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Forgotten -- by Ruby
Rating: NC-17
Description: Willow has a problem, even though she doesn't think so.
Note: This story takes part during the 4th season. Also, the idea for this story was inspired by Morgan R's fic "Omitted." It's very different from her story, but hers got me thinking about this. Dedication -- For Charity, absolutely, definitely, without a doubt, for Charity.
Disclaimer: Joss owns all.
"Giles, she's been like this for two hours. I think we should get her to the hospital," Buffy said as she leaned over the pale form of Willow, who was stretched out across the slayer's sofa. "You have no idea what she was doing in the cemetery?" he asked her.
"No, unless she was looking for me."
"Well, I can't see any external injuries, no broken bones, not even a bruise," he told her.
"But she's been lying there like a death shroud ever since I brought her back here," Buffy argued. "I think--"
"Wait a minute," Giles stopped her at a slight movement from the redhead.
Willow mumbled incoherently, and her eyes fluttered open and stared up at the man who was staring down at her. Giles put a gentle hand over hers, and her eyes widened as she yanked it free, sat bolt upright, and scrambled to the corner of the sofa.
"Willow?" Buffy said softly.
Confused and frightened green eyes darted over to the blonde woman. Buffy moved slowly toward her, and Willow jumped over the arm of the sofa and backed away from her.
"Willow, what's wrong?" Giles asked.
"So, the little witch finally woke up," Spike's voice spoke as he entered from the kitchen.
"Spike?" Willow whispered.
He looked at her curiously, "Yeah, pet."
"Spike!" she repeated with a relieved sigh and darted around Buffy. The vampire's eyes widened in astonishment as the small woman threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him furiously to her.
"Uh, Willow?" he said, looking over in utter bewilderment at Buffy and Giles. "What are you doing?"
She released him as though his cold flesh had burned her arms and back away, pain clouding the eyes that looked up at him.
"Hey, take it easy, pet," he said softly.
A tear trickled down her cheek as she shook her head, "You don't--want--"
Spike looked back at Giles and the slayer. They both looked as confused as he felt. He reached out and took Willow's arm, gently pulling her back to him.
"It's all right, Willow. You just--surprised me," he told her.
She took a step toward him, and he put his arms around her. She leaned against him, and he could feel a slight tremor shake her body.
"Who are they?" she asked him.
Buffy's mouth dropped open as she looked from the redhead to Giles. "You know who they are," Spike answered.
"I--I do?"
"Yeah. That's the slayer and--"
He stopped as her hand clutched his bicep in a tense grip. "Slayer," she repeated, her voice harsh and cold.
She turned away from him and glared at Buffy. Her fingers curled into a tight fist, and she stepped away from Spike and toward the slayer. Willow raised her hand to lash out at Buffy, but Spike's arm shot around her waist and pulled her back against him.
"Willow," Buffy's voice trembled. "What's wrong? You're my friend."
"I hate you," the redhead spat, straining against Spike's strong arm.
"Buffy," Giles spoke. "Maybe it would be best to give us some time to talk to her alone."
She looked at him uncertainly for a moment before nodding, "I'll finish patrolling."
Willow relaxed a little after the slayer left the house, and Spike guided her to a chair and lowered her down onto it.
"Do you know who I am?" Giles asked her.
"No," she answered.
"But you know Spike," he said.
She squeezed the hand that was holding hers and looked up at Spike, who had sat down on the arm of her chair.
"He's mine," she said firmly.
The vampire grinned at the uneasy expression on the man's face. "Who are you?" Giles asked.
"Willow."
"Last name?" he prompted.
They watched as she paused, searching her mind for the answer. "I don't--don't know," she admitted.
"You were found lying in the cemetery," Giles told her, carefully avoiding any reference to Buffy. "Do you remember what you were doing there?"
"No," she answered.
"Well, what can you remember?" he asked her.
Once again, she paused as she considered the question. "Just--Spike," she finally said.
Giles shot a cold look at the vampire, "What did you do to her?"
Willow tensed at the tone of the man's voice. "It's all right, luv," Spike reassured her, stroking her hair softly.
"I didn't do anything to her. I haven't been near her tonight, up until she landed on that sofa."
Giles' gaze returned to Willow, "Do you remember Xander or Oz?"
"What are they?" she asked.
Spike snorted, "Good question. Actually, they're people. Or unreasonable facsimiles, anyway."
"I don't remember them," she said dragging her hand across her brow. "I have a headache."
"Maybe rest would be the best thing for you right now," Giles suggested and looked up at Spike. "You should go."
The vampire stared at him for a moment before releasing the redhead's hand to go to the door. "You're not taking me with you?" Willow's voice rose in panic. "Please don't leave me here."
Spike looked in amusement at Giles' dismayed face and held out his hand to Willow. She went quickly to him and clasped it in hers.
"She isn't going with you," Giles stated.
"She can decide for herself," Spike said.
"She can barely think!" the man snapped. "She doesn't know what she's doing."
"She certainly knows what she wants, though," the vampire shot back.
"Don't you, pet?"
"You. I want you. Take me with you?" she asked, looking up at him.
"Clear enough?" the vampire asked Giles.
The man remain rooted where he stood, afraid that trying to force Willow to stay would alienate her even further.
