Title: Dream Lover (4/8/06)

by: Slaymesofty

word count: 2631

rating: G or PG

A little ficlet that demanded to be written one night.  A short take on a possible reunion after the final battle with the Senior Partners.

 

 

Dream Lover

 

           She tossed in her bed, unaware of the eyes watching hungrily from her open window.  She moaned and writhed, then her breathing changed and she could be heard whimpering, ÒNo.  No.  Not now.  DonÕt leave me.Ó Her whispered words sent a cramp through the heart of the man watching her as she began to cry in her sleep.

 

              (I wonder what thatÕs all about? The big poof, I guess.  Word must have come back about the mess in LA and Angelus and the dragon.  Ah, donÕt cry, love.  We werenÕt worth it. Neither of us.)

 

             Awakened by her tears, the woman sat up and blinked, rubbing her eyes and grumbling to herself,  ÒYouÕd think this would have stopped by now.  ItÕs not like I havenÕt had plenty of time to get used to the idea that heÕs gone.Ó

 

              She gave a sigh and thought about turning on the light and reading for a while until she was ready to sleep again. Her eyes roamed the darkened room, idly searching for some sort of distraction from what had become a nightly occurrence. They had already slid past the window before she noticed the shadow hunched on the narrow ledge just outside.  Her gaze flickered back to the figure there, noting the bright head glowing in the moonlight. The shadow flinched, prepared to leap to the ground when her voice halted him.

 

             ÒOh great.  ItÕs not bad enough IÕm seeing you in my sleep, now youÕre showing up when IÕm awake.Ó

 

             Completely shocked and at a loss for words, all Spike could do was gape at her casual acceptance of his presence.  Had she been expecting him?  How did she even know he was alive?

 

             ÒWell, if youÕre going to keep me awake, you might as well do it from in here.  WhatÕs the idea of sitting out there anyway?  Usually I find you sitting on the bed, orÉwell, you know.Ó

 

              ÒBuffy?Ó  Nothing she was saying made any sense and he couldnÕt think of any way to reply.  ÒAre you inviting me in?Ó

 

               ÒYouÕre just another frickinÕ hallucination.  What do you need an invitation for?Ó

 

               ÒWould make me feel wanted, pet,Ó he said softly, beginning to understand her lack of surprise.

 

                ÒYouÕre NOT wanted.  I wanted to get some sleep tonight.  But, fine, if youÕre not going to let me sleep Ð come in, Spike.Ó  She threw herself down on the bed and glared at him.

 

               The vampire quickly slipped into the room, pulling a chair up near the bed and sitting where he could easily see her face.  The moonlight coming through the window was just enough for him to make out her features without using his vampire senses.  For minutes he just sat beside her bed, enjoying her nearness, the sound of her heartbeat, the unique scent that he would know until his last breath.  He could read the confusion in the puzzled eyes now staring at him.  When he didnÕt move or say anything, she sat up again and cocked her head at him.

 

             ÒWell, youÕre unusually quiet tonight.  WhatÕs up?Ó

 

              ÒAm I?Ó

 

              ÒYou know you are.  Well, okay, I know you are, causeÉyou know, my hallucination. YouÕre being all weird andÉand distant.  Why are you sitting over there?Ó

 

              ÒWhere am I usually, pet?Ó

 

              She looked at him as though he was insane. 

 

              ÒWhere do you think you usually are?  Why would I bother dreaming about you if all you were going to do is sit in a chair?Ó  She shook her head and muttered to herself,  ÒThis is crazy Ð IÕm arguing with an imaginary vampire about how heÕs supposed to behave.Ó

 

              Buffy rolled her eyes and flopped back down on the bed.  ÒMaybe Dawn and Giles are right.  Maybe I am letting this make me crazy.  You seem so real.Ó

 

             ÒDo me a favor, love?Ó His voice was soft and gentle, not at all like the Spike with whom she usually held her imaginary conversations.

 

              ÒSure.Ó  She waved a hand in the air.  ÒWhat do you want from me?Ó

 

              ÒI want you to pretend youÕre seeing me for the first time tonight. I want you to pretend weÕve never spoken since IÉsince Sunnydale.  Tell me all about your life.  Tell me whatÕs happened to you.  Tell meÉÓ He took a deep breath.  ÒTell me why you cry in your sleep.Ó

 

               ÒYou already know all this stuff,Ó she said sadly.  ÒYouÕve been here - usually when IÕm asleep - but youÕre here all the time. YouÕre the only one I can talk to aboutÉthings.Ó  Her eyes filled with tears.  ÒYouÕve always been the one I talk to. I guess thatÕs why I canÕt let you go.Ó  She gave a shaky laugh, ÒWho would I talk to if I stop dreaming about you?Ó

 

                SpikeÕs hands were gripping the chair so hard he could feel the wood beginning to crack under his fingers.  He wanted nothing more than to fling himself at the bed and bury his face in her neck while babbling apologies for not coming sooner, but fear kept him paralyzed.

 

            ÒCome on, pet,Ó he coaxed hoarsely, ÒPretend for me, please?Ó

 

            ÒWhat do you want to know?Ó she sighed wearily.

