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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
- 8
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- 10
“I feel completely ridiculous! Are you sure Jason didn’t bring in anything else?” Willow called from the bathroom.

“For the last time, I’m SURE. I guess that Anita bird was a little put out about you getting blood all over the last set of clothes you borrowed and refused to let you have any more. These were just some they keep around,” Spike said, tugging at his own borrowed apparel.

“Well, technically, you were the one who got blood all over them when you bit me, so you should be the one to have to go out there looking like this,” came a disgruntled reply.

“Hey, I’ve got my own problems. There must not be a single bloke in this place that doesn’t dress like a bloody poof. I had to send the furball back three times before he finally brought me a plain T-shirt. I’m still stuck with the pants though…”

“I don’t care what you think; it can’t be as bad as the stuff he brought me. I can’t even figure out which part goes where…”

“Well, I’d be happy to come in there and help you, luv, if you’d just unlock the door…” Spike purred suggestively, listening to the faint sound of the redhead’s pulse jump in response to his words.

“Oh no you don’t, you stay right where you are. I don’t know what happened before, well okay I do know what happened, “ she corrected with a blush, “but it had to be the binding spell gone all kablooey or something.”

“The what?” Spike asked, not sure he heard her right.

“Nothing,” Willow replied quickly, unsure of how he would take the news of being tied to her in such a way. “The point is, we are so not going to let it happen again.”

“Well, I’d love the chance to convince you you’re wrong, but there’s no time now, dog-boy’s on his way back. Better hurry it up, pet.”

“What are you talking about?” Willow asked in frustration, looking in the mirror and tugging desperately at the tiny pieces of leather and lace, trying to make them cover a bit more. “That’s twice now you’ve made a weird reference to Jason, and for the record I’m not coming out until I’m ready. It’s bad enough you let me sleep so long there wasn’t time for a shower first. I feel gross.”

“I’m talking about the wolf-man or well wolf-boy in this case. Sheesh, Red, I would think you ll pll people would be able to recognize a werewolf. This place is like some kind of monster halfway house or something; vamps, weres, and I’d swear that I can even smell the faint traces of zombies somewhere nearby.”

“Well, I didn’t catch on about Jason, but there is definitely something weird about this place, like it’s practically crawling with magic. And my powers here are like tenfold…”

“Yeah, me too. Look, he’s almost here, if you’re ever coming out, it’s now or never…”

Just then the bathroom door opened, and Willow came out, her eyes focused on the floor and cheecheeks flaming red. Spike took one look at her and felt himself harden. He had already seen her naked, touched her bare skin, and yet, seeing her like this in her very tiny outfit, blushing with her ever constant modesty, she had never looked more desirable.

The top was little more than a fancy push-up bra made of dark green leather, low cut, with little strips of bright blue lace at the tops, barely covering her pink nipples, unless of course she bent over and then all would be revealed. The pants were much like his own, skin tight, leather in a matching shade of green, low cut to reveal her bellybutton, and laced up the sides so that it was apparent that she wasn’t wearing knickers. Before he could play it cool, Spike let out a shuddering breath followed by a slight growl that seemed to caress her in places where she had never been touched before.

Willow looked up at the noise, determined to overcome her embarrassment and project an image of strength. However, when she caught sight of Spike in his black, leather pants with peek-a-boo holes up the sides and a skin-tight, blue T-shirt, she couldn’t help but feel drawn to him. In fact, she was already pressing her body up against his before she even knew what she was doing. Spike buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent, as his arms pulled her body flush against his, letting her feel just how aroused he really was.

“You know, I was going to offer to go out and nick you some different clothes later tonight,” he purred in her ear, “but after seeing you, I’ve changed my mind.”

Pushing her hair back from her neck, he traced his tongue over the fresh bite on her pale skin, and smiled to himself when Willow sighed with pleasure, running her hands down his back to cup his ass, pulling him against her even harder. He didn’t know why he had never realized how irresistible she was before, but now that he had her, he had no intention of letting her go.

Jason opened the door to find the pair in a slightly intimate moment. Most people would have politely shut the door again, knocked, and given the occupants a moment to compose themselves. However, Jason was not such a person. He stood there watching, waiting to be acknowledged, and wearing an expression somewhere between a smirk and a leer. Compared to some of the things he had walked in on among these rooms, the pair before him was downright tame, but still there was an intensity about them that was hard to resist.

