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Shot In The Dark

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Ten days after the shooting Willow entered the guest house just before sunset. Her parents had insisted that she eat dinner with them, but had still allowed her to stay with Cordelia. Willow was very grateful that Cordelia's parents were conveniently out of the country so much.

Dropping her book bag on a chair, she kicked off her tennis shoes and walked into the bedroom, only to stop short, her mouth dropping open.

The room was lit by candles and Cher's love songs was playing on the stereo. Spike stood in the middle of the room wearing a pair of dark gray jeans. He held one pink rose out to her. Willow took it, raising it to her nose.

"You went outside for this?"

"They grow just out the back door. It was overcast. It was worth it."

She smiled, then walked into his embrace, her lips meeting his. "How do you feel?" she asked a bit breathlessly.

"Much better. Much stronger. I think I'm ready to go home."

Her brow furrowed and she nibbled on her lower lip. "Are you sure? Can you...defend yourself?"

"The only one I can't take is Angelus," he replied darkly, then tried to smile. "Don't worry. He won't do anything."

The reason why lay heavily over both of them, and Willow stepped out of his embrace to walk over to a table upon which sat a chilling bottle of champagne. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too. This has been nice. Well, except for the getting shot part."

She handed him a glass of champagne, then raised her own to her lips. " we go back to the way it was before?"

Spike sipped his champagne, watching the emotions flicker across her face, then he took her hand and led her to the bed. They sat at the foot and he slid his arm around her waist. "I think that we should date."


"Yeah, you know, dinner, a movie."

"Isn't that a little backwards? I mean...we've already done what follows all that."

He flashed her a grin. "I never said I was predictable, luv." His look turned serious and he pressed a kiss to her temple. "As I get stronger, I need to make our relationship known to the rest of the community, to protect you."

"Is that done? I mean, vampires and humans?"

"More often than the watchers would like you to believe. We're not all insane killers, especially the older we get. We obviously don't need to kill to survive."

Willow drained her glass and pulled away from Spike to rise to her feet and walk back over to the bottle. "Um, yeah, about that..."

"You don't want me to kill," he finished for her.

She slowly poured another glass, keeping her back to him. "No."


Surprised, Willow turned around. Spike finished his glass and rose to join her, taking her hand and pulling her against him. "I don't want this to be an issue between us. I don't need to kill, so I won't."

" like the violence and..."

He interrupted her train of thought. "I need fresh blood. It makes me stronger and I need to keep getting stronger, but I don't have to kill to take it. I can't promise not to hunt; the adrenaline in a victim's blood is very enjoyable. But, I'll hunt the scum of the Earth. Rapists, murderers, the bad guys...Politicians."

A flicker of a smile formed around her lips. "Will you be looked down upon for not killing?"

Spike shrugged. "I won't lose any standing as long as I can fight off any challenges. Even with these damn bullets inside me, I'm stronger than most. There's not a vampire in Angelus' clan who's more than forty years old outside of me and Dru. And, the older we get, the stronger. Add to that the fact that I'm one of Angelus' two childer, and that both his and your blood has increased my strength..."

"Am I worth all that hassle?" she asked in a small voice, picturing him spending his evenings battling other vampires.

"You're worth the world," he swore softly, taking their glasses and setting them aside.

"I love you William Francis Harold Addington."

Spike rolled his eyes at her recitation of his real name, but then smiled down at her. "I love you, too, Willow Ann Rosenburg." He kissed her, then swung her into his arms.

"Spike," she protested. "I'm too heavy."

"I'm not carrying you far." A moment later, he lay her in the center of the bed, then sat beside her.

Willow looked up at him, then slid her eyes down his pale chest. "Spike, are you sure about this? I mean...can you?"

He took her hand and drew it to the fly of his jeans, and her eyes widened in pleasure as she cupped the hard denim- covered flesh. "I'm fine and dandy."

Her hand continued to caress him, but she protested again, "But, even though your heart doesn't beat, when you get excited the blood pumps faster through it. This could..."

"I'll be fine. This morning I woke up with a stiffie and was half-way through relieving it when I realized what I was doing and that my chest didn't hurt."

