Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It belongs to Joss and his cronies (even if he doesn’t seem to know what the hell to do with it these days…) I’m making no profit from this.

*** *** ***

Buffy tossed in her bed, visions of a life she’d never lived yet felt real all the same echoing in her dreams. She could feel the heat of a fire, smell the stench of death surrounding her, her own heart beating as quickly as the girl she saw running before her eyes.

Gasping, she sat up in bed, her hand trembling as she clutched the sheet to her chest, sweat dotting her forehead. It had been years since she’d had a dream like this one, though she remembered a time when they had plagued her almost every night.

Memories of a life she’d never lived. Of a life that had never been hers.

Memories of a girl joined to her by a power that bound them together through the ages.

Buffy ran her hands through her hair, wondering why she’d be having one of these dreams again now. Ever since she’d been turned, her Slayer dreams had focused more on the prophetic, telling her what she needed to know in order to fight her ongoing battles.

Why would she need to know anything about a girl who, from the looks of it, had lived over six hundred years before Buffy had even been born?

She already knew she was a Slayer and what it meant for her. She didn’t need to get a refresher course in her sisters from the past. What, did the PTB reset her Slayer dreams when she was resurrected?

Buffy flopped back against the pillows, knowing she needed sleep but too restless at the same time. Maybe she should’ve sought Spike out tonight after all. She never had any difficulty falling asleep after a few exhausting hours with him…

Only she was trying not to do that anymore. Or at least not so much. Maybe she could wean herself off sex with the vampire…

She forced her eyes closed and took several deep, relaxing breaths. Now was not the time to think about Spike. She had a double shift at the Doublemeat, starting with breakfast. She needed to get some sleep so she didn’t start nodding off at the grill. Again.

Buffy rolled over to her side and pulled the sheet up, deciding she wasn’t going to have any more Slayer dreams tonight. If the Powers had something to tell her, they could write her a note. Right now, she was going to sleep.

The Powers That Be didn’t listen.

*** *** ***

She held a cloth to her nose and mouth, though it did little to block out the stench of rotting bodies. Carts carried them through the streets, purple boils marring the near-skeletal corpses.

Vomit rose in her throat, but she kept it in, her mind focused on her duty instead. For weeks, she’d tracked the same creature, and if the reports her Watcher had received were correct, she’d find him in this village.

Vampires… They were filthy animals, preying on the pain and suffering of humanity. It made her almost as ill as the heavy fog of death hanging in the air.

She didn’t stop running until she reached the church, her hand strong as it clutched the metal ring on the door and pulled it towards her. She pushed the door hard behind her, panting as she shut out the world.

“Father?” she called, her timid voice echoing off stone walls. “Are you here? It’s Isobel. I was sent by the Council.”

A tall, thin man with long robes and gray hair stepped out from the shadows, his eyes intently focused on Isobel. “Yes, of course. I was pleased when I received news of your impending arrival. Our village has suffered enough without this demon preying on it as well.”

Isobel lowered her gaze. “Yes, your grace. I shall vanquish him tonight and he shall cause you suffering no longer.”

“Did you travel alone, child?” he asked, his dark eyes darting behind her.

“Yes. My Watcher preferred to stay behind when he heard your village was troubled so by plague.”

The priest nodded. “Allow me to show you to your quarters then. I am certain you will want to rest before nightfall.”

“Yes, your grace,” Isobel replied, her eyes still lowered. “That is quite kind of you.”

The priest said nothing else as he led her to the back of the church. Isobel clutched her arms, the air cold behind heavy stone walls. She thanked the priest again as he opened the door to what would be her room, then bid him good day as he shut her inside.

Once alone, she lowered herself to her knees, her hands clutched and her eyes closed as she prayed to God for strength in her impending battle. She begged him to allow her to be a weapon of His righteousness on Earth, using her as His hand to strike down those who would do evil.

Isobel had never understood why God had chosen her to fulfill such an important task. While she had been raised from infancy with the knowledge it could happen someday, she had never believed she would be the one chosen from the girls she had shared quarters with while waiting to be called. So many of them had been sent away once it became clear they were too old to be chosen, and Isobel had already resigned herself to a life in a convent.

She had been certain pious, brave Constance would be chosen before Isobel herself ever had a chance. The other girl had mastered every weapon and could recite entire texts on demons and their evils. Isobel couldn’t remember if it was a garlack or a larnack that had six horns and was afraid of shellfish…

When her Watcher had come to her and told her the previous Slayer was dead and Isobel had been the one who was to take her place, she had hardly been able to believe him. However, her newfound strength and agility had proven he spoke the truth, and since then, she had fought to prove herself worthy of such a gift.

Even when she watched Constance leave for the convent Isobel had known she should be the one making that journey instead…

Isobel spent the hours before sunset in silent prayer, rededicating herself to her Lord and His holy ways. She would be pious, pure and good, until He deemed it time to call another Slayer forth and she would sacrifice herself as a martyr.

It would be an early death, but it would be a worthy one.

When the sun finally set, Isobel slipped from the church, her cross heavy around her neck and her stake clutched tightly in her sweating palms. Death still raged all around her, fires burning and lighting the dark night, but she kept her focus on her sacred duty, determined to vanquish the demon and prove herself worthy of her calling.

A shrill scream broke through the night, yet no one but Isobel stirred at the sound, cries of pain and fear too commonplace to be worth noticing any longer. However, Isobel recognized this cry as different from others, recognized the reason behind the fear.

She broke into a run, her skirts rustling around her ankles, though she didn’t trip. Her hand stole to her cross, her fingers massaging the wood as she moved with inhuman speed to the outskirts of the village.

Isobel came to an abrupt stop when she found the demon, her chest heaving with the exertion of her breaths. He dropped his frightened prey when he heard her approach and turned, blood smeared against his lips as he faced her, his gold eyes flickering like flame.

“Slayer…”

“Demon,” she hissed, her stake raised.

The girl he’d been feeding from scrambled to her feet, clutching her wounded neck. “Run,” Isobel said, throwing her a glance, and the girl didn’t argue, stumbling as she ran, though managing to escape, for the vampire did not give chase.

Instead, he stared at the Slayer, looking her over with his tongue running against his fangs in a way that made her quite…uncomfortable.

“I suppose I should be cross with you, Slayer, for allowing my meal to escape. However…” He smirked and stepped towards her. “She was a bony peasant. You are a ripe, succulent treat. I think I should much rather feast from you.”

“You will not taste my blood tonight, foul hellspawn,” Isobel swore. “I shall return you to your dark lord!”

Usually, this was the point where the demons looked somewhat nervous. Or at least prepared for a fight. However, this one merely laughed, the sound having a rich quality Isobel wasn’t familiar with. “Listen to you! Making such cold threats and we haven’t even been properly introduced.” He bowed low, waving his arm with a flourish. “I am called Edmund.”

“Isobel,” she replied with a curtsy before she remembered where she was. His sudden break from what she was used to had taken her completely from the moment. That and the way his demon face had melted to reveal the most beautiful man she’d ever seen moments before his introduction… She blushed crimson. “I…”

Edmund laughed his deep, rich laugh again. “Oh, I like you, Slayer. You are delightfully amusing.”

Isobel gaped. “I…!” She stomped her foot and raised her stake. “You shall not find me so amusing when you are nothing but dust, demon!”

He continued to smirk at her, his arms crossed over his chest. Isobel refused to think about how his eyes were such a beautiful shade of green or how his hair was as golden as a sunset. He was a demon, an abomination in the eyes of her God, and she would fulfill her duty to vanquish him from this world.

She ran towards him, stake poised for his heart.

He moved quickly and swatted her like a fly.

Isobel cried out in surprise as her bottom hit the hard, cool ground, and she looked up in shock. How had he done that?

“You’re new, aren’t you, Slayer? Of course you are. Your kind never lasts long. Why those fools think little girls can fight us anyway is something I shall never comprehend.”

His words stroked her anger, and Isobel pushed herself to her feet, running towards him again with renewed determination. He blocked her attack, but she swung with her other hand, hitting him hard in the face, drawing blood in the wake of her fist.

Edmund merely laughed again, his tongue lapping at his own blood. “Yes, Slayer. Show me you have fire.”

Isobel hit him again, breathing heavy in exertion, her blue eyes focusing on nothing but his face and his taunting smile.

This time, Edmund hit back, smacking her across the face. Isobel gasped the sting burning her skin like a flame. She came towards his heart again with the stake, but he blocked her this time as well, his blow once again sending her to the ground.

However, this time, he didn’t allow her to rise again. Edmund lowered his body over hers, pinning her to the ground, his hands like manacles around her wrists as he kept her arms pinned and his powerful thighs clamped around hers.

“Did you really expect to defeat me, Slayer?” he snarled, his demon face replacing the beautiful features that had distracted her.

“It doesn’t matter if I am the one who vanquishes you tonight or not, demon. I am but an instrument of the Holy Father, and he will see you struck down for your sins.”

“Is that so?” he asked, amusement in feral yellow eyes. “Then I suppose I should enjoy a great deal of sinning before he does to be certain I have done enough to warrant such punishment.”

Edmund moved quickly, both of her hands wrapped in one of his now, leaving his other hand to trail her body, strong, cool fingers, moving against her skin above the top of her bodice, caressing the ample mounds pushed forth by the restrictive fabric. Isobel gasped, her tongue wetting her soft pink lips at the unfamiliar sensation. She didn’t understand what the vampire was doing, wondering why he was not taking the chance to rend the flesh of her neck when she was at his mercy completely.

Then, his mouth was at her neck, and Isobel closed her eyes as she whispered a soft prayer to her Lord, asking him to forgive her for her failure and bless her soul when it left her body. The demon atop her laughed again at the sound of her prayer, then ran his tongue along the rapidly-fluttering pulse of her neck.

“Not yet, dove,” he whispered against her ear. “I haven’t had my fill of your flesh.”

His words only served to confuse her, and Isobel’s brow knitted as his hand traveled down her side. Her body felt too hot, and she blamed the demon, knowing it could be nothing but evil that would make her skin warm so when touched by a cool hand.

She cried out when suddenly, his hand was beneath her skirts, pushing them out of the way to find her most intimate of places. She thrashed, fighting to keep her thighs from parting for him, her breath coming in harsh pants now as she realized his intentions.

“Please, no…don’t defile me,” she begged. “I…I’ve taken a vow of chastity, and wish to return to my Lord pure. Let me die as I lived, please…”

“Shh… None of that now, Slayer,” Edmund replied, pushing his way between her thighs. “Relax.”

She shook her head, her eyes closed tight and her breath hissing through clenched teeth. Her prayers continued to sound in her mind as she begged God to spare her this final indignity.

Then, his fingers found a place between her legs she had never known existed, and her eyes snapped open, a cry of surprise falling from parted lips. The act of fornication was one she had only heard of in hushed whispers, and whispers she had never understood at that. But she had been certain it had been something quite horrific.

This, however, was not horrific. Not at all… His fingers were moving rapidly against her, bringing her a sort of pleasure she had never known. Dewy moisture ran down her thighs as she parted them, allowing him better access.

“That’s a good girl,” Edmund purred. “I knew you would enjoy this, dove. I knew in the way you moved… So beautiful. So deadly…”

Isobel moaned and thrust her hips up, no longer caring about anything but the pleasure building in her body. His strong hand released her wrists to cup her ample breast instead, and Isobel’s hand clutched at his shoulders instead of pushing him away.

She was lost to lust. Lost to him…

He lowered his head to capture her lips, but instead, his chest pressed against the large wooden cross she wore. He tore himself from her, crying out in pain as his flesh sizzled.

His hand was off her now, and Isobel moaned, her mouth opening to beg him to return it before the reality of the situation came crashing around her, and she remembered herself. Face flaming in embarrassment, she punched him hard in the nose, knocking him from her body before she ran from him.

Chest heaving with unneeded breath and his own mouth parted in shock, Edmund watched her run.

*** *** ***

The priest was waiting for her when she returned to the church, and Isobel fell at his feet. “Forgive me, Father. I was bested by the demon tonight, and he escaped me.” Her cheeks reddened at her careful omission, knowing herself even further damned for lying to a priest, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit what she had allowed the demon to do.

The priest rested his hand against her head. “It is all right, child. A woman returned to the village tonight saying she was rescued from a wild beast by a girl. You did the Lord’s work.”

Hot tears stung her eyes as she felt like a charlatan. “Yes, Father. I…I did save a woman.”

“Then you have earned your rest for the night. You shall slay the demon soon, of this I am certain. Now return to your chambers.”

Isobel rose to her feet with a shaky nod before she returned to her quarters. Her tear-filled eyes centered on the crucifix hanging on her wall as the door shut, and she prostrated herself before it, begging her Lord for forgiveness for her sins.

*** *** ***

Buffy woke with a gasp on her lips, the first rays of sunlight streaming through the window, her body shaking with desire. She ran her hands through her hair, frustration coursing through her as her alarm began to clang.

She hit it hard, reducing it to useless parts before storming out of the bed with a growl.

“Stupid pointless Slayer dreams,” she muttered, determined to put that little bit of disturbingness out of her mind as she got ready for work.

Buffy stomped through the cemetery, muttering to herself about stupid vampires, be they bleached and in the present or natural blonds and existing in a time far, far away.

Either way, they were seriously upsetting her routine.

She’d burned herself four times at work when her mind had drifted off and she’d paid more attention to memories of the dream than she had the fact she was around very, very hot things.

“What crawled up your ass and died, Slayer?”

Buffy wheeled around to face Spike, the stake she’d been clutching since setting out for patrol pointed towards him now. “Oh, ew, Spike. That’s just an unpleasant thought, really.”

Spike shrugged. “Well, it would explain the constipated look on your face.”

Buffy wrinkled her nose in disgust and threw her arms in the air. “God, this is just what I need tonight. You being an asshole. Can we just cut all the bullshit right now, Spike?”

“So it’s straight to the sex then?” Spike asked with a leer as he moved towards her, wanting to rile her.

Much to his surprise, Buffy grabbed the lapel of his duster and started dragging him back towards his crypt. “You better get me off quick tonight and not do that damn teasing thing. I’m not in the mood.”

Spike gaped as he let her pull him behind her, for once at a complete loss when it came to witty retorts. He had no idea what had gotten into the Slayer, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain.

As soon as they were in the crypt, she tossed him to the ground and pounced on him, her small hands working quickly to open his jeans. She hiked up her skirt, lowered herself down, and let his cock fill her wet pussy.

