banner by Always_jbj

Title:  I Know You, II  a Sequel to Prologue to Life/I Know You

Author: Slaymesoftly

Rating: NC17 eventually

Word count:

Disclaimer:  The characters belong to Joss Whedon; the story is all mine.

AN: awards won may be found at the end of the story

Summary :  A sequel to another fic that took Post Chosen/NFA in a very different direction, almost all of which took place in an alternate Season II; this fic follows the Season II Buffy and Spike into the dimension to which the Powers sent them when they put “our” Spike and Buffy into the Season II world/dimension.  Confused yet? LOL There will be appearances by the original Spike and Buffy, as well as Dawn and others, but the primary emphasis will be on the Spike and Buffy who were removed from their own world and their adventures in the one in which they have found themselves.  Naturally, there will be a growing relationship between the two strangers when they find themselves thrown together.  We begin with the last scene from Prologue to Life/I Know You as a prologue to this story:

Prologue from the last scene in I Know You

….All she knew was that this felt like her Spike, and the emotion that it was bringing to the surface threatened to overwhelm her.  Squeezing her eyes closed, she surrendered to pure sensation and let the sentiment pulse through her, taking her someplace safe and wonderful.

She felt Spike begin to quiver as her muscles tightened around him and knew he was about to join her in a mutually explosive release. Reaching up with her mouth, she fastened her small little teeth on the skin of his throat and bit down as waves of pleasure washed over her.  She heard Spike shout, “Buffy!” as he plunged into her.  Then his fangs were on her neck and he sent her spiraling into another orgasm as he pulled long draughts of her rich blood into his mouth.

He soon stopped drinking, but remained inside her, cock still buried in her warmth and teeth still embedded in the skin of her throat.  Slowly withdrawing his fangs and fading back into his human face, he whispered, “Mine,” as he laved the wounds closed.

“Yours,” she agreed, licking the droplets of blood coming from where she’d bitten his neck. “And you are mine.”

“That I am, love,” he said softly, raising his head and smiling down into her shocked eyes.

“I love you...” she ventured as she held his gaze and prepared herself for his denial of any reciprocal feelings.

“Not as much as I love you,” was the totally unexpected answer.

“Wha-?”  Buffy stared at him, taking in the softness of his gaze and the…soul?…she could see in there.

“Sp…Spike?”

 Hope battled with hard-won experience as she watched his eyes grow moist. He began to slowly rock his hips, never taking his glistening eyes from hers and the slow comprehension growing there.

“It’s me, Buffy.  I’m here.  An’ I’m not leavin’.  Not for Dru, or the poof, or the soddin’ Powers That Like to Mess With People. I’ll never leave you again.  Be here till we’re both dust in the wind.”

“Did I die again?  Am I back in Heaven?” she whispered in genuine bewilderment.  “Aren’t you already dust?  Or ashes? Or something?”

“If I’ve got it figured out right – this is about as close to Heaven as either one of us is getting’ for awhile.  Seems our talents are needed in this world and the PTB thought we’d do a better job if we were together.”

“You’re real?  You’re really here and you’re my Spike?” 

She ran her hands over his face, stroking the scar on his eyebrow, running her fingers down his cheekbone and touching his full lower lip.  He pulled her finger into his mouth and sucked on it, releasing it to assure her,  “‘M as real as somebody who keeps not dyin’ can be, love.  And I’m definitely your Spike. Always was, always will be.”

He gently licked the claim he’d placed on her neck.  “And you’re mine, Slayer.  No half-arsed marks this time.  Want the whole world to see those.”

Throughout their conversation, he’d never stopped the gentle rocking of his hips and that small bit of friction had set up the inevitable urge for more.  Suddenly Buffy flexed her muscles and flipped them over so that she was straddling him and squeezing her Slayer muscles around his cock.

“Oh, god, pet, I love it when you do that,” he gasped, thrusting up into her.

“I know you do,” she whispered back, as she slid up and down on him. 

When he reached his hands forward and began kneading her breasts while she rode him, she moaned and leaned toward him.

“I missed you so much,” she breathed.  “I missed your hands on me, missed the way you kiss me, the way you love me…”

“‘M here now, love.  I’ll always be here; holdin’ you, touchin’ you, lovin’ you.  Never let you go…”

His hands on her waist held her down while he pushed up with his hips, watching her face as she gasped and whimpered her way to her climax.  When she collapsed on his chest, her ragged breathing signaling her inability to continue just then, he wrapped his legs around hers and pinned her to his body while he continued to thrust in to her. 

The angle of his hips put more friction on her clit and she moaned in his ear as he whispered to her, “Come with me, love.  One more time.  Come with me, sweetheart.”

“Oh, Spike I can’t…I…”

“Yes, you can, love.  I know you can. Come for me, love.  Come with me, Buffy.”

“No…I…can’t…couldn’t… possibly…mmmmm…ooooh….Spike!”

His answering shout as he found his release in her, sent another small thrill through her exhausted body before she went limp on top of him.  He held her boneless body cradled in his arms, his breathing as fast and ragged as her own.  When he could move again, he shifted her off to the side where she stayed, one leg thrown over his and her head resting on his chest.

For long minutes they were silent, lost in all the possible ramifications of where they were and how they got there.  The vampire was immersed in the scent and feel of his Slayer.  The physical closeness they’d just begun to work their way back to, when he’d had to use the power of his soul and the amulet to close the Hellmouth, had in no way prepared either of them for such a reunion.

“If the PTB are expecting us to save this world, they’re going to have to give me some time.  I don’t think I could stop Xander from eating a doughnut right now.”

The deep chuckle that shook his chest sent a bolt of joy through her heart.  She closed her eyes and gave silent thanks to the PTB for allowing them this second chance.

“I’m serious,” she said, with as much energy as she could summon. “I couldn’t stop a minor traffic accident right now, never mind an apocalypse.”

“Yes, you could, love.  If you had to, you could.” He spoke with absolute certainty.

“Oh yeah?  How do you know that?  I might just be limp little Buffy for weeks.”

He chuckled again and pulled her up so that he could plant light kisses on her face and mouth.

“Because I know you, my love.  I know you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike stretched and opened his eyes, momentarily confused as he would have sworn that he had just been shagging Buffy, and yet her scent was nowhere around him, and the hard, cold ground beneath his back told him that he was no longer in her soft, warm bed. 

“What the bloody hell….?”   He sat up slowly and took in his surroundings.  “If that was just a wet dream, it was a …”  His voice trailed off as he took deep inhalations of the air around him.  Along with the familiar scents that he associated with cemeteries – which is where he seemed to have found himself – there was something in the air that seemed alien.  Just a bit…off.  He growled and came quickly to his feet, all senses on alert as he tried to wrap his mind around what might have happened.

Was back in Sunnydale, shaggin’ the Slayer…know I didn’t dream that.  It was as real as… He slumped back to the ground, resting his back against a handy tombstone and letting his head fall back in sudden understanding.  I’ve been hi-jacked.  Just like Buffy said she’d been pulled from her life in the future or some other dimension – I’ve been

”Bloody buggering fuck!”  His angry roar as the reality of what had probably happened to him sank in, echoed among the headstones and crypts surrounding him.

On his feet again, he looked around angrily, seeking something upon which to vent his fury over being taken from his own world and the girl with which he was sure he could have easily fallen in love.  The unmistakable sounds of fighting drew his attention and he began stalking towards the noise, not caring who or what he might find there as long as he could take out his frustration in his favorite fashion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter One

“Buffy!” 

