Petals by Lanie

Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Joss owns them.
Distribution: The Mystic Muse: h ttp://mysticmuse.net
The Eastern Gate: http://naturalblues.org/fic/
Feedback: Please!
Spoilers: Post-Chosen.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Diana for all her help, she is irreplaceable.
Pairing: Willow/Buffy/Spike

Summary: Buffy kept them tempered, tethered and maybe it was wrong, but loving Buffy kept the darkness away.

Willow leaned against the sink. Her hands held the cracked porcelain with a ferocious grip. She could hear the faint mumblings of Buffy and Spike in the other room, Buffy sounded tired, Spike sounded, not like Spike at all.

Breathing in the cold air of the tiny bathroom with a steady gasp, Willow reached for the faucet and turned the water on. She watched it as it filled the sink, slowly swirling down the drain before she allowed herself to cry.

The water tipping against the basin made her shiver but she didn't move to turn it off. She closed her eyes until she heard nothing but the sound of water lapping at her ears.

Willow turned off the tap and leaned against the bathroom door, waiting until she was sure the quiet murmurs on the other side of the door had ceased for good.

Slowly she pushed herself away from the door, her hand moved to the knob and she twisted it open.

The room was dark. The only light coming through came from tiny slats in the blinds. And it was cold, the floor felt like slabs of ice against Willow's bare feet as she made her way to the bed.

Buffy was already asleep, a blanket tugged tightly around her body, a small frown across her face as her hair tangled around her. She watched Buffy for a few seconds, sleeping, until she heard the shuffle of Spike's booted feet across the room.

Slowly she turned to look at him, her insides tightening at his profile. She forced back the bile and unreasonable hate with a shake of her head.

"You should be resting." She whispered, walking around the bed towards the unoccupied side, "You're hurt."

"Been hurt before, haven't I?" He answered with a quiet laugh lowering himself to the lone chair by the only tableside in the room.

"Yeah but Buffy needs us. Besides she's worried about you." Willow added on reluctantly crawling into the bed next to the sleeping Slayer.

Spike didn't answer her and Willow hadn't expected or particularly wanted him to. Pulling the sheet and blankets around her own frame Willow closed her eyes and concentrated on the sound of Buffy's breathing next to her hoping it'd lull her to sleep. It hadn't worked in the past few days but Willow held out hope and tried to fight off the images of the carnage that always guided her to unhappy sleep.

There was fire, lots of fire and screams. Human, demon, no one was spared the judgment that was meant for her. It was her fault. Willow knew that just as she knew that Xander was gone. She'd held his body in her arms long after he'd already died, amazed that the broken and bloodied corpse was the boy, the man, she'd loved her entire life.

Spike let out a scratchy cough across the room, its sound urging her eyes open. She watched him in the dark as he stretched out in the chair slowly, his body barely moving against its own broken bones and marred skin that wasn't healing properly.

She frowned and for a second almost offered him up space in the bed, something Buffy surely would have done if she hadn't fallen asleep so much quicker than the two of them had.

Buffy had made it through the fight almost untouched physically, a couple of small cuts and bruises that were nearly gone already. She'd held the blunt of getting them out of Sunnydale and onto to the road, Spike too beaten to be much help and Willow too distraught to care.

Buffy was exhausted though, and this was the first day that she'd fallen asleep so easily and so quickly and long before both Willow and Spike. Usually she paced the room of whatever motel they'd found for lodging, her forehead crinkled as she murmured to herself, working through whatever plan she was setting up.

Or else she tended to Spike, who was not getting better. A few of his marks had healed up but he was becoming weaker everyday for all that he refused to show it. Willow knew it worried Buffy, but she wasn't sure if it was because they needed another fighter on their side or if it was because she cared about the vampire a lot more than she'd admitted before.

Willow gave Spike another long look, she could barely make out his face in the dark, but his eyes were closed, she was sure he wasn't sleeping but she turned away from him. Rolling to her side, her teeth tugged at her lip as her hand reached up towards Buffy's hair, capturing a few strands lightly around her fingers she willed herself to sleep.

Willow woke up to the rumbling sounds of tractor trailers off the highway. Buffy's side of the bed was empty, the mattress already cold when Willow rubbed her eyes sleepily. Frowning Willow looked across the room and found Buffy where she'd expected to.

Leaning down next to the vampire Buffy spoke to Spike in a low whisper, her words impossible for Willow to make out. She pushed his sleeves up, her fingers gently prodding the flesh that should by all rights be healed.

"Spike," Buffy began quietly but no longer in a whisper, "You aren't healing right."

"Doing fine here Buffy, don't age your brow over the likes of me." He answered back roughly tugging his sleeves down before fumbling for his cigarettes on the table.

"Spike." Buffy pressed on, standing until she towered over the slumping vampire's form.

"Leave it Slayer. I'm fine." Spike finished lighting his cigarette his eyes wandering around the room refusing to meet Buffy's gaze.

He settled his stare on Willow, she didn't look away as he spoke obviously happy for the distraction, "Your Witch is up, see about your girl Buffy."

Buffy shook her head and turned from him in frustration and took the few steps across the room towards the bed.

"Hey." Willow responded leaning up against the headboard, "Um, he's okay?" Willow asked looking in Spike's direction.

"No," Buffy started sitting down on the mattress, "But he's pig headed." She tacked on loudly before continuing, "How about you?"

"I know." Willow agreed taking Buffy's grip, her fingers entwining around Buffy's.

The two girls sat there for a while, Willow biting back tears she refused to show Buffy, her hold gripping the Slayer's tightly, until Buffy spoke again.

Pulling her hand free from Willow's she stood up and paced the small length of floor along the bed, shooting Spike looks of frustration before she looked at Willow again.

"Reason?" Willow asked scooting up, hiding the frown she felt at Buffy's release of contact and her ease into moving away from her and back towards Spike. "What do you mean Buffy?"

"Huh? Nothing. Except he isn't getting better and he won't feed properly." Buffy answered, her tone drifting.

"We could dust him, you know put him out of his misery and all." Willow offered up hopefully, her lips upturning in a tiny smile.

"See another side effect of the Hellmouth opening, you know besides death, chaos and more death. A real sense of humor killer." Willow sighed, "I was kidding Buffy."

"I could go out to the car, the cooler in the trunk?" Willow offered tossing the blankets from her body and standing.

"I don't think pig's blood is gonna' cut it Will. It hasn't done anything so far."

"It can't actually hurt." Willow replied reaching foe her jacket and the car keys Buffy has tossed on the bureau the day before.

"I suppose not," Buffy answered absently before taking the keys from Willow's hands, "But he needs human blood."

"Buffy!" Willow started, the shock obvious in her voice, "You don't mean, I mean not yours?"

"What?" Buffy asked stepping back her face paling enough that Willow scrunched her brow in confusion before Buffy picked back up, "No. No don't be...ridiculous. I need to find a blood bank. And I need to call Giles."

Willow watched the parking lot, the steady hum traffic thundering up and down the highway calming her nerves and reminding her that life existed outside of these walls.

She was also waiting for Buffy's return. She wasn't worried exactly, Buffy was the Slayer after all, it's just this was the longest they'd been apart since they left Sunnydale. Plus she didn't fancy the alternative view.

Buffy had helped Spike to the bed before she left, he protested the whole way, quite feebly too Willow had thought. Now he was sleeping, and even though he didn't have to breathe he always had anyway and the sounds coming from his direction weren't pleasant. They were labored, painful even. Suddenly Willow realized what they reminded her of, the afternoon she'd spent at Angel's mansion after Faith had poisoned him.

Angel would have died if...she didn't let her mind wrap around those thoughts instead she forced herself to look in his direction. After all if Spike did go permanently poof it'd be her fault. The least she owed him was a look.

"That I am." He answered groggily, sitting up, his joints popping, his face worrying against the pull of his flesh and wounds reopening, "Hand me my cigarettes, would you?"

Willow looked towards the table at the half empty pack of cigarettes and moved to grab them. She walked across the room and handed them to him before sitting on the edge of the mattress.

"Buffy?" He asked reaching for the pack his fingers plucking awkwardly at the cellophane.

"She'll be back." Willow answered shortly watching him struggle with the pack. His knuckles were raw, the bones in his hands jutting wrongly against his flesh. Frowning she took the pack from him and she handed him one of his cigarettes.

He struggled with the lighter he'd pulled from his pocket and Willow shook her head.

"Buffy's right, you are a stubborn so and so aren't you?" She asked plucking the Zippo from his hand and releasing the flame until the tip of his cigarette glowed orange in the darkness.

The two sat in silence the only sound in the room the flick and hiss of the Zippo as Willow passed the flame underneath her fingers, not brave enough to let the heat linger long enough to cause any real pain she still enjoyed the tiny jolts it sent through her skin. She wasn't aware that she was smiling until Spike moved and made a grab for the lighter.

She palmed it in her hand, the heat from its metallic frame warm against her grasp. "That's rude Mr. Grabby hands."

"Don't fancy the Slayer coming back to a well done Witch, now do I?" He shrugged leaning back against the head board his cigarette perched lazily between his lips before he spoke again his voice hardly above a whisper, "For what it's worth Willow, I wanted to get there in time."

Willow stuffed the Zippo into the pocket of her jeans and stood up, her fingers reaching for the knob on the television. "Think there's anything on?"

"A little help here Will?" Buffy called out kicking the door closed with her foot.

Willow looked up from the television program she'd been pretending to be absorbed in, jumping up she reached for one of the bags in Buffy's hand.

"So how's he doing?" Buffy asked nodding in Spike's direction as she pulled a couple of blood bags from her parcel.

