Higher Learning

Cordelia looked up when the door to Angel's office opened.

"Hey, Angel. Do you think...," she trailed off as the dark-haired vampire stalked right past her and out of the agency without a word.

She sniffed, offended. "Rude much?"

"Well, this is me," Willow said, glancing at the vampire standing slightly behind her as she tapped her key on her dorm room door.

She never understood how someone could have a face 'like forty miles of bad road' until she looked at him. The other students they'd passed on the walk back from Halas and in her dorm quickened their steps and gave them wide berth. If he didn't look so dangerous, she'd find their actions funny.

"Um, are we going to go back to the hotel now, or do you want to hang here for awhile?" Willow asked, turning around to face him fully, keys still in her hand.

"You're staying here, I'm going back," Spike told her in a hard voice.

"What? But I thought..." Willow looked at him in confusion. "Wasn't the plan for me to go with you?"

Spike stepped forward and, because of the gleam in his eyes, Willow stepped back reflexively. The hard wood of the door against her back did nothing to reassure her. Instead, for the first time since she'd been friends with him, she felt trapped.

She swallowed when he put his hand flat on the door next to her head, and her eyes grew fright-filled when he leaned closer, his face stopping only a few inches away. A dangerous light was in his blue eyes and she clutched at the cross on her key-chain. "S-Spike?"

"If I stay," Spike said, his voice low and rough. "I am going to take you so bloody hard up against this door, you won't be able to walk for a week."

Willow's eyes grew huge at his words.

"If you come with me," he continued in the same low tone. "I won't be able to control myself."

"Oh goddess," she breathed. He leaned forward more and she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he abruptly pushed away from the door and took a step away from her.

"Room 214," Spike said. Voices floated up the hallway and he turned his head in a slow, predatorily manner. His eyes narrowed and Willow could practically feel the demon just under the surface of his control. "And tell that bloody pillock to..."

Spike stopped speaking and stared intently at her. Then he turned and left without another word.

Willow watched him until he went into the stairwell and she slumped against the door. "Oh goddess, oh goddess, oh goddess," she repeated, bringing up her hands to her heated cheeks.

"Hey Will," Tristan said, stopping at the door next to hers. "Where's your 'friend'?"

"He, uh, that is, he, er, left." Willow turned to her door and tried to insert her key, but her hand was shaking too badly. She glanced at the wood and her eyes widened again. Against the door...

"Well, we're getting together in a few minutes for an after dance party," Tristan said. He leaned against one shoulder on his door. "Would you like to join us?"

She turned to her friend and opened her mouth to answer, then snapped is shut again. She didn't think she'd do too well at a party right then, but to be alone, in her room, looking at the door... "Yes!" she all but shouted.

Tristan straightened with a smile on his face, but it slowly disappeared as he looked past her shoulder. "Are you looking for someone, sir?"

"I found her."

Willow gasped when she heard the familiar voice and she turned around quickly. "Angel!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around the dark-haired vampire in an enthusiastic hug. "What are you doing here? This is so great! Two surprises in one night..."

She trailed off when she realized that she'd had three surprises that night. Her eyes involuntarily turned back to her door. The very door Spike wanted to... **Oh goddess.** She quickly looked up at Angel.

"It's good to see you, too, Willow," Angel said. He gave a dismissive glance at Tristan, then looked down into the redhead's upturned face. "We need to talk."

Higher Learning XXVI - Turmoil

Spike stared out the window of the twenty-four hour restaurant, ignoring the strange conversations of the drunk university students going on around him. There was a cup of coffee on the table in front of him, the same cup that had been there for two hours. Next to it was a full ashtray and two packs of cigarettes, one empty, one half-full. A silver Zippo lighter was sitting on top of the half-full pack.

Between the fingers of his left hand was a lit cigarette, the cherry in danger of falling off and ashing on him. Smoke curled up from it, dissipating in the air above him. Some of the students stopped their conversations to marvel at the reflection of the smoke in the window, but not the man who held the cigarette.