“A skirt and no panties? Were you even pretending to be out on patrol tonight, Slayer?” Spike asked as he grabbed her hips, holding on for the ride.

“Shut up, Spike,” she snarled, grabbing one of his hands and pushing it to her clit. “Your mouth is ruining the mood.”

Spike snarled. If she wanted it hard and fast, she could have it… He flipped her over, his hand working her clit as he pounded into her. Buffy moaned, her eyes shut tight and her hands gripping his arms.

She came with a strangled cry, and Spike groaned as he came after her.

He was still riding the high of his orgasm when she threw him off, kicked him away, and ran out of his crypt.

Spike sat up, rubbing his head and wondering what the hell that was all about.

*** *** ***

Buffy ran until she was safe in her room, shutting herself away from the world. She collapsed on her bed, angry tears stinging her eyes. What was wrong with her? Not only was she getting turned on by Spike, but she was getting turned on by vampires in her dreams now, too.

She rolled over and stared at the ceiling. Buffy didn’t like that dream… She hadn’t been able to get it out of her mind, spending all day wondering why the Powers had given her that to watch.

Maybe it wasn’t a Slayer dream at all. It wasn’t as if Slayers routinely got it on with vampires, after all. Maybe it was just the product of whatever this was she’d been doing with Spike.

Which really, Buffy decided, made more sense. Of course she’d start dreaming about a Slayer fooling around with a vampire. It was a subject that had been on her mind recently…

That, and those Doublemeat burgers had to give you bad dreams…

She decided just to stop thinking about it at all. It was just one dream, and the more she thought about it, totally not a Slayer dream. It wasn’t like she was ever going to have it again. So she’d had a rather odd, erotic dream about a vampire. It wasn’t the first time. Granted, the others had been about vampires she actually knew, but that was inconsequential.

It was probably just a sign she really needed to start staying away from Spike.

So starting first thing in the morning, she was going to do that.

And she wouldn’t be having anymore of those weird dreams either.

*** *** ***

Isobel spent the entire day pacing her bed chamber. She knew she should confess her sins and ask for absolution, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit to the priest that she’d allowed a demon to defile her.

She’d sworn before God to remain chaste, and yet she’d so easily thrown her virginity away to a vampire. How could she have failed so completely in her duty?

She should have stayed and let the vampire drink from her. Death would be a fitting punishment for her sins.

Isobel fell to her knees again, knowing she’d have to plead more for God’s forgiveness if she was going to succeed in her battle against Ed… er, the demon. She may no longer be truly worthy of being a Slayer, but she still wished to banish the evil from this town.

When the sun set, Isobel left the church again. She started towards where she had seen the vampire the night before, hoping he wouldn’t have changed his feeding habits.

She had just reached the edge of the village proper when a girl ran to her, blood smeared on her dress and face. She fell at Isobel’s feet, sobbing. “You must help me. There’s…there’s a demon in the keep. He lured me from my home and bit my neck!”

“Go to the church,” Isobel said, pushing her guilt and doubts away, becoming only the Slayer. “The priest will take care of you. I will see to the demon.”

The girl clung to her. “No! You mustn’t! He’s a monster!”

Isobel replied with a small smile. “There’s no need to worry. I know what needs to be done.” She broke free of the girl and ran towards the keep, her long brown hair flowing behind her. She would stop him tonight.

She kicked the door to the keep open, the heavy wood slamming against the stone wall under her slayer strength. A lit torch hung on the wall, and she grabbed it, no fear in her heart as she stepped into the darkness. “I know you’re in here, Edmund!” she called out, her voice echoing in the chamber. “Show yourself and face me!”

The keep remained silent save for the sounds of Isobel’s harsh breaths. Yet her skin prickled and tingled, telling her for certain a vampire was nearby.

“Are you a coward, Edmund?” she demanded, her face angry in the flamelight. “Afraid of a little girl?”

His deep, rich laugh filled the keep, and Isobel trembled. The shadows around her moved, and suddenly, Edmund was in front of her. He smiled easily as his gaze traveled down her body. “I see you received my message, Slayer. Don’t worry – I made sure the girl will live.”

Isobel gasped, her heart pounding. “You lured me here? Why?”

Edmund shrugged easily. “I’ve grown tired of waiting. I wish to fornicate with you this night.”

Isobel blushed furiously and took her eyes away from him. “I will not let you for…do that…with me again!”

“Again? Do you think we already…” Edmund laughed. “How delightful.”

Isobel managed to blush even more, her usually fair skin a deep red. “But you…you touched me…on my…” She couldn’t finish her sentence.

“That was only the first taste, dove. I assure you your purity is still quite intact. Though it will not before this night is through. Will you be going to my bed willingly, or will I have to subdue you?”

“I will not succumb to your lust, demon!” Isobel insisted. “I’m here to remove you from this world.”

Edmund smirked. “You’re quite amusing, girl. You and I both know you want it as much as I do. I can smell how much you want me.”

He could smell…? What could that possibly mean? Isobel was so terribly confused.

And oddly warm…

Edmund held out his hand. “Come with, my darling. Let’s not waste anymore time with this ridiculous farce.”

“I will not lie with you!” Isobel yelled, stomping her foot. “I am a Slayer, chosen by God to serve as His hand here on Earth! I will remain pure and not be sullied by any demon! And you…you are a vile, disgusting creature who shall never touch me again!”

Edmund shivered. “Oh, the things you say to me, Slayer. They make me so hard.”

Hard? She didn’t understand him at all. “We’re supposed to be fighting!” she exclaimed, stomping her foot again. “You aren’t playing by the rules.”

“I never play by the rules, Slayer.” He shrugged. “But if you insist we fight…” He struck suddenly, hitting Isobel in the face.

Isobel gasped in shock as she stumbled backwards, the torch falling from her hands and to the ground. Edmund kicked a bucket near it, water rushing over the flame, extinguishing it, before he came after Isobel again, knocking her feet out from under her.

Isobel’s breathing came in harsh pants as she sat on the cold stone floor, the room pitch black. For the first time in her six months as a Slayer, she was genuinely frightened, knowing she was at completely at Edmund’s mercy. She couldn’t see a thing, and even if she tried to run, she knew without a doubt he’d catch her.

“You don’t have to make this so difficult, Slayer. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I won’t stop fighting you!” Isobel swore.

Edmund sighed. “As adorable as you are, dearest, you’re being quite foolish.”

“You’re a monster! You’re evil and you disgust me!”

“Oooh…say that again,” Edmund purred. “Your sweet words only fill me with more desire, dove.”

He moved quickly again, grabbing her under her arms and hauling her up from the floor. She started to struggle against him, but he fastened his lips to hers, kissing her until she was finally pliant.

When he broke his lips from hers, Isobel was panting, her eyes wide. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want you,” Edmund replied, as if it were the simplest answer in the world. “I saw you, and for a moment, my heart beat again.”

“Why? I…I don’t understand this.”

“Because you are beautiful,” Edmund said simply.

Isobel had never been so confused. Her heart was beating too quickly, even though she was no longer afraid. She didn’t know what he was asking her for, only that she shouldn’t give it to him.

And that she really wanted to give it to him…

Her entire life had been spent behind the walls of the Council, until she had been Called and had finally been allowed outside the door. Yet then, she’d been thrust into a world of darkness, of constant pain and suffering, and it had driven her to weep more nights than she cared to count.

Edmund was offering her something else. She knew that much, even if she didn’t know what it was.

Her Slayer training screamed no, the voice of her Watcher sounding in her mind, telling her what she was contemplating was the ultimate sin. But she’d already allowed the demon to sully her. How much more of a sinner could she become if she allowed him to take what he wanted now?

The girl in her yearned for something beautiful, and if what Edmund wanted now was anything like what he’d done to her the night before…

Edmund smiled to himself when he felt her slacken in his grip. He moved her into his arms, cradling her to his chest as he brought her through the halls of the keep, the rapid pattering of Isobel’s heart calling to him.

“Don’t be afraid, dove. You will know pleasure this night.”

“I am sworn to chastity,” she said, though she knew her sacred vow was already as good as broken. “The Watchers’ Council wishes for all Slayers to remain pure.”

Edmund shook his head. “They send girls to their deaths night after night and do not even allow them to experience physical joy in their short lives. And they call me a monster.”

He brought her into a room, and Isobel blinked, her eyes adjusting from the darkness to candle light. She gasped as she looked where Edmund was taking her – a large bed, more luxurious than she had ever known.

Edmund set her on the ground, steadying her when her legs wobbled. Isobel trembled, waiting for what he planned to do next. Part of her wanted to run, but she knew she’d sealed her fate the moment she’d entered the keep. Edmund wanted her, and he was going to make her his.

He reached for her dress, his hands moving quickly, and before Isobel could full comprehend what was happening, she was naked before him. She gasped and blushed again, wishing she could cover herself. No one ever saw her fully nude – not even herself.

“Can’t I wear my dress, Edmund?”

“I suppose you could,” he replied. “However, it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun, and your skirts would just get in the way. Get on the bed, Slayer.”

Isobel shook, but she did as he said, her eyes on Edmund as he began to disrobe. She’d never seen a man undressed before and had no idea what to expect.

And she certainly hadn’t expected that. What was that? Did human men have that as well? It simply didn’t seem natural.

And how did he keep clothes over such a thing? It seemed so rigid – wouldn’t it have broken right through the cloth?

Furthermore, what was he going to do with it?

Edmund smirked. “Don’t look so frightened, Slayer. I’ll be gentle. Spread your legs.”

Isobel trembled, dumbstruck. Edmond sighed, shook his head, then joined her on the bed, pushing her thighs apart with his strong hands.

As soon as he brought his hands away, Isobel clamped them back together again.

Edmond shook his head and gave her a stern look. “I can’t pleasure you if your thighs aren’t parted, my dearest. Now be a good girl and keep them open for me.”

“But I don’t know what you’re going to do,” Isobel protested. Then, she admitted in a near-whisper. “I…I fear you shall bite me.”

Edmond chuckled, and the sound alone seemed to put her more at easy. “Don’t worry about that, dove. My bite is nothing to fear. Not for you. But for now I plan only to give you a very special kiss. Will you let me do that?”

Isobel couldn’t imagine a kiss more special than he’d given her earlier, but she was willing to allow him to do what he wished. She parted her trembling thighs.

When he placed his mouth between him, Isobel grew stiff, certain he was going to bite her after all – and in such a sensitive place, no less! But the bite didn’t come. Instead, he started doing something wonderful. She didn’t know what it was, only that if he stopped now, she would stake him after all.

He didn’t stop. Instead, he continued to make the incredible tension build inside of her. Her breathing came in sharp, desperate pants, her fingers tangling in the silky strands of his golden hair.

She was close. She knew she was close. She just had no idea what she was close to…

The tension burst inside her at the same time her body tightened up. She’d never screamed in her life, but she was now, Edmund’s name a nearly-inhuman yell as it bounced off the stone walls of the chamber. Her vision went white and she shook uncontrollably before she finally slumped to the mattress in a sweating heap.

She gasped, her eyes fluttering open and settling on Edmond. He was kneeling between her legs, his tongue moving over his lips as he watched her.

“Was…was that fornication?” she asked breathlessly.

Edmund replied with the laugh she was growing to love so. “No, my sweet Slayer. That was merely preparing you for fornication. Fornication is when I enter you with my cock.”

“Your what?”

He gestured to the strange thing protruding from his body, and Isobel’s eyes grew wide. She sat up and slid towards the head of the bed, pulling at the blankets to cover herself. “Enter me where?” she asked skeptically, though given where his attentions had centered, she had a fairly good idea.

“Now, now, there’s no reason to be afraid. It isn’t going to hurt.”

She looked at him skeptically. “It won’t hurt?”

“Not at all, dove. Now lay back down and let me give you what we both want.”

Isobel was timid as she moved, though she did what he said, lying on her back again and reopening her legs. “Is this right?” she asked him.

“Yes. Perfect.” Edmund came down over her, situating their bodies, then propping himself up on his arm, his other hand gripping his cock. “Calm down, sweetheart. It’s all going to be all right. Just hold on to me.”

Cautiously, Isobel brought her arms up to wrap around his chest, linking at his back. Edmund smiled, then kissed the tip of her nose. “That’s right, Slayer. Keep holding on to me, and it will all be fine.”

Edmund lined up his cock with her entrance, took a deep breath, and forced his way into the tight channel.

Isobel screamed in pain.

Within moments, she was pummeling his back. “Get off of me, you…you swine! It hurts! You told me it wouldn’t hurt!”

It took all of Edmund’s self control not to start thrusting. “Yes, well, I lied. I knew you wouldn’t agree to it if I told you it hurt, and then we’d both be missing out.”

“Oh, I would’ve been perfectly happy to miss out on this!” Isobel screeched. “Get out of me!”

“Shh… Calm down. It only hurts at first, and only because you are untried. The pain will pass and pleasure will be in its place, but first you need to relax.”

“I don’t believe you! You’re a liar! And…and an evil demon, so I should have know that, but…” Her words were muffled as his mouth came down on hers, stopping any further protests.

“You’re mine, Isobel,” he growled against her lips when he broke the kiss. “You’re mine and I shall take what I need. Be calm and let yourself enjoy it.”

He expected her to yell more, but when she looked up at him and pouted, he almost gave her her way – only he knew she’d end up being glad he didn’t.

“But I don’t like fornication, Edmund,” she said, her pout still firmly in place.

“Yes you do. Hush now and let it get better.”

Isobel sighed, and Edmund suppressed his smirk. For all her protesting, she hadn’t truly made much of an effort to get him off of her. She was a Slayer – had she wanted this to end, she could’ve forced him away from her.

Still, he might as well make it easier for her. He moved his thumb over her clitoris, working the nub with small, controlled circles.

Soon, Isobel was panting beneath him, and Edmond couldn’t keep his self-satisfaction off his face. “Not so bad now, dove?”

“It…I suppose it is getting better,” Isobel admitted, though she refused to look him in the eye.

Carefully, Edmund began to move his hips, keeping the thrusts of his cock shallow. Isobel gasped, but it wasn’t long until she was testing out the movement of her own hips.

“That’s a good little Slayer,” he purred. “I told you you’d like this. I knew you’d like this.”

