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Turning Willow -- by Ruby
Rating: R
Description: Spike finds an appealing way out of having to deal with the slayer.
Note: Warning -- This is not a nice, happy fic. If you're looking for warm fuzzies, don't read this one. Note -- This is my response to Wrayvn's challenge (even though the raven makes only a very brief appearance). This takes place during the 4th season. Oz has moved away from Sunnydale, and he and Willow are no longer together. I proofed this very quickly, so please forgive any mistakes. Dedication -- For Wravyn, I hope this doesn't disappoint.:-)
Disclaimer: Joss owns all.
Spike sat on the park bench, staring into the darkness, and let his thoughts tumble about one another. He had been following the slayer around like an obedient dog for nearly four months now, helping her kill demons when he'd really rather have watched them kill her. Or do it himself. The only thing that kept him playing this damned charade was the little redhead who seemed content to stoop low enough to call the blonde bitch her friend.
The vampire had decided by the second week of his return to Sunnydale that Willow was going to be his, and she'd come to him willingly. He had slowly and carefully been working on her, trying to erase old, frightening memories of him, and biding his time until the right opportunity presented itself. A cold grin curled his lips as he played over that night's events. He'd never expected that Willow's friends would toss that opportunity right at his feet.
They'd researched the latest demon threatening Sunnydale for a full week before the slayer had decided it was time to take action. The fact that Xander had misspelled the demon's name by one letter had meant they had researched the wrong demon. As a result, the information they'd taken with them to battle their opponent had been completely useless, and the slayer had barely managed to destroy the demon before it could take out half of the Hellmouth's mortal population.
Giles and Buffy had been rattled to the core by the near-disaster. The blame had been shifted from its rightful owner--Buffy, who had decided from the onset that she would lead the fight. She had failed to catch Xander's error, but rather than taking the responsibility, they had turned the blame on Willow and Spike, who had spent the most time researching the wrong demon. Buffy had stood in the graveyard, staring down at the dead demon, and angrily insisted that they should have uncovered the mistake. This had been followed by a loud shouting match, until Willow had fled the cemetery in tears. Spike had stormed off in the opposite direction until he was out of sight, then back-tracked to stealthily follow the redhead until she had reached the safety of her dorm.
That had been over an hour ago, and Spike had since found himself a nubile, young blonde who was foolishly walking alone. He had sated both his anger and his hunger by ripping her throat out. Leaving her corpse in an alley, he had walked about aimlessly, his thoughts centered on Willow, until he found himself in front of the bench on which he now sat.
A raven waddling along the dimly-lit sidewalk suddenly squawked and ascended to perch in an overhead branch. Spike's senses returned to hear the sound of soft footsteps approaching from behind him. He turned his head as Willow's scent drifted over his shoulder, and she looked at him listlessly for a moment before stepping around the bench. He slid over a little, and she plunked down next to him.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," he told her quietly, eyeing the tear tracks that still stained her cheeks.
"I'm sorry," she spoke so softly the leaves fluttering above them nearly drowned out her voice. Her apology surprised the vampire, and he looked over at her, but she kept her face averted from him.
"_You're_ sorry?" he asked gently. "That cock-up wasn't your fault, pet."
"Wasn't it? Considering the hours I put into the research, I should have realized something was wrong."
"Why? You researched the name they gave you. And if you're going to blame yourself, you'd better include me in. I stood over your shoulder most of the time," he reminded her.
She shook her head, "I've had more experience at--"
"Listen," he spoke firmly, cupping her chin in his hand and turning her face to him. "If anyone is responsible for what happened tonight, it's the slayer or her watcher or that git, Xander. If he wasn't so damned busy trying to figure out how to bed the blonde bitch, and if she wasn't so busy trying to decide how long to wait before she spreads her legs for him, they'd have concentrated on what they were supposed to be doing in the first place."
"Xander and Buffy?" her brow furled in confusion.
"They aren't--"
"Oh, come on, luv. He spends most of his time trying to look down her shirt, and she spends most of her time bending over to give him a view," he scowled. "You're no more blind than I am."
