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snoggedHere it is, ladies and gents...the penultimate chapter of my Willow/Spike tale. I hope you enjoy it -- even if there's no smut this time.
Title: Change the Addiction (8/9)
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t.
Pairing: Willow/Spike
Word Count: 1944
Overall Rating/Warnings: FRAO/NC-17 for sexual situations and language (This chapter 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 and velvetwhip. 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![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
btvsats_love that explored what Season 6 might be like if Spike had been part of Willow's magic intervention. It never got where I wanted it to, and this is my shot to look at it again with fresher eyes. I hope you like the journey!
Previous Chapters
Fromblondebitz
Fromangelstoy
“It’s hideous,” Willow whimpers, cringing at the sight of herself in the full-length mirror. The large, green flower stares back at her like a Venus fly trap, looking eager to swallow her whole. “What was Anya thinking?”
Beside her, Buffy’s facial expression is an exact replica of Willow’s. With one added eye twinkle, because she finally gets to hear Willow say something that resembles caring about how she looks. It’s not that Willow’s sense of style has ever bothered her before, but she’s been longing for the day when Willow would let her go through her closet and get rid of all the frumpy sweaters and colorful tights. And her admission about the bridesmaid’s dress makes Buffy believe that day has finally come.
“I think it’s in the bride’s job description,” Buffy says, performing an experimental spin just to see how the frilly skirt flows. But instead of looking pretty, it almost makes her trip. “To make her friends look like radioactive balls of ugly.” She pauses, taking a second to try out a high kick and hearing a soft rip as several stitches come undone. “And to make the Slayer’s job a lot harder in case someone needs to explode into dust. I need to go stick a pin in this monster so I’ll see you later, okay?”
Willow nods, watching her friend disappear through the door heading off to Goddess knows where in search of a safety pin. Then she turns back to the mirror, running her fingers through her hair. It feels weird to be here, to be standing here decked out in Anya’s idea of formal wear, knowing that at any second she’ll have to walk upstairs and stand beside Xander as he takes the big step forward into married-dom. Deep down, she feels a genuine happiness that he’s found someone to make his life complete. But there’s also the twinge which accompanies the knowledge that when he looks at her today, he’s also going to be seeing the girl who has sex with Spike.
Spike.
The name triggers more emotions for her now than it ever has. He’s more than just a vampire, more than a killer, more than a thief, more than a romantic, more than a friend. And after the last time she was with him, he’s become more than a changing addiction. He’s become someone worthy of taking more than just her body. He’s become someone she wouldn’t mind giving her heart to.
“Looking sharp, Red.”
She looks into the mirror to catch Spike’s reflection, before realizing that looking accomplishes nothing seeing as how vampires don’t have reflections to begin with. So instead, she smiles and pivots, breath hitching at the sight of him in the doorway.
“Sharp edges would make this dress far worse,” Willow replies, silently hoping that her joke is enough to draw him further into the room, to bring him closer to her. She has to admit that his plan has been working like a charm. She hasn’t been dancing on the razor edge of magic cravings lately. She hasn’t been feeling the dark tendrils squeezing the life out of her heart and soul. Instead, all she can think about is the way Spike holds her, the way he kisses her, the way he makes her come alive. Who would have thought that one little yes would alter her entire way of thinking in a few short weeks?
“Glinda’s upstairs. Decked out in the same glowing dress as you. Helping out the bride to be, I suspect.”
Or not.
Her lips part, forming a small ‘o’ shape. Countless questions run through her head, the first of which being: ‘why do you need to bring this up right now?’ Which comes out more like, “That’s what bridesmaids do. They don’t call us maids for nothing.” She tries to laugh, but it feels more like choking down a sob. She never expected Spike to bring her up, never expected him to go there, not with everything they’d done so far together.
