A Very Ordinary Evil

Part 24 Not Much of a Stretch


The following day


Spike rolled out of bed just before sunset. He ached from the previous day’s exertions. He felt as if he had muscle knots where he didn’t even realise he had muscles. He groggily got to his feet and staggered into the kitchen. He blinked and looked around. The place was a mess. Then memories of the previous night, after the punishment session, began to appear. He had been unaware of all the uses to which a spatula could be put. Chuckling to himself, he wondered how his lover would cope when she woke.

He pottered around the kitchen, casually tidying and preparing some blood. In the back of his mind, the concept of the Big Bad pottering was vaguely disturbing, but he was too relaxed, too happy to really care. As the microwave chimed, he removed the cup and sipped, his mind wandering. He started the coffee machine so that Willow would not have to. After all, he reasoned, she was going to be decidedly sorer than he.

* * * *

Willow woke, and the first thing she noticed was that, unusually, she was alone in bed. Usually, she woke before Spike. The next thing she noticed, as she rolled languidly from her side to her back, was a vicious burning sensation all over her bottom. As she completed the roll, and her backside took her full weight, she shot straight up, shrieking. “Jesus fucking Christ!” In her pain, all thoughts of the goddess had gone from her head and she was digging into the curses that she had heard as a youngster at school. She walked toward the dressing mirror and began to try and look at her butt, certain that it must have been flayed.

Spike walked in to see Willow craning around and trying to work out what had actually happened to her previously tender buttocks. “Red, I love you dearly, but you look more than a little … silly like that. Can I take a polaroid?”

“If you even think about that again, Spike, all that beautiful blond hair will somehow fall out, overnight.”

Spike chuckled. “There’s my girl. Damn I love you pet. Hold on and relax, I’ll get a hand mirror for you love.” Spike grabbed the vanity mirror from Willow’s dresser and held it so that it reflected her naked bottom into the main mirror.

“Oh my!” was the little redhead’s first articulation at the sight of the redness and welting still present from the previous night’s spanking and the later, straightforwardly kinky, session. Spike had done things with kitchen implements that would have made Martha Stewart faint, has she known of it, Willow recalled. As she began softly tracing her fingers along some of the raised welts, she gasped. The gentle, tender touches she was applying had the opposite effect to that of her weight pressing down. Rather than simply burning and hurting, it felt … good, arousing. Spike’s fingers joined hers and, automatically, the witch pressed back into his hand, already beginning to moan softly.

Spike began to softly kiss her neck, one hand teasing her welts while the other ran over her flat, and surprisingly muscular, tummy. Moaning softly, his hands slid down, to the edge of the small auburn matt of curls. He had just begun tickling the curls when the telephone rang. “Bloody Hell!” Spike screamed. “If Bell wasn’t dead, I’d kill him!”

Willow laughed and moved to answer the phone. “Hello?”

She heard Giles’ voice, tinny through the receiver. “Willow? Is that you?”

“No Giles, it’s Elizabeth Taylor. Who do you think?”

“You’ve been associating with that bloody vampire far too much. Anyway, it looks like Ethan has come through with the goods. He wants to meet tonight. Can you get here as soon as possible?”

“Sure! We need to try and get this mess resolved. I don’t like the idea that the Order will have yet another go at us. We’ll be there.”

She turned and looked at Spike. “We’re going to have to go to Giles’. Apparently Rayne has some information on the new contact for the Order.”

“Good. Now luv, how’re you going to handle sitting? Your bum’s still going to hurt.”

Willow blushed in response. “Th-they’ll all know, won’t they.”

Spike grinned, almost malevolently. “Most of ‘em pet. Ripper and the demon chick for sure.”

“Goddess! I canossiossibly go! What’ll they think of me?”

“Actually, pet, you will go. You entered this lifestyle voluntarily. Now, if you start to let it take over your whole life, the submissive aspects of your personality will eventually bind and limit you. You’ll hide from the world taking refuge in your submission. Are you more than your submission Willow?” The question came at her fast and unexpectedly.

“Of course I am!” Willow’s offended reaction spoke volumes as Spike sat back and waited for her to make the connection. Willow sighed, looked at Spike and poutily threw a cushion at him. She grinned wryly and walked towards him, her hips swinging sensually, seductively. Gracefully, she allowed herself to sink to her knees and she grinned again as she looked up at Spike. “It shall be as you instruct, O great and Glorious Leader,” she commented cheekily as she lowered her head to his feet. As her lips touched his toe, in what appeared until that moment to be a playful but genuine act of homage, she bit Spike’s little toe. Hard.

