The Summer Series


Willow & Spike: A Collection of Short Silly Stories

by: Saber ShadowKitten




I - Hunger



Crying. That was all she was capable of doing at that moment. Oz had decided, on graduation no less, that it wasn’t working out. So here she was, dressed in a flammable polyester graduation gown, holding a mortar with the yellow tassel, sobbing her eyes out. *Yes, Willow Rosenberg, this is your life. Doesn’t it suck?* she thought miserably to herself, rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of the gown.

She looked up, scanning the dark for any of Sunnydale’s bad guys, then resumed her long walk home from the school. Right now, she didn’t care if she were vampire fodder or not. She only wanted to pain in her heart to go away, or to be able to turn back the clock and delete the kiss with Xander that started the whole mess to begin with.

"Hello, red," a familiar cocky British voice interrupted her silent musings. "Fancy meeting you here, all alone, with no Slayer to protect you."

Willow whipped around, tears still streaming down, to come face to face with the cause of her worst nightmare which had come true. "You," she hissed, surprising him with the venom in her voice. "You’re the one who did this to me! You’re the one who’s at fault! I HATE YOU SPIKE!"

Spike blinked in shock as the red headed witch launched herself at him, fists flying. He tried to grab at her hands to stop the assault on his face, only to be kicked repeatedly in the shins. "Now, you hold on just a minute!" he snapped, his face morphing into that of the demon which inhabited his body. He got a lock on her wrist and twisted her arm, bringing her back up against his chest. She continued to kick back with her heel, which served to infuriate him more. Growling, he pulled up hard on her arm, causing her to scream out in pain and stop moving.

"It’s all your fault," she whimpered, her arm throbbing almost as much as her head. She began to sob again, Spike’s grip the only thing holding her from falling to the ground in a puddle of misery.

Confusion addled his brain as he listened to the small girl cry. The tears were not born of fear or pain, but of deep seeded heart break. He felt his own undead heart go out to her as he remembered that feeling not too long ago, when Drusilla had left him for good. Growling again, he shook himself mentally. This girl had attacked him, and no one did that and lived.

Willow felt her head being tilted, exposing her neck as the tears streamed down her cheeks. *This is it,* she thought. *I am going to be killed by the same vampire that had already killed my heart.* Cool lips closed over her neck and the world went dark.


*****


Hunger. That was all she was capable of feeling at that moment. It felt as though a giant, empty pit were in her stomach, begging to be filled. She heard a door open, then a scent so powerful, as it hit her nostrils, it almost overwhelmed her. Footsteps came closer to where she lay. "Hungry, pet?"

Willow opened her eyes at the same time she growled. Spike’s blue eyes peered down at her, taking stock in her appearance as she pushed herself to a sitting position. She reached out her hands and snatched her meal from him, leading him to smirk at her.

Without another thought, she sank her teeth…

"Careful, they’re hot," Spike warned.

…into the most delicious cinnamon roll she’d ever tasted.





II - The Cinnamon Conundrum



Chewing, she gave him a puzzled look as he sat on the edge of the bed, then blurted out the first things that came to her mind. "Why am I still alive? Where am I? And why the heck am I so hungry?" Willow asked around a bite of food.

Spike chuckled. "Last one first," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed by her feet. "You were probably crying for a bloody long time before I ran into you, right?" She nodded. "Then I went and scared you and you fainted," he continued. "I read somewhere that combination of crying and fainting sometimes leads to a woman awakening very hungry. So, I figured I ought to be prepared."

"Where’d you read that? Scientific America? AMA Journal?" Willow asked, curiously as she started on a second roll.

"Um…Ladies Home Journal," he mumbled in response.

"You read the Ladies Home Journal?!" Willow said unbelievably. He glared at her, and she shut up quickly, ducking her eyes in hopes that he wouldn’t kill her now. Which reminded her… "Why am I still alive?"

"Wasn’t hungry," Spike shrugged. "Plus, when I got to thinking about it, you could still do that love spell for me."

Willow’s eyes raised to him. He was looking down at his lap, picking at the black nail polish on his thumb. "But I thought you went back to torture Drusilla into loving you again?"

"How did you know that…oh, the Slayer," he answered his own question. "Anyway, it didn’t bloody work."

