Your World In Dreams

by Which Witch

Series: Blood Rain I


The library looked big and spooky in the darkness. But being in school at night can give anyone the willies.

Michael pushed the swinging door very slowly, trying to feel brave.

"Buffy?" he whispered into the shadowy room.

No answer. She must have gotten hung up at the shop he sent her to. Michael frowned. He didn't like the thought of waiting for her in the dark all alone on top of the hellmouth.

He walked slowly to the center of the library hall. The stacks of books at the far edges were not even seen through that darkness. "Buffy?" he whispered again.

"Yeah!" Buffy shouted suddenly, jumping from behind the shelves.

"Shit!" he screamed back at her, his hand flew to his chest "you scared me! Don't do that!"

She looked surprised "What?"

"Where did you come from?"

She pointed at the area behind her "I was back there, preparing. Making the... Ora-Orca... what you said".

"Orcala. What's in the back?" Michael went up the short staircase and they both walked to the back of the rows of book stacks. They turned a corner and into the small back office, where she lit a few candles and made a big circle on the floor out of white crystals. On the small desk he saw small stacks of the herbs and liquids he needed for the spell.

Buffy looked at him waiting for approval. This was her first actual spell casting, first one she took an active role in. She found it very exciting. Sneaking into dark alleyways to find the right magic-shops, all the new smells and shapes of magic things... and then there was the whole sneaking behind Giles's back and doing things he specifically said not to do, and doing it in his own territory. And if there was some kind of twisted up-side-down oedipalic thing there, she didn't want to know.


"It's good." he approved. Buffy was as proud as a little girl who's teacher showed her painting to the entire class.

"I really appreciate you doing this."

"Oh, you know..." his fingers trailed on the edge of the desk, touching the stack of dried leaves "anything for Willow." He turned to her "But this is tricky, so I'm asking you again - are you SURE you want to do this?"

Buffy thought about Willow earlier. She was a complete mess about her nightmares. Buffy's experience with those made her convinced even more that Willow has got something coming. The new danger they had found, this rapist-killer, just made her feel more protective of her friends.

Everyone kept warning her about casting this spell. But, what else could she do? Willow won't let her get close, so she had to use the best fried/Slayer remote-control.

"Yes." She said, resolved. "Tell me what to do."

"Ok." Michael put the black hood of his cape on his head. Buffy felt like laughing, but wisely didn't. Whatever does it for him, she was thinking. He motioned her to sit inside the Orcala, while he prepared the herbs and lit the fire under a test tube filled with a golden liquid. Buffy watched from between the crystals and candles with complete fascination. As he was moving gracefully about the room, mixing stuff together, he was talking in a low, concentrated voice.

"What we are about to cast is a cold protection spell. It is complicated, so I'm not about to explain every little thing I do. You won't get it anyway." He ignored her angry snort "what you need to know is that everything has to be precise and you have to do exactly what I say, when I say it. Here, hold this." He gave her a candle to hold in one had, and a small bowl with a familiar symbol painted on the bottom of it to hold in the other. She remembered it - the one that got the town all worked-up and caused the famous Sunnydale witch-hunts to begin. Before she could ask Michael about it, he filled it with a mixture of grind leaves.

"No questions asked. This is the big stuff. One thing goes wrong and nothing works. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, it's like an electrical current, need to be closed, blah blah blah... what?" she said in an arrogant tone at his questioning look "I can't have knowledge? Slayers know about these things too, you know."

"Do Slayers know that if we do this wrong something completely unpredictable can happen that we'll have no control over?" he said as he set in front of her inside the Orcala circle. "We may actually end up hurting Willow instead of helping her, so pay attention."

That made her very quiet. The last thing she wanted was for him to lose his concentration and have this cold-protection-thingy come bite them on the ass.

Her mind started to wonder when the minutes passed and nothing big happened, other then herbs being mixed and potions being poured. This was turning into the longest night ever. She was done with surveying the walls, done with surveying the floors, and went back to survey Michael's work. She decided his cape and hood looked pretty cool after all. Where could she get one of those? It looked pretty stuffy in it too. Can she go dancing in something like that? It sure was quiet. How long before something start happening?

"Why do they call it a COLD protection spell, anyway?"


