Author's Note: OK, guys, here's the beginning of the B/S interactions I promised. I've changed the rating to NC-17 even though it hasn't quite got there yet, but it's no longer a complete tease. Hope you enjoy!

Spike laughed.

Buffy didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it had been anything but that.

He was almost in hysterics by now and fell out of his seat onto the floor. “Honestly,” he shook his head, fighting back tears of mirth, “this has to be the lamest scheme you guys ‘ave ever come up with!” He frowned for a minute, baffled as to why that line sounded so familiar.

Buffy did as well, and then she shook her head. “This isn’t a trick,” she insisted. “Jonathan’s evil!”

“Yeah…right,” he chuckled slightly to himself. “Go on then, Birdie,” he said, still amused. “Explain to me why Jonathan’s…” snort, “…evil.”

“Remember that monster we were looking for earlier?” Buffy demanded, more irritated than flustered by Spike’s reaction. “W-Well, it has the same symbol on its forehead that Jonathan has on his shoulder. And Jonathan’s been covering for it. A-And he’s everywhere! It’s like the universe centers around him or something. It’s weird! It’s not natural!”

Spike rolled his eyes in her direction. “Someone’s jealous,” he sing-songed.

“I’m not jealous!” she insisted. “Look, I’m going to tell you this from the beginning, and you’re going to believe me.”

“What? ‘Cause you said so?” he taunted her. “Please. ‘ve got better things to do with my time.”

“You’re just waiting for the scene where Jonathan’s shirtless,” she accused when he moved to turn the TV back on.

That did the trick. His hand whipped back as if it had been stung.

“Right then,” Spike let out an annoyed sigh and turned to look at her. “You’re not goin’ away anytime soon, are you?”

“Just listen,” Buffy persisted.

“Go ahead,” he said wearily. “Not like I can do anything else while you’re yammerin’ away,” he muttered under his breath.

Buffy ignored his comment. “A few days ago the monster attacked one of Jonathan’s groupies. It was on the front lawn of his mansion. The girl barely escaped with her life.”

“Kudos to the monster,” Spike interrupted impatiently. “Always said someone needed to thin the herd around that fellow. Is this going somewhere?”

“The monster had a mark on its forehead,” Buffy continued to plod through her story. “This symbol,” she held up the piece of paper in her pocket. “When this girl drew the symbol for Jonathan, he reacted. He recognized it.”

“The man is an expert in over twelve fields of demon study,” Spike raised an eyebrow at her.

“He recognized it, but he did nothing. He said it wasn’t dangerous and it had probably left town anyway,” she added.

“Well, then it left town,” Spike shrugged and reached over to the television. “Problem solved.”

“Problem not solved,” she quickly put herself between him and the TV. He let out an annoyed little snarl, but couldn’t really do anything to move her. “The monster attacked again the next night. It hit a friend of Willow’s.”

“Prob’ly jus’ hungry ‘cause the chit last night got away,” he commented, off-hand.

“Maybe,” Buffy nodded slowly. “Anyway, Tara got away, too. Same symbol, same everything. It’s a pattern.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And Jonathan still says it nothing,” Buffy said triumphantly.

Spike’s brow furrowed slightly. “Maybe he jus’ knows the demon better’n we do,” he finally suggested. “After all, if he said—”

“And it’s not just that,” a smile crept up on her face as she saw the realization spark in the depths of his eyes. “Jonathan is everywhere. Literally. Can you name any other action hero? How about anyone else who’s won an Oscar in the past three years? Any other hit pop star? Any other author that’s written a best-selling book lately?”

Spike shook his head to each of them in turn.

“He did them all,” Buffy said. “It’s physically impossible. By my calculations, he must be filming at least four movies at a time. All of which he’s starring in. And none of which ever require him to be gone even for a minute. Plus, on top of that he slays, and he teaches, and he—”

“So?” Spike demanded.

“It’s impossible!” Buffy exclaimed. “No one is that big.”

The vampire pulled an old TV Guide from under his chair and tossed it to her. She looked to see Jonathan’s picture on the cover.

“Been on every cover for the past three months,” he commented, taking a deep drag of his cigarette.

“The Mayor even paused during his Ascension to have his picture taken with Jonathan. It’s ridiculous! Absurd!” she continued to pressure him.

“Back in the sixties, there was this huge craze ‘round the Beatles,” Spike began. “They were everywhere. ‘S just that way with Jonathan now.”

“But were they, literally, everywhere?” Buffy demanded. “Did every single person love them? What about the old people? Weren’t they scared that the Beatles were warping their children’s minds?”

“But Jonathan doesn’t do that,” Spike pointed out.

“Argh!” Buffy exclaimed in exasperation. She smashed her fist down against the back of his chair, and the piece of furniture crumbled under her strength.