Willow followed Buffy's trail of vision, not having bothered to look in his direction after he'd broached the subject of the night they'd left Sunnydale. He was sleeping.

"Fine. I think. He was awake earlier." Willow answered digging through the bag she'd taken from Buffy, "Nail polish?" She asked holding up a bottle of Revlon Red.

"A girl needs her luxuries especially when she's outrunning evil." Buffy forced lightly reaching past Willow's hand and pulling out a bag of Doritos, "But food, so hey nutritional practicalities."

"In the world of the five year old." Willow smarted ripping them open anyway and digging in her eyes following Buffy as she made her way across the room with the blood bags in her grip.

"Spike." Buffy reached for his shoulder and shook him gently until his eyes opened.

A sly smile crossed his face, "Slayer," He started his arm tiredly reaching for her waist before she jerked away her eyes wide, she held out a blood bag.

Buffy rolled her eyes and reached for it, her tone firm but kind of soft around the edges, Willow looked away from them as Buffy spoke, "You need your strength. I need your strength."

Buffy perched herself on the edge of the table, her eyes wearily watching Spike as he slept, "I think he's doing better."

"Yep. Like an undead dead guy." Willow answered taking another chip from the bag.

"God. I'm tired." Buffy sighed as Willow held out the bag of Doritos, taking one Buffy examined it absently before continuing. "I talked to Giles."

"Yeah. Dawn's doing okay, she doesn't know, he, we figured it'd be better for now anyway." Buffy shrugged sadly before picking back up, "He got us a place to go for a while until things settle."

"Settle?" Willow snorted sadly and leaned back against the chair, covering her eyes with her hands.

Willow heard the sound of Buffy crunching on a few chips before se spoke again, "What's up Will?"

"The whole what with the settle thing maybe?" Buffy pressed closing the bag and dropping it to the table beside her.

"The what?" Willow laughed weakly, picking up Buffy's bottle of Revlon Red, "I'm tired, that's all."

"We're all tired, it's been a rough couple of days." Buffy shrugged hopping from the table.

"What's the huh here Will?" Buffy asked, her hands settling on her hips as she looked down at Willow.

"God Buffy, I don't know," Willow started feeling the tears she'd been hiding from Buffy let loose across her cheeks, "That nobody is being honest here, saying what they mean, that it's my fault."

"It's not your fault." Buffy moved closer to Willow stopping when Willow held out her hand begging Buffy to keep her distance.

"Or, or that you're all 'la la la' with nail polish and fussing over Spike, doing anything to ignore the fact the Xander's dead and Sunnydale is gone. God Buffy, do you even care?" Willow asked weakly wincing at her own words.

"Do...I? I can't believe you just said that Will." Buffy gasped and turned away from the red head.

Buffy whipped around her fingers gripping the collar of Willow's shirt as she pulled her up to full height so the two girls stood. Willow jerked back at the sudden movement but steadied herself on trembling legs, her eyes slowly meeting Buffy's.

"I have to. I have to do this Buffy because it hurts so much." Willow cried trying to step away as Buffy pulled her in closer. "Oh God Buffy, I promised that-that I wouldn't let you see me like this, that I wouldn't. But I'm breaking." Willow hiccupped. "I tried, I really did. Every night. I've tried." She finished sadly as Buffy's arms reached around her encircling the Witch.

"This is not your fault." Buffy affirmed, staring off as the two girls lowered themselves to the ground, "This is not your fault." She repeated cradling Willow in her arms, her head leaning against the wall.

Willow woke confused, her fingers prodded the mattress underneath her. She'd fallen asleep. She'd fallen asleep on the cold floor, her head in Buffy's lap not on the bed.

Pulling herself up and keeping the blankets held firmly to her chin Willow looked around the room in a panic, the thought of being abandoned raced through her. It was what she deserved.

"Oh God." She whispered, until she heard the faintest whimpers coming from the corner.

"Shh." Buffy's voice broke through the air, the heavy tension, and Willow turned to look at her.

Buffy sat in the chair Willow had abandoned earlier, her head rested against the tabletop, her hair fanned about her. She wasn't looking at Willow, instead she was looking towards the corner where Willow had heard the slight cries moments before.

Spike sat against the wall, his head hidden against his chest, his arms wrapped about his knees. Slowly he rocked back and forth. The sight sent shivers down Willow's body.

She looked back at Buffy, a panicked frown on her face she spoke softly, "What happened Buff?"

Willow watched as Buffy dug through the bag pulling a long sleeved turtle neck from the wadded up clothing. "It's cold." She told Willow simply as she stretched to pull her long sleeved t-shirt off her body.

Willow adverted her eyes from Buffy's frame catching her lack of a bra with reddened cheeks before Buffy slunk towards the bed.

"I'm tired." Buffy told her crawling underneath the blankets, "You should get some rest too Willow."

"How long was I asleep?" Willow asked, confused and a little frightened at the spectacle in front of her, her eyes moving back to Spike.

"A few hours but we've got a long drive tonight and I'm sure I don't have to point out the extreme discomfort of sleeping in a car?" Buffy yawned, "Sides cuddle time." Buffy finished sleepily.

Cuddle time, Willow looked at the Slayer questionably, Buffy was acting strange. Willow spared one more look towards the vampire and crawled into bed. She didn't move away When Buffy skirted in next to her. Though she did shiver against the pinprick of Buffy's breath against her neck.

"He's healing." Buffy told her with a slur to her voice before nudging her face against Willow's neck and falling asleep.

Buffy was dutifully packing their bags, both hers and Willow, sloppily stuffing dirty clothes in with clean.

"You're up. Good. We have to hit the road." Buffy spoke curtly not looking towards Willow as she zipped up the bags.

Spike was lounging in the doorway, his face cloaked in regret as Buffy packed at least until he caught Willow watching him. A practiced smirk crossed his mouth as he nodded in her direction.

He looked well, completely healed even, there were still a few fading bruises along his jaw line, but otherwise he looked the old Spike.

"A sodding tonic." Spike answered, looking towards Buffy catching her eyes for a small second before she looked away.

Willow watched the sky from the backseat window, it'd been snowing and it was still dark out but the clouds were beginning to take on a purple glow. Sunrise wasn't very far away, an hour tops she guessed looking towards Spike in the driver's seat, from her spot behind Buffy who was asleep in the front passenger seat.

Willow wondered if Spike had calculated daybreak yet, she wasn't sure if actually could, Angel used to but Spike and Angel were completely different creatures.

Willow sighed, "We're in the middle of nowhere, not exactly an ideal setting for super combustible vampire guy."

When no one responded Willow looked back towards the darkness at the snow banks they passed. A sad smile on her face, she remembered the weekend she had spent with Tara in Colorado the last winter Tara was alive. Before all the badness.

Tara hadn't seen snow before and she loved it. Willow loved the way the cold had chapped her cheeks, making her face so rosy against the frost.

"We're here." Spike called out and Willow looked away from her window towards the direction both Buffy and Spike were now staring towards.

There was nothing but dying darkness and plush hills of snow along the recently plowed pathway that ended in front of the cabin. She wasn't even quite sure when they pulled off the main thoroughfare, which if Willow thought about it was hardly much of a thoroughfare to begin with.

"That it is." Spike answered Buffy putting the car in park. His eyes, Willow noticed, avoided Buffy with caution until the Slayer opened the door and stepped out into the icy grass, where he watched her with pointed interest from the car's dark interior.

"There's this lack of food, gas and lodging feel to the place." Buffy murmured looking towards Willow, "I think this is a one Starbuck's town."

Willow smiled sadly at Buffy's declaration, it reminded her so much of Buffy's arrival in Sunnydale and into her life.

There certainly wasn't a Starbuck's, they'd driven through a tiny town no less than half an hour before. There was a diner, a couple of other storefronts, a five and dime relic from yesteryear but not much else. Willow had guessed they wouldn't be stopping on the outskirts of the sleepy little town, because conspicuous much?

"It's snowing!" Buffy called out excitedly looking towards the car before spinning underneath the falling flakes.

Willow grinned as she watched Buffy. It'd been such a long while since any of them had smiled in true earnest, especially Buffy. Buffy of all them had the best smile, contagious even because it didn't come through often enough.

Willow leaned up against the front seat resting her elbows against the leather and watched her friend in contentment until she looked over at Spike, "See? She can be happy."

Sighing Willow picked at a piece of flaking leather and spoke, "What earlier Spike? Between you and Buffy?"

"Beg pardon?" Spike answered deliberately missing her question while pushing the car's lighter in and taking out a cigarette.

"Something happened. Between you and Buffy. " Willow started slowly, the memory of Buffy drowsy stare and slurred words coming forward, not too mention Spike's throwback to the basement, when he first got his soul. "So what happened?"

"That'd be between me and the Slayer. Not my place to be ticking off the Slayer's business." he snorted before picking back up, "Not Xander am I, always tossing off Buffy's business and the like."

"Don't. Just don't." Willow whispered looking at him, his face softened for a second against the hurt displayed in hers, but only a second before he leaned his arm against the seat and gave her a long look. A sneer as the lighter popped out of the dash and he lit his cigarette.

Willow watched him in disbelief as he smoke his cigarette all casual like as if he hadn't just plunged a knife into her chest. The shock soon shifted to an easy rage, her fingernails dug into the leather.

Spike raised an eyebrow in amusement and leered, "Look at her go. Come on Witch, give it to me good, if you got the stones."

Willow looked up at him and shook her head pushing herself away from the front seat until her back hit the cold leather behind her.

"Ta." Spike answered taking another drag off his cigarette and turning away from her. "Don't fret Willow, not alone are you?"

"Monsters still here." He finished quietly his gaze drifting towards Buffy who was spinning obliviously in the snow her face alight in amusement.

