Like A Small Earthquake


pairing: Spike/Willow/Angel
genre: paranormal erotica
rating: mature adults
warning: threesome, m/m slash
time frame: alternate reality
summary: Alternate universe where Dr. Willow Rosenberg works at the Sunnydale Juvenile Detention Center and her two most notorious cases are turning eighteen - and getting out on parole.



Dr. Willow Rosenberg dropped the two files on her desk. "I'm only thirty-six years old. There are so many different things I could be doing with my life," she said to herself. She looked at the pictures on the front of the files. She shook her head in aggravation. Turned and looked out at the beautiful October sky.

"I could be feeding the hungry. I could be curing cancer. I could be climbing Everest or exploring Alaska or being ravaged by a studly eighteen year old lover." She shook her head at her own silliness. "Instead I'm here psychoanalyzing juvenile delinquents with nothing better to do than smoke pot in the lavatory."

She picked up the phone and pushed the button for her secretary.

"Yes?" Anthony answered.

"Did anyone bother to tell you why these two were sent here this time?"

Anthony smiled and she heard it in his voice, "No, Dr. Rosenberg. But they're here anyway."

Willow sighed. It's always these two. "Fine, send them in."

The two boys walked into her office, heads hung low. That sorrowful look was a lie and she knew it. They knew that she knew it. But they did it every time just the same.

They took their usual seats, slouched down, put their feet up on her desk. Same old, same old.

She crossed her arms and leaned casually against the side of her desk.

"Mr. Pratt, Mr. O'Connor. Either of you care to tell me why you're here this time?"

Spike looked up into her amused green eyes. He always felt like they looked right through him. Like he had no secrets while he was in this room. It made him decidedly uncomfortable.

It turned him on like crazy.

"He's here," Spike informed her, pointing at Angel, "because Mason caught him with his willy up my arse." He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "No idea why I'm here."

Willow tried not to gawk. Well, at least this was different. She picked up her coffee cup, needing something to do with her hands.

"Oh, like you were complaining!" Angel protested. "Didn't hear you complain one single time while you were coming in my mouth."

Willow dropped her cup. Spike smirked. Angel was at her side, attentative as always. Angel was the quieter one, but he was always courteous of her feelings. He kept Spike in line, balanced him out. Angel was like a calming breeze, Spike was like a… she couldn't think of a simile for Spike.

"You all right, Dr. Rosenberg?" Angel bent down to pick up the broken pieces of ceramic. He turned to Spike. "Get a towel, Spike! Do something useful."

Spike didn't want to get a towel. He wanted to sit there and watch Dr. Rosenberg flush twenty shades of pink. But he went just the same. He walked into her private bathroom and grabbed a towel, threw it and it landed on Angel's head.

"Thanks for nothing, Spike" Angel growled, cleaning up the spilled coffee.

Willow sat in her chair and pulled her hands to her lap, trying to keep them from shaking. When they'd made their "pronouncements", the images came unbidden to her mind.

Angel finished cleaning up the mess then sat back down in his chair.

She could do this. She could be professional.

"Really?" she said. Mainly because that had been her standard response every other time they were in here and admitted to whatever infraction of the rules they'd committed that day.

"Nah," Spike said, smirking.

Willow's hand went to her chest. Shoot!

Wait! What? They'd never been known to lie, but then this was just-

"Was the other way 'round."

Willow felt a giggle rise in her throat and she tried but failed to suppress it. They were teasing. She should have guessed.

Angel nonchalantly stood and perched himself on the edge of her desk. She shooed him off but he ignored her. He picked up their files and sorted through them.

"Anythin' intrestin' 'bout me in there, Angel?"

"Yeah," Angel said, pointing to an item in the file. "You've got the same birthday as me."

Spike stood and moved to peer over Angel's shoulder.

"That a fact?"

Willow didn't know what they were up to, but she sat back to enjoy today's installment of The Spike and Angel Show.

"Yeah," Angel continued. "And it's today," he said as if this were a new discovery. He leaned down and showed the date to Dr. Rosenberg.

What do you know? It was their birthday. She should have gotten them something. Like matching handcuffs. - For strictly penal institution approved use, of course.

