V.I.T. Ch. 1


Spike and Willow. Season 3, set after "Lover's Walk"

"A spell. For me. You're gonna do a spell for me." Spike growled.

"Uh. . .w-what kind of spell?"

"A love spell! Are you brain dead?" Willow rolled over, clutching a pillow to her chest but still the phantom words echoed in her sleeping mind.

"You lie to me and I'll shove this through your face! Do you want that? All the way through to your brain!"

"No. Please no." Willow turned over again. "Nightmare." She mumbled, still deep in her own dream. Tears began to leak from her eyes as she shuddered on the bed, cowering from the phantom Spike.

"That smell. Your neck. I haven't had a woman in weeks." The vampire groaned.

"Whoa! No! Hold it!"

"Unless you count that shopkeeper." Willow thrashed in the bedcovers and still the images flashed in her mind, cringing before Spike, Xander laying helpless and bleeding on the bed. There was no place to run to, no where to hide.

"Now hold on! I'll do your spell for you. . .and. . . and. . . I'll get you Drusilla back. But there will be no 'bottle in face' and there will be no 'having' of any kind with me. Alright?"

"No! Don't, please don't, Spike-" Willow cried, clutching the pillow tighter.

"Please don't what?" A British accented voice asked. She heard it, clear as anything. She was awake suddenly, as if she'd been doused in ice water. Please. . .please. . .please. . .let it be Giles, gulp, that would be weird and require therapy but not deadly. Or Wesley! That would be annoying but not fatal. Unless you could die from boredom. But somehow she knew it wouldn't be either. Willow's eyes flew open and reality settled in.

It wasn't a dream.

"No! This isn't happening!" Willow screamed as she sat upright in bed. The room was under a veil of darkness. . .and she could barely make out the shadowy form of Spike beside her. Willow shut her eyes very deliberately. One. . .two. . .when I open. . .three. . .my eyes,. . .four. . . there won't. . .five. . . .be a vampire. . .six. . .there staring. . .seven . . .eight. . .at. . .nine. . . .me. . .ten. She opened them.

But 'shadowy Spike' was still there and a throaty chuckle issued form his obviously hoarse throat. A match flared and sparked a glowing ember on the tip of a menthol cigarette. He blew the smoke out in a hazy swirl, leaving the aroma of burned mint in the air. "Glad to see you joined the land of the living, pet." Spike drawled. He laughed at his own unintentional joke. "Well, at least one of us is. Living that is. So maybe I'm welcoming you to the land of the dead."

She was made mute by terror all she was aware of was her heart's thundering beat and her quick breaths. A light flicked on and Willow's eyes were assaulted by it's brilliance. She put her hands over her eyes, partly trying to adjust and partly to block out the view of her blond captor. What you can't see. . . a cold metal weight settled on her right wrist and a lock snapped. . .will drain you dry and leave your body on your friend's doorstep. Spike had handcuffed her! Before she could struggle, he pulled her arm over to the headboard and snapped the other cuff into the metal frame. She was now attached to the bed. No means of escape now. Some snippet of their earlier conversation . . .or terrifying exchange of words as the case may be. . . came back to her. "I haven't had a woman in weeks."

Woah! 'Having' is bad, bad thing. Any kind of 'having' a vampire would do at least. She frantically tried to remember the rest of the conversation or what happened next but she couldn't. "W-w-what am I doing here?"

"Don't remember how are little tete-a-tete ended, do you?" Spike asked gleefully, resting his head on his elbow as he watched her like she was the morning's entertainment. Spike loved to watch humans squirm. It beat television, for the most part.

Willow fervently hoped she wasn't about to be a t.v. breakfast. She chewed on her lower lip as she searched for words. "Um, no." Her eyes skittered away from him and she looked at her surroundings, they were different from earlier. She realized that they weren't in the burned out factory anymore. They seemed to be in a cheap hotel room. The walls were a dingy brown, the bedclothes had mystery stains on them, and a half-ripped sign on the back of the door proclaimed that they were at the "Beldick Motel". Willow thought she saw a rat scuttle under the bed.

"Not surprised, I rapped you pretty hard on that brainy head of yours." He didn't sound sorry about it.

She touched her free hand to the base of her skull and noted some tenderness, that's why there was dull ache. Her fingers carefully drifted to her neck and she noted two puncture marks but he hadn't drained her. There was some dried blood on her neck but not an excessive amount. She didn't even feel light headed. What else was she missing? "Oh!" Xander! "Where's Xander?" Her eyes darted around the room.

"The boy?"

"Uh-huh." Let him be alive, let him be alive, let him be alive. . .

"I left him back in Sunnydale, pet."

"And he was alive when you left, right?"

