The Witches Blood Series
Turning of the Tides

by Elisabeth

Copyright © 2003

dragonydreams@yahoo.com

Willow didn't know why she had volunteered to go question Spike. In all honesty, she would have preferred to stay at the Magic Box and study the Buffy-bot some more. Warren's design was remarkable, despite what Buffy thought of her look-a-like. Willow was never one to turn down an opportunity to study robotics. She still had some pieces from Buffy's mom's ex-boyfriend, Ted.

At first Xander had suggested that Buffy go to Spike pretending to be the robot. Despite agreeing that he would be more likely to tell his toy the truth, Buffy was simply too disgusted with the idea that Spike had created a robot version of her to have sex with to face him without beating him up some more.

So here she was, slowly trekking across town to Spike's crypt, contemplating the past days' events.

Willow couldn't help feeling guilty that her initial relief at learning Buffy and Spike hadn't slept together wasn't for Buffy, but for herself. She loved Tara, truly she did, but she couldn't deny to herself the lust she felt for the blond vampire. The thought that her best friend had slept with him was up there with Xander practicing asking Buffy out on her in high school.

But in the next sentence "Buffy" admitted to having had sex with Spike, lots of times. Willow was right; the knife in her back was just as sharp. And then the Buffy-bot had wanted to go into details about Spike's prowess in bed… it was almost more than Willow could take.

The fact that this announcement was soon followed by a random remark about Willow being gay now had seemed completely out of the blue at the time. She was caught so completely off guard, having been lost in images of naked Spike, that she wasn't sure how to react to the statement. It felt like a sharp twist of the knife. Thank goodness Xander came home then.

Willow didn't think that Spike had said anything to Glory about Dawn. His devotion to Buffy, while obsessive and deranged at times, was real. He would never do anything to get in the way of her possibly returning his affection one day. Handing Dawn over to Glory would be the surest way of driving Buffy away. Then again, creating a robot version of the slayer was a pretty close second, in Willow's opinion.

She stood in front of the door to the crypt for a moment, shifting the paper bag containing the blood she had picked up at the butcher's on the way. Given the severity of Spike's injuries, she had a feeling he'd be needing extra nourishment.

Spike lay on the sarcophagus, too tired to attempt climbing down the ladder to his bed. His body ached from the hours he had spent in Glory's company. He had already been tired from all of the sex he and the bot had been having. Even with vampire strength and recovery time, the bot was ravenous. And he wasn't one to complain when "Buffy" wanted to do nothing more than fulfill his every fantasy.

With a pitiful groan, Spike realized that he had nailed the coffin shut on any possibility of having the real girl he was in love with. Sure, having a sex- bot built in Buffy's image had seemed like a good idea at the time… He knew that it was going to take time to convince the slayer to love him, but he was horny as hell. It'd been months since Harmony had left him and his hand just wasn't cutting it.

The robot had certainly taken the edge off, but it still wasn't the same. She was tight as a glove, but wasn't wet, like a real girl would be. She was not nearly as warm as a human should be, but still warmer than a vampire. And that smile was something he had to work very hard not to cringe at. Her fake smile was yet another reminder that he was shagging a fake girl.

He was a fucking master vampire! How could he have been reduced to crawling through the mud, after a slayer no less, for any scrap of affection? Reduced to creating substitutes for the one he wanted to be with. He was ashamed of himself, of what he was becoming. As his body protested an attempt to raise his arm, he started to think that maybe this obsession with the slayer wasn't entirely healthy.

Willow knocked softly, then realized that Spike wouldn't come to the door because a) he was injured and b) Hello, daylight. She pushed the door open, calling out, "Spike."

A groan from the side of the crypt alerted her to his location. Willow quickly crossed the room, her breath catching at the multiple gashes on his body and his bruised and battered face.

Spike turned his head towards the gasp and opened his one working eye. It was Red. He lifted his head, looking for his robot. Sighing, he returned his head to the cold, hard surface beneath him.

"Red, come to check on the invalid? Didn't know you cared." He tried for sarcasm, but ended with a cough.

"What did she do to you?" Willow quietly asked, hardly believing Spike had endured being tortured for so long.

"Nothing I won't recover from," he defensively told her. "What're you doing here?"

