Beast Master

Willow sipped her coke and refocused on the guy next to her at the bar. Ted. That was his name, she reminded herself. Blonde hair, blue eyes… clean cut and very polite just like Riley said. Smart too. He was writing his thesis on his theory that debunked the Universal String Theory. Impressive. The perfect date.


“…so if we apply the techniques to the manifold paradigm for superstring and come up with a candidate manifold defined in conformal field theoretical terms. Willow? Hey… Willow?”


Seeing something cross her field of vision, Willow blinked and her eyes came into focus where she saw Mr. Perfect Date waving his hand in front of her. “Oh! I’m sorry, Ed. Ted! I’m sorry,” color stained her cheeks as she apologized.


“I’m boring you…”


“No-no-no, really. It’s a fascinating theory… really. Go on…” she encouraged. Riley had gone to a lot of trouble to set this up and she really wanted to prove to Buffy that she was done moping over Oz. She would have been way more successful in her attempt to look like she wasn’t moping if the whole Spike episode wasn’t still so raw that it gnawed at her every night. He’d touched a nerve… and now all she wanted was for him to touch it again and again…


“….so as far as the abstract goes, do you think it’s tight enough? Or should I distill it down further. Willow… hey…”


Feeling his hand cover hers, she sucked in a breath. “Tight. Yes… it’s very tight. You want to dance maybe?”


*


He wasn’t stalking her, not at all. Just watching over her. Girl with a broken heart could get herself in a lot of trouble when the next bloke came along. Right... watching, that’s all he was doing.


Only... now he was walking toward her and that git who had his hand on hers. Wasn’t right for her, anyone could see that. Anyone but her, apparently.


Spiked grabbed some college kid by the back of his clothes, lifted and set him down one stool away from Willow. “Thanks, kind of you to make room,” he said, a dangerous edge to his voice as he took the kid's place and made himself comfortable.


“I’ll have a safe, bland and boring, stirred, but not shaken.”


“Sir.”


Spike nodded to his right. “I’ll have what she’s having.”


Willow’s back stiffened and she froze in place. He was right behind her.


Ted slid off the stool, but when Willow didn’t move with him, he squeezed her hand. “You coming Willow?” he tilted his head toward the dance floor and flashed a charming smile full of dazzling white teeth.


“Uhm…” she hesitated, eyes wide like a deer caught on a barstool with a distracting vampire behind it. Stiff backed, she turned the stool so she swiveled away from the bar keeping Spike at her back. Slowly, she slipped off the stool and tried to inch around behind Ted’s larger frame to avoid being seen.


Spike leaned in, using his body to trap her so she had two options, to look ridiculous while practically climbing over her yogurt-like date, or to brush against him and be forced to look into his face. "Heart's going wild. Must mean he's the right one," he said, giving a mirthless laugh near her ear.


Dropping her jaw, Willow fixed Spike with an incredulous stare. Big mistake. Eyes locked on his, her pulse kicked up and she turned a dozen shades of fuchsia. “Spike!” she managed to choke out. “That’s so totally none of your business. Shut up.” She felt Ted’s arm move protectively around her shoulder but she was more acutely aware that her hip was touching Spike somewhere in the vicinity of his groin. She didn’t move. “What are you even doing here? You know this is a no smoking bar.”


He raised an eyebrow, then her meaning sank in. What would a die hard smoker like him be doing in a place like this. "Trying to live a healthier life, thought you'd be more supportive." He cocked his head to the side, completely ignoring her date. "Found there are better things I could be doing with my mouth." A jolt of searing heat flashed between them and he knew she was thinking along the same lines he was..., but he'd bet she didn't realize how often he thought about the little sounds she'd made... or the way her thighs flexed in his hands each time he moved his mouth over her.


“I’m sure you have…” she answered automatically, the sting of his mocking words more than evident in her tone. She lifted her chin and slipped her arm around Ted’s waist. “Don’t let me get in your way.” Swallowing hard, she side stepped around him and lead her date out onto the dance floor.


