Chapter 15:

A Phone Without Wires--Bell Would Have Shit Himself!

by Quwinntessa Starber

 The library was warmly lit and cheerful when Willow entered. Spike sat in one of the chaste loungers, waiting for her. He smiled a greeting, throwing his right leg over the side so that she could easily position herself between his legs, easily rest her head against his chest and listen to the sound of his beautiful voice as he read to her from their most current novel, Of Mice and Men. Both had read the book before, but she'd wanted to read it, having forgotten some of the more key elements to the book.

As his face registered her expression, Willow watched the smile falter, saw the subtle shift of his body as he instantly became alert.

"What is it, Luv? What's happened?"

Her right hand was still clasped behind her back, her fingers idly playing with the criss cross of ivory white cord that held the back of her flowing white dress together. Self consciously, she clutched the small bit of metal and plastic in her hand, feeling the bite of the clip as it scratched the inside of her palm.

She was standing still now, five feet in front of her beautifully handsome lover. Her feet felt cold against the hard wood floor and absently she wondered why she hadn't put shoes on, then she remembered what was in her hand.

"Willow?"

She looked up, offered her lover a quirky smile that soon melted into a frown. She hated the way his eyes moved back and forth over her face, hated the way his muscles were tensing more and more as the seconds ticked by. She knew what he was thinking, how could he not after all the other injuries she'd inflicted on herself? But that wasn't the case today; today she needed something from him.

Drawing a shaky breath, Willow pulled her right hand in front of her, wanting to show Spike that she hadn't hurt herself, that she was still in control. It'd been nearly two weeks since they'd made love, since he'd placed his mark upon her body, and bound them forever. Since that night, Willow's strength and confidence had returned, and with each passing hour she felt herself become more and more whole, and more and more in love with her mate.

He'd been so gentle with her since that night. He'd cared for her wounds tenderly, but never asking for forgiveness, as if he knew the wounds had been required. But she hadn't needed any apologies. She'd needed his touch, his presence, and his gentle kisses, which were slowly being tempered with more and more of the demon.

Slowly, as if he'd been holding back for the two months prior to their bonding, Spike was allowing the demon side of him to emerge in her presence. It'd been scary the first time. They'd been out picking berries by the cliffs when she'd spotted a rather beautiful clump of them growing by the ledge and had inched closer to grab a hold of them. She'd been close, but not that close, when Spike's heart stopping growl came a split second before he grabbed her about the waist and swung her away from the edge.

His eyes had shone golden, the full mask of the demon upon his face, and those long dagger like fangs had been bared by thinning lips. But the sight hadn't scared her--if truth be told it'd done the exact opposite, it had enflamed her. Eyes wide with lust, she looked at him, and behind the flickering gold, she'd seen the answering call, he knew what he was doing to her, his mate.

"You were too close, you could have fallen over." His words had been slightly slurred by the fangs, but Willow heard clearly the undercurrent of anger and perhaps slight worry. She'd known instantly that this had less to do with danger and far more to do with control. She could have given it away, could have agreed and backed down, but neither one of them wanted her to do that. No, both wanted her to fight, the chase was almost always worth the trouble, and so she'd stood her ground and faced the demon part of the man she loved, which she loved just as much.

"You're being silly. I wasn't anywhere near the edge. Besides, I didn't see you going for those berries; no, you were sticking rather close to the ground, weren't you?" Her voice was mocking, but her eyes held the longing, that she knew he could see, that he understood because it was basic and primitive, and held her complete submission.

She never saw him move, just felt his calf connect with the back of her knees; and then she was falling, only to be caught at the last second by arms as strong as steel, and as gentle as velvet. When she'd looked into his eyes, they were wild with a mixture of anger and need, and light that spoke of pride.

He'd taken her right there, out in the open with only the blackberry bushes to prevent the ocean from witnessing their lovemaking. His grip had been hard, but never enough to mark her, and wounds he caused when he fed from her were quickly healed. It had been the most erotic night in her life, a heady mixture of pain and pleasure that sent her into quick shivers of lust if she dwelt too long on the memory.

Spike had left the horses to their own devices that night, and carried her back to the house on his own; both leaving their clothing to catch on the wind and be discovered the next day torn and ruined, by the thorns of the bush or by fingers and claws, neither knew.

That night, admits the silk sheets and cool feel of Spike's chest under her cheek, she'd come to realize something very important. Spike, her Spike, was not as he always appeared. It was in his nature to be loving and gentle, but it was also in his nature to be ruthless and cruel. She'd fallen in love with a being half in the world of light, and half in the world of darkness, one who could bring her roses one minute, and bruise her flesh without remorse the next. He didn't want to hurt her, only obtain her complete and total obedience; not to enslave her, but to protect her. He knew what she liked and didn't like, what she needed and what would truly hurt her. He was walking a fine tightrope of control, and he was doing it all for her.

