Evil Dreams
By Miss Drusilla
Love. Bliss. Passion. For now it was theirs. And it was all Buffy Summers could ever dream of having. She kissed Angel feverishly, like every second was running away from them, threatening to pull them apart. And in a way it would.
Dawn approached, and he would have to leave soon. But for now it was their time. Her need for him was obvious. He returned that need for her in the same force; she could feel it with every kiss. Time began not to matter. They would be together. Forever.
Then, out of no where, he was gone. At least, Angel was. Angelus was back, and ready to kill her. The kissing stopped, and he stepped back to show her his vampire visage. Buffy felt unable to move. Unable to breathe.
He grinned, fangs well bared in the moonlight over them. And then those same fangs sank into Buffy’s neck. Angelus began to drain the blood from her.
The love Buffy once felt began to fade. When it was gone, only despair was replacing it. Despair as empty as time had now become to her.
Buffy woke in a cold sweat, the effects of the dream still weighing heavy on her mind. She hoped it wasn’t one of those prophetic dreams Slayers often get. She wouldn’t want to die at the hands of the man she had loved.
Well… Still loved. It was a touchy subject really, about as touchy as working out her issues as far as dying at the hands of the master had been. It was a definite emotionally draining thing to think about.
She realized then that it was about six thirty. Time to get up and get ready for school. Great. That was the last thing she wanted to be doing right now. But when was it ever something she wanted to do? Buffy pulled herself out of bed. Time to start the day… she told herself.
Love. Bliss. Passion. For now it was theirs. Angelus felt the love and need he’d had for Buffy when he still had his soul. He hated it, was disgusted by it, but it wouldn’t leave him.
With each kiss he and Buffy shared, that love kept growing. Something in Angelus’ mind kept telling him to stop, but he found he couldn’t. He had to break away, kill her while he had the chance. But he couldn’t. His utter disgust grew with each level of want for her he took. But he just couldn’t stop kissing her.
This was wrong… It was disgusting. Angelus prayed for this to be a dream, no matter how real it felt. He had to wake up… had to wake up…
Angelus woke feverishly, eyes livid and filled with hate. He needed to do something. He felt like he was going to throw up. But night hadn’t come, so he couldn’t kill anything. Not that he wanted to kill anything besides that god awful Slayer these days.
But the dream still weighed heavily on his mind. The love, the need, the urgency to have her. It wouldn’t go away.Angelus was definitely going to throw up.