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A/N: Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews I got for this fic. I was so happy. Keep em coming!



CHAPTER 17: Unpleasant slumber



Dawn walked Giles to the door. He was the last one to leave after helping her and Buffy tidy up the house and the backyard. Anya was already waiting for him in his car. The nurse hadn’t been shy about expressing her desire to leave. But Dawn didn’t take offense. After only a day spent in the woman‘s company, she‘d already gotten used to her bluntness and didn‘t mind it.


“Thanks so much for helping, Giles. And sorry for Buffy’s lack of manners. Not her fault, she’s a light weight.” The youngest of the Summers’ women said, grinning.


Giles chuckled, glancing at his boss who was snoring lightly on the couch by the front door. She was curled up on her side, knees drawn to her chest protectively, and she was fast asleep.


“I don’t blame her. She had a tough day. Being the hostess can be quite demanding. Tell her I enjoyed my evening and I said goodbye.”


“I will.”


“It was really nice meeting you, Dawn. You’re just as lovely as your sister said you were.”


Dawn laughed. “You’re sure that’s what she said about me?”


“Maybe not in those words, but that’s how I interpreted it.” He chuckled, winking playfully at the girl.”


“Well you’re really nice too, Giles. And surprisingly not too stuffy for a British guy.”


He snorted. “I can see a definite similarity with your sister. But I’ll take it as a compliment.”


“I’m glad Buffy has you at the prison. Faith and Willow too. Her job would really suck if you guys were not there.”


“Yes. I’m afraid the rest of the staff gives her a hard time.”


“Look after her, ok? She might look tough, but she’s a big softy.”


Giles smiled at Buffy’s overprotective sibling. “I will, Dawnie. Good night.”


“Good night, Giles!”


She watched as his car pulled out of the drive way, then turned to her sleeping sister. She covered her with the afghan then went back to the kitchen to finish putting the dishes away, leaving Buffy alone in her dream world.


Buffy was tossing and turning restlessly on her bed. It was hot as hell and she wondered briefly what happened to the air conditioning. She pushed the covers back from her sweaty body, trying to get comfortable.


She felt very alone in the huge bed, despite the presence in the corner of the room. She couldn’t really focus, but she knew it was there. And it felt dark and evil. She knew she should be paying attention, should be trying to find out what, or who, it was, but it didn’t seem to matter. At least not at this moment. Right now, all she could think of was him. Spike. She needed him. Her entire body was craving him, her soul was calling to him.


She closed her eyes, trying to find some peace, but sleep was elusive; an unreachable goal. When she felt the bed shifting under someone’s weight, and a body hovering above hers, it felt like a soothing caress on her tensed nerves. She sighed in relief, knowing that everything would be all right. He was there. Spike.


“How did you get here?” She whispered to the man above her, her eyes still closed.


“Does it really matter?”


She finally looked at him, and couldn’t help the smile blooming on her lips. “No. I guess not. It’s just… I thought this would never happen.”


His hands on both sides of her head to support his weight, Spike lowered himself to nuzzle her soft cheek. “I thought so too. But either there’s a God up there looking out for us, or this is a dream. I like the first option better, personally.”


She ran her fingertips along his cheekbone, slowly down to his chin, admiring how beautiful he was in the moonlight. “I like the first option better too. If it’s a dream, I don’t want to know.”


He lowered his lips to hers, agonizingly slowly. His eyes were dark with desire, the blue almost black. She could easily get lost in his eyes, but there were things more urgent right now. Tasting his lips came to mind, undressing him being a close second.


Her hands moved on their own volition, finding the hem of his shirt while his lips were caressing hers. The weight of his body pressing her into the mattress was driving her wild with desire.


She had been waiting for this, had been wanting him to make love to her since the day they’d met. Waiting for the right moment had been torture, but it was finally happening and she didn’t want to delay anymore.


Lacking the patience to fumble with the buttons of his shirt, she pulled it over his head, revealing his perfect torso to her hungry gaze. He was so gorgeous that she could spend hours just looking at him without getting bored.


“God, Spike. Never in my life has someone had this effect on me. Want you so much, you have no idea.”


