The Dream

“Buffy! Buffy, it’s time to wake up! Time for school!”

Buffy woke with a start at her mother’s call. Shouldn’t it be Willow waking her? Or her alarm clock? “School?” she murmured wearily, throwing back the covers and yawning as she trailed slowly to the bathroom. Halfway there she stopped. Why was she at home? Why wasn’t she in halls, like she had been when she went to bed last night?                                                                  

She dressed quickly and then ran downstairs into the kitchen where she found her mother drinking her obligatory cup of coffee. “Good morning sunshine,” her mom greeted her brightly as she entered. “Ready for school?”

Buffy looked up at her mother, her forehead creased in confusion. “Mom, why am I here? Last night I was at college. What’s going on?”

Joyce smiled again, “It sounds like you had a dream, honey. Thankfully for me, college is still a couple of years away.” She quickly finished he rest of her coffee. “Eat up and I’ll give you a lift to school.”

Buffy stared at her mother, “Mom, this isn’t funny anymore. I graduated high school!”

“No Buffy it isn’t funny anymore,” Joyce agreed stopping in the doorway. “You’ve had a bad dream. Maybe if you talk it over with your friends, you’ll realise where fantasy ends and reality begins. For now you’re Buffy Summers and you’re a junior in high-school.”

Buffy stood stock still for a moment before nodding quickly at her mother. This was all too strange. She had to talk to Giles.

****

“Giles!” Buffy shouted as she pushed open the door to library. The English librarian stepped out from behind the bookcases on the upper level of the library and frowned at Buffy. “Giles, something seriously wiggy is goin’ on.”

“Can I help you? It’s a little early for students to be here isn’t it?” he asked as she ran up to him.

“Giles, it’s me,” Buffy looked, confused at her Watcher.

“It’s Mr. Giles. And I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in here before,” he said, the expression on his face telling her he thought she was crazy.

“Giles, I practically lived here. You know…” she coaxed, “Before we blew it up.” Even to her own ears that sounded quite unbelievable. “How can it still be here if we blew it up?”

“I’m sure I have no idea,” Giles replied, moving around her to his office.

“Giles, please, I have a problem. I woke up this morning and my mom told me I was a junior in high school. But I graduated high school in an unbelievably violent way, this year. Buffy Summers, Class of 1999.”

“Miss Summers,” Giles turned at the sound of her confused and upset voice, “I’m sure that your dream seemed very real, but it’s November 1997. You probably just need a little more…”

“What year?” Buffy interrupted.

“1997,” Giles told her softly.

“This is a dream,” Buffy said through clenched teeth. “It has to be a dream.” She pinched her arm, hoping that she’d wake up back in bed, and her life would be normal again. Nothing happened.

“I need to find Willow.”

****

“Willow!”

“Hey Buffy,” Willow greeted as the Slayer ran up into the lounge area where Willow was sitting. “What’s wrong? You look upset.”

“Willow, what are we doing here? Why aren’t we at college?” Buffy asked agitatedly as she sat down next to her best friend.

“College? Buffy we’re not going to college for another couple of years. Why would you..?”

“You don’t remember either,” Buffy stated frantically, interrupting Willow. “Oh God! Willow, I don’t know what’s going on. Yesterday we were in college. Now we’re back here, and no one… Giles doesn’t know me, it’s junior year…”

“Buffy calm down,” Willow said, anxious for her friend at her strange behaviour. “Did you dream about us going to college? Has it upset you? Was it bad?”

“No… Will…  It wasn’t a dream, ok. It was real. I’ve done this. I lived my junior year, and my senior year. I graduated. We went to the University of Sunnydale. We’re sharing a dorm room for heaven’s sake! But this morning…” Everything was starting to blur inside Buffy’s head. She remembered the previous life perfectly and none of this one. This couldn’t be real. Something had to be wrong.

“Morning ladies.” Xander’s greeting broke Buffy out of her reverie and brought her back to the present. She smiled across at her friend and glanced behind him at the man following him up the stairs. “Angel!” she exclaimed as her former boyfriend approached.

“Buffy,” he greeted with as smile as Willow moved along on the couch, allowing him to sit next to Buffy. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and bent his head to kiss her cheek. Angel was here. Angel was human. That was impossible. “Buffy? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

“A vampire actually,” she clarified, as she tried to force her way through the fog in her head.