Choosing to avoid the topic, she looked down at her hands and said, "Still, you're being unfair--"
"And they aren't?" he asked. "You know bloody well that they're the ones who should have caught the mistake. They found the demon's name in the first place. How the hell can you be to blame for researching the name they handed to you?"
"I don't know," she sighed, finally turning her eyes to his. "But you heard what she said in the cemetery."
"I heard someone trying to pass the blame off on someone else--namely, us." He held out a hand and ticked off each point on his fingers, "She took it upon herself to lead this whole fiasco. She brushed aside the watcher's attempts to guide her. She found the name and read it out to Xander. She gave you that name to research--"
"Okay, okay. I get it," Willow responded.
"And she's the one who dumped you into the pot and turned up the heat when she couldn't handle the blame for coming seconds away from a blood bath," he added. "Pet, you shouldn't be apologizing to anybody. You should be ripping her head off her shoulders. I'll hold her down if it'll help. You're not the only one she slung her lame accusations at."
"I know," she nodded. "I feel bad about that. You've been mostly nice to me since you came back here."
"I can hold my own against the slayer," he assured her. "But I'm not too keen on watching her tear into you."
"I think we all need to sleep on it, and cool off. I'll talk to her tomorrow," Willow decided and stood up. "I can let you know how it goes, if you want."
"I want," he answered. "Call me. I'll be awake."
"Xander, I feel terrible about this whole mess," Buffy admitted as he handed her a soda and sat down across from her at the booth in the campus snack shop. "I was so freaked by what almost happened last night, and I took it out on Will."
He placed his hand over hers, "She'll understand that, Buffy."
"I don't know. You heard me; I said some pretty awful things. We should have double-checked that demon's name before we gave it to her. I made it sound like it was all her fault."
"You were blowing off steam. We were all pretty shaky by the time you killed that grease ball. She knows you didn't mean what you said."
"I hope so," the slayer replied. "I've been avoiding her all morning. I feel so guilty. I don't think I can look her in the eye right now."
Xander's gaze drifted to the door as it opened, and Willow stepped inside.
"Buffy, she's here."
"Willow?" she gasped. "Xander, I can't face her yet!"
"She hasn't spotted us. Come on. We'll go out the other door," he suggested.
Willow poked another quarter into the vending machine and turned her head just in time to see the familiar couple scurrying out the door on the other side of the building. She sighed and grabbed the can of soda before leaving the way she had come.
Spike paced the floor in front of the telephone. He was so close to getting what he wanted he could practically reach out and touch it. His sole ambition since being forced into helping the slayer had been trying to find a way to worm out of the arrangement. Over the past couple of months, that ambition had been amended to include Willow. The more he got to know her, the more he was determined to have her. She was everything he had ever wanted Drusilla to be, and a good deal more than the insane vampire ever could be, were her ashes not now blowing around the winds of South America. The little redhead was smart, quick-witted, fiercely loyal, and beautiful. And, the vampire was certain, underneath that fiery hair lay an equally fiery woman. That part of her personality may have been buried under a gentle shyness for the better part of her young life, but Spike knew, with a little coaxing and encouragement, he could help her uncover it.
He'd realized from the first that he'd never be able to squirm free from the slayer on his own without being reduced to a small pile of ashes. He also knew that with Willow by his side, his freedom was certain. The slayer would never be able to bring herself to fight her friend, or to go after him if Willow belonged to him. And she would, he vowed. Even if she hadn't been his ticket out, he still would have wanted her.
Spike stopped pacing as he heard a faint knock on his door. Standing behind it to shield himself from the sun, he opened it to find Willow standing on the other side. She stepped through and turned to him as he quickly closed the door.
"I was going to call, but--" her voice wavered as she lowered her eyes, and Spike knew she'd been crying.
"What happened?" he asked softly. "Did you talk to the slayer?"
She shook her head, and he placed a hand on her elbow and guided her to the sofa. He sat down close to her and waited until she looked at him.
"I saw her on campus with Xander," she began.
"And?" he prodded.
"They both walked the other way."
"Are you sure they saw you?" he asked.
"I'm sure. Xander was trying too hard not to look over his shoulder. Goddess, they must both be furious with me," she said quietly.
