Adult-FanFiction.org : Buffy

Pain Power Passion	By : purplefeen Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > Het - Male/Female > Spike(William)/Willow > Spike(William)/Willow Views: 3240 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters and locations belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. I do not own them and I am making no money off of them. I'm just letting them play in my playground.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
author's note: Apologies right now for the complete rewrite of Professor Walsh - she is not who she was in the series; she is just a somewhat stern professor, not the head of a government agency in this story. She also seems to have grown a heart. Who knew?

The next day

Buffy sat in class, jotting on a steno pad. ‘Where were you last night?’ she wrote, while subconsciously pulling the hem of her short skirt down just a little. Willow had been telling her that the TA Riley Finn watched her continuously through PSY105 and Buffy didn’t want to encourage him.
"No way, Will. He’s such a geek," Buffy had objected.
"Hey, I resemble that remark," Willow had countered, good-naturedly. Then she had grinned and teased, "Besides, we geeks will surprise you. We have all that time not dating to sit around and contemplate exactly what we would do on a date if we ever got one. We’re not stupid, you know, just – geeky. Ask any geek, we’ve all spent enough time waiting to date that by the time we do get one, we’ve thought up all kinds of delicious ways to make sure it won’t be our last." Buffy had just stared at Willow, shocked, but Willow just giggled and raised her eyebrows twice in a pseudo-suggestive manner.
Buffy had to laugh. "Okay, Will, whatever you say. But if that’s true, I want WAY more detail on your dates with Oz."
That had been last Sunday.
Right now, Professor Walsh was pacing the front of the lecture hall, going over exactly what she expected from the first research paper of the semester. " – will be rejected and you will receive a zero, making it impossible for you to pass this course. Facts only, people, I don’t want your opinions," she continued as Willow looked over at the steno pad.
Buffy had underlined her question, Where were you last night?
Keeping one eye on the professor, Willow wrote ‘studying’ under Buffy’s question and motioned with her finger held up to her lips for Buffy to be quiet so Willow wouldn’t miss any of the details of their assignment.
‘Til 4 AM?’ Buffy wrote, ignoring Willow’s protests. Buffy subconsciously pulled on the hem of her short blue skirt again.
Willow was tired of the inquisition. ‘If u don’t want him to look at u, y do u keep wearing short skirts to class?’ Willow wrote back.
‘Don’t change the subject. 4 AM?’ Buffy wrote, underlining the 4.
Willow looked down in time to catch Riley ogling Buffy’s legs, then he quickly turned toward Professor Walsh, blushing a deep red. Buffy must have caught him looking, too. Willow had already told him that she had seen him staring at Buffy and encouraged him to continue his pursuit, offering to help in any way she could. ‘He is kind of cute’ Willow wrote. ‘And remember what I said about geeks trying harder?’ she wrote and tried not to laugh. It didn’t work. Professor Walsh stopped in the middle of a sentence and inquired, "Is Ms. Summers so entertaining that you feel you can neglect hearing the details on this assignment, Ms. Rosenberg?"
When Xander asked her later if Buffy was telling the truth, Willow lied and vehemently denied saying what she had, in truth, said to Prof. Walsh, "As a matter of fact, she is," and the class laughed out loud.
"Okay then," the instructor hesitated, then added, "the rest of you can go, that’s it for today. Papers are due three weeks from Friday. Ms. Rosenberg?" Prof. Walsh leaned her hip against her desk and looked up at Willow, waiting. Willow cleared her throat several times, gathered her books and slowly descended to the front of the class as the rest of the students filed out into the hall.
"Ms. Rosenberg, have you been sleeping well? You seem a little distracted today." The teacher known as ‘The Evil Bitch Monster of Death’ seemed genuinely concerned.
‘Oh, thank the goddess, she’s not yelling at me,’ Willow thought, before she insisted, "No, Prof. Walsh, I heard every word you said. I wrote most of it down, do you want to see my notes?" She started to pull out her notebook, but the other woman reached out and stopped her.
"No, Ms. Rosenberg, that won’t be necessary." She didn’t sound harsh or impatient, just matter-of-fact. "You’re in college now; you’re a grown woman. What you write or don’t write in my class is completely up to you. You’ve already proven that you are more than capable of mastering this material. And you weren’t really disruptive enough to disturb the other students, with the exception of Ms. Summers, that is. But that outburst at the end of class seemed completely out of character for you, or am I mistaken?" she asked.
Willow was thrilled that the teacher she admired so much had thought about her at all. "No, Prof. Walsh, you weren’t mistaken; I really am an extremely serious student. I’m not actually like that," she said earnestly, then added lightheartedly and with a smile, "Except when I am." She was remembering last night and how bold she had been when talking to Spike.
The older woman smiled, finally understanding. "So it’s like that, is it? Who is it? The young man with the strange hair that seems to change color every week? First red, then blue, I think it was purple yesterday."
"Who, Oz? No, it’s – YES, it’s Oz. All Oz, only Oz." Then Willow’s cheerfulness faded and she whispered, more to herself than the teacher, "It could never be anything with – anybody else."
