Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Notes: First posted on Elysian Fields September 4th 2014 as a response to a challenge.

I have died every day waiting for you

Darling, don't be afraid

I have loved you for a thousand years

I'll love you for a thousand more

~ Christina Perri, A Thousand Years

I am Boudicca, the Vampire Slayer. And I wish to die a warrior's death.

It was Drest who decided that I am to marry Cynbel. Drest; my Watcher. The one who is supposed to guide me throughout my quest to rid this land of the creatures who roam the night. He told me that Slayers must always be alone, for that is how it is and that is how it should always be.

He feels that if I marry and bear children, any daughters I may have will be Potential Slayers, something he claims this land sorely needs. There are others out there, he says, but they are difficult to find in a land where the clans are spread far and wide. If I bear children, he says, they can start their training young, as I did.

But it does not feel right. I understand his intentions, but the thought of marrying Cynbel gives me an illness in my stomach. I am a Slayer, and I am strong. Cynbel does not make me feel strong; he makes me feel weak, and thinks I should only depend on him.

So in my confusion I venture across the land to see Feidlimid, a witch who resides in the high hills. She already knows why I have come when I reach her, and already has an answer for me.

"All Slayers have a Gift," she tells me. "What is it you most desire?"

I know my answer. "Death. I do not wish to marry Cynbel. I would rather die."

"Death is the Gift of the Slayer; the final look of peace as they escape the world that always fights against them," she said. "Go to the cave that lies beneath the valley, and there you will find the Slayer's Gift."

I nod to her, but as I turn to leave she speaks again. "You are no ordinary Slayer, Boudicca. You love with all your heart; it shines brighter than the sun. Your Gift is different, and in two thousand years, you will find it."

"I will not live for that long," I say.

"Not in this form," says Feidlimid. "Twelve times you will meet the Gift of the Slayer, and twelve times you will return. The thirteenth try will be the hardest, in a time when one has become two. But by then you would have learnt what a Slayer needs to survive, and your true Gift shall prevail."

I nod again, and when I turn to leave this time, she does not stop me. I do not understand her words, but Feidlimid is wise, and I do as she says.

When I reach the cave beneath the valley, the sense of danger overwhelms me. There is a vampire in the cave. At first I debate turning back, but then I remember Feidlimid's words, and I step inside. If I am to die, then it should be by a vampire's hand.

I see him when the cave is dark, but not dark enough for me to be blinded. It is almost as if he is waiting for me. He does not leap at me in a blind urge to tear me apart, as the many vampires had done before. Instead he waits for me to make the first move.

Only when I am closer do I recognize him. Brennus; a vampire well known to this land. He always stays in the shadows and lets no one see him.

No one but me, that is. I have seen him twice before, always at a distance, always watching me. Drest informed me that I should never attempt to engage him, because he is dangerous and I would not survive. I never understood why he would want me to stay away, for it is my duty to kill all vampires no matter how dangerous they are.

I understood when he told me I was to marry Cynbel.

I look into the yellow eyes of the killer and stand my ground. I will not show him any fear. Death is the Gift of a Slayer, and all Gifts must be accepted.

So I sit down before him and tell him, "Do it."

When he reaches me, I expect him to sink his fangs into my neck. And he does.

Only after an experience of pure bliss.

Drest lied to me. He claimed that vampires are nothing more than animals; soulless monsters who cannot feel a single measurement of emotion and will kill everything in their path without a hint of regret. But it must be a lie.

Brennus can love, and he loves me. "Mine," he claims, as his fangs slide gently into the point between my shoulder and neck.

"Yours," I say, and within me I feel something falling into place; a part of me I never knew was empty.

He only takes a few sips of my blood before he cuts his lip on his fang. I somehow know what to do, and take his lips in mine. The blood runs down my throat, and across my vision I see all that we can be together.

I see us in the future, looking different every time, but always meeting and always claiming and always making love to one another… Then the bliss reaches its peak and it's the most wonderful thing in the world.

We sleep tangled in each other, as if our bodies are one. In my happiness I do not acknowledge the approaching footsteps. By the time I awaken, it is already too late.

Cynbel is first to act, and drives a stake through the heart of my lover. I cry out in pain as Brennus turns to dust, and his sudden loss hits me with unbearable agony. It unleashes something within me, and I find myself taking Cynbel's head between my hands before I twist with all my strength. His neck snaps.

Then there is an arrow in my heart. I turn to see Drest with the bow before I fall and know no more.

I jolt awake from the pain that felt all too real to be a dream.

Slayer dream. I rub the back of my neck, which has become stiff from all the tossing and turning I did in my sleep. Then I grab the notebook and pen on my bedside table and begin to write it all down, while the dream is still fresh in my mind.

When I reach the end, I freeze. The vampire's face was clear as day, and it's something I really want to forget.

Why do I only remember his face? I can't remember the faces of the man and the Watcher. I can remember the face of the witch, but I don't recognize her from anywhere. I want it to be a normal dream instead of a Slayer dream.

Because if it is it would make sense, since I was kissing the vampire two days ago.

"Buffy? Are you up?"

I look around my room, only just remembering that it's the weekend and I'd decided to go home and see Mom and Dawn. "Yeah, I'm up. Can't stay, though. I need to see Giles."

I shower and dress quickly in my desperation to get this thing sorted. After what happened, the very thought of the spell having after effects was enough to wig me out. I hope either Willow or Giles can fix this.

The thought of falling in love with him… I shudder. It's disgusting.

And it's scary, because I can still feel the love she – Boudicca – felt for him in my dream. And I never knew erotic Slayer dreams were a thing…

I shudder again. I can't be thinking about that. Not now, not ever.

I call Giles in advance to tell him I'm coming, before calling the others, too. By the time I arrive, Willow and Xander are already there. Xander even brought doughnuts, most likely having anticipated a research session. He also brought Anya. I try not to look annoyed; she and Xander have a good thing going, and I know I need to be supportive.

"So what's up, Buff?" asks Xander.

"Slayer dream." I turn to Giles. "At least, I think it is. It felt so real that I can't imagine it being anything else. But…"

Giles sat up curiously. "But what, Buffy?"

"I don't want it to be, because…"

But before I can continue, he walks into the room. In my panic to get to the bottom of the dream, I completely forgot that Spike is staying with Giles.

His mouth is open to say something – probably complain about the lack of blood, our treatment of him, or something completely random – but then he sees me, and his mouth closes again. He stares at me and I stare back, and suddenly I realize why.

He had the same dream.

We both cross the room in the same instant, and as if the dream had caused us to be totally in sync with one another, the words that leave our mouths are the same as well.

"What the hell was that about?!"