Title: The Dream

Author: Gillian Silverlight

Distribution: My site at www.homestead.com/gilliansspikelair/ or those that have permission to post my fiction. Others please ask first.

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. They belong to Joss and the WB. I just play with them to make them and me happier

Summary: immediately post "The Crush"

Rating: PG 13

The Dream

Buffy had slammed the door in Spike's startled, hurt face feeling quite smug with herself.

"That was a mean and cruel thing to do to him. I'm GLAD you're not really my sister!"

Dawn turned and ran up the stairs, slamming the door to her room behind her. Buffy just stared, speechless with Dawn's accusations and actions.

* She just doesn't understand. * Buffy shook her head slowly and headed up the stairs to her own room. It had been a long night. It had been a very upsetting night. Right now all she really wanted was her bed and to go to sleep, hoping everything would look better in the morning light.

Finally crawling into her bed, Buffy turned out the lights, trying to still the thoughts running rampant in her head. Sleep finally did overtake her. For a while.....

**********************************

Buffy was standing in a long dark corridor. She had no idea how she got here or even where here was! As she tried to see through the smothering darkness, she thought she sensed movement in front of her. A pale glow seemed to be moving toward her in the deep velvet of the blackness around her. In the center of that glow was....herself?

"What's going on? Where am I? Who are you?" The belligerence Buffy always used to hold back her fright and insecurity came to the fore.

* We don't need physical words here. We can hear each other fine this way, you know. *

* So who are you? A-and where am I? *

* You are simply.. here. You know who I am. I am you. You are me. We are ... us.*

* What do you mean? How can we be the same? *

* Oh, we are not the same. But we are both Buffy. Both the Slayer. I am that portion of you that you refuse to accept, or to hear. I'm your subconscious that you keep hidden behind locked doors and high walls. *

* Oh. But if we are each other, why do you say we are not the same? *

* Because I am that part of you that you refuse to accept. I am your true feelings and wishes and desires. Yet your refusal to even face me makes us different even as we are one. *

* So why am I here? *

* Because we need to speak. You refuse to see the truth. That weakens you. It weakens both of us. The time is coming when we need to be one. We need to be strong. *

* Do you mean Glory? *

* That is a part of it. There will be more. But that is ahead. Our concern now is to be one. To start on that journey, we must talk. You must hear me. Remember, denial is more than a river in Egypt. * The other Buffy snickered at her own joke.

* Oooo! That was bad. Maybe you really are me. So what do we need to talk about?*

* You know. You don't wish to face it, but you know. Your reaction to this is violent.

That alone should tell you how much it matters, how important it really is to you. *

* NO! We are so not going to discuss that! * Buffy turned around seeking a way out, a way to escape this place, this dream. She just knew she had to be dreaming. Nightmare was more like it!

* You really have no choice, you know. Since we are one, you will have to go with me wherever I go in this place. Pay attention to what you see and feel. It IS the truth, you know. *

With that statement, the 'mirror' Buffy walked into Buffy and disappeared. Buffy felt herself pushed over to the side of her mind, leaving the 'mirror' Buffy to control her body.

They walked down the darkened corridor to a room at the end. They opened the door and entered into the room. All they could see was a large bed. It was covered in sheets the color of the midnight sky. That dark blue that happens right before true darkness settles over the sky. Tall ivory pillar candles surrounded the bed with their warm flickering light. The darkness was scented with the fragrance of sun-warmed woods, freshly turned earth, the sweetness of flowers whose eyes saw only the silver radiance of the moonlight.

Giving themselves up to the seduction of the scents and sights and darkness, they removed the gauzy drape of gown, to slide between the silk sheets.

The silk was heavy, alive with sensation. It caressed their body, dipping into hollows and draping over curves. They wanted to wrap its texture around them and roll in the sensations.

There was movement in the darkness beside them. As the figure moved into the glimmer of the candle flames, they could see the sweep of hair that brushed his shoulders. Hair as pale as the candles that gleamed in the darkness. He wore a shirt the same color of the sheets. The pale hair brushed over the collar of the shirt. It was unbuttoned part way, exposing the pale sculptured planes of his chest against the deep blue. His eyes picked up the color. Those eyes that were the color of the autumn sky. Those eyes that saw into the depths of their soul. Those eyes that were darkening with repressed passion and desire.