But Professor Walsh had not gotten to the top of her field by taking everything everyone said as the literal truth. That and the girl was a terrible liar. "I think I understand, Willow. But before you go getting yourself into something more than just – whatever you have, friendship? – with this other man, my advice would be to be straight with the first gentleman - Oz, you said his name is? Nothing worthy comes from something that starts in deception."
"But you don’t understand, Professor Walsh, I –"
"Please, call me Maggie; it’s after class. What wouldn’t I understand?" She smiled indulgently. She had once been young(er) and she remembered having to make difficult decisions about love.
Willow looked very uneasy, "Um, okay, um - Maggie." ‘What was the question – oh, right.’ "There is no – okay, there is another guy, but he’s not really a guy, he’s - - he’s, um – "
"A grapefruit?" joked Maggie, trying to put the girl at ease.
"No," Willow grinned. "He’s, um, older – a LOT older. And I don’t think he wants a girlfriend. I mean, he had a girlfriend. He was with her for years and years, very long term. He was despondent when she left him. But he seems okay now," she went on, talking thoughtfully, thinking about what she had just said. "He seems very over it now. I wonder why that is?" She hadn’t meant to say that last sentence out loud.
"Maybe he is over it. Maybe he’s ready for someone new. Has he indicated – "
"NO!" Willow interrupted, much too loudly. "I mean, I am definitely - definitely NOT his type. Drusilla was – beautiful. Crazy, but beautiful. And she was way more –" She sought frantically for a word. ‘What can I say – kinky? deranged? into bondage? dominatrix-y? NO!’
"Way more - worldly, than me," she finally said. "She’s been everywhere, done everything. She – knew things." Willow couldn’t figure out a good way to explain this. She tried again, "All kinds of things. About – stuff, and other – stuff, that I won’t ever know. Wouldn’t want to know. Ya know?" she asked, her eyes begging the woman not to ask for details.
"I think I have an idea, yes. But that doesn’t mean your friend wants another woman like this - Drusilla, did you say?" Willow nodded. "What an unusual name. If you’d like the advice of someone whose been there a time or two –‘ she asked. Willow doubted Professor – Maggie – had ever been in love with a vampire, but she nodded anyway, hoping at the least, for some crumb of wisdom she could apply to this situation.
"I wouldn’t assume anything about what your friend is looking for in a relationship. Do you know what kind of woman he was attracted to before Drusilla? Maybe she wasn’t his type but he fell in love with her anyway. Maybe she was his type but, if your description of her is accurate, maybe he’s looking for something very different this time around. I think I would be if I had been involved with someone as – what words did you use – crazy? and worldly? – as that. I think I’d want someone very different if wanted to fall in love again and make it work. Maybe he knows better now."
Maggie spoke more gently now, hoping to encourage the girl without getting her hopes too high. After all, this guy might be a nutcase, or into things too intense for Willow to be comfortable with. "In the meantime," and here she looked at Willow pointedly, making sure the younger woman grasped what she was trying to say, "I’d try to be a good companion. A compassionate listener, a trustworthy friend. Maybe nothing romantic will come of it. But maybe it will. Or maybe you’ll come out of this with a good friend if not a lover. Would that be so bad?"
Since Willow knew there wasn’t a chance in hell of Spike ever wanting her as a lover, she decided to play along. "You’re right. I’ll just go with it and see what happens. I just never considered being Spike’s friend before. I mean, he’s Spike! But, you never know. A friend – hmm? I’ll have to think about that."
Maggie was chuckling. "Spike? Your friend’s name is Spike," Maggie couldn’t help laughing. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh, but – his name is really Spike?" She was almost falling off the desk.
"Yeah, I know," Willow was snickering. "Actually, his real name is William." she tried to say without laughing. It didn’t work. Both women looked at each other and doubled over, laughing hysterically.
Buffy and Riley Finn, who had been waiting out in the hall for their friends and gotten absorbed in a conversation where they found they had an amazing amount in common, saw this through the window of the classroom door and barged in, both thinking their respective friends had been replaced by pod people.

Willow was getting her books together after dinner that evening and was about to open the dorm room door when it opened abruptly from the other side and smacked her in the forehead. She shrieked and fell back onto her bed, dropping the backpack, as Buffy strode into the room, oblivious to what she had just done. "Oh, good, you’re here. I wanted to ask you – why are you holding your head like that?"
"That’s what you wanted to ask me? Why I’m holding my head like this?" Willow asked her friend, sarcasm dripping from each word.
"No, but – then I saw you and, hey – had to ask."
Willow realized it was futile being upset at Buffy because, well, she was Buffy, so you just couldn’t stay upset at her. "You hit me with the door when you came in," Willow answered, sitting up on the bed and dropping her hand. "It’s okay."
"Oh, sorry."
"I wanted to ask you what was so funny today after Psych. I couldn’t believe it when I saw you and Professor Walsh laughing like that. Then you hurried off to your next class and I haven’t seen you all day. So, what gives?" Buffy had moved over and sat down with a plop onto Willow’s bed and brought her legs up and folded them under each other. She was looking up expectantly.