“Owwwwwwwww!” Spike jerked his foot back in reaction. “Bloody hell pet! What was that for?”

“You were beginning to look a little too smug about that spanking.” Willow was blushing as she looked up at him from her position, kneeling at his feet.

Spike also saw, heard and scented the sudden surge of her arousal. He could see the light flush in her cheeks, hear her increased respiration, see her lips, slightly parted and moist as her tongue licked occasionally over them. He was aware that Willow was trying to initiate play, in such a way as to keep them from the gathering. “Pet, you’re looking for some more punishment, aren’t you. Not severe but just enough, am I right?” The little redhead blushed uncontrollably. She both adored and hated the fact that Spike could see into her so well. She looked up in a mixture of open arousal and mild fear. “Pet, you’ve got your wish, I’ll punish you. I was going to suggest that you wore satin panties to Giles’, it’d have reduced the soreness a little, but now, no panties under your jeans. Understand?”

Willow looked at the blond vampire and nodded, her teeth biting her bottom lip in a strange mixture of chagrin, arousal and annoyance. “Yes Sir,” she muttered as Spike turned to go and dress.

Clambering to her feet a lot less gracefully than she had sunk to the floor, Willow walked off behind her lover, realising that once he had spoken, there was no way around the punishment. As she reached the bedroom, she recalled that she had meant to ask Spike about the … basement. Walking in to get her clothing for the meeting, she raised the subject. She opened the wardrobe to find a loose tee shirt and posed the question. “Spike, how did the … basement get there?”

The blond vampire looked at his lover and grinned. “I had it built when I bought this place luv. The basic layout was already here. I just had the mode of access altered and expanded it a bit. Oh, and full electrics of course.”

“You knew? Even back then?” Willow was shocked, and more than a little scared.

“Course I did luv. Right from the get-go. Even before you told me about your self-harm. I remember the combined fear and arousal you gave off when I kidnapped you. And when I tried to turn you, just after I was chipped, you were high with the thrill of not having control. Course, rationality reasserted itself later and you belted me with a lamp.” Spike smiled gently as he reminisced. The little redhead, watching the emotions play over his face, saw that he actually treasured those memories. That relaxed her and eased away some of the fear.

The striking vampire pulled Willow into a close embrace and looked at her. “Remember my lesson on Dominance? With the canes?” Willow nod all allowing him to continue. “I am what I am. I’m a vampire, a predator. Ergo I need a relationship based on unequal power. In the long run, I can’t be attracted to anyone who can’t provide that. You, my dear heart, are the first person to be able to do that, properly, in the whole of my existence.”

“The first ever?” Willow squawked, shocked.

“Yes Red, the first ever.” Spike smiled, then grinned slightly maliciously. “Red at both ends now, aren’t we pet?” Willow lost the modicum of control she had gained over her blush reflex and instantly turned crimson. “Now, luv, get dressed. We don’t have a lot of time to waste.” Spike watched as the bright red redhead dressed, taking a small but definite delight in the gasp of discomfort she released when she drew her jeans over her hips.

* * * *

Spike opened the door to Giles apartment as he and Willow entered. They looked around the living room, to see Giles, Ethan Rayne and Cordelia already there. As they walked in, greeting everyone, Spike guided his lover to a seat. He flopped back into the vacant lounge and waited for the little redhead to sit beside him. He watched, inwardly amused as Willow sat gingerly, and thrilled at the nearly soundless gasp she emitted as her butt came into contact with the lounge cushion.

“So, just Anya and Chubs to come?” Spike was trying to fill the silences with small talk. In part to ease Willow’s worry that people would notice her soreness, and in part because he did not like the silence, it unnerved him. Not getting an answer, he continued, blithely. “You been okay Huntress? Have a good day?”

Cordelia took a moment to realise that Spike was talking to her. She looked up slowly. “Not too bad, a slow day at work. There were no customers of course and Giles is a bit upset about it being so messy. So am I. I got utterly filthy today.”

Spike nodded, it was hard, trying to keep this group animated. “Well, Ripper, what’s bothering you?” Spike’s inquiry was a little forced, as if he was becoming frustrated.

Giles looked up a little absently. “What? Oh, I’ve been doing some research. It has me a little disturbed. And before anyone asks, no, I’m not happy talking about my tentative conclusions yet.”

Spike’s eyes rolled. He was not getting close to starting a general conversation. He noticed Willow glaring at Ethan Rayne, her eyes harder then he’d ever seen them, other than the glamour spell she had worked a little under a week ago. This, however, was all Willow. It appeared that she was evble ble to overcome the distracting chafing of her jeans, she was that angry. “Giles,” Willow began in a deceptively mild tone of voice. “Do you remember when Spike first joined our little gang?”

