lips, lingering against them as his hand rubbed calming circles over her back.
"I'll never let anyone hurt you. I swear it," he promised softly before kissing her once more.
She nodded mutely, and he turned her to his side and wrapped a protective arm around her as they continued on toward Giles' house.
Buffy's smile quickly transformed into a concerned frown as a decidedly-shaken Willow preceded Spike into Giles' living room.
"Will, you okay?" the slayer asked. "What happened? Did he hurt you?"
"No," the redhead answered softly. "No, nothing like that. There was a...a...vampire...out there...and...I'm pretty sure I was supposed to be dinner...only, Spike...he...he..."
"Beat the bloody hell out of the bastard," the blonde vampire offered. Willow nodded, "Yeah...what he said. I'm okay, though. Really. Just--kind of--dazed. I guess."
"Oh," Buffy murmured, a bit dazed herself.
"You do look a little unsteady," Giles noted. "Sit down. Here." He gestured toward the sofa, and Spike led her over and drew her down onto his lap.
"I don't think *that* here was the here that Giles meant," Buffy scowled at him.
"It's okay. I don't mind," Willow murmured, then blushed scarlet as the slayer's eyebrows shot up. "Oh! Right...yeah...sofa here, not here here--"
Spike tightened his arms around the squirming redhead, "You had the answer right first time, pet. Relax."
Much to her friend's consternation, Willow immediately stilled and leaned back against the vampire's shoulder and asked, "Riley, were you able to find out anything?"
"Uh, no," the young man answered, confused by what he was seeing. "I mean, not exactly. It's a pretty sure thing that the implant has somehow malfunctioned. I just don't know how or why. It's never happened in any of the other hos--I mean, recipients. But then again, we've never had one out of captivity for even a short period of time, let alone weeks."
"That's not very helpful, is it?" Giles remarked in a tone that clearly meant no offense, and Riley took none.
"No, I'm afraid not," he agreed quietly. "What we need is that diagnostic equipment. I checked the assignment roster. Forrest is practically glued to Graham's elbow for the next twenty-four hours. It'll be at least that long before I can talk to him about this, and then--assuming I can persuade him--we'll have to figure out how to get into the lab to get the equipment without being discovered. Can you hang on for another day or two, Willow?"
The young woman in question was having something of a struggle to keep her mind on the conversation instead of the soft lips that were currently working their way along her throat.
"I--I think--oh!" she shivered as Spike's fingers brushed the hair away from her neck to continue his mouth-to-skin explorations. "Uh, yeah, I c-can do that."
"Oh, brother," Buffy muttered and rolled her eyes. "You sure it'll take that long, honey?"
"Afraid so," Riley shrugged, his eyes riveted to the unlikely couple across from them. "Unless we want to risk drawing the Initiative's attention."
"Well, that's that, then," Giles agreed.
"But aren't we running the risk of Fang Face trying out his new un-unbitey skills?" the slayer argued. "I mean, if he could smack Xander without going mental, what's to stop him from attacking any other human?"
"That one," Riley couldn't help laughing as he gestured over at Willow and Spike, whose lips were now firmly pasted together.
Buffy groaned, "I *had* to ask."
Spike had gone down to the kitchen to warm one of the bags of blood Giles had sent over to the house, leaving Willow alone in the bedroom only after she had insisted that she would be "very, very careful" during his absence. She had waited until she heard him clattering around downstairs before going to the bathroom to draw a bubble bath.
She stripped off her clothes and skimmed her fingertips over the warm, soapy bubbles before stepping into the water and lowering herself down. With a contented sigh, she relaxed back against the porcelain of the tub and closed her eyes.
"Willow?" the loud shout from the bedroom shook her out of her quiet thoughts. "Pet, where are you?"
"In here," her voice called back from behind the closed door. "I'm just taking a bath, Spike."
"What?!" he yelled, and she jumped in alarm as he pushed the door open and hurtled into the room. "Sweetheart! What the hell were you thinking?"
"Um...I was dirty?" she squeaked.
"You could drown in there, little one," he scolded her gently as he began to peel off his clothes.
"What are you DOING?" she hollered.
"Keeping you safe," he shrugged casually, as if the answer were obvious.