"It’s one of those things you just had to be there for. It wasn’t really that funny," but Willow started to giggle anyway, then caught herself and stopped. "Maggie was just asking – "
Buffy interrupted, eyes wide, astonished. "MAGGIE! Did you just say Maggie? As in Professor Margaret Walsh, Evil Bitch Monster of Death. THAT MAGGIE?" Buffy was still astounded.
Willow spoke up to defend her new friend. "She’s not that bad. She’s really nice actually. In a teacher-y kind of way. She was really concerned about me. And, oh, she said I was doing really well so far. She said I could master this class. Isn’t that cool?"
"Mastering psych? No, that’s not cool. It’s good, but it’s not cool. Cool is mastering the guitar, or looking hot in leather pants. Cool has nothing to do with psych class."
"But it is good, so I’m good, but not cool. That’s okay. I can live with that."
"Will, you are very cool. Much coolness on you. Just not in that outfit." Buffy had just noticed that Willow was wearing denim overalls and that dreadful fuzzy Muppet-like red sweater.
"What? You don’t like this? But – but - these are really comfortable. And Xander once told me he thought this sweater was so cute." Willow seemed a little crestfallen.
"It is cute. If you’re 5. Seriously, Will, we have got to go shopping for some new togs for you."
Willow brightened. "Can we get me some leather pants? Black ones?" she asked eagerly.
Buffy thought she was kidding. She knew that Willow would never wear leather pants. She chuckled and said, "Sure, Will. Whatever you want. But I want to go with you. Left to yourself, your fashion sense has been – what’s the word?"
Willow smiled. "Colorful?"
"Yeah, a little too colorful. By the time I’m done, you’ll be coolness itself." Willow seemed pleased but Buffy felt compelled to add, "Not that you’re not cool now. We’ll just make you more cool – and very hot." She added with a gleam in her eye.
Willow’s eyes were gleaming for a different reason. She whispered, "Yeah – and hot." Louder, she said, "Very cool."
"So, what’s on the agenda for tonight?" Buffy asked. "Giles call with a new apocalypse? Library beckoning? Xander want to go Bronzing?" Buffy tapped Willow on the leg. "Oz keeping you out ‘til four in the morning?", she asked slyly.
"How many times do I have to say it? I was not out with Oz last night." Willow sounded exasperated. "I was studying and I fell asleep in the library. It’s open 24/7 so nobody comes to wake you up at closing time – ‘cause, open 24 hours. Hence, no closing." Willow was trying desperately to get Buffy to accept this explanation.
‘Hopefully, I’ll be able to use it again next time. If there is a next time.’
Buffy seemed to buy it. "Okay, okay. I know you’re all down with the academia. Sorry. It’s just that you’re so, well – good, all the time. I never get the chance to tease you. You’re just too perfect. Face it. You’re Ms. Perfect Rosenberg. 100% cheerful goodness!" Buffy said happily.
"BUFFY!" Willow was indignant. "How could you say that? PERFECT! I am NOT perfect. And I’m definitely not GOOD. At least not all the time." Willow was livid. "I have bad, bad - stuff – in here.” She was motioning to her whole body and then her head. |I have bad thoughts. Well, not nice ones anyway. And just because I seem cheerful all the time doesn’t mean I am."
Willow had stood up and was pacing around and around while she let loose. "I have stuff that bothers me. I just don’t choose to vent every little thing that’s on my mind like you and Xander do. And don’t get me started on Giles. Giles – AH!" She started pulling on her hair, then dropped it and started ranting again. "I don’t want to be perfect. I want to be - not good – sometimes. Okay, yeah," Willow stopped and stood in front of a gaping Buffy, punctuating each sentence with arm movements. "I want to be bad sometimes. Really bad. And I know what you’re thinking ‘Little Willow, she thinks pulling the tags off her pillows is bad." At Buffy’s look, she admitted, "Okay, so I DO think pulling the tags off my pillows is bad, but that’s not the bad I’m talking about here." She started pacing in a circle again and started muttering, more to herself than Buffy, "I have bad thoughts. I want bad things. Lots of bad things. I want a computer to fall on Giles’ ugly little car. I want Xander to fall in love with a vengeance demon who’s spent the last thousand years avenging wronged women. I’ll bet Cordy wants that too. I want my parents to be locked in a cage in our basement and be forced to spend months at a time with me – or better yet – with a group of misbehaving six-year-olds. No, my parents are too much like six-year-olds themselves. That would work out too well. But you know what I mean!" She threw this last statement at Buffy with an angry look.
Buffy, dumb-stuck, just nodded, too shocked to say anything.
"I want - I want - what do I want?" She suddenly stopped, and very deliberately stepped in front of Buffy and leaned down, putting her face only a few inches from Buffy’s. Then she smiled – not a Willow smile. An evil Grinch-like smile. And very clearly enunciated what she wanted.
"I want Spike."
And then she left. Calmly walked out. Leaving Buffy staring at the space where Willow had lost her mind.
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Pain Power Passion