Title: The Games We Play - LA, Leather Pants, Hellfire And The Roof Of A Desoto
Author: Anastasia (Charlie1@acay.com.au)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I own none, not even the Hellfire Club, just borrowing them for my own twisted pleasure and public humiliation.
Feedback: If you want me to continue this it is kind of mandatory - if I don't get nagged I just don't write. Also not sure if this story really works, so tell me...please!!!
Notes: Okay this is the first story in a series I am doing called "The Games We Play". Season Four is implied and shock horror I have bought Oz back (just for a little while). I have also bought back the Desoto. This series isn't going to be all angsty, it will be a reflection of normal life and relationships, a few twisted and hopefully funny moments and a couple of things that will question my sanity. Maybe. If I don't get feedback then it stops on the roof of the Desoto. Oh, yeah, Inell this is the story I was telling you about - there you go it's just for you!! What?? Charms?? Ummm, think of this as a writers block kick start...it's coming ok.
***
Spike wandered along the pavement smoking a cigarette reflecting on his unlife in Sunnyhell. It was crap. He had spent the earlier part of the evening sitting on a park bench watching all the little happy meals walk past, young, pretty and weak. Silly little chits who were stupid enough to walk alone, smiling their flirty little smiles at the demon having no idea how tempting they were to him. A few months ago he would have flirted back, teasing them, making them want him and then he'd give them a hicky they would never forget. Well actually they wouldn't have the opportunity to remember they'd be dead. That was then, this was now, all he could do was look, scowl and muse over his past conquests.
This was his life now, defanged and reluctantly involved with the slayer and her little support group. Shaking his head he took another drag on his cigarette as he glanced down the darkened street. The wolf's van was parked out the front of Giles apartment complex. His features formed a half snarl, the wolf had been back for a month now. After a week of tears, meaningful conversations and the encouragement of the group Oz and Willow were once again in a relationship. Ever since then he'd noticed that Willow had turned into a complete bitch - her temper was short and she was constantly fatigued. Spike thought she was a fool to take the wolf back, he had hurt her once and he would do it again - it was in his werewolf nature to want a mate of his own kind and it was only a matter of time before he'd leave for a bitch.
Spike leant against the van, finishing his cigarette and musing over his thoughts. That's when he heard it. Turning his head slightly he listened, amused at the soft grunts and groans coming from the interior. Smirking he felt the van move under his shoulder as the moans of the wolf became louder. Turning his gaze back to Giles he continued to listen - it had been too long. Sure Harmony hadn't been his dark goddess, but what the hell she was still a fuck. Closing his eyes he concentrated on the sounds, on the passion in the wolf's pleadings, and then he smiled at the soft moans of Willow. An image flashed through his mind he could see her wrapped around him, writhing beneath him as he fucked her, moaning for him. Biting into the side of his cheek he again thought that it had been far too long. Oz begging Willow to come interrupted his thoughts, the sound he heard next made him raise an eyebrow. Focusing on Willow's moans he started to smirk - she was faking. The wolf wasn't man enough for her. He rolled his head forward and suppressed his laugh as he heard the wolf practically howl as he came.
"That would explain the moods." Spike muttered to himself as he flicked the cigarette butt away and banged on the side of the van. "You two get a bloody room!"
He laughed as he heard them scrambling about and walked up the path to the watchers house. Giles had wanted him back at 7.30; it was now closer to 8pm.
"At last." Exclaimed Giles as Spike sauntered into the living room. "Well, now all we need is Willow."
"She's coming," Spike exaggerated his pronunciation of the word, just as a flustered and dishevelled Willow walked through the door. Spike grinned at her, causing her to turn a brighter shade of red, before leaning in to whisper in her ear. "Can I offer you a cigarette, pet?"
Smirking Spike turned away from Willow's seething glare and plopped down on the couch setting his feet on the coffee table. "So what is the deal this time?"
"Angel," Giles began only to be cut off by Spike groaning and rolling his head back on the couch. Ignoring the vampires dramatics Giles continued. "Angel believes he's acquired a laptop that belonged to an associate of the council. You two are going to LA tonight to pick it up."
"What?" Spike asked incredulously, he could hear Willow begin to protest.
"Well, if the assumptions are correct it could be a valuable asset to us. The reputation of the man in question is phenononamble - he was brilliant and highly committed to his duties. His files could be of great significance." Giles said elatedly. Spike looked at the watcher, only Giles could get this excited over the possibility of knowledge. "The problem is the computer has a complex security system - Angel can't even get into it. Therefore Willow is the best person to go, considering her technical knowledge."
"You mean hacking ability." Willow stated joining Spike on the couch and staring dejectedly at his boots on the coffee table.