Spike shifts his weight, lining his body up against the door frame. He didn’t mean to freak her out, didn’t mean to make things more complex, but he figures since she’s been doing so well avoiding the magic lately that she’s bound to want to go back to her girl. Bound to find a new way to change the addiction she developed with him. It isn’t like he’s asked to be her boyfriend even though they were having sex now. It isn’t like he wants to force her into staying with him. He just wants to make her aware of her options.
“Just figured if you wanted to go and talk to her, that I’d let you know where she was. And let you know that she’s looking really good today. Type of girl who knows how to wear a smile proper, yeah?”
Her teeth nervously scrape over her bottom lip, and she locks eyes with him. Clearly, he never got the memo that she doesn’t just have sex with a person if she plans on leaving them the next day. She never bought Parker’s line of bullshit that two people can have some magical moment and just move on with their lives. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to just keep talking to you. Unless you don’t want me here for some reason.”
“Talking works,” Spike says, shrugging his shoulders as Willow closes the distance between them and stands up on tiptoes to kiss him. He tastes like whiskey, and cigar smoke, and a little bit like a J’Thi demon. Not that she’s been going around tasting demons lately, but she knows there's one at the wedding and he seems to be a fan of marking up the cheese platter with his scent. Which means everyone is getting a little taste of J'Thi in their mouth every time they go to sample the Gouda, and that sounds a bit like a health code violation.
“Or you know, not talking works too,” Willow grins, pressing herself tight to his body, Spike takes his cue from her and reaches behind him to grab the door handle, pulling it shut with a soft thump.
“I thought you were all about the private spaces now, pet,” Spike murmurs, feeling the heat between her legs warming his groin and making his cock fill. “And there are a lot more people upstairs to catch you in the act than there were the last time.”
“Are you trying to ruin the mood entirely, mister?” Willow asks, jabbing her finger against his chest. “’Cause you’ve been doing a darn good job at it so far today.”
Spike chuckles, capturing her mouth in a deeply possessive kiss. His tongue slides past her lips, as his fingers skate down her spine, brushing over the clasp of her bra. She shivers under his touch, and rolls her hips, hoping to increase the pressure against her pelvis.
“That better, love?” He asks as their lips separate and she inhales deeply, gulping down large quantities of air.
Willow takes another breath, hands encircling his biceps as she wills her body to kill the fire in her nerves and belly. Maybe, they do need to do a little talking after all. “Did you think I would leave you today? That as soon as you fixed me, we’d be over? You know that’s not how I work right? You know that I don’t just walk away. I didn’t walk away after Xander caught us and I’m not walking away just because Tara’s wearing a smile today.”
“You’re not obligated to stay with me, Red. Not required to sing to the rafters or tell all your friends.”
There’s a knock on the door, and Willow sighs deeply. “You know what, Spike? Xander had a point. Addicts keep secrets, and tell lies, and make excuses. And what we have…it isn’t addiction. It goes way deeper than that.”
Her hand snakes around his waist and turns the knob, letting the door swing open.
“Spike?” Buffy’s question pierces the mood of the room, deflating the warmth as if she were popping a helium balloon. “What the hell are you doing down here?”
Spike cautiously turns around to look at the Slayer as Willow puts on a brave face. She’s already gotten through one confrontation with friends about her actions, and she feels ready to clear the air with the rest of them. Feels ready to use the happiest day of Xander’s life to shed the mask and let people see her for who she really was now.
“He’s with me,” Willow answers, only slightly nervous about Buffy’s coming reaction.
The blonde rapidly shifts her gaze from Willow to Spike and back again, before arching an eyebrow. “Huh?”
Spike narrows his eyes, thinking back to the night in the Doublemeat Palace when he had told her his services were off the market. He can’t help but wonder how fast it’ll take her to make the connection. She always has been a bit slow on the intellectual uptake.
“I mean,” Willow says, a bit slower than the first time. “That he’s with me. As in we’re together.”