Numb, she started moving to the music. She was vaguely aware that Ted was asking her if everything was okay and she nodded, and moved close so her head was on his shoulder. Her heart thumped painfully and it was hard to breath. Slowly, their bodies turned until she was looking back at the bar and despite everything that told her not to, she found herself looking for Spike.


Never taking his gaze off her, spike lifted his beer bottle to his mouth. If that boy was any indication of what she wanted... thought she wanted, then he'd been right, she couldn't deal with the demon in him, any more than she'd dealt with the wolf in Oz. It had been bloody stupid of him to have tried to give her a taste of what it could be like if she weren't afraid.


Bloody stupid. He pulled a smoke out and deliberately lit it, still staring at her. Wanted the do-gooder, rule keepers of the world, did she? Well he was anything but that.


When the couples next to them moved and Spike came into her field of view, Willow sucked in a breath and bit her bottom lip. Ted must have taken it as a sign that he was having some kind of affect on her and he grinned, pulling her closer. She watched, mesmerized as the vampire put the cigarette to his lips and smoke curled around his angular features… features she knew could morph at any moment… in a blur of movement he could be on her… fangs scraping against her flesh…


“Mmmm…” she murmured, her eyes dropping to half-lidded and her gaze still fixed on Spike.


Sensing his date’s arousal, Ted grinned and slid his hand lower on her back to pull her closer so their bodies were pressed hard against each other as they moved to the throbbing rhythm of the music.


Go on. Close your eyes against me. Doesn't make a difference, it's still me you're feeling... wanting. Still my hands you want gripping your hips. Spike knew the truth, knew it because he was a master at what she was doing... imagining who he wanted was in his arms and reality be damned. It was how he'd stood being with Harmony that long. Still... knowing all that didn't seem to be taking the steam out of his growing need to twist that bloke's arm behind his back and snap it in two. The demon stirred in him, and he had to concentrate to keep from snarling or going into game face.


Another ten minutes passed and she didn't look at him, not once. Dropping his cigarette butt into the beer bottle, Spike pushed away from the bar. He was on edge.


She wanted to pretend, did she? Two could play that game. It was easy... too bloody easy.


Didn't take him too long, but he found himself a red head. Right, it was a wig, and her hair was long... but it would do. With his back against a pillar, in a darker area of the club, he gripped the girl's hips and held her up until she closed her legs around his body and started to move up and down. He'd put his coat over her shoulders, so no one could see her skirt was pushed up around her waist.


After losing sight of Spike, Willow’s manufactured fantasy slowly waned until she couldn’t hold onto it any longer. Frustrated, she stepped back from Ted when the song ended and excused herself to go to the restroom.


Heading to the back of the club, she froze in her tracks when she spotted a shock of spikey white hair against a dark pillar. Stunned by what she saw, Willow couldn’t tear her eyes away. His coat was draped over her, but she could see the woman grinding against him, his face buried in her red hair.


At almost the exact moment he felt the weight of Willow's stare, the woman he was with began to talk and whisper his name. Wrong voice, wrong words... He moved his hand over the girl's mouth, and locked gazes with Willow. What he read there... disappointment... maybe anger... she had no right. None.


When his eyes fixed on her she sucked in a breath, but it lodged in her throat and would not fill her lungs. She was suffocating. The color drained from her face as she watched him -- blue eyes glazed with lust. She could feel him. Thrusting. Grinding into her. Slow. Demanding. Rhythmic. Penetrating the very essence of her being.


It was only when he licked his lips and the look in his eye threatened to engulf her completely that Willow became aware that her own lips were parted and the tip of her tongue was lightly stroking the edge of her teeth. Snapping her mouth shut, she fled. Rushing back out toward the bar, she stopped long enough to take Ted’s arm, babbling something about needing to go home. Now.


"Bugger." Wearing a grimace that spoke the opposite of pleasure, Spike lifted and turned so that he had the woman's back pressed against the wall. It was all business now... he just wanted to be done. Driving into her, he quickly had her clenching her muscles around him. Just like that, they were done... and he felt... empty.


