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.