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Wake up tonight
-Goo Goo Dolls, "Stay With You"

Thursday, September 25, 1997

Well, that'd been fun. I stood in the shower letting the hot water sooth away the aches and pains from my fight earlier at the school. Stupid vampire, he was supposed to wait till Saturday. He'd said he'd kill me on Saturday, not Thursday night. I'd worked so hard to make everything perfect for Parent-Teacher night, too. I was pissed with stupid Spike and his stupid hair and stupid clothes for ruining what had been an otherwise, well, absolutely terrible evening.

The vanilla shampoo smelled terrific as I scrubbed my hair. Truthfully, things hadn't been going that great, what with Principal Snyder telling my Mom what a big pain in the butt I was. I just could have used a distraction that involved slightly less death and without the risk of great bodily harm to those I care about. I really don't know how my Mom didn't clue into the whole Slayer situation, but at least she recognized I'm somewhat capable of taking care of things.

With the last suds rinsed away, I stepped out of the shower and pulled a big fluffy towel around me. Wiping the condensation off the mirror, I looked at myself. Same girl as always. There was a big purple bruise discoloring my left arm. It'd be a few days before I could wear anything sleeveless. Idiot, moronic, dumb vampire. A little moisturizer and a comb through my hair and
I was all ready for bed.

After pulling my favorite fuzzy PJs on, I went to find my Mom for a goodnight kiss.

She was downstairs, making a grocery list.

"Oh, honey," she wrapped me in a big hug, "Are you sure that guy didn't hurt you?" She brushed the damp hair out of my face, giving me a concerned look.

"I'm all with the okey and the dokey Mom. What about you? It's not every day you hit somebody with an axe." Unlike me, I mentally added. Also, Spike really didn't count as a somebody. Thing - yes, body - no. Of course, my Mom had bought the gang on PCP excuse that was the official Sunnydale PD line, and I wasn't about to enlighten her.

She smiled at me. "Thanks for the concern, but he was trying to hurt you. I'm just sorry I didn't hit him harder." Well, that made two of us. My life would be a thousand times easier if Spike was a big pile of dust.

I pressed a kiss to her cheek and headed for the depths of my warm and comfy bed. Snuggling down under the comforter I tried to lay on my left side, but the bruise on my arm smarted. I rolled to the right and felt my hip twinge from where I'd landed on it during the fight. Lying on my back made my shoulders complain loudly. Fabulous, every ache was reminding me of the monster that caused it. A good sleep and Slayer healing meant that I'd be just fine in the morning, but that wasn't making things any easier right this second.

Somehow I'd managed to avoid cracking any ribs, so laying on my stomach and hugging my pillow ended up being my only viable option. Of course, once I got my body relaxed it didn't mean my mind followed.

I kept playing the fight over and over in my mind. Spike had killed two Slayers in the past, though I didn't know how or when. He probably would have added another notch to his belt tonight if my Mom hadn't intervened. It was scary to admit that he might be a better fighter than I was. At least he'd fought fair, unlike the Master with his thrall or Darla with her guns. Spike had been willing to go toe to toe, just fists and fangs. Though he'd done the wiggy hand thing when I'd asked him about weapons. I'm sure he was just trying to psych me out somehow by running a hand down his abdomen. And damn him, because it'd totally worked. I'd felt kind of all fluttery and funny for a second.

I needed to stop thinking about this and go to sleep. Like now. I'd train harder and I'd dust Spike the next time he attacked. And there'd so totally be a next time. Angel had told me that his bleach blonde, ridiculous, leather-clad ass wouldn't give up. Well, I'd be ready for him.

Angel - the thought made me smile against my pillow. I imagined those coffee brown eyes gazing into mine, my name on his lips. He was my knight in shining armor. Not that I spent a lot of time needing to be saved. Mostly, I spent long, boring nights walking through graveyards by myself. Would it kill him to keep me company sometimes? And where was he earlier? I could have used his help fighting Spike. Wonderful, now I was thinking about the bleached menace again.

Angel, Angel, Angel, Angel, Angel!

I kept my eyes tightly closed and tried to do some of the breathing exercises for relaxation that Giles had taught me. Deep breath in through my nose, hold it, and out through my mouth. Rinse and repeat.