* * *


Same old Scooby meeting, just with ten times the tension. Several days had passed since he'd followed Willow to that club. His instincts had told him to go after her when she ran away, but for once he hadn't listened. She might be easily flustered, but she was still a powerful witch... one who'd turned him into a laughable heartsick pale imitation of himself, and she could do it again if she wanted. But that hadn't stopped him from following her... from watching her through her window as she tried to concentrate on homework, or feasting on the sight of her changing in the dark. Had she known? When she pulled the shades closed, had she felt him out there?


Sitting sprawled back on Giles' lazy boy, he turned his head toward Giles who was standing near Willow. "Bottom line is you perform the spell, I go invisible," he said, said, working through how he’d get past the numbers of demons they were talking about here, "I slip inside and out, real easy like. Then I come... out."


“Precisely,” Giles nodded, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose as he looked down at his notes. There was a great deal to coordinate for this operation and timing would be critical. “Except I won’t be performing the invisibility spell. Willow?”


“What? Me?” she glanced at Giles, jumpier than usual. She’d been going insane the last few days. Everywhere she went, she felt his eyes on her. Spike. But he wasn’t there. It was just her mind playing tricks on her and it was making her seriously crazy. But having him right here in the same room was even worse. So far she’d done a really good job of completely avoiding eye contact, but now Giles was asking her something about a spell.


Giles looked up from his papers at Willow. “The invisibility spell. Spike will need to cloak himself at just the right moment. What components will you require?”


“Oh. Uhm…” Willow slid a sideways glance a Spike and swallowed. Shifting her focus back to Giles, his no-nonsense expression snapped her back to attention and she thought about the spell. “Sounds like you need something self-triggering. I could do a casting on an amulet," she suggested. "I’ll need to tune it to his aura which means I’ll need to perform a melding ritual, but I have everything I need for that. Just takes a little time and concentration—” her voice slowed as she mentally thought through the process of the melding ritual and the idea of performing it with Spike. Heat warmed her cheeks. “Uh—wait. You know… on second thought. Maybe that’s not such a good idea. Amulets tend to be finicky… and… and…”


“Nonsense,” Giles cut her off. “An amulet is just what’s needed. Bloody brilliant, actually. Wish I’d thought of it. How long until you can have it ready?”


“Uh…”


"Melding ritual?" Spike sat up and watched the pair of them. "Believe we've been through that one before. Didn't work too well." Though he didn't say it, his eyes said 'could have.'


Willow shrank down into the couch and wished she was invisible.


“That’s quite enough Spike,” Giles scolded he vampire. “Just ignore him,” he suggested to Willow. Spike was always making vulgar remarks to try and get a rise out of them. “How long? Can you have it in two hours?”


“I can’t do it if he’s not willing,” she answered with a helpless shrug.


“Spike,” Giles shot a serious glare at Spike. “Get off your bloody arse and go with Willow and do as she says. We don’t have time for your shenanigans. There are lives at stake.”


"Oh, I'm not the one's not willing," he answered, hauling himself up. "But let's just make sure we're limiting this spell to invisibility, yeah? I don't want to turn into some lap dog." He didn't even bother to answer the poodle joke from the Slayer/Cardboard corner of the room.


Mortified, Willow stood and avoided making eye contact with anybody – especially Buffy – on her way out. If they even suspected that she’d cast a form of love spell on Spike, she would never hear the end of it.


Once they were outside in the cool night air, Willow reeled around on Spike. “Why do you have to be such a jerk!”


"Why do you have to pretend I'm not here?" he countered, realizing for the first time that while he could take her anger, and disdain, being ignored was what bothered him most.


“What are you talking about? I’m not pretending anything,” the firm denial slipped off her tongue like jello. Head down and eyes trained on the sidewalk, she kept a steady pace toward her dorm.


He let a full ten minutes go by. Ten minutes of her staring down at the ground. Ten minutes of her not saying a word. Of her not acknowledging his existence. "Right," he finally drawled, letting her make his point for him.


When they reached her door, he didn't make things easy for her. Didn't move away, but watched as she fumbled with her keys. Right here... just on the other side of the door, she hadn't been able to ignore him, had she?


