Part One Of
THE PARADISE SERIES
By Bitch Willow
Rating: PG-13 (for some very bad words)
Classification: Willow/Spike
Disclaimer: I don't own Willow. I wish I owned Xander and Spike, but until some
guy betrays me and Anyanka comes to grant me a wish, it's just not gonna happen.
Joss (my god) and Mutant Enemy and everyone else who owns BTVS, owns it. I got
dialogue help from AleXander's transcripts on the Slayer Fanfic Archive, so
that's another thing I don't own.
Summary: During Lover's Walk, things get a little out of hand as Spike gives
into temptation?and tastes some forbidden fruit.
Sitting on the side of the bed, Willow had never been more petrified in her life. Sure, beds were usually comforting, cozy things, but this one?this one was a burnt mass of blackened wood and charred mattress. Combined with the childish canopy, also a rotting stream of burnt fabric, it was a frightening sight. And here she was, trying to make herself comfortable on it. Yay, fun.
She jumped as she heard a noise echo through the basement. It was so cold down here, and creepy. She shivered. Why had Spike brought her here? What did he want with her?
As she heard the noise again, she corrected herself. Them. Why had Spike brought them down here. Xander was probably still unconcious in the back of Spike's car.
Willow shuddered. Car. She was never going to be able to ride in a car again. Spike was as drunk as a skunk (to Willowfy it), and he'd driven the car like a crazy man, nearly hitting every tree, street lamp, street sign, house, mailbox, and person stupid enough to walk around Sunnydale at night. He'd had one arm wrapped around her shoulders the whole time, and even through her sweater she could feel the coldness of his hand on her arm.
"You're gonna help me, lit'l witch," he'd whispered into her ear, making her shiver in a way that she unfortuantely couldn't classify as just 'bad'. "We're gonna have lots of fun, and then I'll let you and your boyfriend go."
She'd shaken her head. "He's not my boyfriend."
"What?" Spike had said loudly. "You've got a' speak up, pet."
Clearing her throat, she had tried again. "He's not my boyfriend." < Oh yeah, correct the villain, > she'd thought to herself.
He had laughed, a rich and not too unpleasant sound. "I don't care if you correct me or not, cutie. And it don't matter to me if he's your sweetheart or not, either."
Oops. Apparently she had only thought that she had thought to herself. < Is that a sentence? > she'd asked herself, then mentally sighed. < Xander was right, Rosenburg. You have too many thoughts. >
Thinking about Xander brought her back to the present with a jerk. The noise echoing through the huge, drafty room had apparently been Spike, carrying Xand down the stairs with no visible strain. < Whoa, strong >, she thought, then wigged a little. < Strong means that he can hurt me. > < He could hurt you anyway, Rosenburg. You're about as strong as a cabbage right now. Okay, always. >
"Having fun, pet? Enjoying the view?" He walked over to the bed, where he glared at Willow until she moved off. Setting Xander down roughly, he sighed. < Which is odd because he has no breath. > "What's your friend been eating, bricks? I'll bet if I drank his blood, it'd come out red." Willow looked at him strangely, and he drunkenly tried to explain. "Cause bricks are red? Oh, never mind."
"Okaay," Willow said nervously. "But I'd really rather you didn't drink Xander's blood anyway."
Spike grinned at her. "Would you rather I drank yours?" She was a bit relieved to see that it wasn't a threatening grin, just a joking one. Although, he was a vampire, so you could never be sure. Maybe draining her dry counted as a joke for him?
"No!" she said quickly. "Thank you, but I like my blood right where it is." He grinned again and she started backing up, not exactly excited to see that for every step she took away from him, he took one towards her, almost as if he were stalking her. Although, the very fact that he was a vampire made that 'almost' a 'definately'.
Suddenly, she felt her knees hit something. Turning slightly, she realized it was the edge of the bed, and she almost collapsed on it. < Wow, this bed is huge. Eep. >
"Please, pet. Sit down."
Willow did, slowly, then watched as Spike dumped a big box of?something or other onto the bed. < Okay, he's been planning this? Classically, not a good sign. >
"Why am I here? What-"
"A spell, for me," Spike interrupted. "You're gonna do a spell for me."
Willow's eyes widened. < Oh, God. Xander was right. Magic is a bad, bad thing. > She cleared her throat. "Um, what kind of spell?"
