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Tempus de Muto by Schehrezade
 
Chapter 21
 
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A/N: I dithered over this bit for a very very LONG time. It is extremely dark and has some sexual situations that may offend and some reader may find out of character for Willow. But there is a reason for it all – Rack’s complete control and domination over Willow. If you are easily offended then please don’t read the ending - IT WILL OFFEND.



WARNING: Dark and kinky sexual content at the end of the chapter.





A few days later.

Spike slipped into Angel's room and stood in the shadows, watching Connor and Peaches talking quietly. Angel was still weak, but he was recovering quickly with the help of Tara and Fred. Tara had used all the healing spells at her disposal to help heal all the wounds on the older vampire's body, and Fred ensured that Angel always had a mug of blood to hand.


Spike ran his hand over the now healed shark bite; all that was left was a faint scar to remind him of the night. ‘That and a bunch of teeth, Nibblet is going to luv em when we get her back!’ Spike sighed at the memory of the younger Summers woman, whose disappearance was a constant worry to the bleached vampire.



When Tara had tearfully informed them that Willow was now in London, both he and Buffy had been devastated. What they had foolishly hoped to be a quick retrieval mission was now looking to be a much longer journey.



Flashback:



“Spike…where is it?” Buffy groaned as she flipped onto her back.



“Right here, pet,” Spike grabbed her hand and put it over his semi-erect cock.



“No, not that! But…” she squeezed it gently. “Kinda nice, though, and almost perky!” She reluctantly pulled her hand away. “The phone! Can’t you hear it ringing?”



“Almost perky?” Spike was insulted. If he hadn’t been in agony from the shark bite and loss of blood from his Grandsire’s bite, Spike would’ve rolled over and shown his girl how perky he really was.



Buffy reluctantly wriggled out of their warm nest. Spike watched appreciatively as she ran naked to their bags. She bent over, presenting the aroused vampire with a perfect view of her heart shaped behind. Buffy grumbled under her breath and began to toss clothes all over their room. “Found it!” She pulled the phone out of a side pocket and brandished it victoriously.



“Hello?” She walked back to their bed and curled up next to Spike.



“Hey Wes, how’s things?” She sat and listened to the crisp English voice at the other end of the phone, nodding occasionally and smiling. “Xander staked the crusty vamp who’d been turning all those fledges? Wow! He’s not hurt, is he? Good…”



Spike cocked his head. “Xander got the Master Vamp?” he whispered, surprise colouring his voice.



Buffy rolled her eyes at Spike and handed him the phone. “Here, I’m not having a three way conversation!”



Spike curled his tongue against his teeth, “not sharing you in any sort of three way…” He smirked at the look of shock on Buffy’s face.



“Hallo, Junior…how’s it going?”



Buffy watched Spike’s face as he concentrated; his hair was a riot of curls and he looked adorable. Especially with his lower lip stuck out in concentration. “We need a what? Hang on, Buffy try and find a pad and pen for me- should be one in my bags.”



Buffy slipped from the bed and quickly retrieved the items; she handed them to Spike and snuggled against his uninjured side.



Spike made notes on the pad, a frown creasing his forehead. “So the orb needs to be a pure clear quartz no blemishes, to act as a conduit. Right, have you emailed all this to Colomba? Good…” he nodded. Glancing down at the blond head resting on his chest, Spike smiled happily.



“We have some news, too.” For the next few minutes Spike filled in Wesley of Angel’s rescue and the role he played in it.



“Yeah, I surprised myself too! Going down to get Peaches, I’m sure you’d have done the same, too…” Spike laughed with Wes.



He sobered briefly, “Look mate, Colomba and the Jolly Green Giant, located Red…No, she’s moved on from the Big Apple…Looks like me and the Missus are heading back to Blighty…”



Buffy glanced up at Spike, trying to gauge his reaction. He had not said a word when Tara had informed them earlier; instead he had pulled out his phone and began making bookings for a flight to London.



Spike sighed, “Yeah, not as quick as we hoped, but we’ll catch up with the Witch.” Spike paused and listened.



“Gimme that address again,” Spike scribbled down the address. “So they’re the best for Wiccan bits and bobs? Thanks…”



Spike looked down at Buffy and drew an unneeded breath. “Look, how hard is it going to be to avoid the Council of Wankers in London?” Spike ran his free hand through Buffy’s hair as he listened.



