Getting Over It

“Hey Buffy!” Willow greeted her friend with false cheerfulness.

“Hey, Will, I was hoping you’d still be up, we need to talk,” she replied, her voice full of concern.

“Talk? What do we need to talk about? Was Riley late for your date? No, of course he wasn’t because he’s the perfect boyfriend, being alive and all, and how’s that going by the way, any major smoochies yet? Probably not though because you’d tell me, right? Not you you need to tell me, because it’s okay if we don’t tell each other about every little thing…”

“Willow, enough! This is not about me and Riley. It’s about you. Will, you’ve been acting really weird lately, and I want to know what’s going on,” Buffy demanded, interrupting the redhead’s nervous babble.

“Me? Nothing. I’m good, I’m peachy. In fact I’m better; I’m peachy keen.”

“Save it, Will, you never could lie to me, so you might as well spill, now.”

“Honest Buffy, I’m fine. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? So you don’t think it’s at all weird to get in bed with me during the night, stark naked? Plus all the little things like being late everywhere you go, and running out of Giles’ place twice now, and I’d swear there was something going on between you and Spike today,” Buffy folded her arms across her chest and stared at her friend suspiciously.

“There is nothing between me and Spike! He just gets under my skin is all, and as for this morning I already told you I must have been sleep walking. I’m really sorry if I freaked you out, but if you want another roommate, und understand,” Willow said, overwhelmed with pent up emotion from the last several days, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks.

“Of course I don’t want another roommate, Will,” Buffy said, placing a comforting hand on Willow’s shoulder, her voice softening, “I’m just worried about you is all. I know your break up with Oz has been really rough on you, and I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, well not fine, but I’m getting over it,” Willow said with a weak smile.

“Well, maybe this will cheer you up,” she said, pulling a small pouch out of her pocket, “I stopped by the magic shop on the way home to pick up a couple things for Giles, and I saw this. The guy that works there said it was a protection charm.”

Willow opened the red silk pouch and pulled out a simple black velvet choker with a small silver pentagram hanging down from the center. Fresh tears stung her eyes as she stared at the thoughtful gesture. Her heart was full of guilt for lying to her friend, but what could she say? She didn’t know how to explain what was happening to her. All she knew was that her life felt like it was spinning out of control and she had no idea how to stop it. Still, she was determined to handle her problems on her own; she had been a burden on her friends long enough.

“Buffy, it’s beautiful, but I can’t, really,” Willow tried passing the gift back to her friend.

“Don’t be silly, Willst tst think of it as an early birthday present,” Buffy swooped up the necklace and slipped it around her friend’s slender throat, “It looks great. Now I’m off to the showers. Maybe you should get some sleep though, you look tired.”

“Thank you Buffy,” Willow said, pulling the small blonde into a quick hug, “I think I will, I just want to get a little studying done first.”

By the time Buffy returned from the shower, Willow was lying on her bed, fast asleep, her head resting on her calculus book. Looking at her exhausted friend, she sighed and then removed the book, placing it on the nightstand. Willow wasn’t telling her something, she was sure of it, but whatever it was, it was obvious she wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. She pulled a ragged afghan up over the girl, and switched off the light, slipping into bed herself. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day for both of them.

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Spike was waiting with bated breath. He didn't know if she was
coming tonight, but he hoped she would. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, about the way she smelled, like something sweet and wild; and that was what she was, both sweet and wild. He pulled hopelessly at the chains, once again imprisoning him in the bathtub. Giles wasn’t quite ready to let him run loose at night while the watcher slept. If only he was free, he could go to her now, instead of having to wait. Spike thought of their earlier encounter in the kitchen, and felt his cock twitch with lingering desire. If only that stupid bint, Buffy, hadn’t come in and spoiled everything! ‘If only…’ he had started to work himself into a halfway decent tirade when he heard something, a slight sound from the living room. She was here.

Willow crept up the stairs to Giles’ loft. Like before, she wanted to play, and also like before, she didn’t want to be disturbed. She stood over his prone form, and blew the same sugar like subce ice into his eyes. Giles let out a soft moan as the magical substance took hold of his mind, locking him into a deep state of dreaming for the next several hours. She lazily brushed a lock of graying hair off his forehead as she sat on the bed beside him. More than any other person, he had helped shape her into the woman she was becoming; smart, resourceful, and above all else, powerful. He had inadvertently exposed her to strong magics that would alter the course of her future. In fact, they already had, she thought with a smirk.