The light bulb flickers briefly above Buffy’s head as she slowly starts to work out the implications. “Are we talking together like Xander and Anya-couple together or are we talking together a la Parent Trap: ‘Let’s get together, yeah-yeah-yeah? So we can have twice the fun.’”
Willow brightens, letting a giggle slip out over Buffy’s slightly dated pop culture reference. She doesn’t see the look in her friend’s eyes that’s meant for Spike. The look that screams betrayal. The look that asks what the hell he thinks he’s doing with her best friend. All she sees is the possibility of acceptance, and she hopes that it comes as quickly to Buffy as it did Xander.
Spike, on the other hand, catches the look and snorts in irritation. She has no right to be jealous of him, no right to get a prissy attitude about him choosing Willow over her. Hell, this is exactly what she kept saying she wanted so she should be a fucking ray of sunshine right about now. “Shouldn’t make much of a difference what sort of togetherness it is, should it, Slayer? ‘Portant thing is you’re hearing about it because Willow wanted you to know that she’s not gonna let her feelings fester in a dark, damp cave somewhere off the coast of Guadalajara.”
Buffy catches the subtle jibe directed at her and her nostrils flare, eyes sparkling with something dangerous, something brutal. Any other day, she’d probably have him flat on his back; make him take every one of her flying fists. But Willow’s standing right there, and there are secrets that just don’t need to come out in the open.
“I’m glad you told me,” Buffy replies, forcing her lips to spread into a perky smile and throwing her arms around Willow in a superficial hug. “Does this mean we get to reincorporate boy talk into our girl’s night?”
As Buffy laughs into her ear, Willow purses her lips. She’s not stupid. She knows that something went down between Buffy and Spike that they just aren’t talking about. It’s not like Spike’s crush on Buffy is new news or anything. But what she does know is that Spike’s in her corner now and none of that history matters even if there’s gonna be some leftover tension in their triangle for awhile.
“How ‘bout we all go see Xander and Anya get their happy ending?” Willow chirps, disentangling herself from Buffy’s embrace and slipping her hand into Spike’s.
And with a brief nod of compliance from Spike and Buffy, that’s exactly what they do.
Chapter 9
Title: Change the Addiction (8/9)
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t.
Pairing: Willow/Spike
Word Count: 1944
Overall Rating/Warnings: FRAO/NC-17 for sexual situations and language (This chapter 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 and velvetwhip. 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 that explored what Season 6 might be like if Spike had been part of Willow's magic intervention. It never got where I wanted it to, and this is my shot to look at it again with fresher eyes. I hope you like the journey!Previous Chapters
From
blondebitzFrom
angelstoy“It’s hideous,” Willow whimpers, cringing at the sight of herself in the full-length mirror. The large, green flower stares back at her like a Venus fly trap, looking eager to swallow her whole. “What was Anya thinking?”
Beside her, Buffy’s facial expression is an exact replica of Willow’s. With one added eye twinkle, because she finally gets to hear Willow say something that resembles caring about how she looks. It’s not that Willow’s sense of style has ever bothered her before, but she’s been longing for the day when Willow would let her go through her closet and get rid of all the frumpy sweaters and colorful tights. And her admission about the bridesmaid’s dress makes Buffy believe that day has finally come.
“I think it’s in the bride’s job description,” Buffy says, performing an experimental spin just to see how the frilly skirt flows. But instead of looking pretty, it almost makes her trip. “To make her friends look like radioactive balls of ugly.” She pauses, taking a second to try out a high kick and hearing a soft rip as several stitches come undone. “And to make the Slayer’s job a lot harder in case someone needs to explode into dust. I need to go stick a pin in this monster so I’ll see you later, okay?”
Willow nods, watching her friend disappear through the door heading off to Goddess knows where in search of a safety pin. Then she turns back to the mirror, running her fingers through her hair. It feels weird to be here, to be standing here decked out in Anya’s idea of formal wear, knowing that at any second she’ll have to walk upstairs and stand beside Xander as he takes the big step forward into married-dom. Deep down, she feels a genuine happiness that he’s found someone to make his life complete. But there’s also the twinge which accompanies the knowledge that when he looks at her today, he’s also going to be seeing the girl who has sex with Spike.