"Why do I have to go?" asked Spike, sounding like a sullen child. He knew exactly why, the wolf had a gig, Xander was busy shagging as was the slayer. Also he had the ability to drive - something relatively few of the Slayerettes appeared to have mastered.
"It could be dangerous." Giles replied.
"So send the slayer," Spike stated.
"Spike, you could at least try to be a little more enthusiastic." Giles sighed; he had his reasons for not sending Buffy and didn't feel it necessary to share them with Spike or Willow.
"What? You want me to fake my enthusiasm?" Spike asked in wide-eyed innocence, while brushing his arm against Willow's, causing her to jump. "That just wouldn't be right. I mean faking is just a terrible act of deception."
Giles frowned at the vampire who was attempting to stifle his laughter. Shaking his head Giles took a deep breath.
"Go now," he ordered, his patience wearing thin. "Angel is expecting you there by ten."
***
Spike eased himself into the drivers' seat of the Desoto and waited for Willow, she was using Giles bathroom.
He loved that car; it was part of him. When he had first realised he could still maim, damage and destroy non living creatures he had gone straight to Harmony and her little air headed cronies and savagely beaten the crap out of every single one of them before staking them. Of course Harmony had begged for forgiveness, he'd repented and let her service him...then he'd staked her. That was months ago. The Desoto and the sweet feeling of revenge were the only things that he took with him from that brutal and bloody night - and he had been grateful for the car ever since. Although when he had first seen it he was absolutely disgusted and cursed that he'd staked Harmony so quickly - he should have made her suffer for the damage to his beloved car. The paintwork had been scratched and some of the panels were dented, she had put fluffy cow design car seat covers on because the original leather seats had been slashed and a silly comic character hung from the rear vision mirror that had been covered with old photos of her. The tires were low as was the oil. The thing that had made him want to heave though was the cassettes that littered the interior and were jammed in the cassette player. It was the type of music that could be constituted as the foulest and cruellest form of torture that even the most sadistic demons would not use - sugary sweet pop. Damn it she should have been doused with Holy Water and left to slowly burn to dust for what she had done to his car.
Lighting a cigarette Spike shifted slightly and watched as Willow walked down the path a frown marring her face.
When he'd first bought the car back Giles had complained about the "ugly piece of Americana" but he accepted it. Somehow Spike became Willow's personal chauffer, for months he would pick her up from her dorm and take her wherever she needed to go before driving her back. It was something that Willow greatly appreciated. Gratitude she displayed one day when she "stole" the Desoto. When Spike discovered the car missing it drove him to a fit of rage that he took out on any and every demon he could find - the rage continued for a week. One evening he walked out to find it parked, the body had been repaired and resprayed and the once scratchy black paint covered windows had been replaced with black tinted ones. The interior had also been refurbished with cherry red leather that was soft and supple. But the thing that he adored and truly appreciated the most was a six stack CD with eight speakers wired through the car. Although nothing was ever said he knew it had to be Willow's work, she was the only one in the little group that he really associated with. The rest put up with him. Sure he and Giles had necessarily bonded through their living conditions however had Spike said he wanted to live in the Desoto he was sure that Giles would have been deliriously happy. It was Willow who spent hours chatting to him, although at first he had teased her and tried to discourage her - it didn't work. She'd chat, he'd listen, one day he started to talk back and the next thing he knew he was looking forward to seeing her. Damn. He'd look forward to seeing her smile, hearing her voice, her soft giggle. They became the terrible twosome, as thick as thieves, everyone else in the group was paired up so it was natural for them to fall in together but Spike would never really admit to how much Willow had grown on him. For months they lived in each other's pocket always together doing their parts in the fight against evil.
Willow opened the passenger door and sat down. Fastening her seatbelt she crossed her arms on her chest and stared straight ahead.
"Let's go then pet," Spike said turning over the motor.
Of course that was before the wolf's return. After that she had stopped laughing, stopped giggling, stopped smiling and eventually stopped talking. She wasn't happy and Spike hated it. When she had asked his honest opinion about getting back with Oz he had been blunt and said she would be a fool. He really had to work on his tact.
"So," Spike let the word roll around in the silence that had settled in the car for the last ten minutes. "How's the wolf?"
"Oz is fine," replied Willow, still staring out the window.
"You know," Spike lit up a cigarette. "If he isn't meeting your needs you really should say something to him."
"Wah...what?" she looked at him incredulously. "What are you talking about?"
"Well tonight's little performance in the van obviously left you unsatisfied," Spike took a long drag on the cigarette and shot the disgruntled redhead a quick look. "I mean look at you - you're crawling out of your skin with need, wound up so tight you're about to go crazy."