"Hey," Buffy called out, her jovial tone dissipating the heavy tension in the car, "Think there's a mall? I can't imagine not getting my shoe groove on."

"Next to the Starbuck's, Dove." Spike answered her, his voice cracking just a bit.

The sound, the tension, the need to suddenly be out of the car swept over Willow and she pushed the car door open refusing to let herself pass another look in Spike's direction.

Willow took her first tumble across the icy Montana ground, which let loose a riotous laugh from the Slayer who did her own slip slide across the surface to pull Willow up.

On shaky feet the two held onto each other laughing and playing in the snow, catching falling snow flakes on their tongues. They whispered quiet apologies to each other for everything and nothing in particular as they spun in circles. Willow felt alive in Buffy's grasp. Momentarily happy, forfeiting all the guilt and pain against Buffy's steady touch. If only Buffy kept smiling, Willow thought, she'd be able to pretend for a while longer.

"You're so pretty when you smile." Willow told her happily, "Everything stops, killing what's inside me..." Willow drifted off, her teeth digging against her lips.

"Willow this is not your fault." Buffy emphasized her hold tightening on Willow's arms.

"Buffy, You don't know everything. I don't, can't have this conversation, not now. Okay? Can we just be happy?" Willow asked.

"We can? We can." Willow affirmed reaching for hair that had escaped Buffy's ponytail tucking it behind her ears

"The cold makes your cheeks red." Willow marveled, wondering absently if the cold did the same to hers. Trying all the while to ignore the way Buffy felt against her, all strong and soft.

"We're gonna be icicles soon." Buffy smiled quietly reaching up and capturing Willow's hand.

"Maybe," Willow murmured looking down at the ground, "W-would you hate me if I said I was scared?"

"I'd tell you to pull up a seat and join the party." Buffy laughed quietly, bringing Willow's hand to her cheek, "They should make mittens for your face or something."

"There is that whole wild concept of scarves." Willow answered nervously trying to ignore the tiny hairs she knew were standing up along the back of her neck at Buffy's intimate touch.

"Who'd have thought?" Buffy replied absently leaning into Willow until the girls were forehead to forehead, "Can we sometimes not be brave for each other Will?"

"You got yourself a deal there, Slayer girl." Willow responded with an exaggerated nod.

"Mistress of killing things icky?" Willow supplied as an alternative. Spike turned on the radio in the background distracting her before Buffy spoke.

"Knew you would. The sun will be up soon you know, we could wait for it." Willow asked hopefully looking towards the car where Spike still sat playing with the radio.

Buffy gave her a quick light punch to the shoulder, "I don't know what's going on between you and Spike –"

"Buffy-." Willow interrupted only for Buffy to cut her off, "He saved your life, he's saved mine too many times to count, he's, he's, I don't know what –"

"I wish it were easy Buffy, that I could say he wasn't, that he wasn't dangerous..." Willow paused feeling the comfy fuzzy mood between her and Buffy evaporating.

"He has a soul now." Buffy shot back quickly refusing to let Willow wiggle from her grasp.

So do I, Willow thought, that summer Tara died, I had a soul and it didn't stop me.

She wanted to say this to Buffy, say anything at all that amounted to the truth biting at her supposed soul but instead she asked, "What happened between you two last night Buffy?"

"Oh Will," Buffy began quietly, "I love you Willow. You know that right? I mean even if we fight –"

"I know Buff but –" Willow answered nervously, aware yet again at the closeness between the two, the way it was making her feel. The way that Buffy's fingers were suddenly across her cheek, soft and cold with out mittens, eliciting a shiver from Willow, making her forget that Buffy hadn't answered her question about Spike.

"And we don't always have to be brave." Buffy started, "Not always, but sometimes." She finished and leaned up her lips brushing against Willow's gently before pulling back again.

Willow stared at Buffy, emotions she couldn't explain starting to run a gamut through her, she loved Buffy, she loved her so much. Shakily she did not let go of Buffy when she picked back up, "But when we're not I can tell you how much I miss Dawn and how scared I get for her sometimes right? Or how I think I'll die because Xander is never gonna' come around and barbeque again." She finished, tears cascading down her face prettily and perfectly.

"I know Buffy, I know." Willow began, her face working into her own tearful display before emotion took her over completely. "Oh I didn't want to cry Buffy. You made me cry." Willow stumbled, wiping her face absently with her mitten covered hands suddenly all too aware of Spike watching them.

Willow wondered somewhere in the back of her mind what he thought of the two of them, their silly tears, but she hardly had time to ponder much of anything before she felt Buffy's lips on hers again, the kiss not nearly as chaste this time. In fact pretty much not chaste at all Willow thought as her eyes widened at the contact Buffy's cool lips. It wasn't long before she gave into the Slayer's tiny nips and the unexpected warmth of her mouth.

Tara was drowsiness and curves, Buffy was adrenaline and edges but they were both soft and right. She thought she could give herself forever in this moment when suddenly Buffy went rigid, an alarmed cry darting from her opened lips.

"What was that?" Willow whispered eyes wide, tuning out the roar of the car's stereo in the background.

"Thud. Clump." The noise echoed yet again and Buffy pulled herself up to her full five foot two frame, fists ready in a fighting stance.

"Slayer." Willow heard him call back. Had she not been expecting his reply she would have missed it entirely over the sound of The Ramones pumping through the car's speakers. She watched his face shift, in that tiny moment, from something she cared not to think about to that of a predator waiting for his prey.

"Ow. Hey!" Buffy screamed, aptly distracting Willow away from the vampire who'd already found his footing outside of the car.

Willow watched with wide eyes as Buffy fought with her attacker. The Slayer's hands reached up to her hair, pulling at the tangled twigs that had attacked her so violently. Snow from the tree above cascaded in loud thumps all around the pair as Willow's face reddened upon the sight.

"Will, Help." Buffy cried shoving and clawing at the snow-covered twigs caught up in her hair.

Willow held her sides trying to not let the laughter that was begging itself to be released out when Spike spoke from behind them.

"Ferocious things, twigs and snow Slayer. Don't think the Witch and myself are equipped for battle against such beasties. Best leave that to the Chosen One and all."

That did it, Willow let out a loud laugh, the only real one since they'd left Sunnydale. She closed her eyes and threw her head back as Buffy made quick work of the unwelcomed debris in her hair. She didn't see the Slayer's unsure footing, the heel of her left boot catching on a patch of ice slicked grass. She surely felt it though when Buffy spun and slid into her sending the both of them hurling to the ground.

"That's what you get, making with the ha and all." Buffy answered, her fingers lightly probing Willow's ribcage for damage before pulling herself up with the agility of the Slayer.

Willow reached for Buffy's outstretched arm. The two held onto to each other as they wobbled towards the car. Buffy's lips stretched into a grin and Willow giggled between clutching her side, which she knew would have an elbow shaped bruise in the morning.

"And to think it was the likes of you two that thwarted many an evil scheme of mine back in the day." Spike tsked as they made their way to the car.

"Will." Buffy began, Willow eyeing her curiously, "Seems to me that Spike's looking a little too comfortable. You know with the dry, warm clothes and all."

"It's just wrong on so many levels." She stopped and untangled herself from Willow's arms her foot kicking the snow lightly but pointedly.

"Too many. Many, many, big levels, the biggest levels of the big levels." Willow agreed enthusiastically.

"And as the Slayer," Buffy kneeled down scooping up a handful of snow, "It's only right that I rectify the situation."

"It's your duty." Willow nodded casting a quick glance in Spike's direction, "Sacred even."

"Hey. What's this then?" Spike interrupted tilting his head inquisitively as Buffy's first snowball collided against the worn leather of his jacket.

"War?" Willow answered eying the vampire hoping she could make some sort of peace with the monsters that cradled inside both of them before slinging the snowball in his direction.

The cabin was small, really small, Willow noticed setting her bags on the floor.

"Right then," Spike said shoving pass Willow into the room, "Much more outdoor atmosphere, you lot won't have to worry about setting a fire, Slayer?"

Buffy nodded and her and Spike went about securing the place for the day. They moved about the cabin quietly, the jovial mood from the snow fight all but gone as the pair moved so methodically through the small cabin. Windows were shuttered, curtains pulled tight and doors were locked.

Willow took the opportunity to look around the cabin. The walls were bare, nothing hung on them and there was no evidence that anything ever had. It seemed a little strange, a little lonely, Willow thought with a frown as she wandered to a corner chest. It was simple, plain pine, with no carvings or decoration, just a coat of varnishing as a finish. It was clean; she observed her finger moving across its grainy surface. Opening it up she found nothing more than a bundle of blankets and bed sheets. The next thing she noticed was a locked bookcase in the corner. Enraptured, her fingers dragged across it's mesh facing. Demonology texts filled it mostly, standard fair stuff, nothing too dangerous, or, she thought with a small shudder, black artsy.

"Will," Buffy called pulling back the blankets on the bed, "Right side, left side?"

"Huh?" Willow looked away from the books, the blonde was already rifling through her bag for a pair of dry clothes.

"The bed, which side do you want?" Buffy asked, pulling a pair of flannel plants and a thermal top out.

"Oh. Oh," Willow blushed and turned away, "Either, I'm preference free." She answered, worrying her lip at the thought of crawling into bed with Buffy. Which, Willow reasoned was absolutely ridiculous. She'd shared beds with Buffy lots of times in the past. Sure none of the other times took place after kissing in the snow, but still, nothing to worry about. It was just Buffy. Her best friend, her completely heterosexual best friend. Willow was not, would not, have fuzzy glowing feelings about her. Beyond fuzzy glowing best buds kind of vibes, those were acceptable.