“’ey!” Spike protested, leaping to his feet. “You know how long it took me to find one that didn’t smell?”

“Oops,” Buffy said nervously.

“ ‘Oops’?” he exclaimed in disbelief, circling around her like the predator he was. “ ‘Oops’?!”

“I didn’t mean to, and—hey! You’re the vampire here. I shouldn’t have to apologize to you,” her own tone abruptly turned angry.

He snorted derisively. “Yeah, like you’d have half a chance in hell, takin’ me on without the Big Boss to help you out.”

“Wanna test that?” she threatened, her fist flying at his nose with lightning speed.

His head rolled to the side just in time to avoid the full force of the blow. She dropped to the ground to kick his feet out from under him. He leapt. His own foot lashed out at her head, heedless of the chip. She slipped to the side just in time.

Kick. Block. Punch. Block. Kick. Flip. Kick. Block. Block. Block. Block. Block.

They both froze as their blows were simultaneously and perfectly deflected for the final time. Slowly, both their eyes widened as they looked at each other.

“We’ve done this before!” they both exclaimed in perfect unison.

“See?” Buffy said, still panting heavily from their fight. “Things like that… They’re just kinda off.”

Spike nodded in disbelief, staring at where he still held her wrist after deflecting her last punch. Abruptly he let go and backed away.

“I’ve been getting that weird feeling a lot,” she explained. “Like the world’s wrong. And whenever I think it, there’s this little voice in my head that tells me to stop. It feels like…” She trailed off, not really wanting to mention their oh-so-embarrassing engagement.

“Red’s spell,” he finished for her.

She nodded. “Can you feel it?” she asked hesitantly.

Slowly he nodded as well, and at that moment the irrational impulse to hug him in victory passed through her head before her common sense nipped it in the bud.

“’S’a spell then?” he asked curiously.

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I was talking to Anya, and she said this thing about alternate universes. How you can change this one little detail in reality, and everything still sorta works out but the whole world’s off…”

“An’ you think the change ‘s in Jonathan,” he said quizzically.

“I don’t know,” she shook her head. “But I just have this instinct that there’s something wrong about him, something I can’t trust.”

He gave her a wicked smirk. “An’ you trust the Big Bad?” he teased, sauntering over to her slowly. “Not very good instincts there, pet,” he whispered against her ear.

She felt the goosebumps rise on her neck at the feel of his icy breath against her skin. However, when she spoke her voice was calm and firm. “I don’t trust you,” she informed him, “but I do know that you may be the only person who will help me. I have no idea how strong the spell – or whatever – is, but it nearly ripped me apart when I fought against it. I don’t know if anyone else could, except for Jonathan…” she mentally slapped herself. “See? I’m still fighting it. But you…” she said, pulling back so she could look into his eyes. “In this world you’re meant to be Jonathan’s enemy. And that’s what I need in an ally right now.”

He frowned and turned away from her to examine the wreckage of his chair. “What makes you think ‘ll help you?” he finally asked.

“Revenge against Jonathan,” she replied matter-of-factly. “It’s not like you can get it any other way.”

Spike’s eyes narrowed at the reference to the chip, but then he shrugged it off. “You got anything better?” he asked, pulling a bottle of bourbon from behind the sarcophagus and taking a deep swig. “Money? Brandy?”

“What?” Buffy blinked in surprise. “Oh, er…um, yeah. I mean, I think I can get money…only, how much money?” she asked nervously.

“Goin’ up against Jonathan,” he said with a wry smile. “That’s tough. And ‘m completely defenseless should somethin’ happen to you, my unwitting ally… Two thou.”

“Two thousand?!” she exclaimed, outraged. “Hello, poor college student here! Where am I supposed to get two thousand dollars?”

He shrugged. “A resourceful girl like you? Bet you’ve got plenty o’ people to hit up. Hey, why not Jonathan?” he asked sarcastically. “Oh yeah, that’s right; no more Jonathan help for Becky.”

“You won’t help me,” Buffy rolled her eyes heavenward. “You know something’s wrong, and you still won’t do anything to fix it without money. Why am I even surprised?”

“’ey now,” Spike’s voice lowered to a soothing whisper, and in the blink of an eye he was right behind her, “there are always…other ways you could compensate me.” His hands ran lightly down the outsides of her arms, and he pressed himself up against her back.

“You bastard!” she screamed, her fist shooting out with lightning quick speed and catching him on the jaw right as he leapt backwards.

“Not quite that desperate, are we yet?” he said with a cocky grin.

“That’s it, Spike!” she hissed with rage. “You’re dust!” She pulled a stake from her sleeve and advanced on him.

“Oy, Slayer,” he held up his hands hastily. “Is that any way to treat your new ally?”

Buffy’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What?” she finally blurted out in complete bafflement.