“Anyone you trust who we can contact, cos I don’t think Giles is going to be much help, ‘specially after the last call…” Spike nodded.



“Right. You trust this bird? How do we contact her?” Spike noted down the number Wesley gave him.



“So, she’s only been in training for a year or so? And not indoctrinated? Good, if we have to we’ll give her a bell. Can you contact her and give her a heads up so I don’t get staked as soon as we meet. Brilliant stuff, mate…take care of the demon-girl and if you need anything call us.” With that Spike hung up and tossed the phone onto the nightstand, along with the pad and pen.



“Everything okay?” Buffy lovingly rubbed her nose into Spike’s throat.



“Yeah, Watcher boy gave me some info and the number of some Watcher girl that might help us out. Come here…” he rumbled and caught Buffy’s lips in a nibbling kiss. “OW!” He yelped as the sudden movement pulled at his injured side.



“Did I hurt you…” Buffy pulled away and ran her fingers over the bandage, checking for blood. “Let me check the wound.” She reverted from lover to nurse in the blink of an eye.



Spike had enjoyed Buffy in nurse mode. She had coddled and cosseted Spike for the rest of the day, only leaving the room to get more blood and to catch up with the others. She tended to all his needs.



End flashback



*********



Spike smirked at the memory of the erotic bed bath his Slayer had insisted on giving him that day.



“Hey, Spike!” Fred slipped past Spike with a wide smile on her face.



“All right, Pet?” Spike frowned in puzzlement at her back as she disappeared down the corridor, waving as she left.



Both Tara and Fred were starting to worry the peroxide blond vampire. Every time he came into a room where they were, the two women would stop talking and stare at him with big eyes. Spike was getting more than a little frustrated with their antics and complained to Buffy. She’d laughed at him and said he was jealous that Tara had a new friend and wasn't paying all her attention to him. Buffy's astute comment had made Spike disappear with Lorne. Several hours later the two drunken demons staggered into the hotel three sheets to the wind, as pissed as sailors on their first day of shore leave.

Buffy, in a fury, locked Spike out of their room and refused to let him in all night. Spike had ended up sleeping pressed up against the door. Much to his embarrassment, Connor and Gunn had found him there in the morning.

Needless to say when Connor asked Angel what pussy whipped meant, and when Fred learned what Gunn had said to Connor he was read the riot act for using the wrong words in front of an impressionable teen.

Lorne and Connor were at his bedside constantly, both of them keeping the usually brooding vampire's morale up. Buffy had flitted in and out of the sick room, usually accompanied by Spike or Gunn. Between all of them they managed to keep Angel company, and also made sure he was recovering from his ordeal.

Gunn had been pounding the pavements and meeting with informants, desperately trying to find any trace of Cordelia. Both Buffy and Lorne had joined Gunn on his reconnaissance trips, and much to Spike's frustration, his girl wouldn't let him leave their bed until he was healed up.



Angel eagerly anticipated their return and each time they hated giving him the bad news. Cordelia had disappeared without a trace.



Their search of Cordelia's apartment had not revealed anything, a box of photos of her and Angel was left open on the dining table. Other than that, nothing else was out of the ordinary. Phantom Dennis was unable to communicate to them and resorted to throwing books around the room, until Gunn and Buffy had left.

Gunn and Fred had managed to retrieve Cordy's jeep from the police impound and brought it back to the hotel. Spike had scented the car and found only the Cheerleaders familiar scent, and nothing else. All their efforts seemed to lead to a dead-end, and the effect on Angel had been telling. The dark haired vampire had sunk into a depression, elevated only by Connor and, surprisingly, Spike.

The two vampires had already reached an uncomfortable detente on Spike's last visit, but now there was a shift in their relationship. Angel had been stunned when Connor and Lorne had told him Spike had risked his unlife and saved him.



Angel had called for Spike. Asking for them to be left alone, he and Spike spoke for hours. Neither vampire spoke about the hours they spent talking. Buffy had tried all her feminine wiles on Spike and had no luck.