Isobel’s only response was a moan as the pain she’d felt upon his entry became a distant memory. She did feel good now. Very good…

“Oh, Edmund,” she sighed, her hands holding him closer again. “Edmund, yes…”

Soon, the pleasure was nearly overwhelming, and Isobel knew what she was building towards this time – and she welcomed it. Any moment now, she’d be tumbling over that edge again, her body overwhelmed by the greatest pleasure she’d ever known.

Then, Edmund’s face changed, his demon in the fore. He dove for her neck, his fangs piercing her skin, and Isobel screamed again.

The next morning, Buffy conceded that her dreams were, in fact, Slayer dreams. She was also completely positive as to what they meant.

Isobel had succumbed to her passion for Edmund. Edmund had bitten Isobel, and then everything had gone dark and the dream had ended. So, Buffy reasoned, Edmund had killed Isobel.

Which led her to the conclusion the PTB could only be telling her one thing – sex with vampires was bad.

Not that she didn’t already know that, but now she had very real reinforcement.

And sure, the sex had been amazingly hot. She felt like a voyeur just thinking about the dream. But was it worth death?

Probably not.

Buffy shook her head. No, definitely not. Definitely.

It was her day off from the Doublemeat, and Buffy decided to use it for what she should’ve done a long time ago. She left the bed and got ready quickly before marching over to Restfield Cemetery.

Spike was still asleep, of course. The vampire was spread out on the bed like some sort of noble lord, the sheet barely covering what lay beneath his narrow hips.

Buffy licked her lips, her pupils dilating as she thought about what was beneath the sheets. What would one more little blowjob really hurt? They wouldn’t have to have sex. Hell, he wouldn’t even have to get her off. She could just suck that gorgeous, perfect cock of his one last time, and then…

No. She shook her head and fought to get a grip on herself. She had to do this. The Powers That Be wanted her to do this. It was the right thing.

She called his name several times, then sighed when he didn’t stir. Typical Spike, sleeping like the dead.

Which, of course, he was, but it was still damned annoying.

Not in the mood to play this game today, she simply went over to the bed and tugged the sheet beneath him, bringing everything off the bed – Spike included.

His eyes snapped open as he hit the cold, hard floor, and he jumped up, looking around wildly for a moment before his eyes settled on Buffy. “Slayer! What the bloody hell…!?”

“Look, Spike, I’m only here for a moment, okay? I just…y’know, thought I owed it to you to tell you this in person.”

“Tell me what in…” Spike stopped, his face darkening. “Oh. It’s this again, is it?”

“No. Well, yes. Well, no, not the again. I mean it this time. I’m not having sex with you again. Ever.”

Spike sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “You’re honestly wanting to have this conversation while I’m naked?”

Buffy’s cheeks flared. “There is no conversation. There is just me making a statement and you accepting the statement.”

“Bollocks. I’m not accepting anything that we both know is total shite. Though I do have to say you dumping me out of bed and onto the floor in order to break things off with me – that’s a new level of bitch even for you, Slayer.”

“New level of… Ugh! See, this is why I don’t like you. And maybe could you put some pants on?”

“No. I was sleeping, and as soon as you stop this bloody nonsense and run back out of here, I’ll be sleeping again. Now why don’t you toddle along, untwist your knickers, and we’ll have ourselves a shag later tonight, yeah?”

“No! No more shagging, Spike! Aren’t you listening to me?”

“Yeah, I’m listening, but I’ve heard it before, and every time it still ends with your hands on the floor, your legs in the air, and me fucking you into next Tuesday. So let’s just cut this step for once.”

“I’m not playing a game with you, Spike.”

He snorted in response. “There’s a first. Like I’m honestly supposed to believe anything’s changed?”

“Something has changed!”

“Yeah? What?!”

“Edmund killed Isobel!”

Before Spike had a chance to ask what the bloody hell she was on about this time, Buffy fled the crypt. She ran back to Revello Drive, back to her room, back to her bed.

Where she promptly threw herself against the pillows and cried.

*** *** ***

Isobel stretched languidly against the sheets as she slowly floated back to consciousness. She felt…good. Sore, but good. Like all the tension had been magically drained from her body.

For the first few moments of wakefulness, Isobel had no idea where she was or what she was doing there. Then, the memories came back, and her skin turned crimson. She’d fornicated. With a vampire.

That was quite sinful indeed.

The things he’d done to her came back in a flood, all of them rushing into her mind, until…

With an outraged gasp, Isobel jumped from the bed, pulling off the sheets and using them to cover her body. “You…you monster!”

Edmund, who until that moment had been enjoying a rather nice afterglow, sat up and looked at her in shock. “What?”

“You bit me! Animal!”

Edmund arched a pale eyebrow. “I don’t remember hearing a protest from you at the time, Slayer. Although screams of pleasure…”

Isobel cut him off with a hard slap to the face.

“Christ’s blood, woman! What was that for?!”

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me! You said you wouldn’t hurt me and you…” Isobel’s face crumbled, and she couldn’t fight her tears. “You tried to kill me.”

“You believe that I would… Oh no, dove. Never. Never. I bit you for pleasure, not to harm you.”

“My Watcher taught me vampires only bite to kill,” Isobel said pitifully.

“I’m quite certain your Watcher taught you many things about my kind that are not true, sweet. Vampires bite for many reasons, and one of those is out of affection. Touch your neck. Are you still bleeding?”

Isobel brought her hand to her neck, and much to her surprise, brought back dry fingers. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

Edmund held his arms open. “Come back to bed and allow me to explain?”

Isobel bit her bottom lip, her hand still tightly clutching the sheet as she debated what she should do. What if it was all a trick and as soon as she joined him he would bite her again?

But if it were a trick and he only wished to harm her, then why did he not kill her when he had her so completely at his mercy?

Isobel made the decision to trust him.

“See, isn’t that better, Slayer?” Edmund asked as she climbed into the bed beside him and he wrapped his arms around her. “Vampires often bite when they do what we did. It’s another way to be close for us. But with you, I would never be anything but careful. You’re a treasure, Isobel.”

Isobel looked up at him, her eyes shimmering. “You’ve never called me by my Christian name before.”

“No? I should. It’s quite beautiful.”

“I rather like the name Edmund,” Isobel told him as she rubbed her head against his chest. She believed him when he told her he’d never meant to hurt her by biting her, and she was more than willing to stay in his arms for a while now. All of her life, she’d been told vampires were dangerous and cruel, yet she’d never felt more safe and cherished than she did in that moment.

Edmund chuckled and kissed her forehead. “I’m happy you do.” He ran his hand up her thigh, pushing the blanket out of the way to get another peek at her skin. “You aren’t too sore, are you, dove? I didn’t wish to hurt you, but I’m afraid it cannot be helped the first time.”

“I hurt some, but no more than after a hunt,” she admitted. “Mostly I feel simply wonderful.”

Her words made Edmund grin. “Then I am pleased. Next time, it will be easier for you.”

Isobel hummed in her throat and trailed her nails along Edmund’s muscular abdomen. “Then I shall have to return tomorrow and see if you are a man of your word.”

Edmund’s arms tightened around her and his smile fell. “Return? You had planned on leaving?”

Isobel looked up. “But I must, Edmund. I am a Slayer. I must continue to fulfill my duties.”

“But I do not wish for you to,” Edmund replied. “I took you into my bed, made you mine. You belong with me now.”

“I belong doing God’s work,” Isobel countered. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she looked stricken. “Father, what have I done? I… I have lain with a vampire! A demon!” She jumped from the bed and ran to her clothes, dressing as quickly as she could.

“Isobel, wait!” Edmund pleaded. “Don’t leave. Not like this. At least promise me you’ll return.”

Isobel shook her head. “No. I…I shall never return to you. What we did tonight…” She raised her chin. “You have bewitched me, foul demon. Made me corrupt myself in your bed. To think of it fills me with only loathing and disgust.”

“I never bewitched you!” Edmund protested. “I wouldn’t! Isobel, please!”

He reached for her and she jumped back. “Stay away from me! Touch me again and I will return you to hell!”

Something passed through Edmund’s green eyes, and for a moment, Isobel could’ve sworn he looked…heartbroken. But she knew it must be another one of his demon tricks, and she wouldn’t fall for it.

Instead, she ran back to the village, not stopping until she was safe inside the church once more. Again, the priest was waiting for her.

“Did you slay the creature?”

Isobel shook her head. “He had escaped the keep before I arrived. He must’ve known the girl would send me to him. I searched the woods for hours, but found nothing.”

The priest regarded her, and Isobel’s heart thudded with fear in her chest. Did he know? Was the mark of Satan upon her? Could this man of God see what she had done to debase herself so?

“Very well. This demon will not continue to evade you, I am sure, my child. Return to your quarters until nightfall, when you shall search for him again.”

Isobel lowered her head. “Yes, Father. I shall spend the hours praying for God to assist me in my endeavor.”

“Bless you, child,” the priest replied, before turning away from Isobel. She walked behind the altar to her chambers, collapsing to the ground as soon as she was alone.

Isobel crawled before the crucifix on the wall, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Forgive me, Father,” she pleaded. “I am made of weak, dirty flesh.” She wished to speak more, but her tears were coming too hard, and she fell into a fit of sobs, her silent prayers echoing in her mind.

Isobel feared she’d never be worthy of absolution.

*** *** ***

Buffy woke from her nap very confused. She’d thought for sure she had it all figured out. For one thing, the Powers rarely gave her Slayer dreams broken up into so many pieces, so she’d thought they’d be done with two. But here was a third one – given to her in the middle of the day, no less – and it seemed that her assumption about the ending of the last one had been a bit off.

Edmund had not killed Isobel.

However, the dream didn’t seem to be quite so pro vamp/Slayer lovin’ either.

Buffy had been able to feel Isobel’s guilt and self-loathing. It hadn’t been hard, given the fact she often felt the same thing after sleeping with Spike. Was that the point of these dreams? To tell her she was making the same mistake as a past Slayer, and that she needed to remember how wrong it was to share a bed – or whatever hard surface they managed to find, for that matter – with a vampire?

But the way Edmund had looked at Isobel when she’d been in his arms. His gentle voice, his soothing touch. It had been so much like…

No… She needed to quit thinking about him. So what if Edmund hadn’t killed Isobel? It didn’t make Buffy’s decision to end things with Spike once and for all any less the right one to make.

A vampire and a Slayer being together was just as wrong in 2001 as it had been in 1353.

Hopefully, the dreams could stop now. She’d gotten the message – couldn’t the Powers see that? Vampire plus Slayer equals bad. Memo received.

But damn, she missed Spike already.

Er, the sex. She missed the sex. Not Spike. You had to like someone to miss them, and she certainly didn’t like Spike. The sex had just been…good. After a bit of a dry spell.

But she didn’t miss Spike.

Maybe that’s why she was still having the dreams. Maybe Isobel could give her some pointers on how to stop craving sex with a vampire.

And if that were the case, she hoped the Powers got around to showing her that real soon.

Before she broke down and did something she knew she shouldn’t.

Buffy was tired. It was only a little before four in the afternoon, but she was positively exhausted. She felt like she could fall asleep right in the middle of the laundry she was trying to fold.

“Must be because instead of getting any actual rest, I’ve been reliving Love in the Time of the Bubonic Plague,” Buffy muttered to herself. That was the real kick with Slayer dreams. It seemed like every time she had one, she woke up more tired than she’d been when she’d gone to bed.

“Day off from the Palace of the Doublemeat?”

Buffy jumped, startled, then realized it was just her sister coming home from school. “Oh, hey Dawn. Yeah.”

“I figured, since you’re here and you’re making with the chores. And what’s with you being all jumpy Buffy? Not so big with the Slayer senses today?” Dawn said, leaning against the entryway to the living room, her bookbag slung over her shoulder.

Buffy rolled up a pair of socks and tossed them with the other folded laundry. “I just haven’t been sleeping too well. Weird dreams.”

“Slayer dreams?” Dawn asked, concern obvious on her face.

“Maybe. I don’t know. They’re just…” Buffy sighed, not sure she really wanted to share the story of Isobel and Edmund with anyone. “They’re just weird.”

“Are you eating ice cream and pizza before bed?”

Buffy laughed softly. “No. But they’re still there, every time I close my eyes. Even when I try to nap.”

Dawn frowned at that. “They aren’t like, coming of the apocalypse dreams, are they? Because I really don’t like it when you have those.” She shivered.

“No, they’re…” Buffy blushed slightly, an image of Isobel and Edmund writhing on Edmund’s bed popping into her mind. “They’re not apocalypse dreams. It’s more… It’s more like the ones I had before I was Called. Where I’d dream about Slayers from the past.”

“So it’s like a nightly history lesson? That does suck.”

“That part isn’t so bad. Except for the whole Bubonic Plague in Technicolor Smell-o-Vision thing.”

Dawn wrinkled her nose. “Okay, ew. God, I’d be popping No-Doz like candy if I was dreaming about that. Yuck.”

Buffy shook her head and chuckled. “I’ve been handling that part, too. It’s just…” She sighed, wondering if maybe she’d feel better if she just got a little bit of it off her chest – even if she’d never in a million years give Dawn all the details. “I don’t know why I’m having them. They feel like Slayer dreams, only I always have Slayer dreams for a reason, and these make no sense to me at all. I keep getting little snippets of the same story, and none of it is fitting into place for me.”

Dawn dropped her bookbag and came over to the couch, moving Buffy’s laundry basket to the floor before sitting down beside your sister. “Well, let’s see if we can figure it out then.”

“I don’t think that’s really necessary, Dawnie,” Buffy protested.

“No, it’ll be cool,” Dawn insisted. “I’m taking psychology as a social studies elective this semester, and we’ve been doing all this stuff about dream interpretation. It’s fun.” She cleared her throat and sat up straight. “So you said it’s about a Slayer from the past, right? Do you have anything in common with her?”

Other than the fact they were both banging the undead? “Nope,” Buffy replied. “I mean, besides the whole we’re both Slayers thing. We’re nothing alike. She’s all big with the praying and…stuff. She’s like a nun.” Who has really hot vampire sex…

“So what’s she doing?” Dawn asked. “Other than being all surrounded by plague and praying? Any Big Bads?”

“Just one vampire,” Buffy replied, looking down.

“So maybe that’s it,” Dawn said. “Maybe there’s some really old vampire coming to town and the Powers are trying to warn you.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Buffy said with a shake of her head. “He doesn’t really seem…” Buffy trailed off, her eyes widening. Maybe that was it! Maybe Edmund had become all bitter from Isobel’s rejection and now he had a vendetta against Slayers. Maybe he was going to come to Sunnydale and try to kill her.