“Of course, Willow, why?”

“Well, even though we knew he was harmless, we kept him tied to chairs and chained up in your bathroom. Remember?”

“Er … yes Willow, I do. I was living here, after all.”

“Well, I’m wondering … what gives? After all, your ‘old school tie’ chum there is considerably more dangerous, even with his soul in a jar, than Spike was then. I really think we have some discrimination issues going on here.”

“Pet, it’s all right.” Spike was worried. He’d never seen this side of Willow so blatantly exposed before. He knew the fire, the steel, the passion and the sheer determination was there, as well as a core of ruthlessness that both thrilled and terrified him. At the moment, however, these aspects of her personality also threatened to put her at risk. {As far as I’m concerned, she can gut the tosser and bathe naked in his blood after he tells us what we need to know. Oh Gods! Calm down William. Don’t distract yourself}

The door opened, to reveal Xander and Anya, incidentally also breaking up a potentially explosive situation. “G-man, Junior, Wills, Cordy! Hi one and all.”

“Don’t worry about Xander,” interjected Anya. “He had a heavy day at work and is in Twinkie overload.”

Xander flopped on the remai sea seat, bodily pulling Anya into his lap. “What? If Junior over there can do it, why can’t I?”

Anya gazed at her lover, and pointed out, with all her usual tact and discretion, “Spike has one kind of style, dear; and you have another. Spike can get away with the tough guy stuff. Just be you. If I wanted Spike, I’d have sex with Spike, now wouldn’t I?”

“Er … would I get any say in this?” Spike’s question was jolted out of him in sheer surprise. A level of surprise matched by Xander’s look of sheer astonishment.

Willow, however, looked daggers at Anya. The normally shy redhead growled, very credibly, at the former demon. “Don't even think about trying that for real.” She locked her hand around the blond vampire's arm in a fierce grip--one that said over my dead body.

Giles cleared his throat. “Children, children. It’s time to pay attention.” He lo odd oddly at the petite redhead for a moment, “Willow, stop fidgeting. You’re acting like a fourteen year old.”

“S-s-sorry Giles.” Willow flushed bright red as she stuttered her apology, and was concerned to see Anya looking curiously at her.

“Let’s just get on with it shall we? We’ll deal with Ethan first, and if we think he’s come through, we’ll release his soul, agreed?” Various words or nods signified the agreement of all the others, with the exception of Willow.

“Giles,” Willow shifted as she spoke. “I do not trust this man. I want to cast a Truth spell on him while he talks, and I also want to cast a spell afterwards. It won’t hurt him, I give you my word.”

“Just why do you hate me so much, little girl?” Ethan’s question earned him a vicious glare from Willow and a full-blooded growl from Spike.

“Because you made me dead! I despise you.”

“Er … All right Willow. Fine. Cast your spells.” In response to the look Ethan turned on him Giles simply asked, “Would you rather be a cockroach? In all seriousness, Ethan I’d suggest that you tell us all you know now, rather than annoy Willow any further.”

“I quite take your point, Ripper.” Ethan was beginning to look decidedly uneasy as Willow took two crystals from her bag. She lobbed both at Ethan, intoning two Latin phrases as she did so. There were two discrete subdued flashes of light as both crystals launched the spells stored inside.

“Ethan, what can you tell us about the contact?” Giles suddenly became all business.

Ethan sighed. “It’s likes, Rs, Ripper.” He looked at everyone in turn. “All of you know the contact. It’s some stupid bird you went to school with. Name of …” He paused and took out a notepad. Looking at each face in turn, wincing slightly under Willow's icy glare, he carefully checked his notes before gleefully adding, “Holly Charleston.”

He waited for the cries of disbelief and derision. They came immediately in an instant Tower of Babel. “That’s just not possible!” Cordelia’s voice sliced through the others. “That airheaded little hussy couldn’t organise a raffle in a bingo hall!”

Willow looked shocked, while Xander was simply bemused. Giles just looked over at Willow and asked “Are you sure the spells are working?” She nodded in reply, a little absently, and Giles realised that she was concentrating on the spells to check them.

“Yes, they’re working fine Giles. He’s either telling the truth or he’s running a counterspell.” Giles nodded in response.

“Anya,” Giles asked, “Do you still have the ability to see magic as it’s being worked?”

“I’ve never really tried to use it since I changed, Giles, but I’ll try if you want.”

“Thank you dear, that’s most kind. Would you?”

