Spike had dreamed about Buffy. She was in his crypt, looking for him. She'd gotten into a fight with some vamp and questioned him about something. He couldn't remember what. He never remembered dreams well. Bloody stupid, they were. They never told you anything, just put thoughts in your head that could drive a bloke insane. But, dreaming was better than awake in his prison. Something wanted him dead. That much, Spike new. You didn't come uninvited into someone's crypt and carry them off to bloody never-never land unless you had a problem with them. The whole chain thing was a dead giveaway. Of course, he and Buffy had had some fun with chains once... He could see her in his mind's eye, shimmering like an angel. God, he loved her. For a minute, he allowed himself to dwell on her sweet smile, the way her eyes got wide when she was mad, the way she moaned in her sleep, and then he was knocked unconscious and began to dream again.