What kind of snack food was appropriate when a vampire kidnaps you? Reese Cups? Skittles? Mike and Ike's? Junior Mints? Definitely chocolate. Willow had a feeling that this was a dark chocolate kind of day. That was the trouble with being a denizen of Sunnydale, there were never any etiquette books to cover the situation.
"What'll it be, pet?" Spike asked, watching her chew on her lower lip as she pondered her selection. He admired her concentration. He had no doubt that the gears were just whirring in that brainy head of hers. He'd give a few decades off his unlife to know what she was thinking about. She was that fascinating. Better yet, her thoughts would make sense, unlike Drusilla.
Willow was thinking about escape. Freedom lay a few yards away in the form of a gray steel door down the hall. It was so close. "H-how much money do you have?" Willow asked, timidly. All the while, she surreptitiously eyed the door.
"We have our work cut out for us, don't we?" Spike rolled his eyes before he smashed his fist through the glass enclosed vending machine. "I hardly ever pay for anything, pet."
"Oh." Willow's eyes were wide as she gulped. "But, Spike, I'm not THAT hungry."
Spike snickered. "You have to learn to let loose a bit. Live in the moment." He pulled his hand loose, twisting it to the left so that he didn't scratch it on the jagged edges of glass. He just had a few superficial cuts but didn't want to bleed all over their breakfast by opening them more. "Besides, we'll take some for the road too."
"Right. On the road again." Willow said, humoring him. Meanwhile, she looked left and right but no 'candy police' came. Unfortunately. This wouldn't be a problem if they were near a donut shop. Spike seemed to be taking his time. "Shouldn't we hurry?"
"Why?" Spike was loading up the pockets of his duster with assorted bags of chips and candy bars.
"Uh, because someone will find out. Then, they'll call the police and they would-"
"I'd eat anyone who tried to stop us, pet." Spike said, opening a Baby Ruth bar with gusto. "Or break their necks. Depends on my mood." He bit down on the candy, sighing with satisfaction.
"Oh. . .well, that's just. . .gross. . .er, great." Willow daintily selected an Almond Joy. She snagged a pack of gum and a couple of packages of Fig Newtons.
Spike frowned. "Take more than that, luv. We're going to be traveling and I can't stop all the time to feed you."
He made her sound like a demanding pet or a fragile house plant. "Fine, but if anyone asks, you made me do it." She grabbed a couple of packages of chips and a few candy bars. It wasn't exactly healthy but it was food. Her eyes strayed to the door once more.
"I'll gladly take the blame." His eyes lit on the soda machine "You need something to wash it down."
"Oh no, I can just drink some tap water, don't worry about-"
But Spike ripped the door of the unit of its hinges. Inside, were several kinds of pop in cylindrical shoots. "Take your pick."
Good God, he's strong. It suddenly made escaping less appealing. And much more appealing. "Er, thanks." She dutifully chose some root beer and a couple of colas.
"You're welcome, pet." Spike was perusing the shoots, making up his mind.
She knew she'd never get a better opportunity. She was most likely close to home. He was distracted and weighed down by junk food. "Oh, look, Spike, they have Tolberones. This must be a high end vending machine." Spike peered into the machine.
Willow bolted, screaming. She left a Hansel and Gretel trail of snack foods behind her. "Help! Help! There's a vampire after me, help!" She knew it sounded ridiculous as soon as it left her mouth. . .but she was too scared to think of a good lie.
"Oh, very good." Spike chortled. "Now, tell 'em the Easter Bunny has you cornered." He was just a foot behind her, his long legs eating up the carpeted hallway.
Willow threw her Fig Newtons at him but she missed.
A door at the end of the hall was flung open my an middle-aged man in boxers with lip stick stains on his forehead and cheeks. "What the hell is going on here?"
"Never mind her, mate. She just likes a bit of playacting as a prelude to a good shagging." Spike said, flashing the man a 'cat that made love to the canary' grin.
Willow threw her hands against the door and was about to throw it open when Spike's arms surrounded hers and his hands encircled her wrists. "No! Let me go!" She cried, trying to throw her body weight against the door to open it. But the hinges were rusty and her weight was too slight.
Spike gathered her up against his chest, his arms covering hers like a living straight jacket. He whirled them both around. "We'll be on our way then, won't we luv?" He tightened his hold on her slightly, warning her to not make a sound.
The man in the doorway looked at them doubtfully. It was obvious that the young woman was upset. He thought he saw encrusted blood on her neck, it was hard to be sure in the dim light. "Why don't you let her go? She doesn't look like she wants to go with you."
"I think you need to mind your own business." Spike said, his voice was infused with a warning. He flashed his demon face and the man's eyes bulged. "We don't want any trouble here, do we?" Without another word, the aging human backed into his room. Spike marched Willow back to their room, his arms still wrapped tightly around her.
Once inside, he roughly shoved her towards the bed. She caught herself before she tripped and gingerly set down on the edge. Her heart was racing and her breath was coming fast, as if she'd just run a marathon. She was afraid she'd pass out. He started to pace and Willow became even more frightened. She thought it best to be quiet and try to blend in to the bedspread.
Finally, Spike threw open the door to their room. He fixed her with an utterly lethal glare. "I'm going down the hall. If you're as smart as I think you are, you will stay put. If I have to come get you, I'll take a strip off you. Got it?"
She couldn't even look at him. " Staying put."
***********
Willow moved back against the headboard and pulled her knees to her chest. She could hear the sound of flesh slamming against metal outside. Then, she heard the sound of coins spilling on the floor. All the while, a string of very British obscenities was coming from Spike's lips. 'Bloody' and 'sodding' were favorite choices. On a positive note, at least he wasn't taking out his very obvious anger on her. Though, this could be the warm up to a witch-hunt.
All to quickly, the ominous sound of footsteps approaching her door was heard. Willow took a few calming breaths as the door opened and Spike appeared. In his arms were four ice buckets the hotel provided. Two of them were overflowing with shiny silver coins. The other two held snack foods and sodas. "W-wow. That's a lot of candy. D-do you feel better now?" And less homicidal?
"Much." Spike said. Beating the machines to a non-bloody pulp seemed to be just what the demon doctor ordered. He set down his ill-gotten gains on the nearby dresser.
"A-and are you less mad?"
"No." Spike considered this a moment and shook his head. "Hell, I even kind of admire you for your daring. Not many people could have pulled that off. Distracting me with the candy and what all. Its even more amazing that you're still alive. Pissing off a vampire is never a smart move, luv."
"Yeah, that's a bad habit." She ducked her head. "Musta picked that up from Buffy." She said hurriedly, anxious to agree with him.