Willow yawned and stretched out. "God, I had the worst dream, I dreamt that I was stuck in the past with Spike. Can you believe that, honey?" Willow murmured, half-asleep.

"Actually I can, darling," Spike drawled.

"You're not Tara," Willow said in an accusing voice.

"Fabulous job of detective work, Red," Spike drawled.

"What're you doing in my bed?" she demanded.

"Sleeping…or I was," Spike answered. "Has your girlfriend told you that you snore bloody loud?"

"I do not!" Willow scowled.

"Either the chit's deaf, she snores as badly as you do or she's too nice to say something about it," Spike stated. "My money's on the third: she's as spineless a woman as I've ever met."

"Tara's not spineless," Willow defended her partner. Spike snorted. "I'll set you on fire if you keep that up."

Spike arched his scarred brow. "Do we really want to go through my non-existence fiasco again, luv?" Spike asked.

"I hate you," Willow muttered.

"I know you do but as long as I unlive things look downright peachy, Red," Spike stated. He gave her a cheeky grin as he slipped out of her bed. He stretched and Willow glared stakes at him. "Narf, Brain, what're we gonna do tonight?"

"You watch Pinky and the Brain?" Willow asked.

"Gotta have something to watch when Passions is a rerun," Spike stated with a shrug.

Willow shook her head and let out a long-suffering sigh. "And as per what I'm going to do tonight. I'm going to try to find that spell before we change too much," she whispered, frowning as she realized just how much things had changed.

"Why not just go with it…see where it takes us, hmm?" Spike murmured.

"Spike, do you really, really want to die? Because you're making me really, really want to kill you," Willow scowled. She cut him off before he could continue. "Fate of the world because of your non-existence be damned. Now get out of my bed!" Taking him by surprise, she shoved him out of the bed and he landed on the floor with a loud thunk and a muffled curse. She stood up, shoving her brush through her brownish-red hair. She wasn't sure how much of this she could take. Spike was already driving her insane and she'd spent more time with him in the past few days…years…whatever than she had since she'd met him…in the future.

God, this was definitely giving her a migraine. And it's all my fault. I couldn't think about Buffy's death, I had to think of poor, mope-y Spike and I get screwed! Everything's gone and I need it back, she thought, slumping to the bed. She frowned, Spike was being quiet…too quiet.

She leaned over the edge of the bed and found Spike half-under the bed. Her face turned bright red as she realized what he had. He was thumbing through one of the naughty books under her bed. "Spike, give me that," she said, warning in her tone.

"No, it's far too interesting," he stated, standing up, the well-read book in his hands. "Ooh, page 367…my, my, Willow…didn't know you had it in you." He cleared his throat and Willow winced, jumping to try to take the book from his hands. "'Carefully, he unlaced her bodice and stripped away her undergarments. Her alabaster skin shone under the moonlight and her breasts heaved, lips parted as she panted. She was on fire, only Grey could do this to her. How she hated him so often but when they were like this, everything was forgotten as his sun-darkened skin was revealed to her violet eyes. She moaned softly as he came into view—'" Willow took the book from his hands, her face very nearly the color of her hair. "Blimey, Red, it was just getting interesting! All heaving bosom and moist petals of womanhood!"

The redhead glared at him and made a note to herself to burn all the books hidden under her bed. "I hate you," she sighed, walking across the room to her desk, shoving the book into a drawer and slamming it shut.

Spike smiled mirthlessly. "No. You don't," he stated. "I remember what happened between us that night." He closed the distance between them and Willow darted toward the door. "Your smell, your taste, the way you felt in my arms…you didn't stop it, I did."

He pushed her none-too-gently against the door and placed his hands on either side of her head. Willow shivered at his words and his closeness. "I missed Tara, I was…acting out," Willow insisted.

"Pet, you don't act out toward a male when you're in love with a female," Spike stated. Willow didn't get a chance to say any more as Spike's lips descended on hers. The kiss was brutal, demanding, his tongue forced its way past her lips and tangled with hers. Flames of red hot desire thrilled down every nerve of Willow's body. The kiss finally ended, leaving Willow breathless and her lips bruised.

"What are we doing? What are you doing to me?" Willow asked tearfully, shoving Spike back and exiting her room.

Spike couldn't say or do anything; he simply watched the redhead retreat from her bedroom. His demon came forth, his eyes burned golden as the door slammed shut. He closed his eyes. He could still feel her heat scalding him. He could still taste her: she tasted so delicious like an exotic delicacy…a forbidden fruit. Her scent clung to him, her arousal and the scent of lavender: sensual innocence. The scents and tastes and warmth drove him wild with need. He wanted her, now more than ever, and Spike always got what he wanted.