Chapter Three
Buffy’s Point of View


First thing this morning I got a call from Giles. He asked if there were any new developments in my situation. I told him that he was in my dream. That elicited an interested “hmm”, out of him. That was all that was said. I still haven’t figured out what is going on for myself. Why did I let him touch me? Why did he want to? Is he like Angel, with a soul? I was also afraid that if I told him about my stalker sneaking in my room he’d insist that I uninvite him. I don’t know if I can do that just yet. By some odd twist of fate my mother invited him into our home. This morning she told me that she had an emergency at the gallery where she works and said she would be gone for a while. I didn’t have time to question her about who she let in. She did have time to question me about the painful hickey left on my neck. I told her a demon hit me with a blunt object and it left a nasty bruise. I think she bought it. When in doubt, blame something evil.

I spent a good part of my day trying to make up for lost sleep, but then I realized that I just couldn’t. Slayers should be nocturnal, it would make the job so much easier. Unfortunately, that is not the case. I absolutely cannot sleep knowing that the sun is up and that my friends are out having fun. I went with Xander and Willow to the mall, didn’t buy anything but we had fun anyway. Xander paid for a several games of air hockey but after winning four in a row I was disqualified due to an unfair advantage. So, ski ball it was. They didn’t mind having a sort of super human friend while I was raking in all the tickets.

As the sun was setting I found myself getting antsy, I wanted to go home. I actually feel kind of weird without having my stalker around. I feel like I’m missing something, and kind of lonely too. As soon as I could I made up some lame excuse to skip out on my friends and headed for home. I made a quick stop off at Angel’s but he either wasn’t home or wasn’t answering his door. I found my answer when I arrived home to find Angel sitting on my doorstep.

“Where have you been?” He asks.

“Where have I been? What about you? You were a no show last night. A girl could take offense to that.”

“I was trying to figure out where I knew that symbol from. I know it, but I still cannot figure out from where. Willy knows something but he isn’t telling. He knows I won’t kill him over something so small, especially when I don’t find it to be that much of a threat.” That’s it? No “sorry”? No apology? I bite my lip and glare at him.

“I can go get it out of Willy in the morning. I’m bitchy and I’d like a bit of meaningful violence.”

We walk inside and up to my room. Without saying a word he turns to go look out the window as I change into comfortable pajamas. I chuck my clothes into the corner of my room and look back over at Angel. He has a pensive look on his face as he studies my window ledge.

“Have you invited anyone in today?” He frowns. I tell him “no”. Which isn’t a lie. I haven’t invited anyone in. Does he know? “Has anything out of the ordinary been going on?”

“You can’t seriously be asking me that, Angel. One we’re on a hell mouth, two I’m a slayer. But no, nothing more out of the ordinary.” I emphasize the “more” in my sentence. “Why? Are you picking up on something?” It really does freak me out that my boyfriend has uber senses. I do too in a way, just not smell.

“Well, kind of. You could have just picked it up while you were out though.” He still looks at me funny. I go to sit next to him on my bed but my phone rings. I pick up the hand set and answer.

“Hello?” I ask.

“Oh good, Buffy. You’re home.”

“Yes, Mom. I’m glad you called.”

Angel walks out of my room while I talk to my Mom. It’s pointless because of his supernatural hearing. “Is everything okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, about that guy yesterday, did he have a name?” There’s a long pause.

“You know? Come to think of it he never said his name, handsome man though. Peculiar. Anyway, Buffy, the reason I called is because I won’t be home for a while. I need to get the gallery ready for tomorrow night and there has been a series of setbacks. If you go into the jewelry box on my dresser there should be some money. Order some pizza or something and I will see you tomorrow morning.”

“All right. Love you, Mom.”

She says a quick good-bye and hangs up. I wanted to ask her if maybe she could describe him a bit more fully but nothing can ever be as easy as asking a few questions.

Angel makes his way back into my room and leans next to my window. “I don’t think you should be alone tonight.”

“Mom will be home later tonight. I’m a big girl, Angel.” He walks over and wraps his arms around me.

“I know. I think you should cancel any invites you have into this house. Including me, I think it would be the safest thing for you to do.” I know that he’s making sense, but apparently I’m not in the sensible mood. His hands come up to cup my face. “Promise me.” I mumble a pathetic promise to do it as soon as I can, and he smiles. His hands slide down over my neck as he places a small kiss on my mouth. I try to deepen the kiss but he pulls back. I let out an inaudible sigh, then I realize his hand is resting on my hickey from last night’s adventures. I notice two things in this moment. One, my boyfriend really does not pay all that attention to me. Two, I‘m stupid. I pull back and yawn.


Spike’s Point of View


“How is the torturing coming along?” Dru asks off-handedly as she straddles some teenage boy as she prepares to do a spot of torturing of her own.

“She’s getting worn out. Not too much longer.” She drags a finger down the boys chest and he screams. Slowly, blood begins to well in the cut caused by her nail. She leans down to lick the blood and he closes his eyes like if he doesn’t see it, it’s not there. Bully for him, Drusilla like to make her presence known. She tells him that she will make him see her and reaches for another sharp instrument laying in the dirt.

I make my way out of the room and into the hall just as he lets out another scream. That’s my girl.

I search through the pile of clothes next to my bed trying to find the car keys. I move one of Drusilla’s dresses and a piece of paper falls out. It’s a list of ingredients. I have no clue what it is or what it’s for. The paragraph under it is in some language that I don’t know. Next to my feet I see the keys, I grab them and stuff them in my pocket along with the paper. I need to find out what my dark goddess has been up to.