The shouted warning caused Buffy to duck, even as she wondered who or what that wandered in graveyards at night would have wanted to warn her about the sword currently swooshing over her head.  She came up from her crouch and drove her own sword into the heart of the demon that had been behind her, smiling with satisfaction when he crumpled to the ground.  A quick glance showed her that the area was now clear – with the exception of a smiling blond man Vampire! That’s a vampire smiling at me like…like…we know each other? who had obviously been the one to call her name.

“Who are you? How do you know my name?”

She fell back into a fighting stance, sword poised; remaining like that long enough to begin feeling foolish as the vampire stayed well out of reach and just continued to smile.  From a safe distance, he began to walk around her, his eyes running up and down her body, making note of the missing baby fat that had given “his” Buffy so many curves while at the same time admiring the obvious fitness and strength in the body in front of him.  Buffy narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she turned to keep her face to him.  Although the circling and staring screamed, “killer sizing up his prey”, the expressions flitting across his face were anything but frightening.  Ignoring everything she knew about never turning her back on a danger, she paused and allowed him continue to circle her like the predator that he clearly was.

There was something eerily familiar about the way he prowled around the edges of her vision, his eyes devouring her even as a trace of disappointment flickered across his face.   With a sudden flash of memory, she remembered dancing in the Bronze shortly before finding herself in this place.  There had been a blond man prowling the edges of the dance floor, staring at her while she danced, and sending her senses into overload.  She had no real memory of what had happened after that – only that she hadn’t noticed his disappearance.   Probably because it was at that very moment that she had been yanked from her familiar world and deposited into the very different one in which she’d been living ever since.

With a cry of rage, she crossed the distance between them, intent on removing his head from his shoulders in revenge for what she assumed was his culpability in the spell that had taken her from her home and friends.  To her surprise, he easily evaded her sword, laughing with delight as he kicked it out of her hand.

“Now that’s more like it, Slayer!” he crowed.  “Come on, luv. Show me what you’ve got.”

More than willing to wipe the cocky smirk off his face, Buffy threw a punch at his face, following it with a leg sweep.  When he easily slipped the punch and jumped over her leg, she frowned and slowed her attack.  Letting out her senses, she realized that there was more power in this vampire’s signature than in any of the fledglings or would-be masters that she’d come up against so far in this world.

She pulled the stake from her waistband and began a more cautious and calculated approach, almost growling in frustration when the vampire smiled again and purred, “Ah, that’s my clever girl.  ‘s nice to know that you’re already on your way to bein’ one of the best slayers I’ve ever faced.”

Her anger at his cocky attitude and at the open desire in his eyes overcame the common sense that was trying to tell her to assess the situation more thoroughly before charging in.  With an angry glare, she said coldly, “I’m not your girl – and I’m about to be the last slayer you ever face.”  She flew at him again, using her patented feint and stab technique, only to find herself spun around, stake hand immobilized and her back pressed against a muscular chest while his soft chuckle rumbled in her ear.

“Can feel the strength in this body, pet, but you don’t have the moves yet.  You’re not ready to take me on.”

Flexing the much stronger muscles she had found herself with in this place, Buffy tore her stake hand out of his grip and swung it over her head, aiming for his eyes.  A “Bloody hell” exploded from the vampire as his last second shift left him with a jagged gash down the side of his face rather than missing an eye.

Spinning away from him, Buffy immediately attempted to follow up her advantage by driving the bloody stake through his chest.  The uppercut that rocked her back on her heels, and the quick flurry of angry punches that followed it quickly turned the momentum and once again she found herself being held immobile by the vampire – this time with the hard ground at her back and his weight pinning her down. A frisson of fear crept up her spine when she gazed into his true face for the first time. 

Blood dripped from the wound on his forehead as he snarled at her, his fangs scant inches from her throat. His legs had hers tightly pinned while his full weight pinned her to the ground helplessly.  His hands held her clenched fists over her head, the stake now lying uselessly several feet away. She tried throwing him off, but even her superior strength wasn’t enough to move the furious demon away from her throat.

Glaring defiantly, she hissed, “Why did you save me from the demon if you’re just going to kill me now?”

“I’m not going to kill you; much as you deserve it, you bloody stupid bint.  I’m just trying to stay undusted until I can figure out what’s going on.”

“You were about to try to bite me – that’s what’s going on,” she growled back, forcing herself to relax a little in hopes that he would be lured into easing his hold on her hands. As she realized that he really didn’t seem to be planning to kill her just then, she relaxed enough to notice other things – like the way his body was molded to hers in a way that was disturbingly pleasant.  Until she noticed the hard bulge pressing against her thigh and realized what it was.

“Ewwww! Get off me, you pervert!”  Her sudden squirming did nothing to disperse the erection that had appeared while they were fighting.  If anything, it became harder and the vampire uttered a barely muffled groan before responding.

“You don’t want that touchin’ your not-so-virginal little body, you’re gonna want to stop all the wriggling aroun’, pet.”

He emphasized his words with a hard thrust against her leg, sending her into another panicked series of twists and wriggles.

“Goddammit, Slayer!  Stop that, before I forget that you think you’re a sixteen-year-old virgin.”

Panting from the exertions that had so far done nothing but increase the heat in the vampire’s glare, Buffy stopped struggling and stared up at him, her lip coming out in a pout.

“What do you mean, ‘think I’m a sixteen-year-old virgin’? I know what I am.  I am sixteen- well, seventeen now, I guess - and I am a…why am I having this conversation with a demon?”

“Because I know you, love,” he whispered, his face sliding back into its attractive human features.  “This demon knows you in ways that you can’t even imagine yet.”

For long minutes her eyes bored into his, noting the complete lack of any threat in his gaze, even as the wound she’d given him stopped bleeding.  The soft expression on his face, combined with the fact that she was still alive and without new fang marks on her neck had her relaxing even more.  As he felt her muscles loosen under him, Spike smiled tentatively and asked, “If I let you go, will you promise not to try to stake me until we’ve sussed this out?  I don’t want to hurt you, Slayer, but I don’t want to blow away on the next breeze either.”

He watched carefully as her deeply engrained distrust of his kind warred with the desire to know more about where she was and how she got there.  And she wanted to know why this vampire that she remembered seeing only briefly once before in her life said that he knew her.  She gave a cautious nod and answered, “Okay, we have a truce. For now.”

“Do I have your promise, pet?”

“Fine!” She rolled her eyes. “I promise.  No staking until you explain what’s going on and what you had to do with it.”

After another hard look into her guileless eyes, he nodded and reluctantly moved off the body that was calling to him in ways that he knew she would never understand.   He stood up and adjusted himself, smiling slightly when she quickly looked away and blushed.

No hand jobs under the stairs from this one, he told himself ruefully.  This isn’t the slayer that you know, mate, and you’d best be remembering that if you want to stay undusted.

“Let’s find somewhere more comfortable, Slayer, and I’ll tell you all I know and you tell me what you know. Deal?”

“Deal,” she said dubiously.  “Where do you want to go?”

“You’ve been here longer than I have, pet. Lead on.”

Keeping the vampire where she could see him with her peripheral vision, the young slayer began walking out of the cemetery and towards the diner where she normally stopped to eat after her patrols.

Chapter Two

Buffy stopped chewing her mouthful of hamburger and gaped at her undead companion who had just popped a french-fry into his mouth.  She tried to speak, almost choking when she inhaled, forgetting that she had a mouth full of unchewed food.  Swallowing quickly, she tried again. 

