NOTE: This chapter is rated FR13

Nothing Like The Others

Part 30 - Nothing Like The Others

Note: purrfus, everyone needs Monty Python... even Spike

Willow walked out of Giles' office with a sigh. After four hours of researching with Buffy and Xander, she'd been called upstairs to go over some magical texts he'd obtained from Dumbledore. As a person who loved to read, Willow was surprised to find herself dreading the next day. The professor had promised to floo over with some more books in the morning and this witch was not looking forward to more words on a page.

As she flopped her way downstairs, Willow realized she hadn't eaten since lunch. Looking outside, she could see the sun rising over the houses across the street. Food was an order and then she had an appointment with her bed.

The house was quiet, but Willow could hear sounds coming from the living room. She saw the blue light of the television playing across the windows. Thinking nothing of it, she walked into the kitchen for a quick bite to eat.

"Morning," Spike said from the table.

"Oh, Spike," she gasped, surprised to see him. "You scared me."

"Thanks, love," he said with a grin as she put her hand to her heart. He was drinking cocoa from a mug and reading a novel. "Can't sleep?" he asked, putting his book on the table.

"Just finished up in Giles' office," she replied, putting a slice of chocolate cake on a plate and sitting down next to him.

"It's nearly six in the morning," Spike said. "Think we're over doing it a bit?"

"I know we're overdoing it," she said, lifting the fork to her lips. Smiling at the delicious frosting, she swallowed the cake that nearly dissolved in her mouth. "Don't have much choice though, do we?"

"You still need to sleep," he said, sipping his cocoa.

"Very true," Willow agreed. "I needed food in my system. I haven't had a bite since lunchtime yesterday."

"I haven't had a bite since, about a month ago," Spike said with an innocent smile.

"Funny," Willow said, taking another bite of her cake.

"The truth," he said, drinking the last bit of his cocoa. "You gonna eat anything else or is this the chocolate cake diet?"

"This from the guy who lives on blood, battered fried onions, and cocoa?" Willow asked.

"Blood, it does a body good," he joked and, at Willow's groan, walked over to the sink to wash out his mug. "You want anything else?"

"I think this'll do it for me for now. I'm so tired that I just needed to make sure my blood sugar didn't go any lower than it already was," she admitted. "Why are you still up?"

"Faith and I had an appointment to watch all of the Monty Python movies today," he said.

"You should have been done hours ago," Willow said, confusedly, eating the last of her small slice.

"We decided to add Flying Circus to the mix and we're still not finished. She's passed out on the couch, and I got thirsty," he explained. Spike sat down next to Willow again, putting another piece of cake on her plate, helping himself to a slice as well. "You need the calories, kid."

"Kid?" she said with a raised eyebrow.

"I've been hanging around Faith too much lately."

"Understood," she said, digging into the cake without further comment. Her eyelids were beginning to droop, but her body made her continue eating. Automatic pilot kicked in and she was simply going through the motions until her fork met with an empty plate.

"Bedtime?" Spike asked, amused at the obviously sleepy witch.

"I think maybe," Willow answered. "Which way is my bed?" she asked as the exhaustion seemed to take over her body all of the sudden.

"Come on, love. I'll help you upstairs," Spike offered. The symmetry they'd been experiencing days ago had vanished with all the training and research going on in the Summers house. Spike missed patrolling with the pretty redhead. He missed the talks they would have as they strolled through cemeteries, dusting vamps, and killing demons.

"No, that's all right, Spike," Willow said, barely able to keep her eyes open. "I can make it there, I just don't remember where it is because I haven't seen it for so long," she joked.

Spike stood up, grabbed both dishes and forks, and washed them in the sink. By the time he turned around, Willow's head was laying on her hands, her eyes were closed and she'd already begun the deep, even breaths of sleep. She'd pushed her chair out to get up, but never made it any further. Spike let her lay there for a few moments. He'd sat and watched her sleep only days earlier, but it still made him smile. She was an angel even awake, but with eyes closed in sleep, the light casting a glow on her hair, and her face relaxed and carefree, Willow looked like she could obtain her papers to get into heaven at any time.

The fact that he was mentally composing poetry for the young witch was also not a newsflash to the vampire. She was brilliant, beautiful, selfless, and modest almost to a fault. He wondered if there was ever going to be a time when she thought of him as anything more than a vampire who was in love with her best friend. His face may not have changed, but his mind and heart were altered with the acquisition of his soul just as they had been when he'd lost it.

Willow's eyes fluttered open for a moment. He smiled at her as they slowly closed again without a word. She sighed and fell back to sleep. She would wake up the next morning with a sore neck and back if he didn't get her upstairs soon. Tapping her on the shoulder, Spike tried to wake her up for long enough to help her to her bed.

"Willow," he nudged. "Willow. Wake up, love."

"Uhh, don't wanna," she said, her eyes still closed. She heard Spike chuckle at her and opened her eyes for long enough to stick her tongue out at him. "Too tired to move."

"You're going to be hurtin' tomorrow," Spike warned.

"Don't care," she half whined. "Stop talking and let me sleep."

Spike leaned forward and tapped her shoulder again. "Come on lady, we need to get you to bed."

