Disclaimer:  Joss Wheldon, Mutant Enemy, and FOX own the rights to BtVS.  No copyright infridgement intended.

Love, Life and Tequila
by Midnight Girl

Willow hiccuped miserably as she shuffled along the darkened street. She took another gulp from her tequila bottle.

"Trusty faithful El Toro," she slurred. "You'll never leave me."

(Unlike my boyfriend, unlike my "friends" who beg off hanging out with me to go to a frat party they have no chance of getting into. Unlike those stupid boys at the Bronze. Stupid attraction spell, should have known even magic couldn't make me irresistible to the opposite sex.... Stupid Oz.)

Her stomach lurched painfully at the thought of Oz. She had made a complete fool of herself that morning, begging him not to break up with her.
Pleading for just one more chance. Bitter tears formed at the corners of her eyes as she remembered his condescending smile and pat on the head.

"Oh, Willow, you didn't really think we'd still be dating when I left for college, did you?" he said, his face shifted in surprise. He smiled. "Oh-
you did, that's so sweet."

She bit back a sob and took another drink. She had started drinking sometime around sunset. First she raided sherry from her parents' liquor cabinet, then she moved onto her dad's cognac. It tasted awful, but it burned the pain away.

Just as she was circling somewhere around blind, stinking drunk, she decided to bathe in magickal attraction blend, a lust-drawing spell. She wanted to go to the Bronze, hook up with the first random guy that hit on her and forget she ever met that stupid Miss-Clairol-worshipping werewolf.

But the spell didn't work. When she got to the club, all of the guys seemed sort of disturbed by her, repulsed. After two hours of staring into her coffee, Will bribed the bartender to slip her a bottle of tequila and slumped into the darkness to get face-numbingly drunk.

Angel watched sadly as he followed Willow down the dark, lonely street. He had been trailing the little red witch for a while now, led from his
apartment by a sweet heady scent on the breeze. Now he realized with dread and delight that the closer he got to Willow the stronger the scent became. The closer he got to her, the closer he wanted to get to her. Not that the idea of getting close to Willow had ever sounded unpleasant.

For a while now, he had watched the redhead with appreciation and awe. She was so smart, so giving and sweet, she couldn't judge him if she tried. It wasn't in her nature. Everything  he had done as Angelus was forgotten and forgiven. She had even given him back his soul. He was indebted to her in ways he couldn't express.

Her sniffling drew him out of his reverie. (Where the hell was the werewolf? Where are her friends? How could they leave her so alone when she is so obviously hurt?)

The breeze picked up, carrying more of her delicious scent towards him. He was about to call out to her, when he saw another form approaching. Pale and blond, Angel noted with irritation.

Willow's head jerked up as she heard someone walking behind her. (Uh-oh, her sluggish brain slurred, sounds like trouble.) She whirled around,
brandishing her trusty bottle like a club, not noticing the tequila trickling down her arm.

"Hello, hello, hello," Spike drawled with a grin. He took a deep unneeded breath, letting the stirring aroma that had drawn him to her envelope him.

"Spike," she grunted with irritation. She turned the bottle upright and took another drink. "You scared me."

"Sorry, love, didn't mean to," Spike shrugged.

She turned and kept walking. "Stupid boys, you're always going all 'grr' and expect me to just deal with the consequences. Just once I'd like to have a serious attack of rabid PMS, rip some guy's arms off and beat him senseless with them and then tell him to just deal with it."

She tilted to the right, threatening to keel over. He grabbed her shoulders, steadying her. He buried his face in her hair as her head lolled on his
shoulder. In a moment, a thousand images and ideas spun through his mind. He wanted to kiss her, hold her, have her, feed from her. Most of all, he just wanted her to stay with him.

"Didn't your mum ever warn you about wandering the streets alone at night?" he murmured into her hair. "You could get eaten  by the big, bad wolf."

She wrenched out of his grasp. "If the big, bad wolf comes anywhere near me, I'll bitch-slap his sorry hide! See other people, my ass! Why didn't he just say we could still be 'friends?'"

Spike ignored the jibe. In her condition, her couldn't be sure it was meant for him. She took a long pull on the bottle. Her eyes narrowed. "And you. Don't call me 'love,' I'm nobody's 'love.' I'm not even someone's one-night stand."

(Trouble in paradise? he thought hopefully.) He had always had a soft-spot for the little witch, ever since they had been holed away in that dingy basement when he kidnapped her. He thought that there a flicker of... something between them. But because she was the Slayer's little crony, he hadn't bothered pursuing. But the Slayer wasn't around at the moment....

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Red," he stepped deftly around her and into her path. "What's going on? Where are you going?"

"Home," she said.

