Flesh Into Gear

Title: Flesh Into Gear
Author: claudia6913
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Aus/S/W
Summary: Spike and Angelus set off for a new Drusilla…and they find Willow. This story is AU after ‘Becoming Pt 2’,
Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, own none of the characters; they belong to Joss and Co. I’m just borrowing them for my sick and twisted pleasure.
Distribution: If I posted it to your list…well then I guess you can have it. Otherwise, just drop me a line…I’m sure to say yes.
Feedback: But of course. I tend to really, really like the stuff. It’s almost an obsession. ghoztstarz@yahoo.com
A/N: In this fic Drusilla is dead. Thanks to Gabrielle for yet another wonderful challenge and for all of the input for this fic. You are the best! The titls tas taken from the song ‘Flesh Into Gear’ by CKY (Camp Kill Yourself)

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Chapter 3

It was just another night of research in the school library. They were missing someone though…Buffy. She’d taken off right after the fight with Angelus. There’d been no note, no message on anyone’s machine saying where she went, or even why. But they knew, or at least thought they did.

Buffy may have killed Angelus and sent him to hell, but he still wore the face of her lover, her soulmate…or so she thought. No matter what she told herself or heard everyone else tell her, she’d still held on to the hope that Angel was under there somewhere. Now, she would never know. So, she left.

Buffy left Giles, Xander, Oz, Cordelia, and Willow to look after the Hellmouth. The empty space left by her was felt by the entire gang. Giles was beside himself with worry, and was essentially of no use to anyone. He followed after wild leads and even wilder hopes in his quest to find Buffy. Willow and the others did nightly patrols, watching each other’s backs and killing whatever they could…and running away from what they couldn’t. They couldn’t just sit back and do nothing, Slayer or no Slayer; they knew what was out there now and each did the best that they could.

The other night while on patrol the four of them had come across…something. They weren’t sure what it was, hence the reason the four bleary-eyed teenagers were at the library well after midnight. The only thing they had on whatever it was they saw was that it was a sickly yellow, scaly, and really fast.

“Xander,” Willow said with a yawn, “hand me one of those books by your arm.” When she received no answer, Willow looked up. She couldn’t tell if Xander was asleep or really engrossed in the book. was was betting on asleep.

“Xander,” she said again and flung an empty Twinkie wrapper at him.

“Huh, wha?” Xander asked, rubbing his eyes. “What was that for?”

“Hand me one of those books,” Willow said, pointing to a rather large stack next to his elbow. She wished that she’d have been able to find something online, but she didn’t find a thing on the computer.

“Been through them,” Xander said. He set the book he had been sleeping on back on top of the pile and laid his head down.

Willow sighed loudly and looked towards Oz. He just shrugged and laiwn hwn his book as well. Cordelia was sleeping in the chair next to Xander, snoring softly. They’d gone through all of the regular books that listed the more common visitors to the Hellmouth. So, logically, they were looking for something that didn’t normally seek out warm, sunny weather and direct access to hell.

Getting up, Willow stretched and yawned widely before making her way to Giles’ door. The door was open slightly and Willow heard the unmistakable sound of Giles snoring and caught a whiff of scotch. She was torn between wanting to go in and tell Giles to snap out of it, and feeling sorry for him. She decided to just go look for herself. Willow knew that he kept most of his rare occult books back in the stacks. If they still couldn’t find anything in those, she would have to wake Giles up and ask him to get the rest of his books from home, the ones he didn’t dare keep in the school.

Walking towards the stacks, Willow stopped next to the sleeping Oz and placed a small kiss on his forehead. She smiled as she walked to the back.

Her smile faltered when the light became dimmer. She’d forgotten how dark it was back here. Squinting, Willow titled her head to read some of the titles. Most of the titles were in other languages and some of them in demon languages. She wasn’t sure exactly which ones to get, especially if she couldn’t read what the title was. Shrugging, she started to reach for a book when she noticed something move out of the corner of her eye.

Quickly, Willow turned around to face whatever it might be. What she saw wasn’t what she’d been expecting. She thought maybe it was the yellow demon, or Xander, or Oz. Even a vampire wouldn’t have surprised her as much as this did. It was unexpected and well, impossible. He just couldn’t be there.

“Angel?” Willow asked softly. She was afraid if she spoke aoudeouder the illusion would fade like smoke. It was so dark that Willow was almost sure that all she saw was a floating head. Looking closer she could see the outline of him, but only barely.

