Spike flipped off the telly and sat back in his green armchair. "Another great instalment." He'd just finished watching Passions for the afternoon, and actually felt like he was regaining a little bit of normalcy in his unlife. He chuckled lightly at the thought. "I'm a neutered vampire who's in love with the dead Slayer, but all is back to normal at Chez Spike."

He had leaned his head back and closed his eyes for only a second, when all of a sudden the door to his crypt slammed open behind him. Spike instantly realized who it was; no one else barged in like she used to. He hung his head, also recognizing that he was dreaming again. He stood up and turned to see just what he'd expected. Buffy. Again.

"Hullo, love." He waved nonchalantly, wondering how this Buffy will be. Sad? Irritated? Confused? Brassed off? He turned back around and sat back down, ignoring her. It was his dream; he'd do what he liked.

"Spike? Hello? Ghost in your crypt and you just sit there?" Irritated, check.

"Sorry, Slayer, but like you say, this is a crypt. Dead things have been here before." He laid his head back again and re-closed his eyes, trying to shut her out. He felt her move around the chair to face him and simply stand there, waiting. He opened one eye. "Bloody hell, you're still here? Why don't you trot on back to the netherworld, eh, pet?"

She had her hands on her hips again and she was still sexy as hell when she did it. "Okay, lets review: I died. You mourned. I came back. You're indifferent? This is so not how I pictured things." She shook her head, disbelief written across her features. "What happened to all the heat and desire you talked about, huh?"

Spike started at the thought. This was his dream. He could do what he liked. A slow smirk reached across his lips, "So you wanna see heat and desire, do you?" In less than a second, he had stood up, grabbed her around the hips and pushed her roughly against the pillar behind her. As he'd suspected, in his dream world, he had no chip, so it didn't go off when he slammed her against the column. "Hang around a bit, love, you'll see all you like." With that, he smashed his lips down to hers, taking out all of his frustration and pain on Dream Buffy's mouth.

The blonde vampire pulled away only when he heard a low moan escape the girl's throat. He looked down into her hazel eyes, all the passion he felt reflected there, backed only by confusion. "Spike…what are you…this isn't what I meant."

She raised her arms to his shoulders, doubtlessly to push him away, but he simply chuckled at her attempts. He took her left arm and pinned it behind her, using the advantage to pull her body full against his. She cried out, breathing heavily, but didn't try to get away again.

"Sure it is, Slayer. You wanted heat, I'm giving it to you." He let his right hand move from her hip, lightly caressing her side as it found its way to her breast. He heard her gasp involuntarily as he started to lightly stroke it. "But if this isn't really what you want, just say so. Say 'No, Spike, I don't want you.' And I'll stop." He dipped his head down and began kissing high on her neck, just below her ear, and he felt her lean into his touch. He moved his mouth up to her earlobe and nibbled lightly, continuing "Just tell me you don't want me to kiss you," he laid a feathery kiss on her jugular, "or to lick you," he emphasized 'lick' by doing just that up the column of her neck, earning another gasp, "or to bite you," again he demonstrated, nibbling along her jugular, causing an intense shudder to go through her body, "or to…" He looked deep into her eyes, and rubbed himself between her legs, making her very aware of how excited he was. "Just tell me you don't want any of it, and I'll stop."

He continued to let his lips and tongue dance along her neck and his hand caress her breast, as he waited patiently for her answer. "Go ahead, love." He let his demon visage come forward and he bit down hard on her neck, drawing blood. The Slayer moaned loudly as her free hand shot up to the vampire's neck, holding his mouth to her neck. He pulled away and lapped gently at the twin punctures. "Tell me to stop."

Spike pulled away and turned his blue eyes on her, smoldering with passion. He watched as several emotions played across her face. After a moment, the fingers of her right hand began to stroke the back of his neck. She looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes and said, "No." She took a steadying breath and continued, "No, Spike. Don't stop."