That night, she'd kissed him awake before moving to sit astride his body. She watched his eyes flicker from blue to gold and back again as she'd claimed him as her own, asserting her own power over him. She was his slave, just as much as he was hers. They were master to each other, and therefore equal in all ways. The demon was there, always lurking, but so was her poet, and she welcomed both, eager to feel the intensity of their battles as she provoked them both to their fullest potential.

But now in the library, Willow's mind felt hesitant as Spike held out his hand to her left one, letting her know he wanted her to sit with him, but was willing to wait to hear her explanation. She moved silently, the only sound coming from the popping of sap in the fire, and the rustle from the folds of silk around her legs. When she was seated beside him, he tried to pull her into the shelter of his strong body, but she resisted, needing to face him now, needing every advantage for what she was about to ask.

"Willow," She looked up, her deep green eyes locking with the blue of the sky. "Tell me what's wrong Luv. Tell me so I can fix it."

Smiling, Willow shook her head. "You told me to get dressed."

Spike chuckled. "Luv, if I'd known that asking you to put some clothes on would give you that expression on your face, I'd have gladly suffered though watching you move about naked. But it was you who was complaining about soreness." His right hand rose from his knee to caress her cheek before coming to rest possessively behind her neck, his fingers brushing the fine baby hairs that curled there.

She was sore. Keeping up with the stamina of the undead was quite a feat, and Willow was still trying to adjust. As skilled fingers continued their assault, she closed her eyes and gave herself to the momentary pleasure of this simple contact. He always knew how to touch her, how to please her. Part of her resented the fact that there had been countless women before her, while the other part was grateful, knowing she now reaped the benefits of 200 years worth of experience.

Spike chuckled again before Willow opened her eyes and sadly pulled away from him. For a moment the demon surfaced, and for the briefest second Spike's grip went hard and demanding, before the muscles relaxed and he drew his hand back.

Forcing her eyes to her hand, Willow opened her palm and looked at the small block of plastic. Spike's hand came to rest under hers as she spoke. "I found it in my jeans, the ones I was wearing that night in Sunnydale. It.it went into powersave mode. When I turned it on.Spike," She looked up into his eyes, felt herself being drawn. "Spike, it's my mom and dad. They've been trying to find me. And Xander, Xander's number is on here too." She shook the pager a little to emphasize its importance. "Spike, they didn't just forget me, they've been looking for me. Look. That number there is Xander's emergency number for me, it means I have to call him right away, and he called me only four days ago. Look, look at these numbers, Xander's paged me eight times this week! Spike my mom--"

"Can rot in hell where she belongs." The words were spoken in a deep chest growl that told Willow she'd tempted the demon.

Looking up with desperately pleading eyes, Willow watched the gold flicker in and out. "Spike, I have to call them. I have to let them know that I'm alright. I can't just--"

"NO!" He moved quickly and deliberately, seizing the pager before shifting around her body to stand three paces away. She was right behind him.

Jumping to her feet, Willow moved, placing herself directly in front of him. A long time ago, Xander had quoted his particular expression she now wore, deeming it her "resolve" face. If he could have seen it now, he would have been both proud and terrified.

"I have to call them, Spike. They must be worried sick about me. My mom I don't care about that much--not really. But Xander, my papa, I can't just let them worry about me like that! I don't know what I was thinking these last two months, but I can't just pretend that you and I are the only two people in the entire world anymore. Spike, I have to call them, I have to let them know that I'm alright!" There was a touch of anger in her voice, but mostly the conviction to make him understand that this wasn't an option she was giving him, more like a request to make this easier on the both of them by agreeing.

His expression had gone from concerned to stone. Wearing black jeans and a red silk shirt he looked dark and dangerous as he stood there, glaring down at her. The gold was gone, as if the demon and the poet had reconciled to agree on this one issue which Willow now forced upon them. When he finally spoke, Willow couldn't help but shiver at the oppressive sound of death in his voice.

"You are not calling anyone. These people," he shook the pager, "They're worse than anything the Hellmouth could have expelled on its own. They rip you apart every chance they get! You're mom since you were a baby, you father since you understood what it meant to hurt so bad you couldn't breath; and Xander that pathetic excuse for a boy hid under your skirt while you protected the lot of them! You don't owe them anything, Willow, not a damn thing, and I won't allow you to hurt yourself by trying to make life easier for a bunch of prats. Now just forget you ever found this thing, it doesn't mean anything to you."

She could see it in the way his arm muscles began to tighten, saw the conviction in his eyes a second before she screamed and launched herself at his hand, fingers desperately groping for the pager about to be crushed with vampire strength.

Startled by Willow's scream, and the launching of her smaller frame, Spike stumbled and then fell, rolling quickly to pin Willow's squirming form beneath his. He was too stunned to be angry, and as he listened to her half sobbed words, he heard the beginnings of begging.