"No. Not moving."

"Fine," he said as he put his arm underneath her knees and picked her up. When her head flopped against his chest, her eyes opened in surprise. Far from putting up a fight she simply let him carry her.

In her head she knew that Spike was a vampire and therefore very strong. Her brain kept telling her there was something wrong with him carrying her. Willow felt badly for making him take her to bed. And in the second between the thought happening and her brain actually processing the fact that Spike was "taking her to bed" she began to get very nervous.

"Put me down," she said softly. "I can walk the rest of the way."

"Love, you can barely keep your head up," Spike said. "We're almost there."

"I'm too heavy," she said, her face nearly buried in his chest.

"Right," he said sarcastically looking down at her thin frame. Standing outside her door, he held her with one arm and opened the door, further proving how "heavy" she was. He laid her on her bed and tucked the blankets up to her neck. He turned to leave her to sleep.

"Stay?" she asked quietly as he reached the door. She snuggled into her bed, pulled the covers around her, and made herself comfortable. Smiling as he sat, once again, in the chair by her bed, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

"Apparently, we're sleeping together," he said with a self satisfied grin, "again."

He stood up, grabbed a pen and paper from her desk, and wrote a note to put on the door. Finishing quickly, he taped it on the outside of the door and closed it quietly behind him. Smiling at the sleeping woman he hoped the note would do its job.

Sleeping. Do not disturb until at least 1pm.
thanks, Willow

She deserved a good night's sleep for once and he would bite anyone who dared interrupt. He sat back in his chair and made himself comfortable. She was deep asleep for the second time in an hour. He could hear her breathing change from shallow to deep in minutes. He watched her eyes move under her lids, signaling R.E.M. sleep.

"She's dreaming. I wonder what about," he said quietly to himself as he closed his eyes in the chair. He was nearly dead to the world when he heard her breath hitch. Her face was twisted, her hands clenched around her blankets.

Whatever was running around in that head of hers, it wasn't pleasant. After all she'd been through in the last seven years, it was no wonder. Honestly, he didn't know how any of them could sleep soundly at night. She began to whimper as the dream intensified; he could smell the fear coming off her in waves.

He scooted his chair closer to her bed. Tears began to fall down her cheeks even though her eyes were closed. It was winning, whatever she was fighting, and it was winning big time. Instinctively, Spike touched her hand, trying to provide her with some form of comfort. Even unconscious, he could see the calm setting in. The tears stilled and the dream dissolved into mindless sleep. He felt her hand clench at his like he was a life preserver keeping her afloat through the swells. He sat next to her bed and held her hand until he fell asleep right there on the floor.

It was the first night where her dreams weren't plagued by nightmares since she'd tried to end the world. It was a karma she felt she deserved. She never complained or told anyone. When the Earth was ready to forgive her for taking her grief to that level, the dreams would stop.

When she woke the next afternoon, it felt like she'd slept for days. She looked through the blinds she'd closed and saw the sun high in the sky. Moving to get up, she realized her hand was clutched around something. Looking down, she saw Spike sitting next to her bed, holding her hand. She smiled at him. He'd carried her out of the kitchen so she wouldn't wake up in pain and it looked like his neck was going to be permanently cricked to the left. When she tried to pull her hand away, he squeezed it tighter.

"Spike," she said quietly, softly pushing his shoulder. "Spike, wake up."

When he didn't move, she realized how disconcerting it can be to watch a vampire sleep. He didn't move. He didn't breath. For all intents and purposes, he looked dead. She nudged him again, this time a bit more forcefully.

"Spike, let go."

His eyes opened and he let go of her hand, albeit reluctantly. He stretched his hands above his head and moved his head around, working the cramps out. He reminded her of a cat, with his lean muscular form. He may look slight, but there was great strength in his body.

"How'd you sleep?" she asked, wincing.

"Just fine, love," he said in an attempt to reassure her.

"Liar," she disputed. "I couldn't have been comfortable on the floor," she finished in a humph. "What were you doing down there anyway? And why were we holding hands?"

"You were having a nightmare, love," he said honestly. "It seemed to calm you a bit."

Willow's face filled with blush as she realized why she'd slept so well. The nightmares had been calmed simply by his touch. She shook her head and wondered what the Goddess had in store for her.

"Thank you."

"It was my pleasure. Couldn't let you just lay there," he said as he stood up from the floor and sat next to her on the bed. "You were in all kinds of pain."

"Yeah," she said looking at what appeared to be the most interesting spot on the floor she could find.

"You want to talk about it? Ten out of ten psychologists say that it helps," he urged with a smile.

"We both went through a lot last year," Willow said. "You with your soul and me with the whole trying to end the world thing."

"But you didn't," he said simply.

"Yeah, Xander stopped me and I will never stop being grateful for that," she said, spinning her hair into a bun and then letting it drop down her back. The nervous gesture was enough to calm her hands enough to allow her to continue. "It's just that... It's just I, feel like I still haven't been forgiven. The dreams are how I know I still have further to go."

"Further to go until what?" Spike asked.

"Until I can forgive myself, I guess," she replied with a shrug.