Spike.
The name triggers more emotions for her now than it ever has. He’s more than just a vampire, more than a killer, more than a thief, more than a romantic, more than a friend. And after the last time she was with him, he’s become more than a changing addiction. He’s become someone worthy of taking more than just her body. He’s become someone she wouldn’t mind giving her heart to.
“Looking sharp, Red.”
She looks into the mirror to catch Spike’s reflection, before realizing that looking accomplishes nothing seeing as how vampires don’t have reflections to begin with. So instead, she smiles and pivots, breath hitching at the sight of him in the doorway.
“Sharp edges would make this dress far worse,” Willow replies, silently hoping that her joke is enough to draw him further into the room, to bring him closer to her. She has to admit that his plan has been working like a charm. She hasn’t been dancing on the razor edge of magic cravings lately. She hasn’t been feeling the dark tendrils squeezing the life out of her heart and soul. Instead, all she can think about is the way Spike holds her, the way he kisses her, the way he makes her come alive. Who would have thought that one little yes would alter her entire way of thinking in a few short weeks?
“Glinda’s upstairs. Decked out in the same glowing dress as you. Helping out the bride to be, I suspect.”
Or not.
Her lips part, forming a small ‘o’ shape. Countless questions run through her head, the first of which being: ‘why do you need to bring this up right now?’ Which comes out more like, “That’s what bridesmaids do. They don’t call us maids for nothing.” She tries to laugh, but it feels more like choking down a sob. She never expected Spike to bring her up, never expected him to go there, not with everything they’d done so far together.
Spike shifts his weight, lining his body up against the door frame. He didn’t mean to freak her out, didn’t mean to make things more complex, but he figures since she’s been doing so well avoiding the magic lately that she’s bound to want to go back to her girl. Bound to find a new way to change the addiction she developed with him. It isn’t like he’s asked to be her boyfriend even though they were having sex now. It isn’t like he wants to force her into staying with him. He just wants to make her aware of her options.
“Just figured if you wanted to go and talk to her, that I’d let you know where she was. And let you know that she’s looking really good today. Type of girl who knows how to wear a smile proper, yeah?”
Her teeth nervously scrape over her bottom lip, and she locks eyes with him. Clearly, he never got the memo that she doesn’t just have sex with a person if she plans on leaving them the next day. She never bought Parker’s line of bullshit that two people can have some magical moment and just move on with their lives. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to just keep talking to you. Unless you don’t want me here for some reason.”
“Talking works,” Spike says, shrugging his shoulders as Willow closes the distance between them and stands up on tiptoes to kiss him. He tastes like whiskey, and cigar smoke, and a little bit like a J’Thi demon. Not that she’s been going around tasting demons lately, but she knows there's one at the wedding and he seems to be a fan of marking up the cheese platter with his scent. Which means everyone is getting a little taste of J'Thi in their mouth every time they go to sample the Gouda, and that sounds a bit like a health code violation.
“Or you know, not talking works too,” Willow grins, pressing herself tight to his body, Spike takes his cue from her and reaches behind him to grab the door handle, pulling it shut with a soft thump.
“I thought you were all about the private spaces now, pet,” Spike murmurs, feeling the heat between her legs warming his groin and making his cock fill. “And there are a lot more people upstairs to catch you in the act than there were the last time.”
“Are you trying to ruin the mood entirely, mister?” Willow asks, jabbing her finger against his chest. “’Cause you’ve been doing a darn good job at it so far today.”
Spike chuckles, capturing her mouth in a deeply possessive kiss. His tongue slides past her lips, as his fingers skate down her spine, brushing over the clasp of her bra. She shivers under his touch, and rolls her hips, hoping to increase the pressure against her pelvis.
