|
|
Chapter 1:
No Tequila Sunrise for me thanks.
by Quwinntessa Starber
The park was cold, but Willow didn't notice; she was too busy trying to drain the last drops from the bottle of Tequila. She pouted when she realized there was no more and threw the bottle against the jungle-gym and watched it shatter into a million pieces and tinkle down to rest in the sand. She giggled uncontrollably, her breath coming in short little gasps.
She had been out here for nearly an hour, but since their last battle with the bad guys nothing major had happened so Willow wasn't really afraid for her life. Which made her giggles turn to sobs. <Why is it that whenever someone wants to see a vampire, there's never one around?!>
Finally her voice rose to meet the accusation in her mind. "Where are all the God damned Vampires!!!" Realizing what she was saying, her hands flew to her mouth to cover it. Then the giggles started all over again.
She was rolling on the ground uncontrollably when Spike came out to greet her. Willow was a disheveled mess. Grass stains covered her pastel clothing, her hair had come out of its swept back style, and her make-up ran in long trails that cascaded down her face. All in all she didn’t look too appetizing to him. "Pet, what the hell are you doing?"
At the sound of Spike's deeply accented and masculine voice, Willow stopped her laughing and stared directly at him. Finally, after what seemed like minutes Willow broke eye contact with the British vampire and looked down at the ground.
Spike was sure this was the little redhead's cue to begin to weep like her namesake, crying 'Please don't kill me Mr. Spike.' But she didn't.
Instead, Willow picked herself up off the ground and approached the unmoving vampire. Her eyes became tangled in his as he watched her move towards him with a slow and slightly staggering--and yet determined--walk. When she was standing right in front of him, she closed her bright green eyes and drew a deep breath. Then she exhaled her wrath.
"Do you want to know what happened tonight?" She paused and waited for his answer. Spike for his part was slightly taken aback. Here was the Slayer’s little girly friend, the mousy one that liked computers more than real people. He had always thought she was insignificant, until he had needed her to do a spell for him. Spike didn't remember much of that night, so many months ago, but he did remember the way her cheeks had flushed and yet paled at the same time when he had threatened to kill her and her boyfriend the mega idiot. She had been so beautiful in that moment, that he had actually considered taking her right there and then; but she had been resourceful, bringing his mind back to the spell at hand and he had forgotten her under-defined beauty.
But she was still supposed to be the good, quiet one. So how come she was outside after midnight, on a school night, in the middle of the park, drinking some heavy booze, and screaming at the top of her lungs for vampires. Not to mention she had just walked up to her mortal enemy and wanted to hold a tea time conversation with him. Needless to say, Spike was slightly intrigue. <Why the bloody hell not? She's going to be the main course tonight anyway, so why not cater to her now? Besides, I want to know what turned the mouse into the cat. > "Alright, Ducks, I bite, what happened tonight?"
Willow tilted her head just so, exposing her long and graceful neck to Spike's dark eyes. He licked his lips involuntarily. Then she smiled at him and he was too stunned by her seemingly lack of common sense to make heads or tails of her. When she spoke, it was like she was reliving the entire thing over again, only this time taking him with her.
"We decided to go Bronzing tonight. Buffy thought it would do me some good, since I haven't been doing well lately. When we got there at eight, it was packed; what else is there to do on a school night after all? So we waded through the crowds of sweaty people and sat at our usually table.
"I picked the table a long time ago, when Jesse was still alive. I told him that there was no way I was going sit at the table next to the speakers for the next four years." She paused then and looked up at Spike, seeming to consider something, "Did you know Jesse?"
It was an innocent question, but Spike had no idea where it came from. Before he could say anything, she was shaking her head. "No I guess not, he was vamped before you even showed up. He was a great guy. He would never have let Oz treat me the way he did tonight; not ever!" The venom in her voice was so unlike the petite Slayerette, that Spike was once again startled. <Damn, I can't believe after two hundred years of living, this little red head has managed to startle me more than anyone else. I must be losing my edge. >
But Willow was continuing. "I know I started it." She cast her eyes away from him and looked down at the ground again. Her voice became a tiny whisper. "I kissed Xander and that started this whole thing. I know I messed things up for me and Oz, but I really wanted to make things right. I really wanted to get him to forgive me. I mean I tried everything; and I do mean everything!" Her face suddenly flooded with color which Spike--with his predator night-vision--could easily see. "But it didn't work.
"I knew his band was playing tonight. So I watched him all night from the table. I watched as he moved his lips silently to the words Devon was singing so as to keep up. I was so excited when the band took a break. I picked up my jacket, told Buffy I wasn’t feeling good so I was going to catch a cab home, and headed for the bathroom to get all prettied up for Oz. I was only in the bathroom for a few minutes. Then I slipped through the crowd and made for the backstage area. I knew where everything was from when Oz had let be go back with him…when we were still together.
