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Patrol was a major suckfest. The ultimate suckage. Buffy giggled at her unintentional pun and sank back into her pillows, her arms curled up behind her head. It wasn’t strictly correct, though. Every graveyard she’d punned and spun her stake playfully through had been way too much of the quiet tonight. No sign of Spike; no sign of Spike’s minions. Her night was ending on the wrong side of dull and it forced a pout to Buffy’s plush lips.

Allowing the darkness to lull her into the steady habit of sleep, she let her mind touch again on the multitude of events that had been revealed to her in her epic sleep. Everything clanged with the ring of truth, but it was so much what she didn’t want for her life that she was quick to discard it as a spell, designed for some really odd reason that she just wasn’t grasping. Was it Spike? Making her think of his body in ways that would make her blood pressure shoot right into orbit and leave her too consumed by lust to think straight when fighting him?

That thought made Buffy smile lustfully. ‘Cause yummm, if those visions weren’t real, she wanted a refund. Or at the very least a replay before she had her memory wiped. Oh well, at least she would know one way or the other pretty soon. If she suddenly found herself fighting Spike in the sun, then she’d have to reassess the whole dream/reality thing. Right as she reassessed the goodness of Spike and his very salty looking abs. His very happy-making appendages.

Proof would bring a new set of problems. It would bring a multitude of events that she would need to take some kind of direction on. One of those dilemmas would be a major decision about her lovelife. From what she could see, in her future years she had the possibility of two men. And whoa, what a decision if those visions were really of the real. That TA she’d already so far not much noticed except for nearly causing him a concussion with a pile of books falling on his head—or Spike. Spike of the evil, soulless, drool worthy sexiness.

If she had proof, then what was the point of fighting the inevitability of events? Let me look at this objectively, she thought, flashing moments slowing through her brain until she made out specific ones that made her flush hotly. Except for the black depression that hung over her as she remembered and allowed her body to give in to the sensations. Spike making love to her, kissing her into oblivion as she lost herself in what he gave to her, and her fixation on being lost to Heaven. Being lost to that while she wallowed with evil. Except that wasn’t quite right. With her youthful distance, Buffy saw something. Saw it clearly though her obviously older self covered it with lies, abuse and apathy. And fear. Her future was filled with actions based on fear and distrust in herself.

It made her wriggle in shame. And frown at her friends. And shake her head at herself for her ignorance. What on earth did they think they were doing, bringing her back from somewhere they didn’t even investigate? What did she think she was doing taking advantage of someone/something that loved her to the point of his own abuse?

When she realised what she was doing, Buffy jerked to full consciousness and began to laugh. Laugh hysterically, because here she was getting all twisted up about things her friends had never done, her own actions towards an evil vampire that would rather see her dead on the ground than screw her senseless.

It was too recent since she’d last fought him and the possibility of her death was precarious. She’d spent enough time wishing him to dust. If what she had seen was true, he had a motive for returning to Sunnydale so often that wasn’t so on the evil side. Buffy grinned again. Now she knew his secret; she just had to work out what to do with it.

Closing her eyes once again and willing on sleep, Buffy relaxed and surrendered to immensely satisfying images.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

In a matter of hours, Buffy’s whole outlook had changed. When she walked across campus and saw Parker, she squashed down that small part of her that was humiliated for being used—and naïve for allowing it to happen—and took the time to do a quick scan for Spike. Her dreams had predicted his appearance during this fiasco, had shown her the words he had heard and later twisted to make her mad. This time as Buffy made her way over to the co-ed she had a bounce in her step, feeling kind of elated that she was going through a situation almost with the ‘do not do, do not say’ guidebook. She had a confidence in herself she hadn’t possessed since Angel, and it felt soooo good.

“Hey, whatcha doing?” she asked Parker as she barged into his barrage of pick-up lines. The girl he was with looked annoyed, if not a little suspicious as Buffy plastered her very shiny glossed lips into a smile at the target.

“Er, Buffy. Good to see you,” he told her, his bravado bolstered with misplaced confidence.