Thanks to the silent walk, Willow’s mind was filled with all kinds of fantasy scenarios – not one of them involved ignoring Spike. When she finally got the key in the lock and moved to open the door, she was acutely aware that he’d positioned himself so her hand would brush against him if she pulled it open. Determined not to let him beat her in this game, she did it anyway – even going so far as to wedge herself between him and the door to get inside leaving him standing in the hall to decide for himself whether to follow her in.


Without looking back, she went straight to her dresser where she kept her box of spell components in the top drawer buried under her socks and underwear and pulled it open.


He gave her a speculative look and followed her inside. "Haven't uninvited me, I see." It was a question, one he had no answer to. Leaning against the door he watched, wondering exactly what that bit of shimmering pink material she pushed aside was meant to cover.


“Why should I? Not like I have to worry about you sniffing around here anymore. After all, I might just turn you into a lap dog again,” she threw his accusation back at him without turning around. He’d never given her the chance to explain how it had been an accident and now she didn’t want to. It would just expose that raw nerve and the way her pulse was racing right now she wasn’t sure what she would do if he touched it again.


She lifted the box and opened it, picking out an amulet that would serve their purpose. “Let’s just get this done so you can get back to picking up random women in bars and screwing their brains out where anybody can see you.”


"Not just anybody, Red." He wasn't about to explain more. She was the one who was supposed to be smart. Pushing off the door, he walked closer. "Right, let's get it done so I'll leave you in peace and you can find your Mr. Dudley Do Right."


Strangely, he felt like smashing something. At least he could tell that the git from the bar hadn't been in her room. Gritting his teeth, he looked over her shoulder at the amulet. "Go on, put your spell on it."


“I can’t just put a spell on it. It’s not that easy,” she explained, her tone was a bit ragged around the edge in response to him calling her Red. “So… not just anybody, huh? She’s someone special then? That’s nice,” Willow said trying her best to keep it conversational as she started moving about the room to light candles. “So I guess you’ve been busy with her then these past few days.” That explained why she hadn’t seen him. Of course it didn’t explain why she kept feeling him everywhere she went – except that it reinforced her earlier self-diagnosis that she’d gone completely crazy.


"For someone so bloody smart..." he snorted, and trained his gaze on her as she moved around the room. "Not where just anybody could see." Taking his lighter out, he started helping her light the candles. The quicker they were done, the better it would be.


Unless... "Did you miss me?" he asked, "Did you want to be her?"


When his meaning sunk in, Willow’s cheeks burned hotter than the flames that now flickered around the room. He’d wanted her to see. “You’re a real bastard,” she choked out, her hand quivering as she held the match over the last candle wick. When it burned down to her fingertips she dropped it and shook her hand before fumbling to light another match, refusing to turn around to face him or move out of the way so he could light it.


"I am," he agreed, somewhere close to her ear as he put his hand over hers and guided her to the wick. "And you can't handle it Red." He couldn't for the life of him figure out why he wanted her to be able to... It wasn't about making her forget the hole left in her heart by Oz anymore. Like a lot of his plans, this one had gone off kilter somewhere.


Releasing her hand, he asked. "Now, is there anything else I can help with?"


Closing her eyes, Willow allowed herself to just take a moment to feel his body behind hers. Tiny nervous quivers rolled into warm sensations that swept through her, lending her the strength not to crumble beneath his harsh words.


“Go sit on the bed.” Even she was surprised at the note of confidence in her command.


Her cool tone surprised him, but also told him she was serious. Giving her a surly smile, he headed for the bed and sat down. Bounced on the end, then had the sense to ask. "Wouldn't the chair be better?"


“No,” she answered evenly as she moved back to the dresser putting her back to him. “Take off your coat and your shirt and get in the center of the bed and cross your legs.” She rolled her fingers over the line of essential oils stacked one next to the other in a velvet case. Taking her time to read the hand printed labels for each essence, she carefully selected the three vials she needed for the ritual. Even when she had everything she needed, she didn’t turn around to face him.