It was no wonder why she had always had such a crush on him. Even now she still thought he was sexy. But the gawky teenager of her past would have been too mortified to act on those feelings, and Giles had just been too stuffy to do anything about it himself. She knew he wanted her as well, she had seen the way he watched her over the years, noticed the shift from father figure to man. Of course he couldn’t act on it, being British and all; there were moral standards to be upheld, proper appearances.

She briefly toyed with the idea of simply seducing him, it would be no trouble really. He was probably a hellcat in the sack, if his Ripper days were any indication, but she knew this would only open a big can of worms, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to deal with that. Too bad, she thought as she slowly pulled the sheet down to reveal his rock hard cock beneath. He moaned again as her hand lightly brushed against his member.

“Willow…” he hissed, his hips bucking up slightly, craving more contact.

‘Well, well, well,’ she thought with an arched brow, ‘Dreaming of me without any planted suggestions? He must really want me.’ She traced her fingers along his chest again. ‘Poor boy, maybe I should give him something to remember me by.’ Reaching up she undid her choker, and tied it firmly around his engorged member. She left it loose enough, so as to not cause any damage, but tight enough that it would still be there when he woke. Then, running her finger along the slit on his tip, she brought the glistening drop of precum to her lips.

“Yummy,” she said softly, before heading downstairs to find her toy.

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Spike was going out of his mind. What was taking her so long! He had heard her go upstairs, he assumed to knock out the watcher like last time, but that was more than twenty minutes ago. He was starting to think something had happened to her, when she finally appeared in the doorway, a mischievous grin on her face.

“Well, don’t you look like the cat that ate the canary,” he smirked back.

Willow walked toward the tub, muttering something under her breath. There was a slight clicking sound as Spike’s shackles fell from his limbs, and he took a quick moment to stretch.

“Nice trick, luv, you’ll have to teach me that one.”

Then with lightning speed, he shot his hand out, and burying his fingers in her hair, he pulled her to him for a passionate kiss. His tongue, forcing its way into her mouth, thoroughly explored her hot cavern. She resisted a moment at his unwelcome intimacy, but softened somewhat as the kiss deepened. ‘Damn,’ she thought, ‘I could definitely get used to this.’

Then, remembering herself, she pulled back suddenly, and backhanded him across the face, hard. He was temporarily stunned, but recovered quickly. He briefly ran his tongue across his lips; she tasted different than she had that afternoon. The sweetness was still there but there was something else too, something musky maybe, vague, but familiar somehow.

“You are a very naughty boy. I didn’t say you could kiss me. Now, you will have to be punished.”

Spike shivered with desire at her words, and followed her into the living room. She indicated for him to strip, and he complied happily. Circling around him, Willow traced her fingers along his chest and back, and briefly along his firm ass. She loved his body. Over the years she had seen several vampires, and often wondered why many of them had been turned. The majority was neither beautiful nor intelligent, and therefore would have little to offer a sire. So what was the point of turning them?

Spike, on the other hand, had both beauty and brains; otherwise he would never have survived this long. Angelus could be a complete bastard, which was deserving of her respect, but he also had impeccable taste, which was also something to be admired. She would have to remember to thank him, the next time she saw him, for turning such a tasty morsel. But for now though, she would simply be content to play with the dark vampire’s childe.

She pulled a long scarf from her bag and tied it around his eyes, tightly. He made no protests; he liked the element of surprise. The redheaded vixen swiftly grabbed him by the back of the neck and roughly shoved him face down onto the table. Then, indicating for him to remain in his bent over position, she retrieved a cloth bundle from by the door, bringing it to the table to unwrap it. Spike was unable to see what was happening, only hear her moving around, but suddenly he was struck by the strong scent of roses.

Pulling several medium stem roses from the bundle, she tossed the cloth aside. She selected one out of the group and proceeded to rip the petals from its bloom, watching as they fell across the table and floor like little pink butterflies that had lost their will to fly. She then accosted the other blooms until all that was left was a bundle of naked stems, and confetti like aftermath of petals covering the area.

During tim time Spike did his best to be patient, flinching occasionally when something soft and fragrant would drift down onto his back or shoulders. He was embarrassed at this reaction, ‘Scared of soddin’ flower petals! If this gets out, I’ll never live it down,’ he thought, but the sadist in Willow found it extremely amusing, and several times she let slip a giggle.

“You know, Spike, I couldn’t help but notice how well you’ve healed from our last little session. In fact, you don’t seem to have a single mark left on you,” as she said this, she trailed a warm finger down his back, again making him shiver. “Well, that’s just fine by me. I like a clean slate.”

