A WEIRD DREAM

By Vixen

This what what I dreamed last night. It disturbed me enough to write it down :)

Disclaimer: Joss owns what he does… la la la…


Buffy was sitting with her friend Willow at a round table. They were discussing recent events and doing their homework like good little college students. Buffy told her friend that lately things were getting out of her control and continued to eat her lunch. Willow smiled, and said that things would be all right, it would soon be over.

The next morning, Buffy woke up and was running late so she hurried and kissed her mother, and then ran out the door. She was going back to college, and her motorcycle was waiting in the driveway to be ridden.

Willow was waiting for her at her door, holding her books.

"Do you think my breasts are too big?" Buffy asked, examining her body self-consciously. She gently poked one of them. Her friend shook her head, Buffy was perfect, nothing more to say.

Suddenly Spike arrived, toying with the slayer but actually voicing his own feeling he said, "They're utterly perfect."

"Spike! What are you doing here?" Buffy looked at him pissed off.

Suddenly Buffy felt a chill run all through her body. She could feel the planets aligning, everything on Earth was undoing itself and redoing itself in unison. The bolts on the bridge were unscrewing themselves, and rescrewing themselves in unison. It was as if a weird force was acting on everything. She suddenly thought of her mother, alone, sick and frightened.

Buffy lay down on the ground, "God, what's happening, what's happening to me." Spike knelt beside her. A knife filled with blood suddenly appeared in her hand. It flashed and then was gone.

In Buffy's mind she could see the streets of Sunnydale, sirens could be heard, as well as a the sound of an a 911 phone call made by her best friend.

"I--I don't know what happened," Willow said, clearly upset, "No, I--I just, no a friend, a friend named Angel told me what happened."

The camera in Buffy's mind stopped short at her house, the sirens were coming from there. The logo from Angel Investigations shone like the bat-signal on her house.

She could see herself, standing over Spike, holding the knife in the pulsing light of the sirens. He was dead, and she was holding the knife. The sirens flashed and behind her, she watched some mirage of when he was alive, he was sitting on her roof, watching her, talking to some policemen.

Suddenly the dead figure of Spike by her feet rose, he was wearing a white tuxedo jacket, which was ripped up and splattered with blood, she had done this, how could she have done this. A rose dripping with blood was in his pocket, he took it out and examined it.

Spike chuckled, he was none worse for the wear, and delighted in what Buffy had done. She had shone her dark side, "You're done slayer, now come to me."