Dreams of Forever
Chapter 3

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: A big thank you to blacknblue and Marzbar for their continued help in betaing. I’m working on a Halloween one-shot that I’ll hopefully get done and betaed in time *crosses fingers* But with beta problems I got discouraged for a bit.

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Spike paced the room, a tumultuous jumble of emotions. The reigning emotion was confusion. What was he to do now? Somehow, it didn’t seem an option to beat the soul out of her. That seemed more of Angelus’ thing. It was not Spike’s style and regardless of this revelation, she was still his childe. The way he saw it, he had a responsibility to her. She was his first childe and his inner William insisted he have some honor.

He stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Buffy, who was looking right back at him with narrowed, calculating eyes. She had yet to move from her position on the floor, not sure what to make of his sudden silence.

The room was closing in on him. He couldn’t think in there. He needed to go out, find himself a good stiff drink. He needed to go think by himself.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t just leave his feisty childe here by herself. She would take off running the moment he turned his back; he wasn’t too naive to get that. So, what was he going to do with her while he was gone? He wasn’t about to take her with him.

Then an idea came to him and he pointed a finger at her with a stern look.

“I’m goin’ out to the car to get somethin’. I won’t be but a couple minutes and right outside the only door; so don’t be gettin’ any ideas.”

He straightened his duster and walked out to the DeSoto, popping the trunk open. There were chains in there that he used to use on Drusilla when she was having a bad spell, or when they just wanted that sort of fun. Right now, they would come in handy for keeping the former slayer from getting away.

~*~

Buffy moved over to the window after a few moments, curious to see what he was doing. Also, she wanted to see if he was really just outside. What she saw was Spike pulling chains out from his trunk. Alarm rang through her and all thoughts of playing along until she had lulled him into a false sense of trust immediately fled. The fight or flight response was in full force as she decided it was time to get out of there before he made use of those chains.

After a quick glance around, she grabbed a wad of cash off the dresser then dashed for the door. When she jerked it open, it was to Spike in full game face, growling angrily at her. Most likely, he had sensed her alarm through the Sire-Childe bond and rushed back to the room when he correctly assumed what she had been about to do.

“I thought I told you to stay put, kitten,” he ground out with a hint of deceptive sweetness. He stepped into the room, forcing her back. “You really don’t want to see me when I stop bein’ nice.”

“What are the chains for?” she asked boldly, choosing to ignore the not-so-veiled threat.

“I need a drink, which means I got to go out – without you.” He purposefully didn’t elaborate about the drink, not caring if she assumed he was about to go feed. Maybe he would. He gave a dark chuckle and nodded towards the door, saying, “And as you just proved, I can’t rightly just leave you here and expect you to be here when I get back.”

“You can’t just chain me up for who knows how long.”

Her eyes had widened slightly again. She started backing up further, but he grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the bed. The chains were still clutched in his other hand. He forced her down despite her struggles with a knee across her chest just below her neck. Wrestling her arms into place, he was eventually able to get her wrists secured above her head. With that done, he took an unneeded breath, watching her also indignantly huffing large puffs of air indignantly.

“Now, be a good girl and some day we won’t have to do this,” he told her as he got back to his feet again. “And if you prove to not be as annoyin’ as I think you’d be, I might even take you with me.”

“I’d rather drink holy water,” she muttered.

He leaned in close. “I can arrange that.”

“The minute you leave, I’ll start screaming until someone comes to help me.” She gave him a sly smirk, not intimidated by him in the least.

“Thanks for remindin’ me, pet.”

Turning about, he spotted her old clothes on the floor, discarded when he gave her the makeover. He grabbed them up and returned to her side to shove the panties in her mouth. He gave her a cocky grin and bent to press a kiss to her lips before tearing her old shirt into strips so he could tie the gag in place.

“You’re such a good childe.”