Getting the materials for her spell was a piece of cake. Willow never got turned-down at the shop on Main Street. She suspected the 50-year-old shopkeeper had a crush on her. Whatever it was, it made it too easy to knock on his door at 3 AM. She left there with everything she needed all wrapped up in two paper bags and started back to her home.

Now, that was less fun.

Sunnydale at night - not recommended at all. And tonight, strangely, the streets were emptier and quieter then ever. A bad feeling crept up her spine. Something about this night, the so-called peace of it, made her suspect that she better get behind closed doors, fast. She quickened her step, and just in case, one hand started touching the stuff in the bags. She pulled out a big chunk of purple Amethyst, and a small glass container, which held a red liquid. She may need to start this as she goes.

Or maybe as she runs.

For at the edge of the block a man was standing, leaning on a wall and wiping blood off the corner of his mouth. She saw him in the exact moment he saw her. She screamed in the exact moment he laughed.

"Well, well, isn't this just a lovely icing on this lovely night's cake."

"You!" she stopped dead on the spot, her hand clutching the purple stone.

"Yep, I'm back. See, I keep finding out, there's no place like home."

She corrected herself. This wasn't a man after all.


"Buffy, I said no questions."

"But nothing is happening. What are we doing?"


"For what?"

"For this stuff to cool down."

"But... we just spent 15 minutes making it boil!"

"Yes, and now it has to cool down. This is how a cold spell works."

"So that's why they call it that?"

"No, it's because you take your time doing it. You prepare. You use judgment and self-control. You use all the ingredients to their fullest potential."

"As opposed to -?"

"Well, there is a hot spell. See, it has to do with state of mind. If you are in a rush, or if you're emotions are in turmoil, then you need something very fast and very strong. You use fewer materials, less words. The adrenaline of the witch does the rest. Makes it even more powerful. It's way cooler. "

"So why didn't we just do that? My butt is starting to hurt."

"Stop whining, will ya? We didn't need a hot spell, because we have time and the perfect conditions for a cold one. It's safer. Less chances for us to screw up. And it has it's own strength, don't worry."

"So, can't we do both?"

"God no! You never mix hot and cold."


Willow was now running, for what seemed to be forever. She could hardly breath, her lungs were burning and yet she didn't seem to be increasing the gap between her and her chaser. Her mind was a big mess of numbing fear and anger. And also, some sort of a relief. There it was, it was all coming true. Finally, she'll face it.

At first she thought she was dreaming again. Now she knew she was coming true. All her fears, all her nightmares, were coming true in one monster killer who was so close she was sure he could just reach out and stop her.

"Why the running, pet? It's not like I need to work up an appetite" she heard him behind. Maybe he wasn't as close as she thought.

New hope started growing inside her. She didn't have to die, she didn't have to end up in a pool of her own blood like in her dreams. She can save herself.

She will. She will not just die like that.

She will not let Spike win.

10. HOT

Just another night in good old Sunnyhell was all he could expect. A bit of moonlight strolling, a bit of Slayer dodging, and what else did this stupid place have to offer anyway? Oh, right, some great necks.

He had just finished with an excellent one when he saw the girl. Honestly, her reaction upon seeing him was wonderful. So shocked, so horrified... looked like she's seen a ghost and all that.

He was full. Didn't really need her. Maybe if she hadn't seen him he would have just let her be on her way to wherever she was thinking of going in the middle of the bloomen' night. But she did, and he a) couldn't let her run back to the Slayer with news of his happy return, and b) loved the expression on her face so much he couldn't afford himself to let her get away. Behind the fear and the panic, she looked almost like it was meant to be, like she was waiting for him all along.

Spike couldn't let her down, that would be wrong.

So they run. She did her part beautifully: run like all hell was after her through the empty streets. She didn't scream much so that was a disappointment, but still, all and all it was great fun. He didn't actually put any effort in it. He knew he could catch her whenever he decided. That was fun too.

Her hand was in the damn paper bag again, he saw. She was a strange one, she never let go of the stupid bags. He felt like pointing out that she could run much easier without those, making it all more interesting, but decided it wasn't his place to question her life or death decision. After all, it was her life and her death.

She was panting hard, he could hear that and he could feel her pulse running wild. She was also mumbling stuff, and Spike reached with his senses so he could hear, maybe smell her blood... and got dizzy.

He only wanted to know what she would taste like, but the smell overwhelmed him. He almost stumbled.