Her eyes widened, and she scrambled to cover herself with her hands as he stepped into the bathtub and plunked himself unceremoniously down so that he was facing her, sending water splashing over the edge of the tub.
"I--I--don't need--"
"And you promised you'd be careful," he admonished her as he reached for her arms and dragged her forward to him.
"But Spike, it's only a bath! It isn't dangerous!" she insisted, trying to ignored the way his hands were moving over her bare back.
"It's *water*, luv. You could drown," he repeated, then scooped up a handful of bubbles and turned worried eyes on her. "Do you think these are toxic?"
She giggled in spite of the exasperating situation, "Only if you eat them."
"Oh, well, that's all right then," he nodded. "If you're sure."
"Very sure," she answered, grinning up into his eyes.
His soapy fingers traced a soft line along her cheek before drawing her mouth to his for a long, gentle kiss. Instinctively, her arms moved around his neck, and he placed his hands on her thighs and draped them over his own and pulled her close into him. She moaned softly as his hard cock slipped inside her, and he gripped her hips and guided her movements as he began a slow rhythm.
Her wet hands skimmed the marbled flesh of his chest, her fingers toying with his pebbled nipples, pinching them, rolling them between her forefinger and thumb. Spike slid his hands up her back and lowered his mouth to her warm, wet breasts, and he nipped at the soft mounds and laved their delicate pink buds into straining peaks.
She bucked against him, wanting him deeper inside her, and he ran one hand down her side to her tummy and lower, to capture the nub of her clitoris between his fingers. She whimpered in pleasure as he tickled the sensitive bundle of nerves, and her fingernails raked over his back as he thrust harder into her. Her muscles tightened and her head dropped back as she arched into him and came, screaming his name. He nipped gently at her breast, careful not to leave a wound, and growled as he erupted inside her tight channel.
Willow clung to him wearily, and he stroked her back and murmured softly as her body slowly relaxed in his arms. He stood, lifting her carefully, and the water cascaded off of their bodies as he bent to release the plug in the drain before stepping out of the tub and carrying her to the bedroom.
Spike stirred in the empty bed as Willow opened the door across the room, "Where are you going, luv?"
"Breakfast. I'll warm you some blood. How's that sound?" He propped himself up on one elbow, prepared to object, and she hastily added, "I'll be very careful. I promise."
"We know what happened the last time you made that promise," he reminded her, clearly unconvinced.
"Oh...yeah," she murmured softly, mentally returning to that warm, wonderful bubble bath, then blushed furiously and shook the thoughts free. "No! No, I mean, I'll be really careful this time. I won't cut myself, or burn myself or...or...anything. Okay?"
Reluctantly he nodded, and she flashed him a quick, relieved smile and darted out of the bedroom before he could change his mind.
Unfortunately for the redhead, her feet and the stairs conspired against her, and she tripped on a rumple in the runner and tumbled down three steps on her backside. She groaned and clutched at the railing as she heard Spike jump from the bed, and in less than a minute, he was at her side, clad in only his jeans, gripping her arm, and pulling her up onto her feet.
"See? I told you," he shook his head reproachfully. "I knew this was a bad idea."
"I just tripped," she explained. "There's nothing to be--"
"Well," he ignored her with a slight shrug and scooped her up in his arms. "There's only one thing for it. No more stairs for you, little one. I'll just carry you up and down them from now on."
"Ohhh," she grumbled forlornly. "Do we have to?"
"Of course we do," he answered as if it were the most logical thing in the world. "Besides, you fit right here just perfectly."
She dropped her head to his shoulder, resigned to her fate, and silently cursed Riley for taking so damned long over retrieving that stupid piece of equipment. Spike carried her down to the kitchen and lowered her into a chair before opening the fridge. He plopped a bag of blood onto the counter and left it to fish a tall glass from the cupboard and fill it with milk.
He set it down in front of Willow, "There, that won't burn you."
"But I don't like milk," she complained, sounding remarkably like a petulant child.
"It's good for you, sweetheart. Makes your bones strong."
"Oh, please," she growled.
He arched an eyebrow and stabbed a finger at the glass, "Drink it. Now."
"Yes, sir," she scowled and wrinkled her nose as she lifted the glass to her lips.
He waited until she had taken a long swallow, then nodded in approval and reached for the bag of blood and emptied it into a mug. Willow sighed and took another drink from the glass, "I thought maybe I'd meet Buffy for lunch today."
