Past Imperfect -- by Ruby


Rating: NC-17

Description: Spike has had a slight mental adjustment.

Note: Dedication -- For Selene. Your kind comment made my weekend.:-)

Disclaimer: Joss owns all.


Willow waited until the last of the dark figures had climbed into the car and pulled away before she crept out of the bushes and made her way to the door of the old, abandoned house. The heavy lock prevented her from entering for only as long as it took her to find a narrow, broken window at the back of the house.

She considered, once more, going back to campus to find Buffy. The slayer had agreed to go to a movie with Riley, and Willow hated the idea of pulling her friend away from her first date with him. Besides, the redhead reminded herself, she had counted the shadowy figures twice--once when they entered the building and once when they left. They had all gone, save one, and she knew who had been left behind.

She hoisted herself through the window and landed silently on the wood floor inside. It took a few minutes for her eyes to adjust to the darkness and several more to scout the myriad of corridors and stairways that lead to the locked room she was seeking. How she knew Spike had been brought here she did not know, but she suspected it had something to do with the tiny scars that still adorned her neck from the night he had attacked her in her dorm room.

Willow found a set of keys hanging from the wall beside the thick wooden door and tried each of them until she found the one that fit into the lock. Cautiously, she pulled the door open and stepped through. Spike lay on his side on an old mattress near the wall, and she knelt over him and placed her hand on his arm. He moaned softly, and his eyes snapped open with a bright flash of amber. She gasped and quickly drew her hand away.

"Willow," he whispered and reached for her.

"Yes," she nodded, looking warily at him.

"Willow," he murmured again and pushed himself up to plant a hard kiss on her lips before wrapping his arms around her. "Sweetheart, I--"

"What?" she squeaked, struggling backed to stare at him.

He tugged her back to him, refusing to let go, "I love you, baby. I can't believe you found me."

"Very heartwarming," a male voice spoke from the doorway. "Did you really think we'd leave him unguarded?"

Willow turned quickly as the man leveled a gun at her. His cold eyes moved from the redhead to the vampire who was clutching her waist.

"Let's just hope it's true love," he smirked at Spike. "Because you two are going to be together for a very long time."

The man backed out of the room, slammed the door shut, and turned the key in the lock.

"How did you find me?" Spike asked after a brief silence.

"I--I don't really know. I just knew--somehow--that you were in trouble."

He smiled weakly and brushed his lips over hers, then groaned in pain as she tried to push herself away from him.

Carefully, she pressed her hand against his ribs and looked up at him as he grimaced.

"You're hurt," she whispered, tugging his shirt up to examine the angry bruises on his side. "How long has it been since you fed?"

"Fed? I don't remember. Wasn't I with you?"

She brushed her fingers over the scars on her neck, "That was almost three weeks--"

"Willow," his voice registered his alarm, "Who did that to you? Who hurt you?"

"Don't you remember?" she asked, searching his face for any sign of deception and finding none. "You're hurt pretty badly. You need to feed."

He looked at her curiously, wondering at the strange expression, "There's no food here, ducks."

She sighed and willed her racing heart to quiet, "We have to get out of here, and I don't think I can manage it without you. Here."

She slid closer to him and turned her head, offering her neck to him.

"Just--don't take too much, please," she whispered.

Spike's hand gripped her shoulder, and he turned her face to his with a gentle hand on her cheek, "Baby, what are you doing?"

"Spike! You need blood. Just do it, already!"

"Blood? Are you saying--do you think I did that to you?" his fingers moved to the wounds on her neck. "I couldn't hurt you, luv. Not ever. Why would I--"

"You really don't remember," she said. "You're a vampire. You need blood to exist, to heal. I don't think your ribs are broken, but they're--"

"A vampire," he repeated slowly. "Luv, what's wrong with you? You aren't making sense."

"Look, I don't know what's happened here, but you do need my blood," she insisted. "It's been two days since anyone's seen you, and if you haven't fed in that long, you have to be dangerously weak. I need you strong if we're going to get out of here. Just drink from me."

"Assuming you haven't gone completely round the bend, and I'd adore you anyway, I wouldn't even know how to--feed--as you put it. What do I do?"

Exasperation was quickly getting the better of the redhead, "I don't know! You just go all grrr and start sucking on people! How the hell should I know how you do it?"

She shook her head as he laughed softly at her, and she placed her hand around his neck and drew his mouth to her throat.

"Just think blood and shoving your fangs in my neck--gently shoving, I mean, not--" she jumped as he placed a soft kiss on her neck. "That isn't what you're

supposed to--Oh!"

She gasped breathlessly as his cold lips traveled to the hollow of her throat. Spike laughed once more and lifted his mouth to hers, running his tongue over her lips before sliding it between her teeth to explore the warmth of her mouth.

"This isn't working," she murmured, pulling away.

"Oh, I don't know, ducks. It's working for me," he whispered. "I love you. I don't know who that man was or why I'm here, but I'm so glad you found me."

"You don't love me," she tried to tell him.

"Is that what happened? Did we have a fight?" he asked. "Whatever it was, I'm sorry, baby. I'll always love you."

His mouth took hers again, and Willow fought the heat spreading through her body, placed her hands on his cheeks, and gently drew away.

"Maybe if you just concentrate on my neck," she suggested.

"With pleasure," he grinned and traced her jawline with his lips, moving down to the soft skin of her throat. She felt his arms tighten around her as his tongue slowly caressed the small scars. A soft snarl unwittingly broke from his lips, and she forced herself to remain still.

"Drink me," she whispered, running her fingers along the nape of his neck.

She whimpered softly as she felt his fangs brush over her wounds before carefully piercing them. He drank slowly, his gentle fingers kneading the tense muscles in her back. He was as careful now as he had been viscous three weeks ago in her room, and her body relaxed as he pulled away and lapped at the twin dots of blood on her throat.

"Do you remember now? Do you know what you are?" she asked.

"I remember," he answered. "I'm a vampire. And I'm yours. Only yours. I love you, Willow."

Her protest was stopped before it could leave her lips as he took them in a long, fiery kiss.


Willow spent the early hours of the morning alternately trying to find a way out of their prison and trying to refuse the confused vampire's amorous suggestions. She couldn't help wondering how Spike would react when he finally came to his senses. The last thing she wanted was to be locked up in this creaky old building when his memory righted itself.

"It's hopeless, pet," Spike said as she tugged at the locked door. "You're tired. Come lay down with me."

She swallowed as she felt his arms encircling her waist from behind her, and he pulled her back toward the tattered mattress on the floor.

"We have to get out of here," she told him.

"I know," he nodded, pulling her down with him. "Just rest for a bit."

Gently pushing her onto her back, he covered her mouth with his and explored her mouth with slow strokes of his tongue.

"You want me," he whispered as the scent of her growing desire betrayed the redhead.

"We can't. Spike, I--"

"Those marks on your neck--before I drank from you tonight--they're mine, aren't they? Did I hurt, before?" he asked, his eyes heavy with dread. "What happened to me? How did I become what I am?"

"Do you remember anything? Buffy? Angel?"

"What are they?" he asked.

She giggled softly, "They're people. Buffy's the slayer, and Angel is your sire. Does any of this mean anything to you?"

"You're the only one who means anything to me," he smiled. "But yes, I do remember them, now. Buffy's your friend, isn't she?"

"Yes," Willow nodded.

"And Angel--there's something different about him."

"He has a soul," she reminded him.

"That's right. Why did he turn me? Because we were friends? Was he helping me somehow?"

"Oh, boy," Willow thought to herself. "We are so _not_ going there."

"Do you remember Drusilla?" she asked, sidestepping his questions.

"I loved her. Or I thought I did, before I loved you. She left me, and then I found you, and it didn't matter anymore."

Willow couldn't help marveling at the strange twists in his memories.

"Anyway, Buffy must be looking for us," he said. "Angel left town, didn't he? It's too bad they couldn't have found what we have. She's a very determined woman. She's bound to find us, and until then, we're alone, and you're safe."

"Spike, we--"

"Shhh," he smiled and traced her lips with the tip of his finger. "I won't let anything happen to you."

He dropped his mouth to hers, and Willow breathed in sharply as his hands moved under her shirt and skimmed over her warm tummy. Spike deepened the kiss as he

cupped her satin-covered breast and worried the nipple with his thumb until it hardened. Willow's mind went blank as her body took over, responding of its own

accord to his soft ministrations. Her legs parted as he lifted the hem of her skirt, and his hand sought the warmth of her sex. He rubbed his fingers over her slit, teasing the juices from her core. Willow tore her mouth from his at the unmistakable sound of his zipper being drawn down.