            “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she insisted as though he was already arguing with her.  “You’re telling me that I’m – that some older me is living in my body back in my house with my mother while I’m stuck here in this weird place because Willow – my Willow? – did a spell?”

            “As near as we could figure out, pet.  That’s what you…she... says must have happened.  Seems like you were pretty unhappy, and the witch probably thought that she could magic you back into being your perky little self.”

            “What could have made me so unhappy that Willow would do a spell without my permission?”

            He rolled his eyes, remembering some of the things Buffy had told him about future Willow and her power trips.  Then he remembered all the things that could bring tears to “his” Buffy’s eyes so easily and his face softened.

            “I don’t think you really need to know all that just now, luv.  Could be that none of it’s gonna happen here, and no sense your getting all teary-eyed over nothin’”

            “How old am – was I?  In your world.  How old did you say that Buffy said she was?”

            “Said she was twenty-three. But she was in another body when I saw her, so she didn’t look it.  Not ‘less you looked into her eyes…” He gazed off into the distance for a few seconds, remembering the slayer who had defeated him so often.

            “My body,” Buffy said flatly.  “She was in my body.”

            He nodded, his attention brought back to the girl across from him.

            “Would guess so, luv.  The one you’re wearin’ definitely belongs to someone older and stronger…Not that there’s anything wrong with it!” he hastened to assure her when he noticed the disappointed flash of her eyes.

            “Spare me,” she snapped.  “I’ve got scars I don’t know anything about, I’ve got lines on my face, and I don’t even look in the mirror any more because I don’t know the girl looking back at me.”

            Risking a broken hand, he touched her cheek gently and said, “It’s a woman you see lookin’ back at you, luv.  One hell of a woman.  Strong and smart and just as beautiful as that little girl you left behind.”

            His hand dropped before she could complain, and Buffy studied her plate intently - not sure what to make of this unusual vampire and his tale of having met her older self, but more than aware of the intensity in his gaze.  Gathering her courage, she raised her eyes to his and asked softly, “Were you…did you… love her?  The other Buffy?”

            His expression told her that she’d caught him by surprise and she smiled at the panicky look on his face.  

            “Cat got your tongue?” she asked with a smile.

            “My tongue’s right where it belongs, Slayer,” he growled, then smirked and curled it up behind his teeth.  “Any time you want to check that out, pet, you jus’ let me know, yeah?”

            Her blush was a quick reminder of her real age, and he dropped the leer to laugh at her mortified expression.  He knew she hadn’t intended any sexual innuendo with her remark, but he was enjoying her embarrassed concern that he might think she was flirting with him.

            He grinned with admiration when her chin came up and she challenged him with “You didn’t answer my question, Spike.”

            Biting back an automatic “Bloody hell, no!” he gave her serious question the consideration it deserved.  After a few seconds of thought he sighed and shook his head.

            “I ‘spect I was workin’ on it.  You – she’s a pretty amazing woman.  I won’t deny that there was somethin’ there.  But I wasn’t ‘her’ Spike, anymore than you are ‘my’ Buffy.  And from what she said, he loved her more than I can even imagine.  So, the honest answer is no, I didn’t love her – not yet.”

            “Not yet?”  She struggled to cope with the idea of two Spikes – one falling in love with her and one that had already fallen.

            “I’m not her,” she said suddenly, fixing him with a hard stare.  “I don’t even know you.”

            She blinked in bewildered annoyance as he roared with hearty laughter that eventually tapered off to deep chuckles.

            “I had that comin’, didn’t I?” he gasped, still chortling. 

            “Care to share?” The Slayer tapped her fingers on the formica tabletop in a steadily increasing rhythm.

            “You’re not her, love.  I know that.  But you will be.  Someday you will be.” His expression shifted to one of perfect seriousness.  “An’ as much as it disturbs me to have to say this, I know you, Slayer.”

            “You need to stop saying that.” Buffy’s lip was coming out into a pout that riveted his attention to her mouth.  With an effort, he tore his gaze away from the lips he knew so well.

            “Oh I don’t think so, love.  I owe you some of those.”

            “You’re not telling me everything,” she muttered, her lip still in a pout and her brow furrowed.  “What aren’t you telling me?”

            “There’s nothing else I might have to tell you that you’re gonna want to hear just now.  You’ll just have to trust me, pet.  Something or somebody has sent us both here – in your case at least, we know it was to make space for an older version of you in whatever dimension we came from.  It’s gonna be up to us to suss out what we can do about it.”

            He watched as she tried to smother a yawn, smiling at her angry glare when he finished off her fries and stood up.  “Come on, luv.  I’ll walk you home and you can tell me what you know about this place.  Where do the demons hang out?   Where’s the nearest vamp bar? I need to find a place to bunk down for the day without catchin’ fire and I might need to follow some other vampires home...”

            “Oh, like I’m going to tell you where you can find minions,” she scoffed.  “And I don’t know where the bars are because, Hello? Too young to drink?” She waved her hand around for emphasis, but found herself standing up to join him at the door.   When he went to put money on the table for her food, he was surprised to find the man behind the cash register waving him off.

            “The Slayer’s money is no good in here,” he said cheerfully.  “If you want to pay for the fries that you ate, you can catch it the next time.” 

The man gave no sign that he had any idea that Spike was not the twenty-something punk that he appeared to be, and he nodded his thanks as he held the door for Buffy. She gave him a suspicious look, but ducked under his arm and exited the building.  She began walking down the street rapidly enough so as not to seem to be waiting for him, but not so quickly that he couldn’t catch up with a few long strides.

“So,” he began when she didn’t say anything, “he knows what you are?”

Buffy nodded once.  “He does.  Things are a lot more open here than they are back in Sunnydale.  There’s no Hellmouth to worry about, but there are a lot more vampires and demons and nobody tries to pretend that they don’t exist.” She gave Spike a sideways look.  “I’m surprised he didn’t figure you out.  He’s usually a lot more savvy than that.”

“It’s my charm and good looks,” Spike said smugly.  “Fools ‘em every bloody time.”

Buffy shrugged. “Maybe he just figured if you were with me, you were harmless,” she said, giggling at his outraged, “Not harmless! Master vampire here, you disrespectful bint!”

She was still smiling as she stopped in front of a small house, set in between two apartment buildings.  The small bungalow was dwarfed by the several-story high buildings on either side, and it appeared to be abandoned.

“This is where you live?” he asked incredulously, comparing the run down building with the modest, but attractive Summers’ home in Sunnydale.

“Hey! It was free,” she said defensively.  “I’d fix it up, but I keep thinking that this is all a dream and I’ll wake up pretty soon; or, if it’s a spell, that Giles will find a way to bring me back.”  Her shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly as she finished softly, “I guess that’s not going to happen…”

He shook his head in agreement.  “I’m gonna guess it isn’t, pet.  For me either, I ‘spect.  That’s why I need to spend the rest of the night getting’ my feet on the ground here.  Need to figure out what’s what before I make any mistakes that could get me dead.”

Buffy’s skeptical snort made him frown; then he shrugged and admitted, “Deader than I already am, anyway.”

The Slayer’s innate fear and distrust of vampires warred silently with the seventeen-year-old’s desire to cling to someone who knew who she was and who knew her family and friends.   She studied Spike’s open face briefly, remembering that he could have killed at least twice already that evening, before mumbling, “I have a basement.”