Spike raised her hand to his lips and said, "Come on. We're going home."
"You let her leave with him?" Buffy asked incredulously.
"What else was I to do? I could hardly force her to stay here," Giles defended himself. "I don't think he'll hurt her."
"I wish I felt as sure. Spike may be working with us, but he's a reluctant ally, at best. And he's been leering at Willow ever since he came back to Sunnydale. He's got to be loving this," she scowled.
"Let's just concentrate on finding out what's happened to her. I'm sure her memory loss is not the result of an injury. The only thing she seems to remember is Spike, and that memory is completely distorted."
"Which just proves that he's behind this," she added.
"I don't think so. You saw how surprised he was when Willow threw herself at him," Giles pointed out.
"Yeah, well, maybe so, but he didn't seem to be fighting her off," the slayer argued.
"I asked him outright, Buffy, and he denied it. I believe he was being truthful," he replied.
"Fine, for now," she yielded. "Why does she think she hates me? None of this makes any sense. Do you have any ideas?"
"I'm going home to do some research. Maybe we're dealing with a demon," he suggested.
"Besides a platinum blonde one, you mean."
"Yes, quite," he nodded. "I'd better get started on the research. I'll let you know if I come up with anything."
In the months since he had unwillingly agreed to help the slayer, Spike had found himself increasingly captivated by the redhead's fire and innocence. At first, his budding interest had not been reciprocated. He could hardly blame her after the way he had terrorized her. He had gently wooed her friendship. He had consistently chosen to stand by her side, sometimes backing her up, other times taking the lead, when they fought demonic adversaries. He had taken her side during verbal skirmishes between Giles or Buffy. When Oz had given up much of his time spent with her for a local club circuit with his band, Spike had gleefully taken his place, walking Willow home after long nights of research.
The most significant breakthrough had come after a particularly brutal fight with a particularly ugly demon. She had been so shaken, she had gladly taken the hand he had offered her, allowed him to hold her for a moment before he took her home, and invited him in to spend three hours in easy conversation.
After that incident, and much to the slayer's dismay, they had spent many nights together, talking on the sofa in his living room, until nearly sunrise, when she would quietly leave him to his rest. He had told her stories from a human past he rarely talked about with anyone, and her insatiable curiosity would soak them up ravenously. It hadn't taken long for the vampire to go from wanting her acceptance to wanting her. He had thought, albeit briefly, about forcing her, torturing her, until she submitted to his desires. But that wasn't the way he wanted her. He wasn't after another insane lover, and he certainly didn't fancy a hand-delivered stake, courtesy of the slayer.
But he did want Willow, and if he took her display back at the slayer's house as a true indication, she wanted him, too. Spike was drawn out of his reverie as the bedroom door opened, and Willow stepped through. Having just taken a shower, she stood before him, draped in nothing but a towel. Spike's eyes traveled over her body with undisguised interest.
"I don't have anything to wear to bed," she told him.
"You don't need anything," he grinned and pulled her into his arms. He captured her mouth, and she parted her lips to thrust her tongue into his mouth. Spike's hands unfolded the towel and drew her naked body hard against his as the towel dropped to the floor. He chuckled as her frustrated hands tugged at his shirt, and he stepped back to help her undress him.
Spike pulled her over to the bed, lying her down and covering her body with his. Willow's arms moved around his waist, and her hands traveled over his taut muscles, stopping to rest on the small of his back. He clamped his mouth to hers, licking, sucking, nibbling at her lips. He smelled the awakening of her arousal, and he thrust himself deep within her waiting core. She was wetter, tighter, than he had ever imagined, and a low moan issued from his throat as her muscles constricted around him.
Willow's hips thrust up into him, and he answered, beginning a slow rhythm that soon quickened and grew more urgent. He stared down into the deep green of her eyes as his hand cupped one breast and rolled her pebbled nipple between his fingers.
His lips brushed along her soft body, traveling from her throat to the perfect round hills of her breasts. His tongue created cool paths along her warm skin, and a loud sigh burst forth from Willow's mouth as her walls tightened around his shaft. Flying toward the precipice of his own release, Spike moved his fingers to gently stroke the nub beneath the downy curls of her sex.
Spike's deep growl was met by Willow's cry as she came with him. The vampire dropped his head to her shoulder, kissing his way up to her throat as her body relaxed and her channel stopped its erratic convulsing around him. Their lips met, and he kissed her deeply, her hand curling around the hair along the nape of his neck. She returned the kiss with a ferocity he had known, instinctively, was hidden inside her.
Finally, the need to breathe took her mouth from his, and he placed several more quick, soft kisses against her lips before rolling off of her. He pulled her onto his chest, and her hand rubbed lazily over his cool flesh. She shifted her head to look up at the smile on his face.
"I knew you were mine," she whispered.
"You'll get no argument from me, luv," he told her.
"Am I wrong--about her?" she asked.
"The slayer?" he responded and tightened his arm around her. "We can talk about that later, sweetheart. Just sleep, now."
"Mmmm," she murmured. "I like the way you hold me against you."
"I like the way you fit against me," he replied, kissing the top of her head.
Spike dug out a wrinkled, but clean, t-shirt and offered it to Willow. She pulled it on and followed him out to the living room. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap, and she rested comfortably against him as his hand stroked a bare thigh under the hem of the t-shirt.