"It's all right, sweetheart. We're alone," he reassured her before taking her lips again.

Her brain urged her to struggle free as her heart beat rapidly, the quick rhythm throbbing at his marks on her neck. Unconsciously her hips ground against his

hand as the desire to feel him inside her, filling her, sating her need, overtook reason. Spike ripped away the thin fabric of her panties, and she moaned as his cock brushed over her opening and plunged inside, sliding easily between her wet, tight walls.

Willow arched to meet him as he pounded into her, drawing her body into his rhythm. His lips moved over her eyelids, her cheeks, along her jaw and throat as he felt her channel contracting around him. His fingers rubbed over her clit, and she babbled his name in soft pants as she drove back into him. He returned to the tender wounds on her neck and pierced them, sending her over the edge with a loud cry. He flooded

her womb with his seed and lapped at her blood as he came, a soft growl of possession rumbling in the back of his throat.

A thousand tangled thoughts raced through Willow's mind, and she shivered at the intensity of their coupling. He pulled her close against him as he moved onto his side and curled her around him.

"I love you," he whispered and squeezed her tightly as her walls continued to flutter around him.

His hand rubbing softly over her firm, rounded buttocks and his lips brushing tenderly over her forehead gently lulled her troubled mind to sleep.


Willow slid off of the mattress and stood up to straighten her clothes, discarding the panties which were torn beyond wearing. She turned away as Spike stirred and sat up to tend to his similar state of undress. She went to the door and reached for the

latch, then pulled her hand quickly back as the key scraped in the lock. Spike was on his feet, dragging her back to his side, when the door swung open. Darkly cruel eyes peered out from the hooded figure and raked over the redhead.

"Time for some fun," the man announced and stepped toward her.

Spike shoved her behind him and lunged at the stranger. The gun in his hand clattered to the floor as the vampire landed on top of him and buried his fangs in the man's neck. Willow's back was pressed flat against the wall when Spike released the corpse and turned his human visage to her.

"It's all right, baby. He can't hurt you now," he said softly.

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her head.

"I'd almost forgotten I could do that," he admitted.

"Instinct," she told him.

"Protecting what I love," he nodded. "Let's see if we can find our way out of here."


"This place must have been the product of some crazed architect's dementia," Willow muttered as they made their way down yet another corridor.

The old house was riddled with hallways leading to dead ends, stairways leading in both directions, and doors leading to empty rooms. The windows had either been boarded or bricked over at some point in the distant past. Willow kept close to Spike's side, allowing his keener vision to lead them through the dark, dusty passageways.

Spike forced a sigh from his lungs as they came to the end of the hallway. A flight of stairs to his left led up; another to his right led down. He looked around at the redhead.

"Down," she suggested.

He nodded and took her hand. The third step from the bottom had all but rotted through, and Willow cried out as the board under her foot gave way. Spike caught her around the waist, lifted her up, and held her against him as he stepped off the last stair.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I'm--" her breath caught as his concerned eyes locked on hers. "I'm fine. Thank you."

He smiled and placed a quick kiss on her lips before lowering her to her feet. Willow groaned as they turned to look down another seemingly endless corridor.

"Don't worry, luv. We'll find our way out. Anyway, Buffy must be looking for us by now. She'll find us," he said.

"That could take longer than you think," she warned him.

"Why? Where is this place?"

"We're near the old reservoir just outside of town. The way I figure it, this should be just about the last place she looks," she answered. "And those guys who brought you here are bound to come back."

"Good. I plan on feeding them their own eyeballs," he nodded.

Willow grinned in spite of the vampire's menacing tone. That sounded more like the Spike she knew.


"Where the hell would he take her?" Giles asked.

"I don't know," Buffy admitted and shot a worried glance at Xander. "We've been to the factory, the mansion. I even checked out the tunnels that lead to the dorm. I'm not saying Spike is all trustworthy or anything, but I don't think he took her."

"They're both missing. No one's heard a word from either of them. Even we non-intellectuals can figure the math on this one," Xander argued.

"I think what Buffy is saying is that they both may have been taken," Giles explained.

The slayer nodded, "I don't believe Spike just took off with her. If I hadn't gone to the movies-"

"Wanting a social life doesn't mean you're to blame for this," Giles stopped her. "Willow was gone when you got back around midnight, and no one saw anyone leaving the dorm with her. She must have left on her own."

"We'll check around town again," Buffy shrugged despondently.

"You need to get some sleep. You spent all last night looking for her," Giles said.

"I cut class and got a couple of hours this afternoon. It'll be sunset soon. If Spike's capable of moving about, I need to be out where I can see him. Come on, Xander," she motioned to him as she stood up and went to the door.

"Let me know if you find anything," Giles requested.

"I will," she promised.


"I'm sorry," Willow sighed as she leaned back against the wall.

"For what, pet?"

"I should have paid closer attention to how I got to your room. It seemed simple enough at the time. Something was drawing me to where you were. I found you almost without having to think about it."

"Your blood in my veins," he told her.

"But that was weeks ago!"

"You drank from me, too," he said.

"Did I?" she asked him, struggling to remember exactly what had happened that night.

"You must have done. We're lovers. I'm sure I would have given you my blood in return," he reasoned.

"If you did, why am I not a vampire?"

He smiled and placed his hand against her cheek, "Because I didn't drain you first. My blood in your mortal veins creates a bond between us, sweetheart. That's what drew you here to me."

"How long does this--bond--last?" she asked. "I mean, it's been three weeks since you--"

"It would easily have lasted that long. I haven't offered you my blood since then? I'm sorry, baby."

"No!" her eyes flew to his. "I don't need--"

"You don't like it," he nodded. "That's understandable. But you love me enough to keep that bond strong by drinking from me."

She gulped as he pulled her closer to him. "If I had remembered it had been that long, I'd have offered you my blood last night when we-"

"No, really," she mumbled against his chest. "It's okay. You were hurt, and I--"

"I'm better now," he smiled. "Come here."

"Spike! Those men. They could come back any time. We should be trying to--"

"We will," he whispered against her mouth before drawing her lip between his teeth to suck and nibble at it.

Willow trembled at the realization of what Spike intended to do, but she was even more frightened of fighting him off, frightened of the consequences should he suddenly remembered they hadn't been together in the past. She had no idea why his memories were garbled, and she had no idea what, if anything, might bring them back into focus. And she couldn't deny the pleasurable sensation his lips and hands were creating as they moved over her body. Whether it was the effect of their bond or something much more natural, he made her want him as no one else ever had.

Her tongue slid over his as he unzipped his jeans and freed his hard cock from its confinement. She gripped his shoulders as he raised her skirt and lifted her up, pinning her between his body and the wall behind her. The tip of his shaft brushed over her sex, and she moaned softly and wrapped her legs around him as he entered her slowly. Spike's eyes darkened with want as they stared into hers. His lips danced lightly over her warm cheek as she panted softly in time to his rhythm as he pumped into her. He bit into her neck and held her tight as her sudden climax brought his name to her lips. Holding her with one arm, he bit into his wrist and brought it to her lips.

"Drink," the soft encouragement drifted through the haze in her mind. "I love you, Willow. Be with me."

She closed her eyes and suckled at the gash on his wrist. He growled and slammed his cock into her, shooting his cold seed deep inside her as his blood flowed into her mouth. Pulling his arm away from her lips, he crushed her tiny body to his as her head dropped to his shoulder, and she struggled to regain reality.

She felt gentle fingers stroking her hair as he rocked her slowly. The wispy fog that had curled around her thoughts gradually lifted, and she raised her head to look into the depths of his eyes. He lowered her to the floor and took the lips that tilted to meet his as Willow's arms wrapped snugly around his neck.


It was well past sunset when Spike pulled open what seemed like the thousandth door, to be greeted by a gentle breeze of the fresh night air. Willow squeezed Spike's hand and smiled happily up at him as he pulled her outside.

"We did it," she sighed.

"We're not in the clear, yet," he warned her, his sensitive ears having picked up the sound of tires on gravel.

He pulled the redhead into the shadows as a pair of headlights swung around a bend in the road. Two men climbed out of the car and headed for the door at the front of the house.

"Come on," Spike said softly and moved toward the car.

He yanked the door open, reached in with one arm, and leaned on the horn.

"What are you doing?" Willow squealed.

"I want to know who they are and why they came after me," he answered. "And I bloody well mean to find out."

Both men came charging back out of the house. The headlights glimmered off the weapon one of them lifted to his shoulder.