"If they are, it's because you're a reminder of how badly they screwed up," he replied, his voice harsh with anger.
"I couldn't sleep last night. I laid awake trying to get things straight in my head," she told him. "I know we're a team, and we're supposed to work together, but honestly, Spike, I can't see how they can lay all the blame on us! We only did what they asked us to do. Why would she think we'd somehow realize Xander had written down the wrong name?"
"Because she's an ass?" Spike suggested.
"I thought she'd realize it wasn't our fault. I mean, I don't even blame Xander. It was all just a huge mistake! I felt like they'd pulled the floor right out from under me when they walked away from me today. It hurt like hell, at first. And then I started to walk over here to talk to you. And the more I walked, the more I thought. And the more I thought, the angrier I got. This is just so--wrong, Spike! I'm not going to take the blame for this just to ease Buffy's guilt!"
"Good for you, pet," he nodded.
"And the way she treats you. I mean, I know we were enemies before, but you've helped us since you came back. I know that's mostly because Buffy would stake you if you didn't, but you have helped. And still, she gets her digs in every chance she gets. That isn't right. You aren't that bad. Okay, maybe you are, but your bad has been helping our good for months. I've never even heard her thank you--not even once--in all the time you've helped us."
"And that surprises you?" he asked, grasping at the last sentence of her lengthy babbling.
"Well, yeah! Why shouldn't it?"
"Willow, I've only heard her thank _you_ once or twice, so why the hell would she thank me at all?" he argued.
"That isn't the same. I know she's grateful for my help."
"Knowing it and hearing are not the same thing, ducks," he told her. "She takes you for granted."
"But that's okay," she insisted. "Friends can do that."
He stared at her, dumbfounded, "They can? Maybe I haven't done the friend bit in a couple of centuries, but as I recall, friends take the trouble to let each other know they matter. Hell, I can admit you matter to me, and I'm not even human."
"I--I do?" she asked, looking at him in surprise.
"Of course you do," he answered casually. "You're the only bright spot on this miserable Hellmouth. I'd have strangled the slayer months ago if you hadn't been around to help release my frustration. Do you think I haven't noticed those subtle words of support you throw out when the slayer starts bitching at me? Do you think I didn't hear all the times you whispered 'thank you' when I helped you out during a fight? I never get that from the rest of them. Not that it would matter if I did, but from you, it matters."
She smiled for the first time in two days, "That's a nice thing to say."
"That's the truth, Willow," he told her. "So, anyway, I guess we're both in agreement that the slayer and her would-be lap dog are a pair of imbeciles."
"I'll agree that they're wrong," she corrected him with a grin. "I really don't want to think about it anymore. It's been swirling around in my brain for so many hours, it's enough to make me scream."
"All right," he agreed. "You up for a suggestion?"
"Sure," she shrugged.
"My car's in the garage where it's nice and dark. How about we go jump in it and take a drive to Eccher's Lake?"
"That's hours away!" she told him.
"Which means it'll be sunset by the time we get there," he nodded.
"But we're supposed to meet at Giles' house tonight."
"I thought you wanted a mental vacation from all of that," he reminded her.
"I do," she sighed. "But they'll be expecting us."
"Exactly. Care to make a point, luv?" He watched her expression as she considered the unavoidable insinuation of just not showing up to meet with the others.
Her eyes returned to his as a smile of satisfaction played across her lips, "Yes. Let's make a point." He chuckled and took her hand, pulling her up onto her feet and leading her out to his car.
Buffy returned with Xander to his apartment after waiting half the night for Willow and Spike to show up at Giles'. She spent another hour trying to phone each of them, and only gave up after Xander took the phone from her and led her unresisting body to his bedroom.
Spike pulled the car into the garage and punched the button that lowered the door as the sun's first rays parted the early-morning clouds. Willow stumbled after him into the house and collapsed on the sofa. She rested her head against the cushions and smiled at the delicious numbness between her legs.
Spike had taken advantage of their quiet conversation along the shore of the deserted lake to craftily turn her loyalties away from the slayer and toward himself. However, that conversation had abruptly ended when Spike's lips had swooped down to taste hers. The kiss had quickly developed into undeniable need, and they soon lost track of the hours as their bodies responded to one another's with amazing perfection.