"Spike, what were you doing at the slayer's house?" she asked him.
"Waiting for you to wake up," he answered.
"But how did I end up there, of all places?"
"She found you, unconscious, in the cemetery and took you there," he explained.
"And you came to get me?"
"Sort of," he smiled.
"I'll bet she's to blame. She probably clonked me or something."
"I don't think so, pet," he told her.
"You don't? Why not?"
"I just don't. Besides, you aren't hurt. Trust me; if you had any bruises, I would have found them."
Willow giggled and kissed him, "I guess so. I wish I could remember. I remember you, though. That's the important thing."
"That it is, ducks," he agreed.
"I'm hungry," she announced suddenly. "Can I order a pizza?"
"Of course you can," he smiled.
"And then we can go after _her_," she decided.
"Let's get some food into you, and then we'll talk about her," he suggested.
"That can't be right," Willow said, polishing off the remains of the pizza. "You're joking, aren't you?"
"No, I'm not," Spike assured her.
"I can't be friends with the slayer!" she objected.
"Why would I tell you that if it weren't true?" he asked.
"Well, are you her friend, then?"
"Not exactly," he laughed. "But I help her now and then."
"But Spike, that can't be! Why would you do that? She forced you, didn't she? What did she threaten to do to you?" Willow's voice grew angry.
"It's more like a mutual agreement. I help her, and she doesn't kill me. And I got you in the deal," he said.
"Well, that part is good," she agreed. "But the rest of it--"
She got up off the sofa, and he grabbed her arm. "Where are you going?" he asked.
"I'm going to kill her," she answered casually.
Spike jumped up and took her other arm, "Now, hold on, pet. She's a slayer. You can't just--"
"I don't care what she is. She bleeds just like any other human. Anyway, she thinks we're supposed to be friends. I can make that work for me."
"Baby, you _are_ friends," he insisted. "I don't know why, but for some reason, you aren't remembering any of this. The sun will be down in a couple of hours, and we'll go talk to them."
"Them," she repeated. "You mean her and that Giles guy."
"Yes," he nodded. "Believe me; I like them about as much as I like Angel, but I know they'll do everything they can to help you. That's what matters right now."
"You know an angel?" she asked, thoroughly baffled.
Spike shook his head and chuckled, "No. I know Angel, not an angel. They're two entirely different creations."
"I'm really, really confused," she admitted with a sigh.
"I know, baby. I need you to trust me so I can help you. Will you do that?" he requested. "The slayer and 'that Giles guy' are our best chance at finding out what's happened to you. I want you well, Willow. Just trust me."
She put her arms around his neck and smiled up at him, "Did I ever tell you before this happened that I love you?"
"No," he answered.
"I should have," she said and reached up to kiss him.
Willow's eyes fixed warily on Giles as she sidled closer to Spike. The vampire put an arm around her and rested his hand on her hip.
"Willow," Giles began. "I want you to think carefully. Tell me everything you can remember prior to waking up yesterday evening."
"I told you before. I don't remember anything," she answered.
"Nothing at all?" he asked. "No friends, nothing in Sunnydale looks familiar to you? Where do you live?"
"With Spike," she shrugged.
"I can't understand why he's the only person you remember," Giles confessed with a frustrated sigh. "And your memory of him is altered."
Anger lit Willow's eyes as she snapped, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I've known you for years. You don't belong with Spike."
She moved slightly away from Spike and scowled, "How would you like me to smack that out of you?"
Spike barely contained his laughter as his hand tightened around her waist, pinning her back against him. Their attention was diverted as the front door closed, and Buffy entered, flanked by Oz and Xander. Willow gave the slayer no more than a glance before looking at the two men beside her. No flicker of recognition crossed her face.
"That's Xander," Giles told her. "And Oz."
Oz stepped toward her, and Spike felt Willow's body go rigid.
"Willow, it's all right," Oz spoke softly.
"I don't know you," she said without emotion.
He took another step forward and reached out to her. His hand froze in mid-air and then dropped to his side as the mingled scents of the witch and the vampire pervaded his nostrils. Spike watched him closely, aware that his sexual union with Willow had just been discovered by the werewolf.
"Oz, you okay?" Buffy asked.
He nodded mutely and looked knowingly at the vampire before studying the redhead tucked inside his arm.
"Why do I feel like a museum exhibit?" Willow muttered uncomfortably.
"Because you're a work of art," Spike answered, his mouth close to her ear.
"Did you find anything in your research?" Buffy asked, turning to Giles.
"Not yet," he answered. "But the lack of physical injury suggests we're dealing with something supernatural."
"But why would it erase Willow's memory of everything except Spike?" she asked. "And why would it make her think I'm her enemy?"
"Some sort of revenge, perhaps," Giles suggested. "I've researched the demons you've destroyed most recently, but I haven't found anything. I'll have to go back further."
"There is another possibility," Xander spoke up. "If it is a demon, it certainly seems to be favoring Spike. I mean, he's got Buffy's best friend pasted to his side, and Willow likes Buffy about as much as he does--which is not at all. Maybe this demon is working for him."
Four pairs of eyes stared at the vampire. Buffy walked over to stand directly in front of him.
"If you had anything to do with this, I'll drive a very blunt stake right through your heart, an inch at a time, until you're screaming in pain."