"Spike, don't break it! Please don't break it! Please, papa's trying to find me, I have to call him, I have to! Spike he's not that young, he was forty-five when I was born; his heart can't take it! Please, please let me call him, let me call papa and Xander. I won't talk long I promise, I won't even talk to mother if you don't want me to, but I have to call them, I have to tell them not to worry about me!" Exhausted from the struggle, Willow covered her face with her hands, and her final words were deeply muffled behind the flesh. "I don't want them to worry about me anymore, I want them to know that I'm with you, that I'm safe and happy. I want them to know I'm with you." The sob caught in her throat, and the tears were trickling down her cheeks when he finally managed to brace himself on his elbows and gently remove her hands.

She wanted them to know she was with him.

That one thought raced through his head, bouncing back and forth. She was lying beneath him, crying because she wanted those people she couldn't help but love to know that they could let her go, that she had him now, that she didn't need them anymore. She hadn't said those exact words, but Spike knew her now, understood her motives almost more than she did. That's how he knew that his mental explanation would cover Willow's parents, but not the boy she'd once loved.

It was in the way she said his name, the way he seemed to crop up in their conversations. He remembered what it was like to think back on your first love, he'd had two, one before his turning and one after. That first love stuck with you, through time and circumstance. The pathetic human boy was that love for Willow, and though he hated it, though his demon rebelled against it, he knew he had no choice but to let her say good-bye. And it was good-bye. He wasn't willing to share her, no one would have her as he did. Willow was his mate, his queen, and no one, not a past love or even his sire would take her from him--no one!

Slowly, his fingertips brushed her cheeks, lifting the tears away from her delicate skin. He watched her forest eyes open, watched as they swam with sadness and just the smallest flash of hope. Bringing her tears to his lips he flicked his tongue out to taste her sadness, wanting to remember the taste just as he vowed that he'd do everything in his power to prevent them from ever coming again.

With a deep sigh, he dropped his forehead to hers, rested it there as his superior version allowed him to focus on her features from such a close proximity. Shaking his head slightly, Spike tipped his chin downwards to brush his lips against hers, grateful when she pressed to deepen the kiss.

"I don't want you to call them, Willow. I think they'll only hurt you more." His words were whisper quiet, and Willow could feel the cool breath behind the words against her lips and cheeks.

Blinking her eyes in acknowledgment, she lifted her tear soaked hand to his cheek brushing at imaginary hairs. "I know, but I have to. Just a few minutes; just to let them know that they don't have to worry about me anymore. Papa's a worrier Spike, he'll put himself into an early grave wondering if I'm alive or dead, or hurt."

His eyes were sharp and focused. "I don't see a lot of bad coming from that, Pet. I'll be the first person standing in line to off the bastard for treating the way he did. I'm of the mind to go back to SunnyHell and end his pussy-whipped existence right now." He shifted, rising up a little to kiss her forehead while pressing the length of his body against hers.

She nodded, just the smallest fraction of a nod, but one none the less. "I know. But I can't do it that way, Spike not right now. Please, if you can't understand, at least respect my decision. Five minutes, that's all I'm asking for; you can even stay with me if you want."

"Damn right I'm staying with you!" He reared back, sitting onto his knees, as his hands helped lift her into a sitting position. "You think I'd let my own woman face something like that by herself, you've got to be pissed."

He wasn't ready for the giggle. It sounded a bit watery, still drowning under the stoppered tears, but it was a giggle none the less, and Spike couldn't help but smile at hearing it or her next words. "Since when did I become, 'Your woman'? Honestly, Spike, no one talks like that anymore, and more than that, I'm not "your woman", like some piece of property."

The mood was lightened, and she'd gotten her way. Spike felt his demon begin to pace at the back of his mind. It was allowing Willow this concession because it lost nothing, but as it paced back and forth it made damn sure that he knew that if its mate was hurt during the conversation, Rosenburg blood would be spilled, and it wouldn't be Willow's.

Bringing his hands up, he gripped her about the waist and behind the neck and pulled her body towards his. With the silk under her bottom she glided easily into his body, and then he was kissing her, establishing his claim. He knew she understood and so he didn't hold back, allowing his tongue to possess her mouth, to drive all thought of resistance from her body as his hands moved into her hair to position her mouth where he wanted it.

The kiss was long and commanding; establishing the rules of the following exchange. Willow would get her call, under the full knowledge that he was watching, and that his word would rule the exchange.

When he pulled back he kissed her nose, wanting to keep things light for as long as possible. Spike smiled a predatory grin down at her bedroom eyes. "And what's so wrong with that title? I'll have you know that in the vampire community, to call you "my woman" is quite an honor."

Willow rolled her eyes even as the smile split her face. "An honor for who?" She asked as Spike stood and offered her a hand up.

