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Strange Times by Zoya
 
Dream a little dream
 
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"Stupid bint! I wasn't even feedin'! Not a bloody lick!" Spike raged as he paced in his crypt, taking hearty gulps from the bottle he was waving around. "Bitch can't even be bloody decent about it! Disgusting! She calls me disgusting!"

Here he had been trying to help her fight the Troll that Red and the ex-demon bint had summoned, and she didn't have the decency to be the least bit appreciative of his restraint around so much blood. Spike gulped down the rest of his scotch, then looked at it, as if surprised it was empty. "Bloody Bitch!" He yelled, throwing the bottle against the far wall with a smash. He stood for a moment, then grabbed his duster. "Time for a spot of violence."

---

Buffy sat up long after Giles had left and her mother had gone to bed. The fact that the Council didn't know anything about Glory had only added to her stress. Riley, Dawn, her mother. She had so many people to care for, so many to look after. God, the troll. If they weren't needing protection from outside forces, the Scoobies worked real hard to create new, and exciting threats all by themselves.

"And Spike! Thinks I should be impressed he wasn't feeding off of disaster victims!" she muttered, vocalizing her internal ranting. "That's so, so gross! And, he copped a feel when the troll threw me on him! Disgusting pig!" She shivered, remembering his hands. "Disgusting!" she said insistently. Suddenly, sore as she was, Buffy felt the need to go do some major slayage.

Grabbing her coat, she headed out for the nearest cemetery. As she walked, her mind turned yet again to Riley. Seeing him in that house, that strung out looking vamp-whore sucking on him. What the hell had her sire done, turned a crack whore? That was a whole new level of creepy. The wrecked, disgusting house, vamps and humans strewn about like refuse. She couldn't understand why anyone would want to be bitten by a vamp. She had been bitten, and she hadn't enjoyed it, certainly not from the Master. And Angel had been feral when he had bitten her, driven mad from poison. Neither one had been particularly pleasant.

Then there was Dracula. His bite had been different, very different. And Riley had said it was like he getting was revenge for letting Angel and Dracula bite her. "I was under his thrall!" Buffy told herself firmly. "I didn't enjoy that! There's no way I'd want to be bitten by a disgusting, eurotrash." Her voice faltered a bit, "with a nice body, deep blue eyes..." Somehow, though, the blue eyes she imagined weren't Dracula's. She shook her head. "Ew! What am I saying?!"

Obviously, there had been no reason for Riley to go to that damn vamp. At least Dracula had hypnotized her. "Stupid Jerk," she muttered.

Buffy pushed onwards, itching for a fight when she heard voices from amongst the tombstones ahead. As she came closer, she recognized Spike's voice. She ducked behind a tree, not wanting to deal with that particular menace.

Buffy watched from her hiding spot as Spike thrashed the two vamps. She couldn't help but be a little impressed by Spike's fighting. It was brutal, but then Spike usually was. As he ducked and dodged in the moonlight, she edged closer to hear what he was saying.

---

"Bleedin'! Stupid! Bitch!" Spike growled, punctuating each word with a punch to the face of a very unfortunate fledgling. "All that blood, all around me!" He threw the fledge headfirst into a tombstone, where it slumped into unconciousness. "I could have just taken it, it was just going to waste anyways!"

Whirling, he turned to face his other opponent. "I didn't even take a taste! Not one!" A vicious kick to the midsection doubled over the vamp, and Spike grabbed his collar. Pulling the vamp up face to face, he snarled "Tell me you could have done that! Tell me you could have resisted all the blood flowing freely!"

"No, man, no!" The fledge was waving his arms frantically. "I would have drank all the blood I could! Sounds like a feast, if you ask me!" Spike smiled wistfully, dropping the vamp.

"Oh, it should have been. It should have been a grand feast." He said, standing over the badly beaten vampire. "But I didn't. Not even a drop. Because of her." Finally the stake came down, and the vamp was dust.

"And it wasn't good enough for her," Spike finished quietly as he rose, dusting off his hands. Turning to look at the other, still unconcious vamp, he threw his stake, dusting it. "It's never going to be good enough for her."

Buffy stood frozen in place, Spike's last words stunning her. "It's never going to be good enough for her." What the hell did that mean?! She stood transfixed, watching him.