“Buffy had a bad dream last night,” Willow told Angel and Xander, “At least I assume it was bad.” Willow said raising her eyebrows in question at her best friend. 

“Sometimes,” Buffy murmured, “But sometimes it was great.”

Willow smiled brightly at her, “So it was a dream.”

“No I…” Buffy got no further as the bell rang for first period. Willow, Xander and Angel stood and Buffy gave her best friend a frantic look. “What do we have now?”

“You have English. We have Chemistry,” Willow said frowning in concern at Buffy, as Xander groaned. “None of that Alexander Harris,” she scolded gently as she turned her attention to Xander, pulling him by the arm down the corridor. Xander shot a distressed look back at Buffy and Angel, and mouthed, “Help Me!”

Angel chuckled and Buffy looked up at him shocked. Angel never laughed.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” he asked at the expression on her face.

“I don’t know, I… Where am I? For English I mean.”

“127,” Angel told her before Xander shouted for him down the corridor. “Gotta run,” he added, kissing her cheek once more and hurrying to catch up with Willow and Xander.

Buffy shook her head, feeling more lost and alone than she had in a long time. She adjusted the bag on her shoulder and made her way in the opposite direction to her friends, to her English class. Hopefully by the time the lesson had ended, she’d have thought of a way to get things back to normal.

****

She waited until everyone had entered before entering herself, that way making sure that she had the right seat. There were two empty desks next to each other on the far side of the room. She guessed that she’d be most likely to sit next to the window instead of in the centre of the room and sat down. She took her pen and paper from her bag and bent to put it under her desk. When she sat back up, she turned towards the desk next to her and met a pair of sparkling blue eyes.

“Spike!” she yelped, and the students closest to her turned to stare at her.

Spike frowned. “You ok, Buffy?” he asked, his voice filled with concern. She nodded and looked back down at her desk. Spike. How could he be here? Sitting next to her!

“Buffy,” he whispered urgently as the lesson began and she continued to stare blankly at her desk, “Buffy!”

She looked across at him; her head still lowered and noticed he was trying to pass her a piece of paper. She frowned at him, but reached quickly across and took the note. The blonde Englishman then turned his attention immediately back to the teacher and Buffy unfolded the note.

What’s wrong?

Nothing, she wrote underneath and quickly passed it back.

Spike looked at the message and then at her. His face wore his patented, I-don’t-believe-you-you’re such-a-bad-liar look and he rolled his eyes.

Tell me.

No.

Buffy!

It’s nothing.

It’s not nothing. Now tell me what’s wrong!

It’s got nothing to do with you!!!!!

Who has it got to do with then? Are you ill?

No! No one. Leave me alone.

No! It has to be serious if you won’t tell me. You tell me everything!

Since when?

Since always! That’s what best friends do remember? I thought we had that conversation. Now, you’re going to tell me what’s wrong Buffy Summers, or I’ll set Dru on you!

Buffy looked up and stared across at Spike. Best friends? They were best friends? Somehow that didn’t shock her as much as it should have done. And if he was her friend, he’d be able to help her.

I had a dream. Or maybe this is a dream. I’m confused. No one remembers, just me, so it looks like I remember two years of my life that never happened and I’ve forgotten everything that was real before. And everything’s different here. And my head’s spinning.

Spike read the note through twice and then looked across at her. “Everything’s going to be alright. I promise,” he mouthed, writing it down so that she couldn’t mistake what he had said. She smiled weakly at the note and his words, about to reply with Thank you, when the bell signalled the end of class.

****

As soon as they were outside Spike turned Buffy to face him. “Tell me about your dream.”

Buffy sighed and looked up at him. Somehow it seemed right to talk to him, to tell him everything. She trusted him, trusted that he’d help her.

“Ok,” she began slowly, as they started walking along the corridor. She explained everything that had happened since she had moved to Sunnydale, covering her relationship’s with Angel and Spike himself, detailing what had happened with the mayor and Faith. She glanced up at Spike every now and then, and saw that he was looking at her a little oddly, but he gestured for her to continue, not commenting, just listening. She finished with what had happened yesterday, her fight with Spike at college and sending the Gem of Amarra to Angel with Oz.