That would make sense…

She dumped the unfolded laundry from her lap to the couch and jumped up. “I have to go, Dawnie. Thanks.”

Dawn sat on the couch, blinking as Buffy ran out of the house. “Um, you’re welcome?” she replied to the slamming of the door.

*** *** ***

“Well, that was quick,” Spike said from his chair as Buffy came bursting into his crypt. “Only made it five hours this time, did you?”

“Shut up, Spike,” Buffy snapped as she stormed over to him, arms crossed over her chest. “I’m so not here for sex.”

“Come to beat me up then?”

“If I have to. I need information.”

Spike sighed. “God, is that all I am to you? Your sex slave/informant?”

“And again, I say, shut up. I’m looking for a vampire that might be in town. Named Edmund?”

Spike frowned, as if were thinking hard for a moment before he replied with, “Yeah, Edmund. I heard of him. Killed Isobel.”

Buffy gasped. “He did?”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Hell if I know, but that’s the completely cryptic bit of shite you threw at me when you were ‘breaking up’ with me this morning.”

“Okay, first off, take the breaking up out of air quotes, Spike, because it was completely for real. And secondly, stop being an asshole. This is serious.”

Spike jumped out of his chair and threw his arms in the air. “What’s bloody serious, Slayer? Fuck, I thought you were crazy before, but this… You’re making all of no sense. Who the hell are Isobel and Edmund, and why are you looking for them?”

“I’m not. Well, okay, I am looking for Edmund. But not Isobel, because she’s dead.”

“Because Edmund killed her…”

“Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know. But I’m sure she’s dead. It could’ve been the Bubonic Plague, though.”

“The…” Spike blinked. “What the hell are you on about, Slayer?”

“Look, I don’t want to get into this, okay? But I’ve been having these Slayer dreams, and I didn’t know what they were about, but then I was talking to Dawn, and she said maybe they were warning me of a new Big Bad, and the only vampire in them is this one named Edmund, so I thought maybe he was in town.”

“So what do Isobel and the Bubonic Plague have to do with anything?”

Buffy sighed. “Isobel’s the Slayer in the dream. And…and it’s during the plague.”

“And Isobel’s hunting this Edmund?”

“Uh huh,” Buffy replied.

Spike may have believed that was all there was to it – if her response hadn’t been so damn chipper. He knew what it meant when Buffy suddenly got so perky and her voice went up to that ear-piercing level.

She was hiding something.

“You’re not telling me the whole story, Slayer. Spill.”

Buffy wrapped her arms tightly around herself. “No.”

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

“Look, they’re Slayer dreams, Spike. And since you’re not a Slayer, you aren’t privy to them.”

A slow grin spread across Spike’s face. “Oh, I get it. This Isobel bird’s been shagging Edmund, hasn’t she?”

“No!” Buffy insisted, though the blush on her cheeks said it all.

Spike threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, this is rich. You’ve been having naughty dreams about a vampire and a Slayer. I love it.”

“They are not…” Buffy lowered her voice down to a whisper, “naughty dreams.”

“Please,” Spike replied with a snort. “Although really, makes sense some other chosen chit would’ve wanted a good rough and tumble with a vamp.”

“You know, I’m not even sure they’re Slayer dreams,” Buffy snapped. “They could just be… Something else.”

“Just your subconscious reminding you how hot vampires make you?”

“See! This is why I hate you! This right here!”

“Yeah, heard that one already, Slayer. I’m not impressed. So what’s up with Isobel and Edmund, huh? You said this morning he killed her, but…”

Buffy sighed in resignation. “I thought he did. But then I took a nap, and apparently he just bit her. She’s fine. Or at least she was in 1353. Somehow I doubt she’s still alive and kicking.”

“And what makes you think ol’ Eddie’s out to get you now?”

“Isobel dumped him.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Maybe he’s all bitter and wants to kill Slayers?”

Spike shook his head. “I don’t think so. If there was some vamp who had it out for Slayers since 1353, I’d know. Trust me. I was the only one of my kind daft enough to actively hunt them for sport.”

“Gee, thanks for that little reminder,” Buffy said with a frown.

“Look, Buffy,” Spike said, taking a step closer to her. “Maybe this isn’t about a new baddie in town at all. Maybe the Powers are just trying to let you know you’re not alone.”

“Huh?”

Spike sighed. She could be so bloody slow sometimes… “Look, here’s another Slayer who slept with a vampire, yeah? And I assume this Edmund wasn’t all soul-having like your poofter ex?”

“No, he’s not,” Buffy admitted.

“So then maybe that’s the point to your dreams, pet. Maybe they’re trying to tell you that it’s a little more normal for a Slayer to want a vampire than you’ve been led to believe.”

“That would be the spin you’d put on it,” Buffy snapped. “But you’re totally off base. If anything, they’re trying to warn me before I make the same mistake Isobel made.”

“Buffy…”

“No. God, I never should’ve come back here. All you ever do is try to twist everything into a reason why I should sleep with you, and…”

Before Buffy could say anything else, Spike was on her, his mouth silencing her latest tirade. She fought him for a moment, but Spike held fast, and Buffy soon gave in to what they both wanted.

Spike swept her off her feet and carried her downstairs to his bed.

*** *** ***

For three days, Isobel hadn’t seen a sign of Edmund. She continued her nightly hunts, though she stayed away from the keep.

While dead bodies continued to pile up in the village, no one reported anyone dying from strange marks on their necks and the body drained of blood. As far as she could tell, there were no signs of Edmund at all. It was almost as if he’d never been in the village.

She may have been able to believe that if her body didn’t still bear the memories of his touch…

Isobel was coming to the conclusion he’d left the village completely. It was the only logical thing to do, really. Despite what had…transpired between them, she was still a Slayer and he a vampire. Vampires with any sense at all left villages that had a Slayer in them.

It would be for the best if he had gone. This village would be safe and she would not longer have to hunt for him. As much as she was loathed to admit it, Isobel wasn’t sure she’d be able to bring herself to stake Edmund, even if he had bewitched her in order to rob her of her purity.

She had to know for certain if he was gone, and Isobel knew the only way she could do that would be to finally enter the keep. If Edmund was still in the village, then that was surely where he’d be.

Isobel reached the keep only to stop in front of it, pacing back and forth for quite a while as she debated whether or not she should really do this. What if Edmund wasn’t gone? What would happen if she entered the keep and found him still there? Would she succumb to his spell again?

Only of course he wouldn’t be there. Why would a vampire lock himself away in a keep for days? He was already off, tormenting some other village. She’d simply enter the keep, find no signs of him, and be done, ready to return to her Watcher.

With a deep breath, Isobel stepped past the door of the keep, frowning when she found no lit torches. She followed the cool, stone walls with her hands, remembering from touch where Edmund’s bed chambers had been.

Light peeked out from beneath the closed door, and Isobel’s breath caught in her throat. Surely he wasn’t…he couldn’t be! He must’ve simply left a candle burning. For three days.

Her hand shook as it rested on the wooden door, her mind providing all sorts of pictures of what could be on the other side. If Edmund were there, would he finally kill her? Would he give her the death she most assuredly deserved for her wicked behavior?

Would he attempt to seduce her again?

Her heart thudding madly, she pushed the door open and peeked inside. Isobel gasped at her first view of Edmund. He was lying on the bed, his skin even more pale that usual. He looked…ill.

Could vampires suffer from the plague? Isobel certainly hoped not…

Everything else forgotten, Isobel ran to Edmund’s bedside, her warm hand brushing against his face. “Edmund? What’s happened to you?”

He turned to her, his brow wrinkled as he studied her face. “Isobel?”

“Yes, it’s Isobel.” She cleared her throat and asked again. “What’s happened to you, Edmund? Are you hurt?”

“Only my heart.”

“What?”

“You left me,” he whispered. “I finally found you, and you left me.”

“Found me?” Isobel asked, confused. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I’ve been alone for a century, Isobel. Alone and dead. Then I met you, and it was if I could touch sunshine again. You’re so warm, so alive. I need you…”

In an instant, she forgot everything she was.

“Oh, Edmund, you silly vampire,” Isobel said gently as she sat beside him on the bed, taking his hand into hers. “Have you been here this whole time, grieving over me?”

Edmund nodded.

“You look terrible. Have you not even fed?”

Edmund shook his head. “I knew you’d be quite upset with me if I did. I didn’t want to hurt you anymore.”

Looking at him now told Isobel there had been no spell, no bewitching. If anyone had been bewitched, clearly it had been Edmund… “You didn’t hurt me, Edmund,” she assured him. “It’s all right.”

“Is it?” Edmund asked softly.

“Yes.” Isobel let go of his hand and brushed her dark brown hair away from her neck, exposing what was left of the marks he’d put on her neck. “Here, love. Drink from me now and regain your strength.”

It was wrong, Isobel knew. Feeding a vampire must be the ultimate betrayal to her Calling. But it felt so right. He felt right. For the first time in her life, she could look into someone’s eyes and know she belonged.

He accepted her offer, sank his fangs into her neck, and she no longer cared if she were damned.

Isobel had never imagined a vampire bite could be gentle. But as Edmund held her against his strong chest, sipping from her neck, she knew there was no other way to describe this one. It was a kiss of the deepest kind, a bond forged that Isobel now knew nothing could break.

Her Calling, her duty, her vows… None of it mattered now.

There was only them.

There was only love.

In the darkness of his crypt, Spike woke to the sound of Buffy’s soft tears…

“Buffy? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Buffy sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Nothing. I…I should go.”

“No. Come on, kitten, talk to me,” Spike prodded. “Did you have another dream?”

“I’m not talking about this,” Buffy snapped. “It’s late, and Dawn’s alone. I have to…”

“Stop using her as an excuse,” Spike said sharply as he sat up in the bed. “You running out of here doesn’t have a sodding thing to with Dawn. It’s all because of you being unable to cope.”

“I never should’ve come here today,” Buffy muttered as she got out of the bed, searching the dark crypt for her clothes. “And did you steal my underwear again?”

“Ripped ‘em,” Spike reminded her. “They’re useless now. Wherever they are. But c’mon, Buffy. Just get back into bed, and we’ll talk about things.”

“We do not have a talking relationship,” Buffy replied as she pulled on her jeans.

“We used to.”

There was a sadness to his voice, but Buffy refused to let herself be softened by it. She was too much of a jumbled mess to try to figure out anything with Spike right now. The last dream had changed everything in an instant. She didn’t just see the events – she felt what Isobel felt. She experienced the moment when Isobel had let the wall fall down around her heart and allowed Edmund in.

And it terrified the hell out of Buffy.

Spike was calling her name as she ran out of the crypt, but she didn’t stop, didn’t listen. She had to get away, needed to find a place she could breathe.

She needed to know if the dreams were real…

Buffy knew there was only one way for her to figure out if they were actually Slayer dreams or if she was simply losing her mind. Giles had left behind several books he thought might be of use to her when he’d returned to England, including a written log of the Slayers of the past. If she couldn’t find a mention of a Slayer named Isobel who had lived in the mid-1300’s, then she’d know it was nothing but her brain making with the crazy.

But if there had been an Isobel…

Buffy decided not to dwell on what that could mean until she actually saw it. Until then, she’d hold out hope that there really had never been an Isobel the Medieval Vampire Slayer.

The Magic Box was dark and deserted when Buffy arrived, and she entered quietly through the back door before going down to the basement where Giles had left the books. She dug around until she found the large, leather-bound tome, and then cleared a spot off on a table to set it down.

Her hands trembled as she flipped through the yellowed pages, her eyes scanning lists of exploits of Slayers from long ago. Some entries consisted of mere dates, while others included a brief description of battles and accomplishments.

However, one line seemed to jump from its page.

Isobel (b. 1338, c.1352, d. 1353)

Nothing else. No elaboration, nothing to make her anymore than a footnote in history. As if she’d never accomplished a thing.

As if she’d never been loved…

Buffy slipped down to the ground, covering her face as her tears fell. Isobel had been real. Her dreams were real.

And Isobel was going to die… Soon.

Would Edmund be the one to do it? Somehow, Buffy didn’t believe he would be.

Much to her surprise, Buffy found her heart aching for both of them. If her rejection of him had brought Edmund so much pain, what would Isobel’s death do to him? How would he cope with the loss?

Was Edmund still around? Or had he caught the first sunrise after Isobel’s death?

And why did she care so much about what happened to a vampire?

Buffy was exhausted. For months, everything had been too much for her to handle, and now this, too? She looked up to the ceiling and yelled at the Powers That Be. “Why are you doing this to me!” she demanded to know. “If you have something to tell me, just fucking tell me!”

She got no answer but silence. She hadn’t really been expecting anything else.

Every piece of her aching, Buffy pulled herself up off the ground and started for home.

*** *** ***

Isobel bit her lip to fight her laughter. She knew her heartbeat would give her away, but she didn’t need to make this even easier.

“I can smell you, Slayer,” Edmund announced, sing-song. “You can’t hide for long…”

Isobel closed her eyes, counted to three, and then burst from her hiding place, running down the hall of the keep and past Edmund – without a stitch of clothing on.

“You witch!” Edmund bellowed, though his laughter was not far behind. “I will capture you, strumpet.” He ran after her, then came to an abrupt stop when he realized her trail had stopped. He closed his eyes, searching for her scent.

Suddenly, he was tackled to the ground by a giggling Slayer.

“It appears as if I have caught you,” Isobel informed him with a proud smile.

“And I suppose you expect a reward?” Edmund asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Yes, and I shall have it,” Isobel replied before sliding down his body.

A moment later, Edmund groaned. “Wouldn’t that be my reward, Isobel?” he asked between pants.

Isobel slid her mouth up his cock and kissed the tip. “No. Definitely my reward,” she replied before engulfing him again with a moan of pure indulgence.

“Christ’s blood, Slayer, you’re too good to me,” Edmund informed her as he threaded his fingers through her thick, dark hair.

She hummed in response, and Edmund was all but undone. He dragged her up and positioned her over his cock. “Like this, dove. I want it like this.”

Isobel smiled, all vixen now. In the nights they’d spent together, he’d banished the uninformed virgin, replacing her with a woman who was more his equal than any other he’d ever known.

And to prove it she sank down on him, letting him fill her completely. Within moments, she was riding him at a hard, unforgiving pace, her impossibly strong internal muscles squeezing him until he thought he’d burst.