"Spike!" Willow barked and grabbed his arm.

She hauled him down so quickly, he lost his footing and landed on his ass on the ground behind the open car door. An arrow slammed into the window, and he pulled Willow close to him, shielding her with his arms from the flying shards of glass. He scrambled to his feet and flew around the door, nearly running directly into one of the men. Spike's amber eyes burned angrily, and his fangs flashed in the headlights before they sank into the man's throat and tore open his jugular.

"Spike, they're human!" Willow shouted as she reached for him.

"You don't have to be unmortal to be a bastard," he snarled and took off after the second man.

The man turned as Spike gained on him, and he swung the crossbow at the vampire's head. Spike grabbed it and hurled it into the darkness, then latched onto the man's hair and snapped his neck. He returned to Willow and gently pushed her into the car before sliding in beside her.

"I thought you wanted answers," she said as she tried to calm her trembling nerves.

"I got carried away," he shrugged with a small grin and backed the car around.

He shoved the vehicle into drive and reached for Willow, pulling her close to his side.

"You're safe now. That's all that matters," he told her as they sped away from the house.


Buffy whirled around as a car screeched to a halt beside the curb. The door flew open, and the slayer's jaw dropped.

"Willow!" she called out as the redhead ran to her.

Buffy hugged her and stepped back to take a long, appraising look at her friend.

"Where have you been? We've been looking for you since--" her relieved eyes hardened as Spike came around the front of the car.

"I should have known," she hissed. "I'll stake him!"

"No!" Willow a grabbed hold of the slayer. "It isn't what you think, Buffy. I swear it isn't. Something's wrong. We have to talk to Giles."


"You don't know who they were?" Giles asked.

"No idea," Spike answered. "I don't even remember being taken. I just woke up in that room, and Willow was there."

"You shouldn't have gone there alone," Buffy admonished Willow gently. "There's no date on earth more important than you."

"I know," the redhead smiled. "I just--I knew he was in trouble. I had to find him. Anyway, I'm okay."

"Okay?" Xander stared at her. "You've got two holes in your neck. You call that okay?"

"He needed--he was hurt. I offered, Xander," Willow insisted. "He didn't force me."

"I'd never force you, pet," Spike said, taking her hand in both of this own.

"Willow, you said you knew he was in trouble. How did you know? How did you find him?" Giles asked.

"I don't know. I just--did."

"My blood drew her to me," Spike told the watcher.

"You drank from him," Giles said to Willow. "That night in your dorm, after he bit you. You drank from him."

"I don't remember it, but I must have," she answered.

"I should stake you right now, you bastard," the slayer glared at Spike.

"Buffy, I know you don't trust me, but you know how I feel about Willow. It isn't unusual for vampires to offer their blood to their lovers," Spike replied.

Buffy gaped at him, as shocked at hearing her name on his lips as she was at his reference to Willow as his lover.

"Spike, how long have you and Willow been--involved?" Giles asked.

"You know all of this--"

"Humor me," the man requested.

Spike shrugged and sat back, pulling Willow with him and tucking her under his arm, "After I left Dru for good and came back here, I realized how I felt about Willow."

"You went to her dorm. Do you remember that?"

The vampire nodded and nuzzled his cheek against Willow's hair, "That was the first night we claimed each other, the first time I told her I love her."

"I can't listen to this," Buffy growled. "He's deluded."

"I don't understand you," Spike said to her. "I thought you were okay with this."

"You thought I was okay with you breaking into our room and atta--"

"Buffy!" Willow jumped up and grabbed her arm.

"He's sitting there with his hands all over you like he thinks--"

"Not here," the redhead insisted and pushed her out the front door.

"He's playing some sort of game," Buffy warned her as Willow closed the door. "I don't know what--"

"No, he isn't. He remembers everything--you, Angel, Drusilla, me--everything. He just doesn't remember things correctly."

"Big understatement there, Will."

"Buffy, he never tried to hurt me when we were alone in that house. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have gotten out of that place."

"If it weren't for him, you never would have been drawn there to begin with! He forced you to drink his blood the night he attacked you!"

"I know that, now, but I didn't then, and he doesn't remember that night as an attack. We have to find out who those men were and why they took Spike. His memory seemed clear enough before they dragged him off."

"I suppose you're right," Buffy sighed. "But I don't want you near him."

"He thinks we're in love. He won't hurt me,"

"What happens when he really does remember? What do you think he'll do to you then?"

"I don't know," Willow admitted. "But he hasn't tried to hurt me since he was forced into helping us. If he ever remembers things correctly again, he'll also know none of this was our fault."

"Okay, but I'm keeping close tabs on you."

"I hope so," the redhead grinned. "I'm going to get Spike out of here before Xander says something he shouldn't. Will you talk to him about this?"

"Yeah," Buffy nodded. "Just promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise," Willow nodded. "Oh, and that car we drove up in. Spike stole it from two of the guys who are involved in this."

"And where are those guys now?" she asked.

"Um, well...actually, they're sort of...dead," Willow answered. "But he had to! They had a crossbow and guns and--"

"I get it, Will," Buffy grinned. "I'll ask Giles to check out the car and see if he can find out who owned it."


"Buffy didn't seem too keen about you leaving with me," Spike said as they walked toward campus.

"She's just worried, after everything that's happened."

"Can't fault her for that," he nodded. "I'm not letting you out of my sight, you know."

"Spike, my room isn't big enough for the three of us."

"Exactly. So, we'll get a few of your things and go back to my place."

"No! I mean, I can't go off with you now without a word to--"

"I already told Giles while you were talking to Buffy. He knows where you'll be."

Willow looked up at him, "He does? He's okay with it?"

"Yeah. The git didn't seem too thrilled about it, though. I thought he was shagging that demon--what's her name?"

"Anya. I guess they're together. Sort of," she answered.

"Then why is he so jealous that you love me?"

"I'm sure he isn't jealous. We've just been friends since forever, and--"

"He jealous," Spike insisted, his lips curling into a grin. "I'll bet he calls out your name when he's sticking it to her."

"Spike!" she squealed.

He chuckled at the blush that spread over her cheeks and pulled her around to give her a kiss.

"Come on, luv. Let's go get your things and get back to my place. I want to spend tomorrow in bed with you."


"Giles, you here?" Buffy called out as she let herself in through the front door.

"I'll be right there," he answered from the hallway.

She plopped down on the sofa and picked up some papers that were scattered over the coffee table. Giles stopped at the end of the hall and watched while he buttoned his shirt sleeves. She turned as he went into the kitchen and turned off the burner under the tea kettle.

"Giles, what is this?" she asked, waving the papers at him.

"You read them," he answered and reached for a mug. "You know what they are."

"The longer Willow drinks from Spike, the stronger the bond grows between them," Buffy stated.

"To be more precise, they must drink from each other," he corrected her. "I needed to know what the effects would be."

"Good idea," she agreed. "But we don't have to worry about it since Willow only drank from him once."

"Twice," Giles said as he dropped a tea bag into the mug and poured in the hot water.

"Twice?" her voice rose in alarm. "Twice??"

"Spike told me they drank from each other while they were trapped in that house."

"And you didn't stake him? Have you lost your mind?" she demanded. "And why didn't Willow tell me about this?"

"Probably because she knew you'd react the way you are right now," he said coolly. "I got a good look at her wounds while we were talking last night. They aren't very deep. He isn't trying to drain her."

"Oh, well that's a comfort," she snapped.

"Buffy, under the circumstances, it may be the best thing. Spike's memories are flawed. I haven't been able to determine the cause, but I think we have to assume this won't last forever. When he finally remembers things as they really were, he won't want to hurt Willow. Not as long as they're bonded."

"Are you saying his feelings for Willow are genuine?" she asked.

"Probably not originally. The first time she drank from him, it was a matter of force. The second time--it wasn't. This is pure supposition on my part, but I think he believes he loved her before because he loves her now."

"No," she said firmly. "He thinks he loves her now because his mind is screwed up."

"He doesn't call us his friends. He calls us Willow's friends. He was civil to us last night because we matter to her. Willow went after him. She found him, offered her blood to help him heal, drank from him willingly. He may never have developed these feelings if he hadn't forced her to drink that first time. That forced bond became a spontaneous bond when she offered her blood to him and drank willingly from him."

"And when he finally remembers everything?" she asked.

"He'll also remember what's happened since his abduction. As I said, this is speculation, but I don't think his feelings for Willow will change."

"But she doesn't love him. What happens when he realizes that?"