"Your house is that way," he grinned.

"Fine," she stumbled around and headed the other direction.

"Come on, pet, stand still for a second and tell me what's going on," he said. She moaned and sagged against him. He braced her, more than willing to press his body against the length of hers.

"Haven't you figured it out yet, you soulless moron? The wolf dumped her and she's drowning her sorrows in some -" Angel sniffed the bottle. "-oh, ye gods, very cheap tequila."

"Pouf, "Spike grimaced. (He's always butting in where he doesn't belong.) Spike pressed Willow possessively against him. For Angel's benefit, he ran his fingers along the snowy white length of Willow's throat. A low purr passed her lips, she leaned into the caress like a spoiled cat. "What brings you out on a night like this? Volunteering at the whiny vampire hotline?"

"The same thing that brought you to Willow, Spike," Angel rolled his eyes. "You can smell her just like I can. You want her, just like I do. But,
she's obviously drunk, Spike. You pride yourself on the challenge and there isn't one here. Just let her go. I'll drive her home."

(The pouf smells it too, I'm not crazy.)

"Like bloody hell I will," Spike spat. "I'm not going to just hand her over to you so you can have her all to yourself. She's not Dru, you know.
Besides, finders keepers, mate. And I'm not ready to part company with her just yet."

It was just then that they realized that they were surrounded by a veritable army of their male fledglings. They were drooling and snarling, sniffing at the air. Angel glanced at Willow, sleeping obliviously in Spike's arms.   (Her scent, they'll tear her apart.)

"Spike, we've got to get her inside," Angel said.

"What's this 'we' stuff, pale face?" Spike sneered. "She's with me."

"Fine, then I invoke the right of the sire," Angel growled.

(Should have known the wuss would pull rank, Spike grumbled.)

"Fine," Spike said, shifting Willow into Angel's arms. She mumbled incoherently and wrapped her arms around his neck. Spike stroked her cheek "The mansion's nearby, we'll take her there."

He turned to his fledglings, game face intact.

"This mortal belongs to me," he declared. "As master vampire of Sunnyhell and your sire, I command you to not so much touch a hair on her head. If you disobey, you'll suffer an agonizing death."

"But Master Spike, her blood calls to us, can't we have just a taste?" one minion whined. Spike growled and threw the insolent child against a tree, with a conveniently placed broken branch at heart level. The young vamp burst into dust, showing the others Spike meant business.

He turned. Angel had already started towards the mansion. Spike quickly caught up. He could tell trying to take the girl away from his sire would be futile, just by the way Angel was nuzzling against Willow's neck as he walked. He absent-mindedly reached for a strand of red hair that had spilled over Angel's arm.

Angel kicked in the door to the mansion and laid Willow across the couch. He quickly positioned himself in the corner behind her, wrapping his arms around her sleeping form. Spike growled, settling her legs across his lap.

"Now what?" he asked. (I'm not willing to share, Angel, so why don't you just bugger off?)

Angel  shrugged. "I have no idea. But I'm not going anywhere, Spike. As long as you're here with her, I'm here."

Spike rolled his eyes. (Figures.)

Angel nuzzled against her ear. "Willow, wake up."

She moaned softly and snuggled deeper against his chest. He smiled and pulled her closer. Spike rolled his eyes again. He parted her legs and knelt between her thighs. He brushed his cold lips against her cheeks, stroking her legs in a slow rhythm.

"Wake up, love," he whispered. "We want to play."

"She's not a toy, Spike," Angel warned him a low, dangerous voice.

Spike reply was cut short by Willow's waking.

"Mmmmm," she smiled. She reached up to stroke Spike's impossibly perfect cheek. "Boys smell nice."

Spike grinned. Not exactly the cerebral banter he had come to expect from the redhead.

"Willow," Angel murmured against her neck. "We need you to wake up."

She nodded and stretched. Spike's eyes bulged as the fabric of her shirt stretched. She looked around, taking in her surroundings.

"What am I doing here?" she asked Angel.

"Will, we need to know what you did tonight," Angel said. He moaned as she squirmed against him to sit up. She blinked sleepily. Thinking sorta hurt.

"Got dumped, got drunk, took a bath, got drunker, took a walk." she said, settling into Spike's arms. He gave Angel his best "can't help it if she
likes me" look and tucked his chin over her head.

"What was in the bath, love?" he asked. His hands toyed with the buttons on her shirt.

"Typical attraction spell stuff," she shrugged, the motion opening the gap in her unbuttoned shirt.  "Lavender, rose, musk, dragon's blood, sandalwood, hellabore-"

"Hellabore?" Angel asked, trying to concentrate on something besides the sheer pale blue bra she wore. "Don't you mean hellbane? Most love spells require it."