He stood and gazed down at them, savoring the swell of the silk over their curves. Seeing the color enhance their eyes as well. Taking in the spread of golden hair on the darkness of the pillows. It was the same color as the candle flames dancing around them.

* Why is he here? *

* He is in your mind always. I only pulled up our own desires. *

He advanced the two steps to the bed, sitting on the side, graceful as the sleek predator he was. His hands reached out to caress them, to stroke their golden hair and cup their face as his mouth came down on theirs to claim it as his own

Their hands reached up to unfasten the buttons of the shirt, sliding the heavy silk of it from his body. The shirt slithered off of him with a life of its own to puddle around his hips where he sat. Their hands stroked his chest, curved around his back to urge him closer to them again.

His eyes asked a question of them. They pulled him even closer as their answer. He captured their lips again, hands roaming their body through the silk of the sheets as his tongue explored the inside of their mouth.

The touch was like cold fire, burning them even as it heated their blood. His hair slid over their face as he kissed them, each touch was scalding, cooling, exciting.

The taste of him mixed with the scents of the room and rolled across the back of their own tongue. The energy of him danced across their skin, making each nerve jump separately.

He broke the kiss and slid back to the edge of the bed, the silk moaned as he crossed it, as they moaned to relinquish his touch. He stood and slipped the heavy material of the pants down his body to the floor. Then he placed one knee on the bed; the other followed, as he crawled gracefully across the surface back to them. They watched the play of muscles under his skin; bunching, sliding, relaxing. Bring him to them.

He slipped under the sheet covering them, bringing them next to his own body. Their arms went around his neck and back, pulling him closer to them. They couldn't get close enough to him. They kissed him in return, trying to crawl into him.

He rolled them over as his cool chiseled body covered them. They moved against him, seeking him. He moved and explored them with his hands, his mouth, and his body.

As one, they allowed him the entrance to their body that he sought. They sought.

Fire met ice. One surging against the other, meeting the other, heat seeking cool, cool delving into the heat.

Both cried out into the darkness as something powerful, sweet and unrelenting overwhelmed them. The power danced across their skin, setting nerves on fire, breaking them into a million pieces before they pooled once more back into form.

They continued to hold him close to them, his hair falling across their breasts as his head lay on their shoulder. No words were spoken to shatter the darkness, to disturb the smoothness of their joined bodies

The darkness claimed them for it's own as they swirled down into slumber, clasped together as one.

Sometime later they woke alone. Beside them where he had lain was a deep red-black rose, perfect in every petal. Under the rose lay a page.

' Somewhere I have never traveled, gladly beyond

any experience, your eyes have their silence;

in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,

or which I cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me

though I have closed myself as fingers,

you open always petal by petal myself as spring opens'

(touching skillfully, mysteriously ) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, I and

my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,

as when the heart of this flowers imagines

the snow everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals

the power of your intense fragility: whose texture

compels me with the color of its countries,

rendering death and forever with each breathing

(I do not know what it is about you that closes

and opens; only something in me understands

the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)

nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands "

As they read the words, tears coursed down their face, scaling them as they ran, as his mouth had scaled them with its icy fire.

* What does this mean? * Buffy whimpered in fright and pain at the words they had read, at his absence from them.

* It means exactly what you think it does...now. He loves you. Truly and deeply. He'd rather not live than be without you. *

* B-but he's not alive...*

* Having tasted his love, his skin, can you really believe that? *

Buffy hung the head of her voice as she whispered. * No. No, I can't. *

* Then go to him. You are his life. He is your life. He seeks to warm himself in the light of your soul to strengthen his own light. You seek to drink of his darkness to slake your own darkness. *

* Are we really what...are we closer to what he is than I believed? *

* Seek inside yourself with eyes of truth. We ARE darkness bounded by light. We need the light, yet you took into us the darkness of HER. He will help us understand how to use it. He is our other half. *

* Do we have to? *

* Do you wish to never feel that touch again? *

* No... I want it more than anything. If I can't have it again, I don't know if I can stand it. *

* What does that tell you of our feelings? *

* T-that somewhere inside where you are.. we l-l-love him? * Buffy's mental voice trembled with fear at the 'words' she 'said'.