Now back in his living room, Spike smiled down at the half-asleep redhead and bent down to kiss her slightly-parted lips. Willow sighed and slipped her arms around his neck as he lifted her up and carried her to his bed.
Their slumber was disturbed three hours later by the sound of heavy pounding on the front door. Willow moaned and rolled out of the bed, feeling around in the darkness until her fingers brushed over the shirt Spike had dropped onto a chair. She pulled it on and heard Spike stirring behind her as she slipped out of the room.
Willow yanked open the door, and Buffy marched inside, dragging Xander behind her.
"Where the hell have you been? We waited for you--" the slayer stopped mid-rant as her eyes took in Willow's scantily-clad form. "Oh, gods," she whispered, backing up into Xander.
"What are you doing here?" Xander asked in shocked disbelief.
"We _were_ sleeping," Spike's voice answered from across the room.
"Have you lost your mind?" Buffy shouted at Willow.
Willow stared coldly back at her, "According to some people, I never had much of one to begin with." She turned her back on her stunned friends and went to stand beside Spike. Buffy and Xander glared at the vampire who was dressed in his usual black jeans, and nothing more. He slid his arm around Willow's waist, causing the hem of the shirt she was wearing to ride up, exposing yet more of one shapely thigh.
"Willow, come on. You're leaving with us," Buffy ordered.
"No." The slayer stared at her for a moment before looking worriedly at Xander.
"I mean it, Will," she tried again.
"So do I. No."
"What have you done to her?" Xander demanded of Spike.
"From the smell of the two of you, I should think you'd be able to figure that out for yourselves," he smirked knowingly. Willow looked up at him, "You mean, they were so worried about me that--"
"They spent the night shagging," he finished with a nod.
"No!" Buffy cried out. "It wasn't like that, Willow! We _were_ worried--"
"I don't want to hear it," Willow answered scornfully.
"You blame the two of us for your screw-up so you can race Xander to bed with a clear conscience."
"Will, we need to talk about this," Xander pleaded.
"I don't feel like talking, and I don't know when I will. So get out. Go screw each other, and if I feel like conversing, I'll give you a call," she suggested, growing angrier by the second. "In the meantime, leave us alone. And do your own damned research and your own damned fighting!"
"We have an agreement," Buffy's hissed at Spike.
"_We_ had a friendship!" Willow shouted. "I guess, neither of them means a hell of a lot anymore."
"That isn't true! I wanted to talk to you. I told Xander yesterday that I wanted to apologize," Buffy informed her.
"So you walked the other way when you saw me come into the snack shop? That's a hell of an apology."
"You saw us?" Xander asked grimly.
"I saw you," she nodded.
"That wasn't what it looked like--"
"What is, according to you?" Willow snapped. "You have an excuse for everything, don't you? Why the hell should I listen to you after the things you said in the cemetery? You had excuses then, too, and all of them involved Spike and me!"
"Willow," Spike said softly, clutching her tighter to him. "Take it easy, luv."
She nodded and took a breath to calm her raging emotions.
"You two," the vampire looked over at Buffy and Xander. "Get the hell out."
"And find yourselves another unwilling partner," Willow added much more calmly. "Because until I come back, neither will Spike. Understood?" Buffy held her gaze for a moment before conceding with a silent nod. She took Xander's hand, and they left the house together.
"Think she'll stick to that agreement?" Willow asked Spike.
He pulled her around and into his arms, "I think so, pet."
"You know what I'd really like?" she asked as he swept her up off the floor and headed back to the bedroom.
"Whatever it is, you've got it," he promised.
"I'd like to go away with you," she told him. "I've never seen Texas or Colorado or--"
"Europe?" he asked.
"Europe!" she squealed as he lowered her onto the bed.
"Could we?"
"There's nothing forcing me to stay here, now, is there?" he responded. "Thanks to you."
"Oh, Spike," she smiled as he lowered his body over hers and kissed her softly. "Would you really take me to Europe?"
"Tomorrow night soon enough for you?" he grinned. "But I have to warn you, I may never bring you back." She laughed and caressed his cheek with her hand, "I may never care."
The End
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