The pained look on his face made Willow want to cry for him. She was cautious though, she had experienced Angelus first hand. Searching his face she couldn’t see a trace of the cold killer that had stalked them for months. It was Angel, and she didn’t know what to do, or what to say.

“What did you do to me?”

a traitor's embrace
how foolish how wrong
contained in one place
anxiety spawns

Willow didn’t know what to say. She was rooted to the spot, just staring at him. ookeooked so hurt, not only physically, but emotionally as well. She could see the pain etched on his face in clear lines. Slowly his head lowered and he looked at the front of his shirt. She followed his gaze.

At first, she didn’t know what she was supposed to be looking at. The shirt was something that Angel would wear. Dark blue and pressed. Then she noticed it. A large wet spot on the front and a tear in the shirt right where his heart would be. Tentatively Willow reached out to touch it. It was sticky, thick, and cold. She yanked her hand back like she’d been burned and looked questioningly at Angel before looking down at her hand. illoillow gasped in surprise. It was blood, Angel’s blood she now had on her hand. Her mind reeled. ‘How?’ she asked herself. Looking back up to ask Angel, Willow found herself alone in the stacks. No one was there. She looked around wildly for any sign of Angel. He’d been there; the blood on her hand was proof. Wasn’t it?

She couldn’t think. Her mind was a whirl of images, blood, and possibilities. Had Angel really been there, or was she just tired and seeing things? But that didn’t explain the blood on her hands. It was too much, too sooter ter Angelus’ death and Buffy’s disappearance. Willow felt faint and sick to her stomach. She looked back down at her hand hoping that the blood would disappear like Angel did, but no, it was still there, drying on her hand. She had to get it off.

Running, Willow passed the sleeping occupants of the library and made her way to the bathroom. Turning the tap to hot, Willow stuck hend und under the scalding water. She grabbed soap with her other hand and washed furiously, scrubbing more then necessary. Theod wod was long gone, down the drain. And still she scrubbed. She could still feel it, the stickiness.

Finally she stopped scrubbing and turned off the faucet. Breathing deeply Willow closed her eyes. She could still see the haunted, pained look in Angel’s eyes and felt a tear slip out. It had all just been an illusion though. Right? It couldn’t possiblye bee been Angel.

Willow felt suddenly alone and cold in the school restroom and she didn’t want to be alone after that. It had shaken her to the bone to see Angel. Making her way back to the library Willow quickly convinced herself that she was just tired and needed some sleep. She decided to leave a note for Giles and wake everyone up to go home.

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Angelus watched Willow’s reaction to the blood from the cover of shadows. He’d moved just in time to perfectly simulate the effect of him disappearing. She’d truly believed that he was Angel, and that was just fine with him. It would work well for them, Spike and Angelus.

He watched with anticipation as she went through the different stages of disbelief, acceptance, and horror. He watched as her face blanched and sweat broke out on her forehead. He listened to her heart race in her chest and smiled as she bolted out of the library. Yes, it would work well for them.

Making his way out of the library, Angelus smiled to himself again and went to go see Spike about the other plans they had for their Willow.

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Willow made her way home alone after separating from the rest of the group to head down her street. She hadn’t told anyone about Angel or the blood on her hand. Besides, what would she tell them? ‘Oh, by the way, while you guys were sleeping, I went back to find some books and may or may not have seen Angel. And, he may or may not have been real. The best part is he had a hole in his chest. I touched it and my hand came back bloody. So, am I crazy?’ Willow knew it wouldn’t go over well. They would be afraid for her and start hovering over her again. She just recently had gotten them to stop.

Willow stopped walking, thinking she heard something. It had sounded like the flick of a lighter. ‘Stop being paranoid.’ She told herself. Still, she bed bed the cross that she now carried everywhere with her and began to walk again.

Footsteps sounded loudly behind her. Willow spun around, searching the darkness with her eyes. There was nothing but black night stretched out beyond the small circle of light coming from the light pole. She strained her ears, listening for tootsootsteps but they either had stopped or had been a figment of her imagination. Turning towards her house, Willow saw she was almost there and started walking quickly. The footsteps picked up again as soon as she started walking. They kept time with her, keeping up, following her.

This time she knew for sure she wasn’t imagining them. Glancing back she watched as a pair of black scratched boots skirted around a circle of light. Whoever it was wanted her to know she was beiolloollowed but didn’t want her to know who they were.