At some point I must have fallen asleep, though of course I didn't remember it. The next thing I was aware of was a weird, swimmy, feeling in the pit of my stomach and the sensation of falling. I sat bolt upright in bed, only I must be dreaming because I wasn't in my bed or even in my room. I reached my hand out to run it over the silky looking sheets, but - oh, God- that wasn't my hand. The fingers were long, graceful, and white as a bone.

It was a very lucid dream, every minute detail in stark focus and technicolor. I brought both hands up in front of my face, turning them this way and that. I wiggled the (my?) fingers, marveling at the slim knuckles and carefully manicured nails. The black polish was immaculate, something that just didn't happen when you were the Slayer and spent a lot of time punching things. The sheer strangeness of the situation was blunted by the fact that I was so damned hungry. My middle felt hollow.

A warm chuckle from across the room had my eyes snapping to the doorway. To my horror Spike was standing there, fists on hips, apparently laughing at me. I scuttled back against the headboard, then to the side of the bed farthest from him. I wanted to fight, but I felt wrong, and weak.

He raised an eyebrow at me "Something's the matter, Dru?"

"I'm not Dru." I said in a voice and accent that wasn't mine.

Spike's face took on an indulgent look, and he walked around the side of the bed to stand next to me. I gulped, terror and panic welling up inside. But there was something missing. A sensation that should be there that wasn't.

"If you're not Dru, who are you then, pet?" He had rather long eyelashes for a man, I mean vampire, which I hadn't noticed before. Currently he was looking at me through them, a half smile tugging up one corner of his lips. I couldn't very well blurt out that I was Buffy, or the Slayer. Obviously, whoever's body I was in, it wasn't mine. It must belong to this "Dru." Some major wigging was going on in my brain. At that moment my empty middle gave a painful stab.

"I'm hungry." I said without much thought. The amusement fled from Spike's face and he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. He took one of my hands in his, and his fingers felt neither warm nor cold, just a little rougher than my own. Fear threatened to choke me. I was being touched by an evil, soulless vampire. I wanted to push him away or punch him in the nose. Only I, or I guess this body, felt far too fragile to make much of a go at either.

Spike was looking worriedly into my eyes, which caused more wiggy feelings. I fluttered my free hand, nerves making me restless. I brought it up against my chest to keep the damn thing still.

"I'm sorry, luv," he was saying. "I was a mite busy tonight. I promise, I'll go out hunting tomorrow and bring you something tasty."

Suddenly, I figured out what was wrong with the body I was in. Under the hand on my chest there was no movement. I was terrified and my heart wasn't pounding away. My eyes grew round and I gasped. I glared back at the starling blue eyes that looking at me in concern. "I don't have a heartbeat." I said.

Spike threw his head back and laughed. When he looked at me again his eyes were twinkling and that indulgent smile was back.

"Been rather a long time on that one." He brought the hand he was holding to his mouth and kissed my knuckles with surprising soft lips. Oh, eww, no. I'm not going to have any opinion about his lips, or any other part of him, for that matter. If only I were stronger, I fumed. His guard was completely down and it'd be easy to stake him.

I also had to deal with the obvious: Dru was a vampire. I was stuck in a vampire's body. Not cool. It meant this hideous, aching emptiness wasn't a craving for a Big Mac and fries. I was feeling a vampire's hunger for blood. Gross. Did that also mean there was a demon inside here with me? I didn't feel particularly demonic.

The lack of what Spike would consider 'something tasty' suddenly made me glad. In the presence of blood, I'd seen more than one vampire lose their cool and become nothing more than their desire to feed. I really didn't want to find out how Dru's body would react when presented with a meal. I'm not sure I could live with myself if I ate somebody. It occurred to me that he was probably planning on bringing me, as in the Slayer, back to Dru for dinner. So now I was suffering hunger pains because Spike didn't beat me at the school. Wow, weird.

Standing up, Spike tugged at my hand. "Let's go make nice with his highness, shall we?" Hesitantly, I stood up next to him, and immediately realized that I was several inches taller than normal. I felt like a giraffe, and that thought coupled with the strangeness of it all made me giggle. Spike gave me a smile and tucked my hand into his elbow, like he was escorting me at a ball. I would still rather not be touching him, but since I didn't know what was happening or where we were going, I let him guide me.