“That better, love?” He asks as their lips separate and she inhales deeply, gulping down large quantities of air.
Willow takes another breath, hands encircling his biceps as she wills her body to kill the fire in her nerves and belly. Maybe, they do need to do a little talking after all. “Did you think I would leave you today? That as soon as you fixed me, we’d be over? You know that’s not how I work right? You know that I don’t just walk away. I didn’t walk away after Xander caught us and I’m not walking away just because Tara’s wearing a smile today.”
“You’re not obligated to stay with me, Red. Not required to sing to the rafters or tell all your friends.”
There’s a knock on the door, and Willow sighs deeply. “You know what, Spike? Xander had a point. Addicts keep secrets, and tell lies, and make excuses. And what we have…it isn’t addiction. It goes way deeper than that.”
Her hand snakes around his waist and turns the knob, letting the door swing open.
“Spike?” Buffy’s question pierces the mood of the room, deflating the warmth as if she were popping a helium balloon. “What the hell are you doing down here?”
Spike cautiously turns around to look at the Slayer as Willow puts on a brave face. She’s already gotten through one confrontation with friends about her actions, and she feels ready to clear the air with the rest of them. Feels ready to use the happiest day of Xander’s life to shed the mask and let people see her for who she really was now.
“He’s with me,” Willow answers, only slightly nervous about Buffy’s coming reaction.
The blonde rapidly shifts her gaze from Willow to Spike and back again, before arching an eyebrow. “Huh?”
Spike narrows his eyes, thinking back to the night in the Doublemeat Palace when he had told her his services were off the market. He can’t help but wonder how fast it’ll take her to make the connection. She always has been a bit slow on the intellectual uptake.
“I mean,” Willow says, a bit slower than the first time. “That he’s with me. As in we’re together.”
The light bulb flickers briefly above Buffy’s head as she slowly starts to work out the implications. “Are we talking together like Xander and Anya-couple together or are we talking together a la Parent Trap: ‘Let’s get together, yeah-yeah-yeah? So we can have twice the fun.’”
Willow brightens, letting a giggle slip out over Buffy’s slightly dated pop culture reference. She doesn’t see the look in her friend’s eyes that’s meant for Spike. The look that screams betrayal. The look that asks what the hell he thinks he’s doing with her best friend. All she sees is the possibility of acceptance, and she hopes that it comes as quickly to Buffy as it did Xander.
Spike, on the other hand, catches the look and snorts in irritation. She has no right to be jealous of him, no right to get a prissy attitude about him choosing Willow over her. Hell, this is exactly what she kept saying she wanted so she should be a fucking ray of sunshine right about now. “Shouldn’t make much of a difference what sort of togetherness it is, should it, Slayer? ‘Portant thing is you’re hearing about it because Willow wanted you to know that she’s not gonna let her feelings fester in a dark, damp cave somewhere off the coast of Guadalajara.”
Buffy catches the subtle jibe directed at her and her nostrils flare, eyes sparkling with something dangerous, something brutal. Any other day, she’d probably have him flat on his back; make him take every one of her flying fists. But Willow’s standing right there, and there are secrets that just don’t need to come out in the open.
“I’m glad you told me,” Buffy replies, forcing her lips to spread into a perky smile and throwing her arms around Willow in a superficial hug. “Does this mean we get to reincorporate boy talk into our girl’s night?”
As Buffy laughs into her ear, Willow purses her lips. She’s not stupid. She knows that something went down between Buffy and Spike that they just aren’t talking about. It’s not like Spike’s crush on Buffy is new news or anything. But what she does know is that Spike’s in her corner now and none of that history matters even if there’s gonna be some leftover tension in their triangle for awhile.
“How ‘bout we all go see Xander and Anya get their happy ending?” Willow chirps, disentangling herself from Buffy’s embrace and slipping her hand into Spike’s.
And with a brief nod of compliance from Spike and Buffy, that’s exactly what they do.
Chapter 9
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