What This Is
“You…and Angel?” Willow’s voice was slurred slightly, a predictable effect of the alcohol she’d consumed – at Spike’s instigation.
“Don’t act so surprised, pet. Not like I’m the only person in this basement who’s played for both teams.” He watched as she thought that over.
“But what? Dogboy meant nothin’ to ya? He was just an experiment before you joined the pink team?”
“No, it’s just…” He could see she couldn’t come up with a good answer to that and he wasn’t gonna blame that on the alcohol. She wouldn’t have been able to explain her reasoning sober.
“Just what? You woke up one morning and boys were off the menu for good?”
While she mulled that question, Spike pulled his shirt over his head, making a good case for the male of the species. He could tell it was working by the change in Willow’s scent.
“What are you doing?” Her voice was just a bit too high and Spike suppressed a smirk.
“I’m gettin’ comfortable. Can’t think why you’d mind, seein’ as how you don’t fancy us men anymore.”
“I don’t. It’s just…”
“I should go.” She got to her feet unsteadily, but then her knees gave out and…
Spike caught her in the nick of time. “Whoa there. Don’t think you should be goin’ anywhere right now.”
The warmth of her in his arms began to change the game. Sure, this was supposed to be just a bit of flirting, a bit of fun, no actual contact, but…
He pulled her close and kissed her; she kissed him back. It started out – well however it started, it ended up as heat and need and passion and…real. Too real. Her eyes were clear and knowing when the kiss ended. “I’m not Buffy.”
He chuckled lightly but without mirth and he didn’t let go. “I know that. And I’m not Tara.”
The faint shine of tears she would never let fall appeared and then faded – magic or willpower? “I know that, too.”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t…” ‘Can’t what?’ he thought. Shag? Make love? What the hell was he suggesting?
“No, it doesn’t,” she answered. She knew what he meant, maybe better than he did.
She pulled his head down to hers and they kissed again. It was still too real. But the next piece of clothing that came off was hers. Whatever it was they were doing…well, he’d worry about what to call it later.