Spike brought the cigarette to his mouth and took a pull on it, allowing the smoke to curl in his dead lungs. With a well-practiced gesture, he flicked the bottom of the cigarette and the cherry fell into the ashtray. Exhaling, he returned his gaze to the window, all of his smooth, controlled moments belying the turmoil in his mind.

He had put Willow in danger earlier. Despite his human-like behaviorism and interests, he was still a demon, and when the whelp had given him a challenge for the redhead, his instincts of possessiveness flared. Although he did desire her, he hadn't wanted to take Willow against the door because he was aroused beyond reason. Instead, he wanted to mark her, to claim her, to make his possession known to the boy. Anger and territoriality had been his motivation, not want and need.

Willow did not deserve to be treated like that, especially since he knew her to be a virgin. Taking her hard and violently against a door would be different if she were a vampire, but she wasn't and he didn't want her as one. He liked her warmth and innocence and her beautiful soul, all of which would be gone if she was like him. Yes, she had her dark and naughty side, probably equal to that of any vampire, but it would never be tinged with cruelty or viciousness as long as she was human.

Somehow he was going to have to explain that to her. He knew she wouldn't be put off by a simple "I was horny." He'd wager if he said that, he'd be on the receiving end of some of her new magickal abilities. He didn't want their friendship to become awkward, because he valued what they had more than anything. He hadn't felt as close to anyone as he was to Willow since he was human himself and he liked the feeling. If that made him a soft, old coot, so be it.

Crushing out his cigarette, he quickly downed the cold coffee and tossed a ten on the table. He scooped up his lighter and half-full pack of cigarettes and made his way back to the hotel.

Once there, he stripped down and grabbed the remote for the television. Lighting up another cigarette, he flipped through the channels until he found a late-night movie on the free cable stations. Setting the remote down, he grabbed the ashtray off the night-stand and set it on the bed beside him, then proceeded to relieve his tension to the moans and writhing bodies on the screen.

A certain redhead's name tumbled from his lips and her image was behind his closed eyelids when he climaxed.

Tristan Allen Montgomery grew up in a small California town just like most of the students at UCLA. His hobbies throughout life included surfing, swimming and building structurally perfect sandcastles. He knew he wanted to be an architect when he took an architectural design class in junior high school. The idea of coming up with new and interesting homes had fueled his academic drive.

He had a great family, with two parents who obviously still loved each other and two sisters, one older, one younger. He had grown out of his shyness when he had joined the swim team in high school. Parading around in Speedos could do that to anyone. He'd had a few girlfriends, nothing lasting, because none of them had the girl-next-door quality he was searching for in a long-term relationship.

Now, at 21-years of age, he'd found someone with those qualities.

And she just happened to live right next door.

He was smitten with the redheaded hacker-cum-witch. She exuded both shyness and boldness that would normally would not occur simultaneously in a person. She was also beautiful, with luminous green eyes that flashed with silver specks when she got angry, a cute little nose and a perfect figure with abs that made him stutter when her shirt rode up.

He had thought he'd had it made. The wonderful freshman and the not-too-bad-looking upperclassman find romance among the halls of academia. It was something right out of the movies. He'd planned to take his time and woo her, just like an old-fashioned gentleman would do.

Then he'd met her "good friend," Spike.

Tristan wanted to punch the bleached-jerk's lights out the second he stepped into the snack bar. Spike looked exactly like one of those punks he went to high school with, who were in all the moron classes and ditched as often as possible. The ones who liked to beat up anyone who dared to look at them. The ones who partied hard -- drinking, smoking and doing drugs while destroying everything in sight.

He knew he had a skewed, stereotypical and possibly unfair view of those people, but something about Spike had struck a nerve within him. One that said "danger" to both himself and Will.

It had nothing to do with the fact that he was jealous.

Nothing at all.

Higher Learning XXVIII - This Was Spike!

"But this is Spike!" Angel growled, his usual brooding, lurking demeanor giving way to angry pacing in front of Willow.

"I know who it is," Willow sighed, shifting her position on her bed so she was sitting cross-legged. The dark-haired vampire had been saying the same things for the past two hours. This was Spike. Spike was evil. Spike was a killer. Spike used people for his own gain. Spike had kidnapped her. Blah, blah, blah.