Anya nodded and let her eyes lose focus as she attempted to use perceptions that she had not bothered accessing since before she had become human. “I’m sorry Giles, but I can’t see anyg, ng, neither of Willow’s spells or if Ethan’s doing anything. I guess I can’t do any of this without spell casting.”

Giles smiled at the former demon. “I am sorry Anya. I know you were hoping something other than your memories remained.”

Anya smiled wanly back, and the group’s attention returned to Ethan. “As I was saying, before I was so coarsely interrupted, the contact is Holly Charleston. She’s an Asian girl, and she works out of a rather tacky nightclub called The Bronze. I don’t know if you need any kind of password or reference to speak with her, busomesomehow rather doubt that will worry you. As for me getting anywhere near her. Well, she took one look at me and feigned nausea because of my age!”

Cordelia laughed. “Oh she hasn’t changed. All the tact of a rabid Rottweiler. So she’s gone from character assassin to real assassin huh. Not much of a stretch if you ask me. And I find her reaction to him,” she gestured contemptuously at Ethan, “totally convincing.”

“Willow, can you detect any dissembling or untruth?” Giles wanted to be as certain as he could be.

“As much as I can be Giles.” Breaking her concentration, Willow stood up and walked over to Ethan. Reaching out, she pulled a few of his hairs out, viciously. “I need these.” Returning to her seat, Willow began a slow, almost hypnotic incantation. Parts were barely audible while others rose to a strange ululating shriek. She was totally immersed in the spell.

Xander looked over to Giles. “What language is that, G-man?”

“It seems to be a mixture, I can hear some Sumerian, some Kadeshite, some Demotic Greek and at least three languages with which I’m unfamiliar. I have no idea what she’s doing.”

“Let’s just hope it works properly then.” Xander still had very little faith in Willow’s magical abilities, despite the growing evidence to the contrary.

Willow’s incantation finished in a malevolent hiss, her eyes appearing totally black as if carapaced like an insect’s. As she returned to a normal state of perception, the blackness flowed away, and she blinked once or twice. Looking at Ethan, she said, in a cold, emotionless voice, “Rayne, I just cursed you. The curse will take effect at sunrise. If yome ome within ten miles of the Sunnydale city boundaries, you will begin to get sick. After an hour, you’ll have severe stomach cramps, after two hours you will be vomiting, after six hours you’ll have bleeding ulcers and after twelve hours you’ll be dead, from apparently natural causes. Is that totally clear? Oh, by the way, the spell is anchored to the city itself, not me, so even if I die, the spell will continue.” Ethan looked profoundly shocked, as did Giles. Willow looked levelly at the Watcher. “I promised not to harm him. I haven’t. All I’ve done is to prevent him ever returning here.”

“If it’s all the same to you, Ripper, I’ll be off now. Just as soon as you release my soul back to me. And of course, there’s the issue of my fee.”

“Bloody Hell!” Giles was annoyed. “Stay there. I have to make a call.” The Watcher stalked, sn, snatching the cordless phone as he went. They could hear bits and pieces of the conversation, presumably with an airline. It wasn’t going well, Spike concluded, as he heard Giles slip into his North London street accent. When he returned to the living room, he looked very angry.

“Right, now listen, Ethan.” The North London accent was very much in evidence. “You fly out of Los Angeles tomorrow afternoon with British Airways, direct to Heathrow. How you get to Los Angeles airport I neither know nor care; now please leave my home and this town.”

Ethan Rayne looked shocked. He had never expected Ripper to be so cold towards him. Nodding slowly, he stood and walked out. No-one watched him go.

As the door shut, everyone began to speak simultaneously. The uproar was deafening. Giles simply unscrewed the lid of the soul jar as he bellowed above the din “QUIET!!!” He looked at the shocked faces all gazing at him and smiled inwardly. “Good,” he resumed in a normal voice, “now that I have your attention, we have two issues left to discuss. First, what to do about this Holly Charleston, and second tomorrow’s meeting with this Doctor McKeon. I propose we deal with meeting Doctor McKeon first.”

“Works for me, Ripper.” Spike spoke up quickly. “Did you find the Webley?”

“Yes, and I cleaned it too. I didn’t have a lot else I could do today.”

Spike smiled, almost apologetically. “I am sorry about the shop, mate. We’ll deal with this daft bint after we see McKeon. First things first though. You’ve got the Webley and I’ve got my sawn-off. That should do for armament, although I’m going to have to remember to take slugs not pellets for it.”

Cordelia and Willow both looked slightly shocked. Neither had heard such light talk about firearms previously. Xander had followed the discussion and volunteered, “I’ve still got that stash of weapons I requisitioned when I was soldier boy, would they help?”

