Title: Past Imperfect 2/?
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!
Willow spent the early hours of the morning alternately trying to find a way out of their prison and trying to refuse the confused vampire's amorous suggestions. She couldn't help wondering how Spike would react when he finally came to his senses. The last thing she wanted was to be locked up in this creaky old building when his memory righted itself.Back to Fan Fic"It's hopeless, pet," Spike said as she tugged at the locked door. "You're tired. Come lay down with me."
She swallowed as she felt his arms encircling her waist from behind her, and he pulled her back toward the tattered mattress on the floor.
"We have to get out of here," she told him.
"I know," he nodded, pulling her down with him. "Just rest for a bit."
Gently pushing her onto her back, he covered her mouth with is and explored her mouth with slow strokes of his tongue.
"You want me," he whispered as the scent of her growing desire betrayed the redhead.
"We can't. Spike, I--"
"Those marks on your neck--before I drank from you tonight--they're mine, aren't they? Did I hurt, before?" he asked, his eyes heavy with dread. "What happened to me? How did I become what I am?"
"Do you remember anything? Buffy? Angel?"
"What are they?" he asked.
She giggled softly, "They're people. Buffy's the slayer, and Angel is your sire. Does any of this mean anything to you?"
"You're the only one who means anything to me," he smiled. "But yes, I do remember them, now. Buffy's your friend, isn't she?"
"Yes," Willow nodded.
"And Angel--there's something different about him." "He has a soul," she reminded him.
"That's right. Why did he turn me? Because we were friends? Was he helping me somehow?"
"Oh, boy," Willow thought to herself. "We are so _not_ going there."
"Do you remember Drusilla?" she asked, sidestepping his questions.
"I loved her. Or I thought I did, before I loved you. She left me, and then I found you, and it didn't matter anymore."
Willow couldn't help marveling at the strange twists in his memories.
"Anyway, Buffy must be looking for us," he said. "Angel left town, didn't he? It's too bad they couldn't have found what we have. She's a very determined woman. She's bound to find us, and until then, we're alone, and you're safe."
"Spike, we--"
"Shhh," he smiled and traced her lips with the tip of his finger. "I won't let anything happen to you."
He dropped his mouth to hers, and Willow breathed in sharply as his hands moved under her shirt and skimmed over her warm tummy. Spike deepened the kiss as he cupped her satin-covered breast and worried the nipple with his thumb until it hardened. Willow's mind went blank as her body took over, responding of its own accord to his soft ministrations. Her legs parted as he lifted the hem of her skirt, and his hand sought the warmth of her sex. He rubbed his fingers over her slit, teasing the juices from her core. Willow tore her mouth from his at the unmistakable sound of his zipper being drawn down.
"It's all right, sweetheart. We're alone," he reassured her before taking her lips again.
Her brain urged her to struggle free as her heart beat rapidly, the quick rhythm throbbing at his marks on her neck. Unconsciously her hips ground against his hand as the desire to feel him inside her, filling her, sating her need, overtook reason. Spike ripped away the thin fabric of her panties, and she moaned as his cock brushed over her opening and plunged inside, sliding easily between her wet, tight walls.
Willow arched to meet him as he pounded into her, drawing her body into his rhythm. His lips moved over her eyelids, her cheeks, along her jaw and throat as he felt her channel contracting around him. His fingers rubbed over her clit, and she babbled his name in soft pants as she drove back into him. He returned to the tender wounds on her neck and pierced them, sending her over the edge with a loud cry. He flooded her womb with his seed and lapped at her blood as he came, a soft growl of possession rumbling in the back of his throat.
A thousand tangled thoughts raced through Willow's mind, and she shivered at the intensity of their coupling. He pulled her close against him as he moved onto his side and curled her around him.
"I love you," he whispered and squeezed her tightly as her walls continued to flutter around him.
His hand rubbing softly over her firm, rounded buttocks and his lips brushing tenderly over her forehead gently lulled her troubled mind to sleep.
***
Willow slid off of the mattress and stood up to straighten her clothes, discarding the panties which were torn beyond wearing. She turned away as Spike stirred and sat up to tend to his similar state of undress. She went to the door and reached for the latch, then pulled her hand quickly back as the key scraped in the lock. Spike was on his feet, dragging her back to his side, when the door swung open. Darkly cruel eyes peered out from the hooded figure and raked over the redhead.
"Time for some fun," the man announced and stepped toward her.
Spike shoved her behind him and lunged at the stranger. The gun in his hand clattered to the floor as the vampire landed on top of him and buried his fangs in the man's neck. Willow's back was pressed flat against the wall when Spike released the corpse and turned his human visage to her.
"It's all right, baby. He can't hurt you now," he said softly.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her head.
"I'd almost forgotten I could do that," he admitted.
"Instinct," she told him.
"Protecting what I love," he nodded. "Let's see if we can find our way out of here."
***
"This place must have been the product of some crazed architect's dementia," Willow muttered as they made their way down yet another corridor.
The old house was riddled with hallways leading to dead ends, stairways leading in both directions, and doors leading to empty rooms. The windows had either been boarded or bricked over at some point in the distant past. Willow kept close to Spike's side, allowing his keener vision to lead them through the dark, dusty passageways.
Spike forced a sigh from his lungs as they came to the end of the hallway. A flight of stairs to his left led up, another to his right led down. He looked around at the redhead.
"Down," she suggested.
He nodded and took her hand. The third step from the bottom had all but rotted through, and Willow cried out as the board under her foot gave way. Spike caught her around the waist, lifted her up, and held her against him as he stepped off the last stair.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I'm--" her breath caught as his concerned eyes locked on hers. "I'm fine. Thank you."
He smiled and placed a quick kiss on her lips before lowering her to her feet. Willow groaned as they turned to look down another seemingly endless corridor.
"Don't worry, luv. We'll find our way out. Anyway, Buffy must be looking for us by now. She'll find us," he said.
"That could take longer than you think," she warned him.
"Why? Where is this place?" "We're near the old reservoir just outside of town. The way I figure it, this should be just about the last place she looks," she answered. "And those guys who brought you here are bound to come back."
"Good. I plan on feeding them their own eyeballs," he nodded.
Willow grinned in spite of the vampire's menacing tone. That sounded more like the Spike she knew.