He gaped at her.  “Are you sayin’ what I think you are, Slayer?”

“I’m saying I have a basement. That’s all.  If you want…if you don’t find a safe place to stay, you could come back here and spend the day down there.  I’ll have to go to work around ten, but you could sleep here.”

“You don’t know me, Buffy. What would possess you to make that kind of an offer to a vamp?” His voice was soft, with just the slightest hint of disapproval in it.

She shrugged, embarrassed that he was telling her what she already should know.  “I don’t know.  Because you say you know me – and it seems like you do.  And because older me didn’t stake you for some reason…and… I don’t know!  Look, do you want it or not?  I’ll unlock the outside door and lock the one at the top of the stairs, so it’s not like you’ll actually be in my house.  Just kinda like…under it.”

He cocked his head at her, waiting until she looked him in the eye to say softly, “You’ll still have to give me an invite, luv.  You sure you want to do that?”

“No.”  Her lip came out in the familiar pout. “I’m not sure.  But I sleep with a stake under my pillow, so if you…”

“Wouldn’t.” His voice was flat and hard.  “Would never betray your trust like that, Slayer.”

“Well, okay then.  It’s settled.  You’ll go do…whatever vampires do when they’re new in town, and when you need to come in, the basement door will be open for you.”

She turned and walked up to her front door, inserting her key and turning the knob.  She looked over her shoulder at the still-unbelieving vampire and said quietly, “Come in, Spike.”  She stepped inside and waited while he tentatively put one foot over the threshold.  As soon as he was sure the barrier was gone, he pulled his foot back and nodded.

“I appreciate it, luv.  You go get some sleep – I’ll be back in a few hours, but I’ll be quiet-like so I don’t wake you.  Good night, Slay-Buffy.”

“Good night, Spike.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Making a quick mental note of the address of the house, as well as taking a good look at the tall buildings on each side so that he would have landmarks, Spike began walking briskly in the direction of the lights that would indicate the area of town where he could find some nightlife.  He briefly wondered if there had been an alternate Spike in this world, but shrugged it off as irrelevant to anything. I’m here now and I’ll need to make a quick adjustment if I’m to make the best of it.  Finding Buffy right off was a stoke of good luck, but—Bloody hell!

            The sudden realization that there was very little chance it was a coincidence he’d landed in the same cemetery that Buffy was working, had him kicking trash cans and punching street signs as he cursed the PTB and their meddling in the lives of others.   For the first time, it occurred to him to wonder what had happened to the Buffy that he’d just left. His first thought when he’d awakened, completely dressed and with no Slayer moving under him, was to wonder if he had dreamed the whole thing.  Suddenly, the idea that Buffy could have abruptly found herself clutching empty air made him physically sick for a second.

You know I wouldn’t have left you like that if I’d been the one in control, don’t you, Buffy? Would never leave you like that, love.  Don’t hate me, sweetheart, it wasn’t my doin’ that took me outta there…

            He tried to shrug off the sudden fear that he’d left “his” Buffy alone in her suddenly empty bed, reminding himself of what he’d told this Buffy about being kicked out to make room for some other version. Vowing to find a way to let Sunnydale Buffy know where he was as soon as he could figure out a way, he headed for what his senses told him was the seedier part of town and the nearest demon bar.

Quickly finding what he was searching for, he entered the dimly lit room and sent his senses out, assessing the customers. The place reminded him of Willy’s bar in Sunnydale – mostly demons and a few vampires, but with the occasional human low-life here and there around the room.  He heard the heartbeats accelerate as he paused inside the door and he reveled in the sudden lull in conversation as the customers sized up the newcomer. 

            He met the gazes of all the demons that seemed willing to meet his eyes and stared them all down, ignoring the humans as not worthy of intimidating.  When he felt that he’d made the point about his dominance, he relaxed and walked to an empty table near the bar.  He bestowed his most charming smile on the pretty vampire that came over to wait on him, running his eyes appreciatively over her body as he asked her for a bottle of Jack Daniels and a glass of O neg; then he settled back to assess the other vampires and demons in the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy walked through her nightly routine in zombie-like fashion, her brain whirling with possible explanations for the appearance of the blond vampire and his apparently lack of interest in killing her.

He says he was falling in love with me-the other Buffy.  Does that mean we’re dating? How could I be dating him?  What about Angel?  I love Angel.  I would never dump him for some other vampire…

Thinking back over their conversations, she realized that Spike had never once mentioned the souled vampire that, up until now, had been her only non-violent contact with the creatures meant to be her prey.  Her heart rate increased as she began to imagine all the reasons why he would not have told her about Angel while he was bringing her up to date on her mother and friends. 

Is Angel dust?  Or did he break up with me?  Is that why I’m with Spike?  Because Angel left me?  He wouldn’t do that, would he ? He loves me. And I love him.  I wouldn’t be dating another vampire.  He must be making that part up. He’s jealous of Angel.  That’s got to be it.

Vowing to get Spike to tell her about Angel tomorrow reminded her that she needed to unlock the basement door for the vampire that she was so inexplicably trusting not to creep upstairs and murder her in her sleep. She grabbed an extra pillow and blanket off the bed and padded barefoot down to the dank basement.  The lone bulb in the ceiling gave off just enough light to show her the door, the corners of the room remaining shadowed and too dark to identify objects.  With her hand on the lock, she stopped and sucked in a deep breath.

Okay, I’m about to unlock my house and let a vampire, a very strong vampire that I don’t really know, come in whenever he wants to and live down here right under my room.  I must be losing my mind.

A sudden thought caused her heart to speed up as she unlocked the deadbolt and twisted the knob until the door lock clicked open.

Maybe Spike has his soul too.  That must be why I’m trusting him.  He didn’t tell me because he assumed I would know that he wasn’t killing me because he has a soul.  That’s got to be it. I’ll ask him tomorrow. He’s probably just like Angel.

She tossed the pillow and blanket onto the middle of the floor where Spike would have no trouble finding them, and hastened back up to the main floor of the house.  She hesitated briefly, then firmly shut and locked the door between the stairs and the small, shabby kitchen.  At the last second, she took one of the two old wooden chairs that had come with the house and propped it against the doorknob. If she realized the futility of using a flimsy chair and a locked door to keep a powerful master vampire from entering the house whenever and wherever he wanted to, she resolutely pushed it to the back of her mind as she walked the short distance to the bedroom.

She slid into her narrow bed and huddled under the down comforter which had been her only extravagant purchase since she’d suddenly found herself having to buy all her own food, clothing and necessities.  The small wages that she earned working in the kitchen of a nearby bar/restaurant barely covered her meals and a minimal amount of clothing. She was being only partially honest with Spike when she said that she hadn’t tried to fix the house up because she wasn’t planning to stay there.  The unhappy discovery that wherever she was now had a much cooler climate than sunny southern California meant that much of her first several paychecks had gone to purchase warm, slaying-friendly clothing rather than amenities for the house.

Buffy awoke briefly, just before dawn, her slayer senses screaming that there was a vampire nearby.  She was already on her feet, stake in hand, when she realized that someone had just shut the outside door to the basement.  After several minutes in which she absorbed the vampire’s signature and recognized it as Spike’s, she got back into bed and tried to get back to sleep.  Unconsciously listening for any small sound that would indicate that the vampire was not staying downstairs, she was a long time relaxing enough to fall back into a fitful sleep, her hand still clutching the stake.

Chapter Three 

“I want to try it.”  Dawn’s voice and stubborn expression were eerily reminiscent of her older sister and Giles sighed in defeat. 