He whirled around, sloshing blood over the rim of the mug, and glared at her menacingly.
Her green eyes widened, and she swallowed nervously, "Or...or...Buffy could come over here instead. Actually a pizza delivery is sounding pretty good."
The vampire relaxed and gave her a warm smile, "Best to be careful. Can't have you walking around Sunnyhell without me to protect you."
"Oh, no. We wouldn't want that," she murmured and shook her head in misery.
Willow was sitting on the sofa where Spike had deposited her earlier that morning. He had carried her up to the bedroom after breakfast, where she had sputtered indignantly when he insisted on watching her as she dressed. Just to make sure she didn't get hurt. He had carried her back down to the living room and hovered over her as she fetched the newspaper from the front porch, then insisted tha she sit close to him on the sofa where he could protect her. That had gone all right until she cut the tip of her index finger on the edge of the front page of the newspaper.
"Willow!" Spike had gasped, clutching the finger as blood oozed from the tiny slit in her skin.
"It's just a paper cut, see? Not bad at all," she insisted as he studied the slender finger for a moment before raising it to his lips and licking the blood away.
He had made her promise to sit still while he ran to the bathroom and returned with peroxide and gauze. That taken care of, he had grabbed the newspaper from her lap and turned the pages for her while she read. Since then, she had stared blindly at the television and silently wished for someone to rescue her.
The doorbell rang, and she jumped to her feet, only to feel Spike's cold hand curl gently around her arm.
"Slowly," he cautioned her. "Don't want you to fall."
She rolled her eyes and nodded obediently and walked with emphasized slowness to the front door.
"Buffy!" she squealed in sheer delight as the slayer entered, balancing a pizza box on one arm.
"How's it going?" she asked, peeking around the redhead at the vampire on the sofa.
"Don't ask," Willow mumbled.
"That bad, huh?"
Willow nodded, "I'm not allowed to walk up and down the stairs, anymore."
"Oh, brother," Buffy muttered with a small shake of her head before her eyes registered the thick bandaged swathed around her friend's forefinger. "What happened?"
"Paper cut."
Buffy's eyes widened, "All that? For a paper cut?!"
"Of course *you* wouldn't bloody care if it got infected," Spike growled as he rose to stand behind his little redhead. "Hell of a friend you are."
Willow was eyeing the pizza box ravenously, "Smells good."
"Huh? Oh, yeah," Buffy nodded and followed the pair into the kitchen.
She placed the box on the table while Willow grabbed two sodas, plates and napkins before sitting down across from the slayer. Spike snatched away the slice of pizza she lifted from the box, and she looked up at him, her brow furrowed in displeasure. He merely stared back at her and plopped the pizza onto her plate, got a fork from the drawer and began cutting the pizza into small pieces.
"What are you doing?" Buffy asked around a mouthful of food.
"She'll choke," he scowled at her before skewering a bite-sized piece of pizza and raising the fork to Willow's lips. "Open."
"You are NOT going to feed me!" she refused, curling her hand around the one holding the utensil.
"You hungry?" he asked.
"Oh, hell," she growled and parted her lips.
Buffy didn't even bother trying to stifle her laughter as the blonde vampire continued to feed Willow, much to the redhead's chagrin.
"I told your professors you've come down with something nasty," the slayer told Willow, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she stared at the blonde vampire. "And I picked up your assignments."
"Thanks," Willow smiled gratefully. "I hope Riley--"
"I know," Buffy answered sympathetically as she polished off the last slice of pizza and carried the empty box to the trash bin. "He thinks he can get to Graham tonight. Maybe we'll get lucky, and they'll have the diagnostic equipment by tomorrow."
"I'll be a raving lunatic by that time," the redhead sighed.
"But you'll be a well-protected raving lunatic," the slayer grinned.
"I'd better get going. I've got class in twenty minutes."
"Come back later? Please?" Willow pleaded. "With Valium?
"For which one of you?" Buffy laughed and let herself out the kitchen door.
Spike had his feet propped up on the coffee table, his eyes glued to a gory movie he'd happened to flip to on the TV. Willow was trying hard to ignore the bloody images on the screen as the vampire's arm curled around her shoulders and squished her more firmly against his side. The telephone rang from across the room, and she leapt to her feet, glad for the distraction. Spike grabbed her hand before she could step away, and she spun around to face him.