Giles sighed and set the mug down. He walked around the counter and looked down at her.

"You aren't hearing me, Buffy. She _offered_ her blood. She _willingly_ accepted his."

"She thought she had no choice! She was afraid he'd remember and hurt her again!"

"Only partly. I suspect a much bigger part wanted to do what she did. The bond existed from the first time she drank from him, though she didn't realize it. She couldn't have stopped herself from helping him. She wanted to, more than her reason could have fought. That bond would have faded over time, but not now. Not as long as she continues to drink from him. She trusts him as he is now, and by the time he regains his true memory, he'll be long past hurting her."

"So you're saying, in a warped way, Willow is safe with Spike."

"That's what I'm saying," he nodded. "Unless I'm completely wrong about all of this."

"Right," she smiled. "When's the last time you were wrong about anything dealing with the unnaturally icky?"

"Good point," he grinned.


Spike sat up as Willow swung her feet over the side of the bed and reached to pluck her crumpled shirt from the floor. She started as his hands came around her to

cover the globes of her soft breasts.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, his low voice next to her ear sending shivers down her spine.

"I need to talk to Giles. We have to find out who took you and what they did to you," she answered.

He pulled her back against his bare chest. His fingers gently squeezed her breasts, and she moaned as his lips touched her shoulder.

"Don't you think Giles can wait? He'll still be there in a couple of hours," the vampire suggested.

"Yes, but--"

He shifted her to rest against the crook of his arm and tasted her lips, parting them gently to flick his tongue against hers. She curled her fingers through his hair, her tongue playing with his, and wriggled against the fingers that dipped between her thick folds. Lowering her down under him, he entered her quickly and paused as her body adjusted to his welcome intrusion.

He kissed the marks on her neck and bit into them as he pumped into her in long, deep strokes while his fingers rolled her slick nub between them. Spike ran a fingernail along the base of his throat and drew her mouth to it. She suckled at the small wound, and he felt her body tense under him. He drove into her, fighting his own climax until he heard her soft cry of release, felt her walls clenching around him. He let himself go as she milked his seed from his shaft, and he slammed into her, embedding himself completely within her as he roared her name.

Willow curled into him as he rolled off of her, and Spike's lips rested softly on hers. His blood in her veins created a peaceful, hypnotic sort of numbness in her mind which was not at all unpleasant.

"What is this that you do to me?" she asked lazily.

"It's the bond, drawing us into each other," he answered.

"Then you feel it, too?"

"I feel it," he smiled and kissed her. "I'm only content when you're near me. I'm only one half without you."

"One half," she murmured. "That's it, exactly. I'm surprised you remember all this when you don't--"

"What?" he urged her to continue as she looked hesitantly at him.

"Well, you don't remember things quite the way they really were. I mean, you have all the memories; they're just--different."

"Doesn't matter," he told her. "The only thing that matters is you--here, with me."

A happy little purr broke from her lips as she snuggled down comfortably against his chest.

"We have to talk to Giles, though," she commented with a yawn. "We have to find out what happened to you."

"I know, baby," he agreed. "But later, together."


"You're not being very helpful," Buffy grumbled at the blonde vampire.

"I'm telling you everything just the way I remember it," he argued.

"Well, you don't remember it right!" she sighed impatiently.

"Buffy," Giles placed his hand on her shoulder. "That isn't helpful. Spike you don't remember being taken?"

"No," he answered. "I already told you--"

"I know," the watcher stopped him. "But I'm at a loss to explain what happened to you. I'm reasonably certain it isn't a demon we're dealing with. I just don't understand why your memories are completely inaccurate."

"I don't care about that," Spike insisted.

"How can you not care? Doesn't it bother you that someone's been screwing around with your mind?" Buffy asked incredulously.

"What bloody difference does it make? The only memories that matter concern Willow, anyway."

"But those aren't right, either!" the slayer maintained.

Spike snarled and stood up, "I don't give a damn. She's mine, now. My blood mate. I love her. I don't care about before."

"Well, I do! She doesn't love you!"

Willow moved to Spike's side and took his hand as his eyes met hers.

"What?" Buffy asked trying to read her expression and fighting the reality dawning in her mind. "What?!?"

"I need him," Willow answered, her eyes never straying from Spike's.

"No! Will, you don't know what you're saying!"

"Yes, I do," she said calmly.

"You can't! He's a--"

"Buffy, can I talk to you for a moment--privately?" Giles requested.

Reluctantly, she allowed him to pull her into the kitchen.

"Is this something I really want to hear?" she whined.

He grinned fondly at her, "Probably not. Willow means what she's saying."

"Don't be ridiculous! Of course she doesn't! It's just this stupid bond thingy that's addled her senses."

"The bond is the pull, but the feelings that are evolving are genuine, just as Spike's are for her."

"Do you realize what you're saying? She says she needs him. And as if that weren't bad enough, you're making it sound like she loves him. Giles, they've been enemies since--"

"The fact she's your friend is what made them enemies," he interrupted. "When Spike came back to Sunnydale after Drusilla left him the first time, he went directly for Willow."

"Because he needed a spell to--"

"You think she's the only one on the Hellmouth who could have performed that spell? He could even have gone back to South America and found someone there to do it. He didn't have to kidnap the slayer's best friend. It would have been far safer--and wiser-to have left her alone."

"Like Spike's ever been prone to doing anything wise," she rolled her eyes. "Are you saying he wanted her before all this started?"

"It's a strong possibility. He could have come after any one of us when he returned a few weeks ago-Xander or myself, for instance. But he went after Willow. I don't know if he was consciously aware of the attraction, but everything indicates that it already existed."

"Vampires don't fall in love with humans," she argued.

Giles arched an eyebrow and stared down at her, "Oh, really?"

The slayer blushed and studied her nails, "Okay, we'll move that to the top of the list of the stupidest things I've ever said. Are you really convinced she's safe with him?"

"What do you think?" he nodded toward the living room.

Buffy turned her head to see Spike and Willow wrapped around one another, her head resting on his chest as his fingers brushed over her hair.

"Gods, she never looked that content, even with Oz," the slayer murmured, transfixed by the tender exchange.

Giles nodded as she looked back at him, "The important thing now is to find out what happened to Spike. I just want you to understand it won't make any difference as far as his feelings for Willow are concerned."

"Do you think she's in danger--from whoever took Spike, I mean--now that they're together?"

"I'm afraid it's very likely."

"Then we have to track them down and find out what they did to him," she asserted.

"Agreed," he nodded.


Spike was growing impatient with waiting. Buffy had insisted she go alone to try to track down the men who abducted him. She had argued that a collection of bloodless corpses wouldn't provide any useful information, and Willow needed to remain behind where she would be safe. However, as the hours continued to snail by, the vampire began to regret having agreed to the slayer's demands.

"I should have turned you that night," he muttered to the redhead beside him. "We both could have been out there, sucking the life out of those bastards."

She looked up at him. Something in his voice sent a chill through her veins, and she waited with a sense of foreboding for him to continue.

"You didn't want me, then," he said, looking knowingly back at her.

"No," she admitted.

"In fact, you were afraid of me. We hadn't been lovers."

"No," she repeated more softly.

"What happened to your wolf?"

The question rattled her for a moment, and she stood up and turned away from him, twisting her fingers nervously together as she realized his true memory was returning, piece by piece.

"He--left me," she whispered.

His eyes flew to her. It was not the answer he had expected, and the raw pain in her voice was almost palpable.

"Why?" he asked, his voice almost tender in its tone.

She shook her head and moved to the window, keeping her back to him as she answered, "He decided he couldn't be with me. He was afraid of what he might do, of hurting me. I haven't seen or heard from him in over a month."

"You're still in love with him," the statement was mildly accusatory, laced with jealousy.

"I don't know what I am," she sighed. "Tired, mostly. I guess."

He stood and moved toward her, "Do you love me?"

"Maybe. Or maybe it's just the blood between us."

Spike put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him, "Or maybe it's the same thing."

"Hold me," she whispered, her small hands digging into the sleeves of his duster.

He pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her.

"You're all I can feel. All of the time, whether I'm asleep or awake, there's only you," she murmured.

"I know," he nodded against her hair.

He drew her back to the chair and pulled her onto his lap to nuzzle her neck. She gasped as he bit into her and drank slowly before opening a small gash on his own neck and pulling her lips down to drink from him. Willow accepted his blood without hesitation. The bond had developed to the point that refusal didn't even occur to the redhead. To deny her body the blood that spilled from him would have been like denying her lungs the oxygen they needed to survive.