She frowned. "Are you trying to tell me that after she shunned your obvious devotion to her, you’d take her back?"

"In a heartbeat," Spike replied immediately.

"But you’re a vampire. You don’t have a heartbeat." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop him. Horrified, she watched wide eyed as he gave her an odd look.

"I guess I’ll be waiting a long time, then," he said.

Willow let out a giggle at his statement, then clamped a hand over her mouth, terrified that now she would be killed. She needn’t have worried. Spike’s laughter filled the small room as he thought of what she had said, the prepostery of the whole situation. "Listen, pet, as soon as the sun sets, I’ll take you home," he said to the hacker.

"Why did you bring me…wherever we are, to begin with?"

"Well, I couldn’t just leave you lying there in the middle of the street. All sorts of bad things are out at night," Spike answered, giving her a quirky grin. "I tried taking you to the Slayer’s, but no one was home."

"They were at the library," Willow said, then sighed. "I wonder if they cared I was gone."

"Hey, now, none of that," he chided. "I’m bloody depressed enough for the both of us."

"What do you have to be depressed about?" she asked. He gave her a look. "Oh…um, sorry." She looked down at the nearly empty tin of cinnamon rolls. "I didn’t know you could cook."

"I can make a few things. Hamburgers, cinnamon rolls," he replied, gesturing to the pan. "Pirogues."

Willow snorted, then shot him an embarrassed glance as her face reddened. Chuckling, Spike stood and held out his hand. "Come on, let’s go watch some TV until I can take you home."

Carefully taking his proffered hand, she climbed out of the large bed and followed him down the dark hallway of the house, wondering why she wasn’t peeing in her pants from fear. *Must be because we’re in the same boat,* she thought as they came to a living room with boarded up windows. *The Anti-Love Boat.* She giggled at the thought and he arched an eyebrow at her as he took a seat on the couch, picking up the remote and thumbing it on.

"You know, I really miss that Kendall lass," Spike commented absently as he landed on a station. "She was a bitch wrapped up in a sweet little package. Reminds me of Buffy."

Willow turned to him, her eyebrows raised this time. "You watch soap operas, too? Are you sure you’re a bloodsucking killer?" He chuckled as she groaned for not being able to control her words. "You know, I think I’ll just be quiet now."

"No, don’t," he said swiftly. "It’s been too quiet around here. I could use a spot of company."

She stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. "You want me to keep you company? Why?"

"Why not?" Spike said, looking away from the flickering television to face her. Seeing her frown, he continued. "You’ve made me laugh for the first time in weeks, you’ve got the most interesting working mind which leads you to blurt out what you’re thinking, and…well, you’re here."

"Oh," she replied, then turned her attention to the screen. After a few minutes, she looked over at him. He was scowling at the television. "Spike? I’m sorry. About Drusilla, I mean."

His eyes flicked to her, judging her sincerity. He gave her a small sad smile. "Thanks, ducks. I’m sorry, too, for whoever hurt your heart."

"Oz," Willow sighed as the pain started in her heart again, her eyes welling up with tears. "It’s your fault, you know," she stated almost casually. "If you hadn’t of kidnapped me and Xander, we wouldn’t have kissed because of the life or death situation, they wouldn’t have caught us and I’d still have my Oz." She was crying in earnest now.

Spike shifted on the couch next to her, staring at her with incredulous eyes. "My fault? How can your cheating on your beau be my bloody fault? I didn’t force your lips to that wankers."

Her cries stopped suddenly as he words sunk in to her brain. *He’s right,* she thought. *I was smooching Xander long before he kidnapped us.* She seemed to deflate before his very eyes. "Love sucks," she mumbled, picking at the last cinnamon roll.

"That it does, pet," he replied, putting his hand on her leg and squeezing it in a very non-Spike-like gesture.

Willow smiled slightly, her eyes roaming back to the television. "Who do you think would win in a fight - Buffy or Kendall Hart?"

His laughter once again filled the room.





III - When Whimsy Strikes



"Call me."

"Give us a bell."

"How much?"

"What’s the damage?"

"Did you say something?"

"Do what?"

