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Healing Wounds	By : Sylver Category: Anita Blake > Crossovers > AB/BtVS Views: 5402 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Anita Blake series, nor BtVS. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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“Where were you?” Spike asked, pulling Willow into a powerful embrace. “I was worried.”

“I got lost,” she answered as best she could with all the air being crushed out of her. “Spike…I…can’t…breathe.”

“Sorry,” he said, loosening his grip, but not releasing her. “You smell funny.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Not just funny, you smell like that other one, Asher.” Again his grip on her tightened, but this time he held her by the arms, away from him so that he could glare accusingly into her face. “Where. Were. You?”

“I told you, I got lost. While I was trying to find my way back, I ran into Asher. And for the record, the whole jealousy thing is not very becoming,” she replied defensively, conveniently failing to mention that the two of them had nearly ended up in a lip lock. She was a free agent, and there was no reason she should feel guilty. ‘Yeah right,’ she chided herself.

Not sure whether he believed her, a muscle in his jaw began to twitch, but still he let her go. Unlike Buffy, brute force would not be enough to get where he wanted to with this one, and contrary to Drusilla, she was not some demented child that he could simply outwit either. If he wanted to keep Willow, he would have to play it carefully.

“Sorry, pet, you’re just so…argh! I don’t know how to do this!” he growled, beginning to pace in front of her. “Look, let’s just go out, okay? Jason agreed to take us to get some different clothes, and I for one could really use a spot of fresh air. What do ya say, luv?”

“Actually that sounds great,” she said, relieved by the change of subject.

@@@@@@@@@@

Despite the initial humiliation of having to walk into a store feeling like she was just in her underwear, Willow was thoroughly enjoying their outing. She had been to St. Louis once when she was eight to visit her Uncle Maury, and in many ways this version of the city was just as she remembered it. However, the one in her reality hadn’t been crawling with vampires. Well actually it probably had, and she just hadn’t realized it. Everywhere she looked, clubs advertised with pictures of fanged beauties, or boasted of zombie acts. Jason informed them that Jean-Claude owned the large majority of these establishments, and made a killing on the tourist trade, quickly adding that he was speaking figuratively on the killing part when he caught sight of Willow’s shocked expression. The point was that the vamp was loaded, and was all too happy to foot the bill for their little shopping spree.

Willow had selected a few items quickly, desperate to get into some more normal clothing as quickly as possible. Her selections were modest, but still sexy, leaning toward snug V-neck shirts that revealed a slight amount of cleavage, and blue jeans. When she was finished, she and Jason had some time to get better acquainted while they waited for Spike.

They sat in the chairs by the changing rooms, chatting while the blonde vampire made several trips back and forth to the racks as he tried things on. Willow found that she was really enjoying herself with the werewolf who reminded her so much of Xander. He was funny and warm, and she soon found herself missing her childhood friend very much. Xander, however, would not have found any excuse possible to touch her, or proposition her six times in less than an hour. She wasn’t surprised to learn he was a stripper, but she did blush with embarrassment as she caught herself mentally undressing him, just thinking about what he did for a living. Jason smirked as if he could read her mind and offered to give her a private show, which she politely declined, flushing a darker red thinking about what might follow such a show.

“I’m ready,” Spike said, interrupting her dirty thoughts. Thankfully he was too busy looking over his purchases to notice her crimson cheeks.

“That’s what you got? I can’t believe it took you an hour to pick those out!”

“What? What’s wrong with ‘em?” he asked, looking down at his plain black T-shirt and slightly snug black jeans. Willow glanced at the load of bagged clothes propped up on his arm and saw more of the same.

“They’re just like what you always wear.”

“Why mess with a classic? Besides,” Spike held up a black leather jacket. “…it took me a while to pick this out. What do you think?” The coat, unlike his traditional duster, was short and seemed to be meant for motorcycle racers, with ribbed patches over the elbows and kidneys. It was a bit trendy maybe, but very sharp.