"Did you tell her?" There was no need to elaborate.

"'Course not." Spike sounded offended. "I'd sooner die than do that to Buffy, nearly did."

Willow let out a sigh of relief. "I didn't think you would." She moved to help him sit. "Here, sit up. I brought you some blood. It should help you heal faster."

"Human?" Spike asked hopefully, knowing human would speed his recovery right along.

Willow blanched. "N-no. Pig. I stopped at the butcher's on the way over."

"S'okay, didn't really expect it. Just would speed things along a bit faster s'all."

Willow looked away as Spike gingerly opened the container and drank it down cold. He was starving from his blood loss and had been too tired to unearth his own blood supply.

Looking anywhere but at Spike, Willow worried her bottom lip, mulling over what Spike had just said.

"Is it really better?" she asked. "Human blood?"

Spike licked his lips, his eye taking on a far-away look. "Yeah. Slayer's blood's the best – best for healing, best aphrodisiac… Witches are next best – all that magic coursing through their veins gives it a nice kick. Regular humans work right well though for strengthening a vampire. This stuff," he raised the half empty container, "will at least keep my strength up, but won't do much to help heal."

Spike noticed Willow's lip biting become a bit more vicious as she was obviously thinking. He wondered if her lip would split from the constant abuse by the time she worked out whatever it was that was bothering her. He didn't think she'd be so squeamish about talking about a bit o' blood.

He found himself rooting for those sharp white teeth as they pulled at the tender flesh of her lip. Maybe if she broke the skin and started bleeding she'd let him have a taste. He was telling the truth that witch's blood was potent. He bet that her blood would be rich and spicy, powerful. Twice he'd had the opportunity to taste her in the past and been denied. Maybe today he'd get lucky.

Willow's mind was replaying Spike's words in her head, "Witches are next best." She was no slayer, but she was a witch. Would her blood help him heal faster? She wasn't even aware that she had nibbled her lip until it was raw and now lightly bleeding. A soft growl behind her caused her to spin around to face Spike. She saw his nostrils flare as he stared at her lip. It was then that she realized she'd broken the flesh.

She moved to lick the hint of blood from her lip unconsciously. Spike tried to reach out, jarring his bruised ribs, crying, "No, don't. Please…" he met her eyes with his good one, "May I?"

Willow held her breath for a minute. Dare she let a hungry, yet injured, vampire feed from her? This wasn't any vampire though… this was Spike. The thought of having his lips and tongue on her lips caused her heart to race, and not from fear.

Nodding her consent, Willow stepped between Spike's legs, gingerly resting her hands on his hips. She nibbled the cut a bit more, opening it further for Spike.

"Thank you," he whispered against her lip.

With one swipe of his tongue he removed the small trace of blood from the cut. He whimpered in pleasure, then in disappointment at the small amount. Spike pulled her lip between his, trying to coax more from her already healing wound. He wanted to change, and bite her, to draw the blood from her body. He felt his fangs try to elongate and pulled away, grimacing at the reverberating pain in his body the sudden action caused. He didn't want to add a migraine to the rest of his pain if he did hurt Willow.

Willow was in a daze. Even though Spike's lips had been on hers for a platonic reason, she couldn't keep the giggly thoughts out of her head that his lips were surrounding hers. But then he pulled away moments later. She realized why immediately – the cut was closed. Without thinking, Willow mumbled a few words under her breath, causing her incisors to lengthen and sharpen. She swiftly slashed her tongue on her new fangs, pressing her lips to Spike's, inviting him to take her blood.

Spike was startled at first. He hadn't heard what Willow'd mumbled, but then she threw herself at him, kissing him hard. His instinct was to push her away – he didn't want Willow like that, he wanted Buffy. Then his mouth filled with the taste of her blood as the witch thrust her tongue past his lips.

With a growl of pleasure, Spike wrapped his arms around Willow, pulling her body closer. He sucked her tongue into her mouth, drawing her blood out. She tasted as perfect as he'd imagined. Her blood was like ambrosia, food of the gods to heal him and make him whole again. He was barely aware that her hands were in his hair, gently running through the curls that had formed.