Spike smiled softly as she lapped contentedly at his blood. Little by little, the muddy memories of the past weeks had begun to filter through his brain until they now flowed clearly. He was grateful he had gotten to her before he'd been dragged off by his abductors. Grateful he had decided to initiate the bond rather than turn her. And grateful he had remembered nothing of his true intentions before the bond had been cemented between himself and his redhead.

He paused in his thoughts as Willow shifted her head away from his neck to rest against his chest. She relaxed against him for several silent minutes and waited for the buzzing in her brain to subside.

"You remember everything, now, don't you?" she finally whispered.

"Everything," he nodded.

"Tell me," she asked.


"Where would you like me to start?" Spike asked as he settled Willow more comfortably against him.

"Why did you come back here? Why did you leave Drusilla?"

"I'd had enough of waiting my turn while she screwed anything that moved," he answered with no trace of anger. "I decided I wanted you before I ever got back here."

"I thought you were just after that gem," she said.

"I was after two gems," he answered. "The one I lost, and you."

She smiled softly at the gentle compliment, "That night, in the dorm, were you planning on turning me?"

"Originally," he nodded. "Then, after I'd gotten you under me, I decided it might be more fun to have you as a mortal. There's something to be said for a heartbeat and warm flesh."

"So you decided to use me," she concluded sadly.

"No," he shook his head. "I wanted you then the same way I want you now. I never intended to shag you and kill you, or let you go. That's why I forced you to drink from me."

"You knew about the bond?"

"I'm a vampire, luv. Of course I knew. We don't often use it on mortals unless we plan on turning them, but as I said, I'd made up my mind I wanted you as a mortal."

"Then why did you back off after that?" she wondered. "Until I found you in that house, you never made me drink again, did you? And you had plenty of chances since you've been helping us and everything. Did you change your mind about me?"

"Just the opposite. The bond becomes much stronger if the blood is exchanged willingly. The first time, I had to force you. You humans have this odd aversion to drinking blood," he grinned. "But you wanted me--wanted my blood--after that, didn't you?"

"Yes," she answered reluctantly. "I mean, I knew I wanted--something--from you. I didn't remember that you'd made me drink from you. I never told anyone about the way it felt just to be near you. I thought something was wrong with me. I didn't know."

"You were craving my blood. It's the natural reaction to the bond," he explained. "And the longer I waited, the greater your need grew. The fact that I was forced into helping the slayer actually worked in my favor. Being physically near me made your want more intense. I was on my way to your room the night I was taken. I knew by that time, you'd practically beg me to take your blood and to give me yours."

"You're a smug bastard, you know that?" she asked, raising her head to look angrily at him.

He laughed softly and cupped his hand around her cheek, "You think you would have fought me, pet? You didn't fight very hard when we were trapped in that house."

"You weren't yourself. I wanted to help you."

"Piffle," he grinned. "You wanted me. Our bond drew you there, brought our bodies together, and our bond drove you to willing exchange our blood. It was true then, and it's true now. And what's more, we're so deep inside each other now, you don't even care that you no longer have any choice but to give yourself to me."

"Yeah? Well, it sounds to me like that goes both ways, buster," she said coldly.

"Absolutely," he nodded. "I'm in this just as hard and deep as you are, which suits me just fine."

"Why? So you can use it against Buffy? Use me to make her squirm whenever you feel like it?"

"Have you not been listening, ducks?" he raised an eyebrow. "I've told you why. I love you."

"That was before you remembered everything."

"Before--and after. I do love you, Willow," he insisted. "And the thought occurs that you've yet to admit you really feel the same way about me."

"What difference does it make? You wanted me. You got me," she huffed.

"Oh, it makes a difference. You love me. I know it. The reason you're so uncertain about your feelings for your wolf is because you know I mean more to you than he ever could have. You thought he was the love of your life, but he isn't. I am."

"Goddess, you're so damned cocky," she mumbled.

"Am I? Or am I just right? Tell me you love me, Willow."

"Wanting and loving are not the same things."

"I never said they were. You feel both for me, don't you? Say the words."

She pushed herself off his lap and stood up, "It's just this bond. That's all."

"The bond makes you mine," he rose and took her by the arms. "You have to give me your heart. Tell me."

"I don't know how I feel--"

"Liar. I'm not going anywhere, Willow. I'll still be working with the blonde bimbo. Still be watching your gorgeous ass. You want me here, don't you?"

"Yes," she admitted, lowering her eyes.

He raised her chin and stared down at her until she trembled slightly and nibbled on her bottom lip.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" he asked huskily.

"Yes," she pleaded softly.

His mouth took hers, sending sparks shooting from behind her closed eyelids as their tongues met and lingered over one another's.

"Give me your heart," he said and pulled her body flush against his. "Tell me."

"I love you," she whispered as her hands pressed against his back, drawing him closer to her.

He moaned happily and engulfed her small body in his arms.


"The car was a rental," Buffy said. "Hired by John Smith."

"Very original," Willow replied.

"I think the rental company was more interested in money than identity," the slayer nodded. "But he was wearing a UC Sunnydale jacket, so he could be a student or a member of the faculty. And I went back to that house and had a look around. I found this."

She picked up a small vial of clear liquid from Giles' coffee table.

"What is it?" Spike asked.

"It's a mind-altering substance," Giles explained. "It suppresses violent tendencies. Given enough injections over an extended period of time, the results are irreversible. It targets the memory first, modifying the more negative elements of past events. They obviously hadn't had time to give you much of it."

"I take it your memory has returned?" Buffy asked the vampire.

"In all its bloody glory," he smirked.

The slayer rolled her eyes. "Good. Then you can stop pawing my best friend."

"Not on your miserable life," he refused, putting his arm around Willow's shoulders. "She belongs to me."

"She's going to belong to a pile of ashes when I'm through with you," Buffy vowed and pulled a stake from her pocket. "Shall we take this outside?"

"Buffy," Giles grabbed the stake from her hand. "You can't do that. Not now."

"Later, then," she shrugged.

"Not ever," he told her.

"Whose side are you on?" she snapped.

"Willow's," he answered. "Their bond--"

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled. "I've heard it before. There won't be any bond once I've dusted him."

"Oh, yes, there will," Spike contradicted her.

She looked from the vampire to the watcher, "What is he talking about?"

"You've been exchanging blood daily, haven't you?" Giles asked Spike.

"Several times a day, as a matter of fact," he nodded, knowing the man would understand the ramifications.

"So what?" Buffy asked.

"If you destroy Spike now, you'll condemn Willow to existing with only half a life. If he dies, he'll take the other half with him. And it won't be a condition she'll get over and move past. She'll languish in misery for the rest of her life. They need each other--literally--now."

"Are you saying she's got to drink his blood for the rest of her life?" Buffy gasped.

"And give him hers," he nodded.

"It isn't so bad, Buffy," Willow tried to soothe the horrified slayer. "It isn't painful. And the most incredible feeling of peace comes over me after I've--well, you know. And I love him."

Spike chuckled when Buffy looked as though she might choke on Willow's declaration.

"No, really," the redhead continued. "My mind, my heart, my soul--everything--just wants to be with him."

"That's the damned bond!" Buffy argued.

"The bond is what started it, but that doesn't even matter to me anymore. I do love him. Please believe me."

"If it makes you feel any better, I love her, too," Spike's eyes glimmered with unconcealed amusement at the slayer's dismay.

"Oh, well, that's just peachy then," she growled.

"And if you're a good little slayer, I may even let you resoul her after I turn her, one day."

"Let me?" she shouted. "Let me?!? Listen, you leather-enshrouded corpse; you're working with us, now--no choice--remember? So, you damn well better believe we're going to resoul her when you--oh, hell, what am I saying?"

Spike laughed out loud and pulled Willow in front of him, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her head, "I think we just got the slayer's version of a blessing, luv."

"I hate you," Buffy hissed.

"I know," he replied gleefully. "Look on the bright side, though. It'll be years before I make Willow my childe. With any luck at all, you'll be dead by then."

"In the meantime," Giles broke in before Buffy could hurl a poisoned retort back at the vampire, "we need to focus on the men who drugged you."

Reluctantly, Buffy tore her eyes away from Spike and looked at the watcher.

"Are they going after vampires in general?" he wondered.

"There hasn't been any shortage of them on patrol," she told him.

"Spike, then, for some reason."

"Maybe they're using one of the labs on campus to mix the drug. I can check to see who's been signing in regularly," Buffy suggested.