"It's only the phone. It can't hurt me, remember?"
"Yeah, I'll admit I got carried away with that one," he nodded and released her, watching intently as she lifted the receiver to her ear. "It isn't too loud, is it, pet? Won't hurt your ear?"
She grinned and shook her head and spoke softly for a moment before hanging up, "Riley and Buffy are over at Giles' with the equipment. We need to get over there so he can return it before anybody discovers that it's missing."
"All right, ducks," he consented, then bolted up off the sofa as she headed toward the stairs.
She squealed as he swung her up into his arms and reminded her gruffly, "NO stairs, little one."
"Sorry. Forgot," she muttered with a soft sigh as he started up to her bedroom.
He shoved open the bedroom door and set her back down on her feet, and she picked up her tennis shoes and sat down in the chair at her desk to put them on. Spike was instantly on his knees in front of her, grabbing at the laces.
"Oh, Goddess. What now?" she moaned.
"You could trip over these," he admonished her gently as he pulled the untied laces out of each shoe.
"Spike! I won't trip...you don't have to...ooohhh!" she grumbled as he tossed the laces into the trash bin and stuck the loose shoes on her feet.
He looked up to see her scowling down at him, and he grinned and brushed the hair from her eyes. He cupped her face and planted a firm kiss on her lips before pulling her onto her feet and scooping her into his arms to carry her back downstairs.
Riley rose from the sofa, where he had been seated next to the blonde vampire, and wandered over to Buffy as he frowned down at the read out on the hand-held diagnostic device.
"Well, what's wrong with him, besides the obvious?" the slayer questioned, happily ignoring the scowl on Spike's face.
"It's the..." Riley's mumble faded to silence as he poked at a button. "...the...chip."
"No kidding," Willow grumbled, attempting to rise to her feet, only to be tugged right back down beside Spike.
"Sorry," the young man smiled over at her, "I've just never seen anything like this before."
"I know what you mean," Buffy nodded sympathetically and glanced over at Spike. "Kind of nightmarish."
"Buffy," Giles admonished her around an amused grin and directed a question at Riley. "Is that contraption actually telling you anything useful?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "The implants were never designed for...active use. They were basically just a means to render the hostiles harmless so they could be studied with relative safety. But Spike's been free for quite awhile, now, and from what Buffy tells me, he hasn't exactly been idle."
"Are you saying something happened to the chip during a fight with a demon?" Buffy asked.
"Could be, but I think it's more likely that the results occurred over time," he answered. "The malfunction has to do with the impulses the chip is sending to Spike's brain. Originally, it was programmed to prohibit endangering any human, even at the risk of endangering his own existence. But the natural instinct for self-preservation is very basic, and very strong, in any type of creature. Spike has had to learn to adapt--in several creative ways, I imagine--since he escaped from the lab. I guess you could say that, while the chip has been sending out signals to his brain, the primal instinct for survival in Spike's mind has been feeding signals of its own right back."
The slayer tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and frowned up at him, "Could we have the Cliff notes version, please? You're giving me a headache."
Riley put down the device and looked over at the couple on the sofa, "The signal has changed from protecting humans that come in contact with Spike to protecting one human in particular--Willow--from being harmed by anything the implant detects as a threat."
"Including himself?" Giles asked.
The man nodded, "He can't hurt her, but he could hurt anyone else. Which is why he was able to hit Xander. Spike thought he was going to hurt Willow."
"So, he can kill again?" Buffy asked anxiously.
"Generally speaking, no. Unless the person is threatening Willow. In which case, yes, I think he probably can."
"I don't get it," the redhead confessed. "How did I end up winning the lifetime use of my own personal, lethally-fanged bodyguard?"
Riley looked uneasily at Buffy. "What?" she asked. "Come on. We have to know all of it."
He nodded, "Because his primary concern since he escaped from the lab has been to protect Willow. It may have been completely subconscious, and he may never even have admitted it to himself, but Spike's instinct to survive, in spite of the difficulties caused by the chip, have included making sure Willow is safe, too."
"It has?" Willow asked softly, smiling up at Spike.
"It has?" Buffy echoed, looking slightly ill. "So, you can fix it now, right?"