"A love spell. Are you braindead?!" Spike fairly roared. Willow sunk back a little on the bed. "I'm gonna get what's mine. What's mine?" Spike laughed a little, this time bitterly, then picked up another bottle, uncapping it and taking a big mouthful of it. "Teach her to walk out on me."
The bottle was empty now. Willow didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. < On one hand, at least he can't get drunker. But on the other hand, he might get reeally mad that he doesn't have anything else to drink. Except me. Eep. >
Spike was still muttering to himself. Turning back to her, he glared. "What are you staring at?"
She had been looking at him, true. He was just plain creepy, not to mention a little cute, which in turn just made him more creepy. < Ugh? >
"Well?" he demanded?
Unnerved by his sudden mood swings, she quivered, stuttering a little. "Nuh-nothing."
Dropping the bottle, he wobbled over to her. "You can do it, right? You can make Dru love me again, make her crawl?"
< Don't ask me to rely on my magic skills, I've been a witch for only about a year! > She opened her mouth, relieved when sound actually came out. Terrified of enraging him, she spoke slowly. "I-I can try."
He was next to her in an instant, and he grabbed her by her hair, tilting her face up so that he could look into her eyes. His own eyes, although still a cold blue, were warming by the instant, waning yellow for a second and then back again. Willow watched in fascination as the flesh of his face began to change. He was controlling it, but in his drunken state he wasn't doing so well. She saw his fangs lengthen, then retract, and she couldn't help but stare. His face looked so?wild, half punk rocker and half monster.
Suddenly, he pulled hard on her hair, and tears came to her eyes. "Ow!"
"What do you mean, 'try'? You'll do it!"
< What? Oh. > "Yes, yes! I'll do it!" God, she would have done anything then, for anyone, just to get away from that half human face, just to get him to stop pulling on her hair.
Spike smashed the bottle he'd been drinking out of onto one of the posts of the bed, and Willow winced as he held it close to her eyes. "You lie to me, I'll shove this through your face, you want that?"
Her eyes were wide and full of tears as she pulled away from the bottle. "No!"
"Right through to your brain!"
"No, please, no!"
* * *
Spike grinned as he saw the terror in her eyes. < Yeah, that's more like it. Give me some bloody respect! > The bloody wench might have been a friend of the Slayer, but she was still a scared little thing when it came down to it. She'd probably never seen a vampire this close up in her life. Liking that thought, he got closer to her, almost close enough to kiss her. She visibly recoiled, although Spike didn't know if it was from the alcohol on his breath or the mere sight of his only half-human face.
She smelled good. She was a pretty little thing, with her eyes all full of tears and her lips trembling. She was so pale that he could see the veins in her neck clearly.
He let go of her hair abrubtly, and walked a little bit away from her. It wouldn't do any good to kill her before she could do the spell for him. After all, the deader she was, the less likely she was to do the bloody spell. He leaned against the bedpost, trying not to think about Dru and failing. "She wouldn't even kill me." < The bloody bitch? > "She just left! She didn't even care enough to cut off my head, or set me on fire. I mean, is that so much to ask?" He clenched his fist, getting more and more wrapped up in his memories. "Some lit'l sign that she cared."
Willow was just sitting there. Eh, better that the little chit didn't try to talk. Most humans didn't have much to say anyway, and "Please don't kill me" really lost it's magic after awhile.
He shook his head, thinking about his Princess and the last time he had seen her. "It was that truce with Buffy that did it." < Although we had out share of problems before that with the whole Angelus thing? > "Dru said I'd gone soft, wasn't demon enough for the likes of her." Spike sat on the bed next to her, not really noticing as she sank away from him. "And I told her it didn't mean anything, I was thinking of her the whole time, but she didn't care." "So, we got to Brazil, but she was just?different, you know?" < Always going out and staying out 'til all hours of the night, worrying the hell out of me. > He looked at her for sympathy, a bit surprised when she did seem a little sorry for him. But then, she was supposed to be the soft one. "I mean, I gave her everything! Beautiful jewels, beautiful dresses?with beautiful girls in them. But nothing made her happy." < And all that time I never cheated on her, frigid little thing that she was. > He sighed again. "And she would flirt?I finally found her on a park bench making out with a Chaos demon. Have you ever seen a Chaos demon?"
Willow made a slight movement of her head that he interpreted as a 'no'. By now he was barely noticing the little witch beside him.