"It's a start. Best to stick together, though," Giles nodded as his gaze drifted to the redhead. "It wouldn't do to have them capture Spike again."

Buffy smiled softly as her compassionate eyes met Willow's, "No. I suppose it wouldn't."


"I talked to one of the TA's," Willow said as they stood outside the lab. "He said these two guys have been in here a lot. He practically had to kick them out, some nights."

She handed Buffy a paper on which she had written two names.

"It's been a couple of weeks since they were here, though" she continued. "When they left, the TA discovered some chemicals were missing, and they haven't been back since."

The slayer nodded and shoved the paper in her pocket, "Okay, let's track them down and ask them a few questions."

"If they're students, they must be in the university computers. Let's go back to the dorm, and I'll see if I can pull them up," Willow suggested.


"Got 'em," Willow grinned and began to print out the information on the monitor.

Buffy grabbed the papers from the printer, quickly scanned them for an address, and headed for the door. Spike turned back as Willow's hand pulled on his arm.

"Spike," she said softly.

He looked back at the slayer, "We'll be out in a few minutes."

She sighed and opened the door, "I'll go call Xander and tell him to meet us. Just--be quick about it, will you?"

Spike drew Willow over to the bed, and her hands found his and pulled him down beside her.

"Spike, I--"

"I know," he smiled softly.

Their lips met, and he laid her back on the mattress as his fingers made quick work of the buttons on her shirt. She arched into him as he bit into her neck, and his hand moved under her skirt to rub along her slit. She raised her hips as he tore off her panties and thrust a finger into her wet heat. He withdrew his fangs, and she nuzzled against his throat, impatient for his blood. He raised himself up and quickly released his hard shaft from his pants before opening a gash on the familiar place on his neck.

He drew her up slightly, and her mouth brushed over the wound. Spike closed his eyes as her tongue lapped hungrily over his skin, and he slid into her. She mewled softly as he held her head in one hand and teased her clit with the other. Her need for his blood temporarily sated, she moved her mouth up to his, and he ran his tongue over her lips before slipping it into her mouth. Spike groaned and pumped into her as he neared his climax. He slammed into her, and she cried out as her orgasm met his.

He remained still inside her, and his lips brushed over her eyelashes as he held her close and whispered softly to her. He waited until her clear eyes met his before pulling out of her and helping her up off the bed. He fastened his jeans and chuckled softly as Willow went to the dresser and quickly tugged on a pair of fresh panties.

"I don't know why you bother, pet," he told her.

She blushed and smoothed her clothes, "Because I'm not walking around campus like--like-- that."

He grinned and pulled her into a kiss before taking her hand and leading her to the door.


"When they listed themselves as living off campus, they weren't kidding," Buffy said as she looked at the run-down brick house across the street. "This barely classifies as living, period."

"It doesn't look like anyone's here," Willow said as she looked at the darkened windows.

Xander rubbed his hands together and grinned, "Anyone for a little breaking and entering?"

"No," Buffy stopped him as he stepped toward the street.

She took his arm and pulled him back into the shadows as a van rounded the corner and stopped alongside the opposite curb. She waited until a man climbed out of the vehicle and slammed the door shut before she headed toward him.

"Jordan?" she spoke.

The man whirled around and looked at her in surprise, "Do I know you?"

"The question is, do you know me?" Spike said as the trio appeared behind the slayer.

"Shit," the man grumbled and looked frantically over at the van.

"You'll never make it," Buffy warned him.

She blocked the fist that suddenly came at her and shoved him backward. Willow's eyes flew to the van as its engine started. The door slid open, and four men jumped out. One remained beside the van as the other three raced toward them. One of them lunged at Buffy, slamming her back into Xander. They landed on the ground, and Buffy groaned in pain as their attacker kicked her in the ribs. Xander rolled out from under her, and the man grabbed him by the collar, dragged him to his feet, and hurled him into the side of the brick house.

Spike slammed his fist into the second assailant's jaw. The man staggered backward, regained his footing, and barreled into the vampire. Spike, momentarily distracted by Willow's sudden squeal, landed on his ass. He shoved the man off of him and leapt to his feet.

Willow was struggling to escape from Jordan and two men who were dragging her into the van. The one who had remained beside the open door reached quickly inside the van and pulled out a weapon. A growl of pain rumbled from Spike's chest as something sharp ripped into his right shoulder. The man on the ground tried to kick the vampire's legs out from under him, and Spike angrily lifted him by the throat and crushed his windpipe.

"Willow!" Spike's anguished roar split the night air.

The man who had hauled the slayer up off the ground jammed his knee into her stomach and turned to flee toward the van. Buffy sank to her knees, clutching her wounded ribs, and fought for breath. She looked up to see the door on the van slam shut as the vehicle tore away amidst the squeal of tires.

"Spike," the word rasped from her throat as she willed herself up and forced herself to move to his side.

The vampire stood gripping the arrow he had yanked out of his shoulder, mindless of the blood spreading over his shirt, as he stared after the speeding van. Xander groaned from behind them and staggered to his feet, brushing away a trickle of blood above his eye.

"Willow?" he asked as he stumbled over to Buffy.

"Oh, God," the slayer whispered around the painful lump in her throat and placed her hand on Spike's arm. "We'll get her back. They won't kill her. It's you they're after."

He shook her hand off of him, blinking back bloody tears, "Damn you, slayer. I should have known better than to do this your way."

"Spike--"

He whirled around with an angry snarl, amber eyes gleaming murderously, "They're mine. They're dead."


Willow's eyes snapped open. She squinted against the harsh light and turned her head to gaze around the unfamiliar room. She tried to sit up, only to discover she was strapped firmly to the narrow bed. Two wide leather bands were wrapped around her body, one just below her chest, the other over her ankles, and her wrists were shackled to either side of the cot by two more leather manacles.

It suddenly occurred to her that she was wearing a grey jumpsuit, and she shuddered as she realized it was not what she had been wearing earlier, nor could she remember having put it on herself. She licked her dry lips and fought the wave of hysteria that threatened to wash over her. She had no idea how long she'd been out, how long she had been in this place, but her entire body ached with the need for her mate's blood.

From somewhere across the room, a door quietly opened and closed again, and seconds later, tall hooded man appeared at her bedside. He stared down at her a moment, then reached for a glass on the metal table beside her.

"Thirsty?" he asked. "Would you like a drink?"

His voice was kind in its softness, but Willow looked at the clear liquid with distrust.

"It's only water," he assured her.

She nodded slightly, and he supported her head with his hand, raising it so she could take several sips of the cool water. She closed her eyes as he lowered her head back down onto the pillow.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm sorry we had to do it this way. I'm sorry we frightened you."

"What is it you want?"

"The vampire."

"You know Spike?" she asked.

"Of him," he nodded. "I've met him only once, but he wouldn't remember it. He was unconscious at the time."

"You drugged him," her accusing eyes glared up at him.

"Yes," he nodded again, his gentle gaze never wavering from hers.

"Let me go," she hated the words as they drifted from her lips.

"I can't. We need you. He'll come after you."

A small smile formed on her lips, "Believe me. You don't want that to happen."

"Whatever he's planning to do, it won't work," he said confidently.

"Don't bet on it," she warned him.

"It's rare for a vampire to fall in love with a human," he noted.

"He's a rare man."

"He isn't a man; he's a demon," her captor's voice was suddenly tinged with bitter hatred, which he quickly brought under control. "Rest now. I'll come back later. I promise; you're safe here."

She waited until she heard the door close behind him before whispering, "You're not."


The blonde vampire was pacing the floor, jaws clenched, angry eyes glaring ahead of him.

"Spike, sit down," Buffy spoke from an armchair. "You're treading a hole in Giles' rug."

"Screw the damned rug. I want her back. Now," he growled through his teeth.

"I know that. Don't you think we all want her back? You can't go looking for her in broad daylight."

He kicked the coffee table, and Buffy reached out to steady it as it threatened to topple over. Spike threw himself onto the sofa and scrubbed his fingers through his hair.

"She needs me. I can feel it. It's been hours," he moaned before jumping back onto his feet. "Where the hell did they take her?"

"You'll find her. The same way she found you," Giles said from the kitchen entryway. "That's why they took her, after all. They knew you'd come after her."

"Why Spike, though? If they just want to stick needles into him, wouldn't any vampire do?" Buffy asked.

"That, I don't know," he admitted. "But I have a couple of friends at the university. I asked them to do some discreet checking. The two young men whose names you discovered aren't the only ones involved. There are six others. All local lads. They all graduated from Sunnydale High four years ago."