For once Spike was tight mouthed, he promised that she would know all when he was ready. The stunned and happy look in his blue eyes was enough for Buffy. She also noticed his hand kept going to the now healed bite on his neck. Buffy was happy to wait for him to confide in her when he was ready. She had realised that whatever had passed between the two former members of the Scourge of Europe had been significant. She suspected that Spike had finally found some common ground with Angel, and they were gradually putting their anger behind them.



As his Slayer would say ‘it was of the good!’



*********



Spike pushed open the door to Angel’s suite and stood watching the father and son talking quietly. He was pleased that the two were still close, despite all the trouble recently. What surprised Spike was how willingly the two had accepted him into their family unit. It was something Spike had never expected- and deep down had never realised how much he wanted- a family. He had been ecstatic when Buffy and Dawn had welcomed him into their small family, and had thought that he would never want anything more in his unlife. He was content, despite their losing Dawn. That was until….


Spike’s blue eye’s flickered down to Angel’s wrist, he could see the faint marks of where his teeth had sunk into the pale flesh of his Grandsire. Spike still couldn’t believe that Angel had offered his blood in recompense for the bite on the boat. Spike had tried to refuse, but Angel had eventually prevailed.



During their long talk, Angel and he had reached an understanding and were slowly moving forward. When Angel had offered his wrist, Spike had refused saying that it wasn’t necessary and that Angel was still recovering. Angel had been surprised- as a rule, most Childer leapt at the chance to taste their Sire’s blood. But Spike had always been different. It had taken hours of talking before Spike had agreed. Even so, the blond vampire had taken only a sip as a gesture. But it had felt right.



"Spike, come in." Angel pulled himself up and leant against the headboard.

Spike sauntered into the room; unsurprised that Angel had known he was hovering. "All right, Gramps?"



"No," Angel answered shortly. "We need to talk."

Spike glanced over at Connor, whose face was healed completely from his beating. The teen shrugged, pretending he had no idea what his father was up to.

Connor had joined Gunn and Buffy on patrol the previous night for the first time since his attack, and had been filling Angel in when Spike had entered.

Buffy had been impressed with his fighting abilities and his sweet nature, which she had relayed to Spike on her return. When she had gotten back to the hotel, she found Spike pacing in the garden, frustrated that he had been forced to stay indoors.



He had groused at Buffy, and she had raised an eyebrow and poked him in his still healing side. Spike had grumped at her and then said nothing more about being left out. Buffy had then filled him in on Connor's fighting techniques. Needless to say, Spike had been impressed and slightly envious that Connor had fought by his girl's side and not him. But he still liked the kid and felt it was his duty to play the ‘big brother’ with Connor.

"S'all right, Peaches. If I'm gonna get a dressing down, I'll stand." Spike crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head to one side.

"Why didn't you tell me about it? I had to hear about if from Fred and Tara?" Angel scowled at his completely confused Grand-Childe.

"What?" Spike asked.

"The chip." Angel pointed to the back of his head.

"What of it?" Spike asked defensively. "Look, I've heard it all before, muzzled dog…once it's gone, I’ll start biting again, blah…blah…blah."

"Shut up, Spike!" Angel growled. "That's not what I meant."

"Oh!" Spike sank fluidly into a leather upholstered, 1930s club chair. "Well, what then?" He slouched down, his legs spread and his fingers hooked into the waistband of his jeans.

"Did it fire when you killed the shark?" Angel asked.

"Well, yeah, a bit." Spike and Buffy had decided not to mention the chip's reaction to the shark and how it's firing had caused Spike to pass out on top of the coffin. Buffy had only discovered later the dried blood encrusted in Spike's ears. Or that his hearing was still to recover from the chip induced injury. Spike was too proud to admit anything was wrong and over the last few days his hearing was gradually improving.

"You could've killed yourself or become a vegetable rescuing me. Why did you do it?" Angel's dark eyes narrowed as he watched Spike closely. The souled vampire had been surprised when he had discovered who had rescued him, and with a chip that prevented him from harming a living thing.



Angel had always known Spike was a tenacious bastard, and it appeared that the chip implantation had brought that dogged determination to the fore. Spike had adapted and learned his limitations. Learning his limits and then pushing himself even further to accommodate.

What had surprised Angel most was that, instead of getting minions to work for him, Spike had turned to his mortal enemy for help. Fighting at Buffy's side against evil, and gradually forming a lasting relationship with her. A loving relationship, which Angel was gradually acknowledging- he may not like it, but it was here to stay.