“I know you’re there, dog-boy. Get off on watching, do you?” Spike growled.

J fli flinched for a moment, not for being caught acting the voyeur, but for the dog-boy reference. He wasn’t surprised the vampire had figured out what he was, and he wasn’t ashamed of being a were, but he didn’t have to be so insulting about it.

“Jean-Claude is ready for you,” he said coldly, turning instantly to lead the way.

“Oww! What was that for?!” Spike asked, rubbine spe spot on his arm where Willow had suddenly pinched him. She just shot him a withering glare and moved up to walk next to Jason. She placed a hand lightly on his arm to get his attention, but he looked away from her, not wanting her to see that his feelings had been hurt by the little comment.

“You know, my first, well only, real boyfriend was a werewolf,” she said softly, snapping his attention back to her.

“Really?”

“Yep, I always thought it was kind of cool, well except for three days a month when all he wanted to do was eat me,” she babbled, and then turned a deep scarlet as she realized how that must have sounded. “I…mean…um…”

“I know what you mean,” Jason said, his smirk returning, his hand covering hers as they continued down the hall.

“Bugger that!” Spike growled, stalking up behind them and forcing them apart before shoving Jason into the wall. Jason didn’t resist, but there was suddenly a tension around them, and an otherworldly air prickling up Willow’s skin as she felt the werewolf’s power rise. She felt, rather than heard the low growl that was trickling from Jason’s throat, and knew she needed to stop this before it could go any farther.

She tried pulling them apart, but Spike was simply too strong for her to even budge. Clearly hers was not the only power that had grown by coming here. Finally, letting her frustration get the better of her, she kicked him as hard as she could on the side of his knee and watched as the vampire tumbled to floofloor for only a moment before he was back up and coming after her. Up until then she hadn’t thought about what his reaction might be, but now she was scared.

“Spike, you have to get control of yourself!” she yelled as he grabbed her and pushed her againse wae wall. She could feel Jason’s power continuing to build and was afraid he would change or something if she didn’t diffuse this situation. “You’re hurting me!” That seemed et het his attention, and he backed off a bit, letting go of her arms, but still continuing to stare her down.

“You. Are. Mine.” Spike said through clenched teeth, “He had no right to touch you.”

“Wrong. I belong to no one. Not you, not anyone,” he opened his mouth to argue with her, but saw her eyes start to take on that familiar inky black look and thought better of it. “Now look, we discussed this before. I know you are royally miffed at what these people did to you, but we are majorly outnumbered here, and if we want to get out of this alive, you’ve got to cut back on the Big Bad routine, okay?”

“Fine,” he answered in a bored tone, but the muscle twitching in his jaw betrayed his new cool façade. Willow sighed and mentally crossed her fingers that Spike would behave himself.

@@@@@@@@@@

“So, I trust you are both feeling more refreshed?” Jean-Claude asked as Willow and Spike entered the room. He was sitting on the couch, perfectly posed, wearing a white ruffled shirt that was open in front, revealing an expanse of pale flesh, marred slightly by a cross shaped burn. To top it off he was wearing skin tight black pants and thigh high boots that folded over at the top and had buckles up the side. Willow had to smile when she looked at him; he resembled some sort of beautiful pirate.

An unseemly snort drew her attention away from him and to the vampire in the corner. Asher was also beautiful beyond belief, but much more masculine in his khaki pants and brown silk shirt. His face was all but hidden behind a curtain of golden hair, but the one eye that was visible held nothing but contempt. Willow wished she knew whatever it was she had done to offend this man.

As her mind pondered this mystery, however, Spike came to stand behind her, wrapping one arm across her shoulder and pulling her back against his chest, his hand coming to rest uncomfortably close to her left breast. She felt herself blushing at such intimacy in front of strangers, the memory of how they had spent their day making hace ace flush an even darker red, and tried to pull away from him, her anger returning as she remembered the incident in the hall.