Her mind flashed onto the apparition of Angel and wondered if she was being haunted. It was Sunnydale after all, so being haunted by a dead, souled vampire just didn’t seem that farfetched anymore.

Finally, she was at the driveway to her house. Willow ran up to the door, digging in her pockets for her keys. Pulling them out she fumbled, dropping them.

“Come on,” she whispered. Getting the correct key in the lock, Willow burst through her door, shutting and locking it quickly behind her.

After calming a bit, taking a deep breath, and telling herself she was safe in her house, Willow became curious as to whoever or whatever was following her. She wondered if they were still out there, so she went to the kitchen window. She kept the lights off to reduce the glare and keep herself hidden, and looked outside. Someone or something was standing by the large tree in her front yard. She went to turn on the front porch light, and then came back to the window.

Whoever it was had positioned himself so that he was completely in the shadows. He was smoking a cigarette and the embers glowed brightly enough to show the outline of a face, but not enough for Willow to make out whose face it was. Whoever it was reached his arm out into the light and waved, tmotimotioned for her to come out.

Gasping, Willow ducked away from the window. ‘They knew I was watching,’ she thought. The figure had appeared to be a male and the arm had been covered by a leather coat. The one white finger that had beckoned her outside had chipped, black polish in it’s fingernail. ‘Definitely not Angel,’ she thought. ‘But who then?’

Wi wra wracked her brain to try to come up with anyone who matched what she’d seen. However, she couldn’t think of anyone, nor did she know why she’d have a stalker. Willow was not the sort of person who got stalked. Shspersperately wished Buffy were here. That’s what she needed right now, a Slayer.

Peeking outside to get another look at her stalker, Willow tried again to see who it was.

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Spike decided now was the time and he stepped into the beam of light from the porch. He smirked as Willow gasped, placing a hand over her mouth. Laughing softly, Spike nonchalantly leaned against the tree and lit another cigarette. She just sat there at the window staring at him. Again, he motioned for her to come outside. Naturally, she shook her head no, just as he’d expected her to. He laughed again and continued smoking and watching Willow.

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unopened reowned
what's needed upscaled
digested inhaled
unwilling unwound

Willow was stunned. Her stalker was Spike, of all people…or vampires. Willow didn’t understand why though. ‘Why me?’ she asked herself. Then she remembered the night she killed Drusilla. Her hand drifted to her neck, where a vampire bite was healing. Apparently Spike had seen this because he nodded, then smiled again. ‘He wants to kill me for killing Drusilla,’ Willow thought.

Backing up from the window, Willow went to get something to drink. Her mouth had suddenly gone dry and it hurt to swallow. She hadn’t thought when she’d tried to save herself that night that it would end up being the death of her…just at a later date. Bringing the water up to her mouth, her hands shook violentl
“I
“I’m safe here. I’m in my house,” Willow chanted to herself. “He can’t come in without an invitation. He’ll be gone by morning. I’m safe in my house.”

Taking a deep breath, she downed the water and went upstairs to her room. Willow felt dirty, and she could still feel the blood on her hand as she wiped it on her pants. She needed a shower, something hot and cleansing. Walking over to her dresser she pulled out her pajamas and set them on her desk chair, then looked in the mirror. She looked disheveled and just a little spooked, which was to be expected. The mark on her neck looked angry and red, and it itched. This was good. That meant it was healing. Seeing the bite, she was reminded of why she looked so spooked. Immediately her heart began to race as she edged her way to the window to look outside and see if Spike was still there.

Slowly, Willow pulled back on the curtain and looked down to the tree where she’d last seen him. He was still there and still smoking. Only, now he was looking up at her. Willow squeaked and moved quickly away from the window. She had to chant ‘I’m safe in my house. He can’t come in without an invitation.’ Again and again to calm herself down. Taking a deep breath, Willow pulled herself together.

She went and grabbed her clothes and headed for the shower. Being stalked and faced with the threat of death didn’t mean she had to go to bed feeling dirty and close to death already, so she took a long, hot, relaxing shower. ‘Hopefully, he’ll realize that I’m not going outside, so he’ll be gone by the time I get out of the bathroom,’ Willow thought.

The shower had helped to boost her confidence, helped along by the fact that when she went back to her room and looked out the window again, Spike was nowhere to be seen. For right now, she was safe. Tomorrow she would tell Giles about Angel in the stacks and Spike stalking her.