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Written for Pallia, who lost a cat to feline leukemia.
Two in the morning in February even in Sunnydale can get chilly, and Willow huddled close to Spike as they strolled through the park towards her house. Strange how it hadn't seemed at all cold a mere fifteen minutes earlier when they had been rolling around under their favorite tree by the pond.
Shivering, she stuck the hand tucked through Spike's arm in his jacket pocket and pulled her sweater down over the other one.
"Cold, pet?"
"Freezing. You are so lucky you don't feel the cold."
"I don't get to feel the sun either, luv. There are disadvantages, too."
Willow sighed and tried to think of something to steer him away from his latest fixation--his ingrained belief that she secretly wanted to become a vampire and his very vocal attempts to talk her out of it.
Since becoming a vampire was not one of the top one hundred things she wanted to do in her life, she was getting a little tired of it.
As her brain snapped from one topic of conversation to another--all bad--a small sound reached her and she stopped walking, nearly pulling her arm out of the socket as Spike continued a couple more steps.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I heard something."
Spike snorted. "What a surprise. In the middle of the night, in Sunnyhell."
"Shhh."
The sound came again, from the trees to her right. A pathetic, little whimper of a sound. Letting go of Spike, Willow headed for the trees, knowing he'd immediately follow her.
The sound came again, this time recognizable. A cat. And it was crying from above her head. Looking up into the trees, Willow tried to find it, but it was too dark.
"You have better eyes than I do. See if you can find the cat."
"What?"
The mewing came louder this time and Spike's eyes followed Willow's into the tree in front of them. He sighed. "It's a pathetic little scrap of a thing about twenty five feet up."
Willow looked up at him, the wordless plea in her eyes and he sighed again, a heavy, put-upon sigh.
Reaching for the lowest branch, Spike swung himself into the tree.
"Be careful," she called.
He just grunted in return as he continued up the tree, grumbling, "It would have to be a pine tree. Look at all this sap on my leather jacket, and, damn these pine needles hurt."
Reaching the kitten--for it couldn't have been more than a couple months old--Spike glared at it. It was clinging to a branch, backed against the trunk, shivering--a white and gold ball of fluff. Carefully Spike extended one hand towards it and was rewarded with claws digging into his flesh.
"Shit!"
"What?" Willow called from the ground. "Is it okay? Can you reach it?"
"Oh it's just peachy, luv," Spike snarled, grabbing the kitten and stuffing it in his jacket pocket. Swiftly, he retreated back down the tree and jumped lightly to the ground.
Willow was nearly bouncing in her eagerness to see the thing and Spike pulled it from his pocket. It hissed at him, trying to claw him again, and he dropped it in Willow's open hands.
The kitten--a female, Willow quickly determined-- immediately began to purr and curled into her warm hands. Willow cradled her against her breast, nuzzling the kitten's head with her chin. "Oh, aren't you just the sweetest little thing."
"It clawed me," Spike protested.
Merriment twinkled in the green eyes that looked up at him, both pairs. "Oh, she'll get used to you," Willow said, smiling.
Spike shook his head. "Uh uh, no way are you keeping that. I'm sure I'm allergic."
Willow giggled and reached for his hand, curling up against him again. "Don't be silly. Vampires can't get allergic." He started to open his mouth to protest and Willow gave him a beautiful smile, stunning him to silence. "You're my hero."
He looked down into her eyes and slipped his arm around her waist, then bent his head and kissed her hungrily.
The kitten hissed again, but the lovers ignored it, and finally she quieted down, purring into her new mistress' neck. If the pretty, sweet smelling human liked the cold, dead yet talking thing, then she would too.
End