She threw her head back, her long hair tickling his legs, and Edmund knew he was already close. He held on, wanting her with him when he fell…

Suddenly, her head snapped up, her eyes almost completely black. She lunged forward, grabbed the flesh of his neck between her teeth, and bit down as hard as she could.

Edmund called out, came, and lost himself completely to her.

*** *** ***

Every night when Isobel finally left the keep, Edmund would beg her to run away with him instead. He knew it would only be a matter of time until someone in the village discovered what she was doing and all would be ruined for them.

Isobel had insisted his fears were nonsense. The priest hadn’t questioned her once when she’d returned from her supposed hunts and no one in the village came near the keep anymore out of fear. Things were fine for the time being, and she was free from the careful eye of her Watcher as long as they were there.

Truth be told, Isobel was afraid to make that last step. Afraid to truly turn her back on her Calling completely in favor of a vampire.

No matter how wonderful that vampire made her feel…

She didn’t understand his fear that they would be separated. The village was too preoccupied with the plague to possibly care about the comings and goings of one girl. Furthermore, she had the protection of the Church. As long as she could convincingly remain in the village “hunting for vampires,” then nothing could touch them.

By the time Isobel realized Edmund had been correct, it was too late.

A crowd had gathered outside the church, the flames of their torches brightening the night. Isobel approached with trepidation, her heart thudding rapidly. When a villager turned towards her, she froze, her blood chilling with fear.

“She’s come! The Devil’s whore!”

Isobel gasped, the world seeming to spin. Suddenly, people were surrounding her, pulling at her limbs and hair, dragging her towards the church. They threw her at the feet of the priest, and Isobel looked up at him, tears in her eyes.

“Father, please protect me. You…you know who I am.”

He sneered at her, his dark eyes cold. “Yes, I do know what you are, witch. You have lain with the Devil. Did you not think I would see his stain upon your neck?”

“Please, Father… I’m not a witch. I…”

The priest kicked her, making Isobel stumble backwards, her lip bleeding. “Silence, filthy creature! Your lies cannot sway me. You have brought pestilence to this village with your unholy ways, and you will pay for your sins.”

“No! I haven’t!” Isobel insisted, though the heavy feeling in her heart told her perhaps she had. Had she cursed this village even further by straying from her path, by allowing herself to be corrupted by Edmund?

Yet, she didn’t feel corrupted. She knew Edmund was a vampire, but everything he did to her had felt so right, and nothing like a sin.

“Your fate has been decided,” the priest told her. “You have been found guilty of the crime of witchcraft, and while I will attempt to wrest a confession from you, whether you offer one or not, you will be put to death for your crimes tomorrow.”

“No!” Isobel sobbed. “Please, Father, no! I am innocent!” This couldn’t be happening to her. What would Edmund do if they killed her? She couldn’t leave him. She couldn’t. “Please…”

Her pleas for mercy were cut off when she was grabbed by two men who began to drag her towards the church. She pushed them off, using the full might of her Slayer strength, but the attacks just kept coming.

There were too many of them and, Slayer or not, she was just one girl.

*** *** ***

Buffy ran from her bed to the bathroom, vomiting up the meager contents of her stomach. She’d known things were going to end badly, but this…

She flushed the toilet and leaned back against the bathroom wall, tears in her eyes. Isobel hadn’t deserved this. Buffy had seen it all with her own eyes, and the other Slayer had committed no crime.

All she’d done was fall in love…

A knock at the door cut off Buffy’s train of thought and she looked up when her sister’s voice came through. “Buffy? Are you all right? I thought I heard you in here yakking.”

Buffy stood up on shaky legs and opened the door to face Dawn. “Hey. Yeah, I was, but I’m all right.”

Dawn frowned at the sight of her sister. “No offense, Buffy, but you look like hell. What’s wrong?”

“I had another dream,” Buffy admitted with a sigh. “The Slayer – Isobel – she was accused of witchcraft. It…it wasn’t pretty.”

Dawn put her hand to her mouth and gasped. “Oh no! Did you…did you dream about her dying?”

“No,” Buffy replied, shaking her head. “But it’s coming. I know it is. I…I looked her up tonight in one of Giles’s books, and she’s going to die.” Tears welled up in Buffy’s eyes again. “Edmund won’t be able to save her.”

“Edmund?” Dawn asked with a frown. “Who’s Edmund?”

Buffy paled as she realized she’d said too much. “Nothing, I should go back to bed.”

Only if she went back to bed, if she started to dream again…

She’d have to watch Isobel die…

“Are you sure? You look pretty upset, Buffy.”

“I’m fine,” Buffy insisted. “I’m just really tired.”

“You don’t look fine,” Dawn said. “Are you sure you don’t need to talk to someone? If…if not me, then someone else. Maybe…” Dawn took a deep breath. “Maybe Spike?”

Buffy’s eyes grew wide. “Spike? Why would you think I’d want to talk to Spike?”

Dawn shrugged. “He’s a good listener. And I’ve seen you around with him a lot recently. I thought maybe you guys were, y’know, talking about stuff?”

Buffy laughed nervously. “No way. That’s funny, Dawnie. Me talking to Spike about…stuff.”

Dawn looked at her sister skeptically. “Okay. I just thought I’d offer. Are you really sure you’re going to be fine?”

“Yeah. I will be. I’ll just have to make myself dream about…something happier.”

“Yeah, all right,” Dawn said, though she clearly didn’t believe her. “You’ll call me if you need anything, right?”

“I will. Go on back to bed.”

Dawn gave Buffy one more skeptical look before giving up and going back to her own room.

Buffy got back into bed and wondered how long she could fight sleep.

Isobel slumped in her chains, her body broken and bloodied. The priest hadn’t let up since he’d brought her into the church, but she had refused to speak, refused to give him what he wanted.

He could do to her what he wished; he would not break her.

“The fate of your flesh is sealed, my child, but there is still time to save your soul. Confess your sins, denounce your demon lover, and ask God for forgiveness.”

Isobel raised her head, her eyes still holding the fire no mere man could take from her. “I shall never denounce him.”

“The fires are already being started, child. Your death is imminent. This is your final chance to save your soul.”

Isobel took a breath, pulling strength deep within her body, and spit in his face.

The priest wiped the spittle away with a cold sneer. “Then may God have mercy on your soul – though I doubt he shall have any at all.”

He left her alone, and Isobel let herself hang loosely, fighting tears now that she was alone. She wasn’t afraid of death. As a Slayer, she was always prepared for the end, knowing that every night could be her last. And to be given the gift of love, even as brief as it had been – she could die knowing her life had not been without meaning.

But Edmund… The tears she wished to cry now were not for herself, but for him. She wished that she had listened to him, that she had run away with him before it had become too late. He would be alone now, forced to return to the loneliness he had known in the century before he’d found her.

She had let him down, and for that, yes, Isobel had regrets.

The priest returned, three large men behind him, and Isobel knew it was time. She would hold her head up high, refuse to show any weakness. She would die proud.

She would die a Slayer.

The men took her down from the wall, and Isobel fell forward, her limbs useless after the time she’d spent at the priest’s mercy. She wanted to fight, wanted to run, but her body had betrayed her, proving weaker than she knew.

The villagers were gathered outside the church, lit torches in their hands, as she was dragged towards where she would burn. She wished she could see Edmund one last time, look into his eyes and know he’d survive without her, that he’d learn how to go on.

She wanted to see his deep, green eyes one last time before she died…

Instead, she was brought broken and bloodied to the stake, cries for her death ringing in her ears as she was bound to the wood.

She stared forward as they lit the kindling around her, the fire at her feet roaring to life. Within moments, the heat was unbearable, smoke rising to fill her lungs.

They wanted her to scream.

She would not.

The fire burned stronger, caging her in, and Isobel closed her eyes, thinking only of Edmund, wanting her last thoughts to be of him and him alone.

A roar pierced the night, and Isobel’s heart began to thud in her chest. It couldn’t be… Was he here?

“ISOBEL!!!!”

The nearly-inhuman bellowing of her name pierced the night, and Isobel sighed, a small piece of hope sparking inside of her. He was there. He’d come for her.

She could see him…

The villagers screamed, scrambling to escape the enraged vampire barreling through the crowd, tearing apart anyone who dared come near him. He ran to Isobel, undaunted by the deadly fire blazing around her.

“Edmund…no…” Isobel moaned, her head lolling to the side. “You’ll…you’ll burn.”

He said nothing in response as he ripped the ropes that kept her bound, ignoring how deadly the flames raging around them were to him. He’d face any peril for her…

She slumped forward into his arms, and Edmund leapt over the flames again. Roaring at the few villagers who tried to stop him. “I’ll kill anyone who dares to touch her!” he yelled, his body trembling as he held Isobel close. “I’ll murder you all for what you’ve done to her!”

The priest stepped forward, undaunted by Edmund’s fury. “It is you who has brought her to this fate, demon. Your touch corrupted her, made her filthy. It is you who doomed her to burn.”

Edmund’s yellow eyes flickered with the flame light. “No, it was you who did this to her,” he growled. “You’re more demon than I could ever be.”

“Your whore turned against the Lord. She deserved every lash I placed upon her pale skin.”

Edmund roared, swiping out with his strong arm, knocking the priest from his feet and into the flames surrounding the stake. He screamed as the fire consumed him, and Edmund watched him burn, his expression grim.

“Edmund…” Isobel whispered, her lips against his neck. His face shifted back to human as he looked down at her.

“You’re safe now, dove,” he said, his cool had caressing her skin, soothing her burns. “You’re safe.”

Isobel shook her head slowly, a weak smile on her face. “I love you, Edmund.”

His face fell as he realized what she meant, what was happening. He’d come for her. He’d saved her. She couldn’t… “Isobel, please…no, don’t leave me,” Edmund begged her, seeing the fire dying in her eyes. “You can’t… I can’t… Isobel, please. You’re strong, Slayer… Be strong.”

She wanted to do what he asked, wanted to be strong just for him, but Isobel knew she could not. Even before Edmund had arrived, she was too far gone, the torments she’d received at the priest’s hand too much. “I love you,” she repeated again, allowing herself on last look at his beautiful face before her eyes fluttered closed.

The last thing she heard was Edmund’s anguished cry.

*** *** ***

Buffy woke up and immediately broke into sobs, her whole body shaking. She’d known what was coming, known Isobel wasn’t going to survive, and yet watching it, living it…

It had been too much for her to bear.

Isobel had been accepting of her fate. She hadn’t wanted it, hadn’t wished to die so young, but she had accepted it. She knew her place, knew what it meant to be a Slayer.

But Edmund…

The bottomless sorrow in his eyes, his voice. How he’d been willing to take on the world if need be to save her, and yet he’d still failed…

It was heart wrenching, and Buffy couldn’t stand it.

The house was still, and Buffy knew she was alone. She was already late for her Doublemeat shift, but honestly, she couldn’t find it in her to care.

She was exhausted, she was worn down to the bone.

She was lonely…

Buffy got out of bed and dressed quickly, tears still falling down her face. She couldn’t be alone, not now, not with this aching inside of her. She left the house, walking down the street as if pulled by something greater than herself.

She found Spike asleep in his bed, yet she didn’t try to wake him. Instead, she slipped off her clothes and climbed in under the sheets beside him, needing the feel of his cool skin against hers. He made a soft murmuring sound in his sleep, pulled her closer into his arms, but didn’t wake.

Buffy fell into a dreamless sleep.

She didn’t know if she found comfort in that or not.

*** *** ***

Buffy stretched as she moved towards consciousness, feeling decidedly more rested than she had in quite some time. She opened her eyes, then blushed when she saw Spike staring intently at her and remembered climbing into his bed before.

“Not that I’m going to complain, pet, but mind telling me what you’re doing all naked and under my covers?”

“I didn’t want to sleep alone,” Buffy admitted.

Spike frowned. “Another one of those Slayer dreams, luv?”

“Yeah,” she replied with a nod. “I think…I think it was the last of them, though. Isobel’s really dead now.”

“Was it Edmund?”

“No. He tried to save her, but…but he was too late.” Buffy swallowed hard. “She was burned at the stake.”

Spike winced. “Poor girl. Not a fitting end for a Slayer at all.”

“I know. I was almost burned at the stake once myself, thanks to freaking Hansel and Gretel.”

“What?”

“Long story.”

“Yeah, I’d wager it would be.” Spike tucked Buffy’s hair behind her ear. “Do you need to talk about things, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know. The whole thing just has me all in knots. The dreams didn’t make any sense to me. Isobel was a Slayer, but she was completely in love with Edmund. And…and Edmund… He treated her like she was the most precious thing in the world to him, even though he was a vampire.”

“And? These things do happen, you know.”

“But it’s not like they got some sort of happy ending, Spike. She died and left him all alone. And…and even though she wished she could’ve run away with him like he asked her to, she never did, and…” Buffy fought the urge to cry again. “I don’t know why the Powers made me see that.”

“No? I think it should be pretty bloody obvious. You said earlier that maybe they were showing it to you so you wouldn’t make the same mistake Isobel made. Well, she let herself lose Edmund. Maybe they’re telling you not to make that mistake.”

Buffy sighed. “Yeah, and again, you’re trying to make this about us.”

“It is about us,” Spike yelled, having about as much of her crazy denial of the obvious as he could stand. “Why else would the Powers send you dreams about a Slayer that loved a vampire at this particular point in your life, huh? I don’t suppose they sent you any of those when you were with Angelus…”

Buffy worried her bottom lip. Okay, well, they hadn’t, but maybe they were just running a little late… Only she really didn’t like that theory, so she decided to simply not dwell on it at all.

“I know you feel something for me, Slayer, and I know it’s not disgust or loathing or whatever you’re calling it today. I know it’s something strong, it’s something real, and I’m willing to wager it’s the same thing your Isobel and Edmund felt for each other, too. You’re wasting your time trying to figure out why you had these dreams when the answer’s as obvious as if the Powers had opted to send you a flashing neon sign instead.”

Spike cupped Buffy’s chin and forced her to look into his eyes. “Did Edmund love Isobel?”

Buffy thought about how Edmund had looked at Isobel as she’d lay dying in his arms, and there was only one answer she could give. “Yes.”

“And did she love him?”

She’d felt Isobel’s emotions as strongly as if they were her own. “Yes.”

“Then why in the name of all the bloody hells would the Powers That Be send you dreams about a vampire and a Slayer who fell in love if they were trying to condemn such a pairing?”

“I don’t know!” Buffy exclaimed. “But this can’t be right, Spike. We can’t be right. We…” She broke off into tears.