Without another word, the blonde vampire met her mouth in another bruising kiss. He let her left arm go and it immediately found his chest, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him as close as she could, roughly returning his kiss. Letting her other hand snake down to meet the left one, she pulled a way, a smirk on her face. "Allow me," she grinned, and tore his shirt clean from his body. One very aroused Spike growled in appreciation and anticipation.

Dream Buffy reached out to the bleached vampire and was stroking his chest and stomach, cherishing his finely chiselled muscles. She finally let her hands rest at his waistline, her fingers dipping below the waistband of his jeans. She winked once, before shoving him fiercely so that he fell back into his chair. Before he realized what had happened, she was on top of him, licking and kissing his chest, shoulders, and neck.

"Spike? Are you asleep?" It wasn't a voice in his dream world, he knew, because he was busy moaning and Dream Buffy's mouth was busy making its way happily downward. Knowing his dream was almost over, he grabbed Dream Buffy's shoulders, closed his eyes, and pulled her in for one more passionate kiss. As he pulled away, he kept his eyes closed, leaning his head back again.

"Um, Spike?" Willow's voice forced his eyes open, because it was so close to his face and almost a whisper. When he opened them, he saw a bright red Willow looking seriously embarrassed and holding a hand to her lips. Realization dawned on him. It wasn't Dream Buffy he'd just kissed.

"Bloody hell." He sighed deeply and looked away from the still blushing redhead. "Sorry, Red, but that's what you get for waking me up in the middle of a dream." He got up and walked to where his duster lay, in search of smokes. "A really good dream, that."

"Was it about Buffy?" She knew it was from the way that his body stiffened at the name. This little visit had already turned into more than she'd expected, and she wasn't sure anymore that she should be doing the heart-to-hearting. The kiss had been so full of intensity and misery, passion and failure; it had almost hurt to be apart of it. She had felt all of the love he kept for Buffy in that kiss and now she was going to tell him he needed to move on?

Spike tried to shrug off her question, still looking for his cigarettes. "What makes you say that, pet?" He found the pack and took a fag out, lighting it up and inhaling deeply.

"Well, I just know you've been thinking about her a lot still, and I just wanted to make sure you were dealing okay."

"And, what? You don't think ole Big Bad is dealing, then?" He turned his scrutiny at her, starting to get angry. He was dealing fine, thank you very much. If you didn't count the dreams, that is.

"We're just worried about you, Spike."

"We? There's a 'we' now?"

Willow nodded slowly; she could tell he was getting angry. "All of us. We've noticed how you're still grieving. You're all edgy and you hardly ever leave here. The dreams can't be healthy for you."

Spike felt his demon clawing at the surface, desperate to be let out, but he kept his voice quiet and even. "How do you know about the dreams?" He saw on her face that she hadn't meant to say anything about the dreams until he mentioned them. "I've only told Dawn about them. Did she run and tell all her little Scoobies that I'm having unhealthy denial dreams?" This was exactly why he didn't talk about his emotions. They were always thrown back at him like they were wrong, evil, whatever. First, with Cecily, then with Buffy, now with Dawn, not to mention a million times in between.

"No! Dawn would never - "

"Get out, Red." He turned away from her and sat back down in his chair. He'd had enough. If they wanted unhealthy, he'd give them unhealthy.

Willow looked on in shock. "Spike, you can't just - "

"Get. Out. Now."

The witch turned and went to the door, unable to figure out what was going on. Spike's voice was so cold when he told her to leave, it was as though they were back to square one: wanting each other dead. With one last look over her shoulder, she left the grieving vampire to his thoughts. And to his dreams.

***

Spike waited a few seconds after hearing the door quietly click shut, before standing up and beginning to pace. So they thought his moping about was unhealthy? So they were all worried about him? Well, bollocks to them. He didn't need them looking out for him, he was fine on his own. He always had been before, and now, once again, he felt the Lone Wolf status calling him.