"Possibly, but not without taking him to the lab," he answered. "I'm not sure how much good it would do, though. The implant has basically reprogrammed itself based on the stimulus it's been receiving from Spike's brain."
"Well, just un-reprogram it!" the slayer demanded.
Riley sighed and took her hand, "It doesn't work like that, Buffy. Even if I could--and getting him into the lab without being discovered would be pretty much impossible--the process would just begin all over again, and Willow would end up right back where she is now."
Giles looked over at the vampire who had snuggled Willow ever closer to him. Spike seemed to be completely unconcerned about Riley's explanation; he was currently entranced by the rich red tresses of hair that were gliding like spun silk through his fingertips. The ex-watcher shrugged and turned toward the kitchen, much to the slayer's obvious displeasure.
"Are you sure there isn't *anything* we can do about this?" she asked her boyfriend.
He shook his head, "Aside from taking out the chip...and we all know what the consequences of that would be."
"It's okay, Buffy. It isn't that bad," Willow purred and rested her head against Spike's shoulder as he continued to play with her hair. The vampire smiled and cupped her chin, turning her face to his and placing a long, soft kiss on her lips. Buffy clutched Riley's hand and began dragging him toward the front door.
"We'd better get that equipment back to Graham before someone discovers it's missing," she suggested, trying to quell the nauseating little flip flops her stomach was doing while Spike's lips were attached to her best friend's.
"We should get you home, too, pet," he said, pulling Willow up onto her feet.
Buffy groaned softly and rolled her eyes as Spike's arm slid firmly around his redhead's waist and pulled her into his side.
By the time Willow and Spike returned to her house, the full impact of what Riley had told them had finally sunk into the redhead's rattled brain. Spike was capable of hurting. People. If Riley's explanation were correct, and she could find no reason to doubt it, the vampire wasn't a danger to her own safety, but he was to those that she cared about. Like Xander, for instance. The idea frightened her beyond words. If any of her friends were hurt--or worse, killed--because of some misguided need Spike might feel to protect her, she didn't know how she would ever live with it.
Spike had tugged off his clothes, leaving them scattered about the floor, while Willow had ferreted out another T-shirt and put it on, then began pacing restlessly at the foot of her bed. He crawled under the blankets and patted the mattress invitingly.
"I can't," she shook her head. "I'm not tired."
"Of course you are, luv," he argued. "You're just wound up. C'mere."
He leaned forward and grabbed her wrist, pulling her over the end of the bed and catching her about the waist to haul her warm body up beside his. Ignoring her unhappy squirming, he pulled the covers over the two of them and wrapped his arms snugly around her.
She sighed and rested her head against his chest, and he smiled and kissed her forehead and gently stroked her hair, "Close your eyes, pet. I'll tell you a story."
"You're a vampire. You don't tell bedtime stories," she grumbled.
"Says who?" he asked. "Close your eyes."
With one more heavy sigh, she did as he asked, and his hand resumed its gentle, calming motions through her hair.
"Once upon a time," she mumbled after a long moment of silence.
"Uh...yeah," he nodded. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young redhead who lived all alone in a cold empty castle. A tall, blonde, good-looking bloke lived in the village not far from the castle, and one night he happened upon the beautiful redhead as she was walking about in her gardens. From the moment he laid eyes on this amazing creature strolling amongst the flowers, all the tall, blonde, good-looking bloke could think about was shagging her senseless."
Willow opened one eye and looked up at him, giggling softly. He pressed a cold finger to her lips and shook his head, and Willow's eye obediently snapped shut.
"Problem was, there were two nasty ogres, Slutty and Xapper, who lived just the other side of the castle walls," Spike continued. "The tall, blonde, good-looking bloke knew that if he didn't avoid them, they'd corner him and annoy him to death. Fortunately, neither one of the ogres was very bright, and it didn't take long for the handsome man to capture the idiots and--"
"Spike," Willow's soft voice spoke threateningly as she opened both eyes and tilted her head up to him.
"Shhh," he whispered, dropping a kiss on her lips and waiting until she hesitantly closed her eyes again. "It didn't take long for him to capture the idiots and throw them into a nearby bog, where they whined and babbled and just generally drove each other into an even greater stupor then they were normally in."