"He doesn't have a soul, Willow," Angel said.

"He does, too," Willow said with a grin, remembering a past conversation with the blond vampire. "He picked one up the other week at Wal-mart."

Angel stopped abruptly and stared at her. "What?"

She snickered. "There was a coupon in the paper. A two-for-one sale on souls."

"Willow, this is serious!"

Willow thumped her head back on her ugly, yellow wall. "You're only making it serious. Spike is my friend. A good friend. The best friend I've had since before your soul went walking."

He gave her a pain-filled look and she immediately apologized. "Oh goddess, Angel, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"You don't need to explain," Angel told her. He sat down on Lisa's desk chair and studied her a moment. "Why him?"

"Why not him?" Willow countered. "He's funny, intelligent, caring, sexy, a good conversationalist, silly, hyper, wonderful... The list goes on and on."

"You think he's sexy?" Angel asked.

Willow blushed bright red. "Um..."

Angel leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. "Willow, Spike's dangerous. No matter how charming he can be, he's still a soulless demon. I don't want you to get hurt."

"I know you don't," Willow agreed. "But it's my choice who to have as my friend, not yours."

"But Spike is my responsibility," Angel countered. "I'm his sire and I know what he's capable of doing. I know, because I taught him. I'm afraid he's toying with you, Willow, just like he's done to hundreds of young women before. He'll keep leading you on until he takes your virginity, then he'll drain you and discard you."

Willow pursed her lips, her anger building. She knew that Angel only wanted to protect her, but that didn't stop her rising ire. "Angel, I am going to stay this once, then I never want to have this discussion again. Spike. Is. My. Friend. Nothing you can say or do will stop him from being my friend. Understand?"

Angel sighed heavily and nodded. "Ok, Willow. I'll drop it," he said, then rose to his feet. "Give me a call sometime and let me know how you're doing. Or stop by the office. Cordelia would probably like another female to talk to."

"Cordelia wanting to talk to me? That's like Xander dancing the perfect tango," she teased, standing as well. "It ain't gonna happen."

He chuckled and briefly hugged her. "Take care."

"I will," Willow replied. "Goodnight."

"Night," Angel said, then left.

Willow watched him walk down the hallway, his thigh-length leather jacket giving him a dangerous air. Somehow, she knew she hadn't seen the last of him, especially with Spike in LA. She shook her head and turned to re-enter her room when Tristan exited his. "Hi, Tris."

"Hey, Will," Tristan greeted with a large smile. "Still up for that post-dance party? It's in Jason's room."

"Sure," Willow said with a shrug. She pulled her door shut and locked it, then linked his arm with hers when he held it out. "So, what are we going to do at this party?"

"Oh, the usual," Tristan replied. "Sex, drugs, rock-n-roll."

"Ah, just another typical night..."

Higher Learning XIX - Taking Matters Into His Own Hands

Since Angel couldn't get it through Willow's thick skull that Spike was dangerous, he set about doing what he should have done in the first place.

"Cordelia, I need hotel registries for all those who checked in after sunset," he ordered, walking into the office. He knew the brunette would still be there, despite the late hour on a Friday night. She was probably the best and most efficient assistant in the working world, which he knew after only a month's time.

"Which hotels?" Cordelia asked, pulling up the correct files on the computer like he had taught her.

"Uh...," he trailed off.

"Got it," she said. "All of them. Any particular name you're looking for?"

"William something," Angel answered. "Or some derivative of that name."

Cordelia's fingers poked at the keyboard. "Well, a William Jackson is at the LaPalma. Um, William Longbeach at the Hyatt. William B. Smith at the Holiday Inn on Deveraux..."

"That's it," Angel said. "Print that one up for me."

"Ok," Cordelia said. "Mind telling me what the big rush is?"

"I'm just taking matters into my own hands," he told her, taking the paper from the printer. "Go ahead and lock up whenever you leave." He glanced down at the paper, nodded to her, then left.