She looked up and saw that the look Asher held had shifted from contempt to pure hatred, his fangs slightly bared. Then she felt a low growl emitting from deep within Spike’s chest, too low for mortal ears to hear, but it was obvious everyone else had, with the exception of Anita. Willow had to wonder briefly if that meant the young man lounging on the bed reading comics, Nathaniel, was a werewolf also, because all his attention was focused very keenly now on her and Spike. Feeling annoyed that she was going to have to go through this again already, Willow opened her mouth to say something, but Jean-Claude beat her to it.

“At the risk of sounding a touch melodramatic,” Jean-Claude cut in, trying to break the tension, “no one here intends on stealing your human servant away. So, there is no need for such power displays. Isn’t that right, mon ami?” his tone changing slightly to indicate that he expected an answer, but like all good predators, his eyes never left the threat standing in front of him.

“Non,” Asher ground out through clenched teetNo oNo one is trying to steal your servant. However, it amazes me that you could have won such a prize in the first place. You have the manners of the swine you feed off of. I am surprised you didn’t just piss on her to give her your scent, not that she doesn’t already stink of you.”

Willow was thrown to the floor, and an instant later Spike was halfway across the room in a rage, Asher closing the distance from the other side. She jumped to her feet as quickly as possible, but the others in the room, whatever they were, were much faster and were already moving to join the fight.

“Detineo!” Willow yelled, and all the inhabitants in the room froze in place. “Sheesh! I suddenly feel like I’m babysitting, but not gng png paid,” the redhead growled, “Now, I know that we all haven’t gotten along so well before, but Spike and I are stuck here at least until I can figure out how to get us home again. So, until then I think we need a few ground rules. The first rule is no fighting; otherwise nothing ever will get accomplished. The second rule is that everyone needs to take the testosterone level down a couple of notches. I don’t know how any women can even stand being around the lot of you.” At this she gave Anita a brief glance, realizing that she was actually as macho as the rest of them, “Finally, the next person who refers to me as a servant or implies that anyone has ownership over me, and that includes you, Spike, will out out what happens when a witch really gets pissed off. Do we all understand these rules? Good, because there is no time to be messing around with all this poop, I think something REALLY bad is coming, and if it’s as bad as I think it’s going to be, we’re all going to need to work together to survive.”

With a flick of her wrist she released them again, and everyone moved back to their neutral corners. She didn’t miss the look that passed between Spike and Asher which clearly said, ‘we will settle this later,’ but she let it slide for the moment.

“I wish you would quit fucking doing that,” Anita muttered darkly, “You know there are laws against using magic against other people, and it carries the death penalty.”

“The police know about magic here?” Willow asked, feeling her blood run cold. “Wow, I figured we must be in some sort of alternate dimension because of all the little differences I’ve noticed, but I had no idea this place was THAT different. Are you going to report me for using magic against you, even in self defense?”

“No,” she answered after a long moment. She understood that some circumstances sidestepped the law, and had she not used her own powers on a few occasions, she would have been dead long ago. Anita was many things, but she tried to avoid being a hypocrite. “No, I’m not going to report you, yet. I may not like it, but I believe you had no intention of harming us and just wanted ind ind your ‘friend.’ But now I think we all need to hear some answers from the both of you, like where did you come from, and how did you get here, but first you can start by explaining what this ‘bad’ thing is that is coming,” she finished, running her hands over her skirt to smooth out the wrinkles in an unconscious nervous gesture before she realized what she was doing and crossed her arms in front of her chest defensively.

“Well, I’m not sure exactly what it is; I just felt it before in my head. It may sound crazy, and I’m not psychic or anything, but it was like pure evil, pure darkness, just on the edge of my consciousness. Not like it was something I was dreaming, but like I had somehow floated into ITS dream,” she babbled, “…and then it started to wake up. Like I said, I know it sounds crazy, but I also KNOW it was real, and that it’s coming.”

Anita was staring at Willow with an expression of horror, her face suddenly gone very white. She turned and looked at Jean-Claude, the terror she was feeling flowing through the marks between them, as the full meaning of her statement hit him.

“Mon dieu,” Jean-Claude said softly, turning his look toward Asher, “c’est impossible, the Mother of All Darkness.”

To be continued…
- 8
- 9
- 10
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Healing Wounds