"No, Mr. Magick Smart Guy," Willow shook her head stubbornly. "I remember the label clearly said 'hellabore.'"

Angel groaned. Spike burst into laughter.

"What?" Willow demanded. "The spell was supposed to lust-drawing. I was supposed to be irresistible to the opposite sex, but the stupid thing didn't work!"

"Oh, you made yourself irresistible all right," Angel chuckled, stroking the line of her jaw. "Irresistible to us."


"It seems you're rolled around in vampire catnip, love," Spike grinned, pulling her shirt from her shoulders.

"Oh," Willow shook her head. "Well, no wonder none of the boys at the Bronze seemed attracted to me."

"They were blind, love," Spike brushed his lips across her throat.

"Witless," Angel agreed, tentatively rubbed his hand along her thigh. He leaned closer to her, trailing kisses along the side of her neck Spike
couldn't reach.

Willow laid back and relished the feeling of two pairs of cool, talented lips at her throat. She reached up, cupping both their faces and pulling them closer to her. She marveled in the difference in their kisses. Angel moved his lips slowly and cautiously, testing her resolve. He seemed so overwhelmed, as if he thought she might bolt at any moment. Spike was so sure of himself. He lavished her jugular with his tongue's attention, lashing out quickly and confidently. He ran his hands along her body, settling briefly over her breast, but moved on quickly. She moaned in frustration, she arched her body against Angel, begging for contact.

Her arousal only made the rich scent stronger. The smell of her filled the room, their silent lungs, their minds. They could think of nothing but her. Spike nipped lightly at her throat, gauging her reaction. She moaned, pressing against the back of his head, pushing him closer.

Angel watched, his apprehension growing. He didn't know if he could control this situation. He didn't know if he wanted to. He missed his childe. He remembered the nights they shared women with great fondness. But he didn't want that for Willow, he didn't want her hurt. As long as he was there, Spike would be somewhat restrained.

Angel's hand shook as he reached for the stays of her wrap skirt, pushing the fabric out of the way.

"A little anxious, are we, Peaches?" Spike grinned. "Besides, isn't this a little out of the question for you?"

"Spike, when I was reunited with my soul and released from hell, I achieved the greatest happiness possible in either realm. As happy as sex could make me, I don't think it could match that."

"So, you could have been.... all this time and you never told the Slayer?" Spike asked.

"Why would I want the Slayer when Willow was right in front of me?" Angel asked, kissing Willow's cheek.

Willow groaned, whining a bit, why had they stopped so suddenly?

"No more talking," she grabbed the back of Angel's head and pulled his lips to hers. Ice. Fire. Lightning. Angel was mesmerized by the ease with which she claimed his mouth, searing him with her heat.

"I'm feeling a bit neglected, love," Spike whispered against her ear.

Willow shifted, leaning back against Angel wrapping her legs around Spike's waist, pulling him against her. She waited for him to take her lips,
sighing when the ice-cold flame of his tongue sought entrance to her mouth. She trailed kisses along his jaw, his throat, ripping at the buttons of his shirt with her teeth.

Angel looked up at Spike, his face a mixture of awe and anticipation. Spike grinned and shrugged. Who knew she had it in her?

"I think we should move this upstairs," Angel said, his voice thick.

Spike nodded. He scooped Willow up in his arms. What was left of her clothes fell on the couch. (What are you doing, Rosenberg? the rational side of her mind yelled. Shut up, brain, she told herself. For once, I'm going to do what I want, when I want. Consequences be damned. And right now, I want to see these two naked. Very, very naked.)

She peered over Spike's shoulder and wiggled her eyebrows at Angel. (God, I hope she knows what she's doing, Angel thought. I hope she knows what she's doing to us.) With her eyes trained on him, Angel shed his long coat and left it at the foot of the stairs. His shirt soon followed suit.

Willow's eyes opened wide. She had seen Angel without his shirt before, but never for her benefit. He was so beautiful, sculpted, a work of art. She smiled and began pulling at the buttons of Spike's shirt, she wanted to see what he looked like. A button popped off.

"Careful, pet, I like this shirt," he grinned.

She pulled the shirt all the way open, the buttons skittered across the floor.

"I'll sew them back on," she murmured against his throat.

Spike chuckled as he laid Willow on the bed. Before he could straighten up, Willow wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him down with her. He landed with a surprised "ooof." Angel laughed, the little witch was a spitfire. She pushed the shirt from Spike's shoulders as Angel settled on the bed behind her. He pulled her body against him, his erection straining against her backside.