Willow and Spike were still sitting next to each other on the couch, television long since been turned off, having an impromptu language class. Both were enjoying it immensely.

"Definitely."

"Dead cert."

"Jerk."

"Git."

"I’m tired."

"I’m knackered."

"Calm down."

"Don’t get your knickers in a twist."

Willow snorted at that one, taking a sip of the soda Spike had stashed away in his refrigerator. She glanced at her watch, noting that the sun had set a few minutes before and she needed to go. Even though she really didn’t want to. "One more?"

"Whatever strikes your fancy, luv," Spike replied.

"You know, I always wondered what that meant. Strikes your fancy. What’s a fancy and how do you strike it? Or, with what?" Willow said. "Or what about the phrase ‘whatever floats your boat’? A boat can only float on water, so what’s the point?"

Spike started to laugh so hard, his eyes watered. "Willow, you are a wonder."

"Is that good?"

"Dead cert," he replied, shooting her a cocky smile. Willow joined in his laughter, neither one anxious to end their pleasant day.





IV - E.T. Phone Home



"Um…Spike?"

"Yes, luv?" Spike said, looking over to the red head seated next to him on the couch.

"Do you think…maybe we can…" Willow stumbled over her words, trying to convey the fact that she was enjoying herself and didn’t want their new found friendship to end.

"Why don’t you ring your mum and the Slayer, then we’ll go out to the pictures?" Spike interrupted, sensing her thoughts, feeling the same way himself.

Willow’s smile brightened the room. "Really? That would be great!" She bounced up off the couch for the kitchen and the phone. Chuckling, the vampire dug through the newspaper pile for the movie listing. After a few minutes, she came back into the room, plopping back down on the couch.

"So, did E.T. phone home?" Spike asked, giving her a silly grin.

Willow giggled with astonishment. "You’ve seen E.T., too? Are you sure you’re a vampire?"

"Hmm," he replied, going through great exaggeration to check his pulse. "No pulse. I’m either a vampire, or a really talkative corpse."

"Well, you’re not blue. Or stiff with rigor mortis," Willow pointed out. "And your skin doesn’t seem to be falling off. Although, I’ve only seen your hands, face and neck. You could be hiding giant holes under the rest of your clothes."

"Want to find out?" Spike asked, wiggling his brows, his eyes dancing with devilment.

She blushed bright red, but grinned wickedly at him. "Maybe later."





V - The Art of Smoking



Walking. Talking. Enjoying the warm night air. These were the things that Willow was thinking about as they made their way to the Sunnydale Theater. To see a movie. With Spike.

"What are we going to see?" Willow asked, noting that he was shortening his strides to match hers.

"There’s several pictures starting at the same time," Spike said, searching through his pockets. "I figured we’d choose when we get there." He found his pack of cigarettes and pulled one out.

Willow watched as he lit it with a black, butane lighter. She saw him inhaled, then exhale the smoke into the night air. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Smoke. You don’t breathe," she replied, her brow knitted in puzzlement.

He chuckled, loving the strange questions she asked. "I breathe, but I don’t have the oxygen/carbon dioxide exchange."

She smacked her forehead. "That’s right! Breathing is a mental process, not just a physical one. Your subconscious tells you to inhale and exhale, even though you don’t have to. I should have known that. I took anatomy and physiology."

"Well, now you know," he said, giving her a quick grin. "And in case you’re wondering, no, I don’t need to use the loo." She laughed and they descended into comfortable silence once more.

Walking. Talking. Enjoying the warm night air. These were the thing Spike was thinking about as they made their way to Sunnydale Theater. To see a movie. With Willow.





VI - Coming Attractions



"What was your favorite part of the movie?" Willow asked as they stepped out into the dark night.

"The coming attractions," Spike answered dryly. She giggled, unconsciously hooking her arm with his as they began strolling down the street. "Just kidding, pet. I loved the whole kit and kaboodle. Almost as exciting as the seeing original in the theater."

"You saw Star Wars when it first came out?" she said excitedly. "That must have been so cool! I went with Xander and Buffy when it was re-released, but by then we’d seen it, like, a billion times on video. But to have been there when it first came out. Wow."