"I'll take the right, it's closer to the door." Buffy said with a shrug pulling a crossbow from her weapons bag and setting it on the nightstand. "You know just in case."

"Don't get yourself in a sleepwalk Slayer and aim that thing the wrong way, huh?" Spike said, dropping to the worn arm chair near the door, kicking his feet up on a mismatched ottoman. His tone was light, but his eyes were distant, the jovial mood set from the abrupt snow fight was gone as he lit up a cigarette.

Buffy ignored him and pulled the blankets up to her chin and settled comfortably next to Willow, a smile crossing her mouth before drifting into sleep with a speed that Willow envied.

Willow wasn't tired. She watched Spike with keen interest behind lowered lids. His face was hard, his hand gripping the arms of the chair, as his cigarette dangled haphazardly from his lips. He was watching them, Willow realized, her and Buffy.

Willow felt a sadness tug at heart upon his stare especially when Buffy snuggled in closer to her. Buffy's arm draped across Willow's waist, and Spike looked trodden, defeated even but it didn't last for long.

He caught Willow's look and his face went blank. He looked away from the girls, moving to undo his boots before reaching for his snow dampened shirt and pulling it off.

The expanse of Spike's chest distracted Willow, the jagged cuts that were so predominant across his body were now nothing but scratches fading quickly. Again earlier events tiptoed through her head and she wondered what it was that had gone on between Buffy and Spike, setting the morose tone of the morning.

Uneasily Willow looked away from him and towards the locked bookcase, the titles unreadable in the darkness, but she looked anyway, her teeth digging nervously into her bottom lip. She wondered for the first time what kind of demon had attacked them. She had never seen it before, had never come across it during the many research sessions in her past. What kind of creature was it that left Spike so weak, unable to heal as he normally would have, and was it just run of the mill type A blood that pulled him through when pig's blood couldn't.

Willow shook her head, the heavy weight of exhaustion pushing her thoughts away as her eyelids fluttered closed.

"It's not that bad Buffy." Willow said looking around with a shrug of her shoulders.

"It is that bad, this place sucks. This place created suckage, besides it's really creepy." Buffy responded with an exaggerated shudder.

"And this comes from the girl who's been on intimate terms with creepy." Willow shook her head and reached for the door of the five and dime.

"Hey. What's that supposed to mean?" Buffy asked grabbing onto the door as Willow entered the store.

The town wasn't creepy, it was small and it made Sunnydale look like Metropolis and maybe Willow and Buffy stood out like sore thumbs, but it wasn't creepy. They were just pretty noticeable so people stared. Plus you know, Willow thought, Buffy, she'd stare too.

Which broached topics she didn't really want to ponder, plus the afternoon was going so nicely. Sunlight liability meant Spike didn't get to tag along, not that Willow really thought he'd wanted to, he'd given them a short grunt and pulled the covers back over his head as they left.

He'd somehow winded up on the bed with them during the early hours of the morning, which sort of struck Willow as bizarre. Just the fact alone that she was sleeping deeply enough that another person could get in the queen sized bed with out her knowing was bad enough. Add to it Spike's trampled look before she fell asleep, not to mention the weirdness that was Buffy and Spike in general and hey, maybe it wasn't that bizarre after all.

Either way it was nice just hanging with Buffy, it'd been a long time since they'd done that. The visit to town wasn't purely R and R. Buffy had likened it to recon, checking out the lay of the land and the like. Plus they had to pick up a few vital supplies, girl stuff like shampoo and tampons and other less girly, less human, stuff like blood for Spike.

Which Willow was in a bit of a fix about. The town really did remind her of Mayberry, what would the local butcher say to two strangers coming in wanting a week's supply of animal blood? Willow didn't think it would sit well, but Buffy didn't seem too worried about it, which was just like her.

"Hello to the super mongo industrial sized box of tampons." Buffy huffed hefting the box up into her arms.

"Well maybe people don't get their shopping on a lot out here, hence big everything, like Costco's or something. It's pretty rural. Like a movie, you know where the family piles into the pick up for their weekly venture into town. Ma and Pa in the front seat, Sally and Billy in the truck bed with Rover." Willow supplied helpfully.

"Of course." Buffy agreed reaching for a bottle of shampoo and handing it to Willow, "This okay? They don't have my brand. They don't even have my reserve brand."

"I don't so much have a brand." Willow took the bottle and absently pondered it's ingredients as they rounded the corner and headed towards the check out, "Hey I just thought of something."

"I've never lived with a guy before unless you count my dad and I don't cause he's my dad and all –"

"I'm babbling, I get that but I have a point. I've never lived with a guy, I stayed at Oz's a few times but that hardly constitutes a living with a guy thing."

"Spike's a guy, right, I mean sort of –" Willow started when Buffy cut in again.

"Oh wait! This isn't gonna' be one of male species finds econo size box of tampon references, is it?"

"He's like a hundred and thirty years old Will," Buffy said lowering her voice when the woman in front of them turned and gave her a strange look, "Most of which he spent living with a woman."

"One who didn't breathe," Willow punctuated emphatically, "And hence did not –"

The girls made their way to the car, one neither of them were exactly proficient at driving. Which was what Willow would have to do after the trip to the Butcher's. They'd agreed on it before they left, Buffy drove to town and Willow drove back.

"I don't know actually. I don't know much about him, it's just sometimes..." She stopped drifting off before shaking her head, pulling the keys from her pocket she handed them to Willow.

"Just so you don't try to one up me out of driving when we're done at the butcher's." She finished slinging an arm around Willow's waist companionably, sending a small shiver up Willow's body.

"Slayer charisma. Hand the man a note, look really intimidating, get blood." Buffy shrugged locking her seatbelt into place.

"Except for the intimidating bit because you didn't, at all." Willow checked the rearview mirror and pulled out of the parking space, "Besides it's not like that man knows you're the Slayer, or what a Slayer is, or the punch you wallop in your fist when people get you all with the angry."

"Because you kick ass?" Willow questioned turning onto the stretch of roadway that would lead them back to the cabin.

"It sounds better when you put it that way, besides it's not like I always go Slayer girl to get things done." Buffy stopped and then added, "Anymore."

"Still," Willow pressed, "I thought there'd be some stares of 'hey you're out of your noggin', what with quarts of pigs blood not being a usual delicatessen."

"So Giles knows 'Sam the Butcher'? Which you know, a little weird and unnerving." Willow frowned. She didn't like the fact that a perfectly complete stranger knew anything about them.

"Sometimes you personify wigginess, you know that right?" Buffy asked digging through her purse for the five dollar sunglasses she had picked up at the Woolworth's.

The temperature seemed to drop at least ten degrees by the time they got back to the cabin. Spike was also no longer asleep. He was sitting at the table nursing a cup of coffee, one of the many things the small pantry was stocked with when they arrived. He'd obviously just gotten out of the shower, his hair was wet and messy and, Willow thought, a nice improvement.

He didn't look up, not even when Buffy ruffled a hand through his hair, something that made him jolt both uncomfortably and not.

"Sporting shower hair. I like." Buffy said flippantly, a small frown on her face.

"Buffy." Spike greeted, taking a drink from his coffee before looking at Willow, "Will."

"Spike." Willow answered back uncomfortably. She didn't like the way he was looking at her. It wasn't anything specific and not something she could put a finger on precisely but it made her uncomfortable.

"No. Pig's blood, from the butcher's." She interrupted placing a container on the table in front of him "We got a week's supply, so you should be okay for a while, huh?"

"Peachy, Dove." Spike responded dully loosening the lid and placing the container in the microwave.

Willow felt the tension before she heard it, before she even saw it. That was the way it was with Buffy. The air in the room would get so thick until it felt like everything would combust and something usually did, Buffy.

"God Spike this is getting so old." Buffy hissed her hand slamming against the table.

Willow backed away from the pair and chewed her lip nervously when Spike looked up at Buffy, his mouth twisted in a jeer.

"Is it Love?" He hissed smoothly ignoring the beep of the microwave, his arms stiffly crossing against his chest.

"Guys," Willow interrupted awkwardly not sure where else to go but knowing an otherwise okay day had been shot to shambles. "Um. Things? A little uncomfortable."

Willow watched as Buffy slowly looked away from Spike, her eyes dark and dangerous, lips in a thin line of displeasure, which Willow admitted was slightly better than seething anger.

Willow knew none of it was pointed at her but she was still uncomfortable until Buffy's mouth softened, "Will? Remember," She began her voice taking on an exaggerated note, her eyes moving to the door, "How you, um, you said that the...trees, yes trees, outside might make with the good when it comes to some spells you wanted to work on?"

"Trees?" Willow asked, her brow scrunching in confusion, "I've never heard," She stopped as Buffy widened her eyes and looked towards the door again, "Oh trees. Yes. You know leaves and stuff, which I should go and investigate because, um they could be helpful."

"Trees?" Spike snorted wirily finally reaching for the container from the microwave.

"Trees." Willow answered indignantly, "Yes trees, some of them have magical potency, all mother nature-y and their leaves..."

"None of them have much in the way of leaves, Love." Spike quipped pulling the lid off his heated blood.

"Magical sap. Sounds neat." He continued coolly, "And not at all like a ploy for the Slayer to get her thrashing in with out an audience, can't let a Scoob in on the real McCoy after all, can we Pet? What you and I really are?" He finished, his gaze back on Buffy with such single minded determination that Willow stepped back away from the pair. Her curiosity about what had happened between Spike and Buffy abolished underneath the weight of their stares trained on each and each other alone.

Willow frowned and looked out into the virtual wasteland surrounding the cabin. Spike was right, there weren't a lot of leaves on the trees. Not that Willow was actually looking for leaves or sap or anything equally stupid, or that anyone had bought the silly charade to begin with.