In a single fluid motion, Willow moved in front of Spike and slapped Buffy across the face with enough force to leave an angry red imprint on her cheek and bring tears to her eyes.
"I've had enough of your mouth," Willow snarled. "I may not be a slayer, but don't think I won't rip that tongue right out of your head if you keep pissing me off."
"Willow," Spike's voice was low and soft as he took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. "Listen to me, luv. I don't give a bloody damn what any of them think. It doesn't matter."
"But--"
He placed a finger over her lips, "Something is definitely wrong, baby. This isn't you. We have to find out what's going on."
Buffy looked back at Giles, surprise clearly written on her face.
"I won't let them take you away from me," Willow insisted.
"Then, they won't," he promised her. "I won't leave you, no matter what happens, if you want me to stay. Let them do what they have to so we can figure this out."
She raised her hand to his face and brushed her fingers along his cool skin.
"Okay," she agreed softly. "But you'll always belong to me. I don't care what they find out."
He smiled down at her and nuzzled against the palm of her hand. Giles cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Buffy, perhaps you should check out the cemetery, since that's where this appears to have started."
"Right. I'm on it," she said.
"I'll go with you," Oz offered.
She nodded, and he followed her out of the room.
"Are you okay?" she asked as she opened the door.
"I know Willow and I have had problems. I'm not around as much as I should be, and we've drifted a little, but I hoped we could work it out. Doesn't look like it, now," Oz answered.
"Maybe once we've gotten her back to her old self, she'll realize--"
"I don't think so," he told her. "Come on. We'd better get going."
Giles was as disheartened to learn Buffy had found nothing helpful at the cemetery as she was to hear his research had been just as unsuccessful.
"So, if it wasn't a demon, how did she end up in the cemetery?" Buffy asked.
"I wish I knew," Giles said, looking over at Willow, who shrugged wordlessly back at him.
"A spell, maybe, that went wrong?" Xander suggested. "We could check out Will's apartment."
"I do spells?" Willow asked.
"You're a witch," Giles told her.
Her green eyes opened wide, "You mean black clothes and pointy hats and bubbling cauldrons?"
"Something like that," he nodded with the faintest of grins. "Only without the black clothes, pointy hats, and bubbling cauldrons."
"It's worth a try," Buffy said.
"So, I didn't live with you?" Willow asked Spike.
"No, pet, you just spent a lot of time there," he answered.
"Oh. That explains why I had nothing to wear to bed," she replied, completely oblivious to the embarrassed glances that passed between her forgotten friends.
"Wait a minute," Buffy spoke as they approached Willow's apartment.
Xander's eyes followed hers, "Willow, would you have gone off and left the door wide open?"
"How the hell would I know?" she asked. "I don't even know where we are."
Buffy choked back a laugh at Willow's unWillowlike response and stepped in front of the others to lead the way inside.
"Looks like the neighbors helped themselves," Oz said, looking at the stand on which a television had once sat.
As the others checked the few rooms in the apartment, Willow wandered to a narrow bookcase on which several photographs were perched. She reached for the one directly in front of her. Buffy returned from the bedroom and stopped beside Willow's elbow.
"Xander took that a couple of months ago, right before the semester started," the slayer said softly.
The redhead stared at the photograph. She and Buffy were sitting on a bumper which was laying in a driveway she could not recognize. Their arms were crooked over on another's shoulders. They were thoroughly soaked and grinning idiotically at the camera. Just behind them was the dented trunk of a rather sad looking blue car.
"Xander had just bought that old wreck and had driven it to my house to show it off," Buffy told her.
"Of course, the bumper was actually _on_ the car when I got there," Xander grinned, moving to Willow's other side.
"What happened?" Willow asked, still studying the picture closely.
Xander shook his head and answered dryly, "You two offered to wash it."
"We barely touched that bumper!" the slayer protested. "If we had known it was only being held on by rust and dirt--"
"It fell off while we were washing the car?" Willow asked.
"Which is why we're soaked," Buffy laughed "Xander got his revenge, with the hose."
Willow looked up at the blonde woman, "We aren't enemies?"
She shook her head and smiled softly, "Best friends, Will."
"I wish I could remember."
Buffy put her hand on Willow's arm, "You will. We'll find out what's going on and fix it."
Willow replaced the picture and stepped away, "But you're the slayer. You hate Spike."
"Spike and I have agreed--"
"I know, a mutual agreement. He told me," she said, looking over at the vampire who was standing near the door.
"Willow, I don't plan on hurting him. I just want to help you," Buffy asserted. "Look, you stood by me all the while I was with Angel. You mean enough to me to do the same for you."
"You know this Angel person, too?" she asked.
"I'll tell you all about it later, if you like, ducks," Spike said. "It isn't important right now."
"Willow!"
All heads turned toward the attractive young woman who stood in the open doorway with a wide smile on her face.
"I was beginning to worry about you after you wandered off last night."
"You saw her leave?" Buffy asked.
"I called out to her," she nodded. "But she just kept right on going."
"Was Willow alone?"
"She met up with some guy just down the street," the woman answered.
"Some guy? You don't know who he was?" Oz asked.
"It was too dark, and he was too far away," she said, eyeing him with obvious interest before looking at Willow. "Why are they asking me? You were with the guy."