She was so obviously around "that time of the month" as humans liked to call it, it was mind numbing. To people it was a thing they rather not mention. To vampires it was like an intoxicating drug. It now made Spike think with out any logic that maybe this WAS meant to be, maybe she was waiting for him.

Well, whatever the hell it was, some faith or just a happy coincidence, he didn't feel like running any more. So he quickened his step and reached for the girl, grabbed her shoulder, turned her round, sank his fangs in her neck and drank until she was empty.

Or he would have, if not for the fact that in that instant she suddenly did something unexpected - she very sharply turned to the right and entered a bunch of trees. Spike was so surprised she did it, and even more surprised that he didn't see it coming, that he took a few extra steps in the wrong direction before he turned and entered the park after her.

It was very dark in the park, but that was nothing to him. Even if he didn't have the predator's night vision, the smell of her blood that he couldn't get out of his mind now led him straight to where she was.

He could see her on the other side of a clearing. How the HELL did she manage to get herself all the way up there? And what was the little bitch up to?


In the Sunnydale high-school library, Buffy and Michael had finished waiting and were getting ready to perform the casting.

"Ok, what now?"

"I pour this on the mixture of herbs and then you stand far away and say nothing."

"Well, you don't have to be so rude about it, GILES"

"It's for the spell, Buffy! I have to say the words and you can't interrupt!"

"Oh, ok, just put it like that!"


Willow stood in the clearing. Her heart was beating so hard it was sure to pop out of her chest any minute now. She could hardly breath and her mind was a cluster of thoughts and feelings. But she was going to do this, or she will die, so she made a super-extra-effort to calm down.

As she was running she worked it all out in her mind as best she could. She had all the ingredients she needed, and even if she couldn't perform the exact spell she planned on when she left her house that night, she still had the conditions for a spell to protect her. A different one, a more spontaneous one, a more dangerous one. Something inside Willow told her that a hot protection spell was way out of her league, but she felt she had no choice. Besides, her energy levels where so high, it was possible the spell would just work out on it's own, from the sheer power of her emotions. And she had one more ace up her sleeve - maybe she wasn't an experienced witch, but she was a witch three days away from completing her womanly cycle... and that will make her even stronger. Now... if she'll only have the time...

She already said most of the words as she was running. She didn't have anything to make an Orcala with, so she had to do with gesturing a circle with her hands. The Amethyst - her protection stone, was in the pocket of her blouse, close to her heart. As she spoke the words of the spell she could feel it starting to buzz. When it happened she felt relived, since the spell was working so quickly. Now she was starting to get a bit frightened. The Purple crystal in her pocket was burning a hole in the blouse. Willow bit her lip and took a tube filled with crimson liquid out of the bag. She poured it with shaky hands to the container she already held. Her lips never stopped repeating the final words of the casting, in a low, rapid, panic-filled voice: "Great mother and father, Hagenu Alay* " over and over again.

When the two liquids started merging in the glass into a solid deep-red color, she could feel things starting to change around her. Energy, particles of magic floating all around her. She was desperate to know where Spike was. Did he reach the clearing yet? He should have, he was running fast enough, but she couldn't risk looking and braking the spell, and she figured that if he got there before she finished, she would know about it.

"Great mother and fa-" Wind started blowing out of nowhere, Willow shivered as it hit her bare legs under her skirt.

A flash of light and a second later - -


That was wrong. Surly that's wrong. She could feel her spell getting out of her control. What happened? What did she do? Or did not do? The spell was growing strong, too strong, it felt like there was something more, something that shouldn't have been there, something she didn't ask for...

But she couldn't stop it now. She asked for the great mother's help and she will get it in any shape it will come. Her body was shaking with the power that flowed inside her...

Another thunder, louder this time, and a flash of light so strong it blinded her for a long moment.

The first thing she saw when the white light dissolved was Spike, jumping at her with his fangs showing.

She screamed as he run right to her, and her voice never got heard over the roar of wind, thunder, and vampire.

* Hagenu Alay = Protect me.

11a. Rain of Blood

Somewhere between watching Willow in amusement as she was gesturing wildly with her hands and mumbling, and the whole goddamn universe going crazy, Spike understood that things are not going to be as plain as they seemed before.

At first he thought she was loosing it or something, her fear of him making her a total basket case... that made him feel real good.

But then he felt it.

How bloody stupid of him! She was a witch, he knew that! Damn, he even used that once! How could he have underestimated her so much?

