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snoggedI'm very, very excited to be sharing the newest chapter with my flist. Hope you enjoy it!
Title: Change the Addiction (4/9)
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t.
Pairing: Willow/Spike
Word Count: 1806
Rating/Warnings: will eventually be FRAO/NC-17. This part is FRT-13/PG-13.
Setting: An alternate route from Season 6 - "Wrecked"
Summary: The best way to get over an addiction is to change it...
Beta:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
spikesredqueen andvelvetwhip. Thank you both so much for putting up with me!
A/N: Well over a year ago, I started writing the Addiction series based off a drabble I did for btvsats_love. I never got anywhere with it and so I wanted to try a rewrite to see if I could take myself deeper.
Previous Chapters
“You should have seen their lair. It was like a Discovery Channel special on a nerd’s natural habitat. There were Star Wars collectibles, Vulcan babes from Star Trek, and nifty magical artifacts. They even had a conjurer’s harp and Goddess, if it wasn’t the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen.”
Willow perches on the edge of the easy chair, recalling the story of her mission with Buffy the night before. The mission that came after that crazy agreement she made with Spike. The agreement that’s all about about letting him change her addiction. The agreement that has been buzzing around her brain like a hive of angry bees ever since she made it.
Yes…yes…yes.
Her fingers nervously pick at the hem of her skirt as Xander and Anya join in on her tangent, and she’s grateful to have them distract her because it’s way easier to think about super-geeks than it is to think about the fact that she made a deal with a demon. Even if Anya’s persistent spoutings about the American work ethic and super-villains avoiding responsibility by going the easy route of lying, cheating, and stealing to get their way isn’t exactly high on her list of conversations to have at 8:45 in the morning.
When Buffy walks down the stairs in her red and white striped uniform complete with chicken hat, lips twisting into a miserable curl, Willow can’t help but feel a little pity for her best friend. Willow’s parents have been footing the bill ever since they realized money was all they could offer their daughter as love and affection came in short supply for Ira and Sheila Rosenberg, but she’s read enough books and seen enough documentaries to know that the fast food industry sucks and she’s willing to wager that coming home with a fine layer of grease on her skin will be way grosser to the Slayer than the fine layers of blood, dust, and grime she picks up fighting demons all night.
Plus, thinking about Buffy going to work is just one more way she can avoid thinking about Spike and his deals and his smirk and his eyes and his fingers on her shoulder…Focus, Willow. You are all about the ladies. All about being pink and proud. Don’t go getting your membership revoked…
“I’ll see you later, guys,” Buffy says mournfully, closing the front door behind her as she heads off to the unforgiving world of 9 to 5. The second the door closes, Anya starts talking and suddenly Willow finds her world going from bad to worse with a simple change of topic.
“So, I can expect you to not be doing any instant whooshing for my Wedding day?” Anya asks. “Xander says you’re totally off the magic train so I’m guessing that means you’ve joined some sort of twelve step program to get over yourself?”
“Anya, I’m pretty sure they don’t have Spellcasters Anonymous,” Xander replies, before glancing over at Willow. “I mean, it would be totally cool if they did because then you know, you’d have all kinds of crazy people to talk to about your problems…and stuff. I mean, not that you’re crazy...or anything.”
Willow noticeably flinches as Xander’s foot takes up a permanent residence inside his mouth. It hurts to hear her best friend since childhood call her crazy and problem-ridden. She’s certain that he probably means well. Or at least, means well on a level far superior to his demon fiancée, but it’s that kind of attitude that makes her realize exactly why she said yes to Spike.
Because Spike could make her better, could help her get through these problems, and she wouldn’t have to face down the daggers in her friend’s eyes, the daggers ready to stab and slice at her if she fell down the wrong rabbit hole.
Rank, arrogant amateur…
They don’t all say it the same way but they all carry the same message with them. They think she’s dangerous. A danger to herself, a danger to others. They know that Tara left her because she was using magic too much. They know Giles dances on the edge of trust with her and since he’s the big papa in the family, her friends are bound to kow-tow to his wishes.
“Actually, Xander, there is such a thing as Spellcasters Anonymous. I’ve already earned my special five-day pin and my sponsor says I’m well on my way to being a productive member of society.” She forces a grin and tries to hide the nervous tics that might give away her white lie.
Xander smiles broadly and pats her on the shoulder in a way that reminds her of how you’d pat a puppy for good behavior. “That’s awesome news, Will. I’m glad you’re working on this. And you know, I’m sure when Tara hears that you’re getting better, she’ll come rushing back to you.”