Sighing Willow decided that the trees weren't the only things that seemed so barren, everything looked sort of desolate in the burgeoning nightfall. The frosty weather didn't help any, the snow that had seemed so magical before was now only gray slush. Shivering she wished she'd grabbed the car keys when she'd left the two of them alone. At least then she could make use of the car's heater, or even leave.

Willow looked towards the door. Everything seemed pretty quiet in the cabin. She hadn't heard anything that resembled dust falling, if dust falling actually was sound worthy, to the ground or strings of colorful obscenity coming from inside, both trademarks of Buffy and Spike's anger.

The biting cold won out, her hand reached for the door knob. Slowly she pushed the door open stopping when a moan broke from Buffy's mouth. Apprehensively she looked into the dark cabin and saw Buffy sitting astride Spike on the bed. His arms were wrapped tightly, possessively, around her body and they were kissing.

Buffy let out another smaller moan. Willow's face fell at the repeated sound because it wasn't a bad moan. They usually weren't after all. She shouldn't feel hurt. The kiss with Buffy was like the clothes fluke with Xander, but a snow fluke. It was a strictly one time deal. So why did she feel like someone had just dropped the anvil of doom on her head?

Buffy, completely and unequivocally straight, had kissed her and now she was kissing Spike.

The last thing Willow wanted was to be noticed by either of them, especially when she was sure her emotions were written across her face quite coherently. She moved to close the door but stopped leaving it ajar at an inch when Spike pulled away from Buffy.

"I'm strong Spike, stronger than ever, but I still need you on my side. It had to happen and you know it. Slayer resistance is an amazing thing and I heal quickly. Plus it was inevitable," Her voice lightened, "vamps the world over are unable to resist my charms."

"The world over?" Spike asked quietly, his hand reaching for a tangle of Buffy's hair, twisting it around his finger.

"Maybe not the world over." Buffy agreed when lips that Willow had found exquisitely soft leaned in for a tiny peck against Spike's forehead.

Willow smiled sadly at seeing the two of them together and so uncharacteristically tender with each other. A ping of envy mounted itself inside her but she didn't look away.

"So we're over this. Right?" Buffy asked, "It was my decision and one I don't regret. My plate? Forever full, I don't want one more thing added to it."

"Slayer." Spike hissed looking down. Willow could see him perfectly, his face working through a myriad of emotions, mostly of guilt and self loathing. Things Willow was well acquainted with, things that made her soften the slightest bit towards the vampire.

Willow couldn't see Buffy's face but she wandered what the Slayer was giving away, knowing that she very seldom let anything out but when she did, oh when she did, she could make whoever she was with feel like the most important person on the planet.

"No." Buffy interrupted, "Things are quiet now and they haven't been for a long time. We. We need to rest. And Willow is doing so much better –" Spike stiffened at the mention of Willow's name, enough that even the redhead peeking through a crack in the door could see, no feel, the tension.

Buffy noticed it too, and Willow closed her eyes against the sight, the way the Slayer's shoulders squared before picking back up and glossing over Spike's reaction. "Will is doing so much better. So can we just not Spike?"

"God Buffy," Spike whispered, his voice so needy, so amazed that it jarred Willow's eyes open.

Willow's face fell at Buffy's slow gesture, fingers tugging at the buttons of her flannel shirt until her skin, still bronzed from the California sunshine, lit up the room in the amber tinted darkness.

She watched Spike's face fall into amazement and knew exactly what he felt. Suddenly she was in kinship once again with this demon, this vampire, Spike.

"You do these things to try frustrate me, right?" Buffy asked him quietly, her teeth tugging at her lip as Spike's mouth drifted across her body, his hands gripping the flesh of her back.

"Didn't know I had to try." Spike answered quietly as Buffy lowered her hands to his zipper.

The sound echoed across the cabin out into the dull night and quietly Willow righted the door shut.

Spike made Buffy happy. Willow resigned herself with the thought and wiped back the tears that were beginning to gather across her cheeks before settling herself on the porch steps, the cold no longer an issue.

Willow sat with her knees drawn to her chin, looking up at the starlit sky she thought of Tara. The stars were amazing and prettier than anything Willow had ever seen. Tara used to talk about how the star's shone in the summertime in Alabama. She said it was flawless and the only thing that was perfect for a long time after her mother died.

Thinking about Tara like this always brought a happy, comfy feeling to Willow. It took away the guilt and the pain.

Star watching, she felt like she was sharing something with Tara. Like no matter where Tara was, she was watching the same stars.

"Look Baby," Willow whispered not noticing the new tears that were dampening her cheeks, "The Big Pineapple. You said it was better with out the smog, but I didn't know. I didn't. It's so pretty Sweetie."

Sniffling she looked away from the sky, her fingers plucking at a loose thread in her shirt cuff, "I miss you so much Sweetie, so much and it hurts like I'm dying with out you," She looked back at the sky, "But we have the stars, God they're beautiful baby."

"You'll catch your death out here." Spike's interrupted, his voice shocking Willow from her thoughts, the tiny bond she was certain she had with Tara disappeared at his approach.

"You scared me." Willow answered, wrapping her arms around her body, straightening out her knees, a frown settling across her face. She tried to bite back the envy upon looking at him.

"Talking to your bird?" He asked sitting down next to her, shrugging off his coat.

"What? No." Willow denied, refusing to allow him to share Tara's memory, too precious to give to anyone.

"Take my coat, not like I have to worry about pneumonia, is it?" Spike handed her his jacket she took it reluctantly.

"The Summer that Buffy," He paused and cleared his throat, "The summer she was gone I used to sit on the back porch, long after the Niblet had gone off to bed, and have conversations with Buffy. I'd go on about the different ways I should have saved her, or how I missed the smell of her shampoo and how sodding grateful I was that the Bit used a different brand."

"Rubbish, I know," Spike shrugged his shoulders and pulled out a cigarette, "Wherever Buffy was I wasn't good enough to consort with her, didn't have a chance. You're lucky that way."

"Well, yeah. I didn't have a chance, come hell or high water, talking to the Slayer where she was, I knew it, didn't stop me, but I knew it." He tossed another useless match that wouldn't light to the ground.

"Persistence." Willow nodded numbly pulling the lighter she stuffed into her jeans pocket a few nights ago out and handing it to him.

"Had this the whole time, Pet?" He asked flipping it open drawing the flame to his cigarette.

Willow ignored his question, taking a long drag off his cigarette and blowing a cloud of smoke into the crispy air, he picked back up, "Persistence doesn't count for a lot. Could've talked to her every night and damned nearly did, she still wouldn't hear me." He paused and looked at Willow pointedly, "Bet your bird catches every word you whisper her way."

"Bollocks you aren't. You're a slight better than me, most times." He answered quietly.

They sat in silence on the porch as Spike finished his cigarette. Tossing it to the ground he stood up and reached for her hand, "Wasn't kidding about you catching your death."

"Asleep, she was knackered out." Spike tilted his head looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to get up.

"I'm sure she was." Willow answered, the tremble that had begun earlier releasing itself into a single hiccupping sob.

She heard him sigh tiredly before dropping down next to her, a hint of his old bravado slipped through when he said, "Tell me Will, this thing, you wanting Buffy, this what you been puffed up about the last few weeks?"

"God! You're impossible!" She cried, looking at him, taking in his practiced smirk she rolled her eyes, "But you don't fool me. You're more than impossible but I don't need a villain, you don't have to be mean."

"Everyone needs a villain Kitten." He replied quietly taking the seat he had forfeited minutes ago, "Sides, I'm good at it."

"Spike." Willow started but stopped when Spike hushed her, a finger pressing softly across her lips before he picked up.

"Love's a bitch. It's a nice ride, the best, but it's a fucking bitch, in'it?" He questioned pulling out another cigarette.

"After Dru made me," He began against Willow's incredulous stare. She'd always thought Angel was responsible for the conflicting co-dependent mess in front of her.

"I loved her, she was my black pearl. A hundred plus years and she never stopped surprising me, never made me stop feeling. Never had to think about things with Drusilla, not for a good while at any rate, just had to feel. One of the few perks of being what I was, never had to think about things, just feel 'em."

"Drusilla loved Angel. Used to burn me the way she'd look at him sometimes, make me wretch it did. Angel made her after all, she was his and I was lucky to get what I got from her. He made that clear when I was in his bed."

"Wasn't long before I started wanting him not like Dru did but still wanting him. He was our sire after all, much as he didn't make me. He was a legend then you know. I wasn't much more than a fledge and Drusilla was everything but Angelus was the master. He was such a sodding mean prick, bastard, still liked to be in his bed though."

He shrugged and lit his cigarette, "You got something on me Pet. It ain't about comparing. Sides sometimes it's just about talking, right?"

Willow understood. He was giving her leverage, letting her in on a secret so she'd have something on him, something that would let her talk.

"Spike." Willow cried, bringing her hands to her face wiping away the tears that had been forming since he'd come outside.

"You don't have to be all nice you know," Willow hiccupped, "Having a soul doesn't mean you have to be nice."

"I'm not nice, neither are you," He paused, "Best not to forget it I suppose, either one of us."

"Been singing it for years, haven't I? You just now getting it?" Spike asked mockingly.

"You make her smile, when you aren't making her want to kill you." Willow ventured her hand wiping absently at her nose, "You get her all life sparky. How?"

"Same way you do Love." He began, "She's a stubborn bint, our Slayer, takes a while but things get through eventually, don't they?"

"Why are you being like this?" Willow asked again suspiciously, "Suddenly you're the neighborhood vamp of understanding?"

"I'm not saying it's bad, just different." Willow sighed leaning in closer to him.