They moved outside into the courtyard and sat down on the edge of the fountain. “Buffy,” Spike said when she’d finished, “You keep saying you’re the Slayer. What’s a Slayer?” Spike asked patiently.

“A Vampire Slayer. They kill vampires. The Chosen One. One girl in all the world who can stop them.”

”Vampires?”

“Yes.”

“You fight them?”

“Yes. Well I mean I did. No I do. You see how this is confusing.”

“Definitely. And I was a vampire?” He started to grin delightedly, “Was I strong, tough, really mean?”

Buffy giggled at his expression, “You were very tough and really mean.” Spike chuckled. “Well, until I dropped that church organ on you,” Buffy finished, wrinkling her brow, “then you were quite helpless.”

Spike twisted his face at her, “But you didn’t you kill me?”

“No. No I never did. I don’t know why. Anyway, without you I probably wouldn’t have been able to defeat Angelus,” Buffy further explained.

“Angelus?”

“Angel. I mentioned he lost his soul…”

“Do you want to run that by me again?”

“Oh. Angel was a vampire with a soul. We were dating and we slept together, but when he had a moment’s perfect happiness, he lost his soul and became the evil Angelus again. He was your Sire actually. And Dru’s too.”

“I’m still trying to imagine Dru as a vampire!” Spike exclaimed and then started to laugh hysterically.

“Spike can you stop laughing please? I need you to help me fix things.”

Spike reached over and took her hand as he saw the pain in her eyes. She smiled and him, leaving her hand in his, feeling safe and protected. “Yesterday we had this big fight and I sent a ring of invincibility to my ex-boyfriend. Today, I was supposed to wake up in halls in a room I share with Willow, and carry on with classes and saving the world. Not necessarily in that order. But now I’m back in junior year and I have no idea what’s going on.” She burst into tears and Spike pulled her gently into his arms, allowing her to cry on his chest.

“Look Buffy, it sounds like a weird nightmare to me, but if you think that… well I’ll help you with anything you want. You know that,” he soothed, rubbing a hand gently over her hair.

She sniffed a couple times and dried her eyes. “Thank you,” she said, standing. “Can we find everyone and find out a way to put this right?” He nodded and took her hand as they walked back towards the school.

****

“Drusilla!” Buffy exclaimed as she and Spike approached the small group assembled in the student lounge. She heard Spike chuckle next to her at her startled cry, but her eyes remained trained on the young brunette sitting next to Cordelia on the couch. The two girls glanced across at Buffy, puzzled expressions crossing their pretty faces. ‘No, not puzzled,’ Buffy silently clarified, ‘Annoyed.’

Spike kissed Dru’s forehead as he sat down next to her. She smiled faintly and raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s going on?”

Spike cleared his throat and shared a half-smile with his best friend. “I think Buffy should be the one to tell it. I’m not sure I could do it justice.” The seven friends immediately turned their attention to the small blonde Slayer, who wished she hadn’t bothered going to bed the previous night.

She told her friends everything she had told Spike earlier. This time however she had to keep stopping to answer questions, and caught more than one disbelieving glance being shared between the six others who hadn’t heard it before. When she finished everyone was silent.

Finally Drusilla turned to her boyfriend and asked, “So she’s flipped. Why am I here?”

Spike scowled at her, willing her to be more helpful. “Because Buffy’s our friend, and she needs our help.”

Drusilla gave Spike a patronising glance. “Our? She’s your friend. I’m your girlfriend. Buffy and I have nothing in common.” Dru reminded her boyfriend, glancing at Buffy with a withering look. “If you want to help her with her bizarre fantasies, that’s fine. I’m going.” She turned to Cordelia and raised her eyebrows in question.

“I’m with you,” the other girl said, grabbing her bag and jumping up from beside Xander.

“Where are you going?” he asked irritated as she followed Drusilla down the stairs.

“Away from loser central before I catch whatever it is she’s got,” Cordelia answered cuttingly, nodding towards Buffy. “Call me when Miss Perfect’s done having an emotional crisis.”

Tears filled Buffy’s eyes as the two girls walked away, laughing. Angel noticed that she was about to cry and put his arm around her shoulders to comfort her. She moved away, missing the comforting feel of her hand in Spike’s. “Do you believe me?” she asked her friends, looking hopefully round at them.