Spike pulled her into his arms. “Shh… It’s all right, kitten. Don’t cry now. It’s been a trying time for you, I know. But it’s all right now. You don’t have to keep fighting it.”

“Yes, Spike, I do,” Buffy insisted as she worked herself free of his grip, then got off the bed and found her clothes.

Knowing this next bit by heart, Spike decided he was going to change things up a bit this time. He got up and dressed as she did, and when she ran from his crypt, he followed right after her.

Buffy stopped short with the vampire on her heels and turned to face him. “I’m running off, Spike. Can’t you take a hint?”

“From you, no, seeing as the meanings behind your hints change every fucking second! I’m tired of this game, Slayer. Neither one of us is getting anywhere from playing it, so…” Spike stopped suddenly and moved Buffy so she was now slightly behind him. “Vampire.”

Spike pulled a stake from his duster, but stopped when Buffy grabbed his arm.

“Spike, wait, don’t. That’s…that’s Edmund.”

His gaze bounced between the other vampire and the Slayer at his side. “That’s… Really? Are you sure?” he asked Buffy softly.

“Positive. I…” Buffy stopped short, gasping as she saw a woman with long brown hair step from the shadows and take her place at Edmund’s side.

The woman smiled as her hand slid into Edmund’s.

“Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I presume?”

Buffy blinked rapidly, unable to believe she was really seeing what she seemed to be seeing. It…it couldn’t be possible. “Isobel?”

“In the flesh,” Isobel replied with a shrug. “I’m guessing from the whole ‘seen a ghost’ expression you have going on, the Powers have been playing dream genie with you, too.”

“Yeah, they… Wait, too?”

Isobel chuckled at Buffy’s confused expression. “I’ve been having dreams about you all week. My best guess is the PTB felt like facilitating a meeting.”

“I…I’m not really understanding any of this,” Buffy said, looking warily at Isobel. “You were dead, and… And why was I even dreaming about you? Why would the Powers want me to dream about you? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Isobel looked Buffy over for a moment before she glanced back at Spike. “You have my sincere sympathies.”

Spike chuckled. “Thanks, pet. Glad someone understands my pain.”

“Your…” Buffy stomped her foot. “Would someone please just explain to me what’s going on here?”

“We need to have a little chat, sweetie,” Isobel said, taking a step closer to Buffy. “From what I’ve seen over the past few nights, well… Is there somewhere we can go and talk in private?”

Buffy knew she should be more wary of going off with a woman claiming to be a Slayer who had died roughly six and a half centuries earlier, but somehow she knew it was Isobel – and, thanks to the dreams – Isobel felt like someone she’d known for years. “We could go back to my house,” Buffy suggested.

Isobel nodded. “That’ll be fine.” She reached out and touched Edmund’s arm, “Honey, why don’t you stay here with Spike? Have some vampire bonding time. You can lament how annoying we Slayers are.” She gave him a wink.

Edmund smirked down at her. “If we start on that, we’ll be tied up for the next few years, baby.”

“Oh, very funny,” Isobel replied, though the stern look she tried to give him quickly melted away and she kissed him instead.

Buffy watched their interaction with a sense of awe. Had they really been together all these years? Could two people – a vampire and a Slayer no less! – actually forge a relationship strong enough to stand such an extreme test of time?

And if Isobel and Edmund could make it work…

“I’ll come find you when we’re done,” Isobel promised Edmund, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He leaned down to kiss her again.

“All right. Love you, Slayer.”

“You, too, vampire,” she replied with a wink. Then, Isobel turned back to Buffy. “Let’s get a move on. We have a lot to discuss.”

Buffy nodded, knowing Isobel was right there. And if the woman had this whole crazy dream thing figured out, well, she wanted to know the answer.

As the two Slayers started to walk off, Isobel looked over her shoulder, giving the vampires a wink. “You boys behave yourselves,” she teased with a laugh. Then, she turned back around, following Buffy out of the graveyard.

For several moments, Spike and Edmund were both silent, standing with their hands shoved in their pockets as they rocked back on their heels. “So…” Spike said, finally breaking the silence. “In love with a Slayer, too?”

“Yeah. Woman got a hold of me in 1353, and I haven’t been the same vamp since.”

Spike chuckled. “I know the feeling, mate.” He cleared his throat. “So, um, Isobel… Does she ever, uh, punch you in the nose?”

Edmund sighed. “All the damn time.”

*** *** ***

Buffy was silent the entire walk back to her house, unsure of what to say to Isobel now that she was here. Her first thought was that Edmund must’ve turned Isobel and the dream simply hadn’t shown it, but she was getting none of the usual vamp tingles, and Isobel’s breathing seemed more regular than habitual.

That and she was wearing several silver crosses on chains of varying lengths around her neck. Usually a sign you weren’t dealing with the undead…

“Well, this is it,” Buffy said as they walked up the porch at 1630 Revello Drive. “My house.”

“I figured that from the whole thing where you were fishing your keys out of your pocket.”

Buffy blushed slightly. “Sorry. I’m just all nervous girl. I mean, I woke up this afternoon dreaming about you being all dead back in the 1300’s, and then here you are, standing in front of my house. Alive.” She frowned. “You are alive, aren’t you?”

“Oh no, I’m a zombie.” Isobel was only able to hold her straight face for a moment, as Buffy’s shocked expression made her burst into giggles. “Yes, I’m alive. That’s actually one of the things we need to talk about. But inside would probably be better. There’s…there’s a good bit we need to discuss, and I’m going to go out on a limb and guess you’re going to think it’s pretty personal and best kept private.”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah, okay. Come on.” She unlocked the door and stepped inside, hoping she could get Isobel quietly up to her room without being seen.

She wasn’t so lucky, and she wanted to scream when Willow popped out of the living room and looked Isobel over with a discerning eye. “Who’s this?” the redhead asked.

“She’s rude,” Isobel said, turning to Buffy, and Buffy bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing.

Willow blushed. “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” She paused and let out a deep breath. “I’m Willow.”

“Isobel,” the dark-haired Slayer replied, her expression nonplussed.

Suddenly, Dawn came bounding into the foyer. “Omigod, Isobel? Really?” Dawn said, running over to get a good look at her. “The Isobel that Buffy…”

“Has been working with at the Doublemeat Palace,” Buffy said quickly, cutting her sister off. “That Dawn and I were talking about earlier, because she’s now my new…work buddy.”

Dawn frowned and started to ask what the hell Buffy was talking about before she glanced at Willow and got the picture. “Right. Isobel from the Doublemeat Palace. It’s good to meet you, Isobel…from the Doublemeat Palace.”

Isobel couldn’t help her small chuckle. “And it’s nice to meet you, too, Dawn. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Dawn started to ask what she meant, since she doubted she would’ve had much of a chance to hear things from Buffy, but then remembered now wasn’t a good time. She couldn’t exactly say she blamed Buffy for not wanting to announce to Willow at the moment that they had a Medieval Slayer in their house, and she wasn’t about to blow her cover. As a matter of fact…

“You know, I actually came out here because I’m having the biggest milkshake craving. Willow, are you having one, too?”

“Huh?” Willow replied, looking confused. “Milkshakes?”

“Willow, would you mind taking her?” Buffy asked, deciding her sister deserved something nice when this was all over for being such a little genius. “I would, but I really have to talk to Isobel about the new grills we just got in. It’s important Doublemeat Palace safety stuff.”

“Um, okay, I guess,” Willow replied. “Just, uh, let me get my purse.”

“Thank you,” Buffy mouthed to her sister as Willow left to get her bag.

“You owe me a chat later,” Dawn whispered in response.

When Willow came back into the foyer, Dawn all but dragged her out of the house, and Buffy tried not to chuckle too loudly at her sister’s antics. However, as soon as the door shut, she sobered again, realizing now she’d have to have a serious talk with Isobel.

As much as Buffy did want answers to what was going on, she knew that once this conversation was over, things weren’t ever going to be the same for her again.

“The couch is in here,” she said lamely, pointing towards the living room. “Should I get drinks or something? Maybe sandwiches?”

“Buffy, unless Dawn and Willow are going to get milkshakes in Canada, we don’t have all night, so stalling isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

Isobel had a knowing smirk on her face, and Buffy started wondering just how good of a look she’d gotten at Buffy in her dreams. When she thought about how vivid and graphic the dreams she’d had about Isobel had been… Buffy blushed a deep red.

“Quick question, Isobel. In your dreams, did you see me, um…”

“Having wild and crazy sex with Spike?” Isobel replied with a teasing grin.

Buffy blushed darker. “Wow, those Powers sure are intrusive…”

“They can be,” Isobel said. “Come on, let’s sit. Discuss things.”

Buffy knew she couldn’t put this off. It was time for her to get her answers – whether she wanted them or not. She sat down on the couch, taking a deep breath and letting it out as Isobel joined her.

“Edmund resurrected me.”

The statement came so quickly, without any preamble, that Buffy wasn’t sure she’d heard it right. “Huh?”

“Edmund resurrected me,” Isobel repeated. “He sought out some demon in Africa after I died, one who was supposedly able to perform miracles to anyone who proved himself worthy. I’m still not sure exactly what Edmund had to endure in order to do that since he’s never been big on talking about it, but I know he did.” She paused and met Buffy in the eyes. “I was in Heaven. Like you were.”

Buffy gasped, her heart beating a bit faster at Isobel’s revelation. Was she truly not the only Slayer ever to be ripped from Heaven? And if she wasn’t, then what did that mean for her now? “Aren’t you angry at Edmund for that?” she asked softly.

“No,” Isobel answered simply, yet the word full of truth. “I never have been. I was in Heaven, that’s true, but how could anything truly be paradise without the person who makes me whole? I’d rather spend a day here on Earth in Edmund’s arms than an eternity in Heaven.”

“How can you really feel that way?” Buffy asked. “I mean, I know how much you love Edmund, and I get the whole romantic notion thing, but it was Heaven, Isobel. I remember what it was like.”

“Do you?” Isobel asked, her eyebrow raised.

“Well, yeah. It is nice. Peaceful. I felt…done.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Buffy frowned, not knowing why Isobel would argue this with her when she’d been there, too. “Yes, I did.”

“No, you didn’t. Buffy, if you’d truly been done, you wouldn’t be back here.” Isobel took a deep breath as she tried to decide how best to describe something she hadn’t really given much thought to in centuries – and to someone who could be as dense as Buffy chose to be at times. “When you travel through the planes, things can get jumbled, memories can get hazy. Sometimes things come back to you. Sometimes they don’t. And sometimes, well, you remember things the way you want to remember them.”

“What is that supposed to mean? Heaven’s really a suck-fest, and I’m just misremembering the whole paradise thing?”

Isobel chuckled. “No. Not at all. Heaven was lovely. And I know there’s a definite sense of loss when you leave, but… Well, it’s not the right place for everyone.”

Buffy looked down. “Because not everyone is good enough.”

“Wow. You really do have self-esteem issues, don’t you? We got into Heaven in the first place, Buffy – that alone says we’re ‘good enough.’ It’s not like you can slip past the Pearly Gates, then someone takes inventory and boots you out. Once you’re in, you’re in. But, well… God, how do I explain this to someone as hardheaded as you?”

“Hey!” Buffy exclaimed, looking up sharply.

Isobel held up her hands. “I call ‘em like I see ‘em.” She paused for a moment before folding her hands in her lap, her tone growing gentle again. “There are some people in this world who aren’t meant to be alone. There’s someone else out there that they’re simply meant to be with. And for those people, the passion, the love is so strong the Heavens themselves part for them.”

Isobel paused again and met Buffy firmly in the eyes, needing her to really listen for once. “For me, that other person is Edmund. For you, it’s Spike.”

“But Spike didn’t resurrect me. My friends did.”

Isobel fought the urge to scream. What exactly did it take to get through to this woman? A neon flashing sign? A five-act play?

“I know he didn’t, but he’s why the Powers allowed it to happen – or rather your love for him was.”

“But I don’t love Spike.”

“You can cut the bullshit with me, Buffy,” Isobel said sternly. “I’ve been inside that blonde head of yours, and I know exactly what you feel for Spike. You need to quit fighting it – and you need to stop fighting your memories from Heaven.”

“What memories from Heaven?”

“You really can’t remember, Buffy? You can’t remember how you used to watch him weep?”

“Watch him…”

Buffy’s words trailed off into a gasp as she opened her mind, let the memories come rushing back. She remembered now, remembered watching helplessly as Spike had sobbed over her broken, lifeless body.

Remembered watching him cry for her every night after that…

He had been broken and aching, and she’d yearned to hold him, to tell him it was all right, that he had never failed her.

From Heaven, she had wept with him…

Buffy now remembered the moment when she’d truly felt complete, whole.

Let me go back… Let me go back to him…

Without another word, Buffy jumped up from the couch and ran from the house.

A smile on her face, Isobel did nothing to stop her.

“God, do I ever know that look,” Spike said, rolling his eyes skywards. “Every time I see it, I brace myself for a bloody lecture.”

“After six and a half centuries, I’ve more or less got the lectures memorized,” Edmund replied. “I see her start to cross her arms over her chest, and I tune out.”

Spike shook his head and chuckled. “Not sure Buffy would let me get away with that one. Even if she does tend to get a bit redundant.”

“I find it’s a lot harder for Isobel to get angry with me when she’s upside down. It’s difficult to remember what pissed you off when you’re lightheaded.”

“Tried that. I usually get kicked in the face.”

“Slayers,” Edmund said sympathetically. “They definitely don’t make things easy on a man.” A beat of silence past before he added wistfully, “But damn, the sex…”

Spike’s eyes glazed over for a moment just thinking about that. “The heat…”

“Those muscles…”

“Completely worth getting punched in the nose.”

“Oh yeah. Actually, that part can be pretty hot, too…”

Spike smirked at that. “Drives me wild when Buffy’s angry. She gets all flushed, and her chest starts heaving. Most gorgeous thing in the whole fucking world.”

“Sometimes I rile Izzy up just so I can get angry sex.”

Spike chuckled. “Yeah, I do that with Buffy, too.” He sighed, sobering. “I only wish she wouldn’t stay angry after the sex. Does Isobel ever tell you you’re an evil, disgusting thing?”