A half-hour later, Angel parked his car in the Holiday Inn's lot and headed into the hotel. He took the stairs rather than the elevator, his fists clenching and unclenching as he approached the room. When 214 came into view, he had to stop himself from kicking the door in. Instead, he raised his hand and knocked sharply on the door.

A moment later, a shorts-clad Spike answered with a surprised look on his face. "What are you doi-" His sentence was cut off as Angel grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground, before entering the room and kicking the door shut behind him.

Higher Learning XXX - Uncertainty

Willow didn't know whether or not she should be standing outside of Spike's hotel room door at eleven o'clock on Saturday morning. On one hand, she wanted to know why he said what he wanted to do to her the previous night. On the other, she wanted him to do what he said he wanted to do to her the previous night. Every time she had looked at her dorm room door earlier that morning, she'd blushed bright red.

**Bad Willow. You're not suppose to be thinking of Spike like that,** she told herself. **He's your friend, nothing more. Even if you wouldn't mind it if he...** She blushed and wiped her hands on her shorts. First thing was first. Talking.

She knocked on the door and waited, then knocked again. When he didn't answer, she double-checked the room number and knocked a third time, much louder than the first two. "Spike?" she called through the door. No one answered.

**Did he leave?** Willow wondered. **Or is he just sleeping? But he doesn't sleep that much and I knocked pretty loudly. Maybe I should call.** She knocked again with the same results.

Frowning, she went down to the elevators were a hotel phone was sitting on a small table and dialed Spike's room number. She let it ring ten times and was about to hang up when she heard the other end pick up.

"What?"

"Um, S-Spike?" Willow said, uncertainty filling her. The male who answered had a sandpapery voice pitched very deep.

"Yeah?"

"It's me...uh, Willow," she said. "I'm here. In the, er, hotel. I'm calling from the hotel phone. It's by the elevators. On the second floor, not the first. Can I...do you still want to see me? Or should I go? I can go-"

"No, I'll open the door."

"Ok," she said, but he had already disconnected. Frowning again, she hung up and went back down the hall to room 214 to find it cracked open. She knocked as she entered. "Spike?"

Shutting the door behind her, she entered and saw that the bathroom door was shut. "Spike, I'm here," she said louder, moving further into the room and taking a seat in the chair near the heavily-curtained window. She nervously toyed with the brim of his cap that she took off her head.

The bathroom door opened and her eyes widened when she saw him. "Spike!" she exclaimed, dropping the hat onto the floor as she stood and rushed over to him. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Spike said, his voice gravelly. He took a step back from her when she tried to touch his face.

"You call a black eye nothing?!" Willow gasped incredulously. "And are those bite marks on your neck?"

"I'll heal," he said.

She stared at him in confusion as he moved purposely away from her, then sat gingerly in the chair she abandoned. She watched as he lit up a cigarette and leaned his head back to stare up at the ceiling. "Spike, tell me what happened, please?"

"Drop it, Willow," Spike growled.

Hurt, she walked over and picked up his baseball cap, then put it back on her head. "Oh. I guess I'd better go so you can...do whatever. I have homework anyway," she said. When she turned to leave, she suddenly found herself pulled on Spike's lap and his face buried against her hair.

"Stupid bloody pillock," he muttered, holding her tightly. "I'm not giving you up."

His words struck her and she felt her anger flare. "Was Angel here?" she demanded, rather than asked. She took Spike's silence to mean yes. "That...that...that...oooh! I'm so mad, I can't even think of a word to describe him!"

Higher Learning XXXI - A Lesson About Vampires

Willow winced in sympathy when Spike winced, as she laid another cold washcloth across his bare back. "Angel is so going to be newted," she muttered.

"No, Willow," Spike said, his arms wrapped under the pillow beneath his head. "He was justified."

"Justified!" Willow exclaimed, standing abruptly. She stared down at the khakis-clad vampire laying on his stomach on the bed with incredulity. "He was justified!"

He looked at her out of one eye. "Angel is my sire and he felt I was out of line. He has the right to-"

"That's bull-puckeys!" she snapped.

