January 18, 1981
A dark haired woman, with porcelain white skin, dances into the alley behind a bar. Following her, a platinum blood man in a black leather duster."My sweet Spike, look at what I've found." She whispers seductively into his ear, while tracing her finger along his neck. Deeper in the alley, there is an unsuspecting couple, consumed by there passion. Spike presses his lips hard agaisnt hers, playfully biting her bottom lip. "Dru luv, I do believe you're right." He says just before they both attack their prey. Dru sneaking up behind the male, and Spike the female. Inhaling the scent of their victims, the male and female both frozen in fear. "God I love the smell of fear." Spike states as he sinks his fangs into her. "Makes for a yummy flavour." Dru continues as she follows suit. It's not long until their blood has been drained, and Spike and Dru are at each other in a moment of lustfulnes. Not something out of the ordinary after a kill.
They finish the night, back in there abandoned wearhouse, where they curl up and fall asleep.
January 19, 1981
Spike finds himself in a crypt, fighting a girl with blond hair and radiant sunkissed skin. For every punch or kick she landed, he landed one right back. There was no anger in there blows. No intent to truly harm. This was not a battle. This was a passionate dance. One with no winner, or loser. Just two people seeking release. Spike pins the girl to the ground. Instead of finisjing her off, he closses the distance between them, and crashes his lips against hers. Hungrily they grab at each other, trying to get even closer to each other. The girl wraps her legs around him. He thrusts his hips into her. Momentarily seperating there lips for a much needed human breath, Spike continues kissing her along her neck while she pulls at his hair. " I love you Spike" She says between breaths. He brings his lips back up to meet hers in a blazing hot kiss. They continue their sensual dance, until both find the release they are looking for. Both, utterly satisfied, find there way to the bed where they lay, wrapped securely in each others arms. Her hand placed perfectly over his beating heart, and his over hers. Beating in perfect rythym, as if they shared the same heart. There emotions entangled as if they shared the same soul.
Spike wakes up in a blanket of overwhelming bliss. The hands of his lover trailing lines up and down his chest. He turns his head, only to be dissapointed to see the face looking back it him was not the sunkissed goddess, but Drusilla. How was this possible. How could one stupid dream leave him wanting more? It had felt so real. But he knows that what he had dreamt is impossible. He had had a heartbeat, and a soul. Something that was taken from him over a century ago by the woman currently sharing his bed. Still, there was this all consuming feeling that it was real. He suddenly feels unclean laying next to the dark princess that takes up the other half of his bed.
Sunnydale, 1997
"Spike, where are we?" Drusilla asks sleepily, with her head against the car window. "Sunnydale" he replied. A wave of serenity washing over him.