"It's a long story," Buffy told her. "Which way were they headed?"
"Away from campus. You know, it might have been that guy she met in the lab. What's his name?"
Willow looked at her blankly.
"Brian," Buffy said. "Willow told me about him."
"Yeah, that's him," she nodded. "You must be Buffy. I'm Esther. Willow's my lab lifeguard."
"Lifeguard?" Oz asked.
"Yeah, she pulls me out when I get in over my head, which happens with frightening regularity," she smiled at him.
"She spent time with this guy?" Spike asked with obvious anger.
Esther eyed him uneasily, "Only in lab because Willow wouldn't agree to anything else. He was pretty persistent, though."
"Maybe we should check him out," Buffy suggested.
It took less than an hour to ferret out Brian's last name and track him to the fraternity house in which he lived. The young man who opened the door never heard Buffy's question as his eyes flitted from the slayer to the redhead behind her as though trying to decide which candy looked more tempting.
"Brian Hunter?" Buffy repeated with an exasperated roll of her eyes. "Is he here?"
"Hmmm? Oh, yeah. Why don't you two come in, and I'll see if I can find him?" the man suggested.
"Why don't we stay out here, and you go see if you can find him?" she replied.
"Sometimes you have to do a favor to get one," he told her.
Buffy's hand shot out and wrapped around his wrist, squeezing painfully.
"Okay, here's my favor to you," she said cheerfully. "I won't break your wrist. How's that?"
"Good. That's good," he grimaced.
"Your turn. Get Brian," she demanded.
He breathed a sigh of relief as she released his wrist, and he hurried away from the door. A few seconds later, another man took his place. He looked at Buffy questioningly until he saw Willow standing behind her.
Buffy noticed the quick flash of anxiety that raced across the man's face.
"Hey, Willow," he smiled weakly.
Willow felt Spike's hand slip into hers as she looked back at Brian's unfamiliar face.
"Can we talk to you for a minute?" she asked.
"I'm studying," he answered, nervously shifting his weight from one leg to the other.
"This won't take long," Buffy spoke.
"Well, okay," he agreed, stepping out onto the porch that ran along the front of the house.
"When's the last time you saw Willow?" she asked him.
"Uh--Tuesday, in lab," he answered.
"Not since then?"
"N-no, I don't think so," he said with a shake of his head. "Willow, what is this about?"
She stared at his face, trying unsuccessfully to pluck the forgotten memory of him from her mind.
"Are you okay?" Brian frowned and took a step closer to her.
His eyes shot open at the low growl that came from the tall, blonde man at Willow's side.
"You were at her apartment, weren't you?" Buffy asked. "Yesterday evening?"
"No! I--"
"Esther saw you, walking away with Willow," she lied.
"That's impossible," he told her. "I was too far away for her to--"
He stopped himself, too late, and moaned softly. "You're right. You were too far away," the slayer grinned slyly.
"Okay, so what if I was with Willow? What business is that of yours?" he snapped.
"Where did you go?"
"Ask her," he nodded toward Willow.
"I'm asking you," she stated.
Brian suddenly turned toward the door, and Oz moved quickly between it and the man, blocking his escape back into the house. Brian whirled around to glare angrily at the slayer.
"Where did you go?" she repeated.
"We drove to the lake, where I gave her a personal tour of the back seat of my car," he sneered.
Spike stepped around Willow and clamped his hand around Brian's throat, lifting him up until his feet dangled several inches off the ground.
"What do you think, sweetheart?" he asked Willow. "Should I give him a chance to try that again, or just crush his windpipe here and now?"
"What happens if you crush his windpipe?" she asked with interest.
Brian's wildly frightened eyes darted from the vampire to the redhead as he struggled uselessly.
"He dies slowly and painfully," Spike answered.
"Oh! Let's go with that one," she smiled.
Xander's eyeballs nearly landed at his feet as he stared in shock at his friend.
"You realize we won't get too many answers out of him once he's headed toward rigor mortis," Oz told Willow.
"Spike, let him go," Buffy said casually. He looked over at her.
"You want answers or not? Let him go."
Brian fell to his knees with a loud thud as Spike's hand unclasped itself from his neck.
"Maybe we could do the windpipe idea later," Willow said disappointedly.
Spike reached back for her and pulled her next to him to kiss the top of her head.
"Now, we're going to try this again," Buffy said, pulling Brian up off the floor of the porch. "Where did you go?"
"To the cemetery," he croaked, rubbing the red marks that encircled his throat.
"Why?" she asked.
The man looked hesitantly at Willow, "I don't understand it."
"Understand what?" Oz asked.
"Who is he?" Brian asked, barely glancing at Spike. "And why is Willow with him?"
"Good question. That's what we want to know," Buffy nodded.
"It wasn't supposed to work this way. I don't understand it," he repeated.
"He isn't making any sense," Willow grumbled. "Let's go back to the windpipe thingy."
"No!" he shouted hoarsely, backing away from Spike and into Oz.
"I'm two seconds away from agreeing with her," Buffy warned him. "Why the hell did you take Willow to the cemetery?"
"There's an old crypt there that I like to use," he began.
"Very romantic," Xander scoffed. "Nothing like setting the mood."
