Past Imperfect

Title: Past Imperfect
Author: Ruby
E-mail: ruby_113@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-16
Disclaimer: Joss owns all.
Summary: Spike has had a slight mental adjustment. Archive: Charity's site, Willow's Men, Fever of Fate, and all the rest of my usual haunts.
Feedback: Yes, please!
Dedication: For Selene. Your kind comment made my weekend.:-)

Willow waited until the last of the dark figures had climbed into the car and pulled away before she crept out of the bushes and made her way to the door of the old, abandoned house. The heavy lock prevented her from entering for only as long as it took her to find a narrow, broken window at the back of the house.

She considered, once more, going back to campus to find Buffy. The slayer had agreed to go to a movie with Riley, and Willow hated the idea of pulling her friend away from her first date with him. Besides, the redhead reminded herself, she had counted the shadowy figures twice--once when they entered the building and once when they left. They had all gone, save one, and she knew who had been left behind.

She hoisted herself through the window and landed silently on the wood floor inside. It took a few minutes for her eyes to adjust to the darkness and several more to scout the myriad of corridors and stairways that lead to the locked room she was seeking. How she knew Spike had been brought here she did not know, but she suspected it had something to do with the tiny scars that still adorned her neck from the night he had attacked her in her dorm room.

Willow found a set of keys hanging from the wall beside the thick wooden door and tried each of them until she found the one that fit into the lock. Cautiously, she pulled the door open and stepped through. Spike lay on his side on an old mattress near the wall, and she knelt over him and placed her hand on his arm. He moaned softly, and his eyes snapped open with a bright flash of amber. She gasped and quickly drew her hand away.

"Willow," he whispered and reached for her.

"Yes," she nodded, looking warily at him.

"Willow," he murmured again and pushed himself up to plant a hard kiss on her lips before wrapping his arms around her. "Sweetheart, I--"

"What?" she squeaked, struggling backed to stare at him.

He tugged her back to him, refusing to let go, "I love you, baby. I can't believe you found me."

"Very heartwarming," a male voice spoke from the doorway. "Did you really think we'd leave him unguarded?"

Willow turned quickly as the man leveled a gun at her. His cold eyes moved from the redhead to the vampire who was clutching her waist.

"Let's just hope it's true love," he smirked at Spike. "Because you two are going to be together for a very long time."

The man backed out of the room, slammed the door shut, and turned the key in the lock.

"How did you find me?" Spike asked after a brief silence.

"I--I don't really know. I just knew--somehow--that you were in trouble."

He smiled weakly and brushed his lips over hers, then groaned in pain as she tried to push herself away from him.

Carefully, she pressed her hand against his ribs and looked up at him as he grimaced.

"You're hurt," she whispered, tugging his shirt up to examine the angry bruises on his side. "How long has it been since you fed?"

"Fed? I don't remember. Wasn't I with you?"

She brushed her fingers over the scars on her neck, "That was almost three weeks--"

"Willow," his voice registered his alarm, "Who did that to you? Who hurt you?"

"Don't you remember?" she asked, searching his face for any sign of deception and finding none. "You're hurt pretty badly. You need to feed."

He looked at her curiously, wondering at the strange expression, "There's no food here, ducks."

She sighed and willed her racing heart to quiet, "We have to get out of here, and I don't think I can manage it without you. Here."

She slid closer to him and turned her head, offering her neck to him.

"Just--don't take too much, please," she whispered.

Spike's hand gripped her shoulder, and he turned her face to his with a gentle hand on her cheek, "Baby, what are you doing?"

"Spike! You need blood. Just do it, already!"

"Blood? Are you saying--do you think I did that to you?" his fingers moved to the wounds on her neck. "I couldn't hurt you, luv. Not ever. Why would I--"

"You really don't remember," she said. "You're a vampire. You need blood to exist, to heal. I don't think your ribs are broken, but they're--"

"A vampire," he repeated slowly. "Luv, what's wrong with you? You aren't making sense."

"Look, I don't know what's happened here, but you do need my blood," she insisted. "It's been two days since anyone's seen you, and if you haven't fed in that long, you have to be dangerously weak. I need you strong if we're going to get out of here. Just drink from me."

"Assuming you haven't gone completely round the bend, and I'd adore you anyway, I wouldn't even know how to--feed--as you put it. What do I do?"

Exasperation was quickly getting the better of the redhead, "I don't know! You just go all grrr and start sucking on people! How the hell should I know how you do it?"

She shook her head as he laughed softly at her, and she placed her hand around his neck and drew his mouth to her throat.

"Just think blood and shoving your fangs in my neck--gently shoving, I mean, not--" she jumped as he placed a soft kiss on her neck. "That isn't what you're supposed to--Oh!"

She gasped breathlessly as his cold lips traveled to the hollow of her throat. Spike laughed once more and lifted his mouth to hers, running his tongue over her lips before sliding it between her teeth to explore the warmth of her mouth.

"This isn't working," she murmured, pulling away.

"Oh, I don't know, ducks. It's working for me," he whispered. "I love you. I don't know who that man was or why I'm here, but I'm so glad you found me."

"You don't love me," she tried to tell him.

"Is that what happened? Did we have a fight?" he asked. "Whatever it was, I'm sorry, baby. I'll always love you."

His mouth took hers again, and Willow fought the heat spreading through her body, placed her hands on his cheeks, and gently drew away.

"Maybe if you just concentrate on my neck," she suggested.

"With pleasure," he grinned and traced her jawline with his lips, moving down to the soft skin of her throat. She felt his arms tighten around her as his tongue slowly caressed the small scars. A soft snarl unwittingly broke from his lips, and she forced herself to remain still.

"Drink me," she whispered, running her fingers along the nape of his neck.

She whimpered softly as she felt his fangs brush over her wounds before carefully piercing them. He drank slowly, his gentle fingers kneading the tense muscles in her back. He was as careful now as he had been viscous three weeks ago in her room, and her body relaxed as he pulled away and lapped at the twin dots of blood on her throat.

"Do you remember now? Do you know what you are?" she asked.

"I remember," he answered. "I'm a vampire. And I'm yours. Only yours. I love you, Willow."

Her protest was stopped before it could leave her lips as he took them in a long, fiery kiss.

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