"That isn't very nice, Spike," she scolded, but he could feel her lips curling into a grin against his chest.
"So, anyway, this tall, blonde good-looking bloke, raced back to the castle, climbed over the wall, and landed with stealthy grace right in front of the beautiful princess," he continued.
"He would," she mumbled dryly.
"Hey, you insulting me?" he asked.
"Me? Never," she laughed softly. "Go on."
Spike cuddled her closer in his arms, "The beautiful princess took one look at the tall, blonde, good-looking bloke, and was consumed with desire. Before he knew what was happening, she flung herself into his arms, ripped off his clothes, and threw him to the ground."
"She did not!" Willow gasped.
"Did, too," he insisted. "Now hush. The handsome man was overcome with joy, and he carried the princess inside, where she begged him to fuck her in each of the two hundred rooms in the cold, dark castle."
"Yikes," Willow murmured.
Spike chuckled softly, "Of course, the tall, blonde, good-looking bloke would never consider ignoring the princess' commands--"
"Of course," she snorted.
"Within seconds, her beautiful gown lay in a puddle on the floor, and he drew his princess close to him and--"
"He scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom, where they made passionate love," Willow interrupted yet again.
He arched an eyebrow, "Who's telling this story?"
"Sorry," she whispered contritely.
He placed a kiss on her head and went on, "The tall, blonde, good-looking bloke swept up his princess and carried her into the banquet room. Clearing the table with a sweep of his arm, he lowered her down and looked into her lovely green eyes. 'Appetizer,' he whispered, his voice full of promise, and entered her completely in one quick, powerful thrust."
"Ouch," Willow commented.
"Uh uh," he shook his head. "Within moments, the beautiful princess was screaming his name as he ravished her with lusty abandon."
"The best kind of abandon," she nodded slightly.
Spike laughed softly and raised her hand to his lips, "Their satisfied cries filled the castle as he proceeded to lead her from room to room, christening each in their sticky juices. And by the first rays of the sun, he was holding a very tired and thoroughly-fucked beautiful princess in his arms."
"First rays of the sun? And he didn't turn to tall, blonde, good-looking ashes?"
"Fortunately, they'd finished their shag-fest in the castle dungeon. No windows," he answered.
"Ah, smart bloke," she grinned.
"And the beautiful princess and the tall, blonde, good-looking bloke lived nakedly ever after in coital bliss," he concluded.
Willow's eyelids fluttered open once more as she looked up at him, her cheeks faintly flushed.
"That was supposed to lull you to sleep," he sighed in disappointment.
She raised herself up, her lips a mere breath above his, and whispered softly, "It didn't."
Her mouth stopped the grin that had begun to curl his lips, and she kissed him, hard, her tongue darting hungrily inside to tangle with his. Spike moaned and rolled her onto the mattress, and he swept the T-shirt off of her body and gently spread her legs to plunge his hard cock between her wet folds.
Willow started as the alarm clock on the bedside table buzzed loudly, and she swatted at the snooze button and curled closer against the cold body sleeping next to her. Ten minutes passed before the annoying buzz roused her again with a pathetic little whine. Spike snarled softly, reached out with a tight fist, and clobbered the offensive clock. It whistled a quiet, sickening death-cry before falling permanently silent, and Willow grinned to herself as Spike's arm wrapped itself firmly around her again.
"Spike?" she spoke close to his ear.
"Mmmm?" he responded, his eyes still closed.
"I have to get up, now. I have classes, and--"
"No."
"You can't 'no' me, Spike! I can't miss anymore--"
He opened one eye and peered at the little redhead, "They have stairs on that campus?"
"Oh, hell," she muttered.
"And strange men?" he added.
"*Strange* men?" she repeated, looked pointedly at him.
He chuckled and nuzzled against her warm neck, "You can't wander around that place without me, pet. And I can't go out in daylight, so...."
She tried, unsuccessfully, to raise herself up on one elbow, "But..."
"Nope."
"But..."
"Give it up, sweetheart. It ain't gonna happen. Go back to sleep."
"I'm not tired anymore!" she told him.
The vampire growled playfully and nipped at her throat with blunt teeth, "Want me to do something about that?"
She giggled and tangled her fingers through his hair, drawing back just a little to look at him, "Spike, listen to me. I really have to get back to my classes. I'll be careful. I promise. I'll even have Buffy walk me to all of them, and I'll come right home after the last one this afternoon."