"Too bad you weren’t born yet, or I would’ve taken you, ducks," he said, smiling over at her. "Dru hated it. The flashing lights from their guns scared her. So did R2 if I recall. Went bloody on and on about the robot being evil, though why that would scare her is beyond me."

"Maybe she could understand what R2 was saying when he beeped," Willow suggested. "Kinda like listening to a record backwards for the hidden messages."

Spike chuckled. "Now, that’s a possibility I hadn’t thought of. I wonder what she thought he said…er, beeped."

"We can always watch them and try to figure it out," she said offhandedly.

"Good idea, pet. How about tomorrow? Say sevenish?" Spike said, looking anywhere but at the red head.

"Really?" Willow asked. "I mean, sure! That would be fun."

"It’s a date then," he replied, trying to hide the excitement he felt that he’d be seeing her again.

"Yup, a date," she confirmed, trying to hide the excitement she felt that she’d be seeing him again.

Friendships can be made under the strangest of circumstances. And this one between the human and the vampire was no different.





VII - Awkward Good-byes



"Um, well, this is it," Willow said, pointing to her house.

"I see that," Spike replied, nervously shifting on his feet. He stuck his hands in his pockets, then pulled them out again, before repeating the action once more. "I’ll see you tomorrow, pet?"

"Yeah," she said, a small, nervous smile hovering on her lips. "At around seven."

He nodded. "Well…"

"Yeah, well…"

"Until then, ducks," Spike said, winking at her and turning to walk down the street.

"Bye…oh, wait!" Willow called after him. He stopped and faced her. "Are you going to rent the movies or am I?"

"I’ll get the movies, you make the popcorn," he replied, then gave her a quick grin and continued on his way.

Willow watched until he was out of sight, then headed for her front door, her mind whirling at the fact that she’d just spent an entire day with Spike. And enjoyed it. Opening her front door, she called out her hellos to her parents, heading for her room. Once there, she collapsed across the bed with a sigh, drifting off to sleep only to awake a moment later with a startling thought.

"I didn’t know he liked popcorn."







VIII - Hollywood Video



Spike opened the door to the brightly lit video store and walked inside. Movies playing on the televisions mounted on the walls assaulted him, along with a multitude of people all out to rent the perfect video.

"Bloody terrific," he mumbled, heading for the counter where the applications for automatic membership cards were piled. He leaned over the edge and snagged a pen, then began to awkwardly fill it out. Not only was he left handed, he didn't have the opportunity to write that often and he was out of practice.

"Name: Last, First, MI," he read quietly out loud. Frowning, as quickly as he could he scanned the identification required to get a card and was relieved to note it was only a major credit card. He had one of those with his real name on it, as opposed to the driver's license he'd stolen from some guy who looked like him. Relieved that his night with a certain red head was not going to be ruined because he couldn't rent the movies, he continued. "Smith, William B. Address...um, hmm. What was my bloody address again?"

His brow furrowed as he tried to remember the number. Finally, he scribbled it in as well as the phone number. "Social Sec-Security Number. Don't have one of those," he said to himself as he went on. "Birthday. August 21, 1796. Employer. Don't have one of those either. Maybe I should put self-employed killer?"

Chuckling to himself, Spike went on. "Other names to put on the ac-ac-count. The Slayer bloody killed all my minions, so it would be a waste to put them on here, the stupid wankers." His face brightened who he could put. "Willow Rosenberg."

"Do you want a re-restriction placed on Rated R movies for any other names on the a-account? No. Do you want mul-ti-ple cards? Yes. Sign here," he mumbled as he read the words slowly. Signing his name, he recapped the pen and tossed it back over the counter, then looked around for someone to give the application to.

A bubbly teenager bounced up to him, clothed in the video store's trademark white shirt and bow tie. "Hi! All set? I just need your credit card."

"Here," Spike said, handing her the application and his card.

"It'll be a few minutes. Go ahead and get your movies," she told him.

Spike nodded then headed further into the store, searching for the Sci-fi aisle. When he passed the Action/Adventure section, he could have sworn he saw two guys going at it right on the floor. Shaking his head, he found the row he was looking for. "Aliens, Bladerunner, Dune, The Guyver, Mad Max, Solarbabies," he said as he went down the aisle, recognizing the movies from the video covers. He smiled triumphantly. "Star Wars, Empire and Jedi. Clever how they put them all together like this."