“Surprised it worries you, mate!” Spike drawled. At Angel's authoratitive growl, Spike's shoulders sagged. "Okay, so I went down there, what of it?" Spike asked defensively. "You're my Grandsire," he added.

"You could have been hurt even worse, or killed." Connor interjected.

"Well, better me than Buffy or the other members of the Fang Gang." Spike protested. “S’not like any of them would’ve survived being chomped on!” He tried not to think about what would’ve happened if Buffy had gone down there…

Angel sighed. "Spike, enough...I wanted to say thank you again, I didn't realise what you were working against." He tapped a finger to his head.

Spike cocked his head and smirked. "Anything for you, Granddad!" He teased. Then he recalled Angel's first words. "What have those two birds been twittering on about to you?"

"Fred and Tara? Nothing much, just something they are working on. I think it's a good idea." Angel ducked his head and picked at the silk quilt that covered him. He was trying to downplay and was succeeding.

"What is?" Spike asked suspiciously.

"They have devised a way to get rid of the chip, and I approve,” Angel tossed his last comment out causally. He tried not to laugh at the look of stupefied shock on Spike's face- it wasn't often the verbose vampire was struck dumb and Angel relished it.

"I have to go now." Spike stood woodenly and tried to leave the room. Only to be blocked by Connor.

"Wait, Spike," Angel called from his bed.

Spike whirled and stalked over to his Grandsire. He leant over Angel and vamped out.



"You want them to release this back into the killing fields?"

Angel let his lumpies show, too. "Stop it, Spike," he ordered.

"Why?" Spike sank down next to his Grandsire. Connor came and stood next to the poleaxed vampire.

"Because you are going to need to defend yourself, Tara and Buffy from more than just demons if you are heading to London," Angel answered.

Spike nodded reluctantly. The morning after Angel's rescue, Tara had filled everyone in on Willow and Rack's new location. Buffy had pulled a face, explaining that London was way too close to the Watcher's Council for her liking, and after Spike’s brief conversation with Wesley, her worries had been confirmed.



Angel and Spike had exchanged a look, both of them aware that Travers and his Tweedie minions were not going to help, but interfere, when they found out about Buffy and Spike. That was when Angel had talked to Fred about finding a way to get rid of the chip.

"I know, Peaches. The Watchers. But why are you doing this? I can't believe that you're happy about me being de-chipped?"

Angel sat silent for a few seconds, his eyes flickering from Connor to Spike- his family. Something he had never thought he would have, his precious son and now Spike. He had no idea how to classify Spike, but he knew that after rescuing him, helping Buffy and loving Buffy that the pain in the arse was now family, and he looked after his family.



"I trust you, Spike," he stated simply. He had thought that the sharing of blood with Spike the other night would’ve made it unnecessary for him to voice his trust. But sometimes Spike was more like William than the peroxide blond vampire would admit, nervous and needing assurances from his peers.

Spike sat stock-still. He was stunned at the four simple words. 'He trusts me?'



The younger vampire was stunned; he sat there staring at Angel, waiting for him to say it was a joke, but nothing was said. "I don't understand…you trust me? Are you stoned? Has Colomba been dosing you on wacky baccy?"

Angel reached over and covered Spike's hand. "Spike, I trust you," he repeated. "They're waiting for you downstairs, this needs to be done."

Spike shook his head. "No, I can't. Buffy won't let me near her again, I can't do this."

"Yes, you can," Angel replied patiently.



"Buffy knows, we discussed it for a long time. She and I both agree you won't go back to killing. Not after everything you've seen, experienced and done in the last few years. Tara has faith in you, too- we all do." Angel had been surprised when he had realised that he had faith in Spike. He was a sure-footed bastard and a good ally in a fight, back in the day.



But now, since his chip and his relationship with Buffy and her friends and family, Spike had changed again. If Angel hadn't known better, he would have thought the blond vampire had a soul.



Spike shook his head. "No, I can't. I might bite someone and then everything would be over."

"Don't be silly, Spike. I've only known you for a few days and I can see that you're different from other vamps," Connor interrupted Spike's fear infused rambling.

"Ta Junior, but Peaches knows better than any one here I'm a bloody animal." Spike glanced over at Angel.