"But when I got back there I wanted to surprise him, you know, get him excited to see me so maybe we could do more than the usual 'Hi Oz!', 'Willow I need space,' thing. So I threw open the door to the band set up area and there he was like always, sitting on one of the old speakers that the Bronze keeps back there as chairs. Only this time, he wasn't alone like usual. No this time he had that--that blond bimbo on his lap! And do you know what they were doing?" Spike shook his head, but he already knew the answer; he had be a teenage boy once after all. "They were playing Smoochies!"
A little sob escaped Willow’s lips at the sound of the now hated word. She brought her hands up and covered her face as she sobbed quietly into her palms. Spike was still so amazed that she wasn't running away from him in fear that he still hadn't done a thing. The sobs violently and yet silently wracked her body, causing her to tremble uncontrollably.
Cocking an eyebrow at the red head in confusion, he watched without moving as her knees gave out and her body descended to the waiting ground. With her on the ground and not in any position to get away, Spike took a second to look around the area where he was standing. It was then that sudden realization dawned on him as to why this little mousy red head had no fear when she looked into his eyes. Three shattered bottles lay at the bottom of a twisted metal climbing device. From the labels he could tell two were vodka, and one was tequila. He silently wondered how this little girl—obviously underage—had gotten the bottles. But he never had the chance to ask the question, the red head was standing up.
Willow teetered on the edge of standing fully erect or falling completely over, but she somehow managed to correct herself. Black lines flowed down her face, reminding Spike of the sad clowns at the carnival he'd seen in his youth. She looked suddenly so strange, with her dark eye make-up smudging her eyes into an almost gothic style. Spike was beginning to like the change in this little firecracker.
Her mouth opened to say something and then abruptly shut as if someone had smacked her in the face. Eyes really seeing him for the first time, she looked like she was about to scream. <Here we go. I bloody well knew we were going to get to this part sooner or later. > But he was disappointed. Instead of screaming, Willow began to giggle. And then her giggling turned into full-fledged laughter, until she was holding her sides and gasping. Spike was expecting her to start rolling on the ground again, like when he'd first sighted her this evening.
Then just as suddenly as it had begun, Willow stopped laughing, wiped the tears from her eyes and regarded him quizzically.
Shifting slightly under the red head’s gaze, Spike seemed almost nervous. Suddenly, Willow reached up and touched his nose. That thrust Spike out of his shyness real fast. "Just what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" He had no idea whether this girl was going to laugh herself to death or startle him to a second one. He was also beginning to wonder why he hadn't killed her yet. He didn't have an answer.
Willow had withdrawn her hand nearly the moment she had touched his face and now she seemed to be struggling to answer his question. A question with a question. "Why haven't you killed me yet?"
Spike wasn't sure if she had read his mind or just had a death wish tonight. "Do you want me to kill you?"
He'd expected her to shake her head 'No' and to back away from him. But instead she looked right into his eyes once more and said in a loud voice. "Why the hell do you think I've been waiting out here all night!?"
Once again Spike was dumbfounded. Was this girl really asking to die? "Wait, let me get this straight, Pet. You've been waiting for me to get here so I could kill you? What the bloody hell did this Oz guy do to you?" He didn't know why he asked the last question, it wasn't like he cared, but he did expect an answer. He got it.
Willow stepped back and threw her arms out from her sides into a cross fashion and began to spin. She suddenly reminded Spike of one of the first nights he and Dru had gone hunting. Dru had wailed like a banshee after the kill and had spun in fast, tight circles until he'd caught her around the waist and brought her into his embrace.
But the girl in front of him was human, not an insane monster, and Spike was beginning to wonder, whether or not he should just kill her to end her misery or go after her ex-boyfriend. The sound of Willow screaming at the top of her lungs brought his senses back to reality.
"HE HURT ME!!! HE HURT ME!!! HE HURT ME!!! HE HURT ME!!! HE HUR--" He didn't know why he'd done it, but the moment he realized what the tiny girl was screaming he had grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into his arms and against his chest.
He felt her wrap her arms around him to clasp together behind his back. Her head rested against his chest and he could feel her warm breath touch his cold and long dead skin. Suddenly, her knees gave out and he was supporting her, holding her like he'd never done with a human he wasn't feeding from.
She didn't utter a sound for the longest time and Spike was beginning to wonder what had happened to the little firecracker who had been so intent on bring the wrath of the Slayer down on his head. When she finally spoke however, it was a whisper which even his sensitive ears had to lean in to hear. "When I'm dead, please don't leave my body in my house like Angel did to Giles. I couldn't bare it if my parents had to find me."
Maybe it was her voice, or maybe the fact that the moonlight overhead was striking her hair just so, but Spike lifted her chin with is long, slim fingers and brought her eyes to look for a long moment into his. "I promise, Pet."
She nodded once and then allowed the vampire to tip her head slightly to the left. Then she closed her eyes and waited.
Bringing his human face down to her beautiful neck, Spike laid light kisses around the area before his face changed and he sunk his dagger like teeth into her jugular.
Willow moaned under the feel of her life slowly slipping away from her body and opened her eyes to look up at the moon. Suddenly, there was one more thing she had to do. Drawing in a shaky breath, she let it out in a whisper of death. "Thank you, Spike." And then silently, she let her world fall black with death.