Spike smirked. "Yep, sleepin' soundly." He tilted his head as he continued to watch her. "Think I even left the door ajar for him. Not that I care about that git. I was carrying you out and couldn't be bothered to shut it." He only left the boy alive because he hadn't been hungry. Killing wasn't that much fun if the victim wasn't conscious and able to scream anyway. Made the meal boring. What was the point if there wasn't any theater with the dinner?

Willow sighed in relief. Then, stiffened. "Did you just say we're not in Sunnydale anymore?"

"Yes." That's all he had to say on the subject. He picked up a half-empty bottle of mescal from the night stand and took a hearty swig. "I don't care if I ever see that bloody place again."

"Oh. . .but. . .but. . .why am. . .I-" Not dead? Not suffering from too much blood loss? Er, in your bed? "Why am I here?"

"That's a good question, luv." He took another drink from his bottle. He held it tightly, like a life line.

Great! He didn't even have a plan. There was nothing more dangerous than a demon who acted on instinct. Especially a male demon. Wait a minute, no plan meant no imminent demise for her right? "Oh."

"Oh? You're not going to get hysterical or plead for your life?" Spike looked put out.

"Uh, no. Did you want me to?" Maybe he liked begging. She could do that if it meant she got to live longer.

He thought about it a moment. "No, not really. I feel another effin' headache coming on. You screamin' wouldn't help it any."

"Hangover?" Willow asked. Good, maybe he'll pass out or get sick and then I can skedaddle.

Spike pressed his hand to his forehead. "Yeah, been having a lot of those lately since. . ."

Willow nodded. "Since Drusilla left." She said softly, finishing his sentence for him.

Spike's eyes grew angry. "Don't even say her name!" He vamped out and snarled at her.

Willow shrieked and jumped off the bed, but couldn't move very far because of the handcuffs. She pulled at them furiously, causing them to clank against the bedframe. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you." She tried desperately to placate the vampire.

He growled at her as his hands reached to drag her back onto the bed by her arm. He pressed her back into the mattress with his body as he gripped her chin with one of his hands. "Never say her name to me again! Understand?" Willow nodded as best she could with his fingers digging into her jaw. "You aren't worthy to even speak of my goddess, my ripe wicked plum. . ." His face crumpled just as soon as his speech had begun and his arms went around her. He sought comfort in the embrace of her soft warm body, crying forlornly.

Willow's heart was pounding so hard, she thought it might leap from her chest. "Y-y-you're going to be alright." She said shakily as she placed her free hand on the back of his head. Sad Spike was easier to deal with than mad, homicidal Spike. His hair was smooth and softer than it looked. A vampire is crying on you and you're thinking about his hair?! Get a grip, Rosenberg.

"No, I'm not." He moaned. "Never be alright again without her. I'm nothing without my black beauty." Spike put his face into the crook of her neck, tears soaking her skin and making the barely closed wound sting. She flinched but then she felt his tongue lave her bite marks. That wasn't as unpleasant as you might imagine.

For some reason the sight of his mark on her was comforting. Someone in the world belonged to him. Even if it was a mortal who was friends with a Slayer. He licked his lips as he pulled back to gaze down at her. "Do you know what you are?"

Willow gulped, her face blotched with hectic color. "L-L-Lunch?"

Spike surprised her by laughing. Really laughing. With her, not at her. He pulled back and sat beside her, a couple of tears running down his face."You really don't know, do you? Even though you've been working with the Slayer and the Watcher."

"No, I don't know what you're talking about." Maybe he was going crazy. Well, it was understandable, after being with a mad woman for so long maybe it had rubbed off on him. . .and he'd never been what you would call well-adjusted.

Spike traced his mark with a fingertip. "Knew it when I bit you. I should have smelled it sooner, but I was drunk. Not thinkin' straight,you know. You're a vampire in the making, pet."

"You want to make me a vampire?" Yipes! And here she was, tied and helpless. Why didn't the Watcher's have an emergency hotline number should could call? You know, the Vampire Intervention Team or something.

Spike raised an eyebrow. "I didn't say that. I said, 'you are a vampire in the making'. You have the ability to be a master vampire."

She scrunched up her nose. "Well, yes. And every other human that walks around Sunnydale at night. All it takes is a bite and then he sucks your blood and you suck his--"

Spike rose one eyebrow and licked his lips as his eyes traversed her body. "Yes?" He waited but she was mute. "You were talking about sucking, I believe."

"I don't remember."

"A likely story." Spike took another drink. Maybe there was more to this quiet little country mouse than he had thought. After all, she had the genetics to be a master vamp. "You know, luv, vamps made that way can only be minions. Master vampires must have a special kind of blood."