He pulled harder than was required, and Willow stumbled into his embrace before he kissed her again. "Why me of course. I told you, vampires are a matriarchal society. Calling you my woman is like saying I'm a kept vamp. Actually, it might be nice to be a kept vampire for a while, haven't done that in decades." He flashed her his teeth before drawing her under his shoulder and out of the library.

"Well if you're waiting for me to start bringing home dinner for you, you're sadly mista--wait, I am dinner.never mind." Their laughter followed them into Spike's study.

Once again, he lifted her onto the dark desk, kissing her lips once more before moving to the wall safe. For a moment he flashed back to two weeks ago, when he'd done the same thing, gone for the same object--before he pushed the memory out of his mind. That conversation had been disturbing to say the least. Something had been terribly off about Peaches, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Shaking his head, he decided not to dwell on it, he had more important things to worry about now.

Combination entered, he pulled the handle and opened the mini vault. Inside were various documents, including the deed to the house and property, along with a few odds and ends he'd kept from his more poofy days. Impatiently, he pushed aside an envelope containing some of his old and horrible poetry. Gods below, could he ever have been that pathetic?

When his hand hit the metal case, he grabbed the handle and pulled it out. The briefcase was medium sized, and he carried it back to the desk without closing the safe. The combination was easily entered into the twin locks, and then he was lifting the top, exposing the satellite phone and all its complicated parts. He looked up just in time to see Willow staring at it with eyes the size of saucers. He couldn't help but laugh. "Honestly Luv, you didn't think a dinky little cell phone would work all the way out here, did you?"

Her eyes glittered with the joke, but her words reminded him of one very important fact, "You forget, I still don't know where we are. Speaking of which, are you ever going to tell me?"

Spike chuckled. "Cor, that's right, I still haven't told you yet, have I?" She shook her head, and he saw the flash of hope and curiosity enter her eyes. Finding something to teaser her with, Spike winked. "Well then, I guess if you can keep this little hello/good-bye conversation down to less than five minutes, I might be tempted to let a few town names slip-- hell, I might even take you to a few of them."

She caught him off guard again when her hand fell against his chest and bunched the shirt in her fist. When he looked, her eyes were full of hope and longing. "Do you mean it, Spike? Really? You might take me out for a little while, show me where we are? I've been so curious, but I thought you'd never tell me, so I just gave up. Are you really serious?"

Angry with his own forgetfulness, Spike's hand found her cheek again before circling back to brush the back of her neck. "I completely forgot that I hadn't told you yet, Luv. I meant to tell you ages ago, but it just slipped my mind. And here you've been so good, trying not to pester me about it." She nodded hopefully. "Well, I'll tell you what, promise me you'll keep the call short--you don't want to know how much this stupid bugger costs me a minute!--and I'll be sure to remember that you deserve a nice outing with dinner and sightseeing. Sound fair?"

She flung herself at him then, and he caught her, holding her tight, half in happiness to have her in his arms, and half out of fear of letting her go. The call was going to be painful, and he didn't relish having to put her back together over the next few days, but if it was what she needed, he'd provide.

Distress made him seek his mark upon her neck, and he bathed the light scars with his tongue for a moment in self-comfort. She was his, no matter what happened during this stupid phone call, she belonged to him-- with him! No one would hurt her and live!

Her moan was airy, a breathless sound that brought his body to full attention. The demon stopped pacing, and instead raced to the front of his consciousness. Fighting for control, he pulled back, kissing her cheek before turning away to calm himself and pretend to be busy with the complicated phone.

When his body was under relative control and the phone had been powered up, he hesitated, weighing once again the pros and cons of letting her make this phone call. In the end, she'd asked him, and he couldn't deny her anything she requested. With regret he lifted her from the desk and deposited her into a more comfortable chair, passing her the bulky handset.

For some reason, even with Spike's agreement, Willow felt a sudden weight fall upon her as she took the phone into her hand. It wasn't that heavy, light for a piece of equipment that could send her voice up into space and back down to a telephone goddess knew how far away.

She wanted to be brave, to convey the strength of her conviction in her actions, but she couldn't help hesitating, her finger poised over the number pad of the phone. Her throat felt suddenly dry, but she swallowed anyway, trying desperately to lubricate her throat and keep from coughing.

Drawing in a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and closed her eyes to gather her courage. The gentle lips that touched her own were more comforting than anything. Soft as velvet, Spike kissed her, brushing his lips across her own again and again before moving them lightly across her cheek to her ear.

"You don't have to do this, Willow. You don't need them anymore. I can understand wanting closure. Hell, that seems to be the story of my life sometimes, but they're not important anymore. You've made your decision to stay with me. Let them suffer. Let them worry and cry and feel alone. They deserve it, but you, you don't deserve to have to listen to them do those things when you talk to them. Leave them behind and stay here with me. It's time to be free of them Willow, we can be free together." His hands were still warm from the blood she'd given him weeks ago on that fateful night, the heat never leaving his body. Now his fingers were playing against the back of her neck, in a light grip that was at once possessive and enticing.