“Oh, that’s so nice. Look, I just wanted to tell you, that phone call? I’d really rather you didn’t call. The other night was really nice and all, but I’ve met this new guy, and whoa…he just knocks me off my feet. You know what I mean? He’s just like…wow—“ she faded out dreamily, licking her lips before suddenly coming back to it. “But he’s kinda jealous so I really don’t need you calling and mucking this up for me, ‘kay? I’m really sorry if it ruins your plans, although it looks like you’ve got another girl right here to take over from me. So, thanks.” She beamed a grateful smile and took a step away. Before her foot could take full weight on the ground she had spun back to the girl.

“If he asks you to do the thing between his…erm, you know, don’t do it. Kinda sweaty and not so of the nice.” Buffy screwed up her nose delicately and imparted a little shudder before turning and walking over to wait for signs of Spike, a sense of achievement adding to her springy step.

She saw him before she could even settle on the seat, his head tilted assessingly as he watched her. She could tell that he’d heard and the small frown on his lips was more than intriguing. Made his lips pout and that was dead sexy.

Buffy giggled. This was just…awesome. Completely fricken awesome and she so couldn’t wait to tell Willow. She jumped to her feet and rushed in excited steps to stand less than a step away from him. Rushed like she was going to launch herself into the arms of her boyfriend.

“Birds singing, squirrels making lots of rotten little squirrels. Sun beaming down in a nice, non-fatal way. It's very exciting, I can't wait to see if YOU freckle.”

Spike’s eyes bugged as he took the time to comprehend what she just said, eyes sweeping from her lips to her toes to her lips again. The godawful robot-like smile was making his head hurt and he clenched his jaw hard.

“How the bloody hell did you know the EXACT thing I had been thinking the past half-hour to say when I met you in the sun?”

“That’s how seriously predictable you are, Spike.”

Still with the loony grinning and it was putting him right the hell off. Even if her lips were all pink and juicy-looking.

Instead of wasting more time trying to figure out how this meeting was going wrong, he slugged her hard on the chin.

“Ow,” she said, her hand raising to rub the spot even as the smile slipped and hurt flooded her shining green eyes.

And what? He was noticing the colour of the Slayer’s eyes now?

“Ow? All you’ve got to bloody say is ow? Where’s the old one two? The attempted kick in the balls? The punch in the guts?” He was shaking his head completely wrong-footed, not knowing where to go with this odd little confrontation.

“We could go have a talk. Ooh, I know,” Buffy enthused, doing the bouncy thing on her feet again and making Spike dizzy with his compounding confusion. “Let’s go get some coffee. We could sit in the park and see if you do tan or if the gem prevents your skin from getting the real rays. Oh hey! Maybe it’ll not let you get sunburn at all. That would be so neat!”

“Are you completely off your bird?” he erupted.

“Come on, Spikey. Take me up on the offer. Otherwise, this is what is going to happen. We’ll fight, I stake you only to find out you heal right up, then you insult me, get me mad, I take the ring off your finger and you have to run so you don’t go all crispy. Let’s forget all of that and actually go have some fun with this thing. I’ll bet you’re loving the feel of the warmth on your skin right now.”

He noticed as her eyes gave him a quick, appreciative scan, looking in vain for small areas of skin.

“Might have to take off your coat.”

Almost like he was under a spell, he felt the duster shrug from his shoulders. Buffy caught it before it hit the grass, and embraced the leather in her arms.

“Perfect,” she beamed. “So, coffee and park or do you have somewhere else in mind?”

He just shook his head, his head too bewildered by the crazy girl who had taken over the Slayer since he’d last seen her. Maybe that Parker pillock had shot her full of some happy grass or something. A quick sniff didn’t uncover any familiar scents but one, and it was one that made his eyes cross. That scent he’d smelled on the Slayer the previous times they’d fought; the one that told him for sure she got a real kick out of fighting him. There was no adrenalin pumping the fight into her now, though. Nothing but the sun and the birds and a now impervious to harm vampire.

Nah, there was only one answer for it. The chit was cracked. Gone barmy in the head or had amnesia and didn’t know who the hell she was dealing with. Still, he didn’t fight her off when she took his hand in her free one and tugged him by way of downtown, and the ever-popular Espresso Pump.





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