Xander and Angel twisted their faces in disbelief, while Willow looked worriedly at her friend. Oz’s only concession to an answer was the slight widening of his eyes, which made Buffy feel worse than ever. If she could tell Oz thought she was nuts, she must really be losing it. Spike showed the most support reaching across the table and stroking the back of her hand. “It’ll be alright Buffy.”

She jumped up then, annoyed and frustrated that she couldn’t get through to them; that she was there at all. “How? How will it be ok? I don’t remember anything! You all think I’m crazy… I don’t know what to do, and…” She started to cry in earnest, and ran from the lounge, out the school, and across the campus. When she reached the shade of the trees she collapsed to the ground, crying.

****

“B?” a familiar voice called. “Hey B, what’s up?”

Buffy looked over her shoulder to find Faith standing before her in a pair of tight black jeans, a black crop top and a denim jacket. Her dark hair was hanging loose around her face and she stood with her legs slightly apart, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

“Faith?” Buffy exclaimed, unable to believe her eyes. Faith, her Faith, was in a coma.

“The one and only girlfriend. Someone done somethin’ to upset you? Not that guy of yours right? Men! I’d like to…”

“Angel? No, no, not Angel. I mean no one’s done anything, I just… I’m having a bad day.”

“I hear ya. You know what’ll make it all better? We go out tonight and get all wild and crazy down at the Bronze, get ourselves a couple of hot young studs and…”

“NO! Please, this is the most disturbing conversation I’ve had today. Even more disturbing than Spike!”

“Speaking of hot young studs,” Faith interrupted with a wicked, leering smile.

“Ew, Faith enough. I do not want to have to hear the words Spike and hot, young stud, in the same conversation ever again,” Buffy stopped the other Slayer, with the frantic flapping of her hands.

Faith was ginning wildly. “Come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it. You and Spike getting down and dirty and…”

Buffy shrieked, her eyes wide, and ran quickly across the lawn into the main courtyard, leaving Faith laughing under the trees. Her main concern was the fact that she could easily picture her and Spike doing… well doing things she had no right to be doing with anyone. “Concentrate on getting things back to normal,” she muttered to herself, as she stalked angrily inside, “Not on sexy English vampires.” She stopped suddenly at the thought. When had she begun to think of Spike as sexy? She rubbed her hands over her face. Maybe she was losing it.

****

“Buffy, wait!”

She stopped in the middle of the corridor and turned to see Willow running towards her. The redhead grasped Buffy’s hand when she reached her, and Buffy saw the worried look on her face. “Buffy are you ok?”

“I… No. I don’t know what’s going on and you guys are treating me like I’m crazy. I might sound crazy, but I’m not Will. This is all wrong. It feels wrong.” Buffy moved agitatedly on the spot.

“Well, I’ve been talking to Spike, and he thinks, we think, that we should do whatever we can to help you. Just say the word,” Willow assured her friend.

“Thanks,” Buffy smiled slightly, thinking how odd it was that Spike was willing to help her. Why had her mind chosen him as her friend? Or her enemy if the other situation was the dream? “We should probably do some research, which usually means Giles, but he doesn’t know me here. We’ll just have to get by without him I suppose. Willow!” she exclaimed, a thought suddenly coming to her. “You can use computers right, and the Internet?” Willow nodded. “Great. Well if you can search for dreams, with any connections to magic or mysterious phenomena, and Spike and I’ll stick to the books.”

****

Buffy, Spike, Angel and Xander sat in the library that evening, surrounded by books on dreams. They didn’t know exactly what they were looking for and Buffy was becoming frustrated. Willow was sitting at the opposite end of the table using the computer to gather as much information as she could, but so far nothing had proved useful. Giles stood by the book card catalogue, throwing irritated glances at the group every so often.

Xander threw the book he was reading down on the table causing everyone to jump. “I’m bored. There is absolutely nothing. Oh wait, we don’t know whether there’s anything or not because we don’t know what we’re looking for. This whole thing is one big waste of time.”

Buffy winced and Willow and Spike shot Xander angry looks. “Xander,” Willow said warningly, her face showing her friend she wasn’t happy.