Willow flinches again at the mention of Tara’s name. That’s twice now in the last twenty-four hours that one of her friends has said that name and it stings. They don’t realize that she can never go back to Tara, can never taint that soul of light with her darkness. Tara doesn’t want an addict for a girlfriend and she’s made that perfectly clear.
But in an act of good faith, she pushes a smile through right as Anya’s bottom lip pushes forward into a pout, clearly hating the conversation she’s hearing. “So, you’re telling me that my wedding day is going to have to suffer because you’re not using your magic finger anymore?”
Xander frowns, “Anya, we need to support Willow. That’s what friends do.”
Anya crosses her arms over her chest and shoots Willow a tiny glare. “Fine. I’ll support her. Which I was going to do anyway because I’m still letting her be a bridesmaid because that’s what friends do.”
***
Spike pushes through the front door of the Doublemeat Palace and immediately saunters up to the counter, feeling a smug sense of superiority knowing he’s got one-up on the Slayer tonight.
Yes…yes…yes.
It’s not a word he’s used to hearing, at least not coming from a mouth attached to a woman who still has all her clothes on. But Willow said it to him. Willow said it to him in a way that was bloody genuine and painfully honest. Willow said it to him in a way that made him believe she wanted to turn herself over to his talents and see where the road would take them.
But Buffy hasn’t given him that time of day once. Instead, she’s just given him grumpy glares and biting words even when she lets him inside, even when she’s screaming out in pleasure as they ride each other into a numbing oblivion.
As she stumbles up to the register, the hostility she has for him is palpable, and if he wasn’t dead already, it would chill him to the bone.
“What do you want, Spike?” Buffy grits her teeth and tenses her muscles. She’s still a Slayer under all that standard-issue uniform and all he can do in response is cock his hip to the side and arch his eyebrow.
“Got a tip from Niblet that you were singing to the tune of the Doublemeat Medley. Figured I’d come in and see for myself,” Spike replies, hooking his fingers into his pant loops.
“You came, you saw, you leave now,” Buffy retorts. “I don’t wanna play your games tonight.”
Spike shifts his weight, letting a smirk curl the corners of his lips. He knows that if he presses her hard enough, she’ll play any game that comes to mind. He knows how to get her to crave him, knows how to get her to beg for a hit. But that’s not why he’s here tonight.
Tonight, he’s the one that gets to just say no. “Don’t got any games for you to play. Just came in to tell you that you won’t be getting my services for awhile. Hope you’re not disappointed.”
Buffy’s eyes widen and she snorts, nostrils flaring as her lips vibrate together. “Seriously? You think I’m disappointed because you suddenly have new ass to follow? Believe me when I say, I’m relieved.”
It stings to hear her say it, to feel her bite through his flesh with the razor sharp teeth of her words. He’s been in love with her for years; put a lot of effort into his obsession with her. But if Willow can turn herself over to him in the name of a new addiction, then he can turn himself over to Willow. No one ever said that he couldn’t make the change too.
“Well, good.” Spike hisses back. “Enjoy your bloody life, then. Hope the grease comes out of your pores.”
Without another word, he turns on his heel and storms out the door, letting it slam violently against its frame. He doesn’t even look back to see the expression on Buffy’s face but he sure as hell hopes that it’s one of horror.
Only one demon bothers to take him on as he heads for home and it’s a skinny, blue-skinned thing with an attitude and a posture that makes him act far bigger than he is.
“Gonna squash you, vampire. Gonna grind you into paste and sprinkle you onto my supper.”
Spike snorts, completely unimpressed with this little shit. He pulls out a cigarette and sets it aflame, inhaling deeply before blowing out a ring of smoke. “That right, big shot? I’d like to see you try.”
When the demon comes at him full-speed, Spike chuckles, arm shooting forward to encircle the tiny creature’s neck and snapping it like a twig without a second thought. The demon's body falls to the sidewalk and vanishes without so much as a glob of goo for the passers by to see. Normally, he’d be eager for a fight after getting verbally bitch-slapped by the Slayer but tonight, he’s just interested in the bottle of Jack waiting for him back home and the re-runs of Passions on the Soap Network.
What he finds, however, is Willow sitting in his chair and shaking like a leaf in a summer storm. Her arms are around her knees and her bottom lips is trembling something fierce.
“You all right, Red?”
Willow’s fingers pick at the hole in the cushion. “Amy…Amy did something to me tonight. And…I can’t…control it. I can’t…fight this…thing…that she put inside me. And I…need you…to fix me. Need you to change this…because I…”
It’s all he needs to hear and before she can even blink, his hands are on her, cupping her chin and drawing her face up to his. His lips crash into hers and he can taste the magic on her tongue. Can taste the darkness she didn’t put there. And tonight, he’s gonna swallow it whole.