"And look at that," Spike said in mock surprise. "We're eighteen." He turned and leered at Dr. Rosenberg. "Means we're legal, Doc."

"Oh?" she said, trying to appear unphased. "Legal for what?"

"Legal for all kinds of stuff," he put out his cigarette. Casually made his way around the room, glancing at the diplomas on her walls. He stopped when he was next to her chair. "Voting, the draft… any adult-type stuff."

"We also get out of here tonight," Angel informed her. "Our lawyer's got us parolled from Sunnydale U," he said, referring to the inmates not-so-fond nickname for their place of incarceration. "Juveniles, learned their lesson, yada yada," he moved around to stand on Willow's other side.

"You live here in town, Doc?" Spike asked her.

Was he threatening her? For some reason, that look in his eyes made her think not. At least not with anything that would hurt.


A car pulled up in front of the building. Angel slapped Spike on the arm. "Time to go, Spike."

Spike wheeled her chair around until she was facing him. He got right in her face. So slowly she could almost count his eyelashes, his mouth closed over hers. She didn't quite know why not, but she didn't pull away. She opened her mouth to him. He kissed her but didn't push it, didn't force himself on her; when he pulled away, she was shaking.

"See ya tonight, Doc."

Angel held the door open for him. When Spike swaggered through, Angel turned to Willow. "Until tonight, Doc." He winked at her.

Willow sat in her chair wondering what had just happened. She held out her hand and looked at it. Her fingers were still shaking. She didn't know why.

She knew exactly why.

Some lines from one of her favorite songs crossed her mind.

Starting soft and slow
Like a small earthquake
And when he lets go
Half the valley shakes…

Willow locked the front door, turned off the living room light. She carried her mug into the kitchen, rinsed the cup and put it in the dish drainer. She saw her reflection in the glass window above her kitchen sink. She looked old, frazzled.

She turned off the light and headed down the hall to her bathroom. Her nerves had been on edge all night. She knew the boys had only been teasing her. One last jab at the doc. She ran a hand through her hair. A shower would help.

They'd only been teasing.

The heat infused her skin and eased the tension in her muscles. She rolled her shoulders, curled her neck. That was better.

She turned off the shower and grabbed a towel. One of the fluffy green ones that Buffy had given her for her birthday.


She shook it off and grabbed her razor. She forced herself to calm down, taking her time to shave her legs.

When that was finished, she sat at the vanity in her bedroom and applied moisturizer to her face and neck. She looked in the mirror. Was that-?


A gray eyebrow hair. She grabbed her tweezers and plucked the horrid thing from her face. She stood, thought she saw a new wrinkle and bent to check it out. Before she had gotten a good look, she growled in frustration.

The wrinkles were going to come, didn't matter. Dwelling on them wouldn't help anything. It would probably bring on more lines. She threw her towel over the mirror thinking that she couldn't get upset about wrinkles she couldn't see.

Opening her closet, she started to pull down her favorite green and blue plaid nightgown but changed her mind. She reached into the back of her closet and fingered the midnight blue penoir set she'd bought on impulse but never worn.

Who was she saving it for? Not like men came running when you were over thirty, single and examined people's psyches for a living. She tried not to dwell on how many years it had been since she'd had sex. Four? Five?

Damn Oz and his fucking groupies! And she meant that literally. If he hadn't been fucking them, she'd still be with him. She slid under the covers and lit a candle on the bedside table. She reached in her top drawer and pulled out her favorite book of erotic poetry. Looked like it was going to be another one of those nights.

A loud banging on her front door made her jump.

What the heck?

She grabbed the midnight blue robe to cover herself and walked cautiously out to the living room.

She turned on the porch light.

Spike and Angel stood on the other side of her front door, looking casual and unconcerned, like they came to visit every day.

Her heart started to race.

Should she call the police?

No. She was a psychiatrist. Until today, their psychiatrist. They'd never threatened her. Their stunts were mostly for attention. Mostly.

She opened the door.

They instantly looked contrite.

"Hi, Doc" Angel said, shuffling his feet.

Spike shook his head at Angel's discomfort.

"Look, Doc," he said. "We come to apologise."

"Excuse me?"

"Today, in your office," he turned away, not able to meet her eyes.