He smelt like cigarettes. He also smelt like a man, not in a caveman 'me Tarzan' way, but like Oz or Xander. Men, Willow thought, had something in them that was distinct and linked them together. It was a scent, underlying and not automatically noticeable but present in all of them. It wasn't bad, just something she'd forgotten about.

It was different with girls; they were unique, at least to Willow's nose. With her eyes closed Willow could never imagine Buffy was Tara, not because they used different soaps or perfumes, they were just instinctually different. Maybe it was something that purposefully set women apart from the other sex. Marking them as individuals to men and to each other? Willow didn't know.

But she did know there was something slightly comfortable in this old familiarity. It might not be exactly what she wanted, but it was nice.

Looking up at him she tugged his chin down and brushed her lips across his, "Thank you."

"Thank you." She whispered again, her lips lingering until she felt him press back. She hadn't planned this, didn't really want it, but it somehow seemed okay or right.

"Will." Spike groaned, but he sounded so bleak, she almost pulled away but didn't her teeth tugging gently at his bottom lip. Then his arm latched onto her waist, his fingers pressed into her skin and she felt wanted.

He wasn't stopping; he wasn't pulling away. His free hand was latching onto her nape and fingers that had wrapped themselves in Buffy's hair were now tangling in hers. She shivered and pulled the vampire ever closer, eyes closed she left his lips and trailed slowly down his neck, tasting the familiar, lapping at what was new. He tasted like smoke, salt and lingering death, and the familiar honeysuckle that meant Buffy.

"So is this what the two of you get up to when I'm sleeping?" Buffy's voice drifted from the doorway, Willow stilled against Spike's neck. Her eyes closed she refused to open them. Her fingers gripped the wool of Spike's sweater tightly. He didn't push her away but she felt him slump underneath her nonetheless.

"No rest for the wicked I suppose." Buffy sighed from the doorway and Willow bit her own lip, the tears that hadn't quite stopped renewed themselves with vigorous spirit.

Willow couldn't open her eyes, or let loose of Spike no matter how much she wanted to. She was grateful that he hadn't thrown her to the wolves. He loved Buffy, maybe as much as she did and it'd be an easy thing to do. Instead his hand loosened in her hair, his fingers lightly stroking.

"Will?" Buffy began. Willow could hear the pads of her feet against the cold plywood porch as she moved closer to them. "It's okay Will."

Then Spike was gone and it was Buffy's hands tangled in her hair, the flannel of Buffy's shirt that she gripped, Buffy's pulse beneath her cheek.

"Buffy?" She asked tentatively lifting her face taking in the blonde, who looked down at her tiredly, dreamily.

"It's okay." She repeated, a sleepy smile on her lips. Willow could have sworn it all a dream if the smoke from Spike's cigarette wasn't wrapping itself around her.

Everything was suddenly and vividly real. The cold bit her skin like knives and Buffy seemed a million miles away for all that she was next to Willow.

"It's not. It's not okay..." Willow cried and pulled herself from Buffy's grasp, passing Spike as she bolted for the door.

"So the deal is that we don't always have to be brave, right?" Willow cringed as Buffy stepped into the room, alone, closing the door behind her. "That was the deal right?"

"How long were you there?" Willow peeked reluctantly out from underneath the blankets, "Were you there the whole time?"

"Not that long," Buffy shrugged her shoulders and moved to the foot of the bed and sat down, "So I'm stubborn?"

"Occasionally maybe." Buffy said tugging on Willow's foot through the blankets, "Hey Will, come on."

"No. I'm mortified. That's what I am. Mortified." Willow replied, the blankets muffling her voice.

"No, wrongness definite wrongness. No, partly but no. Everything else." Willow cried drawing her knees to her chin, "Oh Buffy everything is just turning out so wrong. I'm afraid that when all of this is over that..." She stopped resting her forehead on her knees not exactly sure how to continue and not certain she wanted to anyway.

"What Will?" Buffy asked crawling up to the head of the bed until she sat next to Willow her hand reaching out tentatively to Willow's closing over it hesitantly at first.

"I,I," Willow continued slowly, stifling a cry, "Don't have a lot left Buffy and you're like my it and I don't want that to go away too."

"I'm not going anywhere." Buffy answered confidently pulling Willow's hand to her lap.

"And hello to the badness," Willow interrupted sitting up, "I'm like the world's worse best friend."

"And now you're making fun." Willow squeaked trying to tug her hand away from Buffy's grasp.

"Hey you said it first." Buffy joked holding firmly to Willow's hand before frowning, "Out there? That doesn't matter Will. You have to know how that doesn't matter to like the hundredth degree."

"It should." Willow stopped struggling with Buffy's hold but turned away from her nonetheless.

"You'd think, huh?" Buffy asked liked she was amazed that it suddenly didn't, "Listen Will, I don't know what Spike is to me, I don't. He's something. I know that much now, something a lot more than I'd thought before but I know what you are, okay?"

"That's just it," Willow looked at her. She felt like her heart was on open display but she bit down the shake that was beginning to traipse through her body, "I don't, I don't know what you are to me anymore."

"No," Willow interrupted, "I know I couldn't stand losing you, not on top of everything else. It's been so long since Tara, I don't have Xander anymore, ever again, and you're what's left. You, you're all that's left and that's like the world to me and I don't want to lose you. But I don't know what you are to me anymore Buffy."

Willow looked down for a second at Buffy's brightening smile, she didn't want to be teased or blown off. She wanted resolution, no matter how it ended.

"Sometimes? It's okay to be brave." Buffy said quietly pulling Willow's hand to her lips, she kissed it lightly and looked back up, "Sometimes it's okay."

"Buffy?" Willow asked her eyes wide, her heart thudding against her chest. She felt a hundred years away from the scene, watching it as a spectator when Buffy said, "I know what you are to me."

Willow was surprised at what she did next, she pulled Buffy to her, much like she did with Spike and kissed her, despite the trembling in her body, the lightness in her head. Buffy didn't tug away.

Willow couldn't think about what would happen next. The weird haze she'd felt on the porch with Buffy and Spike returned and her hand snaked behind Buffy and pulled the blonde closer to her.

Her hand traveled up the Slayer's flannel covered thigh with ease, resting at the patch of skin peeking out above Buffy's waistband. The blonde gave out an audible start at the contact but didn't move away.

"This can be part of what you are." Buffy answered back reaching for the buttons of Willow's pajama top, "Because you're a lot more."

Willow woke up, a sleepy smile on her face. The room was still dark but snippets of light sheathed their way through the tiny breaks in the curtains.

She looked over at Buffy, not quite sure whether any of it was a dream or not, as she took the Slayer's nude body in. She'd seen Buffy naked before of course, tends to happen when you're friends with someone for so long, there was gym class and sleepovers. Not too mention the various first aid projects through out the years that entailed being the Slayers best friend. She'd just never looked at her before, really looked at her anyway.

Last night wasn't so much about the looking as it was about the touching and the tasting. Willow quivered at the memory closing her eyes against the picture of Buffy's skin, smooth, flawless and sun kissed.

How Buffy felt underneath her fingers, precious and beloved and powerful. Stronger than even Willow could have imagined, a body that moved with unimaginable flexible grace, power with every touch.

Soft, sweet sweeping touches, Willow sighed opening her eyes, drinking Buffy in again. So small, so lithe, so powerful, from her painted pearl covered toenails, that had shimmied and scratched Willow's back, to the tangible strength of her slim thighs, that fitted so perfectly across her shoulders.

Willow tasted Buffy anew eyeing the sweet silky patch of hair that she'd tangled her fingers in so contentedly in last night. Oh and the slick moist taste of Buffy against her lips, with sweet soft kisses, the lingering taste in her mouth even now.

Willow moved closer to her slayer, the sweet swell of her belly, soft, she remembered her hands there for hours, Buffy's giggles. Willow hadn't heard Buffy smart like that in years.

"Should I stop?" Willow had asked, her lips replacing fingers, her tongue dancing across tanned skin.

"God no Will, don't you dare." Buffy answered back, her words catching in her throat.

Yes, Willow sighed placing a soft kiss against the belly she loved, Buffy smiling in her sleep at the contact.

Willow's gaze moved up to Buffy's breasts, small but utterly perfect, like they were meant for her hands alone. Willow didn't have to look at Buffy now to see the girl arch into her touch, her nipples hardening against Willow's fingers.

The feel, the taste of Buffy was ingrained into her memory. She could be blinded now and always have this, Willow thought with a smile, but she wasn't, and she would use every spec of light to take the Slayer in now. Willow's hand moved towards the tangle of hair that was covering Buffy's face, and tugged it gently away, uncovering the smooth line of jaw, the graceful curve of her neck.

Smiling shyly Willow lay next to Buffy, catching her hair in her fingers, wrapping the golden tresses around her fingers, watching the rise and fall of Buffy's chest as she slept.

This was perfection, Willow thought, and it had been so long. She'd had it before with Tara, but this was uniquely different, just as wonderful and special, but still separate enough that Tara held onto her sacred spot.

A new one had been created for Buffy. Willow leaned in her lips moving to Buffy's uncovered neck and she stilled in horror. Her hand moving to her own throat, she'd missed this before, a part of Buffy she hadn't uncovered.

Two healing but fresh puncture wounds darted Buffy's skin, sending Willow's stomach sinking she backed away from the Slayer, holding a gasp still between her lips, a knowing panic fluttered through her body.

Willow woke from the hazy glow, from the sanctity of seeing Buffy as she had the night before. The euphoria was dimmed and Willow was suddenly aware of another presence in the room. She moved to cover Buffy, her hand reaching for another blanket, threading it across her own naked body before Spike spoke.