* Yes! There is hope for you to see the light after all. Seek him out before he is lost to us. Go now. I will be here when you need me. We are one, after all. *

Buffy woke from the very disturbing dream. She lay there in the dark going through the dream step by step, word for word. She put both hands to her face and moaned into them.

"Nooooooo! It can't be true! I can't......"

She lay there trying to control her breathing. Once she had done that, she realized the dream was the truth. She had been lying to herself. How WAS she going to handle this?!

The Slayer got out of bed and went to her bathroom, turning on just the small nightlight. As she looked up into the mirror, she gasped. For a split second she saw herself, her other self and behind them both, the First Slayer, as well as Spike. Then the images vanished except for just her own familiar self. Yet as she looked into the mirror, she thought she looked different. Stronger, softer..

* This is so weird! *

* Not really. The dream changed us. *

"W-what?!"

Only silence answers her back.

Buffy got dressed and gathering a few weapons, she slipped out her window heading toward the cemetery. Standing outside of Spike's crypt she took a deep breath and knocked on the door, opening it without waiting for an answer.

The crypt was alight with pale ivory candles everywhere. Spike sat in the chair in front of the dark television. He didn't even turn around.

"Come to kick me down some more? Didn't get enough of it earlier?"

She bit her tongue, keeping back the sharp retort that threatened to fall out of her mouth.

* Gonna have to break that habit, I guess. *

"No, Spike. I came to apologize."

He whipped around to look at the Slayer, shock on his face, hope in his eyes.

"It's ok, Spike. You can close your mouth. I came to apologize and ask you to forgive me if you can."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Ok, who are you and what did you do with MY Slayer?"

Buffy had to giggle at that.

"Well, that part bleedin' sounds like you."

He got up from the chair, setting the bottle of Jack Daniels on the floor. He walked slowly over to Buffy. She saw the grace and slide of muscles she remembered from the dream.

* God, I had no idea I'd noticed so much about him.*

Spike reached out to take her hand and pull her toward the chair so she could sit. She took the seat and he sat on the floor in front of her, still holding her hand.

* I'll hold on to her while she lets me. May be all I ever get.*

"So what did you come to apologize for and ask me to forgive you for, luv?"

"I acted like a bitch earlier. I was cruel and it was unforgivable. Even though I hope you will forgive me. You're always welcome in my house, Spike."

His eyebrows tried to shoot right off his forehead at her words.

"Well, yeah, you did. And I forgive you. I didn't handle things all that very well, I know. I'm sorry, luv. I didn't mean to upset you. I just needed to tell you how I feel."

"Why do you, Spike?"

"Don't know, luv. I've always been attracted to you. Then it just kept getting stronger. I woke up from a dream one night telling you. Scared the bloody hell out of me, I can tell you. A vampire in love with the Slayer...But it wouldn't go away. It kept getting worse and worse, or maybe I should say stronger and stronger. Then finally I had to tell you."

"I'm sorry I was such a bitch, Spike. You were right. There IS something between us. And it doesn't matter what I found out about myself in a dream tonight, I'm not gonna sit here and tell you the same thing. But I would like to see what we do have between us if you'll let us, that is...."

"Buffy, love, all I asked for from you was a chance. You're giving me that now. I'll do everything I can to live up to that and to prove to you how I feel."

"I'm gonna hold you to that, Spike."

She stood up, pulling him up and against her with one tug of his hand. Her other hand went up around his neck as she stood on tiptoe and kissed him quickly, brushing her lips across his.

Spike was speechless, shocked, thrilled. Buffy saw the emotions flow through his face.

* Why did I never notice how expressive his face really is?*

"See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Tomorrow. Right." It was all he could do not to grab her and kiss her silly...

Buffy released his hand and headed for the door. Before she reached it, she turned back to him.

"Spike, can I ask a favor?"

"Anything, luv."

"One day soon, let's go find you something besides black to wear. I think a dark blue silk would be nice....and Spike...?"

"Yes, luv."

"Would you let your hair grow, please?"

She turned and walked out the door, smiling to herself.

Gillian Silverlight 2/16/01