He growled unhappily, "Willow--"
"You don't want me to miserable, do you?" she quickly added. "I will be if I miss so much that I don't pass my courses. I can't stay locked away with you everyday. You know that isn't possible. I'm human! There are things I *have* to do--out there--in the sunlight!"
Grudgingly, he conceded the point and released his stubborn hold on the redhead, "You'll call me. Every hour? Because if you don't, I won't agree to this again."
"I'll call," she quickly agreed as she scooted off of the bed. "Thanks,
Spike. I'm going to go grab a quick shower."
He smiled, his eyes following the gentle sway of her hips as she went to the door, and he pushed himself up, "Wait for me, luv. You might slip and fall."
Willow shook her head hopelessly as his quick footsteps sounded behind her.
"Wow, Will! What happened to you?" Buffy asked as she came through the dorm room door. "You look like you fell in a vat of red paint."
The redhead grimaced as she peered at herself in the mirror, "My afternoon class was canceled, so I thought I'd catch some sun."
"Literally, buy the looks of it," her friend grinned.
"I fell asleep," Willow sighed. "*Why* did I have to go and fall asleep? I look like a lobster."
"Look on the bright side. At least Spike won't be able to--"
"Spike!" she squeaked. "Oh, Goddess! He's going to freak when he sees this!"
"That could be interesting," Buffy nodded. "Considering the way he bandaged your little paper cut, you'll probably end up as the world's only living mummy when he gets through with you this time."
"Oh, damn," she muttered, wincing as the clothing rubbed against her hot skin as she turned to face her. "Buffy, you have to come with me--"
"No way," the slayer shook her head emphatically.
"Please! Buffy, I--"
"I love you, Wills. You're my best friend in the whole world," she giggled. "But there's no way in hell I'm going to be around when he goes all mental over this one. Anyway, I'm meeting Riley for dinner in thirty minutes. Just remind Spike that you need a couple of air holes to breathe through when he starts wrapping you up."
"Willow? That you, pet?" Spike's voice shouted from the kitchen as the redhead shut the front door behind her.
She swallowed against the butterflies flitting through her stomach and called back, "Yeah."
"Where the hell have you been? You haven't phoned me since--" the blonde vampire's angry tirade ceased as he came out of the kitchen, laid eyes on her reddened face, and crossed quickly over to her.
"Bloody hell, luv! What happened? Are you sick?"
"No, I'm fine. It's just--" she stopped with a pained gasp as he placed his hand on her forehead.
"You're practically on fire, sweetheart," he announced with alarm, shuffling her quickly over to the sofa. "Just lie down here while I--"
"No, Spike, it's just--"
"Don't argue with me," he growled, and she cried out as he dragged her feet up onto the cushions and pushed her firmly back. "Damn. You're in pain, as well. Now, be still. I'll be right back."
Ignoring her protests he took off up the stairs and bounded back down them a few moments later with a thermometer in one hand and a bottle of aspirin in the other.
"Please, listen to mmmph!" she grunted as he stabbed the thermometer between her lips and gently pushed her mouth shut.
With a warning glare, he quickly went to the kitchen and returned with a tall glass of water. He knelt beside her and opened the aspirin, spilling out two of the tablets into his hand. Willow sighed in frustration as he pressed a cool palm against her flushed forehead, scowling at the heat that radiated off of her flesh. He plucked the thermometer from her mouth and looked closely at it.
"Strange. No fever. But you're burning up," he murmured.
"I'm okay, really, Spike," she insisted around the aspirin he popped into her open mouth. "I've been trying to tell you. It's just a sunburn. I fell asleep, and--"
"A sunburn? And it hurts that badly, luv? Let's see," he remarked, batting away her hands as she tried to intercept the fingers that had moved toward the buttons on her shirt.
She groaned as he unbuttoned the garment and shoved it off her shoulders. The white of her bra contrasted starkly against her red shoulders and neckline, and she flinched as he gently placed his cool hands on her overly-sensitive skin. Arching a displeased eyebrow at her, he scooped her up in his arms, bringing another sharp cry of pain from her lips, and carried her toward the stairs and up to the bathroom. He turned on the water and adjusted it so it was cool but not too cold. After carefully unclothing her, he lifted her into the filling tub, and she closed her eyes as the soothing water surrounded her flushed body. He knelt beside the tub and reached for a washcloth and plunged it into the water, wringing it out before dabbing it along her heated brow and cheeks.