"You're amazing," he said with the smile she'd come to identify as his "light up the room smile".

"What?"

"I've tried to 'end the world'," he said making quotations with his fingers, "more times than I can even remember anymore and you don't see me moping around letting it get to me. You did it just the once and I know it wasn't but months ago, but you need to move on, love. You need to forgive yourself. You need to let go of the whole thing. The only one still blaming you is you. I don't know if you've noticed but you're rolling around with a pretty forgiving lot. I don't know if they're just extra forgiving or they are so scatterbrained that they can only deal with what's at hand."

"Hey," Willow said as she started to laugh.

"Seriously. Am I wrong?" he said, glad that she had come out of her funk even just a little. "You'll be fine, love, I promise."

"And my dreams?" she asked, not sure what she was looking to get out of it.

"Stop now. I don't care if I have to sleep with you every night," he said with a leer that only increased at the blush rising in her cheeks and spreading down her neck to her chest.

"You are terrible!" she said, swatting him on the arm.

"Hey! I'm just willing to make the ultimate sacrifice here," he said playfully.

Willow shook her head in exasperation and stood to leave the bedroom. She turned back to look at him and found him standing right behind her. It really was irritating how quietly he moved.

"Eek! Do you have to do that?" she said when he nearly ran into her.

"What? Walk out of the room?" he answered amusedly.

"You know what I mean, buster," she said "resolve face" in place and finger pointing at his chest. "You need to make more noise when you move."

"Sorry, I'll trudge more often," he said, obviously placating her. "Was there something you wanted to say before you bellowed?"

"I did not bellow," she bellowed. She was annoyed by his smile and looked at him frustratedly. "Stop smiling at me like that!"

"Like what? I'm not smiling at you any special way. Just because you're talking like a crazy person doesn't mean I'm smiling at you like you could possibly need padding on the walls in here," he said, side stepping her and heading for the door himself. He turned just as he stepped out of the door and asked again, "What did you want to say to me again?"

"You mean besides that you're infuriating?" she said quickly.

"Yes," he said with another smile, "besides that."

"I wanted to say thank you," she said, coming down from her annoyance.

"For what?" he asked.

"For being scary enough to keep my demons away, I guess."

The smile that ran across his face this time was far from annoying. This smile was enough to make this former lesbian want to kiss him right on his full lips. It was not only full of pride at being able to help her with something she'd obviously been fighting for a time, but it was full of faith, in what she wasn't sure.

"So, thank you," she said, kissing him on the cheek.

"It was no trouble, Willow," he said, sincerely. He was lucky that vampires couldn't blush because his body would have betrayed how much he'd enjoyed feeling her lips on his skin. She was soft everywhere he was hard and he had a feeling that if he could convince her, they would make an amazing pair.

"Friends then?" he said, hopefully.

"I don't think so," she said and smiled at him with an expression illustrating she, too, might be interested in something more.

When she walked out of the room, Spike realized this couldn't be like any relationship he'd ever had. Thinking about it, he'd only ever had three. He couldn't be with Willow in any of those ways. Walking down the hall to his own room, he considered the three women who'd truly shaped his love life over the centuries.

With Dru, they'd happily murdered their way across the world. Willow didn't strike him as the type to enjoy that kind of behavior, especially if her nightmares were any indication of how she felt. He'd loved Dru with all his heart and she'd left him flat. It may have been justified; his mind had been swimming with Buffy. She'd known that he couldn't be hers anymore; he'd moved beyond her. She'd taught him how to love, how to give it and receive it. Over the hundred years they'd spent together, they'd spent a great deal of it loving and he would never be able to stop loving her. She'd made him what he was, taught him how to be a man. Dru was the woman by whom all others would be judged.

Harmony was a classic case of a rebound. She was beautiful and a vampire and not bright enough to see that he'd really longed to be with someone else. She'd known about Drusilla and let him get away with using her. She'd let him take out his anger on her, something he wasn't proud of. His soul made him consider her position. Her stupidity was no excuse for all the things he'd done to her. However, she'd allowed him to finally feel wanted for the first time since he'd come to Sunnydale while she was still in high school. Harmony supported him even when she knew his plans would fail and he'd forgotten how much it had meant.

Laying in his bed he finally began to think about Buffy. She was the hardest to pin down. With her it had been more of an obsession, a deep, life-changing, soul acquiring obsession. Buffy had let him do things he'd not been able to even attempt before their relationship. She let him try things he wouldn't have even tried with Dru and she had been shy a few marbles most of the time. It had been about sex and nothing else at the beginning and he'd tried to convince himself that it was enough. He'd learned there was so much more he needed from a woman than simply a roll in the hay. He'd have to thank her some day for letting him go, making him understand he needed more, and for forgiving him. What he'd done in the end... haunted him even still. She'd forgiven him and taken him in. She'd shown him he could get beyond his past and begin the path toward redemption.

He'd take the love from Dru, the feeling of being wanted from Harmony, and the need for something more from Buffy. These three women had been with him for good times and bad. They'd stood by him, knocked him down, and picked him back up again. He wasn't sure where the fourth would take him, but he was absolutely sure she was nothing like the others.