Suddenly she brought the bunch of rose stems down hard against his back. Spike let out a sharp gasp with the impact. The blow was not as painful as the previous knife cuts had been, but it definitely stung. Plus, there was the added pain of the thorns, tugging at his skin when she pulled the stems back again. Each blow tore at his flesh a little more, until his back, legs, and buttocks were covered in bleeding welts. But Spike wasn’t the only victim as the sharp thorns also bit into her flesh as well, over time causing blood to flow from her hand, down the stems to combine with his.

Willow loved seeing ‘the big bad’ humbled before her. The more she beat him, the more she became aroused, and if she wasn’t mistaken, based on the low moaning sound Spike was making, he was equally excited. Pulling off her little slip dress (another outfit liberated from the slayer’s closet), she climbed onto the table, pulling Spike up on top of her.

At first he fumbled around clumsily, hindered by his blindfold, but soon he got his bearings as he began to kiss his way up her hot flesh. He took his time, wanting to savor the experience, thoroughly enjoying the slow torture he was able to give her in return. As brutal as she had been to him, he was nothing but gentle, as he planted one soft kiss after another, up her legs and skirting around her hot center, making her groan in frustration. She knew she could make him pleasure her any way she wanted, but he had been a good boy, he deserved a little freedom to explore. Besides, she was curious about just what he had to offer, and so far she wasn’t disappointed.

He continued his assent up her abdomen, lovingly caressing her bellybutton with his tongue, before moving on to first her right breast, and then the left. He circled her nipple with his tongue, and then sucked it into his mouth, giving it a gentle bite with blunt teeth. She couldn’t take much more of this. Finally they were face to face, and Spike leaned down to capture her mouth once more. Willow panicked, slightly thrown suddenly by how intimate the situation had become, and shoved the fist full of rose stems into his mouth.

“I think I’ve made it pretty clear to you how I feel about kissing,” she said coldly, “Now fuck me.”

Spike bit down on the stems, with a sudden rush of anger, tasting their combined blood along with the bitter taste of the plant, as he thrust into her, quickly and violently. He wanted to please her, wanted to be close to her, but instead she insisted on playing these games with him, messing with his head. Well, he was nobody’s fool. He ‘would’ have her for his mate, and if that meant breaking her in a little in the process, all the better. He thought of how he was going to turn the tables on this self-righteous bitch as he pounded into her relentlessly.

Willow wasn’t sure what had come over him suddenly, but he was riding her so hard, it was almost painful, and she loved it. She clawed at his wounded back, drawing fresh blood as she felt her orgasm take hold of her. Her throbbing channel clenched his member tightly as she rode out the waves, but Spike, distracted by his thoughts of revenge, continued to slam into her, with no sign of stopping soon. Again he brought her to the edge, but she knew that her body couldn’t take much more, or she wouldn’t be able to sit for a week.

Reaching up, she pried the rose stems from his clenched teeth, and pulled his head down to her throat, making her invitation clear. Spike was instantly brought back to the moment as his demon visage came to the fore, and he sunk his fangs into her tender flesh. The sensation pushed the nearly exhausted redhead over the edge again, her muscles once more clamping tightly around his rigid cock. This time, however, he was also caught up by the sensation, as he felt his balls start to tighten and came with a loud roar, filling her with his cold seed.

When it was over, neither of them made any immediate attempt to move, as they tried to recover their strength. Finally though, Willow became uncomfortable with their closeness, and pushed his limp body off of her. Dressing quickly, she went to look for a broom to clean up the rose petals, giving Spike a few more minutes to compose himself. She didn’t know what was wrong with her; this was supposed to be a simple fling. Spike was nothing more than a play thing for her to use for getting her sexual aggressions out. She wasn’t supposed to develop feelings for him.

She scowled to herself as she located the broom and dustpan. It must be the ‘other’ Willow doing this to her, her weaker counter part. She must have feelings for this vamp that were leaking through into her time. Well, not anymore! As of this moment, she and Spike were over. There was no way she was leaving either Willow susceptible to another heartbreak like she had gotten from Oz. Tonight was the last time, and she marched back out to the living room to tell him so. Yet, when she rounded the corner, and saw him standing, shirtless, as he tried to sweep up the mess on the table with his hands, her mind wandered back to their first kiss of the evening, the one he had taken her by surprise with, and all the other ones across her body that followed, and she lost her resolve.

She helped him finish the cleaning in silence, and then heated him a mug of blood. He noticed the change in her, but was unsure what it meant. He was still angry at the way she had treated him, but at the same time her callousness appealed to his dark side. He knew all about head games, he had spent centuries playing them with his victims, but now he was on the receiving end, and wasn’t too happy about it. If he was smart, he would walk away from her altogether, but as he watched her in the kitchen, fixing him a late night snack, he knew it was already too late to turn back.

To be continued…