We didn't go far, just down a hallway and up a set of steps into a huge room that must have once been the factory's work floor. Whatever machines that had been here were now long gone, but there were still chains and hooks all over the place. Even a couple of cages. There were also vampires. I stopped suddenly, making Spike stumble. He cursed quietly under his breath, rubbing his side. He'd been limping too. It was enough to make a Slayer feel proud.

"Did I hurt you?" I asked, forgetting myself for a moment.

He turned to face me, uncomfortably close. I could smell him. Not like he stank, just a very clear scent that belonged to him. Must be the vampire body I was in, since I could smell a lot of other things too. Dust, old wood polish, something spicy but faint, the other vampires in the room, as well as cigarettes and leather. The last two were part of Spike, but separate from whatever made him uniquely him. How did I ever manage to sneak up on vampires at all when they had noses like this?

"Not you," he said, shaking his head. "The Slayer. I was close baby, but..."

He'd grabbed my hand again, and I gave it a squeeze out of pity. I immediately wished I hadn't as he stepped closer and dropped his head onto my shoulder. He didn't seem to notice my awkward stiffness. Whoever Dru was, she must be totally looney since Spike seemed willing to accept any amount of weird behavior I tossed his way. Thank goodness for small favors.

He heaved a sigh into my shoulder. Weird vampire with all the breathing. Was I breathing? Well, now I was since I was thinking about it. Spike's voice was muffled against me "A Slayer with family and friends. That sure as hell wasn't in the brochure."

I smiled, glad to know I was throwing a monkey wrench in his plans. I let go of his hand and ducked away from him. I'd started getting those fluttery feelings again and I couldn't afford to be distracted. "I'm sure you'll get her next time," fat chance, "and we can have a party."

Spike had turned away from me to look at the group of vampires across the room. "Yeah, a party." He said distractedly.

"I'll sing you Happy Birthday." For some reason I found it annoying that he wasn't still focused on me. He just ignored my inane comment. For which I was actually glad. I'd meant it to bug him and be silly, but I'd wound up thinking more of Marilyn Monroe's breathy version.

"How's the Annoying One?" Spike asked. I looked again at the other vamps, and sure enough one of them was the boy who'd led me down into the Master's chamber. Great - there was no way I had any idea how he was doing.

"The same." I answered.

"Well, I better go make nice." He left me standing there, going over to kneel in front of the Anointed One. While I didn't really know him, the whole posture seemed very un-Spike like to me. The Anointed One and his cronies seemed to be eating it up though. I was surprised I could hear what they were saying. Vampire hearing, I guess.

It turned out I was right however, as Spike spent about thirty seconds being contrite before laughing in their faces. He grabbed the Anointed One and knocked out the minion that tried to oppose him.

Spike tossed the small vampire (I refused to think of him as a kid, the demon had completely taken over) into a cage and hauled it up into the first sunlight of dawn. There went one of my headaches up in a puff of smoke.

I smiled at Spike as he strolled back over to me. I felt weirdly grateful that he'd made the most pressing of my problems as the Slayer better, even if he did it unknowingly.

He grabbed my hand again. "Let's see what's on TV." I started to follow him when the vertigo hit me. My stomach rolled and then I was back in my bedroom on Revello Drive, sitting at my vanity, and looking at my normal Buffy face in the mirror. Well, almost normal. My makeup and hair had been done to perfection. I put a hand over my heart, feeling it's comfortable pulse.

I also wasn't dressed in PJs anymore. I had a black sweater and blue jeans on, with a pair of heels. What was going on? Had I been sleep walking? It all had to just be a very, very odd dream, right? Not that I was thrilled my subconscious had spent most of the night making me dream about Spike.

I stood up, and my diary and a notebook lying open on my bed caught my eye. I walked over and picked up the notebook, a pink pen clattering to the floor. The handwriting was neat and old fashioned.

Hi Buffy!

I'm sorry I read you diary, but I wanted to know who I woke up in. My name is Drusilla. I hope you didn't hurt my Spike too much; I need him to take care of me. You have a pretty face. it was nice to see it.

Oh hell.