But at first even the thought of that didn't worry him too much. He knew witches, oh yeah, he knew some witches very well, and this girl was barely a beginner.

He stopped running and just stood closely and watched her casting what looked like a very baffled attempted at a protection. He even allowed himself to grin cockily.

Then the light, and the thunder. The wind started shaking the leaves out of the trees. His long coat swirled around his body like it had plans to break free. The whole bloody world seemed to be turning into a giant twister, and it focused on the little redhead girl with the tube in her hand.

Spike couldn't let her finish this spell. Whatever she was planning was obviously working... against him no doubt.

It was a simple matter of survival. If he didn't have the time to run away, and he doubt he could run away from that kind of power, then he would have to take his chances and try to stop her before she completes it.

So he charged. He aimed at her neck with his fangs, and planned to swoop her to the ground with him, braking her concentration and hence - her spell.

He made one move and felt like he went blind.

His eyes, set on heightened night-vision, couldn't take the light. For a split second he felt like he was burning down to a pile of ashes, destined to be spread in the high wind before the demon even realizes he's no more...

But his vision cleared, and Spike realized that he was inches away from the impact.

It was too late. He saw it coming but couldn't stop it. He would hit, and it

won't be a soft girly body he will feel, but a wall. A big, hard, tall, bone crashing wall... and Spike could actually feel his bones crushing as he hit the wall of her protection. He flew several feet in the air, landed by the trees, his arm braking, his rib cage braking, his consciousness flying away from him...

Willow watched all that happened with dismay. A stray thought crossed her

emptying mind when she saw Spike's flight through the air < it must have worked > and then she couldn't do much more then to stare blindly at the storm brewing above her head. A blue light flashed inside it, then a red flash... rain started to fall on her raised face... Willow closed her eyes for a few seconds to feel it.

Everything felt slow motion to her, not completely real, not really happening to her. Like residuals of a dream that hovers in the morning light. She didn't understand what had happened, what caused the world around her to react like that, but only a small part of her cared. The rain was falling warm and light on her face, wetting her hair. With every soft drop of rain Willow felt herself flouting, detaching, disconnecting with reality. She started turning slowly, her hands reached palms up to feel the showers. The lights that flashed inside her storm lit her face: blue, green, yellow, red.

Willow felt herself change. Something was happening inside her. There was a power growing there, as if the soft rain was feeding it. It felt like one part of her she never knew existed stepped forward, while the part that was levelheaded controlled Willow took a step back. Yellow, green, azure, purple. She was soaked. Everything in her world was alive and tingling. There were forces fighting in her body, fighting for control and changing her. Making her stronger, more focused, more alive. She could feel the struggle: something wild and unknown overcoming something calm and controlled.

She opened her eyes. The world felt small, she felt too big for it. There were no thoughts in her head now, just feelings, sensations... and desires. Whichever part won the battle over her was now in full control. The other Willow, the Willow she used to be two minutes ago, was somewhere far far away, hovering in the background but can't do anything but watch as the new force of magic took over. The lights flashed in front of her eyes: blue, red, yellow, red...

She felt needs growing inside her. There were thirst and hunger, fear and happiness... and there was an ever-growing urge to vent all this power that took control over her being. Her body felt so alive... everything was so sensual... her site, her smell, her sense of touch - everything became heighten in an instant, and Willow looked around wide-eyed in the rain, trying to see, to smell, to feel everything at the same time. Her body tingled with the desire to become bigger... become more... become whole...

Her eyes focused on the body by the side of the path.

She wanted THAT. She wanted what he could give her.

A smile came sneaking around her face... to be bigger... to be more...

And she looked up and smiled at the purple, red, green, blue, red, red, red, red...

11b - Rain of Blood

"...See you dancing in your own damn rain"

(Let's get lost / dEUS)




Spike screamed when conciseness struck him. It was brutal. Like cold water on his face, only with some bashing and other torments. His body had barely began to heal yet. He could feel the bones of his ribcage moving back into place, and that was pure hell.

His troubled mind tried to make sense of what he was feeling, what he remembered, and what he was seeing, and that was the hard part. His vision was still blurry from the impact and the pain of his organs moving, but he knew the witch was just in front of him. He could smell her blood and her magic, and he could hear her. She was bloody laughing!!