He pulled the video out from behind the first one, then the second, but the third was empty. "Where's the bloody picture?" Spike growled, looking behind the other nearby videos. Scowling, he went to the front to complain, when he saw a long row of recently returned videos.

Spike stood next to the row, head tilted sideways as he read slowly down the titles. *If it's not here, I'm going to eat every bleedin' one of you in the store,* he thought as he neared the end. But the patrons got lucky. "Figures," he said as he added the very last video to his pile.

Moving to stand in the long check out line, he shifted on his feet and let his mind wander to the red headed hacker. He couldn't believe how excited he actually felt to be seeing her again, not to kill her, but to be in her company. He liked the way she repeated things when she was nervous, and they way she asked strange questions out of the blue. She also had a sense of humor that was as dry and subtle as his own. His lips quirked in memory of something she'd said as he moved forward in the line.

"I had asked Xander to help me in the library and he asked if I was serious," Willow had said. "And I told him 'no, it was a joke.'" She had had no inflection in her voice, just saying it like any other sentence. He had laughed after she'd told him, adding that her oldest friend was still oblivious to her humor.

Spike moved forward again, this time frowning as he thought of Xander. He really didn't like that whelp, ignoring Willow's love for him, then after she had moved on, became attracted to her. He'd really like to torture the boy for that. Maybe her ex-boyfriend, Oz, too, for breaking her heart.

"Hi! You all set? There was one mistake on your application, but I fixed it for you. You mistakenly put 1796 for your birthday instead of 1976, but that’s ok, people get numbers mixed up all the time," the same bubbly girl who had helped him before interrupted his musings. He put the videos on the counter. She scanned his new card, the gave it, the duplicate and his credit card to him. "$9.26," she said. He gave her a crumpled up ten from the depths of his pockets, then accepted the change. "Thank you! Come again!"

Taking the videos once he got past the electronic security device, he pushed open the first door to head outside. In the small entry way before the second door were several quarter machines of candy or small prizes. With a grin, he dug out the two quarters he'd just received.

Prizes in hand, he practically bounced out the door and down the street towards Willow's house.

He had a date.





IX - The Search for Popcorn



"Popcorn, popcorn, popcorn, popcorn, popcorn," Willow repeated over and over as she searched the cabinets. "Where’s the bloody popcorn!" Realizing what she just shouted, she giggled. *Great, spend a day with a guy and end up sounding like him,* she thought, shutting yet another cabinet door.

With a big sigh, she opened the last cabinet and began to search through it, letting her mind wander. She had had so much fun with Spike yesterday. Granted, it started out badly, what with him going to kill her, but it ended up a lot of fun. *Maybe I’ll try to get killed more often,* she thought with dry humor.

Spike was such an interesting character. He’d seen so much, done so much, experienced so much. And she loved listening to him talk, not only because of his sexy accent, although that was a yummy part, but because he was a gifted storyteller. She almost felt like she was there. Snapping out of her musings, she hopped off the counter with a swear, slamming the cabinet door. "Great. Now what?"

Pacing, she wracked her brain. "I could call Buffy. Or Xander. Or Oz. No, not Oz, the lout. And Xander would want to eat it with me and Buffy would ask too many questions. Giles. I could call Giles," she said out loud, heading for the phone. She dialed his number quickly.

"Hello?"

"Giles, it’s Willow," Willow said into the receiver.

"Are you alright?" Giles asked, concerned. "You left so-so suddenly on Saturday."

"I’m fine. Well, I’m not fine, I have a problem," Willow said.

"Anything I can do to-to ah, help?"

"Popcorn."

"What?"

"I need popcorn. Microwavable. With butter," Willow said in a rush. "But I don’t have a car. And it’s too far to walk. And it’s night. And I need popcorn. Tonight. Now."

"Would you like to go to the grocers and get popcorn?" Giles asked calmly.

"Please?"

"Very well, I shall swing by to pick you up in fifteen minutes," Giles said.

"Thanks," Willow replied hanging up the phone and slumping against the wall. She looked at the clock, thankful that she had an hour before Spike was due to arrive, then headed for her room to put her shoes on and grab some money.