"You were, but now." Angel shrugged. "The chip forced you to see humans as something other than being Happy Meals on legs you've had to interact with them and adapt. Tara is your friend and so, it appears, are Gunn and Fred. Have you even thought about draining them?" Angel asked.

Spike sat silent, his mind racing trying to remember the last time he had eyed up a neck. It'd been Buffy after she had teased him on the boat, and even then Spike had considered it only as part of their relationship and not as dinner plans. Before that, he couldn't remember a single instance.



"Smart arse." He glowered at Angel. He chuckled at the burst of laughter that exploded out of Connor.



"How did you know?" He demanded.

"Well, I had wondered for a while. But it was Lorne who confirmed it, when you two went out and drank LA dry the other night. You sang, remember?" Angel asked.

Spike shook his head; the whole night was a blur. All he remembered was Buffy making him sleep on the floor in the corridor and waking up with a crick in his neck.

"Well, Lorne inadvertently read you, and if you don't have the chip out, people are going to die."



Angel hesitated mentioning Tara's name, because he knew how fond Spike was of the kind Wiccan. "He also read your future, and Spike, you aren't going to start draining people again. You've moved beyond that."

"He saw all that? And you believe him?" Spike's game face slid off his face.

Angel nodded, "yeah, we all believe him and believe in you. Now go, cos I'm getting tired and I also can't believe I'm having to convince you to get the chip removed! I thought you'd be all for it!" Angel grumped, he was secretly pleased as Spike's hesitance illustrated how far he had come and that it was also the right thing to do.


"Right, but I need to know. Who might die if I'm not de-chipped, and don't give me that look. I can see in your eyes you know who it is, Peaches." Spike waggled a finger at Angel.

"Tara." Angel whispered.

"No...not? Colomba!"

Spike was gone before either Angel or Connor could draw breath to speak.

*********

"In here, Spike." Buffy pulled open the door to the large kitchens. She had been waiting impatiently for Angel and Connor to finish their 'talk' with Spike. The tiny Slayer had reluctantly agreed to let Angel and Connor be the ones to broach the subject of Spike's chip. She had wanted to be the one; it would have been another way of showing how much she trusted her lover.



The entire team had been working quietly on the project once Angel had asked if they could find a way to remove it. Buffy was still in shock that it was Angel who had suggested it, but she had readily agreed. She loved and trusted Spike and knew that there was no way he would slip off the animal blood wagon. He had come too far.

Tara and Fred had been working together to find a way around damaging Spike's brain from the surgery and magical intervention. They had come up with a plan, which would hopefully remove the chip without any cerebral damage. They were waiting in the kitchens for him.

Spike reached over and grabbed Buffy's shoulders. "Tara's gonna be killed!"

Buffy nodded. "I know, Spike, but not if you let them take the chip out. You and I'll protect her, okay?" She rubbed her hands over his chest trying to sooth him. “No one can get through us to her if we’re together!”

Spike's usual sang froid had abandoned him at the thought that one of his girls would be killed and there was nothing he could do but agree to the operation. He had to be able to protect Tara. "I swear I'll not sink my fangs in anyone's neck."

"I know, now shoo." Buffy fluttered her hands and gestured to Spike to precede her.

Spike span on his heel and grabbed Buffy. He pulled her close and kissed her long and hard. Pulling back he covered her flushed face in tender kisses. "Hold my hand? Stay with me while they chop into my noggin?" he begged. He hated showing his vulnerability as a rule, but this was Buffy. He trusted her and wanted his Slayer by his side during the operation.

"Where else would I be, Spike?" Buffy replied sombrely. She was aware how nervous her lover was; his begging her to stay was totally out of character and showed the level of love and trust he had in her.

"Thanks," Spike rested his forehead against her. "Love you."

"Love you, too. But Spike, don't make me look at what they're going to do, okay?" Buffy was slightly green at the thought.

"S'all right, pet." Spike looped an arm around Buffy's slight shoulders, drawing strength from her as they headed into the kitchen.

*********


An hour later…



The sterile kitchen was filled with incense and lit with candles. Tara walked around the island where Fred had set up her surgical table. She chanted under her breath and carried a glowing crystal in her cupped hands.