"They're all slime and antlers, they're disgusting." He turned to the little girl and looked at her closely, noticing the shine of her hair, even in the darkness of the basement. He stroked her beautiful hair, not caring as she slunk away a bit from his hand. < She feels so soft. She'll understand. > He leaned in closer to her, breathing into her ear; "She only did it to hurt me."
Spike took his hand away and was pleased to see Willow not looking as scared as she had been now that he wasn't touching her.
"So I said, 'I'm not puttin' up with this anymore,' and she said 'Fine.' And I said, 'Yeah, I've got an un-life, you know?!' And then she said?" Spike shook his head, his eyes filling with tears. Willow was looking up at him with her big sympathetic doe eyes, and he actually felt strong enough to go on. "She said we could still be friends!" He felt all the strength go out of him as he recalled Dru and the happy look on her face as she turned to the damned Chaos demon. He leaned over, putting his head onto Willow's shoulder. The thin pink sweater she was wearing was so soft, and he could feel the heat of her body through it. She was so warm? Dru was never warm. And her hair, her beautiful hair that looked like it was on fire, it waved over him onto his face. He wanted to touch it again, but settled for letting it tickle his lips.
Putting his lips on the little bit of shoulder revealed by the neckline of her sweater, he sniffled. "God, I'm so unhappy." It was true. He was completely miserable, and had been for a good long while, even when Dru had been with him.
She patted him on the knee. "There, there," she said in a rushing, but still sympathetic tone. It was the first time she'd spoken in a while, and he felt relieved that she wasn't scared speechless. She had such a soft, pretty little voice?
Spike sighed, drew in a raggedy breath. "I mean, 'friends!' How can she be so cruel?" He moved his lips up a little to her neck, just right there on the vein.
He was reminded of another good thing about talking as she made a little murmur in her throat, either to protest his lips on her neck or to reply to his question. Spike could feel her vocal cords ripple under his lips, and he growled a little, leaning in closer to her sweet-smelling skin.
"That smell...your neck..." He could feel her shudder as he brushed his tongue against her long pale throat once, twice. He couldn't taste any perfume; her skin smelled sweet on it's own, or with some kind of soap. It tasted sweet too, and he could feel and hear the blood pounding through her veins.
Growling, he pulled back from her a little. "I haven't had a woman in weeks."
Well, look at that. The little witch took one look at him and bolted off the bed. He wondered why for a second, then grinned as he realized that he had his 'game face' on.
"Whoa! Now, hold it."
He finished his thought, ignoring her pleas and frightened looks. Reveling in them, actually. "Unless you count that shopkeeper." He looked her up and down, licking his lips and being perfectly aware that he looked like a hungry wolf.
"Now hold it!" Her voice sqeaked a little as he stalked closer to her. How cute. "Look, I'll do your spell for you, and I'll get you Drusilla back?but there will be no 'bottle in face' and there will be no 'having' of any kind. With me. Alright?" She'd been doing a fairly good impression of 'brave' until she got to the end of the sentence, when she had squeaked again.
He didn't say anything. Just stalked closer.
She was steadfastly squeaking and whimpering as she walked backwards, with him following her all the way. Finally, she hit a wall and shrieked until Spike ran to catch up and ended up holding her against the wall, his hands grasping hers.
He skin was so soft. Her pretty hair was falling into her big eyes, and she was looking up at him with an expression that was not entirely fear, but also anxiety. And curiosity.
Spike's lips curled in a slight smile. < So very innocent? > "You are so pretty," he whispered huskily, then leaned in to kiss her.
Their lips, when they met, were like fire and ice. Every inch of the cavern of her mouth seemed to burn through his coldness; her tongue on his was like a swath of flame. She was so soft, he noted as he pulled her into his arms. So soft all over, when he slipped his hands under her little sweater she felt like silk.
She was kissing him back, to his surprise. She was grasping his short hair, pulling on it with her hands and scratching the back of his neck lightly with her fingernails. He groaned lightly as her sharp little nail scratched lightly at his jugular, as his lips began nipping at hers and she responded in kind.
The kiss ended all too quickly, and Spike found himself disappointed that the fire sizzled out so very quickly, although it was still there, burning underneath his skin and into his fingers as he cradled the back of her head.
"Wha-what was that?" she asked, and Spike was pleased to hear her voice so low and husky.