“She has. More in the beginning, though,” Edmund replied. “When I first got a hold of her, she was a pious little Catholic girl who’d been fed a bunch of tripe by the Watchers’ Council. And we’ve had our rows, that’s for certain. Isobel loves me. She knows what I am, and she’s learned to accept that. But that doesn’t mean she’s going to let me get away with being nothing but a monster either. It’s been centuries since she was called, but Isobel’s still a Slayer. She’s always going to be a Slayer, no matter how many girls have come along since her. She’s got this unbreakable connection to the light, and in order to love her, I know I’ve got to understand and respect that. I may not have chosen who I fell in love with, but I chose to stay and accept the daily challenge to myself to be the best man I can be for her. No matter how tempting it may be sometimes, I can’t ever try to pull her down into the darkness with me. She’d never survive there – it’s not who she is. If I did that, if I smothered that part of her that makes her who she is, then I’d be killing everything I love about her.”

Edmund paused for a moment, giving his words some time to sink in before he started again. “So yeah, sometimes she says things that are hurtful. Sometimes they’re not called for, and sometimes they probably are. But she keeps me on my toes, too, always pushing me to strive for something better. Sometimes I can hate her for it, but I love her for it, too.”

“I try to be better for Buffy,” Spike said softly, looking down at the crypt floor. “I try to fight on her side, turn my back completely on mine, but it’s not enough for her.”

“You’ve got to stop thinking about it as your side versus hers. For any relationship to work, you have to see both of you together as a team, even if it doesn’t always feel that way or if sometimes the other person doesn’t want to let it be that way. Yeah, you’re a vampire and she’s a Slayer, and that’s always going to be an issue. But hey, if Man City fans and Man U fans can make a relationship work, then really, vampire and Slayer – not such a big deal.”

Spike chuckled softly. “You’ve got a point there.”

“The first time I saw Isobel, she was fighting. Wrestling with a demon three times her size and barely breaking a sweat. In my hundred and nineteen on the planet, I’d never seen something so beautiful,” Edmund said, a small smile tugging at his lips as he recalled the memory time had not managed to make any less vivid. “I was with my sister – my sire – and her three current male companions at the time, and they told me that was a Slayer and I needed to stay away. They told me she was the enemy, something I couldn’t touch. But I never let myself think that way. I didn’t care how things were supposed to be – I just cared about what I felt and what Isobel was to me.”

“Wish I’d thought that way from the start,” Spike said with a snort. “By the time I got to Buffy, I’d already killed two Slayers.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m pretty sure there’s not a vampire around who doesn’t know who you are, be they completely in awe or completely jealous.”

Spike arched an eyebrow. “Yeah? Which one are you then?”

Edmund shrugged. “Indifferent.” Then, he grinned. “You know, I didn’t exactly make the best first steps with Isobel either. I wanted to talk to her, but I was nervous. She seemed, well, completely out of my league. But I couldn’t get her out of my head, and I kept craving her attention, even if I couldn’t build up the nerve to actually let her see me.”

“Please tell me you did something royally idiotic so I won’t feel so bad,” Spike said. “You’ve managed to make things work out so well with Isobel that I just feel like a fuck up.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Edmund said. “And you’ve caught us on a good day. Trust me, we have our bad ones, too. But yeah, I did something pretty stupid. My brilliant plan to get her attention was to make my presence known in different villages, lure her there to see her, and then panic, run off, and start the whole process all over again.”

Spike arched his eyebrow. “Yeah, that is pretty stupid. And yet, she still seemed like she forgave you fairly easily.”

Edmund shrugged. “Isobel didn’t have any emotional baggage when I met her. Not as far as men were concerned anyway. She was a complete innocent, so I had an advantage. Sex was all new to her, so once I got the nerve to seduce her, it was relatively easy, and that kept her with me until…well, until other things strengthened the bond.” He gave Spike a teasing smirk. “Something tells me you didn’t have such an easy set up with Buffy.”

“God, not at all,” Spike said, running his hands through his hair. “Not only did I have to deal with human men doing a number on her before I got to her, my wanker of a soul-having grandsire did, too, making her completely convinced a vampire and a Slayer could never work just because she didn’t work with Angel.” Spike spat the name of the other vampire with disgust.

“Well, I hope getting a chance to talk to Izzy will help her with that,” Edmund said. “Let her see that this sort of relationship can work. Isobel’s been obsessed with that ever since she started dreaming about Buffy. Apparently she got a condensed version of your relationship courtesy of the Powers That Be and she was determined to come here and make Buffy see the light.”

“Good luck on that one,” Spike muttered. “You could attack Buffy with spotlights, and she’d still swear it was dark.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Edmund replied with a wry smile. “My Isobel’s a persuasive one.”

“And my Buffy’s a stubborn one.”

Before Edmund could respond, the door of the crypt burst open, an out-of-breath Slayer running inside. “Spike, we have to talk,” she said between pants. She winced. “No, I mean we do, but…” She stopped, took a deep breath and made herself calm down. “We have to talk, but not in the way that sounds, because it’s not a bad talk, or at least I don’t think it’s going to be a bad talk. I mean, I guess it could turn bad, but…”

Spike turned to Edmund. “Does Isobel ramble like this?”

“Oh yeah.” He grinned. “It’s adorable.”

“Isn’t it?” Spike replied. “Makes me want to pat her head.”

Buffy sighed exasperatedly and crossed her arms, and Edmund and Spike both started to laugh.

“Ugh, like one of you isn’t bad enough,” Buffy said with a pout.

“Aww. C’mere, pouty,” Spike said, reaching his hand out to Buffy. Much to his surprise, she actually went to him, letting him wrap his arm around her.

“I’ll take that as my cue to go find my Slayer, let you two have a chat.” He clapped Spike on the back and gave him a nod. Spike nodded back.

“Isobel was at my house when I left her,” Buffy said. “It’s…”

“I can find Isobel,” Edmund said, cutting off her unnecessary directions. “I could find her anywhere.”

With that, he gave a brief good-bye and slipped from the crypt.

Alone with Spike now, Buffy felt herself growing suddenly self-conscious. He had his arm around her, and all she wanted to do was relax in his embrace, but she knew there were things that needed to be said.

She just had no idea how to say them.

After several moments of uneasy silence, Spike was the first one to break it. “Did you have a good talk with Isobel?”

“Yeah, we… She said it’s okay for me to, you know, like you.”

Spike wasn’t sure if he found her response frustrating or endearing. “And do you like me?” he asked, hoping he could prompt her to give him more.

“Can we not talk?” Buffy asked. “I don’t like talking. Let’s just…pretend we talked and have sex instead.”

A part of Spike was very intrigued by that plan, though he decided now was probably a good time to think with the head that sat on his neck for once where Buffy was concerned.

“Are you sure?” Buffy asked with a seductive grin, her hands reaching for his jeans.

Spike called on more willpower than he knew he had and moved her hands away from him. She started to protest, but her words trailed off into a shout when he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Buffy asked, kicking.

Spike ducked his head away from her booted feet. “Sitting you down for a talk,” he replied as he put her down on a sarcophagus. She started to stand up immediately, but Spike pushed her down and wagged a finger at her. “Move, and I’ll have to break out the chains again.”

Buffy smirked, a tempting sparkle in her eye. “There could be chains.”

Spike refused to be swayed. He’d been down this road with Buffy enough times to know the ending by heart. It was time for something else. “Look, you little minx, I don’t care how much you pout and try to tempt me with bondage, you’re not getting into my pants until we’ve had a discussion.”

“Girl,” Buffy muttered, earning her a stern look from Spike, though she did stay put on the sarcophagus.

“Look, Buffy, I know you’d probably rather have all your teeth ripped out of your head than have a serious talk about our relationship, but I’ve got to know where we stand now. This thing with Isobel and Edmund – it changes things, yeah?”

Buffy looked down, but nodded. “Yes. It does.”

“You can’t hide behind your relationship with Angelus now,” Spike pointed out. “You can’t use that as some sort of proof that vampires and Slayers won’t work.”

“I know.” Buffy sighed. “I think I’ve just lost a lot of my excuses. I always thought that having feelings for you was morally wrong. Like if I cared about you, then maybe I really did belong in the dark, like you said. But if the Powers wanted me to meet Isobel and Edmund, to see how happy they are together, then I guess that means they’re okay with me being with you, too.”

“You don’t belong in the dark, Buffy,” Spike told her, thinking back to what Edmund had said and knowing the other vampire was right. “I shouldn’t have dragged you down like that.”

Buffy put her hand gently over his, and for the first time, Spike really believed they could get to a good place together. “You didn’t drag me down, Spike. I was already there, and it didn’t have to do with anything you did. I thought I’d been thrown out of Heaven. I felt like there had to be something wrong with me because of that, and then I was having all these feelings for you, and I don’t know… I’ve just been so mixed up since… Well, I was going to say since I came back, but it’s been longer than that. I think I’ve really been on this path since the moment I was Called, and I never did anything to really try to fight against all those dark feelings inside of me. I was too busy concentrating on what I had to do as a Slayer to spend any time at all on what I needed to do to stay a mentally healthy person, you know?”

“Yeah, sorta noticed that,” Spike replied, earning him a glare from Buffy.

“You aren’t supposed to be so quick to call me crazy,” Buffy chided. “At least pretend to give it some thought or something. Maybe a token protest?”

“Why?” Spike winked at her. “You know me – I’ve always gone for the crazy chicks.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and smacked him on the arm, but Spike could see a hint of a smile on her face, too. “Well, you know, they say like attracts like, so if you attract the crazies…”

Spike snorted. “I was completely sane before you women drove me around the sodding bend.”

“Yeah, somehow I seriously doubt that.”

Buffy’s demeanor changed suddenly, her eyes darting downwards as her face lost is playful expression, and Spike braced himself for the worst. As much as he wanted to believe that meeting Edmund and Isobel would be enough to make Buffy stop insisting what they had was wrong and would never work, he couldn’t help but fear that Buffy would continue on as she had and simply spin this some way to make it bad.

“Spike, there’s something I do need to tell you, and it’s kind of big, but I think you need to know.”

Spike would’ve sworn he could feel his heart breaking in his chest, and he clenched his fists, waiting for whatever was coming. She’s seemed like she wanted to be around him when she’d shown up, sure, and she had said it would be a “good” talk, but good for whom? Buffy always went from seeming like she might actually care about him to crushing his heart in a matter of seconds. Why should now be any different?

“I didn’t get tossed out of Heaven.”

Okay, so he hadn’t been expecting that. Whatever that actually meant… She hadn’t been tossed out of Heaven… What, did they politely ask her to leave?

Or, Spike wondered with a growing sense of dread, had she never been in Heaven at all?

“Isobel was in Heaven once, too,” Buffy said, her gaze firmly on the stone beneath her and off Spike, leaving her clueless to the play of emotions on his face. “She died about six months after she was Called, but Edmund had her resurrected. She said when you first come back, things are all hazy and jumbled, but she helped me remember what…” Buffy took a deep breath, her throat seeming to tighten as her desire to tell Spike the truth and her fear of what would happen when she did warred inside of her. “She helped me remember what I’d forgotten.”

Was she trying to torture him? Her evasive half-answers were about to make him scream, and he fought to keep hold of what little patience he’d been granted in his existence. “What had you forgotten Buffy?”

“Watching you,” she said softly, and Spike could tell she’d started crying.

“Watching me…? Buffy?”

She looked up sharply, wiping at the tears that ran down her face. “I could see you. You were so broken, Spike. You were hurting so much, trying to go on and take care of Dawn the way I asked you to, but you were just wasting away, and… I begged them. I begged them over and over again to let me go back to you. Everything was different there, so much clearer, and I knew where I was supposed to be. I knew where I belonged, and it wasn’t in Heaven.”

Her hand trembled as she reached across the sarcophagus and placed it over his. “I belong with you.”

Buffy’s revelation was a burst of light in his heart, and Spike watched her, his own love for her laid bare in his eyes as he finally allowed himself to hope.

He only prayed that she wouldn’t snatch it away from him with her next breath.

Spike was afraid to speak. If he called attention to what she’d said, would she take it back?

Leaving Heaven had been a choice – a choice she’d made for him. To be with him.

What was this going to mean for them now that she remembered? Did she regret it? Had he let her down by not giving her enough after she’d sacrificed Heaven for him? Was she…

He blinked, pulled out of his thoughts when she snapped her fingers in his face. “Hello? You in there, Spike? I just reveal this totally major thing and all you can do is stare at me and do that head tilt you’re always doing? You talk all the time. Now would be a good time to keep up with that.”

“I…” Spike took a deep breath and let it out. “I just have no bloody idea what to say.”

“You could say you love me and you’re glad I came back for you,” Buffy offered.

“I could say that and not get punched in the face?”

“Yes, you could…” Buffy ran her hand along his face instead, her touch gentle against his cool skin. However, Spike ducked away from her, and Buffy looked at him with hurt in her eyes. “Spike…?”

“Buffy, I do love you and I am glad you’re here with me, but… Fuck, you’ve been so bleedin’ miserable, Slayer. You said being back here is like being in Hell for you, and to know you came back because I couldn’t be strong enough to let you go on, I… I’m so sorry, Buffy. I didn’t mean to do that to you. If I’d known… God, if I’d known you were happy where you were, I…”

“I wasn’t happy, Spike,” Buffy interjected. “Didn’t you just hear me say I left because I wanted to?”

“Because of me,” Spike replied softly.

“Yeah, because of you. Because I wanted to be with you. Because I’d rather be with you than be in Heaven. Because I love you.”

“But, Buffy, you…” Spike stopped short as her words sunk in. “Wait…what did you just say?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “I said I love you, you big dope. And no, I don’t regret coming back. We’d both know I was lying if I said the transition wasn’t difficult, but I think it was worth it.”

“Yeah. Say that first part of that again?”

“You’re a dope?” Buffy teased.

“The other part,” Spike replied, grinning because he couldn’t not. Not after she’d said…

“I love you, Spike.”

He knew he’d never tire of hearing that. And if Edmund and Isobel’s presence over six centuries after they met was any indication, he was going to be hearing it for a long time.

“So just to make sure I’m getting all of this straight, you’re here now because you asked to come back from Heaven to be with me because you love me.”

“Yes. Do I need to make a sign? Maybe grab some pom-poms and do a cheer?”

“Don’t need the sign, though I may take a rain-check on the other one.”

“Gee, why doesn’t that surprise me?” Buffy bounced slightly on the sarcophagus. “Okay, now that we’ve talked, and I’ve said all this big, hard for me to say stuff, can we finally get around to the sex?”

“Damn, Slayer, you sure are randy today.”

