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Chapter 4: The Girl of my Dreams

Spike sniffed the air in the alleyway, double checking the trail he was following and frowned. He'd been trying to track down a young girl who'd escaped from a mental ward, or rather the demon that had possessed her, before she hurt anyone else.

By some miracle the demon hadn't killed anyone yet, although it had imbued the girl with enough strength to snap the guard's bones like twigs. She'd also severely injured a clerk and a rent-a-cop at a store where she'd stolen some food and clothes.

Although Spike was glad there hadn't been any fatalities yet, he was puzzled by it. The fact that everyone who'd gotten in her way had been incapacitated, but not killed spoke of some amount of control. The sort of demons that possessed people were not known for control. They were known for tearing up everything in their way, at least once they got to the point where they made their presence known. And this one was certainly not hiding.

More puzzling, and more troubling was the fact that she seemed to have doubled back on him, and unless Spike was very much mistaken, she was actually behind him.

He spun around and caught the foot that would have kicked him in the back of the head. He twisted her foot trying to force her to the ground but instead of resisting him, she moved with him, pushed herself off the ground with her hands, and kicked him with her free foot.

He let go of her, and she was on her feet instantly. They faced off, and she shook her long brown hair away from her face. Her lips pulled back and she snarled at him.

Spike stepped back startled, and next thing he knew he was flying down the alley and crashed into a dumpster.

It wasn't her snarl that had thrown him off balance, it was her face. He knew her, even though they had never met. She was the Slayer that had chased him in his dreams.

He didn't have time to wonder about it, he suddenly found himself fighting for his life. He kept telling himself that this wasn't a dream, that there was no reason he shouldn't win. After all he'd killed two Slayers, and although he'd never killed Buffy, she'd never killed him either and she was the best Slayer there was.

He began to regain his footing then. Blocking her blows, and getting in a few of his own. He was Spike after all, and she was just another Slayer, dreams or no dreams.

Still she was a creepy bird. She never said a word, despite his best attempts in engage her in the traditional fight banter, only growled at him. There was something savage, and primitive about her. Something familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.

Just when he was really getting into the fight, he heard the screeching of tires and both he and the Slayer were forced to jump backwards as the black sports car nearly ran them both over.

The passenger door opened, and a familiar hand grabbed Spike and pulled him in. Spike was sticking half in half out of the car by the time Angel bothered to bark at him, "GET IN!"

Spike struggled against the older vampire's grip. "I was doing just fine," he protested.

Just then the Slayer smashed her fist into Angel's window. The glass cracked but held. Necroplast was strong stuff. After all it wouldn't do for a stray pebble or bird to crack it and for the boss to go up in flames. Even so it wouldn't take many more blows from the Slayer to smash it completely.

Angel let go of Spike just long enough to throw the car in reverse, and then he was speeding out of the alley. Spike had no choice but to finish pulling his body into the car, at least if he didn't want to roll about that pavement at high speeds.

"Don't worry, tactical is on its way," Angel told him as if he'd come to Spike's rescue.

"What's the bloody idea?" Spike whined. "I was winning. And by the time tactical gets here she'll be long gone."

"Look, Spike," Angel explained patiently. "You don't know what you're dealing with here. She's not possessed. She's-"

"A Slayer. I know," Spike told his grand-sire smugly. "Took you long enough to figure it out. Now turn this car around so we can go find the crazy bint."

"You're crazier than she is. She's a Slayer remember, as in vampire. We're the last two people who should be trying to capture her."

"Not all of us deal with Slayer's by running away," Spike said, hoping Angel would pick up on his double meaning. But then knowing how dense Angel was, Spike figured his subtlety would be lost. "I killed two of them, remember?"

"You mean murdered," Angel corrected.

"Well, yeah. I didn't have a soul then, now did I? The point is, this is my job now, and you should let me do it."

"This is not-" Angel was interrupted by the ringing of the car phone. "Angel?" he answered. "Right. Thanks. Make sure everyone's in the conference room. Bye." Angel hung up. "Tactical couldn't find her."

"Imagine that!" Spike said sarcastically.

Angel ignored him. "Wesley's calling Rupert Giles." Spike rolled his eyes. As if he didn't know who Rupert was. Not like he hadn't lived with the bloke and been chained in his bathtub. "To send someone to help us deal with this."

Spike gave up. He figured once they got to Wolfram & Hart he could lose Angel in the cubicles. To bad the trail would be cold by the time Spike was able to hit the streets again.

So he ignored Angel and got lost in his thoughts. Like why he dreamed about this Slayer before he'd ever seen her. That unnerved him. He'd disliked his dreams enough when they'd been simple nightmares. Now the seemed to be full of omens and portents. But why? Maybe he could ask the ex-Watcher, after all, Spike was willing to bet that neither Wesley nor Gunn had ever told Angel about their attempt to recruit him. Wesley might be willing to keep this from Angel too. At least until they knew what it meant.

Maybe it had something to do with all that Shanshu bugaboo. Maybe the Powers were going to cut out Doyle as a middle man, and send the visions straight to Spike. He didn't really like that idea. The dreams weren't pleasant, and Doyle's visions seemed to be accompanied by headaches which reminded Spike of when he'd had the chip. He'd be much happier if people would just stop trying to stick things in his head, even if they were just dreams.





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