< Oh, that little bitch is so dead! > He thought as he struggled to get up on shaking legs, his face already demonic, preparing to suck the laughter out of her < The fucking bitch is going DO...W...n... what the hell - -? >

She was standing in the rain. He could see it now, he's eyes saw clear and sharp.

But he couldn't believe it.


All red. And a woman, standing under clouds that rained on her alone. Her clothes were wet and tight against her body. He could see everything. EVERYTHING. She didn't seem to care. She was standing with her hands stretched high, looking at the sky and laughing... laughing like a child.

She looked like a ghost, not something real at all. But that's not what made him shiver.

She locked her eyes with his with a predatory smile, and he read hunger inside it, desire and command. That's not what made him move closer.

He could read her body, every shadow and every curve. But that's not what sent flashes of desire through him.

It was the rain... the red rain.

It was the most beautiful thing Spike had ever seen in his entire life or death.

She was standing in a rain of blood and all Spike the vampire could think and feel and want at that instant was to drink it, drink her, fill himself up with her and her rain of hot sweet blood. This pain, this hunger, was nothing like before. Not even when he first rose. Never like this, not with this pain, not with this hollow feeling.

Willow saw his eyes. There wasn't much she knew in this state where all she was was a mass of exposed nerves, but she understood that he wanted what she did. She knew lust - -

And the thought struck him that he'll never get pass the force field that was guarding her, and he thought he would loose his mind. If he won't drink her he will LOOSE HIS MIND! - -

She lowered her hand, gesturing to him to come in. She was inviting him into her circle of protection, the very thing that was meant to keep him away.

Spike did not wait a second more.

He swooped through the air in a well-trained motion, like a bird of pray, to catch its victim in its deadly claws and keep flying in one fluid movement. He knew with a predator's instinct the exact place his fangs will sink into her neck. He knew the taste she will have - the finest he had ever tasted.

He knew it in his blood.

He craved it.

His flaying body felt the light shock - like a wave of electricity - as it went through the force field of the protection.

And everything changed.

12. In Her Spell

He didn't control anything, he didn't choose it, and he didn't even feel himself change, but it had happened. Instead of a demon he was a man and he did not meet her throat with his fangs, he met it with his lips.

They fell to the ground from the impact in what seemed to be slow-motion, and as Willow's back met the cold wet ground Spike's need changed as well: not to devour but to conquer. His lips closed on hers and he felt her body tremble with delight of the contact. YES. Her hands told him that as they sank in his hair to bring him closer and closer yet. MORE.

"... Some erotic feel

keeps coming on

It's so unreal

I come undone"

Something completely basic was happening, something primal that the demon in him embraced. Hands tore at clothes to be skin to skin in the rain, flesh to flesh. Her skirt was the first thing to go - he tore it off and it was so simple... then her blouse, his coat, her bra, his jeans - everything that could get in the way of the act of mating.


Some shady deal...

Despite the black

the light gets in

Through every crack"

She could feel him touching her everywhere, and she wanted more. It felt like a union with this male was of the up-most importance. There was pain behind the pleasure, hot scorching pain that wasn't there a minute ago, and with every movement of hips against groin, with every touch of hand against curve the pain got worse. She was on fire. Her mouth was open on his cold bare skin, licking hot raindrops and the taste of him with eager abandonment. A lifetime, a split second since she hit the ground, and she was already right there, at the end of her long run, ready for him to do... whatever it is he could do to make her stop ache. She was ready. She couldn't wait anymore. She didn't WANT to wait anymore. He had no choice in the matter. Her hot rain got stronger around them, hissing as it touched his cold flesh.

She opened her legs for him.

"Then I look back (I find a frame already built)

When I look back (it's still waiting to be filled)"

A storm of hot rain and flashes of light. A storm of swirling bodies and needs. Hands moving, grabbing, touching. Voices inside the deafening sounds of the wind: her panting, him swearing, her laughter....

Then he entered her body and she didn't laugh any more.

And so, there it was. Pails and pails and pails of human blood to maintain the dead body. Generations of pain and suffering. All it took to feel alive was this tiny moment in time, this tiny place, this hellhole town.

In this park, on this ground, in this girl.

He pounded inside her until he lost his mind.

"Why is it that (time between and no time left)

Why is it not (sweeter then I ever thought)

How can it last (make it last a little more...)"


In the library, Buffy and Michael were also on their asses, thrown to the floor by the force of the spell.