"Kitten, calm down."

"No, I will not! I am going over to Angel's and give him a piece of my magick," Willow said, sitting down on the floor to put her gym shoes back on.

"Willow, stop," Spike said firmly, his voice still rough. He raised his head and stared at her. "You will do nothing of the sort."

"But-but," she started, meeting his eyes with confusion. "He hurt you."

"Which I didn't bloody think he could ever do, being all soulful, but Hell must have really worked a number on the old sod," he said. He saw the anger flare in her eyes and he shook his head. "No, luv. There's a lot of things you don't know about vampires."

"So tell me," Willow prompted. "Tell me why I shouldn't go zap Angel where the sun wouldn't shine if he could go in the sun to begin with."

Spike laid his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. After a moment, he felt Willow climb next to him on the bed. "In all actuality, I'm kind of impressed with the ponce," he began. "He cares enough about you to make sure you don't get hurt and packs one hell of a bleedin' punch."

"He did hurt me," Willow said. "By hurting you."

His lips curled up at the sentiment behind her statement, which caused a happy feeling to settle in his chest. He continued. "If I was only toying with you, I would have been gone out of your life the second the pillock left. The fact that I really do bloody care about you is the only thing stopping me now. I hate to say this, but my sire is one fucking masterful vampire. I feel like I've gone back 200 years to when Angelus first turned me."

"You don't think he's...Angelus again, do you?" she asked, worriedly.

"No," Spike replied immediately. "If he was, I'd be dust."

"Oh, well,...um,...good," she said.

"Does that answer why for you, kitten?"

"I guess," Willow sighed. "It's very sweet, in a brutish fashion. And I definitely know for sure you're not my friend because you're using me. Oh! Not that I thought that before! In fact, I never thought that! I don't know why I said it..."

Spike chuckled. "It's ok, pet. It proves the same thing to me."

"I don't understand."

"Like I said already, it proves that I really do care about you."

A huge smile spread on Willow's face. "But I still want to turn Angel into a newt. Or a fish. I've been working on that one. Have you ever seen a eraser-shaped fish before? He's got the word 'Mead' scrawled across his fishy body. But he's dead. You can't make a live fish out of a non-living object."

"Willow, I have something else I want to tell you," Spike said.

"Oh, uh, go ahead," she said.

"It's about last night and my...behavior."

She shifted uncomfortably. "I kinda wanted to ask you about that, too."

He opened his eyes and looked up at her. Her face was a lovely shade of pink. "What did you want to ask?"

"Um...me...d-door...why?" she stammered.

"This is going to sound bad, kitten, so try not to get mad at me," Spike said slowly. She gave him a quizzical look. "I, er, am a demon."

"I think I already knew that," Willow said, when he didn't continue. He closed his eyes and muttered something. "What was that?"

"I said I wanted to mark you."

"Uh, I know my name is Willow, but I don't look like a tree."

He reopened his eyes and stared at her a second before he burst into laughter. Tears streamed down his cheeks, both from the pain and the mirth he was feeling. "Cor, kitten, when you put it like that, it sounds like I was going to piss on you."

"You weren't, right?" she asked after a moment.

"No, what I wanted to do involved a different, er, type of fluid," he said, his voice raw from laughing. She blushed bright red and he knew he'd better finish what he needed to tell her before she became so uncomfortable, she left. "Vampires do that sort of thing, pet, as a way to tell others to shove off."

"Oh. Well, ok, then. I guess." She looked everywhere but at him. "Um...oh, blood!"

"What?"

"For you. To, you know, heal and stuff," Willow said, quickly standing. She needed to get out of the hotel room to think about what he said. She couldn't decide if she was hurt or pleased -- hurt because he really didn't want her want her; pleased because it sounded like he was jealous of someone. "I'll just go and, er, get some. From...somewhere."

"Ok, kitten," he said. "Take the key. It's on the telly."

"Right. I'll be back," she told him, then left.

Spike sighed and relaxed against the pillow, glad that she understood. Ignoring the pain he still felt, he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.