Brian shook his head and continued, "I took Willow there to work a spell. I'm a warlock."
Brian had reluctantly agreed to go with the others to meet with Giles. Even now, sitting in the armchair and nervously glancing around at their angry stares, the only thing that prevented him from bolting was the particularly evil glare of the blonde man sitting next to Willow.
Brian could have sworn he'd seen a faint amber glow pierce those steely blue eyes a couple of times over the past half hour.
"You really wanted to hurt her, didn't you?" Giles spoke sharply as he mentally translated the paper Xander and Oz had retrieved from Brian's room.
"What kind of spell is it?" Buffy asked.
"It isn't a spell," Giles answered. "It's a curse. I don't recognize the name of this demon, but I'm surprised he had the experience to summon a demon at all."
The male witch looked at him smugly, "I'm more experienced than you think. This isn't the first time I've summoned him."
"How did you ever persuade Willow to go with you to the cemetery?" Buffy asked him.
"She was compelled by the demon to accompany him. I doubt she was even aware of what she was doing," Giles answered.
Brian nodded, "When we got to the crypt, I summoned the demon. He took one look at Willow and decided he wanted her."
Spike rose from the sofa, causing the young man to jump.
"You let that bastard touch her?" he growled.
"No!" he answered hastily. "I told him the whole point of the curse was to give her to me, and I wasn't about to share her. I've wanted her for weeks, and when I found out she practices the black arts, I knew we'd be perfect together. I decided I'd had enough of her refusals. If she wouldn't agree to see me, I'd change her mind for her."
"And what, exactly, was this curse supposed to accomplish?" Giles asked, shooting a warning glance at the angry vampire.
"She was supposed to hate him," he gestured toward Oz. "She was supposed to forget everyone except me. She was supposed to be bound to me."
"You're an experienced fool," Giles told him angrily. "You dragged Willow in front of this demon, evoked the curse, and then denied him what he wanted. I'm surprised he didn't just rip your head off your shoulders instead of exacting a twisted revenge."
"Twisted--what are you talking about?" Brian asked in confusion. "What did he do?"
"Is this the original curse?" he inquired.
"Not exactly. I altered it to suit my purpose."
"You did a hell of a job," Giles said sarcastically. "It's just ambiguous enough for the demon to, in turn, alter it to suit his purposes."
"Giles, would you just explain what the hell is going on?" Buffy sighed in exasperation.
"Right," he nodded, looking back down at the paper. "This curse only requires that Willow hate the person who cares about her. It doesn't even specify that the person be male."
"He knew I meant Oz!" Brian argued.
"I'm sure he did, but since this isn't specific, he choose someone else--Buffy," Giles told him.
"Oh," the slayer said sadly.
Giles looked at her for a moment before returning his attention to the paper in his hand.
"This also states that Willow forget everything else--not everyone--everything. Well, at least he gave you that much. She doesn't remember anything, including you," he said, looking pointedly at Brian.
"But she remembers Spike," Oz pointed out.
"I'm coming to that," he nodded. "According to this, her heart was to be bound to the one who desires her more than anyone else does. Quite an ego, for someone so young."
Brian stood up and spat angrily, "No one wants her more than I do!"
"Think again," Spike suggested coldly.
Xander looked from the vampire to Giles, "You mean Spike...more than Oz?...more than _anyone_?"
Giles nodded, "Evidently so."
Willow beamed and moved to the vampire's side. He grinned down at her and dropped a kiss on her lips.
"So, basically, the demon made sure _he'd_ never have Willow," Buffy stated, jabbing a thumb at Brian.
"He did, indeed," Giles confirmed, looking over at the young man. "I strongly advise you not to summon this demon again. I think it's fairly safe to assume he won't be eager to cooperate with you in the future."
"Can we reverse this, then?" Oz asked.
"I'm afraid not," Giles answered. "Loosely translated, the last part of the curse states that no being, mortal or immortal, may ever annul it."
Brian sank back down into the chair and brought his hands to his face. "The demon made sure Willow would never be yours," Giles told him. "He refused you what you refused him."
"Giles," Buffy said softly. "Are you saying that Willow is always going to hate me?"
"No," he answered quickly. "The last statement is directly connected to Spike and Willow, not to you or to her memory."
"So we can undo those parts?" Buffy asked.
"I fear attempting to reverse any of this will be incredibly difficult, considering the circumstances under which it was evoked. I'll research it, but I honestly think our chances of reversing the memory loss are nonexistent. Your friendship can be rebuilt, though."
"Will, you're awfully quiet. Are you okay?" Xander asked.
"Yeah, I'm good," she smiled. "I think I'm the only one here who's happy, though."
"Not the only one, ducks," Spike told her "I may even let him live."
"That's your cue to leave," Buffy told Brian.
He stood and looked over at the redhead, "Willow, I--"
"Leave. Now," the slayer demanded.
"What do we do now?" Xander asked after Brian had gone.
Giles sighed, "There's little we can do."
"So, we're supposed to watch Willow walk out of here with him?"
"Hell no," Spike answered.
Willow squealed as Spike tossed her over his shoulder and headed toward the door.
"You may not be seeing her for a day," he told them.
"Or two. Or three!" Willow shouted as Spike carried her out.
"See? I said you were mine," Willow grinned triumphantly. Spike shed the remainder of his clothes and climbed onto the bed, straddling Willow's naked body.
