Part Six Of
THE PARADISE SERIES
By Bitch Willow
Rating: PG or PG-13. Mild.
Disclaimer: Me no own characters. Me lowly fic writer. Me bow before all the
real creators, writers, directors, and other people affiliated with BTVS. If
you want to borrow these characters, I suggest you call Joss, although his versions
of these characters don't really get along. Mine are more fun cause they fool
around with each other. The song is by K's Choice.
Summary: Willow stops by Spike's apartment.
Author's Notes: Are you getting tired of these yet? I'm deciding that everything
happened the same up to Living Conditions, but almost immediately after that,
Spike came back and it dissolved into my own weird little world. Oh, and just
cause I like it, Spike is wearing James' outfit from the episode of Millenium
he was in.
Willow stood in the hall of the apartment building, nervously tapping her foot and holding a bag of what people could assume was some sort of food, but was really a big ol' cup of blood from the butcher shop. < Of all of us, I'm always the one who gets roped into bringing Spike his blood. Hello, does the word 'kidnapping' bring anything to mind? The man once tried to decorate my skull with glass. > < The man once kissed me 'til I stopped breathing. >
She flinched. Lately, especially since Spike had come back to town, the naughty little contradicting voice in her head had been getting louder and louder. < Does that mean I'm crazy? > < No, that means that I'm getting a mind of my own. A mind where I think Spike's a hottie, and all people who say 'duh' should be shot. Well, except Buffy, cause she defends the world from evil and stuff, but?I'm ranting. Dammit, I'm supposed to be dropping this off here and delivering a message. Bad Willow! >
Throughly scolded, she timidly knocked on the door. "Spike?"
After a few seconds, the door opened to reveal a very sweaty and very shirtless Spike. < Okay, I take that back. Very bad Willow! I swear, from now on I'm procrastinating more often. >
He seemed as shocked to see her as she was to see him. Well, to see him shirtless and all sweaty, anyway. She'd expected to see him cause it was his house and he lived there?well, not lived there cause he wasn't alive and she was rambling again! < Dammit, Willow, use your brain to think. >
"Uh, hi there, Spike. I brought you this," she said, holding up the bag. "Blood," she explained when he looked at her oddly. "For you."
He jumped like he'd just been poked by the 'hey, pay attention' fairy. "Oh! Um?come in." He turned and made his way into the apartment and, swallowing hard, she followed.
"Wow. This is...nice." The apartment was rather large, with several large and comfy-looking chairs, a couch that looked to be covered in red velvet, and a beautiful coffee table with intricately carved legs that was covered in magazines and several books. Among them Willow could see Memoirs Of A Geisha and a biography on James Dean. < Wow, he has really?eclectic tastes. > On the walls were several beautiful paintings, and one framed pencil drawing. Approaching it, she realized it was a portrait of Drusilla. The initial in the corner was A.
She heard Spike come up behind her. Pointing to the picture with her free hand, she turned to him. "Who drew that?"
He shrugged. Pulling on an olive-green t-shirt, he spoke to her through the fabric. "Angelus. About a hundred years ago. Literally," he added.
Willow nodded, relived that he was completely dressed now. Not that the tight shirt and camo pants was any less sexy, but still. < Yum. > "So, uh?whatever happened with you two?"
Spike flinched, and she felt immediately bad about her line of questioning. "I met up with her and the Chaos demon she was with. Saw that he was takin' care of her. Left."
She nodded. "That was sweet of you. To think of her happiness over your own. You must really love her."
He shrugged again, then held out his hand. "Blood?"
Her eyes widened, and she gasped. "Oh, right. Sorry." She held out the bag and he took it, brushing her fingers with his own. They both grimaced.
"So, um. I have a message?"
Spike nodded, then walked towards the kitchen, gesturing for her to follow. "Yeh? What's that? Do I have to help the Slayer behead some demon later tonight, or is it just simple, boring research?"