As much as she didn't want to, as much as her body fought her, her mind won out and she shook her head. It almost hurt when Spike's presence over her retreated as he moved to lean back against the desk and left her with nothing but that cold phone in her hand.

Willow's eyes sought his as she tried one last time to explain. "Please try to understand, this doesn't have anything to do with us. I'm doing this to finish it. No more responsibility, no more guilt. This will end it and I'll be free, just like you said."

He didn't nod but Willow knew he understood. She didn't dare test her resolve any further, and blindly depressed the button that would make the connection live.

For a few horribly quiet seconds, nothing came through the receiver. The dead sound of fate rung quietly before a sudden beep and the normal dial tone of a ringing phone came through. The rings were paced, but to her they sounded shorter than they should have been, as if the inevitable were streaking towards her faster than she could possibly hope to outrun it.

When she heard the click, she realized she'd been holding her breath, and as she exhaled and the phone was lifted to someone's waiting ear, Willow's panicked eyes watched as Spike knelt down before her and rested a large hand on her knee. She was immediately calmer.

"Hello?"

The voice sounded old and weathered, as if it had fought the world and hadn't even stood a chance. Tired and drained, lacking in life and luster, completely and totally beaten-and it was her father.

This time, Willow didn't hesitate.

"Papa."

So simple a word. For some it had meaning, and for others it didn't. Today, for Willow and the man on the other end of the call, it did.

"W-Willow? Willow is that you?"

She caught Spike's eye, held it as she spoke into the receiver and sealed her fate. "Yeah, Papa, it's me."

"Oh my God, Willow." And through the despair and desperation, Willow heard the one thing no little girl ever wanted to admit her father was capable of doing-she heard her father begin to sob. "My girl.my baby, baby girl."

Suddenly the enormity of the situation came to her as it never would have any other way. Her parents had left her alone again, something they always did, and yet this time things had gone horribly wrong. As far as they knew they'd arrived home-or maybe they'd received a phone call from the police, maybe even Xander-saying that she'd been kidnapped or even killed. They had no way of knowing what had happened to her and so they'd had to wait and hope, and in her father's case, pray.

For over two months they'd known nothing, waiting and praying for her safe return. For over two months.they'd lived every parents nightmare.

Suddenly, it was far too real.

"Papa.oh Papa, I'm so sorry." Her tears soon matched the intensity of the ones her father wept. Again and again they spoke, both in broken phrases and tears that couldn't be stopped.

She barely felt it when Spike lifted her into his arms and resettled her onto his lap as he replaced her in the chair. As she cried into the phone and her father matched her, Spike's large, comforting hands ran through her long hair and across her body; always reminding her that she was not alone.

Through the tears and the painful sounds of her father's sobs, Willow knew that some part of her needed to recognize the man that now held her; to reassure him as he had her. Her free hand came up, her fingers lightly dancing across his check, and she knew she'd done the right thing when he nuzzled her palm.

And then, almost as if the evil had somehow managed to invade their small little world, Willow heard her father's sobs abruptly halt as he drew in a sharp breath. She heard the phone shift and she knew, without asking, without hearing the first tell tale signs, her mother had just entered the room. She stiffened, her body going ridged, and no amount of comfort on Spike's part could ease the tightness.

But something was oddly different. The voice, when she finally heard it, wasn't as sharp as she remembered it, wasn't as commanding as it had been two months ago. Like her father's, it sounded beaten and wary; and just as Willow thrilled to hear it, she felt the deepest sorrow as well.

"Ira? Ira, what's wrong? Willow? It isn't Willow is it? Oh God, please tell me it isn't her! Ira! Ira, tell me it isn't Willow! Tell me it isn't her!"

As her father's voice became soothing if not a bit rough, Willow closed her eyes against the pain of her mother's words. Could she hate her that much that Sheila Rosenburg would so hate the idea of her daughter calling on the phone?

As her father spoke softly in the background of her ear, it was Spike that answer the question so easily written upon her face.

"She's in denial, Pet. She thinks your dad's crying because you're dead." Later, Willow would understand how hard it was for him to tell her the truth rather than let her believe the horror of her mother.

"Willow! Willow, who is that with you? Who's there? I heard a man's voice, Sheila!"

"Oh God!"

"Willow! Willow, you listen to Papa! Has that bastard hurt you, Willow? Has he done something to you?! Willow, tell me where you are and I'll come get you! I'll come right now! Wherever you are, it doesn't matter. Mamma and I aren't mad at you Willow. We love you so much, so, so much. We want to bring you home. Just tell me where you are, Princess and Papa will come get you. Willow, please tell me where you are."

He'd broken towards the end, and Willow heard the pain her disappearance had caused him explode in the dark recesses of his voice.

How she gathered her courage she had no idea. How she managed to open her mouth and begin the conversation she'd never be able to explain later. But she had to, and so she did.