"You don't look too excited." Spike chuckled again and reached for his bottle.

"It isn't like winning the lottery or anything. Unless its like an evil lottery." Willow said cautiously, she was rewarded by another laugh.

"Oh, but it is." Spike's eyes took on an expectant gleam, his tongue snaked out to outline his lower lip. "For both of us."

"You're going to turn me?" Can this day get any worse? Woah! Better not ask that, even mentally. Ask and you usually received. Especially near the Hellmouth.

"Not tonight."

"Okay. Great. Not dying tonight. I can live with that." Willow frowned. "Not that I was trying to pun, Buffy usually does that and she's so-"

"You're going to be my revenge." Spike said, speaking to himself, a crafty gleam in his eye. "On all of 'em. Drusilla, Slutty, and best of all. . .Angelus."

Willow was confused. "I'm confused again. Revenge. . . ? How?"

Spike took another swig. "I've never made myself a childe, not in all my one hundred and fifty some years. Dru wouldn't let me, said that she didn't want to share me with anyone."

"Okay. So, you're going to turn me to. . .what? Make her jealous?"

"That's right, little girl. You're going to be my masterpiece, the most vicious vampire ever turned. I'll turn you loose on all of them."

"Aack!" Willow cried, unthinkingly. All she could see was her inevitable entry in the Watcher's Journals with a picture next to her vitals. She'd probably be in leather or something equally provocative. Somehow, that bothered her more than being bitten and drained and then. . .no, the bitey and dying part was definitely worse.

"That bothers you?" Spike asked, still amused by her thought processes. At least she wouldn't be an eternal bore.

"Well. . .yeah. Not big on the killing thing."

"You will be."

"But I won't make a good vampire."

"And why's that?"

"Because. . .because. . .not big with the killing."

"Yes, you said that reason already." Spike said.

"Uh. . .I'm afraid of the dark."

Spike laughed. "You won't be with Big Bad looking out for you."

"I don't look good in black."

"Yes, you do." Spike reached out and touched the fluffy pink sweater. "You'd look better in it that this."

"Hey, my mom bought me this!" Willow cried.

Spike nodded, apparently having a silent conversation with himself. "We'll need to get you some new clothes, I can't be seen with you in these things."

"But you were yesterday."

"Yes, but I was intending to use you and eat you. You're family now. You'll be my childe and I can't be embarrassed by you."

"Childe." Willow shuddered. "Wow, you'll be my dad."

Spike flicked his cigarette ash on the floor. "No, I'll be your sire."

"Sire. Oh, because I'll belong to your bloodline. The Order of Aurelius." Willow was speaking hypothetically. She had no intention of pledging the 'vampire fraternity.' She was simply curious about the process.

"Exactly, pet." He looked proud.

"So, you had this gene too?"

"Yes, but I was turned in the bad old days."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I was made in an alley. I had no training until after I was a vampire. That was before vampires were forced to limit their numbers."

"Why are they doing that?"

"Not enough food."

Food. . .people. "Oh, I see."

"Don't look so tense, luv. They'll be plenty for us to eat."

"Um...yeah." Willow agreed. She was surprised to hear her stomach growl.

Spike heard it too. "You need some food."

"I am hungry." Now, that her death wasn't imminent.

Spike looked at the phone doubtfully. "I doubt they have room service."

"Oh, well, I could just run down to the corner store. It'll be no problem, I'll even-"

"I don't think so." Spike said, giving her a quelling look. "You're staying in my site at all times. Can't have you going off and blabbing this to Slutty."

"Buffy." Willow corrected automatically.

"You say Slayer, I say Layer." Spike retorted.

"I suppose we could order a pizza and you could have a slice of mushroom while I have a slice of pizza man."

"NO!" He smirked at her. "I mean. . .I'm not hungry. Nope, feeling fine."

"We'll have to break you of this morality habit you have, pet." Spike said. "But, I'll be gentle. . .for now." He fished the key to her cuff out of his jeans pocket. "We'll go to the vending machine down the hall because its still shady at this time of day. Just so happens that I want a Baby Ruth."

"Okay." Willow brightened. She looked at her hands. "Uh, thanks."

"Don't thank me, pet. This isn't going to be easy." He could almost hear the wheels in her mind churning. "Don't even think of trying to get away. I will hunt you down to the ends of the Earth."

"Why?" Willow asked, shocked by his demeanor.

"Because, pet, you're my V.I.T."

"You're Victim Ingesting Treat?"

"You don't know how rare you are, do you?" Spike laughed again. "Your one in a million, especially considering your history with Dru and Angel. They'll both be jealous . . .and Buffy will be terrified of my Vampire In Training."

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