"She knows I'm here. Not playing peeking Tom. Came in after you two...the sun and all." Spike supplied from the corner softly before continuing, his hands fingering an old book, "Saw you eyeing those books the other night," Willow's gaze fluttered to the opened bookcase.

"Surprised you put your Nancy Drewin' on hold long as you did." Spike tossed the book gently towards the bed, it bounced landing at Willow's feet, "Here."

Willow felt sick, her hands reached absently for the ancient text. Her fingers flipped through its yellowing pages, with an unsteady tremble before she spoke quietly, "You bit her."

Frowning Willow stood, her hands clutching the blanket she moved towards Spike, giving Buffy a quick look as the Slayer turned to her side. The blankets and sheets Willow had covered her with tangling around her limbs.

"You fed from her." Willow repeated her voice a hushed whisper, "You bit her. Buffy."

"Wasn't my place to tell you." Spike started slowly looking toward the floor away from Willow's hold.

"Not really an option now," Willow responded bitterness in her voice, "You fed from her. That's why you..." Willow stopped and looked Buffy "Angel. Angel almost killed her when –"

"Because, let me guess, she made you, right? She was all with the neck baring?" Willow cried quietly, her free hand moving to her belly as her stomach churned against something new, something more than the bite.

"He was right," Willow shrugged, her brow wrinkling as the pain in her belly spread through out her body, tickling her fingertips cruelly.

"Xander." Willow breathed out roughly, dread mixing with the energy crackling through her body. "God." She whispered softly, looking away from him, down into the floorboards.

Angrily she swatted it away and looked back up at him, her eyes dark. "A parasite. He called you a parasite. And you are.

"Maybe so." He answered edging closer to her, magic, dancing like electricity, hissed across her skin.

"Willow." He tried again, his hand reaching out, touching bare flesh until he was flung back against the wall.

Willow tensed, as part of her seemed to chip away, she felt it all, crawling in her skin. It would never end. It would never die. She couldn't stop it and for all the world she knew how Oz felt, finally knew. She had no say now, no control, she was angry and her anger needed an outlet.

God how quickly it took her, she thought mournfully, all her pain, everything piling to the surface, her power still useless for all it would do now, tipped to her pores and took her over.

It wasn't hers to control, she smarted and looked up at Spike, part of her wanting to shimmy away and leave him, the other part, the stronger part wonder how'd it feel to crush him into dust with out a fingertip so much as caressing his dead skin.

"It's everything. I'm everything." She told Spike, looking up at him through ebony eyes, "Everything and you fed from her and I owe you death."

"Willow. No." Buffy's voice came from behind her, like a whispered breath against her neck caressing her, "Willow. Please."

Willow's hands reached for her forehead, her grip on the blanket loosening, it slipped from her body and pooled at her feet. She felt herself slipping ands she fought against the power cackling around her as she shakily turned to the Slayer.

She was aware of the tears on her cheeks, they burned like fire, but her soul was still dark and all she could offer up to this girl that she loved was, "It's all I am."

"It is not all that you are." Buffy answered, her fists balling in constraint as she moved closer to Willow, her face hard, her body strong.

"Maybe so." Willow smirked, "Didn't give it to you good enough the last time, huh? You want more Buff?."

"Will." Buffy whispered her hand reaching out to touch Willow's fevered skin, causing the Witch to skirt back.

"Don't touch me." Willow hissed, her arms circling around her body, "You shouldn't..." She faltered, her brow wrinkling in confusion, "I, I don't deserve you...this is all that I am."

"It is not who you are," Buffy began, her tone strong and resolute, " You're Willow. My Willow. You got that? That's who you are. And you are beautiful, you are good, Willow."

"No." Willow cried out, not fighting Buffy back as she wrapped her arms around her, instead tumbling into the Slayers sturdy frame, "I'm not Buffy," She looked up at the blonde, as she felt the misery of the energy subside back inside of her, a sharp sting, a steady ache, "I'm not."

"You're precious." Buffy responded quietly, falling to the ground with Willow's pull until the two were tangled limbs and hiccupping cries.

Willow looked towards the vampire she'd wanted to finish, with blurry eyesight, as Buffy's hands stroked her back, her mouth whispering sweet words into her ears. She was so grateful that he was standing there. Hands stuffed into his pockets watching both of them keeping his pace far and distanced from the two girls. Willow smiled at him sadly before pressing her face into Buffy's neck, the shame that would be forever hers lessening with ever sweet touch Buffy bestowed upon her.

"I didn't want to tell her, it wasn't my place. She doesn't know everything." Spike's voice slithered through Willow's head waking her from the exhaustion that still clung to her body. Her whole entire being ached with the pain of her magic, and Spike's voice riddled her with thoughts of what she almost did bringing the anguish back to the surface.

She gripped Buffy's sheet covered hip tightly, but kept her eyes closed the tension in her body anew and strong.

As if Buffy noticed this, her hands tangled into Willow's hair, trying to smooth away the pain before she spoke to Spike, " What happened after me and you in the hallway? Not the most opportune time in retrospect, but there was nothing bad about it."

"God," Buffy laughed, her belly vibrating against Willow's head, "What is it with me and the people I love anyway?"

"I don't love monsters." Buffy answered him simply, her mouth pressing against Willow's hair in a soft kiss, stirring the Witch's eyes open.

It was a mistake, that night at the motel. You never should have...and you shouldn't have let me, not after..." Spike whispered, rising from the bed and moving towards the kitchen.

"Again probably not the best time but I don't regret it." Buffy muttered, "And last night, was that a mistake Spike?"

Buffy scooted down the bed, gently tugging Willow up her body, until Willow rested against her side, her face almost pillowing Buffy's breasts. Buffy smiled at Willow, a cross between something sweet and loving and something like hurried want. The same kind of want that pooled low in Willow's belly.

Willow stood in the shower. The water was hot as it washed over her body. She was weary and she was tired, she ached from the things she could've done when she lost control, the things she was capable of.

Behind the heavy dread lay a tiny flutter that Willow couldn't describe. Her body burned and not just from the water or the residue of magic.

She closed her eyes. Her hand drifting lower down her body, past her dark curls, into her slick wetness, she bit her lip and let out a small cry. The memory of the morning rushed through her, her fingers, first one and then two, moved inside her sending shivering sparks up across her skin.

Spike had moved back to the bed, silent and sullen, and settled his cup of coffee on the bedside table and didn't answer Buffy's question. It was obvious by the firm line of his mouth and the glaring sadness in his eyes that he hadn't thought it was a mistake, for all he regretted it. He frowned when Buffy reached for him, pulling him by the cough of his shirt closer towards her until he snuggled against the side of her opposite from Willow.

Willow didn't begrudge him this closeness to Buffy, after knowing it first hand, but she looked away nevertheless, her fingers absently circling a pattern across Buffy's belly, the one that she loved.

"Will," Buffy had hissed, reaching for the Witch's chin and tilting it up until they both looked at each other.

Buffy's eyes were wide, wanton even if Willow could make a stretch to use that word outside of a comical context.

But Buffy hadn't said anything else just lowered her mouth to Willow's, kissing her, in front of Spike, who looked on, with a sadness that Willow was getting used to seeing in his eyes.

Buffy pulled away, moving her mouth to Willow's throat, then to the dip of her collarbone, until her tongue found Willow's nipples, bringing them to hardened peeks.

"Buffy." Willow had moaned, her eyes darting towards Spike, surprised by the glow in his blue orbs until she saw Buffy's hand against his thigh.

"Buffy!" Willow cried pulling away from the sweet attentions of the Slayer, "What are we –" She started shaking her head at a loss for words, flushed and hot.

Their eyes clamped down on each other, green against blue and it was no longer Buffy's place to offer them up to each other. They took each other in, confusion, fear even a small want passed between them, until Willow nodded her head, giving Spike the permission he hadn't sought until Buffy nudged them both towards it.

"Oh." Willow cried out, her fingers pumping against her heated flesh, water cascading down her body.

She played the events out again in her mind, her body reacting to her own ministrations and to the memory of first Buffy's and then Spike's.

What had been gentle her first time with Buffy turned primal and dangerous the second time when the bed was shared with Spike.

But Spike, Willow's hand reached out against the tiled bathroom walls, he'd been the opposite, smoothing and soft, like Buffy had been the night before.

Willow bit back her confusion and focused on remembering the sensations of Buffy and Spike against her body. Her arousal took over, wiping worry and shame from her mind. She rose to her tiptoes, her fingers thrusting madly, her thumb worrying against her clit until she stifled a scream, her body shaking in pleasure.

Slowly she slid to the floor of the shower, her breath in uneven gasps as she buried her face in her hands trying to reconcile everything that happened as her pleasure ebbed.

Willow peeked out around the bathroom door. The room was empty and dark. It smelt like sex and cigarette smoke. Her stomach recoiled but she pressed on. Wrapping her wet hair in a towel she moved to the bed and sat down reaching for a pair of discarded socks. The room was cold; she looked up and noticed the front door was open a bit. Bringing her hands to her eyes she pushed at her forehead, mimicking Giles. She braced herself and looked to the door again. She'd have to face them eventually, no matter how enticing the bathroom seemed right about now, she couldn't very well hide in there for however long they'd be stuck out here.

She pulled on her socks and straightened her shoulders. Standing up, her big toe thumped across the worn binder of the book Spike had tossed at her that morning, hours, years ago.

Curiously she picked it up and gave the jarred door a quick look. She sat back down and opened it to the page Spike had obviously wanted her to see, since the place had been saved with Spike's useless book of matches.

Willow nudged the door open with her foot and leaned against its frame, somehow not surprised to find only Spike there.

He didn't turn to look at her, just tossed his half smoked cigarette into the snow and waited.