“Very well, if the coven agrees that it is safe for you to do so, you may try opening a small portal to the dimension in which they located Buffy. But you may not go through the portal until we have discussed all the ramifications and all the possible ways that it could go wrong.”

As Dawn’s eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to argue, he added softly, “Please. I couldn’t bear to lose both of you.”

With an abashed flush, Dawn realized what she was asking of the man who had been like a father to them for years, and she nodded her head in resignation.

“All right, Giles.  I’ll be careful. And I won’t do anything until you guys tell me it’s okay.  But I can do it.  I know I can do it.”

After working with the coven whenever she could spare the time from school, Dawn had begun to explore the latent abilities provided by her former existence as a key.  There was general agreement that, with proper supervision and control, it should be possible for the rapidly maturing girl to move back and forth freely between dimensions and Dawn was anxious to try it out by popping in on Buffy and trying to talk her into coming back with her.

If I can get her to stop boinking evil Spike long enough to listen, that is.

Constant nagging had finally wormed a G-rated explanation from the Coven’s seers as to who else seemed to be present in the Sunnydale her sister was now inhabiting, and Dawn had no trouble understanding why Buffy might be reluctant to leave a dimension in which Spike was still alive. 

As the Council’s strongest witches gathered to supervise, Dawn took a deep breath, stroking the soft fur of the pet rat she was holding to calm herself. She picked the rat up and rubbed her nose against it as she murmured, “I wouldn’t do this if I thought anything bad was going to happen to you, Sukie. You know that, right?”  There was no reply from Sukie, but Dawn chose to believe that her bright little eyes indicated a willingness to participate.  Opening the door of the cage and checking that the note she had put there was properly taped to the outside of the door where Sukie couldn’t munch on it, she carefully placed the little creature in the cage, gave her a final pat and shut the door.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

She placed the cage inside the space marked out on the floor and stepped back outside the carefully drawn circle.  At a nod from one of the seers, she pricked her finger with a sharp bladed knife and squeezing a few drops of blood onto the cage, she began to read the words the coven had given her.  For a heart-wrenching second, nothing happened; then the cage and Sukie winked out of existence and everyone gasped.

“How long?” Dawn’s voice shook with emotion as she stared at the empty space.

“It was a very small amount of blood,” Gwyneth replied kindly.  “I should think no more than an hour, perhaps less.”

Giles tapped Dawn on the shoulder and suggested, “You could go wash out that cut and rest for a bit, Dawn.  I’ll call you if – when – it comes back.”

She stared at him blankly.  “You’re joking, right? I’m not going anywhere until Sukie comes back with my note.”  She walked over to a nearby chair and sat down firmly, never taking her gaze off the empty space.  “I don’t need to rest. I didn’t do anything.”

Just over an hour had passed and Dawn was now pacing rapidly back and forth across the room, shooting anxious glances at the still-empty circle every time she made a turn.  The coven members had drifted back into the room, their faces just beginning to show a trace of anxiety when, with a small ‘pop’ the cage reappeared, rat and all.  Dawn was there almost immediately, ripping the note off the front and scanning the page.  Her wide smile and happy squeal made it unnecessary to ask if the note had been answered.

“Okay, ladies,” she said happily. “I’m going to Sunnydale!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy was eating her breakfast, happily crunching her cereal and laughing at Spike as he theatrically stirred some corn flakes into his mug of blood.  Joyce’s shudder and exaggerated sick face just made her laugh all the more.

“Sorry, Mom,” she giggled finally.  “I promise the vampire and his disgusting eating habits will be out of your hair by the weekend.  We found a nice underground apartment not too far from the school, and as soon as we get some furniture in there—“

            “You don’t have to leave, you know.” Joyce’s voice was suddenly serious as she renewed an old argument. “I don’t mind having you here – either one of you.” 

            Buffy sighed and exchanged a look with Spike.  He moved around the island to stand behind her, his nearness offering silent support, even as he smiled gratefully at the woman watching them.

            “We really do, Mom.  I know this is still hard for you, but I’ve been on my own for a long time and I just feel…weird…living here like I was still a kid. It’s not like you aren’t going to see us all the time.  We’ll come for dinner –“ She paused when she felt Spike’s eager nodding behind her back. “You can even teach me to cook – so that this jerk…” she sent her elbow back into the laughing vampire’s stomach. “…will stop complaining about my cooking.  Dumb ass doesn’t need to eat real food anyway,” she grumbled, as her still-chuckling lover put his arms around her and nuzzled her neck apologetically.

            The easy familiarity of Spike’s physical attention to her daughter reminded Joyce of the primary reason the two blonds had decided to find their own place to live and she blushed as she agreed with them. 

            “You’re right. Of course, you are.  You two are not children and you definitely need to have your privacy…” Her voice trailed off as she recalled being awakened once too often by the sounds coming from her daughter’s room.  Even their move to the basement hadn’t completely muffled the occasional scream or shout from their bedroom and she sighed with the truth of her words.

            Any reply Buffy may have been planning was interrupted by a popping noise and a flash of light.  Three heads swiveled to find a small cage sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor. Inside the cage was a very bewildered-looking rat.

            “Okaaaay….I’m thinking, Willow again?”  Buffy leaned towards the cage and said, “Amy? Is that you?”  There was no reply except a wrinkling of the rat’s nose and Spike reached over Buffy’s shoulder to pull the note off the front of the cage.

            He opened it and, after a quick glance, he silently handed it to Buffy, who read it through, then reread it, a broad smile spreading over her face.  She turned to look at ab equally happy Spike.

            “They know where I am,” she said.  “She can find us.”

            Joyce’s anxious, “Who knows?  Who can find you?  What are you—oh, my god. Are you going to leave?”

            Buffy and Spike exchanged a look and he gently touched her back as he said, “I think you need to tell her about Dawn, love.  Before she pops up in the sink or something and scares your mum to death.”

            “Dawn?”

            “You’d better sit down for this one, Mom.”  As Buffy suited actions to words and sat on her stool, she took the pen Spike handed her and began to hastily scribble on the back of the note from her sister.  She handed the completed message to him and while he refastened it to the cage and stuck his fingers in to stroke the nervous rat, Buffy began trying to explain Dawn to the woman who had no idea that she was about to have another daughter.

            They all jumped when the cage and rat winked back out of existence. As Spike went to stand near Buffy, he gave that area of the kitchen a wide berth in anticipation of another, much larger, arrival.

            Joyce rubbed her temples and squeezed her eyes shut for several seconds.

            “Okay, let’s see if I’ve got this.  You have a sister.  A real, live, human sister who didn’t exist until a few years ago and yet, who is your biological sister.’  She fixed Buffy with a steely eye.  “And this sister’s name is ‘Dawn’?  Whose idea was that?”

            “Um, I’m gonna guess…yours? Or Dad’s, maybe?”

            At her mother’s incredulous look, Buffy muttered, “Well, you named me Buffy, you know.  It’s not like that’s a classic.”

            “She’s got a point, Joyce,” Spike chimed in.  “Bloody silly name for a Slayer, if you ask me.” He quickly closed his mouth when Joyce’s glare left her daughter’s face and focused on her smirking boyfriend.

            “I know this is going to be hard, Mom.  The monks haven’t given you any memories – not yet, anyway.  But, please, when she gets here…” Buffy stopped, remembering her own clingy behavior when she’d first arrived and found that her mother was still alive.  “Just remember – she’s going to be seeing her mother for the first time in several years.”