Buffy’s Point of View


Angel finally left at about eight thirty. The entire time he was here I accumulated one kiss on the lips and two on the forehead. Oh yeah, he wants me real bad. There are days when I wish for a normal horny teenage boyfriend. I convince myself that I’m really too tired to stay up and eat dinner so I head off to bed. My stalker is late tonight. I pull my hair up in a ponytail and look in the mirror. The mark on my neck is almost gone, it’s left with that faint yellow tinge. As my hand reaches up to touch it, I remember all of the feelings that were swirling around in my dream. I become almost giddy just thinking about tonight. I take one quick look out the window and find nothing. With my light turned off I make my way into bed, enjoying the breeze that flows in through my window.

In my dream I am walking around my room, getting ready for school. Just a normal day. Where is he? I have no control over my movements but once again I am cognitive about being asleep. It feels like hours later that the familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach returns. By no coincidence, I’m sure, the light outside my bedroom window vanishes into the dark, moon-lit sky. My body goes straight to the bed as I feel him come closer. This is it.


Spike’s Point of View


The scared ponce that worked at the magic shop was none too helpful with what the spell read. I’m going to have to find another way to figure it out. The entire time I was out, something in my body tugged me towards this street, this house, this bedroom. The slayer must be crazy, maybe she deserves to die. She left her bedroom window open and never even bothered to uninvite me. It just screams death wish.

I want to march right on in there and tear open her throat. With that as my sole intention, I climb through the window. Once I touch her, it vanishes. The feeling of needing to kill her, transforms. The moment I lay my hand on her neck I’m drawn in. For the second night now I have been thrown into the slayer’s dream. Her dream where she is immobile and spread out on her bed. Another girl would have called her a hussy. Men would just think pleasantly wanton. Desire rolls of her body and her eyes are beckoning me closer. I lean over her and view her neck. There is a tinge to her skin from last night, I slowly let my tongue trace around the edges and she lets out an audible moan.

I don’t know how this is possible, nor do I know why this could happen. It would have been so easy to kill her, had I not gotten sucked into her dream. Looking up into her face, her eyes close. At the same time her clothes disappear, it was almost as if she willed it. I feel like a damned puppet. I see her, I want to kill her, yet my body just rubs up against hers. My hand travels down her throat to cup a breast and against my will I moan against her skin.

Like last night, she gains control of her arms and pulls me closer. I wonder if it is really her, or if she’s like me and is being controlled. I try to keep my body from reacting to her touch, to her body. Although, just because I’m evil doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy bodily pleasures with my arch nemesis. Even if it does, I was never one to abide by the rules.

The slayer’s hands run across my back and down over my arms. They linger on my biceps but eventually move. I slowly move down her body and take a taut nipple into my mouth. She cries out and writhes beneath me, trying to get me to touch her some more. I bite down a little and she makes some more noise. I feel my face beginning to change and my fangs begin to take form. Yes, now my vampire habits kick in. She’s staring down at me and I sneer. Now, I can truly have what I want.

I begin to make plans in my head, just how much blood can I drink, if I need her alive to fix Dru? Where should I bite her? I settle for right above her breast. My head lowers but before I get to bite her, I am kicked out. The force of it all knocks me on my ass beside her bed. Her phone is ringing and I see her beginning to stir. Quickly I get myself, my erection, and my bloodlust out of this house and away from the bewitching slayer. This is not what I bargained for.


Buffy’s Point of View


I slowly come out of my sleep to the ringing of my phone. Grumbling, I pick it up.

“Hello?” I ask.

“Buffy? It’s Angel. Have you done that spell yet?” I mumble an unintelligible “yes.” So what if I lied? He woke me up. “I think I may have figured out where that symbol is from, I’ll run it by Giles tomorrow and one of us will get back to you if it is anything to be alarmed about.” Under any other circumstances I would be giving him hell for trying to keep me in the dark, however, tonight I just don’t care. He hangs up the phone and I’m left with a dial tone.

The clock says it’s 1a.m. and I am awake and sexually frustrated. There’s only one thing that could mean to me. Time to slay. I put sneakers on, throw on a coat, and hide away a couple of stakes. I look in the mirror quickly before I leave and laugh at myself. I am sure I am the epitome of a slayer as I stand here with bags beneath my eyes and bunny pajamas. I’m downright fierce.

The cemetery is pretty empty. I’ve been doing a good job keeping the population down. I dust a new vampire or two that just crawled out of the ground and then I come across this gross slimy green demon.

He comes at me yelling “Slayer”. Because, you know, that’s original. After a few well placed punches to the face and a couple kicks to the torso he goes down. It’s a sad day when you realize your job doesn’t push you to your limits. It would be like me working at the Double Meat Palace. One day I expect that place to go all Soylent Green and demons and myself will be the only ones left. Then, and only then, will my job be hard. I start laughing out loud at my thoughts of Sunnydale going cannibalistic and the demon takes that time to spit in my face.

“Rude much?” I ask it and twist his head. I feel the bones crack beneath it’s skin and shudder. I hate it when they crunch.

Standing up, I wipe the gook off of my face and wipe my hands on grass nearby. I keep telling myself it could be worse. The spit could smell bad, or it could burn. It could always be worse.

I hear a slight chuckle coming from a crypt across the cemetery. It’s a man with a long black trench coat and platinum blond hair. I can’t make out his face or eyes, but I know it’s him. I begin to run towards him, I’m going to kill him. This is it. As I get closer the feeling in my stomach returns and I begin to get excited. I run even faster and then I realize something. I can’t see him anymore. I can’t see anything anymore. My world has turned black and then it hits me. It literally hits me. The grave stone that is. I know that Slayer’s should be graceful and whatnot, but you try running at full speed and then suddenly go blind, and then try not to hit anything.

He closes the gap between us while I am still lying on the ground. Leaning down to my face he says, “Jackpot.”

It could always be worse.