“I don’ like desperate allies,” he shrugged nonchalantly and tested his jaw. “Quite a nasty left hook, by the way.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I. Will. Do. It. Hello?” he waved a hand in front of her face. “You passed my l’il test…for now. I will still be expectin’ whatever money you can spare.” He frowned at the destruction to his crypt. “An’ you owe me a new chair.”

“A h-hundred,” Buffy’s mind was still in a bit of spin at his abrupt change in mood. Why doesn’t he want to sleep with me? one voice whimpered far in the back of her head. She ignored it. The others were all just disappointed that she hadn’t gotten to truly play the virtuous young heroine to his evil seduction.

“Two.”

“One fifty.”

“Plus the chair.”

“Done.”

He gave her a lazy smile. “Well then, partner, what do we do first?”

Buffy slipped back into bed feeling much relieved. Willow was deeply asleep in the bed across from her, and Buffy had made extra sure to come in as quietly as possible. Luckily, Willow hadn’t stirred even once; Buffy wasn’t quite sure what excuse she could come up with for what she had been doing.

I was out with Riley, her mind prepared for the question in the morning. Except then she finds out from Riley that I wasn’t with him last night…

I was out with another man, she tried just for the fun of it. Not Riley. He was fun and exiting and sexy. And if you like Riley so much, why don’t you date him? So, ha!

That one was fun, but it would never work. The logistics involved with making up an imaginary ‘date’ were just too complicated. Her friends would pounce on her instantly for all sorts of details she couldn’t provide, and then they’d want to meet him…

I was out with Spike. We made deep, passionate love for hours on end. Truly, he is the God of Orgasms!

OK, now she was just getting loopy. And ‘the God of Orgasms’? She must have been hanging around Anya way too much lately. Not to mention the fact that she didn’t think she could get through such an outrageous lie without breaking out into hysterical laughter. Still, if she could pull it off, it might be worth the shock value…

I had to grab the book I’d put on hold at the library before someone else grabbed it. Then I ran into some people I met during orientation.

Ah, the perfect lie! Vague, plausible, and completely unable to be disproved… If not as fun as most of the others.

Buffy lay back into what she hoped would be a relaxing night’s sleep. She needed to have her head clear for their plan tomorrow. It would work; she knew it would. A little twinge of guilt settled deep in her stomach, but she pushed it aside with greater ease this time. For some reason, the more she took charge of this situation, the less the spell-alternate-universe-of-whatever influenced her. That, if nothing else, was reassuring. And she did indeed drift off into relaxing sleep…if not the kind she anticipated…
 

“Buffy, my little snuggle bunny!” Riley exclaimed with joy, enveloping her in a massive bear hug.

“Mmf! Riley!” she protested against his chest, squirming as best she could. “You’re smothering me!”

He didn’t seem to hear her, but instead kept up with the irritating baby talk. “I wuv you, you know that, my Buffy-wuffy.”

She finally managed to push free of him. “Stop treating me like a child!” she screamed. “I’m not stupid!”

“Of course, you’re not, Buffy,” Willow soothed, coming up behind her. “You’re just not really the take-charge type, you know? Here,” she added brightly, pulling one of the famous extra-large chocolate and macadamia nut cookies from behind her back, “have a cookie, and forget all about it.”

“But I can’t forget about it, Will,” she insisted, pleading with her best friend. “There’s something wrong. I have to fix it, make it right again.”

“Ooh, Jonathan!” Willow exclaimed in delight, obviously missing Buffy’s last statement. She ran over to where a crowd of photographers had surrounded the young star.

“Riley?” Buffy turned to him desperately.

“My hero,” Riley sighed and ran the way Willow had.

“You guys have to listen to me!” Buffy exclaimed, trying to pull them away from the edge of the circle.

“Of course, we’ll listen to you,” Giles suddenly emerged from the crowd surrounding Jonathan. “Just read from here.” He handed her a book.

She flipped it open to the title page and saw that it read ‘Oh, Jonathan!’ “This isn’t the right book,” she protested.

“Sure it is, Buff,” Xander said with a wide grin, his arm around Anya.

“Please, read it to us,” the ex-vengeance demon smiled at her enthusiastically.

“I-I can’t,” Buffy stammered, backing away from the circle of her friends and finding herself backed up against the circle of reporters.

“Just read, sweetie,” Riley said with an encouraging smile, “and we can be together again.” He held his hand out to her.

Buffy turned and ran, shoving her way through the crowd of photographers frantically. For every one she slipped past, it seemed another two took his place. “Just read it,” she heard the familiar voices drift to her as she pushed her way through the endless throng of bodies that surrounded her on all sides.

“I can’t!” she screamed. “I can’t stop! It’s not right!”

And then, with a final burst of speed, she cleared the crowd.