He left the room, laughing at his own joke. She still protested, muffled by the gag, but he just ignored her even though she was sure his vampiric hearing picked up everything. When the door shut with an air of finality, she kicked at the bed angrily, giving into the urge to have a tantrum at her situation. *Damn me for opening my big mouth!*

~*~

Spike’s mood was back to sour as he paced the streets in search of a place to get himself pissed. It had been some time since he had found himself in this city and he hoped at least some of the old demon bars were still about.

Besides a good drink, he needed to start putting out the word that he, William the Bloody, a.k.a. Spike, had turned himself a slayer and in the process bagged his third. It would serve to up his status in the demon community while hopefully shaking out some information on turned slayers from the grapevine. Undoubtedly, someone was sure to mention if it had been done before.

The plan went by the wayside like many of his plans tended to do. Sure, he was able to get a bit of bragging done before he got too drunk to remember why he was in the bar. Then he was thrown out of one bar and went on to another, only to be thrown out again.

That was how he ended up in the graveyard surrounded by a near mountain of empty bottles.

Once the alcohol started affecting him, it came back to him that he hadn’t had much time to grieve Drusilla before the familial call came. Then it had been a sort of whirlwind, getting to Sunnydale only to stumble across a vamped slayer then running back out of town with his new childe.

The emotional vampire slumped against a headstone, alternating between tears and rage. He wasn’t sure who he was angry with: Buffy for having a soul, him for maybe having thought to use Buffy as a replacement for Drusilla, or whatever powers for dashing his hopes of Buffy replacing Drusilla.

Once again, despair rose up in him at what he was going to do now that he was stuck with a souled childe. Perhaps to some extent she would turn out to be a replacement for Drusilla in that he would probably end up taking care of her, too. Some part of him wasn’t allowing for the possibility of just dumping her off somewhere, not with all the trouble she might be in. Surely, the watchers’ council would make sure to take care of this loose end once they heard about it. The Master would be after her and sending his minions. Then who knows what other dangerous people would be after her for being what she was.

He let out a ragged breath. As her sire, he had a duty to teach her to be a vampire, and he had a duty to look out for her. Even if many vampires didn’t take that seriously, for some reason *his* demon was. Part of him was suspicious that his inner William might have something to do with it as well. *The pillock is a sucker for a pretty face; always was.*

He dropped the empty bottle and started digging around, hoping there was another bottle he hadn’t used up yet. No luck. He pulled himself to his feet and decided to make his way back to the hotel, seeing as it wasn’t long until sunrise.

Upon reaching the room, he stumbled to the bed and collapsed without even making the effort to remove his duster. The only notice he took of the lump in the middle of the bed was to throw his arm and leg over it before passing out.

~*~

Buffy was glaring at the ceiling after trying shift to get a little relief only to have the wino curled around her just pull her tight against him again. And *ew*, that so better not be what she thought was pressed against her thigh, hard and *oh my god, he can’t seriously be that big*.

She tried to wiggle again and this time he let out a groan before starting to thrust against her leg.

*No, doggy! Bad, doggy!!*

She kept wiggling to get away, but this only served to provoke more of the same response from the sleeping vampire. She tried to force herself to keep still, hoping he would go back to sleep and stop humping her leg like a rabid spaniel. For a moment, it seemed like it had worked until he slipped his cool hand under her top to grasp her breast.

“Mmm, Buffy…” he groaned into her neck.

She fought the bolts of electricity that shot through her, not sure she wanted to wait to see what he was going to do next. Deciding to give it a shot, she started screaming through the gag in her mouth, trying to wake him up before this went too far.

A kiss was pressed to her neck and she stilled, momentarily thinking he was still doing his sleep molestation.

“Knew I could make you scream, pet,” he said and gave a chuckle that rumbled through his chest.

She turned her head sharply to glare at him. She briefly wondered if he had been awake all along; she couldn’t be sure.

He plucked the panties from her mouth finally and tossed them over his shoulder. “There, I can clearly hear your sounds of pleasure now.”

“You pig! Were you awake the whole time?” she demanded angrily.