"Why didn't they run screaming from the Hellmouth at the first chance?" she wondered.

"Apparently, they had a different agenda," he answered.

"I'm going to make another sweep of the town. Think you can stand being left here alone with him?" Buffy asked, letting her eyes wander over to Spike, who had resumed his impatient pacing.

"I'll manage," he nodded.


Buffy returned to Giles' house just as the sun was setting and nearly ran into Spike as she came through the front door.

"Did you find anything?" the watcher asked.

She shook her head, "Wherever they are, they're well-hidden. Spike, can you feel Willow? Is she drawing you to her?"

"She's the only thing I _can_ feel," he answered gruffly and stepped around her.

"Wait a minute! Don't you think we ought to come up with a plan before we--"

"Oh, I've got a plan," he assured her. "Find the sods. Rip their heads off. Bring Willow home."

Buffy looked over at Giles as the vampire pushed past her.

"It is a plan," the man conceded.

She sighed and called after Spike, "You aren't doing this alone, you know!"

"Then you'd bloody well better keep up," he snapped back at her from over his shoulder.


Willow moaned softly and tried in vain to raise her hands to her pounding head. He was nearer, much nearer. Everything inside her screamed out to him. The only thing that prevented her vocal cords from following suit was the knowledge that to do so would mean giving his proximity away.

The man who had been there earlier had quietly returned after she'd lapsed back into sleep. Unseen from his position in the far corner of the room, his hands gripped the arms of his chair as he watched the little redhead's body suddenly tense. The chair squeaked softly as he pushed himself up and wordlessly left the room. Willow squeezed her eyes shut as she realized she'd been observed, that whoever had been in the corner knew what she knew. Spike was close. Very close.


"Locked," Buffy announced as she tugged on the latch of the solid metal door.

"Think so?" Spike replied and shoved her out of his way.

He curled his hands around the latch and pulled the door off its hinges.

"So much for the element of surprise," she mumbled and hurried to catch up with him as he stomped down the cold corridor.

The hallway branched off in two directions, and the vampire hesitated only briefly before turning to the right. A hooded figure stepped around the corner ahead of them and raised a pistol as he quickly advanced on them. Spike reached out and grabbed the man's hand and slammed it into the wall. The gun fell to the floor, and the man groaned as the bones in his hand crumbled.

"Spike! Don't kill--"

Buffy's shout was lost in Spike's angry snarl as his fangs descended, and he bit savagely into the stranger's throat.

"Oops. Too late," he smirked, dropping the corpse and wiping the blood from his mouth with his sleeve.

"We're never going to--" she sighed as he ignored her and continued on down the hall, and she ran to join him. "We're never going to get any answers if you kill all of them."

"You want answers? Find them yourself. I want Willow," he snapped.

He stopped suddenly, and Buffy grunted as she plowed into his back. His gaze fastened on a door at the end of the hallway.

"Is it Willow? Is she in there?" Buffy asked.

The door opened, and three men stepped out of the room, blocking their entrance.

"She's in there," one of them answered the slayer's question. "And she can leave here--unharmed. All we want is him."

"She's leaving, all right. With me," Spike informed him.

"I don't think so," he shook his head and turned his eyes on Buffy. "I have to admit; I'm disappointed you're helping him. The slayer of all people."

"I don't have to justify my actions to you," she snapped. "I don't know how you know so much about me or Spike, but--"

"I don't really give a damn," Spike spat impatiently and glared from the slayer to the three men in front of them. "You can either get out of my way, or I can do it for you."

The men exchanged a quick look, closed ranks, and moved toward him. Spike snarled as one of them raised a dart gun. The vampire reached around for the slayer and shoved her forward as the man pulled the trigger, releasing one of two darts. It embedded itself in Buffy's neck, and she fell to her knees as Spike kicked the rifle out of his hand and threw him into the other two men, sending all three of them crashing into the wall. He picked up the first and heaved him across the hallway.

The second, who was trying to crawl toward the rifle found himself suddenly being lifted off the ground by one cold, powerful hand. Spike slammed the man up against the wall and curled his other hand around his chin. The man wailed pitifully as the bones in his jaw snapped with a sickening crunch. The amber eyes of the vampire's demon glared hatefully at his writhing victim.

"Bastard," the third man's voice hissed from behind Spike.

Without so much as turning his head, the vampire's arm shot out, and he backhanded the man behind him before sinking his fangs into the man against the wall in front of him.

"Spike," Buffy's weakened voice cried out as she pulled herself up onto her feet. "Don't kill them. They're human."

"Define 'human,'" he smirked cruelly and reached down and scooped up the dart gun.

He turned as the man he had thrown across the hall stumbled toward his partner. The vampire raised the rifle, its barrel trained between the eyes of the man who had spoken to Buffy and him a few minutes earlier.

"You're either the leader of this sorry lot, or you just have the biggest mouth," Spike sneered. "Wonder what this stuff does if it's injected straight into the brain."

The two men stared at the vampire and backed into the wall behind them. Meanwhile, Buffy had managed to make her way to Spike's side.

"You can't do this, Spike," she told him, her speech slurred slightly as the drug raced through her system. "You can't--"

He rolled his eyes and cuffed her with the back of his hand, "Shut up, Slayer."

"Owww," she whined and raised her palm to her bleeding mouth. "That hurt!"

Spike grinned in amusement and returned his eyes to the men across from him.

"Don't do this," the leader pleaded. "We'll give you the girl. We won't bother either of you again."

"You got that right," he agreed and pulled the trigger.

The dart sunk into the man's forehead, and he screamed as his body slid bonelessly down the wall. His partner turned a sickly shade of green and stared at the vampire in horrified silence.

"I'm only guessing here," Spike smiled amiably at him. "But I'd say his condition is more permanent than mine was."

The man choked back a sob and slunk along the wall in a desperate attempt to escape the murderous vampire.

"I could let you go," Spike considered, closing the distance between them in two long strides.

He looked up at the vampire, his entire body trembling, and licked his lips nervously.

"Or not," Spike said, flipping the rifle around and slamming the stock into the man's face.

He knelt over his prone body, grabbed the man's hair through the thick hood, and snapped his neck. The leader was moaning softly, his back propped against the wall where he had fallen, and Spike returned to him, dragging him up onto his feet.

"If I weren't in such a hurry to get to my mate, I'd take my time with you. Make your death slow and painful," he said, his voice low and angry. "As it is, all I really want is Willow. So--"

The air in the man's lungs gurgled up through his throat as Spike shoved his head back against the wall and severed his jugular with one swift bite. He dropped the lifeless body and turned toward the closed door.

"That was just--mean," Buffy objected as Spike kicked open the door and left her in the hallway.

"Spike," Willow moaned softly as she felt the leather shackles on her wrists being ripped free.

"Yeah, baby. I'm here," he answered.

"No," she shook her head as Spike quickly tore away the bands that were holding her down. "They know you're coming. You have to--"

"I took care of them," he told her as he tucked his arms under her and lifted her up off the cot.

She burrowed her head against his chest as he carried her out of the room. Buffy's glazed eyes watched as he strode past her. He reached the end of the corridor and turned around as he realized she wasn't following.

"What the bloody hell are you waiting for?" he shouted at her.

"We can't just leave them here like this!" she protested. "What are their friends going to think when they get here and--"

"Who gives a damn?" he snarled.

"I do! They'll be all sad and--"

"Stupid bitch," he scowled. "I'm getting Willow out of here. Now."

"Willow," she cried out and focused her gaze on the redhead in his arms. "Is she okay? Did they hurt her? Will, are you--"

"What's wrong with her?" Willow asked Spike.

"She's on drugs," he grinned.

Willow laughed softly and called out, "Buffy, get your ass over here. I want to go home."

"Okay, geez," Buffy mumbled. "You don't have to be rude about it."


"Buffy, drink this," Giles prompted, handing the slayer a mug of black coffee.

"Thank you," she smiled and took it from him. "He really made a mess back there you know. Didn't even offer to stay and clean it up."

Giles sighed and looked over at Xander.

"Still, Willow's back now," she consoled herself and glanced toward the hallway. "Wonder what they're doing in there."

"Personally, I don't want to know," Xander mumbled.

"He loves her, you know," she continued happily. "Yup, Spike loves Willow, and Willow loves Spike. Who could blame her, though?"

Xander shook his head in disbelief.

"I'm serious!" she insisted. "I mean, that voice, those eyes, that ass, how could she resist?"

"Buffy," Giles said softly.

She looked up at him, "Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"Oh," she looked down into the steaming mug for a moment before saying thoughtfully, "Giles?"