Besides, if he needed their help he would have gone to them eventually. He'd done it before, when he first got chipped. He needed help; he sought it out. Why should this time be any different? 'You forget,' a soft voice in his head called, 'you forget how long you waited before you sought that help. It was almost too late.' The memory of how starved he'd been when he finally broke down and went to the Scoobies for help made him shudder involuntarily. He'd literally been skin and bones, hadn't eaten in what seemed like forever. The little voice in his head spoke up again, 'don't let it get to be too late before you get them to help you this time.'

"I DON'T NEED THEIR BLOODY HELP!" he screamed to no one in particular. Now he was seriously pissed off and wanted desperately to kill something. He lit a new cigarette with the dying embers of the previous one, "I'm fine! The dreams are nothing! In fact! They're a good thing! Denial my ass…I know she's dead. I know she's not coming back. They're just stupid bleeding dreams, I know that!" He continued to pace and puff, but he was quickly losing steam, as a new idea came to him. "They're just dreams. If I know they're just dreams then it isn't denial to indulge in them." He felt a smile creep across his face as he took a final drag on the cigarette between his fingers, tossing away the half-burned butt. He took off his shirt and boots and crawled happily into his bed, intent on enjoying the dreams everyone thought were so bad for him.

Within moments, Dream Buffy bounded into his crypt, a smirk to match his own on her lips. "So, love," he said in greeting. "Whatever shall we do?"

***

Meanwhile, back in the Magic Shop, Willow sat back, almost finished retelling her story of Spike's angry outburst. She had left the kiss for last, because she knew it would cause the most concern. "It was just so intense, so intimate. I froze; I didn't know what to do. When I realized what he thought was going on, I just got so sad." She let her words hang in the air, waiting for questions and comments from her friends.

Xander was the first to speak. "It should have been me," he said absently, earning surprised looks from everyone. As he realized what he'd said, his head shot up, and he began to stammer, "No, not like that. I just mean if I had gone to talk to him, he would have never tried something like that."

"I don't think it was intentional, Xander. He was dreaming, he didn't realize…" Willow again let her words trail off, and it was Tara who spoke next.

"Did you kiss him back?"

Everyone looked at the quiet blonde, whose voice was, for once, steady and without stutter. Willow knew she would be upset, but had hoped they could talk about it in private. "No, Tara, I didn't kiss him back. I was too shocked to do anything." After a beat, she amended her words, hurriedly. "Not that I would have anyway."

Again, the calm and quiet voice came, "Too shocked to even push him away?" Her eyes told a story her voice did not, one of hurt and dull aggravation. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Honey, I-"

The redheaded witch had begun to explain, when Tara stood from the table and began to walk towards the door. She spoke without turning back to look at them. "I'm going for a walk, I'll see you all later." And then she was gone.

Willow sat back in defeat. "I was just trying to help."

"Well?" The until-then silent Anya prodded, obviously intrigued by Tara's question. "Did you enjoy it?"

Everyone ignored Anya and looked sympathetically towards the witch, but when Giles next spoke, it was back to business.

"I'm sorry, Willow, but I was just wondering." He stopped mid-thought, as though trying to organize his ideas. "You said he didn't realize what he was doing? When did he realize what had happened?"

"Well, he kissed me and then pulled away, leaned back in his chair, still asleep. He didn't realize what he'd done until I woke him up."

"Which means," everyone watched as Giles slipped easily back into the role of Watcher and the wheels in his head started turning, "that he actually believed you were Buffy when he kissed you. He didn't realize anything was amiss, or even that he was actualising something that had happened in this fantasy world he has created for himself."

The entire gang sat back and took in what the ex-Watcher had said, until finally someone said the words they were all thinking.

"It's worse than we thought," Xander stated.

"Quite," continued the elder man. "If he continues to indulge in these dreams, it is relatively possible that the lines between fantasy and reality can become rather blurred for Spike. Soon, he'll be unable to tell what is real and what has been generated by his mind."

At the sound of a body slumping to the ground, the gang turned to find Dawn, who had fainted at the door of the Shop.