Willow flushed and nibbled on her lower lip. "You masturbate?" She'd never really thought about it.

Spike groaned as her fingers continued to drive him crazy. "I want you all the time. I only get you every few days or weeks."

"Dru?" She had to know.

"That was the first time, Willow. I swear to you."

"I believe you." She smiled and flicked open the button on his jeans. "What do you think about when you touch yourself?" She slowly drew the zipper down, watching his eyes nearly cross as his cock sprang free.

"You," he replied hoarsely. "You naked, on my bed, your red hair spread out on my pillows, you body glistening with sweat, your nipples hard and dark pink, your hand between your legs..."

Lust exploded in her and she whimpered, her hand wrapping around his cock and squeezing gently. "I want you."

"It's been so long..."

Sitting up, Willow pulled her top over her head, then wriggled out of her skirt, leaving her in a pair of pink panties, soaked with her dew. Spike pulled off his jeans, then moved between her open legs. Leaning down, he ran his mouth over her breasts, catching first one than the other nipple between his teeth and nipping. Her hands rose to his shoulders, caressing up and down his back, as she began to squirm on the bed.

Sliding backwards, Spike trailed kisses over her shivering stomach, then along the waistband of her panties. Inhaling her scent--strawberry soap and musk--he slid his fingers into the sides of the scrap of silk and pulled down. Her bottom rose off the bed, aiding him in removing her panties. Tossing them over his shoulder, he settled on his stomach, his head pillowed on her thigh.

"I've missed this," he murmured. "So red, so swollen, so hot." One finger parted her labia, baring her distended clit to his eyes. The finger slid lower, finding her weeping entrance and slipped inside, curling up and thrumming against her tight inner flesh.

Willow bounced her hips, moaning, as her hands cupped her breasts and her fingers pulled on her nipples. "Please," she breathed raggedly.

He slid another finger inside her, smiling as she clenched and unclenched around his digits, then slid his thumb up her cleft. He teased her, running it around and around her throbbing bit of flesh, until she mewled his name. Then he touched her, his thumb pressing down on her clit and rubbing quickly.

Willow whimpered and bucked against his talented fingers, then groaned as his hand fell away. Spike fastened his mouth over her clit and sucked hard, scraping at the sensitive flesh with his teeth and tongue.

Yelling his name, Willow shuddered into orgasm, her hips bouncing wildly on the bed, her fingers digging into her soft breasts. As she came down, Spike lapped at her wet, quivering flesh, then smiled and moved over her. Willow's hands gripped his arms and her legs rose to wrap around his thighs, drawing him closer.

"I need you inside me," she begged, panting, her body still shuddering in pleasure. She felt his cock pressing against her opening and angled her hips more, granting him access.

With a grunt of pleasure, Spike slid to the hilt. Her heat and tightness made him shake and he dug his fingers into the bedding on either side of her shoulders. "Don't long..." He thrust hard, his pelvis slamming against hers uncontrollably.

"'S okay," she crooned, meeting each thrust, her fingers kneading his taut upper arms. "Come, baby..."

Flinging his head back and growling deep in his throat, Spike let himself go, jerking into her, letting her inner muscles milk the orgasm from him. Panting for air he didn't need, he collapsed on her, then rolled to the side. "Shit," he breathed heavily. "Didn't mean to come off so fast."

Gently Willow turned him onto his back and curled next to him. "It's okay. It's wonderful." Her fingers caressed his chest as she pillowed her head on his shoulder. "It's been a long time."

"And it lasted all of sixty seconds, if that," he replied ruefully.

"Stop that," she scolded. "Ten days ago I didn't believe we would ever get to make love again. This is a miracle."

Spike felt tears prickle in the corners of his eyes and he pulled her closer. "You're my miracle, Willow."

"And, after our first date this Friday night, dinner at Fredericos and "Notting Hill..." She ignored his groan of 'chick flick' and continued, "We'll make love again and if it lasts only a minute, I'll still be just as happy."

"You're easy to please," he teased.

"It's not like you didn't make me come. You always make sure I come, even that first time. I can't believe that boys my age are that considerate."

"You'll never find out," he growled into her ear, then nipped the lobe making her giggle.

"Don't want to. It can't get better than this."