"I-I'm ok, Papa. I called because I didn't want you and moth-mamma to worry about me. I-I'm ok. I-I'm not hurt. I'm ok-no, I'm better than ok. Papa," on their own, her eyes came to rest in a sea of blue so familiar that she knew every fluctuation of color in them. "Papa, for the first time in my life.I'm happy. Really and truly happy." The smile on Spike's face was pure and true, and within it was the depth of his relief.

She heard the sound of her father protesting, before a scuffle sounded and then suddenly, it wasn't her father anymore.

"Willow, it's Mamma. Hunny, it's all right; everything is going to be ok. Sweetheart, I need you to listen to, Mommy now. I know that-that sometimes we've had our differences, but I want you to know that I love you. I love you so much. Hunny please tell me where you are, please. Papa.Papa told me you were happy, and-and that's a very good thing. We want you to be happy, but Willow you need to tell us where you are now. We've been so worried about you. The police, everyone thought you'd been- well it doesn't matter what they thought because I'm talking to you right now! Sweetheart, listen to me please, if, if you don't want us to come, that-that's ok, we understand. But Willow you have to tell us where you are; give us a phone number we can call you at. You've been gone for so long.so long without.without any contact.we thought, oh Willow we thought you were dead!"

For once, the tears sounded sincere. For once the emotions sounded real. For once, her mother sounded utterly human.

It was to the humanity that Willow responded.

"Mamma. Mamma, I'm alright; I'm safe and happy. I know I scared you. I.had to work some things out for myself for a while and." she paused, looking at her lover for both support and to make him understand her next words. "Mamma, I don't expect you to understand this, you or Papa, but.I've.I'm in love Mamma. He's.amazing. He makes the world beautiful again, Mamma. He makes all the pain worth it. I love him so much, so much that sometimes he's all I see. Everything I've been through my entire life, all the hell and the suffering, it's worth it because of him. He-he's my savior, Mamma, my angel, even if he'd say otherwise."

"Willow-" Panic was in Sheila Rosenburg's voice, and Willow moved quickly to stop it.

"I know you're worried. I'm sorry I made you worry about me, really I am. I know you think something horrible has happened to me, that Spi- William tricked me somehow, but he didn't. For the first time in my life he's been completely honest with me. There aren't any lies between us, no half-truths. He treats me like a queen. I know what you're thinking, that he's brainwashed me, but he hasn't, really Mamma-"

"Willow, he kidnapped you! You can't tell me that-"

"Yes he did." She cut her mother off again. "He did, and to be honest with you, he was going to kill me." She heard her mother gasp and her father beg to know what was being said. "But he didn't, and for the first time in my life Mamma-the first time-I don't feel dead inside. William's the best thing that ever happened to me, Mamma, I love him, more than anything or anyone in the entire world, and he loves me back and we're going to be happy and together for a very, very long time." Leaning up, she brushed her lips against Spike's cheek, offering him a brilliant smile.

Her father had somehow been briefed and had gotten back the phone.

"Willow, I don't know what that man did to you, but I need you to listen to Papa-"

"No." Where one minute she'd had her heart open and exposed she now had it guarded. Her voice was instantly colder her demeanor closed off so that Spike had to give her a loving squeeze to remind her that her father wasn't standing before her. "William didn't do anything to me but love me, and if you can't understand that then I really pity you.

"And honestly Papa, I don't care what you think or what you want to say. William and I love each other, and he's taken care of me when no one else did. When you and mother left me for months on my own, he hasn't left my side since we left. He's not just kind and loving towards me, he believes in me, worships me just like I do him. I know you think he's done something to me, but you can just get that out of your head right now. We- "

Suddenly an idea struck her, and her eyes widened as she turned to look up at Spike. She saw the question enter his eyes before she made the decision to just do what she thought was right. Besides, it wasn't like a lie-not exactly.

"Besides Papa, William and I.we're married. We got married in a beautiful garden-"

She expected the interruption.

"You what?! Willow-"

"And he's not Jewish. He's.um." she turned to look at Spike and blushed prettily.

"Um, what religion are you anyway?"

He laughed, the sound strong and proud, filled with mirth, acceptance, and love. Spike smiled evilly then. "Well that depends. Do you want to make him mad or tell him the truth?" Willow put a mock stern expression on her face and he laughed again. "Oh fine. You can tell him I, WAS, Protestant."

Willow smiled at him as she heard her father shout on the other end of the phone. Her smile was coy and she gave him a soft wink as she pressed her hand, first to her lips and then to his. He returned the gesture in kind, offering her support.

"Papa, getting upset won't change anything. William and I are happy and together and that's all that matters to us. I called to let you know that I was alright and that you didn't have to worry about me anymore-"

Her father's voice was hard and angry when he spoke. "Not worry! Not worry! You've been missing for two months, Willow. Mamma and I had no idea where you were, no idea if you were alive or dead! You didn't call to let us know anything. Xander found your jacket in the park with blood on it, and the police kept telling us to give up hope. Do you have any idea what the people at home have been going through?

