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Dreams of Forever by DarkBloodyMistress
 
Chapter Two
 
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Dreams of Forever
Chapter 2


Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS or anything else of the sort, no matter how cool it would be to own Spike. Only the plot and any original characters are mine.

Summary: Set in the episode “Nightmares”, Buffy crawls out of the grave and the first thing she encounters as a newly risen vampire is a certain bleached blonde. What will Spike do with his interesting gift? And what chaos will happen in the wake of these events?

Author’s Note: Sorry this update took so long and I don’t see updates being too frequent between me having classes and work, as well as my lovely betas having their own lives, too.

A big thanks to my betas Marzbar, 2zen2, blacknblue, and especially Stephanie. And thanks to Niamh for her support.




Inside the Sunnydale High library, the watcher was finishing the newest entry into his journal regarding the recent bout of nightmares coming to life to attack people. It had taken awhile, but eventually, with the help of Xander and Willow, he had been able to figure out how to put a stop to the reign of terror.

What had become of Buffy, Giles knew not.

As it was, it seemed odd that she had not been with them to help stop the strange events. It was logical to conclude that the Slayer had been caught in her own nightmares; though he was at a loss to understand why she had not shown up or checked in with him once things had returned to normal. He, along with the two teens, had stumbled upon a grave marked as belonging to his young charge. The plot was little more than a hole in the ground, with signs that a fledgling vampire had dug its way from the dew-dampened earth.

His glasses came off as he flashed back to the horrific sight. He had assumed the scene to be a manifestation of one of his own worst nightmares: losing the young girl that was coming to be like a daughter to him. Even worse, that she would become one of the very creatures she hunted.

Perhaps his nightmare really had come true. The more time that went by without word from Buffy, the worse his fears became. He couldn’t call Mrs. Summers, not without raising suspicion in the woman. Although, if Buffy’s absence continued much longer, he might have to bite the bullet and call Mrs. Summers.

*BANG*

He was startled from his thoughts and turned towards the doors to the library, confused when he saw Angel. The loud alert of his presence was very uncharacteristic of the usually quiet vampire.

“How could you have let this happen?” Angel demanded without preamble.

“I assure you I have no idea what you are referring to.” Giles placed his glasses back on his nose and gave the vampire an irritated look.

“Buffy.” Angel let out an exasperated breath. “You let her get killed. Turned.”

That got the watcher’s attention. “She what? I was under the impression the grave I stumbled upon was part of the manifestation of my worst nightmares.”

“I can sense her as I would my own childer,” the dark-haired male ground out. Her signature was too faint, too removed for her to have been sired by Drusilla or Penn, or even Lawson. Which left only Spike. His wayward grandchilde enjoyed being an enormous pain in his ass. It would be just like William to go and do something like this. The cocky vampire prided himself on being the Slayer of Slayers and made a practice of seeking them out. It was logical that he would have gone after Buffy instead of answering the call sent out by the Master. Angel shared all this with the current Slayer’s watcher, doing his best to keep a tight rein on his tumultuous emotions.

“Spike?”

Angel glared at him, impatient with the stupid question. “Your books probably list him as William the Bloody,” was the ensouled vampire’s response.

“Good lord,” Giles gasped, indeed remembering what he had read about William the Bloody as he again whipped off his glasses to polish them.

It hit him full force. Buffy was dead. Undead. A vampire. Turned by one of the most notorious vampires in history and most likely going to follow in his footsteps. He forced himself not to release the strangled sob threatening to come out. He did not want to break down in front of Angel, especially when the git had come in blaming the watcher for this tragedy.

Giles opened his mouth to set Angel straight, but was interrupted by the phone’s ringing. He turned to give the blasted contraption a dirty look before answering it against his better instincts. Hopefully, Angel would slip out silently like usual.

“Rupert Giles speaking.”

“It’s Travers,” said a gruff voice and Giles instantly bristled. “We have become aware of the status of your slayer – former slayer. I can’t say I’m pleased with this, Rupert, but a prophecy *did* foretell of it. We thought it wouldn’t be this soon, though.” Travers paused for a moment. “Well, they don’t normally last long, do they?”

Giles was seething as he listened, but forced himself to hold his tongue.

“Regardless, we will be sending the newly called slayer to the Hellmouth. You should receive information on her as well as her flight information by fax within the next few days. I must say, this might be a good thing as this new girl is *much* better trained and should be less trouble.”

Giles’ teeth were grinding together and he was sure it had to be audible.

“Get some rest, Rupert. Our seers don’t foresee any trouble in the immediate future,” Travers continued, unaware of the effect of his words. “It would do well to do some training yourself. As we would like you to keep this one alive longer than the last, perhaps it would serve to have better control and more regimented training schedules with the new slayer.”

The phone line went dead moments before the receiver came crashing down on the counter.