“The whole time?” He quirked a brow. “And just what was I doin’ that got you riled up?”

Her eyes widened. He *had* been asleep. Then she narrowed them coolly again. “Nothing.”

“Nothin’, eh?” He smirked at her. “Nothin’ wouldn’t make you scream like that.”

She scowled even more then asked pointedly. “First, tell me what you were dreaming about and I’ll tell you why I screamed.”

He misunderstood for a moment. “You saw the dream?”

He took the pointed tone to mean she knew but wanted him to voice it out loud for his embarrassment. He nearly panicked at the thought that their Sire-Childe bond might be strong enough that she had seen the *very* graphic dream.

“No, and that’s probably a good thing. I have no wish to see inside your head,” she replied with disgust.

He was relieved she hadn’t witnessed the dream, but at the same time angered by the insult. He ground out, “Then why would you want to know ‘bout the dream?”

“Fine, just forget about it and me screaming.” She sighed and shifted a bit in another vain attempt at getting comfortable. “Now that you’re back and reasonably sober, I don’t think we need these chains anymore. Can you please unchain me so I can sleep comfortably?”

“Tell me why you screamed,” he persisted in a velvet tone, leaning in close.

“Tell me what you were dreaming about.”

They locked gazes in a stand-off. Neither was willing to back down. Both wanted to win and weren’t willing to give any ground. They were practically nose to nose, electricity virtually arching between them.

Their lips came crashing together and the stand-off ended. Buffy strained against her bonds to lean into him while Spike’s hand slipped back under her top. He resumed groping her breast, throwing a leg over her thighs and grinding his erection into her. He moved his mouth down to bite at her neck with blunt teeth.

“Please, unchain me,” Buffy gasped once she could speak.

He moved to fully straddle her before sitting up to look down at her. “I quite like seein’ you like this, though. But, I’d hate to have to ruin the clothes I just bought for you if I tried to undress you like this.”

“I kiss you and you think you can boink me?” She lifted her chin stubbornly. “Man, give a guy an inch.”

“I can smell your arousal, pet. And if you were better at usin’ your vampire senses, you’d smell it, too.” He inhaled deeply for emphasis with eyes closed in ecstasy.

“That is *so* gross.”

“No, it’s bloody wonderful, it is.” He ran his hands up her arms to rest on her bound wrists. “I think I can be a bit generous and unchain you. You’ll remember this bit of niceness later, yeah?”

Her lips pressed together for a moment before sighing. “Yeah.”

“Look,” Spike said tiredly, not fooled by her ready acceptance. Even after only a couple days, he knew her too well. “I’m your Sire and whether you like to believe it or not, I’m takin’ my responsibility to you seriously. I’m even willin’ to work with you about the feedin’. So now I ask you, what other s’posed evil, soulless vampire would be willin’ to do that?”

Buffy swallowed hard as she looked up into his serious eyes. “I – I...well...”

“Don’t get me wrong, though,” he said while unchaining her, setting the chains in the chair beside the bed. “I’m not goin’ soft and you give me reason to, I’ll stop bein’ so nice with you, got it?”

She nodded mutely. She wasn’t sure what to make of his little speech. Did she believe him? Why would a soulless vampire be acting that nice towards her? To get in her pants? Or was it really because he felt responsible for her as her Sire? She would just have to wait and see, making sure not to let her guard down too far.

He was rubbing her wrists where she had faint red marks from the chains. She found the action strangely sweet. She told herself to snap out of it and stop letting herself forget what he was.

“Tonight we’ll see about gettin’ you some nosh.” He laid back down beside her, taking back up his position entwined with her. “For now, we got ourselves several more hours of daylight to sleep away.”

Buffy did her best to relax, unsure what to do with her arms now that they weren’t chained above her head. She reluctantly rested an arm across his waist, telling herself it was just because it was the comfortable thing to do. No way did she want to cuddle up to a soulless killer. Nope. Not her.