"We're sorry," Angel said. "It was just a little joke. We'd never-"

"Yeah," Spike finished, when Angel seemed not to know what to say. "Look, was a joke. We thought about it, figured we'd better come round and apologise, case we scared ya or anythin'."

Willow smiled. Hadn't she just told herself the same thing?

She opened the door. "Would you like to come in? I could get you an iced tea or something."

Spike and Angel came in, genuinely happy that she had accepted their apology.

"See, the thing is," Spike said, coming up behind her, "We lied."

He grabbed her around the waist, turned her around and gave her the kiss he'd wanted to give her this afternoon. His kiss was bruising, penetrating her mouth with more ferocity then anything she'd ever experienced with…

Whatever her old boyfriend's name was.

Like a small earthquake…

She kissed Spike back - again - and the desire she felt scared her.

Angel moved behind her and his hands traveled her body, finding all the curves he'd always suspected were under those sweaters she wore.

She pushed Spike away. As far as she could with his arms around her.

"Please, Spike, you're not a rapist." She was shaking again. She knew it wasn't fear.

He ran a hand down her chest, past her stomach, cupped her pussy. It was wet. From him. For him.

"You can't rape the willing."

He grabbed her around the waist and carried her into the bedroom, tossed her onto the bed.

"Don't tell me you never thought about it, Doc," he said as he peeled off his black leather duster. He gave her that look, the one that always made her think he could see through her clothes. He curled his tongue behind his teeth, raised his eyebrows.

"Every time Peaches and I are in your office you twitch like a blushing schoolgirl." He was pulling his shirt over his head. God, he was just so…


His hand traveled down his chest, showcasing all the attributes that she wished she was less preoccupied with.

"Eighteen, Doc. Legal adult. Not your case study anymore." He was prowling up the bed toward her, stalking her. "Not a thing anyone can say." He kissed her with that overpowering intensity that made her knees weak and her insides melt.

And when he lets go, half the valley shakes…

"You want me, baby? Cause I need you bad."

His voice purred in her ear, his voice and his body kicking her good intentions in the ass, knocking them right out the door.

He felt the moment she gave in to him; turned them over so that she sat astride his hips.

His hands were moving up her legs, grabbing onto her hips and ass almost digging into her skin. "Go for it, Luv. Show me what ya got."

Her fingertips ran over his chest. It had been so long and he was so very young.

"Come on, Doc. I know you got fire in there. I can feel it. You know you want to touch me. Touch me, baby. I don't break."

She ran her nails down his chest, making delicate but distinct red welts.

"Oh, hurt me, baby. You know I love it when it hurts." He thrust his jean covered hips up into her and she felt his cock grow under her. She smiled.

"Got a thing for bad boys, don't ya, baby?"

She didn't answer him, but he could feel her skin flush, smell her sex grow wet.

"You want me to show you how bad I am, Luv?"

She looked at him, not sure.

"I'm the best bad boy you'll ever meet." He sat up, bringing her with him as he turned and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"On yer knees."

She didn't move.

His voice became that seductive whisper again. "I said get on yer knees, Pet. Put that pretty mouth of yours to use sucking my cock."

He slid her to the floor and he leaned back, unbuttoning the fly of his jeans, then sat up on the edge of the bed.

"Go ahead, Pet, touch me."

She slid her hand inside his jeans and he hissed when her warm hand engulfed him. He shifted his hips and she pulled the jeans down enough to free his cock, enough to get her lips around it. She slid her mouth down the length, taking it slow.

"Oh, fuck! So hot! Fuck!"

His praise made her bolder and she swirled her tongue around the head, licking the pearly white fluid as it dripped from the tip.

"Oh, that's it, Luv, drink it down." He was thrusting up into her mouth slightly. She sat back on her heels and guided him to stand. He fisted his hands in her long red hair.

He moved now, thrusting in earnest.

"God, baby. Been wanting that mouth. Wanting to fuck that mouth. Feel those lips around my cock." He thrust deep and hard and she had enough experience to know to breath through her nose, to suck hard, letting her tongue grab hold of him whenever he was all the way in.

"Fuck, baby. Gonna come. Swallow me, baby. Wanna come in your mouth. Drink it down, baby, want you drinking my cum." He erupted in the back of her throat, sending great spurts of his seed flowing down with the momentum of his climax.