“No, Xander’s right. It’s ridiculous,” Angel chipped in, standing and walking around the table to kneel down in front of Buffy. “You know I love you. But this isn’t a dream. I’m sorry you’re having a bad day but nothing’s going to change this. It’s the way it is, the way it’s always been.” He kissed her gently on the lips and she jerked her head away. He stared angrily up at her for a few seconds before rising and walking quickly from the library.

Willow shot Xander a beseeching look across the table and he rose swiftly and followed Angel. She caught Spike’s gaze and he shook his head, indicating that she should carry on with what she was doing. Willow turned her attention back to the computer and Spike pulled Buffy’s chair around to face his. “Buffy? Are you ok?”

She nodded shakily, rubbing her eyes to stop the tears that were threatening. “I’m fine,” she assured him. He twisted his face, clearly not believing her and raised his hands to cup her face.

“No matter what happens, I’m here.”

“I know,” she said, trusting instinctively that he would be there for her, that he would help her. “Have you found anything?” He shook his head and turned back to the books in front of him.

****

They worked steadily for another hour before Willow exclaimed excitedly, “Buffy, come look. I think I found something.” Buffy and Spike jumped up and moved to stand behind Willow. The redhead read from the article on the screen before her. “‘In one view, dreams have no inherent meaning. They are simply a process by which the brain integrates new information into memories. In the other view, dreams contain real meaning symbolized in a picture language, distinct from conscious logical thought.’”

She stopped and looked over her shoulder at her friend who was leaning in closely to view the screen. “And here further down,” she said turning back, “’Unacceptable impulses and thoughts are transformed into a conscious, although no longer immediately comprehensible, experience called the manifest dream.’ Buffy I think that, if you’re right and this is a dream, then it’s being caused by something in your real life that’s been eating at your subconscious. If you face the truth of your dream, you should be able to wake up.”

Buffy smiled at little, glad that she had found a way to reverse the dream. “So I just have to find out what it is I’ve been unwilling to face in reality and face up to it, and then I’ll go home?” Willow nodded. “Great,” Buffy said sarcastically. “How am I supposed to find something, when I don’t know what I’m looking for?” She paused for a second as Willow continued to read, “Does it say anything else?”

“Well, it says ‘Contact with the supernatural is usually sought through a psychic medium, a person supposedly endowed with supernormal receptivity. In direct divination, the medium acquires knowledge through direct contact with the unknown. Oracles employed various techniques in establishing contact with divinity. Some practiced oneiromancy, or divination by dreams, and necromancy, the art of conjuring up revelations from the souls of the dead.’” Willow finished and then looked back at her friend. Buffy was frowning, trying to work out what all of this meant when put together, promising herself that she would thank Giles for everything he did for her when she got back. She noticed that Spike was staring at her intently and raised her eyebrows in silent question.

“Buffy you said you were…the Slayer, right? Well couldn’t that give you a ‘supernormal receptivity’ to Oracles?”

Buffy nodded slightly and then sat down next to Willow. Spike perched on the edge of the table, facing the two girls. “So lets see if we can get this straight,” she said trying to get everything sorted out logically in her head. “There’s something in my real life that’s been bothering me, but my conscious mind wouldn’t let me think about it. And now it’s gotten so bad or so important that the Oracles are trying to make me face it?”

Willow nodded excitedly at her friend, “It makes sense Buffy. In a not-making-sense kind of way, to those of us who don’t know what your other reality is like.”

“So all I have to do is figure out what all this means and I’ll wake up. How? Where do I start?”

“What’s the strangest thing you’ve noticed since you woke up this morning?” Spike asked.

“Well I’m back in high-school, instead of college,” Buffy offered. “I don’t understand why I’d be here.”

 “Maybe that’s just the integrating new information into memory part of the dream,” Willow suggested.

“Yeah, but why Junior year? And why are you here?” Buffy mused turning to Spike. “You’re a vampire, my mortal enemy; why are you my best friend? Yesterday we were beating the crap out of each other, but now I’m dreaming that…” She trailed off, her eyes widening as she looked at Spike. “You. You’re the strangest thing here.”

Spike started to laugh, “So that means whatever you have to face, involves me. Or your Spike at any rate. Would that make sense?”

“I guess,” Buffy agreed. She had just opened her mouth to continue when Giles appeared beside them at the table. “Look, I’m afraid that the library is closed now, so you’ll have to finish off tomorrow.”

