Disclaimer: Buffy doesn't belong to me, and Spike isn't mine, but my birthday's coming up . . . (hint, hint)

AN: Please review!! I would love any comments you have, be they good or bad.

Timeline: Set in season 2, two weeks after 'School Hard.'

Nightmares

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His heavy boot hit the ground. And before he took another step, before the sound came again, her heart beat 20 times.

"Slaaaaaaayer, here kitty, kitty.

His foot, in those black boots, found its way to the floor with what seemed to be an agonizing slowness.

'Can't he walk any faster?' Buffy thought irritably, crouched in a ceiling vent above the vampire, trying her hardest not to make a sound. He didn't have a heartbeat like she did-nothing that could race ahead without his control. He just walked, slowly, calmly, step by step.

"I find one of your friends first, I'm gonna suck 'em dry. And use their bones to bash your head in."

She hated him. Now if only she could get past him, get out of these vents, and kill the bastard.

She inched forward, just the slightest bit, and then froze. The walking stopped. Her heart went even faster, and Buffy wondered if he would be disappointed to do all this work only to find that the slayer had died because her heart had jumped out of her chest, before he even got close to killing her.

But then the walking started again, and she let out a sigh of relief, crawling cautiously through the vent and moving slowly towards the exit.

***

Spike grinned. "Someone's in the ceeeeiling!" he whispered merrily to the vampire beside him. The vampire-realizing he wasn't the one about to die- grinned back, only to find Spike already heading down the hallway.

***

The way out was right around here somewhere; she was almost there. Time to slay a vamp.

Something made a noise behind her, and Buffy spun around, met only by darkness. But she knew she had heard something, and the back of neck was tingling, it's own way of screaming, 'VAMPIRE!' Buffy peered into the darkness, just waiting for him to come out of the shadows.

And then she heard a much louder noise behind her. Spike, in one fluid motion, had pushed the panel of the ceiling and pulled his way through, knocking Buffy over in the process.

She was only startled for a second before she slipped into slayer mode and fought him back. But she couldn't reach her stake, which she had slipped in her sock so she could crawl, and Spike already had the advantage.

And so Buffy found herself flat on her back, Spike straddling her waist as he used his arms to pin her shoulders to the floor.

'I'm going to die like this.' She thought. 'I'm going to die in the ceiling.' It was actually very funny.

She wasn't laughing.

His gold eyes stared at her through the darkness as he brought his mouth down to her neck. He didn't bite her, just dragged his tongue slowly up her neck.

"You know you are right now, slayer?" He asked. She didn't respond, and he nibbled lightly on her ear.

"Vulnerable."

Buffy's heartbeat was breaking every record. But it wasn't only fear she was feeling-there was something else, something she couldn't, wouldn't define.

"Right now, I could do anythin' to you." The vampire continued, as his face lost its ridges and his eyes became blue again.

She was more aware than she had ever been. Even in the darkness, she felt as if she could have counted the bleached hairs on his head. She watched, with newfound clarity, as his pale skin glowed, as he unconsciously ran his tongue over his sharp white teeth while his razor-sharp cheekbones looked like they could cut her apart.

"I could kill you." He softly nibbled on her neck.

"Or I could just play for a bit."

Buffy was breathing heavily, the way he was touching her, the way he was holding her: it sent her mind reeling and her body screaming for more-she didn't want to play.

"Or," he brought his face above hers, looking directly into her eyes.

"Or, I could-" He was cut off as she captured his lips with her own.

It was no distraction technique, no master plan: in that moment the only think she wanted was Spike, and if there was a small part of her mind protesting, it was easily drowned out by the cries of her body.

As he pulled out of the kiss, she ran one hand softly down his cheeks, smiling with child-like wonderment as they didn't cut her fingers.

He kissed her back, tongue playing with hers and exploring her mouth. As his hands moved to her hips, and up her stomach, she didn't protest. As his skilled fingers undid the clasp of her bra, Buffy pulled the stake out of her stock, using to rip Spike's shirt open.

She found what she wanted, and let the stake clatter down the vents as her hands wandered across his stomach and chest.

Anyone listening would have thought there was a brutal fight going on in the ceiling, as they crashed into the narrow vents sides, floor and ceiling.

Buffy didn't have time to think as she unbuttoned his black jeans, didn't bother to think as her skirt came off, didn't want to think as-

Buffy woke up with a start, sweating and panting. She looked around her room, which now seemed almost fake-the dream had been so real, so vivid . . .

No, not a dream. She told herself, burying her head in the pillows. A nightmare.

It was natural to have nightmares about Spike-only two weeks ago, she had really thought she was going to die, of course she would have horrible dreams about him. That's why she was sweating. That's why she felt so hot. It was fear, all fear.

A nightmare.

But definitely the best nightmare she'd ever had.

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The End

AN: Review!