"I think you've got that backwards, luv," he told her. "Technically, you're mine."
"Oh," she said, her eyes twinkling. "But I wouldn't be yours if you hadn't wanted me so much to begin with. So, technically, you were mine first."
"Good point," he conceded, lowering himself over her.
Willow's lips parted as their mouths met. Her fingers clutched at his hair as she kissed him greedily. Spike's cold hand skimmed over her body, barely making contact with her skin as it followed the contour of her breast, the flat surface of her stomach, the red curls below. One finger brushed delicately over her sex until Willow's breath came in short moans. She thrust herself against his finger as her juices, warm and sticky, seeped from her channel, moistening her soft folds and inner thighs.
Spike raised her knees, spreading them wide, and positioned the tip of his shaft at her entrance. He seized her lips in a bruising kiss and swallowed her impatient groan as his hard cock brushed along the length of her slit.
"Spike!" she shouted, arching into him, desperate to have him inside her.
He chuckled and recaptured her mouth, keeping his shaft just out of reach despite her efforts to draw him into her.
"Tell me what you want, baby," he muttered.
"You know damn well what I want," she hissed.
"Tell me," he insisted, his shaft still rubbing along her, maddeningly close, not close enough.
With an angry growl, she grasped his arms and rolled him off of her. Willow moved on top of him, straddling him and impaling herself on his erection, taking his full length inside her. Spike's hands moved to her hips as she began a quick rhythm. He studied her beautiful face, flushed with desire. Her eyes closed and her lips parted as she splayed her hands across his hard chest and drove herself onto him.
"Come for me, Willow," the vampire whispered, placing his hand between their bodies to capture her clit in his fingers.
She groaned loudly as her muscles clamped around him, and she ground hard against him as she rode the waves of her orgasm. Spike flipped her sweat-slickened body under him once again and thrust into her, fast and deep. His fangs pierced the flesh above the nipple of her right breast, and his mouth suckled her hungrily, driving the redhead into her second climax.
Willow cradled his head in her hands, holding him to her as he shot his cold, thick seed into her. Tenderly, he licked the last of the blood that trickled from the tiny wounds on her breast before moving off of her and pulling her tired body close against him.
He brushed her hair away from her damp forehead and whispered his devotion in soft kisses along her cheek. His left hand drifted down her thigh and gently captured her slender leg between his as he curled her body around him.
"You know what I think?" she asked sleepily.
"What do you think, luv?"
"I think that demon did me a huge favor," she answered.
"I don't."
She looked up at him anxiously, "You don't?"
"It didn't need a demon to bind us together, sweetheart. You did that all by yourself. You don't remember our long nights together, but I adored you before any of this happened."
"I wish I could remember," she said. "Were we together--like this--before?"
"No, but we would have been."
"Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?" she grinned.
"I remember the first night we were together. We'd polished off a demon, and you were a little rattled. You invited me back to your place, and we talked until nearly dawn. When I left you, part of me stayed behind with you, and you've had that part ever since." He caressed her cheek with his hand and looked into her eyes, "It's very happy with you. I don't want it back."
"I love you," the emotion behind the words hushed her voice to a whisper.
Spike cupped her face in his hands and placed a lingering kiss on her lips. He settled her back down against him and coaxed her with soft caresses to sleep.
"Why do we have to go over there?" Willow asked moodily.
"Because she said she needs to talk to us about something," Spike told her.
"So, why couldn't she just tell you about it over the phone?"
"Sweetheart, the slayer and I spend as little time as possible in each other's presence. If she says she needs to see us, it must be pretty important. You were friends before all this, you know. Now, either get yourself dressed, or I'm going to do it for you."
"Okay, you do it for me," she answered, grinning wickedly.
He chuckled and dragged her naked body out of the bed. Grabbing up her shirt from the chair on which he had tossed it that morning, he pulled it over her shoulders. Willow placed her small hands over his and cupped them around her breasts.
"Willow," he growled threateningly.
"What?" she asked and reached up to kiss him.
"I told her we'd be there in half an hour."
"So, we'll be late," she shrugged.
She placed her arms around his neck, and the shirt tumbled about her elbows. She stepped into him as she drew his mouth down to hers and ravished it with abandon.
Spike moaned and pulled the shirt the rest of the way off her as her fingers unzipped the jeans he had just pulled on. He stepped out of them, and she pulled him toward the bed, dragging his body down over hers.
His shaft hardened in response to the scent of Willow's arousal, and her hand encircled his erection and guided it to her wet opening. He drove into her, and her hips thrust upward, sheathing him fully inside her. His mouth covered hers as his fingers assaulted the hard nub between her legs, bringing her quickly to the edge of her orgasm. His hard, hungry rhythm pushed her small body back into the mattress, and she thrust back with equal ferocity. His lips were as soft and gentle as his member was hard and demanding, and Willow moaned his name as the sparks of her climax burned through her body
Spike came with a growl, driving himself completely within her, drawing out her orgasm as she rode it to a screaming release. His mouth returned to hers, kissing her slowly and lovingly.
"So much for foreplay," she grinned after she had at last caught her breath.
"I'll give you foreplay until you're screaming in frustration," he promised. "Later. And only if you get your wonderful little body dressed, right now."