            “The mother that she thinks is dead,” Joyce said dryly.

            Buffy nodded.  They hadn’t really discussed Joyce’s possible future illness in detail, but the woman knew that in Buffy’s world she had succumbed to whatever problem her daughter was so determined to prevent this time around.

            “Yeah,” Buffy said softly. “She’s going to be pretty surprised and…and…probably kinda…excited.  I just don’t want you to hurt her feelings.”

            “Of course I wouldn’t—but…another teen-age daughter?” Buffy and Spike laughed at Joyce’s obvious dismay and reassured her somewhat.

            “It’ll be all right, Mom.  I’m not really a teenager anymore, and Dawn has grown up a lot in the last couple of years.  I’m just remembering how I felt when I realized that in this dimension I still had…had you.  I had some time to get used to the idea before I actually saw you, but Dawn’s just going to pop up in the kitchen here, and I don’t know if she will have even thought about all the things that might be different.”

            Before there could be any more discussion, a much louder pop – one that made Spike’s more sensitive ears ring – signified the arrival of a larger visitor.  For just a second, the people in the room remained frozen in place, their minds struggling to absorb the reality of what had just happened in the ordinary suburban kitchen.   The ones with the most experience in adjusting to sudden disruption recovered first and with a happy squeal, Buffy threw herself at her much taller younger sister.

            While the two girls hugged and jumped up and down emitting high-pitched squeals that had Spike covering his ears, their mother stared at them with a bemused smile.  Although the tall young woman currently clinging to her “real” daughter was a stranger to her, it was easy to pick out some family traits that were familiar to Joyce if not to Buffy.  Dawn’s height, of course, was the easy one, as Joyce herself was several inches taller than her oldest daughter.  Dawn’s slender build and dark chestnut hair were eerily reminiscent of Joyce’s own mother and she smiled at the resemblance.

            As Buffy and Dawn calmed down, the taller girl’s eyes went to the blond woman staring at her with bemusement.

            “M…Mommy?”

            “Hello, Dawn. It’s nice to meet you.” Joyce watched the girl’s expression fade from joyful disbelief to pained resignation.

            “You don’t know me.”

            She didn’t know her – she hadn’t known until a short time ago that the girl even existed; but Joyce’s maternal instincts would not allow her to leave a child with such visibly crushed hopes standing in her kitchen.  She held out her arms and said with a smile, “But I’d like to…”

            With a tremulous smile, Dawn released Buffy and stepped into the waiting embrace.  She clutched Buffy’s mother, her eyes squeezed tightly shut until she felt that she could let go without crying.

            “Thank you,” she whispered as she stepped back.  “I needed that.”

            “Any time, honey.” 

            Dawn turned her tremulous smile back to her sister and then noticed the grinning vampire still holding his mug of blood and shaking his head to clear his ears.

            “Bloody hell, Bit, I think you hit notes that shouldn’t even be possible.”

His happy grin took the sting out of his words and he set his mug down just in time to prevent her hug from knocking it out of his hand.  He hugged her back, smiling past her shoulder at Buffy as he waited for it.  He could tell the instant it hit her – she stiffened in his arms and pulled away slowly.

“Spike?  I thought…how?  When?”  She turned to Buffy, her confusion evident.  “I thought this was evil, unsouled Spike. How does he know me?”

“He’s our Spike, Dawn.  The Powers sent him back to me.  Isn’t that wonderful?  We’re supposed to fix stuff in this dimension so that all the awful things don’t happen.”

“Oh.  Then you…you won’t want to come…well, of course you wouldn’t…“ Dawn’s voice trailed off as she noted the way her sister was clinging to Spike’s hand.  There was silence as each person understood the expectations with which Dawn had come through the portal.  Buffy reached a hesitant hand out, her apologetic “Dawn-“ cut off as Joyce stepped in.

“You’re welcome to stay here, Dawn,” her mother said softly.  “Or, to visit as often as you’d like.  You can have your own room – Buffy and Spike are moving out soon, and there will be lots of space.”

The tall teenager bit her lip, then gave them a watery smile. “Thanks, Mom,” she said, giving the older woman a hug.  “I think visits will be all I can handle. I’m starting college next year and I really can’t see myself going through all that again.”

“Bit –“ Spike’s voice was warm and understanding. “The Powers put us here for a reason. There are things we need to do.  Your world doesn’t need us anymore; got all those bitty slayers to handle whatever comes up, yeah?  Think about all the good we can do here…”

“It’s okay, Spike.  I get it.  I just wasn’t expecting to find you you and I thought all I’d have to do was convince Buffy to stop boinking evil you long enough to come home with me.”  She ignored her sister’s threatening glare and continued, “But she isn’t going to leave the real you. I know that.  And, hey, this is what Willow wanted for her.  For Buffy to be happy.”

At Joyce’s suggestion, they all moved to the living room and Dawn caught Buffy up on what had been going on while she was away.  Spike let his attention wander, perking up only when Dawn mentioned that Xander appeared to have met someone in his journeying around the world collecting new slayers.

“The whelp’s found someone to help him move on, has he? Good on him, then.”  He raised an eyebrow at Buffy and said gruffly, “Prob’ly what you should have done, love.  Found yourself another man, yeah?”

“I didn’t want ‘another man’,” she responded quietly.  “I wanted you – and you weren’t around.”  Her deadly glare reminded him that she was still furious that he had been back and solid for several months without letting her know before he died again, and he immediately regretted bringing it up. 

When he had told her about the amulet and where he’d been while she was mourning him, and how the PTB had given him the choice of joining her or remaining dead, only the fact that he’d chosen her over the version of Heaven they were offering kept her from staking him on the spot.  It was only recently that Buffy had forgiven him for not letting her know about his return, and he had no desire to go back to the strained relations that had followed his confession.

“Right then, Bit. What else do you have to tell us?”  Dawn curled her lip at his obvious plea for help in distracting her sister.

“Not much.  Now that we know that I can do this portal thing, I guess I’ll be practicing and learning more about how to control it.  They’re going to make me an honorary coven member –it’s kinda cool, except that I think it’s just so they can keep an eye on me.”

“I can’t imagine why they think they’d have to do that,” he replied dryly, earning himself another glare.  “Jus’ kidding, Bit.  Know you’re all grown up and talented now, don’t I?”

Buffy broke into their bantering, her tone suddenly serious. “Do you – does the coven know anything about the Buffy and Spike that used to be here?  If they didn’t pop up in your dimension, then where did they go when we came here?”

“If they sent the other me somewhere, I hope they gave him time to get his kit on,” Spike said with a grin.  “Don’t fancy the idea of waking up in some other dimension all starkers and—“

A hard kick from a blushing Buffy stopped him before he could paint a more explicit picture of what non-souled Spike might have been doing when he was replaced.

“Ewwwww, Spike!”  Dawn’s expression left little doubt that she understood what he had been about to say, but then she surprised him by bursting into laughter.  “It’s a good thing I’ve grown up a lot in past couple of years, isn’t it?” she joked.  “Otherwise, I might have been embarrassed by that.”

“Exactly how grown up are you, Bit?” he growled, eyes narrowing.  “And who might I have to kill for it?”

“Back off, big brother,” she said affectionately.  “I can take care of myself now.  I don’t need a fangy chaperone to keep my dates in line.”

“Back to my question,” Buffy interrupted, both because she wanted an answer and because she could see her mother struggling to control herself.