"I am not going to discuss this with you..." Willow shook her head in disgust. She had been horrified when she realised that he had been listening to them. "God it's none of your business anyway. I can't believe you...you...you...well I can't believe you did it - you listened while we had...you know what I mean."
"What? I only caught your non-Oscar winning performance." Spike smirked before starting to imitate the sounds she had been making, his face twisting in a mock of passion. Willow stared at him before turning bright red as she realised what he was talking about.
"I am not having this conversation with you." Stated Willow turning away from the still moaning vampire.
"It's only going to get worse you know. You have to tell him - do you want to go through life unsatisfied?" he sobered up, part of him enjoyed making her squirm and blush, but part of him wanted to shake some sense into her, and all of those parts just wanted to see her smile again. "I mean you're a passionate young women and you deserve better than that."
"I am not having this conversation with you." She repeated, keeping her gaze fixed on the passenger window, vowing to herself if he said sex she would just die.
"Sex is an important part of a relationship," Spike took another drag on his cigarette.
"I am not having this conversation with you." Willow groaned and sank down in the seat, bringing a hand up to cover her face - he'd said sex. Spike exhaled the smoke and continued.
"Can I ask you a question?" Without waiting for her reply he asked anyway. "Have you ever had an orgasm with him?"
"I am NOT having this conversation with you." Willow stated once more, her face turning an intense shade of red. Spike looked at her and opened his mouth to say something. "NO! No more, it isn't any of your business and I am not having this conversation with you. Not now not ever."
To reinforce that fact she leant forward and turned up the stereo that made further conversation impossible. Spike continued to smoke his cigarette.
***
Spike looked up at the familiar door of the agency. He didn't want to go in there and face his sire, but he didn't have a choice. As they had walked from the car, parked some five blocks away, he had tried to talk Willow into blowing off their responsibilities and hit the LA nightclubs. She had answered him by glaring her disapproval. Stubbing out his cigarette he followed Willow's lithe figure through the door.
"Willow!" Angel exclaimed as he saw her. He moved forward to envelop the redhead in a hug, scowling at Spike over her head.
"Angel," she pulled back from his arms to smile at the dark haired vampire. "You're looking well. Actually, er, you look like you usually do...but I haven't seen you for so long, you don't look any different but it so good to see you...you know not in a pile of ashes...so I guess saying you look well is the right thing to say even though you are a vampire and literally dead..."
"It's nice to see you again Willow," said Angel breaking through her gibberish. Spike still hadn't moved from the doorway, his face plastered with a mixture of boredom and hatred.
"So, you have a laptop that is presenting problems?" asked Willow. Angel nodded and led her to a desk. "Well we are here to pick it up."
"Didn't Giles tell you?"
"Tell us what, peaches?" Spike finally spoke moving to stand a few feet from the desk they were at.
"I'm hoping that there may be some information on a Grestal, a demon we are currently involved with. I need anything you can find on it. That's how we got the computer in the first place - there were all sorts of whispers about it." Angel said as Willow sat down in front of the small computer. "If you could find any information and leave a hard copy of whatever you come across I'd be grateful."
"Well that shouldn't be too hard. I'll do a file search regarding the demons name and just work on opening those files. The rest can wait until we get back to Sunnydale...unless you need anything else?" asked Willow.
"No, no, just those files. Look I have to go, make yourself at home," he said to Willow, immediately dismissing Spike. "If the phone rings the machine can get it. I'm not sure when I'll be back - if you finish and want to head off just pull the door shut behind you."
"Oh, okay," Willow had been hoping to catch up with him a bit more, but it was obvious that he was busy. "Well, I'll do what I can."
"Thanks Willow," said Angel with a half smile as he stood up. Walking away from the desk he frowned at Spike before dropping his voice so that Willow couldn't hear him. "Stay with her, anything happens and I'll let the crack of dawn kiss your ass goodbye."
"Yeah, love you too peaches." Spike replied a cold sarcasm creeping into his voice as he watched his sire walk out the door. He looked around the dingy little office and let out a sigh of boredom. Willow was already busy with the laptop, her fingers clicking across the keys a look of concentration on her face. "So how long is this going to take?"
"Hopefully not long - especially if you don't interrupt by asking me questions every five minutes," said Willow not taking her eyes from the small screen. Spike mimicked her silently, his face twisting in imitation before he sat down at the desk usually occupied by Cordy. Being bored he did the only thing possible - he started to rummage through her drawers. Willow glanced up. "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like?"
Willow closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep calming breath. "Aren't you hungry or something? I'm sure Angel won't mind if you help yourself."
"Fine," Spike pushed himself away from Cordy's desk and headed into the apartment. He didn't care to go heat some blood and feed, he'd rather snoop around Angel's abode - see if he could find anything interesting. He did. Some fifteen minutes later he re-emerged with a mug of warm blood, a wicked grin and a plan. He sat down in a chair opposite Willow. "Finished yet?"