“Hey there, Buffy,” Jonathan casually turned to her, several more cameras taking pictures of him as he did so. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

She looked at him and blinked when she saw two different Jonathans superimposed on top of each other. The one wore the ultra-hip Matrix Playboy clothes with the sunglasses, and the other looked…nerdy? He was dressed almost as if he had been cursed with Xander’s hand-me-downs.

Both Jonathans held a leash, though. At first whatever was at the end of the leash was blocked from her view. She began to circle round to try to see it.

“You don’t need to do this,” Jonathan informed her. “There’s nothing to see here.”

“I think there is,” she replied.

The beast at the end of the leash stepped forward, and she saw the monster she’d heard so often described, familiar symbol on its face and all.

“Why is it here?” Buffy asked in confusion.

“We’re chained together,” Jonathan explained, holding the leash before him.

As Buffy watched, it transformed into a set of handcuffs. She slowly backed away, the sight filling her with an indescribable horror…and backed right into the podium on which Jonathan had been speaking.

Buffy looked down at his notes. “It’s your book,” she commented, lifting up yet another copy of ‘Oh, Jonathan!’

“Read from it,” he requested.

“But there’s another book beneath it,” Buffy protested, picking up the second book in her other hand. It contained the triangular symbol on its cover.

“That’s not the right book!” Giles exclaimed, suddenly beside her.

She quickly backed away from him.

“Buffy, that book is dangerous,” Riley was on the other side of her. He attempted to grab it from her.

She twisted aside and ran right into Xander and Anya.

“This is getting old,” Anya whined. “Xander, make her stop!”

“Give me the book, Buffy,” Xander extended his hand to her.

She turned again, this time to face Willow, a bleeding Tara crying in her arms.

“Put down the book, Buffy,” Willow said sternly.

“But he did this to Tara!” Buffy protested.

Tara stopped crying for a second to look at Buffy as well. “Put down the book,” she said in an eerie, dazed voice.

Buffy spun again, this time to face Jonathan and the monster.

“Give it to me,” he ordered her. “You can have this book instead.” He held up yet another copy of ‘Oh, Jonathan!’

“No!” Buffy screamed, spinning around and around to see that her friends had her surrounded on all sides. The lights of the cameras flashing blinded her, only allowing her glimpses of the circle of people closing in around her, all illuminated by a stark, white glow. She spun and spun until she felt as if she would fall over from the dizziness.

And then she saw it.

One patch of black amid the white crowd. Blindly, she reached out to it and felt another hand grasp hers.

“Lookin’ for me, pet?” Spike drawled with that infuriating smirk on his face, the black of his clothes standing out even against the lights of the cameras.

“I need to get away,” she pleaded. “I have this.” She showed him the book.

“Here,” he said, lifting up his arm and holding his black duster out like a cloak. “You can hide under here.”

Without hesitation she dove into the blackness. For a second, it surrounded her, dark and terrifying. And then she saw Spike, the only white in this new land of dark. He stood with his back to her but slowly turned around as she approached.

“Why are you naked?” she asked curiously, taking the time to give him a good, long look up and down. She felt her mouth go dry.

“How else would you expect me to be under my clothes?” he countered, his own eyes raking hungrily over her body.

She looked down at herself as well, blushing when she realized she wasn’t wearing anything, either. “Why am I naked?!” she demanded angrily, looking back up at him.

“Well now, tha’s only fair, Slayer,” he said with a lascivious grin. “Have to keep things equal after all.”

She nodded.

“Dance?” he extended one hand to her.

She bit her lip. “We’ve never danced before,” she said, concerned. “I won’t know the steps.”

“Haven’t we?” He raised his scarred eyebrow. “C’mon, you know the moves…”

Slowly, she took his hand and soon found herself wrapped firmly in his arms, her breasts pressed flush up against his chest. Her feet moved in perfect time with his, instinctively knowing the steps.

“Mmm,” she murmured contentedly, letting her head rest against his shoulder. “We’ve done this before.”

“’S we’ve ever done,” he agreed, his lips barely brushing her ear.

“Spike…” She turned to look at him, eyes wide.

“Buffy,” he whispered, just before his lips met hers.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself to become completely absorbed in his kiss. She savored the soft curves of his lips, the gentle force of his tongue, and the coolness of his breath as it played across her lips…

She pulled back and saw that he was smiling – not smirking, smiling.

“Do you know what they say about dancing?” he asked, his accent sounding strangely more upper class than usual.

“What?” she wondered.

She felt something brush against the back of her knees, and by the time she realized it was the edge of a mattress, he’d already laid her back on it and himself on top of her.

“A vertical representation of horizontal desires,” he whispered before his lips came down upon hers once again.
 

Needless to say, this was the relaxing part of the dream…

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