“I like it,” she replied honestly, “But you do realize it’s like 100 degrees outside, right?”

“What can I say, I’m naturally cool,” he replied with a smirk as she rolled her eyes at him.

“Whatever. Let’s go.”

@@@@@@@@@@

They drove around for some time, taking in the sites and relaxing a bit. Spike filled her in on what he and Jean-Claude had talked about earlier while she was in the kitchen. It seemed that he was just as interested in their world and the vampires there as they were in his.

“…but then I mentioned the blooming onion they used to have at the Bronze and after that all he wanted to talk about was food. Did you know that vamps here can’t eat nothin’ but blood? Angelus and Darla always passed on the mortal fare too, preferring to be blood connoisseurs instead,” he said in a mock snooty tone, “But I don’t see why we vamps shouldn’t have the best of both worlds. Jean-Claude seemed pretty jealous about that bit though. Why are we stopping here?” Spike asked as they pulled into a modest café.

“I have to run a quick errand, sorry,” Jason replied as he got out. “I’ll only be a minute.” He stopped when Willow hopped out of the car as well. “Where are you going?”

“I need to use the ladies room.”

“Here?” he asked, clearly tense. She looked up at the place, with its blue neon sign of a crescent moon and the words Lunatic Café, it seemed normal enough.

“Yeah, why? Is there a problem?”

“No, no problem,” Jason replied, but the tension in his shoulders as he led the way through the doors said differently.

From the moment they walked into the establishment, Willow felt a weird energy prickling up her skin and couldn’t help but notice that all eyes seemed to be on her. ‘I’m just being paranoid,’ she thought as she went about her business. However, on her way back out to the front, the feeling had increased, and she heard raised voices between Jason and a tall redheaded woman, standing near the long polished bar. With the exception of similar hair and skin color, she and this woman were clearly nothing alike.

Unlike Willow who was short with a petite build, this woman was tall and voluptuous, like Jessica Rabbit in the flesh, ‘I’m not bad, I’m just drawn that way.’ Looking her over, Willow got the feeling she was bad, bad news anyway. She was draped on the arm of a tall man with short brown hair that looked as if it were previously worn in a crew cut that had grown out slightly shaggy and very appealing. When he turned his head slightly, she saw gold and copper highlights in the locks that complimented his perfectly tanned skin. His build was impressively muscular, but not overpowering. He was in a word, striking, but most striking of all was the aura of power around him, obviously potent and very well contained. “Yum,” she muttered without realizing it. Their eyes turned to take her in, the man wearing a slightly harried expression, the woman one of disdain as if Willow were beneath her recognition.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said apologetically as Jason looked at her in frustration. She wasn’t sure what she had walked in on, but it clearly wasn’t good. “I’ll just go wait in the car until you’re finished.”

“There’s no need,” the tall man replied tersely. “I know all about you, and as I was just explaining to Jason, I will not involve the pack in this business.”

“Excuse me?” Willow asked, feeling like she had walked in on a foreign film that was lacking subtitles. “I “I obviously am not going to go into details here, just tell Anita that I want no part of any of this.”

“Okay…Let’s try this again. Hi, I’m Willow Rosenberg. It’s nice to meet you,” she said in what she hoped was a friendly tone, holding out her hand. However, she almost took it back when she saw the leggy woman next to him looking at it as if she was about to bite it off.

“What kind of a name is Willow?” she asked snidely.

“What kind of a name is Paris?” Jason quickly countered.

With a weary sigh, the man shook his head, and gave both of them a look that clearly said, ‘knock it off.’

“I’m sorry; I’m not normally so rude. I thought you knew who I was. I’m Richard, Richard Zeeman,” he replied, sliding his warm hand into hers.

It was as if a jolt of electricity shot up her arm, an instant attraction that made her breath catch in her throat. She looked at him with eyes slightly dilated and knew that he had felt it too. Looking into his eyes, she could see there was a shadow on his soul, and she could feel it as well. She felt a pain that went as deep as Asher’s but with no physical reminders, and she knew that if given half the chance she could erase that pain and heal his soul.