Willow had her elbows resting on the desk, her face buried in her hands, thumbs rubbing at her temple.
"I have the few files that Angel wanted," she murmured. "Each file seems to have a different password, it's going to take ages."
"How long is 'ages'?" Spike asked carefully placing his full mug of blood on the desk.
"At least a few days," Willow removed her head from her hands and began to close down the computer. Spike watched in silence until it was safely packed away and Willow had resumed her seat.
"We should go then," he suggested. Willow nodded.
"No point hanging around, I'll write Angel a note." Willow said. Spike watched her carefully, smirking at the childish happy face she stuck on the bottom of the note. Standing up he looked from Willow to the mug of blood and back to Willow. Slowly he moved his hand to the mug and struck it, sending it flying into Willow's lap and spilling the contents all down her front. She jumped up out of the chair.
"SPIKE!" she screamed at him, pulling her bloodied top away from her body. "Great, just fantastic. You did that on purpose!"
"Me? Waste good pigs blood? Not likely. It was an accident." Spike feigned innocence as he took hold of her hand and led her into Angel's apartment. "Come on you can borrow something...I think leather would suit you."
Willow was about to protest when she felt the blood leaking through to her underwear, making her squirm. <Oh, this is so revolting! I am going to kill him.> She narrowed her eyes in suspicion as she saw a pair of leather pants and a black silk shirt laid out on the bed.
"You planned this!" she accused.
"Come on, pet. I am not wasting a night in LA. Either get changed or I'll do it for you." Spike said, not denying his plan.
"I am not wearing that," she said through clenched teeth. Spike turned to face her.
"Well you can go naked if you want. Those," he stated, pointing to the pants and shirt. "Are the only thing the great poof has that would go close to fitting you."
"These aren't Angel's, they're too small," curiosity had gotten the better of Willow as she hesitatingly picked up the pants. It was either curiosity or the revolting sensation of have warm blood saturating her knickers.
"They're mine. Angel must have packed them by mistake," Spike spoke softly. Willow looked at him, she had never seen him wear anything but black jeans, and she raised an eyebrow in question. Spike fingered the soft leather. "Angelus liked his toys in leather. Hurry up and change."
Willow looked at the blonde vampire thoughtfully. He rarely spoke of the past, especially of Angel, or of Angelus. Looking back at the pants she sighed, the blood was getting to her, the fact that she had only been able to open a few files was also annoying her. Everything about her life was frustrating at the moment. Maybe Spike was right, why waste a night in LA? Picking up the pants and shirt she headed off to the bathroom.
Spike watched as she walked away and grinned. He lost the grin some 10 minutes later as he could hear Willow's soft muffled curses coming from the bathroom.
"What are you doing in there pet?" Spike asked from the other side of the door as he tried to work out what exactly she was saying.
"You are too skinny!" she hissed at him through the door. "They don't fit."
"Come out and let me see," Spike said leaning back against the wall.
"No, I can't get them done up."
"Willow just get out here now," Spike demanded. After a moments hesitation the bathroom door opened and Willow shuffled out. The leather pants were slightly too long for her and bunched around her ankles. The silk shirt hung down loose, nearly to her knees - there was no mistaking that it was Angel's shirt.
"They don't fit," she said sadly. Her hand was buried under the shirt and Spike guessed she was holding the waistband together.
"Well let me see," he started to pull the shirt up causing Willow to squeak and try to slap his hands away.
"Get your stupid hands off me!" she screeched at him backing away and slamming into the doorframe. Her hands reached for the back of her head. "Ouch."
Before she realised what was happening Spike had grabbed the shirt and tugged lightly, the buttons popped open and she felt his arms wrap around her.
"Okay, shirts fixed," he stated tying a double knot in the ends just below her breasts. His hands went to the button fly of the pants and delved into the leather, his eyebrows shot up and he smirked as he realised she wasn't wearing any underwear. Trying not to think about Willow sans underwear he pulled the leather together and twisted the buttons through the eyelets. Once the pants were done up he took a step back and looked at her thoughtfully. "Squat."
"What?" she asked, still holding the back of her head while looking down at herself. Spike had undone every single button on the shirt and then wrapped it around her ribs twice before tying it so that her midriff was bare. She had no idea what he meant by the command squat.
"Squat down, the leather will stretch a little," he looked at her confused eyes. "You'll feel more comfortable."
"Oh," she said squatting down and wriggling a few times. It did feel more comfortable.
"That's enough love, let's go," he grabbed her hand, led her to the office to pick up the laptop and dragged her out into the night.