Rating: NC-17- sexual content
Disclaimer: characters all belong to the wonderful Joss
Summary: A present from Buffy causes Willow to make a revelation about her childhood and Spike to do something he never thought he'd do.
Inspired by the art work of the wonderful Sheppsboy please check out the link below for some sexy Spike time
A Visit From Santa
The present that started it all was sitting on the coffee table all neatly wrapped in thick creamy paper with Merry Christmas scrawled across it in gold lettering that glinted in the light from the fire. There was a tag attached to it in the shape of a Christmas tree, that too was gold and read: To Willow, Merry Christmas, Lots of Love, Buffy xxx
He had caught her sitting by the fire her knees drawn up to her chest staring at the present with a thoughtful look on her face. The conversation that had followed had led to him do something that Spike still couldn’t quite get his head around; although he wasn’t complaining about the outcome.
The orange flames in the grate danced and flickered at her back turning her hair a deep red like fine wine or rich blood. She had her knees drawn up to her chest and her fingers clasped together around her shins her eyes fixed on the present he knew was from the slayer.
“Penny for ‘em love?”
Willow lifted her thin shoulders in a shrug. “I’m not sure they’d be worth that much.”
Spike grinned and took a sip of his blood. “That’s good, not sure I ‘ave that much to spare anyway.”
She smiled and looked up at him standing there in the doorway. “I’m not sure what I am,” Willow admitted after a moment’s silence. “I mean, growing up I was Jewish, but I don’t practice any of the Jewish customs anymore and could I still call myself Jewish if I practice magic? Shouldn’t magic and religion cancel themselves out? Shouldn’t God be the only one who can wield that kind of power?”
“You mean only God should be able to float a pencil?”
He was teasing and it had the desired effect of making her smile again. “Oh I don’t know what I mean,” Willow sighed. “It’s just that I’ve never done the Christmas thing before, Xander and Buffy never bought me Christmas gifts before so why has she done it this year?”
“Well,” Spike took a seat in the arm chair and stretched out his long legs scratching absently at his stomach. “I guess you could spend days thinkin’ ‘bout it or save yourself the trouble an’ just ask her.”
“I can’t do that!” Willow exclaimed as though he had just suggested that she burn Buffy’s Christmas tree to a crisp. “It would hurt her feelings, she’d think I was being ungrateful, and I’m not,” she insisted. “I just wondered.”
Spike let out a long heavy sigh to let her know just what he thought about matters without actually having to say anything. He took another sip of blood and thought about how lovely she looked with her skin glowing in the light of the fire. She had that pale –calm-surface -hiding-a-passionate-nature-beneath thing going, an aspect of her Spike had always found extremely seductive
“You had Santa when you were little, didn’t you, Spike?”
“Well of course I did,” he replied indignantly. “Just how old do you think I am?”
Willow giggled and pressed her lips together to suppress any further laughter. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you were ancient or anything.”
She fell silent after that and just looked at him with cloudy green eyes. She did that sometimes, not as much as she used to when they first started their relationship, but she still did it. It had unnerved him a little at first, not that Spike didn’t like the appreciative look in her eyes when she gazed at him, but he wasn’t sure just what it was she was expecting him to say or do. Spike had finally come to the realisation that Willow wasn’t expecting him to do or say anything; she simply liked to look at him, it was exhilarating, arousing and touching all at the same time.
Spike still didn’t know all these years later, that when Willow had first seen him she'd stared, momentarily disoriented, thinking that her fantasy man had suddenly appeared in the street outside The Bronze. Spike was like no man she had ever clapped eyes on before and even though he was a vampire, a demon, evil, she couldn’t help the teeniest crush she’d had, he was breath taking to look at.
“Do you mind being a vampire?”
The question came right out of left field and Spike was nonplussed for a minute or two. “No, not really. I like it.” Being a vampire was sure as hell better than being a pansy arsed spineless, pathetic human as he had once been. Willow didn’t need to know that though.
“I suppose being different isn’t as hard when your older,” she mused. “I don’t mind so much now and I guess I didn’t mind so much in high school either.”
Spike pursed his lips and fixed her with a raised eyebrow. “You gonna explain that a bit more, pet?”