"What is it?" he asked gently, thinking perhaps her senses were slowly returning, at last.

"Got any Oreos to go with this?"


Spike leaned against the headboard of the bed and wrapped his arm around Willow, pulling her close as she licked the last traces of blood from the wound on his neck.

"Better, luv?" he asked.

"Almost," she answered softly.

He smiled and drew her lips to his as her hands fumbled with the buckle on his belt. He pushed them away and pulled down the zipper that ran along the front of her grey jumpsuit. He pulled the fabric aside, his eyes moving over her soft, pale flesh

"They didn't hurt me," she told him, reading his thoughts. "One of them was almost nice to me. I could have liked him."

His eyes flared angrily, "Taking you away from me didn't hurt?"

She put her hand on his cheek, "Of course it did. It was supposed to. They knew you'd come after me. I prayed you would. Being separated from you is agony, Spike."

He nuzzled her palm and lowered his mouth to hers, tracing the outline of her lips with his tongue for a moment before indulging in the sweet warmth of her mouth. He slid down on the bed, pulling her with him and rolling her gently under him to press the length of his body over hers. He moaned softly into her mouth as she sucked lazily on his tongue.

"I love you," she whispered easily. "So much."

He peeled the loose garment off of her, kissing her shoulders and neck, and she lifted herself up to allow him to slide the jumpsuit off her body. He raised himself long enough to shed his own clothes before moving back down to claim one soft, rosy nipple. Willow murmured her pleasure, and he parted her legs with his knee. She arched into him as he slid into her heat and lay still for a moment, enjoying the sensation of her walls embracing his shaft.

"Spike," she pleaded, gripping his ass with her hands and grinding against him. "Don't go slow. I need you."

He smiled down at her before taking her lips in a hard, hungry kiss. He thrust into her with deep, quick strokes, and her body responded immediately. Her blunt teeth grazed the small wound on his neck, nipping carefully, until a thin rivulet began to flow. She suckled at it as the tightness in her womb started to build.

Sensing her impending climax, Spike's experienced fingers toyed with her clit, and her head dropped back against the pillow as she keened softly under him. He lowered his head to his marks on her neck and drank as he felt her walls tightening around him. He exploded inside her, snarling her name, and Willow's body surrendered to her mate's. She cried out his name as his cool seed bathed her hot core, and he placed calming kisses along her eyelids and cheeks as her body slowly relaxed.

He lowered himself to the bed, and her arms slid around him, clinging to his hard body as she rested her head against his chest. He stroked her hair softly, then placed his hand against her cheek to brush his thumb over her skin with a gentle thumb. She sighed in contentment and tilted her head to look up at him.

"All better now," she whispered.

"For awhile," he grinned.

"Smug bastard," she laughed softly. "Will I ever get enough of you?"

"Nope."

"Good," she smiled and ventured another peek at him. "Will you ever get enough of me?"

He shook his head and placed a kiss on her forehead, "Never, baby."

Reassured, she snuggled into his arms and drifted to sleep under his soft caresses.


""They've been in there for ages," Buffy muttered, shooting another glance toward the hallway. "What the hell could they possibly be doing? And I didn't just ask that question. Didn't even think it. Definitely don't want to talk about it."

"That's the first sensible thing you've said in two hours," Giles pointed out and dropped down onto the sofa.

"Hey, guys," Willow's soft voice caught their attention as she and Spike appeared at the end of the hall.

Buffy's eyes settled on the small wounds on the redhead's throat, an instinctive reflex she wondered if she'd ever be able to control

"How are you feeling?" Willow asked in an attempt to draw the slayer's attention away from Spike's marks.

"Much better," Buffy nodded. "I should be asking you that question, though."

She shook her head, "They didn't hurt me, other than the misery of being separated from Spike."

The slayer looked over at Giles, "Isn't there some way to break this bond? A spell or a curse or something?"

"No," he answered. "It really is permanent, Buffy--"

"I don't want it broken," Willow told them. "Even if you could, I wouldn't want that."

"You like having him attached to your neck?" Buffy asked incredulously.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do."

"You wouldn't have said that before," the slayer asserted.

"This isn't before. It's now," Willow shrugged.

"But--"

"Buffy," Giles stopped her. "It doesn't matter, anyway. They're bound to each other, whether you like it or not."

"Were you able to find out who those men were?" Willow asked the watcher. "Why were they so determined to go after Spike?"

"It took a fair bit of prodding, and my source at the university wouldn't explain how he knew, but yes, I did get some answers."

The redhead took Spike's hand and led him around to an armchair. He sat down, pulling her onto his lap.

"Tell us," Willow requested.

"The young men in the group all grew up in Sunnydale," Giles began. "Apparently, not everyone here pulls their window shades at night and turns a blind eye to what goes on in this town. But I suppose that would have been pretty difficult, even if they'd wanted to. When he was in high school, the leader of the group--Jordan--found his girlfriend lying dead in an alley with her throat ripped out. She was just sixteen years old. She'd been drained and discarded like so much garbage."

"Sixteen? That must have been years ago," Buffy said.

Giles nodded, "That isn't the kind of memory time would tend to erase, though, is it? The chap at the university said Jordan and his friends were intelligent young men. They knew they couldn't possibly fight Sunnydale's vampires with brute strength. So, they decided to find another method."

"A drug that suppresses violent tendencies," Buffy murmured, recalling Giles' explanation.

"Exactly," he nodded. "And given enough time, just the thought of biting into a human would become abhorrent to the vampire. He'd literally starve himself to death before he'd inflict that on anyone. The only problem was that they hadn't perfected the drug. It took too long for the effects to become permanent. They were determined to get it right, though, which is why they wanted Spike.

"They honestly thought their little group could destroy all the vampires in Sunnydale?" the slayer asked. "Even if they had perfected the drug, the vamps would have hunted them down and killed them before they ever--"

"There are more of them than you know," he told her. "Jordan's lot broke away from the main group, but--"

"Main group?" she interrupted him. "How many of them are there?"

"Dozens," he answered. "But Jordan's group had a disagreement, of sorts, with the others. Jordan felt the main group was moving too slow, and the main group wouldn't sanction Jordan's experiments. They felt it would take too much time and attention away from their own. When Jordan and his partners couldn't convince them that their idea would work, they set out to prove them wrong."

"But why Spike? Why not just go after another vampire to use as their guinea pig?" Xander asked.

"He's a Master vampire. Imagine what the main group's reaction would have been when Jordan told them they had effectively altered Spike's mind--permanently. They couldn't possibly have ignored results like that."

"Okay, so what about this main group? Are they still together?" Buffy asked.

"The man I spoke with wouldn't say, one way or the other. Which I took to mean yes," Giles answered.

"Is Willow still in danger?" Xander wanted to know.

"I don't think so," the watcher shook his head. "He seemed truly horrified to learn what Jordan's group had done. He said the main group would be appalled to learn a human being had been endangered."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'd like to track down this group and find out exactly what they're up to," Buffy decided.

"There will be time enough for that later, best to let it go for awhile," Giles advised and looked

sympathetically at Willow. "These two have been through a hell of an ordeal. Let's let things return to normal for now, and give them a chance to adjust to their new--situation."

"What about classes, Will? You aren't giving them up, are you?"

"No," the redhead answered. "But I'm afraid you're going to have to find a new roommate. I'm moving in with Spike."

"That's a little extreme, isn't it?" Buffy argued.

"Yeah," Xander agreed with a sly grin. "Can't he just drop by your dorm room every now and then for a quick suck and f--"

Buffy gasped loudly and clapped a hand over his mouth, "On second thought, maybe moving out is a better idea. I mean, we'll still see each other all the time, and if he tries to hurt you--"

Spike rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed, "I have no intention of hurting her."

"Good," she snapped. "Because I'd stake your dead ass."

"Has anyone else noticed," Xander spoke, breaking the tension that had suddenly descended on the room, "that Buffy seems to have developed a fixation for Spike's ass?"

Willow laughed out loud at the slayer's furious blush, "She has? Since when?"

"Since earlier, when the two of you were back there, doing--whatever it is that you do--which, frankly, I'm just as happy not knowing about. Let's see; I think her exact words were--"

"Xander!" Buffy shouted and pushed him toward the door. "You're walking me home. Now."

Giles looked on in amusement as Spike and Willow exchanged a curious look. She scrambled off his lap, and he grabbed her hand as they bolted after them.

"Wait up!" Willow's voice drifted back through the open door. "I want to know what she said about Spike's ass!"

The End

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