Joyce had gone from the mother of a sixteen-year-old to the mother of an adult woman within a very short span of time; now she was presented with another daughter who obviously was also accustomed to living on her own and making her own decisions.  While she was proud of the self-sufficient young women that her daughters – already she had accepted Dawn as another daughter – had grown into, the mother in her was mourning the fact that she had not been able to watch them develop into these two laughing young women.  She gave Buffy a grateful smile as she settled back to hear more about Dawn’s abilities to see into other dimensions.

Dawn’s eyes grew big.  “I never thought about it!  I was so focused on getting back to you and bringing you home…We can do it, though. I’m sure we can.  They should be able to find you guys – the other you guys – I’ll just need something to use…”

“I wonder if they’re together?”  Buffy mused, almost to herself.

“If they are, I hope she doesn’t stake him-me before she has a chance to find out what a charming bloke I am.”  He waggled his eyebrows at Buffy, pouting when she rolled her eyes with a “sheeeyah”.

“Can you give me something of Buffy’s – that Buffy – to take back with me?  We can use it to focus the seers.  And something of Spike’s if you still have anything.”  She looked at Buffy expectantly.

“I’ll go get something from my closet,” Buffy said, standing up. “But I don’t think I have anything of Spike’s….Oh, wait!”  She ran upstairs, coming down within a few minutes, an old black tee shirt in one hand and a green blouse in the other.

“Here you go,” she said, handing them both to Dawn.  “The shirt’s been washed, but it was his.  And I’ve never worn this blouse, so it should be all good.”

“Okay.  I guess I’d better go stand in the portal space,” Dawn said reluctantly.  “We’re still fine-tuning how long I can stay places and how often I can do this.  I’m pretty sure I can do it as often as I want to.  The next thing is to figure out what’s the smallest amount of blood it takes and to maybe save some so that all I need to do is sprinkle some stored blood and decide where I want to go.”

Buffy watched as her mother’s face blanched at hearing Dawn calmly discussing using her blood to open the portals.  Spike was nodding in agreement, and Buffy knew that her own face showed no surprise at hearing what it took to open the portals. She reminded herself that Joyce had no knowledge of how Glory had used Dawn to open the gateway between dimensions, nor of how Buffy’s sacrifice had closed it.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, giving the frowning woman a light hug. “It’s not as big a deal as you think.”

Joyce gave her a patented “skeptical mom” look, but smiled gratefully anyway.

“I’m sure it isn’t,” she said bravely.  “You can explain it to me later.”

They followed Dawn and Spike into the kitchen, arriving in time to see them exchange another hug and to hear him ask, “So, we’re good, then? You and me?”

“Yeah,” she responded. “We’re good. Buffy explained things to me and…not that I think it was okay…” She gave him a serious glare. “But I understand what happened and I forgive you.”

“Thanks, Bit.  ‘preciate it.”

Joyce reached cautiously into the portal area, staring suspiciously at the shimmering sides before giving Dawn a brief hug.  “Come back any time, Dawn,” she said sincerely.

Dawn smiled her thanks, then reached out to hug Buffy tightly.  “I’ll be back,” she promised. “And I’ll try to find out what’s up with the other you- the other yous,” she corrected herself when Spike raised an eyebrow at her. 

She squeaked, “Oops! Here I go!”  waved once, and with another loud pop, disappeared leaving no trace of herself or the portal.

Spike put his arms around Buffy, and squeezed her gently.  “You alright, pet?” he asked when she didn’t respond right away.  She shook her head abruptly, then leaned into his chest.  “I’m okay.  I just…I miss them all, you know?  I mean, everyone’s here – well, except for Dawn – but they’re different.  They aren’t my friends.  Not yet.”

“They’ll grow into it, love. Just like the other ones did.”

When she didn’t answer, he asked with quiet concern, “Are you sorry you didn’t go back with her?”

“Wha--?  Oh. No.  God, no.  I wouldn’t give you up for anything.  I didn’t mean…”  She searched his face until she was sure that he believed her, then relaxed again.  “I’m fine.  I’m just glad we got to see her again.”

Chapter Four

There was no sound from the basement as Buffy threw some cereal in a bowl and sat down at her small table.  As she spooned the Cheerios into her mouth, her eyes kept darting to the locked door and to the chair still braced against it.  When she finished eating, she gave a sigh and put her bowl in the sink before removing the chair and unlocking the door.

Seems kinda stupid to try to keep him out when I’m not here – it’s not like he couldn’t just walk around and break in a window or something. I hope older me knew what she was doing when she decided to trust him even though he wasn’t her Spike.  I hope I know what I’m doing…

Shrugging off the worry about Spike and his intentions to think about later, she left the house and began the short walk to her job at the local mall.  Malls in this dimension were nothing like those in the California she had come from, but they were still a good place for an underage girl to find a minimum wage job without too many questions being asked.

The entire dimension seemed to be a bit less structured than what Buffy was used to.  In addition to the open acknowledgement of the existence of vampires and demons, no one seemed concerned that she was not in school, nor that she didn’t own the house in which she was living.  Which worked out nicely in terms of her ability to blend in quickly and make a place for herself.  She was a bit puzzled by the fact that everyone who knew what she was had accepted her status as the Slayer without giving any indication that there had been one around before she found herself here. 

It’s not like I go around advertising it, but a lot more people seem to know about me than they did in Sunnydale.  It’s really strange, in a relaxing kind of way…

Until she no longer had to do it, she hadn’t realized exactly how much energy she had expended in her own dimension just maintaining the fiction that she was a normal high school junior. The fact that her mother hadn’t even known what she was, and would have freaked if she did, had pulled on her in ways she’d not really admitted; and, as much as she missed her home and her mother, she was finding it a relief to be living in a place and time that didn’t require her to pretend to be anything but what she was.

She gave the restaurant manager a cheerful wave as she walked in and headed directly for the kitchen. Greeting the chef, a man whom she suspected of being a demon but who was such a wonderful cook that she couldn’t bring herself to challenge him on it, she pulled on her hairnet and apron and got to work lining up the table settings for the lunch crowd.  She carefully wrapped each set of clean silverware in a clean napkin and laid it upon the cart that the waiters would use to make the tables ready for the anticipated lunch crowd.

While she continued the mindless task, she thought back over the previous evening’s events and marveled again at her own easy acceptance of Spike’s story and her curiosity about his soul. 

I’ve got to remember to ask him about that – if he has his soul, like Angel does.  And why he hasn’t talked about Angel.

Absence had done little to diminish Buffy’s schoolgirl crush on the souled vampire and she missed him just as much as she missed her mother and her friends.  Although, she did find herself forgetting occasionally exactly what it felt like to be held and kissed by him, and now had the memory of how Spike’s body had felt the night before to muddle her memories even further.

Just because the other Buffy loves him, doesn’t mean that I have to.  He didn’t actually say she loves him, did he?  He said that the other Spike loves her, but he didn’t say that she loved him back.  Maybe she’s just dating him because Angel…where would Angel go?  He wouldn’t leave me. Would he? He loves me. He said so.  Angel is my boyfriend. I don’t care what this vampire says, or how good-looking he is; he isn’t Angel and he isn’t going to get me to cheat on my boyfriend by telling me that the other Buffy—

Her internal rant was interrupted when the rather tall stack of tableware and napkins began to slide toward the edge of the cart and only her slayer speed prevented the destruction of the previous half-hour’s work.  With a guilty look around to see if anyone had noticed her lack of attention, she spread the table-ready packets out more evenly and pushed the cart out into the main part of the restaurant.