Chapter 5
Title: Change the Addiction (4/9)
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t.
Pairing: Willow/Spike
Word Count: 1806
Rating/Warnings: will eventually be FRAO/NC-17. This part is FRT-13/PG-13.
Setting: An alternate route from Season 6 - "Wrecked"
Summary: The best way to get over an addiction is to change it...
Beta:
spikesredqueen andvelvetwhip. Thank you both so much for putting up with me!A/N: Well over a year ago, I started writing the Addiction series based off a drabble I did for btvsats_love. I never got anywhere with it and so I wanted to try a rewrite to see if I could take myself deeper.
Previous Chapters
“You should have seen their lair. It was like a Discovery Channel special on a nerd’s natural habitat. There were Star Wars collectibles, Vulcan babes from Star Trek, and nifty magical artifacts. They even had a conjurer’s harp and Goddess, if it wasn’t the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen.”
Willow perches on the edge of the easy chair, recalling the story of her mission with Buffy the night before. The mission that came after that crazy agreement she made with Spike. The agreement that’s all about about letting him change her addiction. The agreement that has been buzzing around her brain like a hive of angry bees ever since she made it.
Yes…yes…yes.
Her fingers nervously pick at the hem of her skirt as Xander and Anya join in on her tangent, and she’s grateful to have them distract her because it’s way easier to think about super-geeks than it is to think about the fact that she made a deal with a demon. Even if Anya’s persistent spoutings about the American work ethic and super-villains avoiding responsibility by going the easy route of lying, cheating, and stealing to get their way isn’t exactly high on her list of conversations to have at 8:45 in the morning.
When Buffy walks down the stairs in her red and white striped uniform complete with chicken hat, lips twisting into a miserable curl, Willow can’t help but feel a little pity for her best friend. Willow’s parents have been footing the bill ever since they realized money was all they could offer their daughter as love and affection came in short supply for Ira and Sheila Rosenberg, but she’s read enough books and seen enough documentaries to know that the fast food industry sucks and she’s willing to wager that coming home with a fine layer of grease on her skin will be way grosser to the Slayer than the fine layers of blood, dust, and grime she picks up fighting demons all night.
Plus, thinking about Buffy going to work is just one more way she can avoid thinking about Spike and his deals and his smirk and his eyes and his fingers on her shoulder…Focus, Willow. You are all about the ladies. All about being pink and proud. Don’t go getting your membership revoked…
“I’ll see you later, guys,” Buffy says mournfully, closing the front door behind her as she heads off to the unforgiving world of 9 to 5. The second the door closes, Anya starts talking and suddenly Willow finds her world going from bad to worse with a simple change of topic.
“So, I can expect you to not be doing any instant whooshing for my Wedding day?” Anya asks. “Xander says you’re totally off the magic train so I’m guessing that means you’ve joined some sort of twelve step program to get over yourself?”
“Anya, I’m pretty sure they don’t have Spellcasters Anonymous,” Xander replies, before glancing over at Willow. “I mean, it would be totally cool if they did because then you know, you’d have all kinds of crazy people to talk to about your problems…and stuff. I mean, not that you’re crazy...or anything.”
Willow noticeably flinches as Xander’s foot takes up a permanent residence inside his mouth. It hurts to hear her best friend since childhood call her crazy and problem-ridden. She’s certain that he probably means well. Or at least, means well on a level far superior to his demon fiancée, but it’s that kind of attitude that makes her realize exactly why she said yes to Spike.
Because Spike could make her better, could help her get through these problems, and she wouldn’t have to face down the daggers in her friend’s eyes, the daggers ready to stab and slice at her if she fell down the wrong rabbit hole.
Rank, arrogant amateur…
They don’t all say it the same way but they all carry the same message with them. They think she’s dangerous. A danger to herself, a danger to others. They know that Tara left her because she was using magic too much. They know Giles dances on the edge of trust with her and since he’s the big papa in the family, her friends are bound to kow-tow to his wishes.
“Actually, Xander, there is such a thing as Spellcasters Anonymous. I’ve already earned my special five-day pin and my sponsor says I’m well on my way to being a productive member of society.” She forces a grin and tries to hide the nervous tics that might give away her white lie.
Xander smiles broadly and pats her on the shoulder in a way that reminds her of how you’d pat a puppy for good behavior. “That’s awesome news, Will. I’m glad you’re working on this. And you know, I’m sure when Tara hears that you’re getting better, she’ll come rushing back to you.”
Willow flinches again at the mention of Tara’s name. That’s twice now in the last twenty-four hours that one of her friends has said that name and it stings. They don’t realize that she can never go back to Tara, can never taint that soul of light with her darkness. Tara doesn’t want an addict for a girlfriend and she’s made that perfectly clear.