“When I was very little I didn’t completely understand why Santa never came to my house. I was always good, better than Xander and Jessie any way, and they always had loads of presents when I never had any. Oh I’d have a present or two off them, but it wasn’t the same and no matter how many times my mother told me that Santa wasn’t real I didn’t quite believe her. Everybody else said he was, Xander and Jessie had presents from him and went to see him and have a photo with him at the store; how could all those people be wrong and only my mother be right? It’s hard for a child to be different even if it’s only in a small way.”
“You never had Santa?” Spike hadn’t thought about it before, it had been over a hundred years since he had been human and celebrated Christmas. It stung he realised as he looked at her lovely face half shadowed by the fire; that his girl had been hurt and missed out on the magic of childhood. He saw no reason why a little girl couldn’t have her photograph with Santa.
“No, Santa is part of Christmas, Jews don’t celebrate Christmas, do they.”
“Guess not,” he agreed.
A knock on the front door brought the conversation to a close as Willow glanced up at the clock on the mantel piece above her. “Oh, that’ll be Buffy.”
“Wonderful,” Spike muttered downing the remaining dregs of blood at the bottom of the mug.
Willow pattered into the hallway and opened the door. “Hi, Buff.”
“Hey, Wills, it’s cold out tonight,” Buffy said stepping over the threshold pulling her hat from her head. She shook out her long blonde hair before tucking it behind her ear. “All ready for a night of festive fun?” she grinned.
“Can’t wait,” Willow said with a sigh. “I blame Xander. He just didn’t want to get stuck doing it all on his own with Anya yelling at him every five minutes for doing it wrong.” Anya had somehow managed to rope them all into helping take inventory at The Magic Box tonight.
“This is true, this is very true,” Buffy agreed and laughed. Her laughter died away when Spike came into the hallway, she shifted awkwardly watching him as he took his leather duster out of the cupboard beneath the stairs. He looked so totally at home here that it never failed to throw Buffy through a loop. “When do your parents get here?” Buffy took a little satisfaction in the sudden tightening of Spike’s shoulders. It was hard seeing him living with her best friend, he might have a chip but he was still a vampire, still evil and she still couldn’t trust him; it terrified her that Spike was the one person in the world who could hurt Willow beyond endurance.
“They don’t,” Willow said smiling at Spike as he held her coat for her to slide her arms into the sleeves. “I spoke to dad yesterday, they’ve been invited to a friend’s house in Paris and wanted to know if I’d like to go along but I said I’d rather stay here and I’d see them in the New Year.”
Buffy’s forehead ruffled as she watched Spike settle Willow’s coat on her shoulders and murmured to her to do it up. He was different with Willow just as he was different with Dawn, it was difficult to get her head around it but Buffy had to admit that Spike seemed like a totally different person when he was with Willow. She hadn’t seen it before, he had been careful to keep up his Big Bad persona with the rest of them, but he let his guard down here in his home, and as much as it worried her, Buffy had to admit that this was Spike’s home now.
“Did you tell him that Spike’s living here?”
“Oh sure, Buffy,” Willow said dryly. “For Hanukah I decided to give my father a stroke.”
Buffy grinned and jammed her hat back on. “Probably best to wait until they get home and do it face to face.”
“And maybe not even then,” Willow said biting her lower lip worriedly.
Buffy rolled her eyes and checked her reflection in the mirror. “I know he’ll be a shock and everything but….”
“Hey!” Spike interrupted indignantly. “Just what do you mean by that, slayer?”
Buffy turned and gave him a long pointed look. “You’re hardly parent material, Spike and I’m not talking about you being a vampire.”
Spike scowled viciously at her and Buffy smiled sweetly in return.
Willow let out a puff of air and took up the house keys from the bowl beside the door. “Shall we get going?”
“Patrol awaits, as does Anya,” Buffy said cheerily and led the way out the door. “We’ll drop you off first ok, Willow?”
“Yes, alright.” Willow slipped her hand into Spike’s and fell into step beside him giving him a smile.
Buffy had to turn away from them. She rubbed at the pain in her chest and took a steadying breath; when Willow smiled at Spike her entire face transformed as though an inner light were shining through her for him and him alone. It was a special thing that light, a once in a life time thing, and it hurt; it dragged at Buffy’s heart knowing that she had once looked at a vampire that way and would never have the chance to do so again. Her inner light had been extinguished for good when Angel had left Sunnydale and it would never light again. Buffy couldn’t bare it if Willow had to go through the same thing.