~*~

Angel slipped out of the library halfway through the phone call, but not before hearing that there was a new slayer on the way. Maybe she would be the second chance at gaining redemption through helping her. *Hell, maybe Whistler had been mistaken when he had pointed out Buffy. Maybe it was supposed to be this new girl.*

It just had to be.

Still, if Spike knew what was good for him he would stay far away. Unless he wanted to become a pile of dust along with his new childe.

It should surprise him that he could so easily contemplate staking Buffy, but she wasn’t his Buffy anymore. She was a demon wearing Buffy’s skin and covered in Spike’s stink.

~*~

Buffy stood in front of the window, lifting a hand to finger a lock of her new hairstyle. It was a bit shorter with a shaggier cut and gelled to flip out a bit along with both highlights and darker shades streaked throughout. With her hand so near her face her eyes were drawn to the dark red – nearly black – nail polish. It went along with her dark make-up: heavy eyeliner and dark lipstick nearly the same color as the nails.

*Blegh, I’m not even thinking about the clothes he dressed me in. I hope he doesn’t expect me to dress like this all the time. I look all Vamp Ho Barbie. He better not expect me to keep this up.*

They had left the motel just before dark and driven all night, stopping to sleep for the day. As soon as it had gotten dark again, Spike had dragged her out into town with plans for his little makeover for her. First had been the hair salon then the whore clothes. The clothes he chose weren’t as scary as the fact that they had passed a tattoo parlor and he had actually paused, telling her that maybe later he would consider a tattoo or piercing for her.

The uncertainty of her fate was making her more and more anxious as time passed, which made for a not-so happy Slayer. She had no idea how long it would be until she could find an opportunity to get away from Spike. She had to bide her time until then. She needed to build up in strength, she mused while steadfastly avoiding any in-depth thought on what that would entail now that she was a vampire.

One good thing that could come from her new status was learning from her Sire how to deal with her new abilities and weaknesses. Learn the tricks of the trade, so to speak.

The vampire in question was suddenly behind her and she gave a start. She had been so lost in thought that she hadn’t sensed his approach.

“We’re goin’ out,” he said to get her attention. “You need nosh and I wouldn’t be a proper Sire if I didn’t teach you how to feed yourself.”

“I’m not hungry,” she lied, keeping herself turned away from him. Then she added flippantly, “But feel free to go out and get yourself something to-go.”

With a growl, he grabbed her by the arm and spun her around to face him. “I don’t think so, luv. You haven’t fed since I let you drink from me and the sooner you learn to hunt, the better.”

Spike started dragging her towards the door without waiting for acquiescence that was never going to come. Buffy was trying to dig her heels in and when that didn’t work she reversed her momentum towards him. Her fist came up, taking a swing at him.

Having felt her shift, he whirled around in time to duck her fist. Then he backhanded her hard, sending her bouncing off the bed to sprawl on the floor.

Everything was silent in the room except for the angry gasps of unneeded air coming from the former slayer. It galled her to no end that she wasn’t quite the terror of vampire-kind anymore, that she couldn’t easily get the upper hand with him by smacking him about. She lifted her head fractionally to glare up at him, eyes bleeding gold. Oh, the plan to simply escape had changed now and she was quite eager to feel a stake slide into his unbeating heart.

“Now c’mon, pet. So many hours left in the night,” he said, feigning nonchalance as he turned back towards the door.

“No.”

He turned back around quickly, astonishment openly written on his face. He had expected her to give in after he made it clear that he was not playing with her.

“Have you forgotten that little thing we did where I transferred soddin’ Sire’s rights to me?” His eyes narrowed on her. “I can make you do this if you don’t come along willingly.”

She lifted her chin in challenge. “Do it, but the first chance I get I’ll stake myself. I won’t murder people to give you jollies.”

He nearly choked with rage at her defiance. But, he went back to stunned as the words sank in. She had a problem with killing. He licked his lips, hoping he was wrong. *She couldn’t...No. That just wasn’t possible.*

“You have to feed.” He tilted his head and studied her face. “If you don’t, you’ll fade away and eventually dust. That’s if the hunger doesn’t make your demon go crazed and cause a bloody massacre.”

She looked down as she considered the rationale behind his words. She wasn’t afraid of dusting if she had to, just as she had threatened to do if he made her feed. Besides, she wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt of having killed someone. But, at the same time, refusing to feed was no guarantee of keeping someone’s blood off her hands – pardon the pun. She knew he was right, that she could become a revenant, a blood-crazed vampire, slashing a path of death down the western seaboard.

“I’ll...feed,” she finally said haltingly. “But...I’m not going to...kill them.” Then after a moment she suddenly had a thought and added, “And I don’t want you to do it with me there either. Actually, I wouldn’t like you to do it at all...but I guess I can’t stop you so just don’t do it with me. I don’t want to see it or know about it and would rather live in the land of blissful denial.”

Her responding ramble served to confirm his fear.

*She still has a bloody soul!*
 
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