But in an act of good faith, she pushes a smile through right as Anya’s bottom lip pushes forward into a pout, clearly hating the conversation she’s hearing. “So, you’re telling me that my wedding day is going to have to suffer because you’re not using your magic finger anymore?”
Xander frowns, “Anya, we need to support Willow. That’s what friends do.”
Anya crosses her arms over her chest and shoots Willow a tiny glare. “Fine. I’ll support her. Which I was going to do anyway because I’m still letting her be a bridesmaid because that’s what friends do.”
***
Spike pushes through the front door of the Doublemeat Palace and immediately saunters up to the counter, feeling a smug sense of superiority knowing he’s got one-up on the Slayer tonight.
Yes…yes…yes.
It’s not a word he’s used to hearing, at least not coming from a mouth attached to a woman who still has all her clothes on. But Willow said it to him. Willow said it to him in a way that was bloody genuine and painfully honest. Willow said it to him in a way that made him believe she wanted to turn herself over to his talents and see where the road would take them.
But Buffy hasn’t given him that time of day once. Instead, she’s just given him grumpy glares and biting words even when she lets him inside, even when she’s screaming out in pleasure as they ride each other into a numbing oblivion.
As she stumbles up to the register, the hostility she has for him is palpable, and if he wasn’t dead already, it would chill him to the bone.
“What do you want, Spike?” Buffy grits her teeth and tenses her muscles. She’s still a Slayer under all that standard-issue uniform and all he can do in response is cock his hip to the side and arch his eyebrow.
“Got a tip from Niblet that you were singing to the tune of the Doublemeat Medley. Figured I’d come in and see for myself,” Spike replies, hooking his fingers into his pant loops.
“You came, you saw, you leave now,” Buffy retorts. “I don’t wanna play your games tonight.”
Spike shifts his weight, letting a smirk curl the corners of his lips. He knows that if he presses her hard enough, she’ll play any game that comes to mind. He knows how to get her to crave him, knows how to get her to beg for a hit. But that’s not why he’s here tonight.
Tonight, he’s the one that gets to just say no. “Don’t got any games for you to play. Just came in to tell you that you won’t be getting my services for awhile. Hope you’re not disappointed.”
Buffy’s eyes widen and she snorts, nostrils flaring as her lips vibrate together. “Seriously? You think I’m disappointed because you suddenly have new ass to follow? Believe me when I say, I’m relieved.”
It stings to hear her say it, to feel her bite through his flesh with the razor sharp teeth of her words. He’s been in love with her for years; put a lot of effort into his obsession with her. But if Willow can turn herself over to him in the name of a new addiction, then he can turn himself over to Willow. No one ever said that he couldn’t make the change too.
“Well, good.” Spike hisses back. “Enjoy your bloody life, then. Hope the grease comes out of your pores.”
Without another word, he turns on his heel and storms out the door, letting it slam violently against its frame. He doesn’t even look back to see the expression on Buffy’s face but he sure as hell hopes that it’s one of horror.
Only one demon bothers to take him on as he heads for home and it’s a skinny, blue-skinned thing with an attitude and a posture that makes him act far bigger than he is.
“Gonna squash you, vampire. Gonna grind you into paste and sprinkle you onto my supper.”
Spike snorts, completely unimpressed with this little shit. He pulls out a cigarette and sets it aflame, inhaling deeply before blowing out a ring of smoke. “That right, big shot? I’d like to see you try.”
When the demon comes at him full-speed, Spike chuckles, arm shooting forward to encircle the tiny creature’s neck and snapping it like a twig without a second thought. The demon's body falls to the sidewalk and vanishes without so much as a glob of goo for the passers by to see. Normally, he’d be eager for a fight after getting verbally bitch-slapped by the Slayer but tonight, he’s just interested in the bottle of Jack waiting for him back home and the re-runs of Passions on the Soap Network.
What he finds, however, is Willow sitting in his chair and shaking like a leaf in a summer storm. Her arms are around her knees and her bottom lips is trembling something fierce.
“You all right, Red?”
Willow’s fingers pick at the hole in the cushion. “Amy…Amy did something to me tonight. And…I can’t…control it. I can’t…fight this…thing…that she put inside me. And I…need you…to fix me. Need you to change this…because I…”
It’s all he needs to hear and before she can even blink, his hands are on her, cupping her chin and drawing her face up to his. His lips crash into hers and he can taste the magic on her tongue. Can taste the darkness she didn’t put there. And tonight, he’s gonna swallow it whole.
Chapter 5
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on 2013-05-28 11:23 pm (UTC)