He knelt in order to get rid of his confining jeans. He took his time undoing his belt buckle and lowering his zipper. Buffy whimpered in protest, her patience wearing thin, but he merely smiled at her, one of those sexy smirks he was so good at. It made her blood boil in her veins. Once he was free of his jeans and completely naked, he took a moment to let his eyes travel over her naked body.


“You’re even more bloody perfect than I thought you could possibly be.”


Spike ghosted a finger over her flat stomach, her ribs, and circled one of her rosy nipples. “Buffy? I wanted so much to make this the perfect moment, but I don’t think I can wait, luv. Want you too bloody much.”


“It’s all right. I can’t wait either. Maybe you can take a rain check on the foreplay. I want you.”


She seemed fascinated by his erection, only taking her eyes off of it briefly to look at his face. The sight of her pink tongue darting out to moisten her lips shattered any self control Spike had. He lay back on top of her and she parted her legs for him, allowing his hips to rest between them.


Buffy couldn’t remember why she’d been so obsessed with waiting for the right moment and place. Any moment was amazing as long as Spike was there with her. She knew that now. In fact, she wasn’t even sure of where they were right now, couldn’t seem to remember. The place didn’t matter. What did matter was what Spike was doing to her with his hands and lips, making everything around them dim. All that was left, all she could see, was him.


She was vaguely aware of the presence with them in the room, but couldn’t bring herself to care. Somehow, Buffy knew she was in danger, but she wouldn’t hesitate to risk her life to be with him. To make sure he was free and safe in her arms.


She frowned at the strange thought. **He IS here, free and safe in my arms. Where the hell did that come from?**


She didn’t know how, wasn’t even sure if it was real, but it didn’t really matter right now. He was there with her. The prison was nothing but a bad memory that she eagerly pushed to the back of her subconscious.


“Spike,” She whimpered. “I thought you said no foreplay? Please… Need you. Now.”


He smiled against her neck. “Sorry, kitten. You just feel so good under my hands. I can’t stop touching you. Your skin… It’s like silk. Warm, vanilla scented silk. Can’t get enough of you.”


Spike shifted his hips until the head of his cock pressing against her swollen sex was entering her. He took his time, pushing agonizingly slowly inside of her. He wanted to enjoy the feel of her soothing warmth surrounding his aching erection.


With every inch of him filling her, her loneliness of the past couple of years receded; warmth replacing cold. She wasn’t empty anymore, he was with her.


He pushed all the way inside of her until his pelvis was pressed against hers. They stilled, trying to catch their breath and come to grip with the overwhelming pleasure they were giving each other.


They started moving as one, letting their bodies lead, letting their instincts tell them exactly what the other needed. Logical thoughts were banned from their minds and no coherent words passed their lips. But somehow, they understood the meaning of every single word, pant, groan and whimper.


Buffy saw the figure moving from where it was hiding in the shadow. She knew she should be scared, but she couldn’t bring herself to be. She should at least warn Spike, but when she opened her mouth to speak, the only thing that came out what a pleasure filled moan. So she forgot about it and concentrated on Spike’s hard cock moving in and out of her with an almost hypnotizing rhythm.


But it all came to a halt in the most brutal way possible.


It seemed to Buffy that everything happened at once. Realizing the figure was Darla, seeing the blade of the knife coming out of Spike’s chest when the other blonde woman standing behind him stabbed him in the back, feeling his blood dripping on her naked torso. Her eyes widened in absolute horror. But Spike just stared in shock at his blood slowly pooling on her stomach. He didn’t seem to be in any pain though.


Buffy was.


She could feel the bite of the knife as if she was the one who had been stabbed.


Buffy screamed.


Dawn rushed to her side, dishcloth still in her hands, eyes bulging out.


“My God! Are you ok?”


“Spike,” Buffy mumbled sleepily, still not completely awake. “He’s hurt. Oh God…”


“Buffy? Hello, earth to Buffy! It was a dream.”


“Huh?” She looked at Dawn as if she just noticed she was there. “Oh. Right.”


The blonde woman took a deep breath, trying to stop the shivering. “A dream, of course.”


“You’re lucky you didn’t wake up mom with your screaming.”


