I dreamed that I was caught up in a death ritual. Someone was trying to kill me. I can't be a hundred percent sure, but I think it was Riley. He'd stab me in the back with a dagger and then guide me to a blackboard to write things down, leaving the knife in. But each time I turned it around, got the upper hand--I'd wrench out the knife and stab my attacker deeply, killing him. Somehow after a few repetitions of this ritual, I had two identical vampire Spikes, both mortally wounded by my hand but not yet dead. I'd also temporarily killed the guy who'd engineered this whole mess, quasiRiley. Or someone like him, someone nominally a white hat.
In any case, I loved my Spikes and wanted to keep them around and alive. Sadly I needed Riley dead, or at least gone--I didn't hold what he'd done strongly against him, and was willing to have him remain alive with amnesia as long as there was no way he could keep attacking us. So I came up with these alternatives--kill him, leave him alive with amnesia, etc--laying them out to Warren, who had just arrived on the scene, knocking on my front door at this opportune moment in order to aid me. He was now, after his own death, this emissary of the Powers That Be.
I made some sour remarks to him on that subject, and about his timely appearance. ("Oh, what a coincidence.")
Vague interlude: the Spikes told me that their knife wounds weren't fatal--but they would heal slowly and the two of them wouldn't be as strong as usual. Because of this, we still needed to take some action. We were in a hallway talking this over; one of the Spikes was sitting in a chair, maybe a wheelchair, and I knelt in front of him and, well, he wasn't a woman precisely but he had female stuff going on down there, because I started to get him off, in the way you'd get a woman off. Never mind the details. You can imagine. It's enough to say that it was like a slash story, but with a vagina: one finger, two fingers, three fingers, lube, orgasm.
As I'm doing this, the other Spike stands behind him and does massage-y things to his shoulders, so it's a sort of threeway. At some point during all this, I earnestly ask both Spikes if they're okay with continuing to exist as duplicates of each other. They answer yes in a tone that implies, "Well, of course." They actually seem fond of the idea, of having each other's company. Narcissists.
Meanwhile, Warren has been lurking by the vending machines. There's a segue I can't recall where we all take a walk, to discuss how we're going to keep the Spikes around. It's not as simple as it seems. We decide that one has to be human and the other vampire, but it doesn't seem fair to just relegate each of them to a fixed role, so we discuss the operational logic of transformational curses--like in "Ladyhawke" where the two lovers become human or animal at the turn of day. It's decided that each Spike will be vampire for one half the day, human for the other half and they'll turn at sunrise and sunset. In the dream I didn't work out the details any more than this, but it occurs to me now that one Spike would always be human during the day, and the other Spike would always be human at night. Kind of odd. Unfair, even.
Anyway, I end up in my grandmother's living room with the Spikes and a bunch of other people. The living room looks out over a swamp and has a lot of windows and sliding doors that open onto a deck. The spell is finally cast--I've been anxious about it. One Spike becomes human. As the other Spike remains across the room at a safe or perhaps slightly sulky distance, I pounce on the human Spike, and am struck by how different he is. He's the exact same person, but not: his face seems rounder and his skin pinker; he's got on glasses; his hair has become longer and floppier; even his personality has changed. Oh, and his voice is higher. I realize this sounds like William, but in the dream the sum of these parts was different. Anyway, I am still entranced by the novelty so I glom onto him for a while. We fool around, talk and perhaps kiss. Can't remember.
Then I realize vampire Spike has slunk off all by his lonesome, and I go in search of him. It's the middle of the day, so he's gone off to sleep. He's waded into the swamp outside--it's this chest-high murky water, with shade from overhanging trees, and a row of huts on stilts. I know that he's taken up shelter from the sun under one of the huts, like a dog under a porch. I eventually end up in deep water, swimming to find him. When I do, we climb out of the water and lie together on the landing of some wooden stairs. I marvel at his vampireness and say reassuring things to him, loving him. We're eager to have sex since it's been 1.3576 days (we calculate the decimal number) since we last did it. We start to get it on, and suddenly there's a distracting tour of people descending the stairs around us--couples, kids, old folks. Spike and I don't break our funky selves apart but we do start to lower the mechanical wall that will separate us from their staring faces. Though they aren't staring as much as you'd think. Not all of them seem to realize what we're doing.
And then I woke up as some fuckhead slammed a door in my apartment building. As I finish writing this in Word on the laptop that lay handy at my bedside, it's just now four-thirty and I'm going back to sleep. It was a great dream. I was very happy with my Spikes.
[Comments now contain casting spoilers for S5 Angel.]