Moments at the Graveside

by Dafmeister

Copyright © 2004

Dafmeister@hotmail.com

Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The Buffyverse is owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox and a bunch of other people who aren't me. No infringement of copyright is intended blah blah blah….
Distribution: The Mystic Muse http://mysticmuse.net
Anyone, anywhere, as long as they let me know.
Feedback: Please pretty please.
Spoilers: Doppelgangland.
Author's Note: This is an alternate ending to Doppelgangland. Be warned, this fic contains non-consensual sex and character death.
Pairing: Willow/Vamp Willow

That was the first thing that registered in Willow's mind – a dull throb in her head, and a burning ache in her arms and shoulders.

Forcing her eyes open, the young woman looked around, searching for anything that would tell her where she was. As her senses regrouped, she quickly realized three things.

First, she was at Angel's mansion on Crawford Street.

Second, she was hanging by her wrists, which were chained to the wall.

Third, she was naked.

The memories were fragmented at first; she had to fight to make any sense of them.

Willow struggled to her feet; her legs were shaking, but the pain of taking her whole weight on her manacled arms was too much to take any longer. Her head spun a little as she moved.

"Well, well, look who's awake…" That quiet, sing-song voice caused Willow to turn her head suddenly, forcing her to fight down a wave of nausea. The vampire stalked toward the witch, her hips swaying gracefully. The bloodless lips curled into a half-smile as the green eyes roamed approvingly over Willow's naked body. Willow shuddered at the look of naked hunger she saw on the vampire's face; she didn't know if it was for her body or her blood.

"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you," the demon whispered in Willow's ear. Her cold tongue flicked out and ran gently over the trail of dried blood that had trickled from the small cut on Willow's forehead, suffered during her fall over the library counter. Cold fingers stroked slowly up and down between her small, firm breasts.

"S-stop…" Willow gasped as the vampire began nibbling her earlobe, tugging gently, while her fingers skimmed over the underside of Willow's breast. "Do you know who lives here?"

"Don't worry, Puppy won't disturb us." The vampire chuckled softly. "The Slayer has him running all over town looking for you." She pinched Willow's nipple, drawing a moan from the redhead.

Willow didn't know what frightened her more: the vampire or her own body's betrayal. In spite of her fear and disgust at the situation she found herself in, her body was responding to the vampire's touch. As cold lips closed over her nipple, the rosy peak hardened and Willow unconsciously leaned into the contact.

"Mmmmm, you're so warm…." The vampire murmured against her skin. Her arms circled Willow's waist, her hands stroking the pale skin of her back.

Willow fought to regain control, succeeding enough to gasp a question. "W-what do you want?"

"You, of course!" The vampire smiled as she dropped to her knees, playfully nipping at Willow's skin, working her way down over the flat stomach. Oz had never dared to use his teeth, even in the most heated make-out session, fearing he would infect Willow with his lycanthropy. She whimpered at the new sensation, unsure whether what she felt was pleasure or pain.

The vampire was on her knees now, her face level with Willow's hips. She blew gently on the soft, coppery curls covering her mons, all the while running her hands up and down Willow's inner thighs. "You're so pretty… that's why I brought you here. I'm going to make you young and beautiful forever…"

Willow's blood froze in her veins, even as the vampire parted her thighs and began probing with her fingers at Willow's warm, damp cleft. The thought of becoming a vampire was enough to break through the haze of arousal, and allowed pure terror to take its place. She desperately tried to kick the vampire away, but her alter ego easily held her in place and began to apply her fingers and tongue, drawing pleasure from Willow's body regardless of what her mind felt.

"Please, please no… please… stop… don't…" Willow pleaded with her captor, tears running down her cheeks as the sensations built inside her. The vampire looked up at her, emerald eyes sparkling with amusement at her distress. Two cold fingers began to pump rhythmically inside Willow's warm channel, in counterpoint to the mouth suckling at her clitoris. She felt her knees begin to weaken and clung desperately to her chains, trying to hold herself upright as her body surrendered to the assault.

The vampire smiled as she felt Willow's silken walls convulse around her fingers. She removed her mouth from the throbbing bundle of nerves, replacing it with her thumb which continued the relentless stimulation. Moving her head slightly to the side, she shifted her face into its true form. She paused briefly, savoring the moment, then sank her fangs into the femoral artery.

The waves of pleasure pouring through her body were so intense that to begin with, Willow was unaware that she had been bitten. By the time she realized what was happening, she was too weak to even beg for mercy. Her vision spun as her doppelganger sucked the life from her.

The vampire suckled greedily, savoring the sweet, coppery taste of her twin's blood. Finally, as she felt her victim's heart begin to slow, she rose from her knees. She ran her tongue across the tip of a fang, slicing it open and letting her own blood join Willow's in her mouth. Morphing back to her human face, she bent her head and kissed the dying girl.

Willow was so weak from loss of blood she didn't even realize what was happening. Instinctively, she accepted the vampire's tongue into her mouth, swallowing the mixture of blood. Somewhere in the back of her mind she felt her heart stop beating, and the world drifted away. She never heard the door of the mansion open…

Buffy fell to her knees by the side of the grave, sobbing as the ashes of her best friend scattered on the night wind. Reaching into her jacket pocket, she pulled out the small dagger she had taken from the library weapons cabinet that evening. For a moment she saw, in her mind's eye, the words she had written on a scrap of paper on Giles' desk;

"I love you, Willow," she said, tracing the words engraved on the gravestone with one hand. Then she rolled back her sleeve, set the blade against her wrist, and began to cut.

The End

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