"You're really not very good at being careful, are you, pet?" he asked softly, recalling her earlier promise to him.
"I know. I'm sorry," she murmured as prickly tears sprung to her eyes.
"Shhh," he whispered, placing a soft kiss on her lips. "It's all right. I'm here, now. Don't cry, luv. I'll have you fixed up in no time. Looks like I'm not the only one who should be avoiding the sun. Though in my case, I'd be even crispier than you are."
She attempted a weak smile, "You're not going to mummify me, are you?" He turned puzzled eyes on her.
"That's what Buffy said," she giggled.
"Ah, well, consider the source, then," he grinned. "Have you got something I can put on this?"
She nodded, "There's anesthetic lotion in the cabinet."
After another quick kiss, he rose to his feet and rummaged around in the cabinet over the sink and extracted a tube of lotion. He helped her to her feet and wrapped a thick towel around her, then handed her the tube and lifted her carefully in his arms to carry her to the bedroom. He perched her on the edge of the bed, and her blush was lost in her already reddened skin as he peeled away the towel and uncapped the lotion. The chill of his fingers and the cool, silky ointment felt amazingly good against her burned arms, legs, and shoulders.
He smiled at her as she leaned into his touch, "Feel better?"
"A little," she nodded.
He draped a gentle arm around her waist and drew her up to flick back the covers, then lowered her down onto the cool sheets, and she sighed wearily.
"Want something to drink?" he offered.
"Maybe later," she answered. "Stay with me for awhile?"
"Longer than that," he promised softly, pulling off his clothes and joining her under the sheet. "Think you can sleep?"
Yeah," she nodded as he moved against her, and she reveled in the coolness of his body against her sunburned skin. "Thanks, Spike."
He placed a kiss on her hot forehead and stroked her hair until he felt her relax against him as she drifted off to sleep.
Willow awoke with a grimace and felt a strong arm reach around her as she tried to sit up in the bed. Spike smiled down at her as he sat beside her and placed a glass of ice water against her parched lips. She took a long swallow and returned the smile as he lowered the glass to kiss her softly. He fished an ice cube out of the glass before setting it aside, and she gasped as he trailed the ice along her hot throat and shoulders and down to the valley of her breasts. The pain from his caresses mingled with the soothing chill of the ice cube, and her nipples hardened into delicate pebbles as he outlined each breast in turn.
Spike lowered himself over her, propping himself on one elbow, and his tongue darted out to follow the wet trail that shimmered against her soft, heated flesh. The cube melted quickly against the warmth of her skin, and his wet fingers cupped her breast as his lips took one of her nipples, suckling gently at it as he rolled it over his deliciously cool tongue. She arched into him, gripping his shoulders as he kissed his way up her throat to her parted lips. Her scent filled his senses as their tongues flicked against one another's and her juices seeped from her core as he deepened the kiss.
Mindful of her painful burns, he entered her slowly, her breasts barely grazing his hard chest as he carefully kept the weight of his body off of her. Her pelvis ground against him, and he chuckled against her mouth in response to her impatience. He began a slow rhythm inside her, and her hands skimmed along his back to cup his ass. She whimpered at the friction of the sheets against her sore upper back, and he kissed her shoulders, the hollow of her throat, each of her breasts, as his movements quickened and grew deeper. Willow's fingers found his hair, gripping it tightly as she drew his lips back to hers. The pain from the sunburn was eclipsed by the mind-numbing tightness building inside her as his hand slid between their joined bodies to capture the nub of her clit and massage it with practiced fingers.
She panted softly beneath him, his name whispering out on each breath of air, and her body stiffened as her climax washed over her, causing her walls to constrict around him, drawing him into his own orgasm only a scant second later. He kissed her deeply before moving off of her and pulling her gently against him once more. One hand draped around her hip to rest against her firm ass as the other caressed her warm shoulder with cool, soft touches. She purred against him, placing light kisses along his throat, and he coaxed her back to sleep before slipping from the bed to go to the kitchen to fix her something to eat.
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