Fred was peering through her glasses at the hole she had created in the back of Spike’s skull. Her long fingered hands moved confidently as she pushed aside Spike’s brain searching for the elusive chip. The scarring from the previous operation, when the Initiative had first implanted the vampire, was gone, as a result of his supernatural healing. Fred was confident that Spike would recover quickly from the operation due to Tara’s healing spells and his own strong constitution.


Buffy rested her head on Spike's stomach. She was staring up at his calm face worriedly. She was trying to stay brave, but Buffy was terrified for Spike. He was staring back at her reassuringly. The blonde woman turned her head and pressed a kiss against his six-pack and then looked back up at Spike, she fluttered her eyelashes and smiled impishly. She reached up and stroked his sharply defined cheek comfortingly.



Tara and Fred were moving around behind the surgical sheet they had erected; it had a hole cut into it, and this was where Spike's head was pushed through. It was a similar set up to the first time Spike had tried to get de-chipped. Buffy mentally grimaced, glad that the operation was hidden from her eyes. As much as she loved Spike, Buffy would rather not see the inside of his skull. Ever!

Spike's eyes were locked with Buffy's and a faint smile was on his lips. Neither of the lovers said anything. Tara had instructed them to be quiet or her spell of healing would be disrupted. The scent of sage and lavender filled the entire room, and candles were lit at various points. He could sense Gunn and Lorne watching through the window in the door. Their presence calmed him; for many years he had been alone and now he was surrounded by mortals who cared for him, and who were trying to help him.



Spike smiled ruefully. Ten years ago he would have drained them dry and not spared them a thought. But all that had changed the moment he had laid eyes on the tiny fair-haired beauty curled up on his stomach. Spike could finally admit this to himself. He looked down at Buffy and stared in awe, the same awe that had struck him the second he had spotted her dancing in the Bronze.



At the time, Spike had ignored the feelings, as he was focused on getting Dru healthy. But it had been there from the start. Respect, awe, lust and the knowledge that the dance the two of them would engage in would change both their lives. Had he known at the time how their dance would’ve ended up, he would have laughed his head off and then gone out on a rampage.



Fists and fangs to the end.



But now…now, this was all he wanted. Buffy Anne Summers.

Buffy rubbed his chest reassuringly. Her actions pulled him back to the present and away from his reminiscing.



Spike shifted his hips slightly, trying to get comfortable on the hard stainless steel surface. His hands were entangled in Buffy's hair. He wove them around the long locks, anchoring himself to her. Buffy’s arms were draped over his torso; every now and then she would reach up and brush his lips with her fingers.

Buffy had been protectively curled over Spike for over an hour now, while Tara and Fred worked behind the screen. The only noise she had heard was the sound of Fred's instruments in the metal tray and the rather sickening sucking noise when a section of Spike's skull had been removed. Spike had not felt a thing; Fred had given him a local anaesthetic, which numbed the entire area. He contented himself in watching Buffy and tried not to focus on the truly unpleasant feeling of Fred's fingers messing in his brain.

Tara began to chant and Spike stiffened. He could feel Fred pulling something from his brains, 'bugger all, she's got hold of the chip!' He tightened his hold on Buffy's hair and gritted his teeth. 'This feel's disgusting!'

Plink.

That tiny sound was all that Buffy and Spike heard. Their eyes locked Buffy’s were filled with tears and Buffy smiled broadly. She mouthed ‘it's over’, and pressed a kiss to his stomach. Spike closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Since he had been nabbed by the Initiative Soldiers and been de-fanged, he had been hoping to be free of the chip. That was until he and Buffy had decided to have an open and healthy relationship. Actually, to be honest, Spike admitted wryly to himself that he had not thought about the chip since the moment he had realised he was in love with the incredible woman curled up on his belly. It’d been a defining moment that dream, one that Spike still marvelled at.



Since that moment, he had begun to haunt her every move and to help her fight against Glory. Spike had not spared a second thought for the inhibiting chip. Not until Angel had brought it up. And now it was gone.

"Dispare!" Tara whispered. A rush of wind cleared the smoke from the room.

Buffy sat up and cocked her head in question.

"Its okay. Fred's finished, you can talk." Tara gave her a lopsided smile and ducked back behind the screen.

"Spike? You okay?" Buffy ran her fingers over his cheekbones.