"You knew what attacked us from the start, didn't you?" Willow asked her hand thumping against the book.

"You knew that whole week and you didn't tell us?" Willow questioned tugging the book underneath her arm and stepping onto the porch, her embarrassment and discomfort having dissipated after picking up the book.

"I mean Buffy wouldn't have known that the demon that attacked us was the same sort the Mayor had used against Angel." She paused, "That the toxins it produced wasn't concocted by magic but extracted from a demon."

"She couldn't have know, I didn't know and I'm the one who did the research those years ago. How did she find out?" Willow pressed.

Spike sighed and stretched back on the porch, shirtless underneath his jacket, his skin paled brightly in the darkness. "Didn't tell her Tulip, told you that already. Wasn't gonna' let Buffy, wasn't gonna' use her like that."

"How'd she find out then, I mean it's not like Buffy to go looking for answers in books, besides we didn't have any books –"

"Holy Christ Will," He cut in pulling himself up to his feet, wrapping an arm around one of the porch posts, "For someone so bleedin' smart, you're as daft as they come when you want to be. Rupe's realistic, as much as it pains all of us time to time," He drifted quietly before looking back at her, "Point is, he knows the baddies aren't for letting the Slayer alone, Hellmouth or not. He hates me, sooner see me dust than with Buffy but he loves the Slayer, knows she needs help."

Willow looked at him and tossed the book to the ground, still smarting from his insult, "What does that have to do with –"

"Bloody well everything you stupid sodding child!" He shouted and Willow skirted back her fists balling angrily, "Fuck all," He mumbled and stepped towards her, "Didn't mean that the way it came out Kitten," He pressed on reaching for one of her hands, she flinched back.

"Willow," He started quietly not retreating and Willow noticed how red his eyes were, how tired he looked. She didn't move away from him when he reached towards her, a thumb wiping at her tears he continued, "Rupe saw the benefit of having another player on Buffy's team, he knew I'd do what I had to, to protect her, to protect you."

"W-Where's Buffy?" Willow stuttered not pushing him away when he leaned into her his arms encircling her, if felt nice not to be alone, even if was just Spike.

"Finding out who we have to kill to get you girls back home this decade." He answered quietly.

Spike shrugged and turned away from her he leaned against the pillar, his bare toes inching over the ledge, "It's cold out here Red, best get inside 'til the Slayer gets back."

Willow sighed and bent down to pick up the book. She turned to go inside but stopped, her hand gripping the chipping wood of the door frame, "I-I'm kinda' sorry. You know about everything."

"No need Pet." Spike didn't turn towards her, just took out his Zippo and flicked the flame as he eyed the road.

Willow lay curled up in the bed, the wind was whipping up ferociously outside, lulling her to sleep but she fought it.

Her stomach clinched in anxiety, the intimacy with Buffy and Spike pushed to the furthest recesses of her mind, it was getting late. Buffy hadn't returned. She fought her exhaustion and her desire to pile herself out to the porch to keep sentinel with Spike.

She realized that was what he was doing, keeping watch, for Buffy, for anything that might be out there.

She felt hopeful when he mentioned home, hopeful until she realized Buffy still hadn't gotten back.

The sound of a car door closing echoed through the woods and around the cabin's sparse four walls. Willow's head shot up and she silently cursed herself for falling asleep. Before she had time to think about heading for the door she found herself on the porch watching Spike retreat into the darkness.

"Spike?" She called out cautiously. Eyes adjusting she squinted past the snow and barren trees until she saw Spike immerge from the darkness a bloodied sword in his hand and Buffy limping tiredly at his side.

"Ohgodohgodohgod." Willow whispered to herself taking the stairs in one step, the cold snow squished between her stocking footed toes as she ran to the pair.

She nearly tumbled over a fallen branch as she hurried to meet them. Spike gave her a small nod before Buffy looked up at her.

"Oh God Buffy. You're hurt." Willow panicked, her arm reaching underneath Buffy's, taking some of the weight from Spike, though he hardly needed the help.

"A couple –" Willow stopped when she met Spike's stare, not yet, he told her, not yet.

"Got 'em though. It was icky, oozy even." Buffy nodded her feet taking the steps into the cabin slowly.

"The sword can attest to that Slayer." Spike answered turning the slither of metal in his hand respectfully before tossing it across the porch with a loud thunk.

"My girl, she done good." Spike whispered, his free hand tucking Buffy's hair behind her ear as he and Willow steered the injured Slayer to the bed. "Should've come back for me before tangling with the baddies but she done good."

Spike kneeled at Buffy's side, taking one her hands in his as Willow scuttled around the room looking for the first aid kit. She opened Buffy's bag first and tossed the meager contents to the floor before she reached for her own. She found the kit tucked away beneath a pair of jeans.

Rushing back to Buffy's bedside she opened it, swabbing a cotton ball with alcohol she looked at Buffy, "This is gonna' sting."

Willow tossed away the bloody cotton balls and rolled the bandages back into neat balls, stuffing them back into the first aid kid. Setting it on the bedside table she looked up at Spike, the worry on her brow equally reflected on his.

Spike looked at her, she knew he was studying her stance. She dropped hands that had been resting against hips, and softened her face, "I need to know Spike." She whispered when he looked away from her, his hands pushing Buffy's hair out of her face.

"The Watcher," Spike began, "Buffy had only found out after you'd fallen asleep, after our little..." He drifted off, "After at any rate. She'd come back to get her weapons. Sun was still shinning and you were still sleeping. I had to stay behind."

"Rupert worked some of that mojo you're so good at," He paused a smirk barely crossing his face before he picked back up, "Summoned one of the portals, got in good with whoever it is that tugs the strings of your lot."

"Not the Almighty himself, Pet, imagine the swelling of Rupe's already swollen frontal globes at that one." Spike snorted shaking his head.

"No something I hadn't heard before, Powers of some sort, struck a bargain with them. Told 'em Buffy was a force of good, that she didn't deserve any of this."

"Wouldn't go that far, but they gave us an out. Not a nice out but an out." Spike shrugged leaning down placing a kiss against Buffy's forehead before looking back in Willow's direction.

"It'll probably be bloody and brutal," His hand gestured towards Buffy's battered form, "But it's an out."

"We just have to fight for it." He finished and stood up moving away from Buffy and Willow, heading towards the door, "Not like your lot isn't used to that."

"Our." Willow corrected sitting down on the bed taking Buffy's hand in hers, "Our lot."

It wasn't over yet, it was far from over, Willow knew as she lay tangled around the Slayer who was healing with the resiliency her title gave her.

"You'll win." Willow sighed her hand absently moving across Buffy's back avoiding on instinct her heavy but quickly fading bruises.

"We'll win. I can't fight this with out you guys, not with out you." Buffy looked up at Willow, her eyelids heavy with sleep and healing.

Willow bit back an excited smile, Buffy's words were, small as they are, more of a comfort than anyone could guess, she should be stern as much as she wanted to cradle Buffy in her arms and love her, the Slayer was hurt.

"You should be asleep Buffy." Willow frowned with practiced worry. "You know getting all Slayer-y with the good sleep vibes."

"I'm all about those vibes." Buffy yawned, laying her head against Willow's shoulder, her hand gripping the Witch's waist, "Sleep is good."

"Listen to the redhead." Spike called from the doorway, Buffy gave him a tired smile before closing her eyes and drifting back to sleep.

Willow watched Buffy contentedly for a few minutes, forgetting the usually overbearing presence of Spike on the other side of the room until she heard him shuffle across the floor.

She watched him with curiosity as he rifled through the weapons bag, gathering a collection of knives and daggers and an oil cloth in his arms. His face was passive, his features cloaked and hidden when he looked in her direction.

"Need to clean these, Slayer's not been taking care of her arsenal all good and proper like she should be." He told Willow quietly before stepping back outside onto the darkened porch.

Willow bent down, her lips delicately kissing Buffy's forehead before she rose from the bed. Grabbing her jacket, she shrugged it on and made her way towards the door. Opening it she stepped out into the cold.

Spike made no move to acknowledge her presence, a cigarette dangling from his mouth as his hands worked the cloth against the cool blade of a dagger that Willow knew once belonged to Faith.

Trembling at the stark memory Willow sat down next to the vampire. Sighing she slumped her shoulders and stared out into the blackness of the night, her breath trailing in the cold she spoke, "What's next?"

"Fighting, bloody good violent chaos most likely, the usual. We'll beat it." Spike answered with a shrug, tossing Faith's knife to the side before picking up another one.

"After?" Spike questioned, tugging his cigarette from his mouth and tossing it into the snow.

"I do." Spike tossed the oil rag and the knife to the side, "Not a secret." He finished looking at Willow, his hands resting awkwardly in his lap.

"Yeah." Willow sighed and looked back out towards the darkness, "So what's next?"

Spike chuckled at her question reaching for her hand like he needed to busy his own, "Don't know Tulip, not a mind reader, isn't that your gig?"

"Hey. Not fair there, Buster." Willow smarted threading her fingers through his and leaning against his shoulder, comfortable with the tiny gesture, the touch of the creature who loved Buffy as much as she did suddenly and unexplainably right.

They were so much alike Willow decided reluctantly, they wanted to be good, to be loved but their base instincts were not always rooted in right. It would always be a battle, for both of them.

Buffy kept them tempered, tethered and maybe it was wrong, relying on Buffy to keep their demons at bay. Wrong or not it was loving Buffy that kept the darkness back for both of them. Loving her and being loved.

Willow had no idea what would happen next, when they left this place, but for a few moments in the dark cold of Montana, Willow was okay, because she was loved and she was wanted.

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Petals

By Lanie

Copyright © 2003

lalana24@hotmail.com