“Right. Mom.” She shook her head, trying to put some order in her thoughts. “Is everybody gone? What time is it?”


“Buff, you should go to bed. It’s really late. Try to rest. That Spike thing is really getting to you.”


Buffy got up and made her way to her bedroom. “Yeah… I guess it is.”


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On the other side of town, Spike was sleeping too, his dream equally gruesome and disturbing.


William looked around himself, a little disoriented at first, but it didn‘t last. He recognized the place. In fact, he knew it very well since it was the mansion that had been witness to most of the main events of his childhood. The family house that he had shared with his mother and father near Brighton in his native England.


He frowned, taking in his surroundings. He was apparently in the room where his father, Ethan, entertained his guests. Mostly business partners and some old friends. Back in 1790, when the house had been built, this room had been reserved exclusively for the gentlemen and women were not allowed in it. Now in the 20th century, these rules didn’t apply anymore, but pretentious as he was, Ethan liked to maintain traditions. It made him feel somewhat higher in the ranks of society instead of the ‘nouveau riche’ that he really was. The only woman to ever come in this room was William’s mother, Cecily. He liked the room. It was at ground level and had a wonderful view of the garden, the windows going from floor to ceiling, velvet curtains on either side. The room was incredibly large, with leather couches and armchairs, and a wall entirely covered with books that neither Ethan nor Cecily had ever read. It was all for show. Everything in their lives was to try to impress.


William was sitting by the open window, looking outside. He had always felt oppressed in this house. At least when he was a child, he’d been able to escape every time he had a chance to go write his poems under his tree. But now, he was trapped in the house and knew that if he tried, he wouldn’t be able to leave. He had no idea why he was back in this house that he and his father had left behind so many years ago, but he didn’t like it. He felt like a prisoner in this place, a feeling he was quite used to by now.


He looked around. He knew he wasn’t alone in the room and wanted to see who it was. That’s when he spotted his mother sitting at the antic desk at the other end of the room. His father standing behind her had his arm around her waist and was nibbling on her neck. He knew it wasn’t them, mainly because instead of the brown curls of his mother, the woman’s hair was light blonde, and his father looked taller, his shoulders broader, hair darker. Darla and Angel. It was confusing, but to him, they were still Cecily and Ethan.


He knew his mother was probably going through the list of guests for one of her social gathering. Something she did quite often. Entertaining the elite of society was her main activity. Always trying to outdo herself in order to dazzle them. So the scene wasn’t unfamiliar to William. The only detail that was out of place was the gun sitting on the desk next to her, and the fact that he was trapped in the room. A chill ran up and down his spine, giving him a cold sweat.


A light knock on the frame of the open window made him jump. His eyes widened when he saw the young woman standing outside. Buffy.


“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” He whispered urgently. “It’s not safe!”


“I’m here for you, William. I want to help you get out of this place.”


“Buffy, you have to leave now. If they ever see you, know that you have anything to do with me, they’ll kill you.”


She gave him a comforting smile. “Don’t worry about me; I can take care of myself. I just can’t leave you in there all alone. I know what they did to you. I know they put you there…”


“Yeah, but if you get involved in my problems, you’ll end up dead. I’d rather stay here for the rest of my life and know that you’re safe, pet.”


Buffy frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t just sit back and do nothing. I told you, it’s not my style. Now stop this and come with me before they hear us.”


“No!” He said, his voice a little louder now. “I want you to leave, now. Please. They did it once, they’ll do it again. I know it. Please go...”


He didn’t have to turn to know that they were standing behind him.


“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Our boy has a new lady friend, Ethan. Isn’t she darling?”


William turned and looked up at his mother who was wearing Darla’s emotionless face.


“Indeed, my love. She is quite pretty. She’ll be even more fun than Drusilla, don’t you think.”


William turned panicked eyes to Buffy who had already taken a step back.


“Run!”


She tried to get away, but Darla got her before she could go very far, the shot echoing in William’s ears. He watched helplessly as her body fell to the ground.


Spike screamed.


One of the guards stopped in front of his cell. “Hey! Quiet in there. You’re gonna wake everybody.”


Spike listen at the guard’s foot steps as he walked away, trying to calm his racing heart. Just a dream. It was just a dream…


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