Disclaimer: The main characters in this story belong to Mutant Enemy and Joss Wheddon. I love them, and like to play with them. The story has no commercial purpose.

Summary: Angelus never got a soul. He never met Buffy, at least not before the time of this story. There was no Initiative, no chip and no Dawn. Buffy met Spike for the first time at about 21. Buffy/Spike centred, but there will be reference to Spike/Dru, Dru/Angelus, Angelus/Darla, Angelus/Spike, Buffy/Riley, and Giles/Jenny. Not for Angel fans.

Rating: R or 18. There will be reference to sexual activity and violence (including violence of a sexual nature), although I intend to leave the details to your imagination. This story will probably be quite dark.

Feedback: Yes, please. Review or Email me at cryptic6464@yahoo.co.uk

I will use italics to show dreams or something written. If that's hard to read, let me know and I'll try something else.

Gifts Given and Received

By Josephine Martin

Chapter 1 - Dreams and Reality

November 2007

There were three dreams which recurred. Two were familiar memories. The first was of the day Dru had killed him. He had been miserable. The love of his life had told him he was beneath her and his heart was breaking. Then a beautiful woman stepped from the shadows, beckoning him closer.

"I want to give you a gift," she whispered, her voice full of promise.

At first, he thought she was a prostitute with a new line, but there was something in her face, in her eyes, that beckoned him. He couldn't resist and felt his feet moving towards her, entranced. When he reached her, she pulled him closer, holding him to her. He looked into her eyes and saw … love.

"What is your name, my love?" she whispered.

He was almost unable to speak, such was the rapture he felt, but he managed to croak a single word. "William."

"Oh, my William. You will be my William? I am going to give you a gift - such a wonderful gift. And some day, I may ask that you return my gift. Promise me, when I ask you, that you will return it."

At that moment, he could have denied her nothing, such was her power over him.

"I promise," he whispered.

"Good boy," she crooned, moving his head to have better access to his neck. With that, her face had changed and she had plunged her fangs into his neck.

Although the dream was of his death, it wasn't a bad dream. He always awoke from it, muttering her name - Dru - and feeling aroused, but unsatisfied. On this night, he snuggled closer to the sleeping form at his side. He wouldn't wake her to assuage his need. There would be plenty of time for that when they woke.

He slept again quickly, and immediately started to dream.

He saw her in the alleyway, just as he had that night. Of course he had seen her before. Many times. He had been watching and waiting for such a long time, and he knew this was his opportunity. There was something about her that evening. She didn't want to go on. Death had caught up with her, and she belonged to him, just as the other two Slayers he had killed. They fought. He could still remember every move they made. Every kick, every punch, every feint, every jump. It was glorious. It was poetry. But in the end, she was his. He held her against the wall, temporarily dazed by a blow to the head. He changed and started to drink. He immediately noticed the difference. She was embracing death. She was embracing him. She was pulling herself closer to him. The combination of her blood and her body was overwhelming.

He had never taken a woman as he drank from her before. It wasn't his style. It was the way Angelus did things, but not him. But he knew nothing could stop him this time. The way she was responding to him was more arousing even that the taste of her blood, and the blood of a Slayer was always an aphrodisiac. He removed the clothing between them, and took her. She responded to him as he moved, her sounds mingling with his as he drained her lifeblood and satisfied the lust that filled them both.

As she slumped in his arms, all but dead, but sated, he had known that he couldn't let her go. The only thing in his mind was his need for this woman. He slit his own wrist and made her drink from him. When she had finished, he carried her tenderly away to somewhere they could be alone.

The dream ended, but this time he didn't waken. Instead, the scene in his mind flitted to the third of his recurring dreams. This was the one he dreaded.

The three of them were together as they had never been in reality. He stood with the two women he loved, but loved in such different ways. On his right, stood his Slayer, his Buffy, his life. On his left stood Dru, his Sire. They had been together for so long, and he had loved and cared for his crazy beautiful Dru, but the Slayer had changed all of that. He would always love his Sire, but it was the bond between them that made it so. He knew that. He cared for her and he wanted to protect her, even though the one thing she needed protection from was the one thing she loved more than him. Her Sire, Angelus.

As Buffy watched, Dru called him to her, as she had that first night.

"Come to me, my William," she crooned.

Unable to stop himself, he moved towards her.

"Do you remember, my love, that night? The night when I gave you this gift?"

He reached her and she held him to her as she whispered in his ear. He put his arms around her, holding her close.

"I remember," he answered.

"It's time, my William. I said I would ask you to return my gift. It's time now."

He pulled away far enough to see in her eyes. In them, there was only love, but he stiffened when he felt the stake in her hand, held between their bodies and felt it piercing his skin.

He awoke panting in terror. That dream always had that effect. He opened his eyes to find Buffy watching him sleepily, her arms holding him tight, doing her best to make him feel safe.

"That dream?" she asked.

Unable to speak, he nodded and burrowed closer to her as she held him tight. His reaction to that dream had always puzzled him. He didn't fear his end so much that it should have had that effect on him. The only reason he had for fearing it was the way it would affect Buffy, but he knew that without her Sire, she would be free to live as she wished. He never really believed that her love was real. It was there because of the bond, just as his was for Dru. He knew he was a coward, that he should end his life for her, but he loved her too much to leave her. She was his everything.

When the sun set, they left their cottage. It was so beautiful there. The water of Loch Maree was dark, but glittered like a many faceted jewel in the moonlight. They ran together, hand in hand over the sand, laughing together with the joy they felt at being together. She stumbled, pulling him down as she fell, and they lay like that, holding each other closer, kissing until their passion grew and they made love under the stars.

Much later, they lay there watching the celestial show. The Northern Lights were flashing a rainbow of colour across the sky as they watched. Spike knew that this was as good as it got. And he knew that he didn't deserve it. As they lay there, the clouds started to cover the sky and rain started to fall. They ran back to their croft, already soaked to the skin. The early evening had been a bonus. November in north west Scotland wasn't renowned for its weather - unless it was for rain, of course. There were other advantages, though. The short day meant that they could be outside much more than elsewhere, and the cold and rain didn't really bother them. The running back to the croft was part of the game, part of pretending they were a normal couple.

They were still some way off from the croft when they saw that the loch had encroached into the land and that some sheep were trapped. The tide was coming in, and it would be only a matter of time before they drowned. The sheep were their source of food, and a valuable resource. Sending Buffy on ahead, Spike waded out into the icy water to rescue the sheep.

Seven sheep later, and Spike was wading back into the loch. Instantly, he felt her terror and pain. He left the sheep and ran back to the croft at full speed, but he was too late. Inside the croft was a scene of devastation. Furniture was overturned, and a knife had been taken to anything that would rip, but the most devastating thing in the room was the pool of blood which had been left on the floor. Spike dipped his finger into it and brought it to his mouth. There, for the first time, he tasted the mingled blood of his childe and his Sire, and he knew what had happened. Angelus had taken her.