She had survived the loss of Oz and Buffy now believed that was because Willow had not looked at Oz the way she did Spike. Oh Willow had loved Oz, Buffy was in no doubt about that, just as she herself had loved Riley; but the two loves didn’t compare. Buffy knew in her heart of hearts that no matter what she did or who she met or where she went, for her there would only ever be Angel and for Willow there would only ever be Spike.
Willow had her vampire and Buffy couldn’t help the tiny spark of jealousy she felt over that.
They dropped Willow off at The Magic Box and Buffy kept her eyes averted when Willow kissed
Spike goodbye. It didn’t get any easier seeing them together, everything about them reminded Buffy of her and Angel, just without the tragedy.
“Bye,” Willow called out and pressed one last quick kiss to Spike’s cheek before darting into the shop, the bells above the door tinkling, heralding her arrival.
“You can make sure she gets home alright tonight, can’t you slayer?”
Buffy looked surprised at the request. “Of course. Why? Where are you going to be?”
“Surprise,” he said mysteriously.
She regarded him suspiciously. “What sort of a surprise?”
“A surprise for Willow. You wouldn’t deny her that just because you can’t have the vampire you want, would you?” Spike asked snidely.
Buffy flushed, humiliated at being read so well by Spike of all people. “I wouldn’t deny Willow anything that makes her happy!” she snapped irritably. “You’re still walking around aren’t you?”
Spike chuckled and pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket. “You’re all heart, aren’t you slayer?”
Buffy scowled and stomped off wishing Willow would have chosen anyone to love other than the most annoying vampire in the world!
Willow said goodnight to Buffy and closed the door behind her. She really wanted to hurt Anya. She was a complete slave driver and bossy as they came. When Buffy had complained about that Anya had sniffed and looked slightly confused telling them that Xander liked that about her. That had been enough to have Willow, Dawn, Buffy and Xander yelling at her not to say another word.
“Like I needed that in my head,” Willow muttered kicking off her shoes and shrugging off her coat. She was just about to put it away when the flickering of light from the living room caught her eye. She knew that Spike would have put out the fire before they left earlier so that could only mean one thing. Willow smiled and gave a little wiggle. “Spike!”
Throwing the coat over the banister she made her way into the living room in search of him. She had been disappointed when Buffy told her that Spike wasn’t meeting her to walk her home, not that Willow minded spending time with Buffy but she had been looking forward to seeing Spike after such a grueling night of work.
Patrolling was easier!
“Spike are you here?” Willow stopped in her tracks her eyes widening when she saw him lounging in front of the fire in a pair of red boxer shorts, a red robe open to reveal his bare chest and a Santa hat on his head. “You are here,” she breathed and swallowed past her dry throat.
Titling a glass of wine towards her in a toast he said, “An evening for two, just Santa and you.”
Willow laughed and shook her head. “That’s one extra special Santa, Spike.”
“You’re one extra special girl,” he replied quietly, his eyes latching on to her face so intently that she flushed.
“Spike,” she smiled and spread out her hands. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“Oh right,” he gave her a long knowing look. “I’ll go get dressed then, shall I?”
“Don’t you dare!”
He laughed lightly. “Come and have a drink with Santa, love.” Willow curled up on her knees next to him and accepted the glass he handed her. “So you’ve met Santa and he’s been to your house so you can check those off your list. Next is your photograph with Santa, but I warn you love, those won’t be photographs you’ll be able to show to Harris.”
Willow flushed. “Spike I… I’m not…. I don’t ….” She trailed off unsure how to respond to that.
He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “I don’t get you, love,” Spike admitted. “I know you, but I don’t always get you.” He stroked his knuckles down her cheek. “You’ve got all this passion inside you, I know, I’ve seen it, I’ve experienced it; but you don’t like to talk about it, you don’t like to acknowledge it. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, pet.”
"I guess I’ve just been used to keeping it inside,” Willow said softly. She lifted her eyes to his face, her hand was warm pressing against his chest as she leant in close to him. “Where it burns and seethes looking for a way out. There wasn’t a way for it to get out until you came along.”
“’M always happy to help you let the passion out, love.” Spike kissed her softly.
Placing her glass on the floor Willow slid her arms around his neck and kissed him back, pressing closer to him feeling him stir against her hip. He drew her to him and they stretched out together on the carpet with his mouth buried at her throat.
Undoing the buttons on her shirt he stripped it from her shoulders and snapped her bra open, the firelight turning her bare skin lush and rosy. She had her hair tied up in a ponytail and Spike carefully took the band out releasing the masses of red locks to flow freely down her back. Burying his hands in it he pulled the long strands over her shoulders where the ends danced at the tops of her breasts.