He'd just leaned against the headboard and made himself comfortable, bringing his legs up on the bed but letting his boots hang off, when she asked him to strip. "You want me to what now?" His gaze sharpened, and he noticed the sensual smelling oils and was more than a bit puzzled. "You didn't warn me this was to be a seduction, Red. Last one didn't go off so well..."


Willow’s face burned red, flaring with anger and humiliation. “No. It didn’t,” she slowly turned around and met his gaze. “I tried to tell you,” her voice remained surprisingly steady despite the turmoil of conflicted sensations and emotions that warred inside. “That spell was a mistake. This won’t be,” she held up the vials. “Cinquefoil and mum blossoms to anoint the space. Ylang ylang and patchouli blend for clarity of mind, and eucalyptus aligned with ammonite fossil for clarity of spirit. I swapped out the keni oil for the eucalyptus because some say it’s an aphrodisiac and I wouldn’t want to make another mistake like that.” Her lips twitched before pursing into a straight line.


“Now take off your shirt and put this around your neck,” she tossed him the amulet.


Moving his arm in a swift downward motion, he caught the amulet and rolled the black string around two of his fingers. The amulet dangled as he started to unbutton his red shirt after shrugging his coat off. "Was it?" He gave her a piercing stare. "A mistake?"


Willow’s heart skipped a beat, but her gaze didn’t waver from his. “Yes. It was. I never wanted you tamed…” I just wanted you.


Licking his lip, he gave her a nod. Hadn't wanted him untamed, either. Or more precisely, hadn't wanted to want him.


In silence, he dropped his shirt onto the bed, then pulled his black tee shirt up over his head. Her heart beat was drumming in his ear and he was entirely serious when he spoke, "not sure replacing the keni oil will do much good." Sometimes when you opened up a door, you could never close it again.


“Yes it will,” she answered quickly, jerking her eyes away from his chest where they’d fixed from the moment he pulled off his shirt. “These essences are all innocuous… it shouldn't affect you that way at all.” Her fingers fumbled as she uncorked the cinquefoil and mum blossoms. Suddenly she wasn’t so sure herself. “J-just sit. This will just take a minute.”


He'd kicked his boots off and spread his legs out when he realized she meant to perform the spell on the bed. The moment she'd moved in, kneeling so close he could feel the warmth emanating from her legs to his inner thighs, he'd tensed... every muscle in his body screaming unwanted opinions about forgetting the bloody spell.


Careful to keep as far from Spike as she could, she trickled the anointing essence onto the bed around him in a wide enough area so she could be inside it for the ritual. When it came time to complete the circle, she leaned forward on her knees and reached around him, brushing against him. Sucking in a sharp breath, she drew back quickly.


The instant she touched him, his skin tightened. Sheer awareness crackled undeniably between them. Did she really think he was going to sit still with her this close, with her scent assaulting his senses and reminding him of all the uses this bed could have been put to that night. His lips stiffened, curled inwards as he gave a tense semi-smile. "Don't mean to complain, pet, but..." his gaze flicked to her bare knees, then back up to her eyes. "You planning on sitting between my legs the entire spell? And you expect me to concentrate?"


“No,” she scooted back and shoved his legs back toward his body as if trying to create a physical barrier between them. Channeling the unyielding tension into assertion, she snapped out the instructions to get on with the ritual. “I said, cross your legs.” She folded her own legs, carefully adjusting the way she was sitting so her skirt covered the parts of her that were screaming to be touched. There would be no touching. Because that would definitely lead to no good.


“Sit up straight and close your eyes. Just empty your mind. Not a great stretch for you, I know…” she deadpanned. Taking a deep breath, Willow closed her own eyes and set about trying to center herself. After her second cleansing breath she cracked her eyes open, disarmed by his piercing gaze. “Spike,” her breath quickened. “You’re not even trying.”


"You're serious." She really meant to sit there, her knees almost touching his, and expected him to do what she obviously wasn't doing herself? "Well that's not bloody fair, is it?" He asked, trying not to laugh at her stern expression. "Expecting me to concentrate, when you're not?"