Giles arrived fifteen minutes later on the dot. "Hello, Willow. Ready to go?"

"Yeah," she said, shutting the front door. "Thanks a lot, Giles. I really needed to get this popcorn."

"Any particular reason?" Giles asked as they pulled out of her driveway.

"I have a friend coming over to watch movies," she replied, staring at her reflection in the glass. *Hmm, I wonder how he brushes his hair without a reflection,* she thought. *Or shaves for that matter. Angel never did answer me about that.* Suddenly, she realized Giles was asking her a question. "I’m sorry, what?"

"I asked who your friend was," Giles repeated.

"Oh, just someone I ran into the other night," Willow said truthfully. "No one for you to worry about me." *I know he won’t hurt me, but I can’t say that about anyone else,* she finished silently.

They arrived at the store and the two went inside, heading directly for the popcorn aisle. "Pop Secret, Jiffy Pop, Micro Magic, Generic," she read out loud. "Here it is! Orville Reddenbacher’s Movie Time." She grabbed a bright yellow box off the shelf, grinning like mad.

"Is that it?" Giles asked politely. "Do you need any…er, beverages?"

"Nope, just the popcorn," she answered happily clutching her prize as they went to the ten items or less check out lane. The cashier rang her up and Giles winced at the price. "C’mon, Giles."

Willow waved from her front porch as Giles drove away in his old Citroen, then went inside. She glanced at the same wall clock as earlier and shrieked. "Eep! I only have ten minutes!"

Rushing, she ripped open the box, the individually wrapped bags of popcorn flying all over the kitchen. Grabbing one, she ripped the plastic off and shoved it in the microwave, hitting the correct button. Then, she picked up the other packages, throwing them on the kitchen table before pulling out a chair to get a large bowl from above the refrigerator.

The microwave dinged, and she retrieved the bag. "Ow! Hot, hot, hot." Tossing the bag in the bowl, she plopped another one in the microwave, then set about opening the freshly popped one. She crumpled the empty, throwing it in the garbage can, then absently wiped her buttery hands on her pants. Her eyes widened when she realized what she’d just done.

With another squeak, she ran to her room, yanking open drawers to find another pair of comfy jeans. She hopped on one foot, then the other, pulling the new pair on. She heard the microwave ding again, then ran back down the hall to repeat her actions with the hot bag, this time not wiping her hands on her pants.

She picked up the full bowl and brought it to the living room, setting it down on the coffee table. Returning to the kitchen, she grabbed a couple of sodas, napkins and the salt, and brought them to the other room as well. She retrieved both remotes and put them with the food, smiling in satisfaction. Taking a deep breath, she let it out in a slow, nervous sigh just as the doorbell rang.

She had a date.





X - Hi


*Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god,* Willow thought, tucking her hair behind her ears, then changing her mind and pulling it free. She nervously wiped her hands on her pants then grasped the doorknob.

*Bloody hell, I feel like I’m going to heave,* Spike thought on the other side of the Rosenberg’s front door as he waited for it to be opened. He nervously stuck his free hand in his pocket and fingered the two plastic eggs from the vending machine. As the door started to open, all of his instincts were screaming ‘RUN!’

"Hi!" Willow said brightly, overly huge smile on her face.

"Hello, pet," Spike greeted, his own lips curling into a smile. He held up the videos. "Got the pictures."

"Good," she replied. "It would be hard to watch the movies if we didn’t have them."

"That it would, luv," he nodded. "Are you going to invite me in?"

"Yes," Willow said, tucking her hair behind her ears again. "But if you kill me, I’ll be really mad."

Spike laughed. "I’d imagine you would be."

"Ok. As long as we’re clear. No killing of anything in this house. Especially my fish," she said, frowning at him.

"Why would I kill your fish?" he asked, confused.

"Well, Angel did. When he was bad," she told him. "Strung them up like Christmas lights. Not that I’ve had experience stringing up Christmas lights. I’m Jewish. Oh! You’re still outside."

"That I am, pet," Spike replied with a wry grin.

"Well, come in," Willow said, making a grand gesture with her arm. "R2-D2 transliteration class is about to begin."





