Willow walked slowly down the street, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, as if she would come apart if she didn't hold fast to her own body. It was her birthday, not that anyone cared. Not even Xander… or Tara.
The two people she loved most in the world, one as her friend, the other as her everything, and neither of them could even bring themselves to wish her Happy Birthday. She truly wasn't worth caring about at all, Willow realized. She was useless, worthless, loathsome, a junkie…nothing.
She didn't know why she had even left the house. But the pain of withdrawal had gotten to her and she decided to go out in search of Hostess cupcakes, probably the closest thing to birthday cake she could get for herself at this hour. It had been weeks since she had used magick, but the pain was still there. Maybe chocolatey goodness would help. After all, chocolate was chemically the same as love. And since no one would ever love her again, chocolate was undoubtedly the best she could do.
Spike walked out the door of the bar he'd been in and bumped right into the last person he expected to see out on Sunnydale's streets late at night. What the hell did the little witch think she was doing walking around Sunnydale at this hour? Was she trying to get herself killed? He held onto her as he nearly tripped and fell, righting himself. Then he took a good look at her. Even in his condition, he could see the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes and smell the despair and loneliness that poured off of her in waves.
He recalled a discussion at the Magic Box earlier that day. Something Xander had said…oh, bloody Hell. It was Red's birthday! He remembered Xander wanting to go wish Willow a Happy Birthday. But Buffy and the demon chit had told him not to…ordered him not to was more like it. Saying she didn't deserve it and hadn't earned their trust or forgiveness. Well, bugger that. Spike might be shagging Buffy, might even be in love with her, but that didn't mean he couldn't forgive Willow.
Hell, if it weren't for Willow, none of them would have made it through the months when Buffy had been dead. How conveniently everyone forgot all that Willow had done for them. Especially that whiny, puling bitch of a girlfriend Willow had. How easily she had cast Willow aside, even after everything she had done for her when Glory had sucked out her mind and left her a raving loony. Willow had been prepared to take care of her forever. But at the first sign of trouble, Tara turned tail and ran. She never deserved Red anyway, in Spike's opinion. Just like Buffy didn't deserve him. Maybe he wasn't good for much these days, what with the chip in his head and letting himself be the Slayer's sex toy, but he could do something. He could try and make things right for Willow.
Just what she needed, Willow thought. Bumping into someone she knew was the last thing she wanted tonight. Bad enough that she was all alone on her birthday. But now she was really in for it. A lecture and taunting on top of everything else. Maybe she should just ditch her stake and holy water and take the shortcut through the cemetery on her way home. If this wasn't a sign that life wasn't worth living, she didn't know what was.
But then she looked into Spike's eyes and saw something she never expected to see…compassion. Spike felt compassion…for her? And with that, Willow burst into tears as Spike wrapped his arms around her.
"There now, pet, I've got you. It's all right. Spike's here. I've got you." Spike rubbed circles on her back and placed gentle kisses on her neck and cheek. Kisses that gradually turned from comforting to sensual as he continued to hold Willow tight.
Spike's words brought a fresh flood of tears to Willow's eyes. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had even touched her. Let alone held her and soothed her and wanted her. And she was in so much pain. She needed someone so much right now. But what about Spike? Wouldn't she be using him? She couldn't do that. She couldn't use him to escape her pain, no matter how much she wanted to.
"Spike. I can't do this to you. I won't lie. Right now, all I want to do is take you back to my parent's house and let you hold me and take care of me and make love to me. But I can't do that to you. I can't use you to make me feel better. You deserve so much more than that, Spike. You deserve so much more than me."
Right after Willow spoke those words, Spike lost control. He couldn't believe his ears. After all the nights of Buffy telling him he was a thing, a soulless demon, unworthy of love, fit only to be used and cast aside until she needed to use him again, Willow's words broke the dam inside him that had kept the pain at bay. He clutched Willow ever tighter and began to sob into her neck.
"Spike, what's wrong? What did I say? What did I do? I'm sorry!"
"Nothing, pet," Spike choked out. "It's just…there's some things I want to tell you. You didn't hurt me sweetheart. Is it okay if we take that trip to your folks' house? Just to talk?"
"Okay, Spike. Let's do that," Willow said.
Arms around each other, Willow and Spike made their way through the streets of Sunnydale. Willow had a feeling that nothing was ever going to be the same again after tonight. And that was the best birthday present she could ever have asked for.
Part 2
"Come in, Spike," Willow said as she entered her parents' house.
The two stood awkwardly in the living room, neither sure exactly what to say.
"Red, got any hot chocolate, with those little marshmallows?" Spike asked, by way of breaking the ice.
"I'll go see, Spike. I haven't been here in a while," Willow replied, glad that Spike gave her something to do. Now that they were here, she was terrified. What was it Spike wanted to tell her? Why had he been crying? And what was going to happen between them tonight?
Willow went to the kitchen, but found no hot chocolate. She returned to the living room with the bad news.
"I'm sorry, Spike. We don't have any hot chocolate. Is there anything else I can get you?"
"That's fine, pet. Thanks, anyway. I guess I should just get right to the point and tell you what all that was about back there."