What the hell was happening to her lately? She had never had feelings like this at home, despite all her use of magic, but here it seemed as if everyone she touched was having some sort of effect on her. No, that wasn’t quite right either, because she hadn’t felt anything like this with Jason. She couldn’t quite pinpoint where it was coming from, her or him, but she knew she had the power truly make a difference in this man’s life. The two of them stood transfixed, hands still clasped together, contemplating the possibilities, when they heard a low growl coming from Paris.

“You better take that hand back if you want to keep it,” she said possessively.

“I would watch your mouth if I were you,” Willow replied with more confidence than she felt, letting a fraction of her power show in her eyes. She had the distinct feeling that at the slightest show of weakness this woman would try to tear her apart. Her power crackling briefly around her like static; she watched as the woman’s eyes widened a bit and she took a step back before catching herself and holding her ground. Two men quickly moved in from the side, positioning themselves slightly in front of Richard as she released her grip, slightly shaken from their contact. One was tall and black with long cornrows hanging down his back. The other, a slightly stockier man, was of Asian descent and was impeccably dressed. Both of them screamed bodyguard. Richard raised one hand, breathing a little heavily, and motioned for them to back off a bit. They didn’t look happy about it, but they did as instructed. He unwound Paris’ arm from his, giving her a hard look.

“I am Ulfric here, and you are NOT my Lupa,” he muttered darkly at her, “Watch yourself.”

She lowered her eyes submissively, but it was clear she was not happy about it. “I’m sorry Ulfric. I just don’t understand why you waste your time on humans when there are more suitable mates for you.” There was a distaste to the way she said ‘humans’ that made it sound like a foul word.

“Who I spend time with is my business, and I am perfectly capable of choosing my own mate,” he replied coldly. “Now, go wait in the other room.” After she had stalked away, Richard turned his gaze back on Willow. “I apologize for Paris, she doesn’t mean any harm.”

Willow didn’t agree with him on this, but she simply nodded and kept her mouth shut. It was apparent that Richard had no intention of ever choosing her as his Lupa, whatever that was, and Paris didn’t seem to be taking the rejection too gracefully.

“Anita had mentioned that you were powerful,” Richard cocked his head slightly with consideration, “…but I think she understated the fact judging by that little display. It doesn’t matter though; I still will not involve my pack in this matter. I’m sorry.”

“Again, I’m not following you. I had no idea that Anita called you about me. When you say ‘this matter,’ are you referring to the Mother of All Vampires?” she guessed. Richard flinched.

“Please don’t say that name in here. I know she can’t hear us, but still…”

“Sorry. I’m just trying to figure out what you’re talking about. That is what you are talking about, right?”

“Yes, and as I told her, I’m not going to risk my people in yet another battle over vampire politics.”

“Oh…umm, okay then…I’ll be sure to pass that on to her. It was nice meeting you, Richard.” Again she extended her hand, thought better of it, and pulled it back. “Maybe we better not shake. If you don’t mind though, Jason and I really should get going. We left Spike in the car and he has a tendency to get into trouble if left alone for very long. I’m sorry if there was any confusion about why I came here tonight.”

“Of course, I’m sorry too for the misunderstanding. Please feel free to come back and eat sometime, the food here is excellent,” he added lamely, feeling embarrassed for assuming the worst about her.

“I just might take you up on that,” she smiled, touching Jason’s arm to indicate she was ready. She stopped though, only a few feet from him, and added over her shoulder, “Oh, not that you should concern yourself, but whatever you think this is all about is wrong. It’s not a matter of vampire politics that has me worried, it’s the end of the world,” she finished a little coolly, turning her back on his shocked expression and walking back out into the night.

To be continued…
- 10
- 11
- 12
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Healing Wounds