Buffy, all drenched in sweat, looked at him and panted: "God, who knew spell casting can be so exhausting!"

Lyrics: "Gimme the heat" (by dEUS, from 'In a bar under the sea')

13. The Rain Stopped

The rain stopped. Willow opened her eyes to see the last red drops fall down on her face. How long was she lying here on the ground trying to catch her breath and her thoughts? She couldn't tell. She was just now coming down from the euphoria cloud of her orgasm. Her head turned to the side, where her mate lay. He was looking at her as well.

Without a word they both got up. Stared at each other for a bit. Spike was wondering halfheartedly about her reaction now. Does she know what happened? What would she do when she realizes? Would she scream? Faint? Go mad? Will she run from him?

He followed her eyes as she surveyed the place where they stood. Weatherly park, the largest one in Sunnydale. Very public, even at night. A stupid couple can walk by. A vampire can walk by.

A Slayer could.

And they had sex right there, in the open. Her first time, too. She was standing there naked in front of him. What would she think? Would she cry? Yes, any minute now, he thought. What happened here was most defiantly supernatural. All that rain... her standing in it... he got aroused just thinking of that. But now the rain stopped. The thing, whatever it was, was over. Will she cower in front of the demon to which just a few minutes ago she so willingly gave her body?

Her eyes finished looking around, came back to him.

And he knew 'it' wasn't over. She didn't cry, she didn't cower by his feet and begged to be spared. She was still in complete control, of both of them.

With out a word, they both got down and grabbed their clothes. They started dressing distractedly, with out paying much attention to anything but one another's eyes. Voices came in the distance - a dog barked. Someone was screaming in horror. A lunatic laughed an icy laugh.

The vampire and the witch were putting on their cloths.

He watched her putting her ripped skirt on, her blouse where only one button was left. She didn't bother with the bra or to find her lost knickers. He saw how her nipples were all hard and he knew she saw exactly how he was when he so painfully closed his jeans.

They finished. They stared for one more moment. Things passed between them that needed no words. He said, she answered. He suggested, she accepted. He turned his back and started walking and he knew with out a doubt that she follows him.

The agonized screams in the distance died out with a long, dog-like howl of pain.

They left the park and started down the street. He was making their way to a part of town she never went to if she could help it. No good girls would.

She now followed with out a word.

He could feel her behind him, like there was a flame coming out of her, like she was herself a flame. Her fire burned in his back and he got so hard he couldn't stand it. He reached his hand to her without turning, and she took it without questioning.

They started running.

Into a dump of a building, up filthy stairs. He let go of her hand for the first time since they started running, to find a key to open the door. She leaned against the wall, panting. Her lungs were burning but she didn't care. Everything else was hurting more. Her breasts, her finger tips, between her legs she was on fire.

"Fuckin 'ell!" he screamed when he couldn't find the key. She grabbed his shoulder and turned him around, pressed herself against him. She didn't care; she wanted him inside her right now. His mouth crushed hers and his tongue thrusted inside wildly, making her moan in pleasure. His hand crawled up her pathetic excuse for a skirt. She growled, sounding very much like a vampire... he let her go. If he didn't she would suffocate. She wasn't a vampire. What ever she was now still needed air, even if she didn't know it.

Spike turned in a flash of movement and tore the door of its hinges. He grabbed her and pulled her in after him. The place was dark, no light at all coming from the outside; no light could through the heavy curtains. Didn't matter. He wasn't hung-up on seeing her just then. He just wanted flesh. He just wanted a fuck.

They pressed against the wall and kissed brutally. His hands went up her thighs and she moaned in increasingly high-pitched voice. He found that amazingly arousing. And there wasn't much more arousal that he could take.

And so not even a minute after entering the apartment he was already where he wanted to be - deep deep inside her.

She grabbed him with both legs, thrashing her head about and crying-out, and he felt himself change and become the demon in his lust and he pounded inside her, as hard as he could and she could take, and even if she couldn't he didn't care.

And suddenly Willow was grabbing his head, with both hands. She made him look at her, look into her eyes. Her voice, when she spoke, was panting, hoarse, hardly resembling the way the little girl she was once sounded. She whispered to him: "where I'm going... I'm taking you with me." then she fell into oblivion of a climax so hard it shook both of their bodies. It was so hard it made him come.

Hard, long, no-brain climax.