"Good enough for what?" She asked herself under her breath. Spike's head rose, and she ducked further into the shadows. He was looking right toward the tree she crouched behind. She panicked, praying that he wouldn't sense her presence. She had kept a decent distance from him, at least 100 feet. 'Please don't find me, please don't find me' she repeated in her head, over and over.

Gathering her courage, she peeked around the tree again just in time to see Spike walking away in the other direction. Letting out a sigh of relief, she started in the opposite direction. She finally found a few vamps to dust, but they were so pathetic that the quick fight did nothing to calm her nerves. Reluctantly, she turned towards home, trying not to think about what Spike had said, failing miserably.

---

"Here endeth the lesson." Spike began to turn away, then stopped. "I just wonder if you'll like it as much as she did," he said, giving her an appraising glance.

Buffy felt her skin flush red at that. She was still reeling from Spike's lessons about how he had killed two Slayers before her. His narrative brought forth memories from her Slayer self, deeply buried somewhere within her. She felt his hands on her neck, felt the adrenaline of the dance pumping through her veins. She had looked up into his dark gaze in the split second before he twisted her neck and killed the previous Slayer. Did she want death?

She looked at him, met that same dark gaze. "Get out of my sight, Spike." Her voice was rough with primal emotions, lust and fear, fighting and death. "Now." She had to make him leave, had to get far away from him. Something deep within her wanted to dance with him again, and she knew she wanted to feel his hands upon her again. How was he so right? How did he know what was within her? Never before had she felt this raw desire for death and bloodshed.

He leaned towards her. "Oh, did I scare ya?" He taunted her, his voice low and husky. "You're the Slayer, do something about it and hit me." She trembled under his intense gaze, her fist itching. "Come on, one good swing, you know you want to." His bit of cocky swagger made her flush hot, and she struck, her blow sending him flying onto his back. She was straddling him in a flash, stake poised over his heart.

"So is this it, then? Is this the death I need in my diet, Spike?" She breathed heavily, realizing that she was directly on top of his rather large, obvious erection.

He leered at her, rubbing himself against her hot center. "I think a little death is just what you need, luv."

Buffy gasped, unable to stop herself as he pushed against her, her eyes closing in pleasure. Lightning fast, Spike grabbed her wrists, and flipped them over. She struggled in that second against him, but he held her tight, pinning her arms above her head. He was hard between her thighs, and she moaned, feeling another wave of heat at their intimate contact.

"I think you want more lessons." In game face, he lowered his mouth to her ear, his cool lips barely brushing it. "Naughty Slayer," he whispered softly in her ear. "Do you want to learn about death, dear girl? Do you want to learn what I can teach you?"

She shivered at his dark words, and nodded, too hot to think.

He rubbed harder against her, tightening his grip on her wrists. "Say it, Slayer. Ask me to teach you."

"Teach me, Spike. Teach me about death," she asked softly, her voice dripping with desire.

He searched her eyes for a minute longer, then lowered his mouth to her neck. She felt his lips brush her neck, then his cool tongue caressed her pulse point. Then his fangs sliced into her, and all she felt was pleasure.


"Buffy! BUFFY!" She awoke to yelling and banging on her door. Groggily, the slayer rose and opened her door.

"What is it, Dawn?" She groaned, half awake. "What do you want?"

"Well, you were yelling," stammered Dawn. "I thought you were in pain or something. I guess you're okay. Did you have a bad dream?"

The dream came back to the elder Summers sister in an instant, and she had to duck her head to hid her blush. "Yeah, Dawnie, it was a bad dream. Sorry to scare you like that."

"Oh, okay then" Dawn said, and headed down the stairs.

Buffy closed the door, then leaned against it. "What the hell was that?" she asked herself. That certainly wasn't how that little encounter had gone between her and Spike. She had left him on his ass in the alley, told him he was beneath her. She certainly hadn't been against his hard, cool body, nor had she felt the exquisite pleasure of his fangs in her-- "Exquisite pleasure?" She asked outloud. "Where the hell did that come from?" And why, she thought to herself, did I like it so much?

"Oh god!" She said with an anguished groan. "No, no, no! This is so not happening!"
 
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