XI - Robot Moms



"See! He swore at C-3PO," she said, motioning at the television. They were both sitting on the couch, barely half a foot between them, sharing the bowl of fluffy, buttery microwave popcorn. "I wonder how his mom washed his mouth out with soap."

Spike snorted, almost spitting soda out of his mouth. "I don’t think they have mouths, ducks," he finally said. "Or mums."

"Well, somebody had to make them and teach them how to be good robots," Willow said using Willow-logic. "So technically, they had moms, then."

"Well, when you put it that way…" Spike said seriously, before breaking out into laughter again. "Cor, luv, I’ve never laughed so much in all my years of existence. And we’re only on the first picture!"

She grinned happily at him. "I’m having fun, too." She looked back over at the television. "Ut-oh, now he’s gonna get it."

Spike studied her for a moment, a small smile on his face. *Whoever would have thought humans could be so much fun?* he thought, grabbing another handful of popcorn before returning his attention to the movie.

Willow glanced over at him as she took another handful of popcorn. *Who’d of thought vampires could be so much fun to be with?* she thought, giving him a quirky smile as he caught her eye.

Happily, they both turned back to the movie.





XII - Picture Number Two



"Why don’t you put another bag of popcorn in the microwave while I…uh, go in the other room," Willow said, blushing faintly.

Spike smiled at her, surprised she made it through the first movie without a bathroom break, what with all the soda she consumed. "Alright, pet," he replied, standing and taking the bowl to the kitchen.

Humming the main theme under his breath, he picked up a plastic wrapped bag from the kitchen table. He removed the plastic, then looked at the back of the package, frowning. "This side up," he read out loud. He let his eyes scan the back until he found a number. "Two to three minutes," he said, opening the microwave door and setting the package inside. He hit the correct combination of buttons, and the microwave sprang to life.

Willow came into the kitchen, grinning happily at him, and went to the refrigerator to retrieve more sodas. "When you hear the popping start to slow down, take it out," she told him before heading back to the living room to set up the next movie.


Spike waited as told, then took the freshly made popcorn back into the other room, rejoining the red head on the couch. "Ready for picture number two?"

"Yup," she replied, with a shake of her head. She hit play on the remote, then settled back on the couch, grabbing a handful of popcorn and stuffing it in her mouth.

The familiar Twentieth Century Fox music started, leading into the John Williams theme. Willow bounced a little in her seat, and Spike looked over at her for a second with a grin on his face. Turning back to the television, the peroxide blond vampire looked at the words splayed across the screen. Having seen it so many times, he wasn't really reading it, just skimming them as they quickly rolled across the screen, using his memory to fill in the blanks. "Episode V, The Empire Strikes Back. It is a dark time for the Rebels. The Death Star has been destined and Imperial troops have drove the Rebel forces from their hidden base and then across the galaxy."

Willow turned her head as she heard Spike reading the words on the screen in a quiet voice. She wouldn't have even noticed if she hadn't have been reading along in her mind. Glancing over at him, she concentrated on his voice as he continued.

"Avoiding the Imperial Star Fleet, a group of freedom fighters led by Luke has a new secret base on the remote ice world of Hoth."

*That's not what it says,* she thought, frowning.

"The evil Darth Vader wants to find Skywalker destroyed remote probes into the far reaches of space."

*Ok, that was not really that close,* she though, as the movie began. Filing her questions away for later, she turned her attention back to the television screen.




XIII - For Future Use



Spike looked over at Willow as she bounced up and down on the couch with a raised brow. "Willow?"

"This is my favorite part coming up," she told him, gesturing to the screen.

"Of the movie?"

"Of all three."

Spike turned his head back to the television, intent on memorizing the scene that made one young woman bounce on the couch in excitement for future use. He could hear her saying the lines along with the movie, then sighed romantically when the part ended.

"I just love that part," she confessed, leaning back on the couch.




XIV - No-Bake Cake Mix



"Here," Willow said, tossing Spike a box from the cabinet.

The vampire caught it in his deft hands and looked at it. "We're going to make this?"

"Yup," the red head said, moving to another cabinet. "Ten minutes and boom - instant chocolate moose cake. Tell me what I need."

Spike turned the bright red box over and looked at the small writing on the back with a frown. "Why don't you read it and I'll get the stuff."