And then he just looked. Spike knew he should say something, but was incapable.
Her fingers smoothed over the pale skin of his chest, nails scraping lightly over his nipples. “Will you keep everything on, Spike?” she asked shyly.
Spike was almost paralyzed with desire, but not quite. “If that’s what you want, love. Santa always gives good girls what they deserve.”
He wasted no time in ridding her of the rest of her clothes and Willow was more than happy to help shimmy her way out of them.
The kiss he gave her was soft, deep, thorough, swallowing her moan as she arched up against him, her hands running down his back the strange feeling of warmth greeting her from his skin. It was the fire, Willow realised after a moment, it warmed him as he warmed her.
His hands moved over her slowly, stroking, caressing, smoothing her skin. Hefting the weight of her breasts in his palms Spike ducked his head drawing a nipple into his mouth. Willow had to squirm slightly, the tassel of his Santa hat tickled her side and she was very ticklish; laughter she felt would ruin the whole moment.
Between her legs the throb of human desire rose up, aching for fulfillment and she reached into the obviously new pair of red boxer shorts, she certainly had never seen them before, and curled her hand around him. Spike groaned at that first touch of her hand to him, his tongue flickered against the hardened peak of her breast and Willow shivered. Spike was exceptionally good with his mouth, she knew that from experience.
Taking care to ensure he was nice and free, Willow didn’t want anything coming between her and Spike, she took hold of his hands threading her fingers with his. She remembered something he had mentioned a while back, he had been teasing but at the same time she knew he had been testing the waters, sensing her reaction.
“What is it? What’s the matter?” Spike lifted his head confusion covering his face when she pulled his hands away from her body.
“Nothing,” she assured him. Willow was startled, was that her voice all breathy and strained? “Santa always gets a thank you for stopping by but I’m afraid I don’t have any milk and cookies.” Slowly she lifted their joined fingers above her head. “And I think I’m going to have to build up to handcuffs, but will this do for now?”
The tightening of his jaw and his fingers around hers told Willow all she needed to know.
“Yeah, love. It’ll do, you’ll see, it’ll do very well.”
She gave a soft cry when the long, familiar length of him slid inside her. Willow’s back arched instinctively; she always wanted to be closer to him, to have more of him, to feel all of him against her.
It was odd not having her hands free to touch him as she pleased, but she did have this thing about his hair and Willow didn’t really want to dislodge the Santa hat. He looked sinfully gorgeous in it.
Spike’s own groan came from deep within, like a rumble as his hands pressed harder on hers, pinning her in place. She was moving against him, with him, raising to meet him and through heavy lidded green eyes Willow saw Spike’s eyes drop to watch the play of his hips against hers as if he were fascinated by that sight.
Passion rose in him turning his eyes to that strange colour between his usual blue and the yellow of the demon. His face was dark; his body both moved with fluid ease and held back at the same time.
Spike did that sometimes; he held back afraid he would hurt her with the force of the all-consuming desire that raged through him like a tornado. It was building now, the heat within him, his desire awakening the demon that hungered for so much more.
If he hurt her, even by accident, it would set the chip off and their night would be all shot to hell.
Willow moaned and threw her head back and Spike allowed the demon to emerge to experience the pleasure.
Her fingers curled tighter around his, her nails digging into his skin as she reached for her climax. Willow’s eyes shot open not in the least surprised to see that Spike was all ridges and fangs now that he had changed into his true face. Her eyes caught his, deeply yellow and glowing with the supressed strength and danger that came hand in hand with Spike and she cried out her completion, her skin damp, her heart pounding, her legs clinging to him like a vice.
Spike strove for his own release her eyes still holding his as he let go with a cry and a shudder finally bowing his head to her shoulder.
Her knees weakened Willow’s legs slid from around him as Spike nuzzled at her throat where her pulse beat rapidly against his lips. His girl, she satisfied one hunger in him and left the other unfulfilled; through no fault of her own of course, he was simply incapable of biting.
Experimentally Willow gingerly flexed her fingers, she had been gripping his hands so hard her fingers ached a little. Spike didn’t release his hold on her and she didn’t ask him to, content to stroke the backs of his hands with her thumbs.
When her breathing had finally evened out Willow managed to speak. “Well, I must have been an exceptionally good girl this year.”