She grinned, sitting on the edge of the circular table in the dining room/kitchen. Spike had been helping steadily and generally without complaint since he had gotten back to Sunnydale, which was about three weeks before. He really seemed to enjoy the 'kicking demon ass' portion of being a Slayerette. Although, to be fair, he was a violent demon guy himself, and he hated being called a Slayerette anyway. Last time Xander had referred to him that way, Spike had threatened to "gut the little bugger and hang him from a tree."
"No," she replied. "Prophesy. Possibly some heavy fighting for you two later on."
"Oh." He looked disappointed. "You hungry? Want something to eat?" He gestured to the many cupboards, which were painted blue.
Willow smiled nervously. "Sure...as long as it's not any sort of human blood stuff."
He grinned saucily. "Then you'll just have to stay out of the fridge." Knowing that he was kidding, but still a little freaked, she got off the table and opened the nearest cupboard.
"You sure like apples, don't you Spike?" The cupboard was full of them. Green ones, the ones she liked best.
He smiled sheepishly, and she got the idea that if he'd been human, he'd have been blushing. "Uh, yeh. They're?um. Good."
She glanced at him oddly, then took an apple. "Do you mind?"
He shook his head. "Oh. No, go ahead." He seemed to be having trouble speaking. "Um, so when should I be there? It is still day, if you hadn't noticed."
Sticking her tongue out at him, she sighed. Since the Scooby Gang had found out that he definately couldn't kill them, and vice-versa, they'd all gotten to be pretty normal with each other. Xander was already insulting him on a regular basis. "Well, you should go there at night. That's what Buffy said, anyway."
"Ah. How very not-vague."
She suddenly noticed that there was a CD player in the kitchen, and it was on. Going closer, she could hear something playing faintly.
Mmm, I will try hard to be a spark of power
I will, I'll never be your iron flower
Stone, please explain
Why your silence makes more Noise than thunder
Bones, is it sane
To obey me and the flesh you're under...
Willow looked at him and raised her eyebrows. "Not punk. Who knew?"
He looked embarrassed. "Well, Sex Pistols is still in a box somewhere."
She grinned at him. "Anyway, Buffy said to come over around?seven? To Giles' apartment. I swear, we need another library."
Spike laughed, a sound that she was finding more and more attractive. "Yeh, I know. It's so damn tiny. We should meet somewhere else. Hell, we should meet here."
"Well, propose that. This place is a lot bigger than Giles' place. It's decorated better too."
He noticibly puffed up. "Thank you. I have always had impeccable taste."
Willow scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Please. It reminds me of Angel's old apartment, except with more vivid colors."
"Brat."
"Demon." She giggled, then, catching sight of the clock on the wall, shrieked. "Oh my God! I have a class in, like, ten minutes. Gotta go."
He nodded and followed her out of the kitchen. "Oh, Willow?"
She turned back to him to see that he was in the doorway, staring at the floor. "Yeah?"
"About what happened last time I was here..."
< Oh, goddess. I should have known this was going to happen sometime. > She swallowed and braced herself for awkwardness. "Yeah?"
"Well, I'm just sorry." He seemed sheepish, reluctant to meet her eyes. "About trying to break your face open with that bottle. And kidnappin' you and your littl' friend. I mean, I don't remember much what happened after that, but?"
Willow's head shot up. "What? You don't remember what happened after that?" Her smile was entirely hopeful.
He seemed reluctant to go on, but finally he sighed and nodded his head. "Yeh. I think?I left? And that was it."
She grinned, relieved. "Yep. That was it. Is that all? Cause I really need to go to class."
Spike smiled. "That's it. See you, Red."
"Uh-huh." Willow practically flew out the door, and he stared after her.
"Yeh, you're right. I must really love her."
Your words are soon gone and it hurts, I have none
Take a jump from you pretty linguistic tower
The goal of speech, so obnoxious to reach
Only one thing to do, melt your iron flower...
THE END