"You said a half an hour," Buffy complained as Willow and Spike walked through the door, 45 minutes late.
"Oh, stop whining. Just be grateful I settled for a quickie," Willow told her.
Buffy stared at her wordlessly for a moment, ignoring Spike's amused grin. "Well?" the redhead prompted.
"Oh," the slayer cleared her thoughts with a slight shake of her head.
"Your friend seems to be stirring up more trouble."
"What friend?" Spike asked.
"Brian," she answered. "Esther called me. He's been snooping around your apartment. Seems like he's waiting for you to return."
"I should have killed the bastard," the vampire stated, looking down at Willow.
Willow, in turn, looked over at Buffy, "Are you going to stop us this time?"
"I won't help you, but I won't stop you, either," she vowed, and was rewarded with the first true smile her old friend had directed at her in days.
"He was there when I called you, but I'm sure he's gone by now," she added.
"We'll find him," Spike promised.
"Looking for someone?" Willow asked sweetly as they met up with Brian two blocks away from her apartment.
Buffy imagined she could hear him gulp as he looked up at the vampire's hard eyes.
"I--I think I've found a way to fix what I've done," he told them.
"I don't want you 'fixing' anything," Willow snapped.
"I wouldn't worry about it," Buffy said and looked at Brian. "Giles says that's not possible, and somehow, I find it hard to believe you want to face the demon you provoked."
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.
Spike took a step toward the man, "I think she's calling you a fucking liar. If she isn't, I am."
Brian took a small step backwards, "I'm not the only one who doesn't want Willow to be with you. I just thought if I could catch her alone--"
"You could drag her off," Buffy finished. "What makes you think I'd rather have Willow with you than with Spike? At least Spike won't hurt her."
"Not unless I want him to," Willow added happily.
Brian's expression grew angry, "She wouldn't even be with him if I hadn't--"
The three waited for a moment for him to continue.
"Exactly," Buffy finally said. "If you hadn't gone after her to begin with. You just don't learn, do you?"
"I don't want to be with you," Willow spoke. "From what you said before, I never wanted to."
"I don't accept that," he stated. "You belong with me. I won't give up what should have been mine to begin with."
"Well, if you feel that way about it," Spike shrugged, reaching out and grabbing him by the collar. "Slayer, you may want to go check out the cemetery or the park or--somewhere. It's your duty to make sure the town is safe, after all."
"I suppose you're right," she sighed and turned to leave. "I am late for patrol. Catch up with you later, Willow?"
"Sure," she nodded. "Buffy?"
The slayer looked back at her, "Yeah."
"Maybe you're not so bad after all," the redhead grinned.
"Anything for you, Will. Anything, always," Buffy smiled.
Brian kicked out at the vampire as the slayer quickly disappeared down the dark street. Spike's other hand curled around the man's throat.
"You watching, sweetheart?" he asked Willow. "It was the windpipe, wasn't it?"
"Yeah," she nodded with interest.
He tightened his grip around the struggling man's throat, and Brian's hands clamped over the vampire's, trying desperately to pry them free. A gurgling sound came from his throat under Spike's hand, and his knees buckled. His heartbeat slowed and then stopped, and Spike dropped him unceremoniously to the ground.
"Huh. Just like that," Willow said.
He grinned and took her hand in his, "Just like that."
They walked in silence for several moments before Spike looked over at her.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yes. I was just thinking," she answered. "That was nice of Buffy to walk away like that."
"She'll never be my friend, ducks. She is the slayer, after all. But she has been your friend since before I ever knew you, and she does care about you. That counts."
"I'd like to spend some time with her, just to talk," Willow admitted. "Would that bother you?"
Spike shook his head, "Not if it's what you want."
"Will you go with me?" she asked.
He brought her hand to his lips, "If you like."
Willow lapsed back into thoughtful silence until Spike squeezed her hand.
"What's wrong, luv?"
"Just thinking, again," she said.
He stopped walking and turned her to face him, "Tell me."
"Spike, I didn't live with you before, did I?"
"No," he answered.
"So, do I have to go back there--to that apartment--now? I mean, I don't even remember that place, or anything else, for that matter. You're the only thing I remember, and even if everyone else thinks I shouldn't, I feel comfortable with you. I love you. And now, with this curse and everything--can't I just stay with you?"
"I was sort of counting on it," he told her.
"You were?" she asked, brightening considerably.
"I love you, Willow, and the curse has nothing to do with that from my side. I don't know whether our friendship would have developed into love on your part if you hadn't been cursed--"
"It would have," she said firmly.
"How do you know that?" he asked, arching a brow.
"Was I stupid--before?"
He looked at her, bewildered, "What?"
"Was I?"
"No. You're one of the most intelligent people I've ever known," he answered.
"Well, there you are, then," she said. "I would have loved you."
Spike pulled her into his arms, laughing softly at her unique brand of logic. Willow's arms wound around his neck as he bent to kiss her.
"That's good enough for me," he said softly, the taste of her mouth lingering on his lips. "Besides, having you with me will drive the slayer crazy."
"Let's go tell her," Willow suggested.
"Let's go home," Spike responded. "I made you a promise earlier, remember?"
"Oh, yeah," she nodded and laced her arm through his. "Let's go home."
The End
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