"I don't know," he said, but as he said it he was stroking the pale little rounded apple of her cheek, her silky skin and brushing her red and swollen lips with his knuckles, making her jump a little.
Willow pulled away from him, shaking her head and muttering something that sounded like "My love life is far too complicated," and she was blushing, turning her cheeks into real pink little apples. He remembered that her lips tasted just like apples.
He was about to take a step towards her when she held out a hand and stuttered, "Spell!"
"What, luv?" Whatever it was, he didn't care. He just wanted her back in his arms.
"The spell!" she almost shouted, close to tears. "Dru, Oz?Xander."
< Oh, bloody hell? > It all came back to him in a blinding flash. < Dru. > His baby, he wanted her back had to get her back couldn't face life without her?right? "Oh?shit."
Willow nodded, her eyes wide and shining. "Uh-huh!" she said, agreeing with him full-heartedly. Tears, small ones, were spilling lightly down her cheeks, and he wanted to brush them away, kiss them away.
< No, you bastard. Don't look at her, don't think of her, don't feel her skin like satin under your lips. Don't see her head all thrown back and her throat bare and pale offered up to your lips? > He tried to gain his composure. Didn't really succeed, but hey, at least he could fake it. "Um, okay then. Do the bloody spell for me."
She was staring at him like he was crazy, and he wondered if he was himself. To pretend that kiss hadn't happened? But it was easier than adknowledging that it had. Now she would do the bloody spell for him and he would get Dru back and never again think about her warmhotburning skin and want to lick her swollen lips. Never want to ravage her mouth and taste apples.
She seemed to get the idea too. It never happened, and it never will. Just a normal kidnapping, no sexual tension at all. No longing and no need to just push Xander off the bed and lose themselves in each other. No bloody problem.
Willow cautiously slunk over to the bed and rifled through the few little bits of magic crap he had grabbed and boxed earlier. "I can't do it."
"What?" His voice was absolutely chilling for even himself to hear, but he couldn't help it. She had to do the bloody spell, so that he could forget about her and get on with his bloody life. Figuratively speaking, of course.
"This?isn't enough. I need some more things; there's a list, and a book. This one isn't it."
Spike let out a little shuddering breath, wishing he had a cigarette or something to keep his mouth busy. < Other than her cute little earlobes. > "Um...but you've got it, though? At your house?"
She shook her head very fast. "No?I left it somewhere."
Ah. Now he was getting somewhere. Stepping closer to her, he bent down to the point where he could kiss her again, if he wanted to. < And I bloody well want to? > But instead he leaned closer to her, close enough to see the nervous fluttering of her eyes. He leaned down, and licked her lips gently, seductively, grinning to himself when she shuddered and moaned a little. Then he made his voice low and deadly as he purred against her lips, "Where?"
She gulped, and Spike was overcome with the urge to take pity on her and himself and just take her into his arms and nibble on that long pale expanse of throat. "I-I left it at the school. In the science lab."
He backed away, aware that they both pulled in a long (and in his case, un-needed) breath. "Okay then," he replied, his voice a little hoarse for his tastes. She didn't seem to notice as she collapsed onto the bed. Her knees had been shaking.
"Well then, luv. I'll just go grab it and the list-I'm assuming it's in the book-," he looked over at her, reassured when she sort of nodded, "and then I'll come back here and we'll do a neat little spell and then I'll let you and your little boyfriend go."
She mumbled something, and he found himself leaning in a little to either hear whatever the hell she was trying to say or smell the sweet, clean apple smell of her skin. "What's that, luv?"
"He's not my boyfriend." Her voice was a bit stronger now, but only a bit. Good enough.
< Good, > he thought, then shook his head a little. "I don't care, cutie." He thought he saw her flinch a little, and convinced himself not to care. He started up the stairs, and at the top he turned to yell down to her. "Now, I'll be back in a bit, kitten. Just sit still 'til then."
He walked up the rest of the stairs, then closed the door, leaning against it for support. What he'd said was bullshit and he knew it. He wasn't coming back here, 'cause if he did then he was keeping the redhead with him forever. No, he was going to go find a pay phone, and call the Slayer and tell her that the little witch and her friend were locked in the basement. Then he was going to go to the airport, book a flight to Budapest, and clear his head for a bit.
And buy a crate of apples for until he came back to Sunnydale.
THE END