 

          ÒWell, for starters, why are you alone?  WhereÕs the immortal prick?Ó

 

          She cast a startled look at him before saying, ÒMorty?  HeÕs been gone for a long time.  Seems like his ego wasnÕt up to handling the idea that he isnÕt the most important man in my life.  Said he wasnÕt going to spend his time Ôplaying second fiddle to a ghostÕ and took a powder.Ó

 

 (Hah! Serves the ponce right!  Good riddance!)

 

        ÒIÕm sorry, love,Ó he said softly.

 

         Buffy flew upright. ÒAre you the First?Ó she demanded, picking up the lamp beside the bed and preparing to see if it would go though him.

 

          ÒWhat?  No! Ò He flinched back involuntarily.  ÒWhat makes you say that?Ó

 

           ÒBecause MY Spike wouldnÕt have been sorry.  HeÕd have said Ò Bloody good riddanceÓ or something like that.Ó

 

            ÒI was thinkinÕ it,Ó he mumbled quickly, prepared to duck if she followed through with the lamp.

 

            ÒOh.  Well, thatÕs more like it,Ó she responded quietly, putting the lamp back in its accustomed place.

 

           ÒSo, your Spike wouldnÕt be sorry if your boyfriend left you? He wouldnÕt care if you were unhappy?Ó

 

             ÒOh, he would care. But he wouldnÕt try to make me think he was sorry the boyfriend was gone.  HeÕd just be trying to convince me that he would be better for me; that he could make me happier.Ó  She whispered the last few words. ÒÉAnd he would be right.Ó

 

            He swore his heart almost started beating at her wistful statement.

 

            ÒSo, why isnÕt your Spike here, then?  With you, I mean.Ó

 

            ÒI wish I knewÉÓ Her eyes filled again.  ÒHe came back from being dusty and he never told meÉI guess you-he didnÕt want me anymore.  He let me think he was dead and then, when it turned out he wasnÕtÉHe was in LA.  With Angel!  What the hell was that about?Ó  She glared at the apparition staring at her with big eyes, as though expecting him to answer her rhetorical question.  To her surprise, he did.

 

                    ÒIt was complicated, love.  At first I was just a ghostie and stuck with being close to that amulet.  And then I wasÉI was a bloody coward, pet.  DidnÕt want to take a chance that you didnÕt meanÉBloody hell, Slayer, you were proud of me, yeah?  How was I gonna top that exit?Ó

 

                   ÒDidnÕt you care that I was grieving for you? Why didnÕt you come to me?Ó she asked angrily, forgetting that she was talking to a figment of her imagination.  ÒWhy didnÕt you call? You didnÕt have to be with me if you didnÕtÉdidnÕt want me anymore, but you could have let me know you were alive.Ó

 

                 ÒDidnÕt look to me like you were grievinÕ all that hard,Ó he growled.  ÒWhat with all the dancing and cavorting with the soddinÕ Immortal!Ó

 

                  ÒWhat do you mean, Ôit didnÕt look to youÕ?  How the hell would you know what it looked like?  You werenÕt there. Except in my dreams -- which put a pretty quick end to any chance of a long-term relationship with Morty.Ó

 

                  She was glaring at him, her breath coming harder and faster as anger over his words pushed away any sense of how ridiculous it was to be arguing with an imaginary vampire.   Apparently her imaginary vampire couldnÕt see the incongruity of the situation either as he glared right back at her.

 

                 ÒSaw it with my own two eyes, didnÕt I?  DancinÕ up a storm in a club.  Too wrapped up in what you were doinÕ to even notice that there were two master vampires in the room!Ó

 

             He glared back at her, the growl vibrating in his throat as he remembered how his joy at seeing her dancing and happy had faded when he realized she was with the Immortal.

 

              ÒOh my god!  You are so irritating!Ó  She stopped to consider what she was doing and rolled her eyes.  ÒIÕm fighting with a hallucination,Ó she sighed, lowering her voice.  ÒDawn is right. I AM going crazy.Ó

 

               ÒI miss fighting with you, Slayer,Ó he said with a grin that she could barely see in the dim light.  ÒWe should do it more often.Ó

 

               ÒI miss fighting with you, too,Ó she admitted in a quieter tone.  ÒI miss the fighting and the talking andÉI just miss you, Spike.  I miss you so much.Ó

 

             His breath caught in his throat when he heard the hitch in her voice.

 

            ÒIÕm right here, Buffy,Ó he said softly.