“I am too!” she protested, but when she shifted, she felt the two unused vials knocking together under her thighs. “Oh. Uhm… wait. I forgot something,” she said sheepishly. Completely flustered, she pulled them out and looked at them with a frown. There would have to be touching for this part.


Unfolding her legs, she hopped up off the bed and stalked over to the light switch and flicked it off so the only light in the room was the candles flickering around them. Taking several deep breaths in a row, she climbed back on the bed and crossed her legs again. When she finally looked at him again, she was struck by the angular shadows and warm glow that danced across his features. And still, his gaze cut through the darkness like a laser.


“Okay,” her voice unexpectedly caught in her throat. Swallowing, she looked down into her lap. “Uhm… this should help clear your mind,” she opened the vial of patchouli blend and coated her finger tips. Leaning forward, she held her breath as she touched his temples and channeled a trickle of her own energy into him.


Her feathery touches seared him... made him yearn for more. A part of him wanted to close his eyes, to bask in the sensations that would stop all too soon. Another part of him wanted to watch... to see how close her cheek got to his mouth as she leaned in, to stare at the pulse throbbing at the side of her throat, and to see her expressions of innocence, nervousness, desire and determination, chase each other away in turn.


He moved his head to the side, brushed her hair with his mouth... wanting so badly to press harder, to kiss her. It was torture, this, trying to be good. He swallowed, then found himself grasping her wrist. "Still not ..." he cleared his throat, "working, yeah?"


Willow bit her lip, her heart racing as she looked at his fist around her slim wrist. With deliberate movements, she picked up the last vial with her free hand and drizzled it into her other palm. “You have to let go…” It wasn’t clear if she was talking about his mind or her wrist. Fixing him with a heated gaze, she slowly rubbed her hands together.


When she finally felt his grip ease, she flatted her palms on his chest and began rubbing the eucalyptus oils into his muscles. “For clarity of spirit,” she said, her voice now nothing but a throaty whisper.


Gritting his teeth, Spike tried to hold still. Nevermind that his blood was flowing straight to his groin and his pants were uncomfortably tight, or that he was beginning to feel starved for sex... she was going to put him through his paces. "Sodding hell," he pulled away from her burning touch and sought her eyes out for the truth. "Is this really part of the spell, or are you testing me... it. The beast inside?" he demanded, exerting his control over it, but very much aware that she was driving it and him to the very edge.


Willow’s entire body throbbed and when he pulled back, the candle flames that surrounded them flared simultaneously in response to her need. “It’s the spell…” she hesitated. “I’m trying to do it… but you’re making it hard.” She bit her lip and tried to regain some control of her breathing, but her heart was hammering out of control. “Your energy… and my energy… we’re supposed to meld so I can channel the spell into the amulet. But… I can’t… Spike…”


Her eyes dropped to the smooth black stone that hung around his neck. Her own chest heaved and she felt a surge of adrenaline charge through her. He was a beast. And she wanted him. Rocking forward into his space, she aligned her body with his so her lips were against his ear and the column of her neck was just a hair’s breath from his mouth. “Maybe I am…” Placing her hand firmly against his unbeating heart, her nails bit into his flesh. “Maybe I’m testing myself.”


He hissed with pleasure and pain, automatically putting his arms out to catch her. His hands spanned across her rib cage. She felt impossibly warm under his palms, and the thudding of her heart sent signals straight to his groin. He dragged the tip of his tongue up the enticingly alabaster skin of her throat, then went back and nipped it lightly. As if infused by the heat between them, the candle flames burned brighter. "I know a thing or two about melding."


Willow released a strangled whimper and she tilted her head to the side, baring her throat to him. Blood red fingernails dug deeper into his taut muscles and she whispered, “Show me.”


Sodding hell... he wanted to. Every fiber of his body said yes, demanded that he strip her, that he take her nipple in his mouth and show her the ten ways to get to heaven with just a bit of old fashioned tongue action. He wanted to hear her call his name, even if she would cringe later. Wanted her out of control and wanted her to see him lose it... and not be afraid.


It was the hardest thing he'd done in a long time. "No," he rasped, fully aware of what she was offering. "Not when you're working a spell. Let's finish this."

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