"Willow, please, all we want to know is where you are and to see you. That's it. That's not so much to ask, now is it? We just want to see with our own eyes that you're alright, that your.that your husband's treating you right. Willow, if you won't do it for your mom and I, then do it for Xander. He's not doing well, Willow. He was so worried about you all the time, he dropped out of school and.your mother and I think he might need psychiatric help. Willow, if he could just see you, just talk to you, I know that he'll get better. Willow please, if your so happy then don't deny the rest of us the same happiness. If you are happy then I respect that, you're-you're old enough to make your own decisions, but I'm still your father, and it's my job to make sure you really are safe, that that man hasn't hurt you."

Something was wrong with Xander.

Might need psychiatric help.

Xander could get better if she talked to him.

He's suffering.

She didn't even have to think about her decision.

"H-how is Xander now? You'll tell him that I'm alright, won't you? You'll tell him I'm ok and that he doesn't have to worry about me anymore, right? Papa?"

"Willow, hearing it from me won't help. He needs to hear it from you, he needs to see you. Princess, just tell Papa where you are and we'll bring Xander up to see you. We'll bring all your friends to see you. Even your friend from that band, and Buffy, and I promise to make sure your mother calls her Buffy and not Bunny."

He kept talking, but Willow couldn't hear him anymore, Spike had taken the phone from her. With the mouth piece covered, Spike forced her to look at him.

"Luv, what's wrong?"

The shock was plain on her face. "It's Xander, he's ill. Spike, I-I have to talk to him, I have to let him know that I'm alright. My dad says that Xander's gone crazy, that he thinks he might need real help. Spike, he's my best friend, I can't just leave him like that, I can't, and I won't! I have to call him, I have to let him know that I'm alright!"

"Shhhhhh." Gentle fingers brushed against her cheek as her father continued to talk into the phone. "Red, your parents talked about the dog and the Slayer. You know that if you go and see them you'll have to see the both of them as well, don't think for a minute the bitch-both of them- will say home when they know their whipping girl's come out into the open."

Willow shook her head. "I can't tell them where I am-I still don't know myself! But Xander needs me, Spike. If our positions were reversed, Xander would come, he'd come and see me, no matter what it cost him. I have to see him, Spike, if he needs me I can't abandon him."

"Like he abandoned you?" Came the cold and hard reply.

Wincing Willow looked away. "Maybe he did. I don't know anymore. Things were so confusing for me then. But the fact is that I'm better now, I'm grounded, and I have you. I have everything that I need, but I won't abandon my best friend. I won't leave him like that, I can't, I care about him too much. And, I don't think-I know that if Xander knew how bad I'd gotten, he wouldn't ever have let me go that long, he would have done something."

"Willow-"

"I mean it, Spike, I won't leave him like that!" She was yelling now, and the silence told her that her father had heard the shout and was now straining to hear what she was saying. For his part Spike was outwardly calm. Drawing in a deep breath, Willow tried to calm herself. "You might not understand the way I'm explaining it, so think of it like this, if it were Drusilla, wouldn't you go after her to make sure she was alright? Wouldn't you do everything in your power to make her as comfortable as you could? If he's that.upset because of me, because he's worried about me, and all I have to do is talk to him, then I have to, I have to do that for him. Please, Spike, please try to understand, to trust me."

"It's not that I don't trust you, and it's not that I don't understand. I know what you're trying to do because I've done it myself before and it almost always backfires, just like this conversation with your parents is backfiring. But if it'll make you happy, you can arrange through your parents to contact Xander."

Overcome, Willow squealed and wrapped her arms around Spike. "Thank you, thank you so much!"

But Spike shook his head. "Don't thank me, Luv. I think this is a rotten idea."

She smiled before she kissed him. "I know, that's why I'm thanking you."

Grabbing the phone, she pressed it to her ear and began her demands. "Papa, I have to talk to Xander, but I can't tell you where I am, or give you any contact information." Her father tried to protest, but she just continued on right over the top of him until he fell silent. "What I am going to do is make arrangements with you to call back. But you have to make sure Xander is there-just Xander, no one else, none of my other friends. They're not my friends anymore, Papa, only Xander maters to me anymore.

"Willow, hunny, can't you just give me a phone number to call you back at, just something so that I know I wasn't dreaming and that I really am talking to my little girl. I don't think you realize how hard this was for your mother and I. We've given up all our speaking engagements, your mother lost her book deal and we've done nothing but sit by the phone and tell people that you're not dead. Willow, we need to be able to talk to you, to tell you that we love you and that we want you to come home. Please, Willow, don't deny us that. Just give us a phone number, we won't even call if you don't want us too, but please, just.just let us have a number from you so we know that our little girl is safe."