"Fuck, Luv, you're so good at that." His hands ran through her hair.

He sat down on the bed and pulled off his jeans. He pulled her up so that she was standing in front of him.

"Think you need a good seeing to."

His hands pulled her gown up and she was startled when she felt someone else behind her. Angel was right behind her, practically spooning her. He pulled the gown up and off. He had taken off his shirt and she spent a moment looking over her shoulder, admiring the view.

"Don't worry 'bout, Angel, Luv. He'll do ya right."

Angel kissed the back of her neck, pulling the skin into his mouth, almost biting her. She sighed and her knees felt weak. When Spike fingered his way into her curls, she lost her balance.

"C'mere, Luv" he said, pulling her onto the bed. He arranged the pillows at the headboard and sat her up against them. "Bend yer knees."

She did as he directed and was surprised when he stretched out next to her.

"Angel, something you wanted to give the Doc?"

Angel lay between her legs, face directly in line with her wet and throbbing center. Angel leaned in and smelled her, kissed her curls. "God, Doc I knew you'd have the prettiest pussy." He smiled into her eyes and she felt her insides squirm. He'd barely touched her and she was ready to come already.

Angel parted her lips with his thumbs and Willow closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the headboard, lost in the sensations.

"Open your eyes, Luv," Spike told her. "I want you to watch him, watch his tongue taste you." His words drew her eyes to Angel's mouth and he pulled back, not to stop, just so that she could watch his tongue run up and down the length of her slit.

Her breathing got deeper and ragged.

"Don't look away," Spike was purring in her ear. "I want you to watch him. Watch him lick that delicious quim. Bet you taste so good."

Angel was concentrating on her clit now. Not only did this bring her closer to release, but he was now in perfect viewing position.

"That's it, Angel," Spike whispered, "Tease that luscious clit. Feel hot down there? She creamin' for ya yet?" Spike sat up, moving down to get in a better position to gaze at her swelling pussy. Angel moved his head out of the way, allowing Spike to taste her. Spike looked up at her face and never took his eyes off of her as he leaned in and sucked her clit into his mouth.

"Fucking fantastic," he said, moving out of the way and letting Angel continue. "Don't look away, Luv, I told ya ta watch his mouth."

Angel's lips surrounding her clit were making her whole body shake and she watched him lick her all through her climax. When she was calming, he moved lower and stuck his tongue up inside her, lapping her release out and savoring it.

Spike moved further down on the bed and unzipped Angel's jeans. He slipped Angel's cock out of his jeans and took it in his mouth, scooting down so that he would be in better to position to take all of it down into his throat.

Willow couldn't take her eyes off him.

"You weren't kidding," she whispered.

Angel smiled against her pussy. "We never joke about sex. Spike and I have been lovers, what? Five years now?" Angel ran his fingers through Spike's platinum locks. Spike nodded around Angel's erection, Angel moaned and turned over to give Spike better access.

"Thirteen…" Willow mused out loud.

"Yeah," Angel answered. He was having trouble focusing on what she was saying. Damn, Spike was so good at this.

Willow watched, fascinated. They seemed to know each other's bodies so well. Spike was moving, sucking and biting spots that she never would have guessed would be uber-erogenous, but every move Spike made was making Angel moan and thrust.

Willow moved down Angel's other side. When Spike licked up the side of Angel's cock, she leaned in and licked up the other side.

"FUCK!" Angel yelled, the dual sensations of two tongues, one gentle, one sure; one hot, the other cooler, sent him over and he came as Spike and Willow's tongues touched on the head of his dick. Willow and Spike continued to lick the head as Angel came, tasting his cum both on him and in each other's mouths.

When Angel finished, they continued licking and kissing, not willing to give up the taste of Angel or each other.

Willow lay spent, replete, between her two lovers.

God, what a thought. Earlier today they had been her cases, she had been responsible for their welfare.

What a difference a few hours makes.

Now they'd taken care of her just fine.

She was relaxing on Angel's chest as Spike massaged her shoulders.

Suddenly Spike stood. He went to his jeans, pulled out his cigarettes and lit one. She thought of telling him that she didn't allow smoking in her house but she was too tired. Besides, smoking looked good on him.