This lasted forever. Until he thought she is going to faint. Until he thought he was going to stop breathing.

And he hadn't taken a breath in hundreds of years.

14. When you can't run, can you hide?

Willow floated slowly into conciseness. There was something inside her that objected to it, rebelled against waking up.

But finally she did. There was no point on resisting. She didn't hear the alarm clock go off, so she's obviously already late for school - -

Her eyes flew open and she looked around, completely and utterly confused.

Where the hell was she?

A huge bed with dark sheets, all messed up around her and on the floor, two chairs by a window that was covered not so neatly with a dark fabric. There were things lying all around in no order. Books, records, clothing... this was a boy's room.

Willow sat down and drove her hand in her hair to keep it out of her eyes. She tucked it behind her ear. She didn't know that many boys, and this room did not belong to either of them.

Her eyes trailed the room, from the tall lamp that stood on one leg in front of a couch at the far end of the room, to the big muddy boots by the bed, to the trail of dirty-looking T-shirts on the floor... some pants... underwear... a skirt...

Her skirt!

"... OH... MY... GOD!"

This wasn't a boy's room. This was definitely, with out a doubt and very much so a MAN'S room!

And she was in the bed! In a SERIOUS case of nudity, her most intimate articles of clothing hanging from the arm of the couch!

Her hand shot to her mouth to block out the scream.

Night - moon - dream -

She jumped out of the bed and grabbed her shoes and socks. Her eyes searching wildly for the rest of her clothes in the mess of the apartment.

Park - rain - light -

She found her skirt, but it was un-wearable. Tears started down her cheeks as she allowed the shapeless material to fall through her fingers.

Spell - rain - sex --- SPIKE

A long coat was hanging on a hook by the door. Willow wore it. The door wasn't locked. In fact, it wasn't hooked to the frame, it just leaned there... what kind of a place was this??

Willow broke out into a street she didn't know, into the dawn that just now started painting the sky pink. Where was Spike? She needs to get away before he got back from wherever it was he went to, probably to - ok, no, she won't think about that.

She ran in the unfamiliar streets until it was day. At least she was now safe from creatures that only survived at night, but there were still things out there the thought of made her run faster in the general direction of what seemed to be a better part of town.

The sound of a car approaching made her turn in panic, which turned into a sigh of relief when she saw it was a cab. A few handshakes and desperate cries got it to stop. Willow leaned against the window so she could talk to the driver. He was a shady looking man with sparkling beady eyes, but that wasn't impressing Willow after what she's been through, the details of which were just starting to come back to her.

"Hey... sir... em... could you help me, maybe? I - I'm kinda lost out here and stranded - "

"You need a ride?" the man said in a cigarette-burned voice.

"Oh, yes! That's exactly what I need, only... I ...I don't seem to have any money on me, and while I realize you have no reason to care - "

"You don't have any money?"

"Well, no, but - "


"No wait! You have to help me, I - I promise I can pay you as soon as you get me to my house."

"Oh, you do, do ya?" the driver chuckle sounded more like a cough. And it never reached his eyes. He surveyed her appearance: the messed up hair and the raincoat with nothing under it.

"Well, yes... I can see why you won't believe me, but I WILL pay you. If you knew me you'd know I don't lie. I can't lie! Look, I just need help, I have money - "

"In your house, right?"

"Yes!" Willow was on a brake of crying again. "Please mister, you can't leave me here."

"Sorry girly, you wanna ride in a cab, you gotta have money."

"Oh, but - I have money, I HAD money, but I lost my purse in..... Well, the park I guess - "

"That's heart-braking, really sweetheart, but find yourself another sucker. Maybe your pimp will give you a ride."

"My WHAT?"

"Bye now."

"Wait!" Willow yelled just as he was starting to drive off.

He stopped. Looked at her.

She locked her eyes with his. She reached and opened the door, she sat in the sit next to him. "Take me home." She said.

He had a blank expression on his face, and she could have written anything she wanted on it.


She told him where, and the cab took off into the empty street.

Willow sat in the front sit and gazed blindly out the window at the town waking up. She looked at everything as if she was seeing it for the first time. And maybe everything was different now. After all - her life will never be the same.

How did it happen? How did she loose all control over her life and faith like that? She didn't know. Willow couldn't bring herself to think about it all yet. She wasn't even sure she remembered it all yet. She hoped she did, because what she did remember was enough to make her want the ground to open up and swallow her. Was there a moment, an instant, when everything that was sane in her life shot straight to hell?

