The cool sheets of the unoccupied side of the bed were a welcome relief against Buffy's burning flesh. Five hours without so much as a break had taken it's physical toll on both the slayer and vampire, their supernatural stamina not really being much of a help anymore. Buffy knew it was time to get moving soon but she was just too tired. Her legs felt like jelly and her heart was hammering so fast, she thought her chest might explode.

"Bloody hell, slayer. You try'na make me look like a beginner?" he panted. Her hopes of him not making conversation were now ruined.

"Not my fault if you can't keep up. I thought you were meant to be experienced anyway."

Spike, still on his back, rolled his head towards her and raised an eyebrow. "And who told you that, sweet cheeks?"

Buffy deliberately nibbled her lip in a mischievous way.

"You're a hundred years old, right? I just assumed you'd had plenty of...y'know."

He knew exactly what. He just wanted to hear the tounge tied slayer say it herself. "Don't get why you're shy. Especially after today." He ran his eyes over her sheet covered body, making her squirm uncomfortably. "You've done things I never thought you were capable of. Never thought you were that kinda girl."

"Yeah, well, there's a lot of things you don't know about me," she snapped, rolling away from her lover and shuffling as far towards the edge of the bed as she could without falling off. Spike silently cursed himself for going down that path of conversation. He was only going to scare her off faster like that. He started again with the first thing that came into his head.

"Have you ever been abroad?" he asked her.

Buffy paused, looking back at him. "Huh?"

"Abroad, y'know, gone somewhere foreign."

The confusion on her face changed to wariness.

"Why?"

"Oh, it's just... nothin' never mind."

"No," she insisted, rolling over to face him. "What is it?" Where was he going with this? What was he trying to get out of her?

Meanwhile, Spike was proud of himself for getting her hooked. He tried to not let it show on his face. If he could only keep her talking, then she might forget she ever wanted to go. Well, it was a long shot, but it was worth a try. Problem was, that wasn't really the thing lingering on his mind so he didn't have much to say about it.

There was a hint of genuine embarrassment in his voice as he admitted, "I was just thinking it would be a damn shame if yer slayin' duties got you from seein' the world."

"Oh," Buffy replied. It looked like he'd short circuited her brain, because she seemed lost for how to reply. Eventually though, she found her words. "I guess that's never really worried me. I've got all I care about here in Sunnydale. And London of course now."

Spike couldn't help but recall the reasons she was here. He could kid himself when she passionately threw herself into their lovemaking but not now. Especially not now. Even if they were having a normal conversation. Before he knew it, she was asking why he'd asked. Well, this was going to go one of two ways. She'd either be on her merry way in a minute or so or she'd be laughing her head off. He only just preferred the second option. Bloody hell, why hadn't he thought this through before mouthin' off.

"Had a dream, a couple o' nights ago. Bloody weird one at that." He thought for a few seconds. "Was about you. Well, you and me. If we both had normal lives. You weren't the slayer and I wasn't a vamp."

The slayer's immediate instinct was to stop him there and remind him that they didn't have average lives and he was only torturing himself by fantasising. But she never denied a chance to escape reality and found herself intrigued. At the same time, she didn't want to show just how interested she was.

"Do I wanna hear this?"

"Probably not."

"So...I guess that means you're gonna carry on and tell me anyway."

The vampire smirked. "Well...yeah."

The following silence gave Spike some time to order his thoughts.

"We still didn't like each other at first. You hated the way I lived my life and I thought you were a stuck up bitch."

Buffy scowled at him.

"Felt like that was the case for a while."

Buffy lifted her legs to her chest. "Not so different from the real world then."

Despite her thoughtless jab, Spike continued.

"Yeah, but since we both had normal lives, things became different. Things changed."

Buffy started to wonder whether he'd secretly been at the whisky. What was he talking about? Despite him not being a blood sucking demon in this dream, his overall personality would've still bugged the crap out of her, right?

"I've got no idea how the bloody hell time works in dreamland but next thing I knew, I was holding a kid. No clue where she came from or who's she was until I looked in her eyes. Dark jade. Bit like yours."

Buffy felt her heart begin to race again.

"Shoulder length brown hair, cute, round nose. The splitting image of you, really."

The slayer desperately wanted him to stop but at the same time, she couldn't pull herself away. As Spike continued to describe this little girl, Buffy found herself growing more attached to this image his words were creating, this memory. She'd never had the time to consider a family. It possibly hadn't even occured to her before, she couldn't recall. All the while, Spike continued, as lost in his story as Buffy was.

"I didn't even think about who this girl was to me until she called me..."

The slayer was suddenly torn from her delusion. She didn't even need him to finish his sentence to know what he was going to say.

"I know its impossible. I know it always will be but-" The vampire was cut off as a panicked Buffy flung herself out of the bed and began to dress.

"It was only a dream, love. No need to run off."

She shook her head. "I can't do this anymore."

Spike sighed. It wasn't like he hadn't heard that before.

"Sure, whatever you say. I'll leave a key under the sodding door mat just in case, shall I?" he snapped, sarcastically. Any other day, Buffy would knocked him half way across the room but she was more focused on getting out of there than she ever had been before. Now fully clothed, Buffy scurried up the ladder, to ground level and legged it outside, slamming the crypt door behind her. She slid down the door, both anger and guilt weighing her down. She couldn't keep doing this. It wasn't fair on him. He wanted so much more than she did and leading him on like this was cruel. If she couldn't give him what he truly wanted, she shouldn't be giving him anything at all.

It took a few minutes for her to relax and regain control but as soon as she had, her stomach decided to turn inside out. A rather unpleasant few seconds went by, concerning Buffy immediately after. Why was she throwing up? She never threw up? She didn't feel THAT guilty about Spike so anxiety sickness was out of the question. Then she stopped.

"Oh..."