 

             ÒPlease donÕt,Ó she pleaded, her voice shaking. ÒI canÕt take this anymore. Seeing you every night and knowing youÕre not really ...not real.Ó

 

              ÒBuffyÑÒ

 

               ÒNo! No more!  I have to get over thisÉobsession.  You donÕt exist.  Spike is gone and thatÕs that.  He died with Angel in some big battle neither one of them saw fit to notify anybody about so we couldnÕt be there to help.Ó  Her voice got quiet again.  ÒI could have brought an army of Slayers with me.  He might have lived.  If someone has just told me he was aliveÉmaybe I could have saved himÉÓ

 

             She broke down in sobs, dropping her head into her hands as she allowed her grief to wash over her yet again.  At first the dipping of the mattress under his weight didnÕt register; then she felt familiar arms encircling her as she was pulled against a strong chest.  For a few brief seconds she allowed herself to believe he was really there, but then she straightened, saying firmly, ÒNo.  IÕm not going to do this to myself anymore.  YouÕre not here and letting myself imagine you are just makes it harder and harder to wake up.  ItÕs weak.  And IÕm not weak. IÕm the Slayer and I canÕt spend my life inside a hallucination.  You have to go away and stay away.Ó  She pushed feebly against his chest, surprised at the firmness and resistance there.

 

              She felt the tendrils of hair on her neck stirring as he murmured apologies into her ear. ÒI am so sorry, love.  If IÕd had any idea you wereÉdidnÕt think you would reallyÉI knew you cared, sweetheart, but I never thought you would reallyÉNever meant to cause you pain, Buffy.  You know I would cut off my own arm before I hurt you.  I just thoughtÉAngel said we should leave you alone to have a normal life, and IÉplease, love. Please say that you forgive me.Ó

 

                Buffy struggled against her senses, all of which were telling her that the arms around her were very real, that the familiar voice in her ear was real enough that she could feel the movement of his breath across her skin, that the tears she could feel against her cheek were not hers.  She made one last attempt to banish the vampire, sobbing into his neck, ÒYou have to leave me alone. I have to learn to live without you.  Please leave me.Ó

 

               She felt his head shaking ÒnoÓ.  ÒI canÕt do that, Buffy.  IÕm here and IÕm never leaving you again.  Will spend the rest of my life making this up to you, love. I swear it.  If I had thought for one second that youÉÓ He paused and pulled back just far enough to lift her chin and force her to meet his tear-filled eyes.   ÒI love you, Buffy. Never stopped. Not for one second.  I just thought youÕd be better off without me and then we had the battle to worry aboutÉPlease believe me, love.  IÕm here and I will never leave you again.Ó

 

                ÒSÉSpike?Ó The frightened hope in her voice tore at his heart.  ÒHave I gone completely crazy?  Are youÉare you really here?Ó

 

                ÒIÕm really here, love.Ó  He pushed a piece of hair off her face with a trembling hand.  ÒIÕm really here.Ó

 

                ÒHowÉ?Ó  She reached up and traced his cheek, running her hand to his mouth and touching his lower lip gently, shivering when he gently kissed her fingertip.

 

                 ÒBlue Ð IÕll explain about her later Ð she whisked us away to somewhere after AngelÉÓ He stopped, afraid to finish the sentence.

 

                  ÒAfter Angel slew the dragon and it went up in flames with him on it.  I know.  We heard about that.  But we heard that you couldnÕt be found afÉafter. And there was so much blood and dust andÉthey said you were gÉgone.  Again.Ó

 

                 ÒI was gone, pet. But not dusted; just wentÉelsewhere for a bit.  As soon as I got back, I came lookinÕ for you.Ó

 

               ÒButÉÓ her lip stuck out as she looked at him dubiously.  ÒWhy were you sitting outside my window?  Why didnÕt you just come to the door and knock?Õ

 

              He stroked her face with the back of his knuckles, reveling in both the smoothness of her skin and the way she leaned into his hand. 

 

               ÒI didnÕt know what I was gonna find, sweetheart.  For all I knew you were happy, with somebody already in your life, and it would have been best for me to jusÕ stay gone.  Wanted to scope things out a bit first, yeah?  But I just couldnÕt resist seeinÕ you while I was here.  CouldnÕt make myself leave when I saw you were cryinÕÉÓ

 

              Before they could continue, there was a sharp knock on the door and then it opened and DawnÕs head appeared.

 

               ÒBuffy?  I heard you yelling andÉare you hallucinating again?  Do you want aÑÒ

 

               ÒHello, Bit.Ó

 

                She blinked and then flipped on the light switch.  As the two tear-streaked faces on the bed squeezed their eyes shut against the sudden intrusion, she stared at the vampire, mouth open in shock.

 

                ÒSpike?  Is it really you, or are BuffyÕs hallucinations contagious?Ó

 

               ÒItÕs really me, pet.Ó  He smiled at her somewhat timidly, not sure of his reception.

 

               ÒOh,Ó she said simply.  ÒWell, youÕve got until tomorrow morning to come up with a really good explanation for why you let us cry over your dead ass - not once, but twice Ð or IÕm going to dust you myself.Ó

 

                Without another word, she flipped the light back off and closed the door, walking back to her own room with a smile on her face.  In the once-again darkened room, Buffy fell back on the bed pulling the willing vampire with her.  They clung together without speaking, each lost in roiling thoughts and emotions.  As Buffy gradually relaxed against him, Spike realized that she had gone back to sleep her arms tightly clenched around his body.  He shifted into a more comfortable position, then closed his own eyes and waited for the morning and the beginning of a new life.

 

the end

 

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