The tears were in her eyes again, and even when she fought them, reminding herself of all the horrible things they'd put her through as a little girl, she couldn't help remember that they were her parents, couldn't stop remembering that she loved them.

"Just a second, Papa."

Turning her head, Willow looked up at Spike. "Is there a number that I could give them. They promised not to call, but just something that they can have in case.well, in case of an emergency I guess." She shrugged, cocking her head to the side to show she didn't even know for sure what she meant, and Spike knew she didn't know if she really wanted them to have the number or just felt trapped.

Then a brilliant idea came to him. He smiled before nodding his head. "Luv, just tell your father that he can leave a message with the man that picks up at the other end of this number," and he gave her Angel's cell phone number. If Angel had been telling the truth and really wanted to patch things up with him, then he could start by being his secretary; they'd talk about promotions in a century or two.

Nodding, Willow relayed the phone number to her father and then tried to end the conversation. "Papa, I have to go now. I want you to know that I love you very much, and that I'll call you back in one week, same time. You'll make sure that Xander's there, won't you?"

"Willow, mamma and I promise that we'll be here and I'll do my best to get Xander to come. I'm going to tell him that I talked to you, and I'm going to tell the police that you've been in contact with us, but I need to talk to William first. Put him on, Willow, I want to talk to this boy that's managed to steal my daughter from me." His voice was warm but filled with steel and Willow was instantly nervous.

"Papa, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Willow, I don't want to do this, but he's taken you a way for two months, and you mamma told me that he threatened to kill you. Now, I don't know what's going on, but I have to talk to him, if you don't let me, I'll tell the police that you were kidnapped and are being held against your will--"

"That's not true!" At her outburst, Spike's hand came up to touch the back of her neck, his fingers massaging gently while his other hand reached out for the phone.

"It's alright, Willow. Let me talk to him."

"But--"

But Spike just shook his head. "Hand it over, Red. I'll talk to your father and straighten things out." Reluctantly she handed over the phone, but was surprised when he gently pushed her off his lap. "Do me a favor, wait for me in the library. I'll be right there." When she tried to protest, tried to explain that she needed to hear this, he just shook his head. "I'll take care of this, Willow. Just be a good girl and wait for me. We'll go on a picnic when I'm done. In fact, why don't you gather the things together. I'll meet you in the kitchen to help you put together dinner." Leaning up, Spike gave her a quick kiss and a tap on the bottom before escorting her out the door of the study.

When he got back to the phone, he lifted the receiver and made his immediate demands. "'Ello, Mr. Rosenburg, I should start by thanking you for asking to speak with me, Willow wouldn't have wanted me to talk to you."

"Now you listen to me you--"

"Actually, I have quite a bit to say to you, but not right now. Put you wife on the phone. She and I have a lot to talk about, starting with drugging a little girl, then killing her kitten and making her feel afraid her whole life. I'll talk to you about being a pussy whipped, child neglecting bastard when I'm finished with her. Then we can talk about legal actions against the both of you concerning Willow's upbringing that could put a damper on both of your future speaking engagements and book deals."

On the other end of the phone was only silence.

Twenty minutes later Spike emerged from the study to find Willow sitting against the wall across from the door.

"What did you say to them?" She sounded small and a little afraid, but behind the fear was a strength to know what had been discussed, and she wasn't taking "nothing important" as an answer.

"I basically accused them of child abuse and neglect, and told them if they called the police and suggested kidnapping charges it would make you sad and I'd take them to court over the whole thing, dragging their names through the mud. Your mother immediately relented, but your father was willing to do anything to get you back, so I then told him that you and I were married--nice call by the way--and that as your husband I had a lot more legal rights over you than they did at this point, but that more importantly you were happy with me. Your father didn't disagree, but he told me, that if I didn't let you call him at the prearranged time, he wouldn't hesitate to track me down and kill me. Even if he is a sissy bastard, he at least cares about you--a few decades late, but better late than never."

With eyes a mixture of sadness and relief, Willow nodded before standing and walking towards him. Rising onto her toes, her hands wrapped behind his neck to pull him down into a warm kiss. She was a collection of a thousand emotions, ones she couldn't yet categorize. He knew how bad it was when she took him by the hand and pulled him towards the stairs leading to the third floor.

He stopped her at the bottom of the staircase. "Luv, the picnic?"

But she just shook her head. "No picnic, I'm not hungry. Just take me upstairs. I need you to hold me for a while, maybe the rest of the night, I'm not sure yet."

Smiling a soft smile, Spike nodded before placing his hand at the small of her back and guiding her up the stairs.

Once in their room, he propelled her towards the closet before removing her clothing and carrying her to the bed. Their lovemaking was soft and slow, filled with promises of togetherness and the eternity.

That night, Spike held her tightly, listening to her silent tears and the muffled murmur of her heart.

chapter 14

chapter 16

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