He saw her watching him. Held the cig in his mouth a second longer than necessary, watched her eyes as his mouth opened and closed around it. When he was finished, he squeezed the light between his fingers and put it out.

He leaned back against the wall.

"Hey, Doc?"

She moved her head just enough to look him in the eye. It was too comfortable here on Angel's chest.

"How long you been wantin' to get yer hands on our hot, young bodies?" He was smiling.

Angel chuckled.

"Are you laughing at me?" she asked. For some reason, she now remembered that she was thirty-six and they were eighteen. Old enough to be their mother. She was suddenly self-conscious and tried to cover her body.

"Uh uh," Angel said, grabbing her wrists and holding her hands out to the side. He kissed the top of her head. "Been waiting too long to get a look at those luscious curves, you're not covering them up now."

She blushed. "You - you," she was nervous. "You've been thinking about me?"

"Since our first session." Angel told her. "All Spike talked about that night was you." He laughed. "And I was fucking him at the time." She giggled.

"I can't believe you two got the chance to… be intimate - all that often. The ward is one big open space. There's no privacy."

"All sorts of places you can find," Spike told her. "If you're lookin'."

"Plus, there's my nightmares," Angel reminded Spike.

"Nightmares?" Willow the psychiatrist was concerned. "You had nightmares? And you never told me? I could have-"

Spike moved to the bed. "Shove over."

Willow scooted back and Angel moved with her, bringing him to the middle of the bed, Spike on his other side.

"Was like this. Angel would have a nightmare. Would start to cry."

Willow looked with concern at Angel and sure enough, tears ran down his face. He smiled. "It's a gift."

"Would drive the other blokes batty. Finally they told me that I was his mate, I should do something. I'd climb in bed with him. Tell him to turn over." Angel dutifully turned to his side, now facing Willow.

"Other gits would fall back to sleep, I'd bugger his arse all night." Angel closed his eyes and moaned, Willow sat up and looked behind him.

Wow. Just… wow.

Spike took her hand, helped her climb over so she was now behind him. She sat behind Spike, kissing his shoulder and neck, watching him ease that mouth-watering cock in and out of Angel. It was so… fascinating. Erotic. She slipped a hand between their bodies, slid it down Spike's front. She moved it to Angel's back, rubbed down until her fingers cupped his ass and splayed over the place where Spike's body joined his. She could feel Spike between her fingers sliding into Angel.

"Fuck, Red. Yeah," Spike screamed, pumping with more force when he felt her hand on Angel - and on his cock.

He drove into Angel a final time and shot his load.

When he pulled out, Angel stood, still very aroused, and took Willow's hand.

"Wanna fuck you up against a wall," he told her and that was all the warning she had before her back hit the wall and she felt his cock push into her with such power it lifted her off her feet. She wound her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Angel caught her mouth in a kiss and she dissolved into him. His mouth felt like an autumn day. Cool and brisk and invigorating. His lips and his tongue brought her to life.

As he kissed her, his hands held her hips in place on the wall and he hammered into her over and over, banging her literally into the wall.

She felt dizzy, like she was spinning.

She became aware of a body behind her; Angel had turned them and Spike was now beyond her, his fingers wet and rubbing into her anus, opening her, stretching her. She was going to tell him she'd never done this before, but before she'd got it out, it was too late, she was doing it now.

It was like nothing her life had ever prepared her for. Two bodies, both entering her, filling her. They were everywhere. She thought she'd burst.

Spike was cursing in her ear, that wonderful dirty sex talk that she'd never experienced before tonight and she never wanted to do without again.

She was so close.

"Funny thing, Doc," Spike said in her ear. "We'd planned on being here earlier tonight."

He was talking to her, telling her something.

Almost there.

"But we got held up."

Angel leaned into her other ear.

Both thrust at the same time and she was coming hard and strong. She was falling…

"Did you know there are vampires in Sunnydale?" Angel asked her.

Angel and Spike both morphed into their newly acquired game faces and bit into her at the same time, one on each side of her neck.

Oh, God, it was terrifying. She was coming…

She was dying…

Spike bit into his wrist and held it to her lips.

"Drink, Luv, we want you to live forever…"

The End