"Can't feel a thing, gorgeous. Come ‘ere." Spike reached up and pulled Buffy down. She nuzzled under his chin for a second and then captured his lips in a relieved kiss.

"When you two are finished, Spike can get up." Fred peered over the surgical drape. She reached up and pulled it away.



"All done." She grinned.

Buffy pulled Spike up gently. "Wow, you had to shave so much of his hair off!"

"What!" Spike's hand shot up and reached gingerly for the spot where Fred and Tara had cut into him. He glared at Buffy. "Oh very funny Slayer!"


Buffy sniggered at Spike. "You're so vain," she sang. "Come on, lets get you to bed so you can rest up and heal."

"Hold up, pet." Spike swung his legs off the counter and faced Fred and Tara.



His angular face softened with a big grin. "Thank you, both off you, and especially for managing to not shave any hair off!" He leant over and kissed both of the girls on the cheek. “I promise I won’t let you down, either of you…” he trailed off, overwhelmed.


"Here, Spike." Tara handed him the blood stained Initiative chip. Spike took the small square piece of metal and plastic; he squinted at the tiny thing. "That's it?" Tara nodded and patted him gently on the shoulder.

Buffy reached over and took the chip and dropped it on the floor; she ground it to a fine dust with the heel of her boot. "That was it. Come on, let's get some eau de swine into you and tuck you into bed. You need to get better quickly if we are flying out tomorrow."

Spike looked down at the destroyed chip, and then back up at his ladylove's face in astonishment. "You are incredible, pet."

"I know!" Buffy answered pertly. She turned back to Tara and Fred.



"Thank you, and Tara, get some rest too. We're going to need you in top form in London, okay?"

With that, the two blonds disappeared out of the kitchen, past Lorne and Gunn. Spike stopped and smirked up at the tall green demon. “Thanks mate, not sure what I sung or wot you read, but thanks…”



“Cream Puff, I thought only Angelcakes liked power ballads. I never knew you were a fan of Celine Dion.” Lorne smiled broadly at the look of embarrassment on Spike’s face.



“Spike, man I can’t believe it! That’s worse than Angel singing Manilow!” Gunn grinned.



“Bloody hell…I knew Nibblet makin me watch Titanic over and over would destroy my street cred,” Spike grumbled.



“Titanic?” Buffy chuckled. “Man, that’s so lame!”



“At least I don’t list Deuce Biglow as one of my all time favs!” Spike turned the tables on his Slayer with a smirk. He silently thanked Dawn for that piece of ammo.



Both Lorne and Gunn stared in shock at the furiously blushing Slayer. “On that humiliating note, I’m leaving! Spike, come on, you need to get to bed.” Buffy pulled Spike away from the now laughing pair of AI members. “And if you think I’m ever sleeping with you again you’ve got another thing coming, Blondie bear!”



“Oh luv, come on! Injured man, here. I need your special brand of nursing to get me nice and strong for tomorrow,” Spike pouted.



*********



The sound of bells woke Willow. She rolled away from Rack’s embrace and stared out of the window. In the distance she could see St Pauls Cathedral. The raven-haired Witch stood and walked naked over to the window without a backward glance at her bedmate. She reached over and pressed her hand against the glass. Rack stirred sleepily and rolled onto his stomach. Willow ignored his movements, her pale skin lighted by the sun; the black veins that criss crossed her body stood out in stark contrast.



Willow raised her arms and stretched her aching muscles tiredly. Every inch of her body was exhausted from the non-stop marathon sex games. Willow glanced down at her reddened nipples with a smile. Reaching up she tugged at the silver bolts that were pierced through them, sending a jolt of arousal through her body.



They had been a gift from one of Rack’s friends- a tall demon who had needed an infusion of power from her. Willow had been happy to help, and in return the grateful Chaos demon had gifted her with the piercings. He had taken her to the demonic tattoo parlour and personally supervised as they were inserted. Willow had screamed in orgasm at the sensation of the needles piercing her small nipples. The demon and leant over and soothed her bleeding nipples with his mouth. Rack had stood in the background and laughed at the two of them screwing in the tattooist’s chair. To her surprise, she had especially enjoyed Rack and the technician watching her passionate encounter.