Buffy ducked her head shyly. “I want to prove I can be good.”

“Um, I’m not sure where you’ve been these past few weeks, pet, but you’ve more than proved that. Repeatedly.”

“No, I mean…” Buffy sighed. “I want to prove that I can be something other than a selfish bitch. That I can take your desires into account, and that I can really let myself be there with you emotionally. And, you know, not kick you in the head and run away as soon as it’s over.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to prove any of that to me,” Spike told her as he tucked her hair that had fallen in front of her face back behind her ear. “It’s okay.”

“I know, but… I need to prove it to myself, Spike. I remember now how much you hurt after I jumped, and I need to know that I can make that better instead of worse.”

“Buffy, you don’t…”

She didn’t want to hear what he was going to say. It didn’t matter. Words didn’t matter now. She had to show him – show both of them – that things were going to be different now. She grabbed his face and silenced him with a kiss, pulling him hard against her mouth until he was responding with full force, his arms wrapping around her waist and bringing her even closer to him.

Spike stood up, one strong arm still around her waist as Buffy dangled at his side, her arms firm around his neck. He carried her like that into the lower level of the crypt, refusing to let go, even when they tumbled together onto the bed.

“I don’t want to rush things this time,” Buffy said as her back hit the mattress. “I don’t want it to just be about getting off.”

“I know, luv,” Spike replied with a soft kiss to her forehead. “Me either.”

Buffy ran her fingers along his bicep, shivering at the feel of cool skin taut over firm muscles. He was gorgeous, masculine perfection all wrapped up in black denim and leather, and Buffy was finally going to allow herself to savor it.

She was tired of denying herself a true taste of something even better than Heaven.

Spike brought his lips to hers and Buffy opened her mouth for him, letting him kiss her deeply. Neither of them tried to push things further, content for the time being with kisses and gentle touches. Spike curled one arm around her while his other hand came up to play with her hair, and Buffy brought her hands to his back, lightly caressing him through the fabric of his t-shirt.

This was nice… For once, she didn’t feel pressured to do anything but what she wanted. For once, it didn’t matter that she was the Slayer and he was a vampire. She loved this man and that was okay. Who they were outside of the bedroom had no bearing on her feelings, and finally, she was ready to accept that.

She would’ve done it a long time ago if she’d realized how liberating it truly was.

“Mmm…love you,” she murmured softly against his lips, smiling as she felt a tremble pass through Spike at her words.

“Love you, too,” he told her, his breath coming in cool pants. “Love you so much. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

“I know, baby. And you are making me happy. Very happy,” she assured him with a gentle nip to his bottom lip. “And it feels like I’m making you pretty happy, too.”

“Mmm…you are,” Spike said, pushing the bulge in his jeans against the junction of her thighs.

When Buffy thrust her own hips in response, Spike figured it was probably time to move things along a bit. As much as he loved kissing her, his body was pushing for more, needing to feel all of the delectable heat she had to offer. He trailed his hand beneath her shirt, pushing the cup of her bra out of the way to caress one of her breasts. Buffy hummed her approval before, arching her back to press her breast against his roughened palm.

Buffy never talked much during sex. Moaned, panted, and screamed, sure, but actual words were few and far between. And the ones she did say tended to be hot and nasty, spit out at the height of passion. She didn’t praise him, didn’t let him know how she felt beyond that she did in fact like it fast and hard.

She resolved to change that. She knew Spike well enough to know that words meant something to him. She knew the experience would be better for him if she vocalized to him how good he made her feel, gave him encouragement with something other than the movements of her body.

“I love your hands, Spike,” she told him, whimpering as his thumb began to circle the tip of her nipple. “So…so strong, and…oh god…cool… I get so hot for you and then…ooh…your touch feels so intense against my skin.”

“Buffy…” Spike moaned, his eyes sliding shut for a moment as he tugged at her sensitized nipple, making her pant. She could tell from his reaction that she was right about how he’d respond to her praise, and she decided to keep it up, let him know how good he made her feel.

“Yeah, just like that, Spike… Feels so amazing when you play with my tits. Sometimes I think I could come just from that…” He bucked against her, pinching her nipple, and Buffy smiled. She decided to change from her usual tactics in another way, too, and tell him what she wanted instead of just shoving whatever body part she wanted where she wanted it and expecting him to service her.

“Can you suck on them now, baby?” she asked, the husky, aroused sound of her voice making Spike shake again. “You’ve got such an amazing mouth…”

She quite clearly didn’t have to ask him twice. Spike’s eyes were dark with lust as he pulled her shirt over her head and deftly unhooked her bra, leaving her chest bare. He continued to caress one of her breasts, while his mouth went to the other, licking and sucking the firm mound with Buffy’s fingers tangled in his soft, pale hair, holding him where she needed him.

Spike clamped around her nipple with blunt teeth, and Buffy let out a short, loud yell. Spike glanced up at her, his eyes asking if she liked that, and she nodded, pushing his head back down. He alternated between licks and bites to both the nipple and the mound, driving Buffy out of her mind.

An image popped into her head, and Buffy couldn’t seem to get rid of it. She’d always secretly longed for Spike to bite her, but fear and self-loathing had kept her from asking for it, while worries over losing her had kept Spike silent on the matter as well. But she remembered how careful Edmund had been with Isobel, and she had no doubt that Spike would show her the same consideration.

She also knew how good it could feel…

“Bite me there, Spike,” she begged him, her words a heated whisper. “Please. I want it. I want it…”

Spike gazed up at her in confusion. He was biting her. What did she…

Oh.

His eyes widened as realization hit, and as much as his cock leapt up at the prospect of what she was asking for, he was terrified to give in. They were doing so well. What if he bit her and it freaked her out and then she changed her mind and ran away again?

Spike pressed a soft kiss to her breast and shook his head. “No.”

No? Buffy stared down at him in disbelief. She was offering him Slayer blood – in a very erotic way, no less – and he was turning it down? She knew there was no way he could be saying no because he didn’t actually want to do it. That just defied all logic and the rules governing what constituted reality. Which could only mean he was reluctant because he was afraid she’d freak out on him again.

“Spike, I’m not gonna be mad. Please… I really want it.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “No.”

“But I want your fangs.”

Spike could hear the pout in her voice and knew he shouldn’t open his eyes and look. That pout of hers…it was his bloody Kryptonite, and apparently, she knew it as well as he did. Still, he opened his eyes, looked at her pitiful, pleading expression, and was completely at her mercy.

“Please, baby?” she asked softly. “I’m so hot…so wet… I need your fangs inside me.”

When she put it that way, how could he possibly turn her down? Sure, she could go insane again and stake him for daring to bite her even if she had asked for it, but at least he’d dust happy.

Spike raised up just long enough to take off his own shirt before he was at her breasts again. Her nipples were tight from the cool air and her arousal, and the sight of them made his mouth water. He could hardly believe he was actually going to get a chance to taste her blood after spending so many years craving it. He’d never wanted to drink from someone as badly as he wanted to from her.

Now if he could just do it without coming in his pants and embarrassing the hell out of himself…

He opened the fly of her jeans as he continued to lick her breast, making her pant and squirm again. He slid his hand past her panties, finding her bare pussy and smirking to himself when he immediately could tell just how wet she was. There was no doubt in his mind that he could get her off with a mind-blowing orgasm when he bit her, and he was going to get a kick out of showing her exactly what she’d been missing in the times they’d been together before.

Spike gave her no warning as his fangs descended, sliding into the hot mound of her flesh. At the same moment, he found her clit, giving it a rough twist that bordered on pain, and just as he’d known she would, Buffy immediately burst into orgasm, her scream bouncing off the walls as she grabbed the back of his head so hard he knew she’d be bringing strands of bleached hair away with her.

But fuck, he’d let her pull every bit of his hair out for even a sip of the blood flowing on his tongue now. It seemed to be made even richer by her orgasm, and Spike’s eyes rolled back in his head as he suckled the wound he’d made. He stroked her clit in time with the pulls from his mouth, bringing her off a second time until Buffy was beyond the point of screaming, her body twitching helplessly as she experienced the most intense pleasure she’d ever known.

Reluctantly, Spike stopped drinking, licking the small wound on her breast closed before giving it a reverent kiss. As much as he wanted to keep drinking, he knew much more, and he’d hurt her – and nothing was worth risking Buffy’s life.

He rolled over beside her, smirking at the dazed, glassy look in her eyes. “Best orgasm of your life?” he asked, knowing the answer and not being able to keep a hint of smugness out of his voice.

“Uh huh,” Buffy asked, her tongue running over her dry lips. “Holy shit. A girl could get addicted to that.”

“And I’d be more than happy to enable that addiction,” Spike replied with a chuckle. His seriously-hard cock was still confined in his pants and he knew his balls were probably moving towards blue, but he felt too damn good to care he hadn’t gotten off yet. Buffy was in his bed, coming down from the incredible orgasm she’d had when he’d bitten her, and she loved him.

It was enough to make him wonder if maybe he’d actually gotten staked sometime in the last day and had accidentally wound up in Heaven himself…

Buffy rolled over on her side to face him, her fingers still shaking from her orgasm even as she traced the lines of his abdomen. She trailed them down to the patch of hair peeking out from the top of his jeans and smiled at the low rumbling sound that vibrated through his chest. “Betcha want your cock outta there, dontcha, baby?” she teased, her smile kittenish.

“More than anything,” Spike answered honestly, pushing his hips towards her.

Buffy rolled him over on his back and straddled his hips, giving him another deep, wet kiss before she trailed down his chest, leaving red bite marks on his alabaster flesh to mark where she’d been. Spike’s hands were fisted tightly around the sheets, his jaw tight, muscles twitching. She stopped at his crotch, massaging his erection through the rough denim before moving away, making Spike whimper.

“Don’t worry, baby,” she assured him as she continued to slide down his body. “I want that, too. I’m wet, dripping, desperate for your cock.”

“Buffy…” Spike groaned, his body tensing further. She peeked up at him, in awe of how restrained he was being. His muscles were tight, his chest moving with the breaths he took to keep himself as calm as possible, and she knew she couldn’t tease much longer.

Even with the amazing orgasms she’d had from his fangs and fingers, she was going just as crazy as he was with the need for something more.

She cursed under her breath as she pulled at the laces of his boots, for once wishing her boyfriend would decide to wear sandals or something equally easy-to-remove. As sexy as she secretly found his choice of ass-kicking footwear, the Docs were seriously getting in her way at the moment.

Buffy let out a triumphant cry as she finally pulled the boot off his foot and tossed it over her shoulder to the floor before jumping on the next one. As soon as she had both of his feet bare, she was back at the fly of his jeans, popping each button quickly and releasing his cock to the cool air of the crypt.

“Fuck, that feels so much better,” Spike said with a moan of relief. “Sometimes I really think I should give up the tight jeans around you.”

“Oh hell no,” Buffy replied. “Your ass is way too drool worthy for you to do that. God, I could stare at that for hours.”

Spike smirked at her, though she could see him preening under the compliment, too. “Well, then, I guess I’ll just have to suffer for your enjoyment then.”

“Damn right you will,” Buffy teased before she sat on the edge of the bed, unzipping her own boots and throwing them off the bed before she stood up and slid out of her jeans and drenched panties.

As soon as she was naked, Spike grabbed her with a growl, and Buffy squealed as he pulled her back down to the bed and pounced on top of her. She wrapped her arms around him and he kissed her, pulling her body as close to his as he could without entering her.

“Need you,” Buffy breathed against his mouth. “Need you inside.”

“Tell me first,” Spike implored her, looking down at her with dark eyes. “Tell me again now. I need to hear it…”

His request made Buffy’s heart swell in her chest, and she hated she’d denied him those words for so long. He’d been so broken, so empty when she fell, and then she’d come back only to cut him even deeper.

Never again, she swore, and knew she’d have no problems keeping that promise.

She placed her hand against his cheek, her soft, caring touch reinforcing the words as she spoke them. “I love you, Spike. You’re my Heaven.”

“Buffy… Oh god, pet, I love you so much. I’ll always love you. I never want to make you regret coming back to me.”

“I won’t,” Buffy assured him. “I couldn’t. I love you.”

Spike couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He lined himself up with her entrance and rammed his cock upwards, filling her in a hard stroke that left her breathless.

Buffy clung to him, cried out in ecstasy as she met his hips with each stroke, and knew she’d rediscovered Heaven.

*** *** ***

Buffy knew she was dreaming again, though this time, her surroundings were decidedly modern. She was in what appeared to be a living room, though she didn’t think she’d ever been in it before.

“I have no idea where we are either. I’m assuming it’s just what the PTB thought would classify as ‘homey.’”

Buffy turned around quickly, then smiled when she saw Isobel behind her. “So we’re sharing the same dream now, huh?”

“Looks like. So…how’d things go with Spike?”

Buffy grinned, the twinkle in her eyes enough to convey exactly how well things had gone with Spike. “Good. We…discussed some things.”

“Discussed some things? Is that what you kids are calling it these days?”

“Among other things,” Buffy replied with a chuckle. Then, her expression softened, and she couldn’t help from embracing the other Slayer. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“I’m just glad I could help you,” Isobel replied, hugging Buffy back. “There’s too much loneliness in a Slayer’s life, and I’m happy to know you won’t have to be alone anymore.”

Buffy was smiling again as she pulled away from Isobel. It was comforting, knowing there was someone else out there who would so completely understand why she needed Spike.

Or at least there had been… What would Isobel and Edmund do now? Would they turn around and go right back to wherever it was they’d come from?

“What are you going to do now?” Buffy asked her.

Isobel shrugged. “We could stick around for a bit if you wanted. It’s been a while since I’ve seen an active Hellmouth. Besides, it might be good to have us around if those friends of yours give you a hard time about Spike. I certainly wouldn’t have any trouble getting medieval on their asses.” She held out her hands. “And I know, I know. Before you even have to say it – bad, bad pun.”

Buffy smirked. “Little bit, yeah. I’d like that, though. The you sticking around for a while bit. It’ll be nice, having another Slayer around who doesn’t want to kill me.” Isobel arched her eyebrow in question and Buffy let out a deep breath. “Long story.”

“I bet. But yeah, we’ll stay here for a while.” Isobel winked. “Maybe we could do a double date.”

Buffy laughed. “They’d complain, you know.”

“All part of the fun,” Isobel countered, and then the two Slayers were giggling together.

A smile on her face as she slept, Buffy Summers turned in the arms of her lover…