Tears came again. What was she going to do? SEX WITH SPIKE! How will she be able to look them in the eye? What will she tell them? What will she tell Buffy? This was more then about loosing her well-kept virginity to a monster-killer, more then just about doing it with a vampire. A VAMPIRE, for god sake! But what about a vamp who went out of his way to cause pain and/or possibly death to Buffy? This demon kidnapped her and Xander - almost got him killed in the process! What happened last night was disgusting.

The view out side changed. Well kept lawns and big spacious streets replaced small apartment buildings and filthy allies. Willow brushed her tears away and new ones followed. How is she going to tell them about this? They'll never understand what she did. SHE didn't understand what she did.

Buffy slept with Angel, true. But Angel was good, he had a soul, and they loved each other. What's her excuse?

Of course, there were unnatural forces in operation, but she's the one who brought them on, wasn't she? She carelessly and stupidly thought she could handle a casting of such big magic, and messed it up so bad that she ended up on the ground, getting her cloths ripped off of her. True, she wasn't herself and she wasn't in control, nor was he, to be fair, but.... When it all happened, she felt like she was watching it from the outside. Willow was on the ground, against the wall, on the floor and on the bed with the vampire, and Willow was standing in the background looking, not making any effort to stop it all from happening. So, it was really all her doing. Some witch she turned out to be...

Oh, god, Giles will kill her. He will never stop lecturing her for as long as they live. And Buffy will go hunt Spike and tear him into little manageable pieces. Which wasn't an unhappy thought... Oz!

Oh, no, Oz... He will never - how could he ever?!

She won't tell them.

The decision came clear and perfect in her mind as the cab pulled into her street. No one will ever know about this, she will take this to her grave. She won't be judged by her friends, she will never hurt her boyfriend like that.

She won't have to.

As she stepped out of the cab into the house to get the money, she suddenly realized how she got there. She run outside and the cab was gone.

What did she do to the guy? How was she able to "push" him into doing what she wanted and didn't even realize that she was doing it?!

Oh, this was way too creepy! Having powers you can't control, using them against innocent people without even noticing? This was a gift she never wanted.

Another unwanted residuals from the whole fiasco that became her life in the past night.

She stepped inside again, with the money still clenched tightly in her hand. The house was quiet, everyone still asleep.

No one even noticed she was gone.

But she was gone.

15.This bird has flown

She was gone! He couldn't believe it!

Spike stood in the doorway, feeling like a complete tosser with the pizza-box in his hands. He brought it for her to eat, because he thought it only fair, since he left her to get something to eat himself.

"Well," he said to the empty room "I guess this means the spell's over."

A shame, really. She was quite the experience, that red head.

He tossed the hot box of pizza on the floor, next to some sox, and sat on the bed. The inside of it under the covers was still warm, so she must have just left. All the better he missed her, then. The last thing he needs was a hysterical little girl who realized she just spent the night doing the wild horizontal with someone she wouldn't usually spread her legs for even if her life depended on it.

She was probably feeling all tainted and guilty-like right about now. Probably running in the streets in blind panic. Spike smiled to himself. He had that effect on women. The girl probably blames it all on him, or on some supernatural force. She thinks what happened to her tonight was unnatural.

But Spike knew that there is no such thing as supernatural. There was nothing unnatural in the universe because that was entirely a human term that meant "inhuman" or "unexplainable". In reality, everything was natural, everything belonged to nature. Even the lowest slimiest beast. Even the demon inside him, the demon he was, just as the human she was. Which is why he did not fight this sort of things, he accepted them.

He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. Little by little, as he was lying there, the coldness of him drove away the warmth her body left behind.

But not her smell.

Her smell stayed in his nose and in his brain. He could smell her hair, her flesh, her lust. The dirt that stuck to her body when she was on the ground in the park, and the blood that poured from her body to that ground as he entered it.

And beyond all those, he could still remember what the rain smelled like. And he had a sneaky feeling that it will be a long time before he will forget the smell and site of her rain of blood.

He accepted that too.


The good old days

May not return.

And the rocks might melt,

And the sea may burn..."

Lyrics: "learning to fly", by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers (from 'learning to fly')

The End

But not really. Up next:

Blood Rain II -

"Pleasure Spiked with Pain"