Spike was dreading this. Willow would probably despise him after she found out what he and the Slayer had been up to. But he owed her this. Buffy constantly put her down and lorded it over her. Willow deserved to know what a hypocrite her so-called friend was. She needed to know that she deserved better than she was getting. It was the least he could give her for her birthday.
"Willow, pet, when you said what you did--it meant the world to me. It's not something I hear much. Especially not from women. And certainly not from Buffy." Spike braced himself to tell her the rest. But he didn't have to.
"What do you mean not from Buffy? You mean you…and Buffy…but she hates you! She always insults you and tells us you disgust her! She said she'd never let you touch her! And all this time…you…and her… you've been…Get out, Spike. Please. Just leave."
Willow couldn't believe it. Spike and Buffy? Buffy had lied and so had Spike. Was there anyone in her life who had ever cared about her at all? People couldn't trust her, couldn't love her, couldn't even tell her the truth. She had been wrong earlier. Things would never be different, never be better. She walked to the door and opened it, gesturing for Spike to leave.
Spike moved to the door, then closed it.
"Please, pet. Let me explain. Then if you want me to leave, I'll go. Yes, the Slayer and I have been shagging. She came to me, said I made her feel. It's not love, pet, or anything like it. When it's over, she tells me I'm a thing and that I disgust her. Says it'll never happen again. And she means it…`til the next time she needs what I can give her. She wants it rough, brutal, violent always. She's never let me make love to her. And she doesn't want my love. She says I can't love, says I'm just a thing, a soulless demon, good for nothing but the good, hard shag I can give her."
"When you said what you did to me tonight…it meant the world to me, Red. No one has ever said anything like that to me. You made me feel like more than just the Big Bad. You made me feel like a man again. More of a man than I ever felt like before, even when I was human. You made me feel like you cared. I've never had that. Not when I was human, not from Angelus, not from Dru, not from anyone. And I care about you, pet. I think I could love you. I just have to figure out how to love someone who could love me back. Who could look at me and not wish I were Angelus. Please, pet…Willow…give me a chance. Let me stay. Let me love you."
It was her name that did it. That and the tears in Spike's eyes. Willow melted into his arms and kissed him, leading him up the stairs to her old room.
It had been a long time since Willow had been with a man. She hadn't thought she would ever want to be with one again, believing after falling in love with Tara that she was `gay now.' But she wanted Spike. And he was right, she could love him. She certainly wanted to make love to him. To give him what Dru and Buffy never had, sweetness, tenderness, warmth, affection…all the things he was offering her.
Slowly, shyly, she began to undress, worried about how her body would compare to the more toned, perfect physique of Buffy. But Spike sensed her misgivings and put her fears to rest.
"You're beautiful, Willow. Let me see you."
Spike couldn't believe the gift Willow was giving him. The chance to make love to her was more than he had ever hoped for. And she was beautiful. While not as curvaceous as Dru or as fit as Buffy, she nonetheless had a womanly beauty all her own. The soft swell of her pert breasts, the pallor of her skin, her elegant arms and legs…she was perfect. And Spike intended to worship her, to show her what a goddess she was, and to make her see what the others hadn't…that she was special and worthy of all the love there was to give.
Spike disrobed as Willow removed the last of her clothes, relishing the admiration in her gaze as she stared at his naked form. Guess he looked better then that mangy mutt of hers. And he certainly had something the stuttering witch-bitch didn't, that was for sure.
He moved towards her, taking Willow in his arms again and kissing her lingeringly. He explored her mouth deliberately with his tongue, wanting to savor the taste of her, to learn the texture of her completely. Running his hands lightly over her breasts, he felt her nipples harden and gently teased them into erect peaks, aching for his attention. Spike was overwhelmed by the pleasure of being allowed to take his time, to be gentle, to get to know Willow's body, to please her, not just scratch an itch. And he was determined to make this last as long as possible.
Willow could scarcely believe what was happening. Less than an hour ago, she had been ready to commit suicide by walking through the cemetery and now…now she was about to make love with the most beautiful man she had ever seen. But did he really want to be here with her? Or was she merely a consolation prize because Buffy wouldn't love him?
Once again, Spike sensed her fears, and cupped her face in his hands.
"Willow, luv, you and I are the only ones in this room. And I wouldn't want to be here with anyone else. Believe me. I want you, just you. And if Buffy came in right now and told me she loved me, I'd still choose to be with you. But what about you? If Tara were here, would you still want me?"
Who would she choose, Willow thought. If she'd been asked yesterday, she would have said that Tara was all she wanted or ever would want, but now…now she looked into Spike's eyes and saw more than she had ever thought she would find anywhere. She saw acceptance, understanding, need…and love. Love for who she was, not for who someone wanted her to be or demanded that she be, but who she was right now. And she saw someone she could feel exactly the same way about, who she could care for, even love, for everything he was.
"You, Spike. I choose you. And if Tara walked in right now, I'd tell her to leave, because I don't want an audience when we make love."
Spike couldn't help himself. He grabbed Willow around the waist and lifted her up, planting a huge kiss on her cheek.
"Happy Birthday, Willow! Now what was that you were saying about making love?"
The End