When she felt the blood flow diminishing, Willow pulled back for a much needed breath. Spike stared at her with wonder as she panted, her mouth hanging slightly open. He did a double take when he saw what looked like fangs. Grasping her chin, he turned her head from side to side to get a better look.

"Whr-r u dng?" Willow tried to ask through her held-open mouth.

"Uh, Red, when'd you grow fangs?" Spike warily asked, not releasing her.

"Isha shell," she tried to answer. "Naw real."

"Look real," he mumbled. "Why're you sport'n your own set of fangs, luv? Wanna be a vampire?" he leered, or tried to.

"Uh uh," she tried to shake her head for emphasis, but Spike's grip was still firm. "Or u – to gif u i ood."

"You made fangs for yourself just so you could cut your tongue and feed me your blood?" he asked in bewilderment.

"Uh huh." Spike finally released her. Willow opened and closed her mouth experimentally a few times before continuing. "I wasn't about to let you bite me, how else was I going to feed you?"

"And here I thought you just wanted to snog me," he smirked.

Willow blushed, having a hard time denying that statement. Spike tried to raise an eyebrow in a questioning gesture, but grimaced as he realized that eyebrow was beneath a gash in his forehead. Willow soothingly ran her hand over the cut, wishing she could heal him magically. Instead she did the next best thing she could think of – she ran her fangs along her tongue again and opened her mouth to Spike.

This time when Spike accepted her mouth on his, he didn't just blindly feed. Yes, he still eagerly accepted her tongue into his mouth, but this time he did more than simply attempt to draw out her blood. No, Spike accepted this for what he had joked that it was, a kiss. His lips softened against Willow's, moving against her mouth as his tongue caressed hers.

Turning the tables slightly, he moved into her mouth, exploring her heat. He was temped to return the favor, sharing his blood with her with an easy swipe of his tongue against her fangs. He knew that Willow had no idea how incredibly sexy she looked with fangs. His desire to sire her was stronger than ever, with a glimpse of how she would look in fangs. All she was missing were her ridges, but he knew they would only add to her beauty.

Willow could hardly believe the difference in this exchange from the previous one. Spike was kissing her, well and truly kissing her. She knew she should stop, pull away, put up some form of protest when things changed, but she didn't want to. She had wanted Spike to kiss her since he'd kidnapped her in high school. She knew that she'd have all kinds of guilt later, but for now she wanted to live in the moment.

Only when he sensed her need to breathe did Spike reluctantly pull away. They both panted for air, reeling from the intensity of the kiss.

"Where did that come from?" Willow panted.

"Bloody hell if I know," Spike answered, just as surprised with his actions as Willow.

Stumbling backwards, Willow said, "I should probably get back. I gave you your blood and got what I came for."

Spike's eye twinkled. "Did ya now?"

"Not that," Willow blushed. "You know what I mean. About Glory…"

"Oh, right, Glory. Piece of work that one is." Spike hesitated, but he needed to ask. "My robot?"

"The robot was gross." Willow frowned. Spike had the decency to look ashamed. "Don't get me wrong, she's beautifully constructed, and would be an easy fix, not that I'm going to," she hastened to add. "I'm just saying, that from a technical point of view, she was amazing."

"That she was," Spike agreed dejectedly. "And there's no reason to get defensive. I'm sure you just want to keep her for yourself. Though I didn't know you fancied Buffy…"

"That is so not what I'm keeping her for," Willow insisted, then clapped her hand over her mouth when she realized she'd admitted to keeping the robot- Buffy.

"Right," Spike drawled. "If you're ever up for a threesome…"

Willow rolled her eyes at his playfulness. "Nice to see you're feeling better. I've gotta get back."

"I am," Spike seriously stated. "Thank you. For everything."

"Y-you're welcome," Willow said, somewhat taken aback by his sincerity. Willow turned and rushed from the crypt, suddenly very afraid that she would throw herself into his arms again if she stayed much longer.

Spike watched her leave, wishing he could go after her. He could only hope that he hadn't bollocksed up their friendship today. After what had just happened, he wanted to be around her more than ever. He wondered when the next time that he would see his witch would be. He was surprised to find that he didn't really mind not getting his bot back, not when he had his witch to look forward to.

Continued in Blood Track Mind...

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