The three teenagers jumped up and collected their bags and books quickly, before exiting the library.

****

Spike and Buffy walked back to Buffy’s house in silence. The Slayer was running the events of the day over in her head, trying to latch onto something that she might be unwilling to face in real life. Her thoughts kept turning inevitably back to the man walking next to her.

Yesterday in one of the quieter parts of the UC Sunnydale campus, she had fought this man, vampire, in broad daylight, thanks to some ring or other, and he’d almost won too. If he hadn’t really pissed her off with that comment about Angel, she’d probably have been dead. Yet here she was strolling happily through her subconscious with him, allowing him the label of best friend. And she really couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was about him she had to face.

They entered the house and went straight through into the kitchen. Spike fetched some soda from the fridge, while Buffy put some popcorn into the microwave. They waited in a comfortable silence and then took their food and drink upstairs to the Slayer’s bedroom. Spike removed his duster and boots, sat down in Buffy’s wicker chair and perched his feet on her bed. Buffy grabbed some comfortable clothes from her chest of drawers and went into the bathroom to change. When she re-entered the room she sat down on her bed, grabbed the bowl of popcorn from Spike and grinned widely at his exasperated look. When he grinned back she realised what was wrong.

****

“Buffy are you alright?” Spike said jumping up as she started to choke on the popcorn. He patted her back but she pushed him away, her coughing fit allowing her a little time to come to terms with her new realisation. There was no way, no way at all that it could be true. No way!

As she calmed down, she looked up at Spike who was standing over her, a look of concern on his face. She smiled weakly, “I’m fine,” she tried to reassure him, and he frowned. “No, really, I’m fine,” she repeated more forcefully and he sat back down. “Look Spike, I, uh, I don’t know much about you, even in the real world, so you tell me what I’ve invented for you. Like uh, how long have you and Drusilla been together?”

“’Bout two years. Since I got here. We met at the Bronze and hit it off straight away, being the only two English people in the place and all,” Spike said relaxing back in the chair, as Buffy seemed to calm. “She’s um… Well Dru and me… it’s complicated. I mean I care about her, I just don’t think she cares about me the same way.” He had closed his eyes and Buffy allowed herself to gaze at the planes of his face as it relaxed, his beautiful cheekbones, which were swept by long eye-lashes.

He opened his eyes suddenly and her gaze was caught in his. She blushed furiously but was unable to look away. “I mean,” he continued hesitantly, “I don’t think she gets me like you get me, you know. You and I have long conversations about something or nothing, we laugh, we fight, and we dance. With Dru it’s like, argue, kiss, shag, argue. No conversations, no meaningful… well anything really. I want it to be more like it is with you. Just with the extra stuff.”

Buffy’s eyes were wide as she looked at him, as she listened to what he was saying. Before she knew what she was doing she’d started to speak, saying the words her conscious mind had always held her back from saying. “Maybe we should change our relationship instead.” 

Spike stared back at her, his mouth slightly open as if he wanted to reply but had no idea what to say, or how to say it. Buffy looked away, her mind frantically searching for a way to take it back, to laugh it off. But there was no way. Whatever there was between them was out there now; she couldn’t take it back. She had acknowledged the difficulty and now there was no way to suppress what had been preying on her subconscious for the last two years.

“Buffy?” Spike asked, his voice low, filled with an emotion she couldn’t name. She nodded and turned back to him, but couldn’t raise her eyes to his. He bent forward and caught her chin, gently easing her face up so that she was looking at him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, before his mouth descended on hers.

Buffy responded instinctually, kissing him back with a passion she had never felt before, not even with Angel. She opened her mouth to allow his probing tongue entry and mewled with pleasure as sensation coursed through her. No one had ever kissed her like this; no one else had ever seemed to know that this side of her lay dormant just waiting to for the right opportunity to be unleashed.

Spike plundered her mouth, relishing in her murmurs of pleasure, the way she innocently moved against him and allowed him access, not knowing exactly what she was doing, merely knowing that it was right. He pulled back gently and looked down at her, the corners of his mouth turning up in a slight smile when she whimpered at the loss of his touch. Her eyes were closed, her skin was flushed and her lips were parted as she panted for air. “Is this what you’ve been unwilling to face?” he asked, his voice rough with passion. She nodded once and he crushed his lips back down on hers.