Willow had lost all sexual inhibitions from the moment she and Rack had joined together and escaped to New York. While they had been there, the scar-faced man had introduced Willow to the darker side of sex. And Willow had adored every moment of it. Gradually falling deeper and deeper into the dark arts, all remnants of the sweet shy girl she had been originally was long gone or completely suppressed.



After the encounter in the tattoo parlour, they had gone to a private club and danced the night away. Eventually they had left the Chaos demon in a club on the North End Road and returned to their hotel to continue their magical and sexual games. Rack always reclaimed his control over the fallen Wiccan after she had seduced one of his customers. He was unconcerned about fidelity, telling her that sexual magic was the strongest and she should revel in it. So she did.



Rack had been intrigued by her new jewellery that first night and spent ages playing with her breasts. With a few simple words he had enchanted them until they heated up and glowed red. A trick which Willow adored and petulantly insisted he teach her; he had and now it was one of her favourite spells. One in which they indulged in every night since then. Including last night, Willow thought wryly.



Willow shivered in delight at the pain and pleasure the burning hot metal had evoked in her body. Since succumbing to his power, all her inhibitions about sex with men and demons had vanished. Willow was unconcerned about whom she took to her bed; as long as she was satisfied, she didn’t care who or what she took to her bed.



Occasionally in the quiet of the night, Tara’s face would creep into her mind and the guilt would fill her at her betrayal of her gentle lover. Willow would recoil from the imagined reactions of her former friends- if they saw her like this, they would hate her and be disgusted. She realised that there was no going back, after everything she had done and experienced, Scooby Willow was long gone…



Somehow Rack always knew when Willow was weakening, and he would wake and wrap her in his arms and seduce the guilty thoughts away. Usually these encounters were the most erotic, sensual and painful. Willow would lose herself in his arms, and all guilt would dissipate as she came again and again…



“Strawberry, what are you doing?” Rack’s sleep roughened voice jerked Willow away from her memories.



She turned with a wicked smile. “Nothing! Just enjoying the view…” she sauntered back to their bed, her obsidian eyes glowing with lust.



“Come here…” Rack reached up and grabbed her wrist and yanked her onto his chest.



Willow giggled and rubbed herself against his erection.



Rack reached between them and stroked her hairless groin, reaching between her legs searching for her warm moist cleft. “You feel good…” he drawled.



“So do you, handsome.” Willow sat up and straddled her lover.



Rack reached up and tugged on her nipples, his fingers playing with the bolts, sliding them back and forth. Willow shivered at the sensation. “Hmm…pull them…” she groaned as she ground down on his erection.



Rack tugged on them hard. Releasing her left nipple, his hand slid down her torso and between her legs. “I like you like this, all hairless and smooth. So pretty…”



Willow giggled. “Well you took long enough plucking all my hair out, and it hurt so good…” she pouted. Shifting her hips and reached between her legs. Grasping his cock, the fallen Wiccan guided him into her and began to slowly ride him.



“That’s it, Strawberry…oh yeah…” Rack groaned. He pushed his hips upwards, trying to get as far in to her as he could. The magic user revelled in her tightness; he now knew he was her second male lover. When he had first taken her to his bed, the magic broker had been surprised at how snugly he fit inside her.



He was intrigued, and questioned his new lover about her sexual past. He had known of the girlfriend, but had assumed there had been others before, not just the one. He had been stunned when his wicked girl had revealed her first and only male lover had been a werewolf. “Lie back on my legs,” he ordered.



Willow complied immediately. She gingerly lowered herself, until she was lying flat. The new angle caused his cock to press hard against her g spot and she came hard. Screaming out her bliss. Rack felt her inner walls pulsing around his erection and came with a bellow. Their mutual release caused a chain reaction. A burst of light erupted from both their bodies and magic poured from both of them, filling the room with flashes of multi-coloured sparkles.



Rack rolled his head and watched as the power from their coupling poured into the large steel grey crystal cluster by their bed. ‘That should fill the order for the The Brethren…’



Rack raised himself up onto his elbows and looked down his body to where they were joined. He could see his now limp cock sliding out of Willow followed by a rush of their combined fluids. He reached down and flicked his finger over Willow’s engorged clit. “We’ll have to get that pierced someday…”



Willow stretched and sat up slowly. “Sounds good. But if I’m getting another one, then I want you to get one too…”


 
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