Her eyes opened wide. She had never... oh, goodness. She had Oz had never gotten to this point before. She didn't know she could do that to a man, much less a vampire.  Spike watched with pleasure as her face flushed.  She didn't know what she was capable of. He leaned back, easing out of his jeans.

Willow gasped as she took in Spike's lean naked form.

"No underwear?" she grinned. Spike pulled her close for a breath stealing kiss.

"Gets in the way," he murmured. She rolled over.

"And what about you?" she asked Angel. "Boxers, briefs or bare?"

Before he could answer, she tugged at his pants, revealing white boxers with big silly red hearts. He grinned sheepishly. "Laundry day."

Spike and Willow burst into laughter.

"Doesn't matter," Willow yanked the boxers down. Oh.....goodness.

Spike rolled Willow on top of him. She straddled his hips. He reached for the clasp at the front of her bra, awestruck by her warmth. He hadn't had a human lover in so long, centuries in fact. Would he even remember what they liked? Would he hurt her in his enthusiasm? She answered his doubts by grinding against him, begging for release. She snapped the clasp easily, freeing her small, perfect breasts.

Angel reached for her, pulling her body back to the bed between them. Spike growled. (Damned nuisance, sire, why can't you get your own woman.) Spike groaned as Willow's experimenting fingers brushed along his chest, briefly playing with his nipples before she moved on. More than anything, he just didn't want to admit, even to himself, that he was almost glad to have his sire back in his bed.

Angel's hand wrapped around her chin, pulling her head back to allow him access to her throat. The other snaked around her body to caress her pale coral nipples. She gasped at the cold contact, arching against Spike. He wrapped her leg over his hip, and pulled her closer. Her panties were still in the way. He tugged at the waistband, easily snagging the cotton and with a loud tear he tossed it to the side.

Instead of admonitions, Willow responded by pulling him against her, almost daring him to enter her. He slipped a cool finger into her, testing her. She was so tight, surely she wasn't...

Willow moaned, pressing against his palm. Angel brushed his fingers along her ass, tentatively slipping into her- asking permission. As the discomfort subsided, Willow peered over her shoulder and brushed a kiss across his forehead. Permission granted. He positioned himself behind her, he didn't want to enter before Spike. They had to be perfectly timed, better to let her absorb everything at once.

He peered over Willow's shoulder, laving her shoulder blades with kisses. Spike nodded, she was ready. With a quick thrust, they were sheathed in her. She cried out as her innocence was ripped from her. Spike's eyes widened, she was a virgin.

To distract her, Angel tipped her head back with his palm and sank his teeth into the tender flesh between her neck and shoulder. Spike bent his head to her breast and drank and he began pressing slowly into her.

Lashing out in surprise, Willow bit Angel's hand cradling her cheek. He yelped in shock as her blunt teeth broke his skin. In apology, she kissed the wound, licking at the small drops of blood that appeared. He started a slow rthym, hoping the much needed friction would keep him from coming with the thought of his blood on her lips.

Spike was lost. Lost in her. The feeling of her heat. The knowledge of sharing a woman with Angelus again. He reached out, groping for something to keep him earth-bound. It was Angel.Without thinking, he wrapped his arm around his old lover, pulling them closer to him.

Willow relinquished Angel's hand to take Spike's lips. Spike had seen the exchange, he flicked his tongue over a fang and offered it to her. She took his lips, his blood into her with whole-hearted enthusiasm.

Angel lifted his lips from her shoulder. "Willow," he whispered, their paces quickening in unison. "Say our names. Tell us who you waited for."

"Angel," she groaned, teetering on the edge of release. "Spike."

On hearing his name, Spike shuddered. His cold seed filled her just as she fell over the edge. She quaked around Angel, bringing him with them. He collapsed against her. She rolled slightly onto Spike's chest.

"Spike," she mumbled as she drifted into sleep. "Angel.You're what I waited for."

Angel breathed a needless sigh. He rolled back, taking her back with him. Spike growled, cradling her against him. (Fine, Angel grumbled.) He
snuggled against Willow's warm satiny back.

"She was a virgin, we fed from her as we took her," Angel murmured into her skin. "You know what that means."

"I know, I bloody well know," Spike said, absentmindedly licking at the wound on her shoulder. (It means she's mine and you can't take her from me, you wanker. She's not Dru. She's nothing like Dru. She's stronger than both of us.)

"We'll have to explain it to her," Angel said. "When she sobers up, she may not be as ... accepting of the idea."

"She has to accept it," Spike said. "She got herself into this. We simply answered her spell."

"I'm sure that will be more than enough comfort for her," Angel said flatly.

"Oh, come on, Angelus, I don't think she's going to be that upset," Spike said.

"That remains to be seen," Angel snorted. "One thing's for sure. She'll never touch tequila again."