Spike was shocked. “They let you have weapons! Dear god, how on earth did you did you help us win two world wars with policies like that?”

Xander took the bait immediately. “Whaddaya mean, helped?”

Spike grinned and replied maliciously, “Well, as I recall you were rather late arriving for both.”

Willow headed off the argument that was about to develop. “Xander you never paid attention in history anyway, so don’t worry about it. We have more important things to think about than that. And everyone knows the Russians won World War Two anyway.” She looked at Spike and Giles. “What else do we need? Last time you mentioned a tape recorder lover.”

“Yeah. Does anyone have a small dictaphone or something like that?”

“Giles does.” Xander offered. “He and Buffy used it when they saved me from the giant bug lady.”

“Yes! Yes! That’s right. I remember now.” Willow’s sudden excitement caused her to bounce slightly in excitement, and a small gasp of pain escaped her lips.

“Are you all right?” Giles’ solicitous statement terrified Willow.

“F-f-fine. Just a little sore is all. I fell in the kitchen, you know how linoleum floors are. My feet just went out from under me, whoosh!” Willow’s babble began to dry up as she began to see that the inquiry was more one of courtesy than substance.

“Of course. That is still around here somewhere. It’ll need new batteries of course.” Giles began, rather ineffectually, to search his cupboards for the small recorder.

“Why don’t you let me do that,” offered Anya, “while the rest of you work out what you plan on doing.”

Giles face broke into one of his rare but dazzling genuine smiles. “Why, thank you Anya. That’ll be a great help.” Looking back to the others, he continued. “Now, what other precautions will we need?”

“A getaway vehicle, if it becomes necessary.” Cordelia spoke up. “Does anyone here have a decent car?”

“What classifies as ‘decent’ Huntress?” Spike asked the question because he was afraid they would otherwise go around in circles all night.

“Something large, solid and preferably fast.”

“So it’s my DeSoto then, I assume. You feel up to handling her?”
ll dll do what I have to.” Cordelia sounded utterly confident.

“Well, then, that should do it.” Spike sounded relaxed, even calm now that the basic arrangements were in place. “Just remember, Ripper, call him tomorrow around eight and tell him to be at Willie’s, alone, at eleven. You meet him at the door and walk him over. That way we don’t get hassles from drunken demon tossers wanting to pick a fight. So, that’s one of the problems, now for the other.”

“Ah, yes. Holly Charleston.” Giles removed his glasses and pinched at the bridge of his nose, already thinking.

“Why don’t we just grab her as she leaves the Bronze?” Willow asked, thinking that simplicity had merit in this case.

“I have a feeling that she would have bodyguards luv. And I don’t really fancy taking on up to, say, half a dozen armed men and demons. Messy and far too public.”

“Oh. No we don’t want that.”

“What we need,” Xander interjected, “is a way to get one person to talk to her. I’m thinking Cordy.”

Giles looked at Xander. “That has some possibilities.” He seemed vaguely surprised that Xander had come up with such a sensible kernel of an idea. Following his train of thought, he asked, “Cordelia, were you ever friends with this girl?”

“Not really, we would be polite to each other, that’s all.”

“So you had a passing acquaintance?”

“At most, Giles. She and I actually had very little in common, other than superficially.”

“Oh, well. Let’s just kick this around for a while then,” Giles suggested. “Anyone can make any suggestion without fear or favour. We can’t just jump on it, we have to explain why it wouldn’t work.”

“All right then,” Spike spoke up. “Just how do we do this? We need to isolate her from any guards she may have. How about we watch her and count noses. See if she is snatchable. Errrr … kidnappable. The more I think about it, the more sensible it’d be to do some quiet surveillance over a few days, see what her habits are.”

He looked over at Willow. “I know you’re eager to resolve this as quickly as you can, pet, but we’ll probably only get one chance. If the order thinks a contact has been compromised they’ll move to kill the contact.”

Willow looked shocked, and, as she began to think about it, saw the logic of what Spike was saying. She sighed. “I really don’t like either you, or us, being the tt ort or targets of these people. It scares me, the very thought that I could lose you.”

The blond vampire wrapped both his arms around the scared little witch, and kissed her softly. “Luv, they haven’t got us yet, and each time they try, it becomes harder for them too. It’s harder to get another person to undertake the contract, we get more cautious and harder to target. I think we’ve probably got at least a week before there’s another attempt.”

Willow looked up at him, a little nervously. “I guess we better make the most of it then.”

“So,” asked Spike, “Surveillance?”

“Surveillance.” Giles concurred.