"'Cuz you don't know where anything is, silly," Willow said, looking over her shoulder at him as she took a mixing bowl and whisk out.

"Well, if you're going to use logic on me…"

Willow laughed brightly and his face lit up in its own smile, before turning back to a frown as he concentrated on the words. "Ok. You need one cup water, two eggs, one cup veg-veg-tible o-y- l."

She cocked her head as he stumbled over the words. "Water, eggs, vegetable oil. Anything else?"

Spike blew out an un-needed, exasperated breath. "Give me a minute," he said angrily, gripping the sides of the package hard enough to bend the cardboard.

Willow went about the stuff together, waiting patiently for him to continue, her mind working on the puzzle that started with the second movie. *He has a reading disorder,* she thought to herself. *Or he never took the time to really learn, but that can't be true seeing as how he's read the Ladies Home Journal.*

"This mix," Spike said, tearing open the top so roughly the inside package was torn. No-bake cake mix flew up in the air, landing on the floor, the table and a pissed off vampire.

Willow covered her mouth with her hand, trying to smother her giggle. When he glared at her, his face and hair full of chocolate powder, she let it out, clutching her sides in laughter.

"You think that's funny, pet?" Spike asked with a menacing tone.

She wiped the tears from her eyes. "If only you could see yourself," she got out. "Your no longer a blond." This sent her into more laughter.

The vampire rubbed his hand over his hair, brushing the powder off. It showered down to the floor around him, making the red headed hacker fall to the floor in a fit of giggles. He stared at her for a moment, angry that she was laughing at him, until the perfect revenge was practically in his hands. With two steps, he was standing over her. "Oh, Willow?"

Willow looked up at him, her face a combination of laughter and fear at his tone. "Wh-what?"

"This," Spike said, dumping the open box right over her.

She screeched, covering her face with her arms, laughter emanating from her prone form. She kicked her feet out as Buffy had taught her, intertwining with his legs and knocking him to the floor with a loud thud. Giggling, Willow pushed to her knees and grabbed an egg off the counter, sending it flying at his chest. It landed smack in the middle of his black T-shirt, gooey clear and orange parts smearing all over.

Spike growled with a smile on his face and lunged, grabbing the second egg off the counter and mashing it on top of her head, then massaged it in. "Witch," he said, as she struggled to upend the cup of oil onto him.

"And proud of it," Willow replied, getting most of the contents of the measuring cup down his shirt, the rest on herself.

He stood quickly and turned on the sink. With a smirk, he grabbed the hose and sent a stream of water at her. She squealed when the cold water hit her face and body, extending her hands out in an attempts to block the stream. Looking over her shoulder for ammunition, she spun so her back was facing him, whipping open the refrigerator door and latching on to the first thing in reach. More eggs.

Spike raised his knee up protectively as she started whipping the eggs at him, her face turned from the water. He quickly dropped the hose and went after her, grabbing both wrists and holding them above her head. She let go of the two eggs and they fell directly on both of his shoes, landing with a loud splat. He looked down, then back up into her dirty, chocolate streaked, wet face. "That wasn't very nice, kitten."

She shrugged, which looked comical to him, seeing as he held her arms above her head. She turned her head to the refrigerator and concentrated. Soon, an egg came flying out on its own and smacked him in the side of the head.

"Hey!" Spike exclaimed, surprised. He moved his grip to pin both her wrists in one hand, then used the other to hold her chin. "None of that tricky magick."

"You're no fun," Willow said, sticking out her lower lip in a fake pout. He started to chuckle, then laugh as the situation they were in hit him. "What 's so funny?"

"We just had a food fight in your kitchen, ducks," Spike replied, letting go of her wrists and stepping back. "I've never been in a food fight before, seeing as it's hard to throw humans around."

"Um…ew," Willow said, wrinkling her nose. Then she tried to picture a bunch of vampires' throwing people back and forth across a cafeteria, and the laughter hit her again. "Oh, goddess, that would be so funny to see."

"Well, if you're nice to me, I'll arrange it for you sometime," Spike said with a lopsided grin. He looked around at the mess in the kitchen. "I guess we won't be having that chocolate cake after all, luv."

Continued