For the rest of the afternoon and early evening, she resolutely kept her mind on her job and off the blond vampire currently occupying the basement of her house.  As soon as her shift was over, and she had eaten one of the chef’s excellent dinners, she took off her work clothes, grabbed the bag that contained her stakes and left the restaurant via the back door; a route which allowed her to check out the alley for lurking vampires before turning toward home.  Since Buffy had begun leaving by the back door, incidents of mall employees disappearing while emptying trash had almost completely stopped. Most nights Buffy took another quick swing down the alley before going home and the unpredictability of her patrols had made the former vampire buffet a place to avoid if at all possible. 

Buffy reached the end of the alley and turned her steps in the direction of her home. She had decided to check on Spike before going out for her nightly patrol and she hastened through the darkness, anxious to catch him before he might leave for the night.  She used her key to open the front door, noticing that the light was on in kitchen and that there were wet footprints in the hallway. She called out as she followed the footprints down the hall and into the kitchen, noting that they led to the now-open basement door.

“Spike?  Are you still here?”

“Yes, pet.”  The vampire’s blond head appeared at the top of the stairs, followed quickly by his body as he entered the kitchen somewhat timidly.  “I hope you don’t mind; I took a shower and borrowed one of your towels.  I’ll put it back soon’s it dries off.

“Uh…no, that’s fine.”  Buffy stammered briefly; not having thought far enough ahead when offering the vampire her basement to think about things like extra towels, soaps and other everyday items.  If asked, she probably would have admitted that she had no idea that vampires even took showers, although common sense told her that Angel must have done so.

Spike cocked his head and looked at her curiously.  “Are you alright, Slayer?  Havin’ second thoughts about sharin’ your home with a vamp?”

“No!  Yes…maybe?”  She scrunched her face up apologetically.  “I’m not used to having anybody else around and I just didn’t think about—it’s nothing,” she concluded with her best fake smile.  “It just takes a little getting used to – sharing my shower with a…a guy.”

“Well, technically, pet, we didn’t share the shower but if you’d like to try that sometime …” His gentle laugh at her indignant “Not even!” made her color that much harder as she realized that he’d been deliberately trying to make her blush.

“Very funny,” she muttered, doing her best to pretend that she exchanged sexual innuendos with men all the time and was just bored with it.

“So, Slayer,” he said briskly, changing the subject abruptly, “what’s the plan for the evening? Spot of violence, maybe?”

She gaped at him, noting the way he was almost bouncing on his toes with barely controlled energy.

            “I’m going to patrol,” she responded stiffly.  “You know, slay vampires, stuff like that?”

            “Well, yeah.  That’s what I meant.  I could help.  Bu- the other Buffy and I worked pretty well together.”

“You want to help me? To slay other vampires?”

“Well, was thinkin’ more about watchin’ your back while you take out the vamps, actually,” he admitted sheepishly.  “But you never know when you might run into a gang of Fyarl demons or something… Come on, Slayer.  Let me go with. Please?”

With his lower lip poking out and the hopeful expression in his eyes, he looked more like a little boy than he did a master vampire and Buffy shook her head in bewilderment.

“I don’t understand you.”

“What’s to understand?  There’s got to be a reason I got dumped here. You, I understand.  Somebody wanted the other you to have a chance to change some…events…that would have happened in that dimension or time, and they kicked you out.   Don’t know why I didn’t get left there, but since I woke up within screaming distance of you taking apart a nest of demons, I’ve got to figure there’s a reason I’m here.”

“What’s that got to do with helping me?”

“Well—“ He looked at her uncertainly. “Don’t you want me to?”  He suddenly appeared embarrassed, and turned his back on her saying gruffly, “I’m sorry, luv. I jus’…” He turned back and smiled at her apologetically.  “I guess I’m not quite used to you not bein’ the one who knows me.  I didn’t mean to force myself on you, Slayer.”

She gawked at him, her mouth hanging open as she tried to absorb what had just happened. A master vampire, older than dirt, has come here from my world and he thinks he’s supposed to help me.  And he’s hurt when he thinks I don’t want him – vampires have feelings? Who knew?  And he has manners, too. None of this was in my non-existent Slayer handbook. When she didn’t respond, but continued to stare into space with her mouth still open, he stepped closer to her and gently touched her chin, pushing her mouth closed.

“Slayer?  Buffy?”

“Wha-?”  She blinked and tried to focus on his face and ignore the way her chin tingled where his finger had touched it so briefly.

“Where’d you go, Slayer?”

She flushed and shook herself.  “I’m sorry, Spike.  It’s just…you…I…Giles never…I’ve never met a vampire like you,” she admitted in a rush.  “I don’t know what to do or say.”

“ ‘s OK, pet.  I understand.  Never would have thought I’d end up offering to help a slayer do anything but have a glorious de...”  At the shocked expression on her face, he quickly back-tracked. “If you think I need remindin’ that I’m a stranger to you, you jus’ let me know, yeah?  I don’t mean to act like we should set up house together - I’m just…it’s hard sometimes to remember that you… Nevermind, pet.  Jus’ tell me to back off when you think you need to, yeah?”

He was still standing where he’d stepped when he touched her chin and she couldn’t control the way her heart pounded at his proximity.

“B…back off,” she whispered, not moving herself.

He frowned and she thought she saw a flash of pain in his eyes before he shrugged and closed down his face.

“Right, Slayer.  Was in your space.  Sorry.”

In spite of his words of apology and understanding, his stiff posture as he moved towards the basement door told her that she had somehow offended him. Before she could decide what, if anything, she wanted to do about it, he disappeared down the stairs, his voice drifting back up to her.

“I’ll jus’ grab my boots and be with you straight away.”

She shrugged, reminding herself that he was a vampire and probably got offended by all sorts of things that she would never understand.  While she waited for him to come back up, she collected her stakes, hiding them around her body everywhere that she could tuck something that size.  She hefted her sword tentatively, then put it down.  If the fact that she was going to have an old vampire watching her back had anything to do with her decision to leave it behind, she carefully ignored the thought.

AN: In the interest of heading off any questions or misconceptions and to avoid answering the same questions over and over, I thought I’d best say a few words about the new dimension.  It is similar to the other two dimensions, in that there are vampires and demons, there are/have been slayers, people speak English in the country in which Buffy found herself, and in many other ways.  However, it is not a duplicate of the first two dimensions; which, if you recall from the first story were identical in pretty much every way except the time frame and those events that Buffy’s presence was changing. This new dimension is much different in several key ways: it is colder, there is no Sunnydale as such, there are no doppelgangers for every character in the old Sunnydale; and those that do appear may or may not be like their counterparts. In other words, it has had a very different history, which has made it very unlike the other two dimensions/worlds in many ways. I’m asking that you have a bit of patience as this world slowly unfolds and trust me to explain the things that might seem puzzling.

Chapter Five

As they walked slowly toward the cemeteries that Buffy had planned to patrol that night, she suddenly remembered the questions she was going to ask him.  She glanced at his expressionless face and wondered if this might not be a bad time to ask him anything.  Although he had quickly returned to the kitchen, shrugging on his coat and nodding towards the door, which he then held open for her, he had been uncharacteristically silent while they walked and Buffy was sure that he was still angry or hurt by her words.

He must have his soul. How else could his feelings get hurt? Vampires don’t have feelings…do they?

“Um…Spike?”

He turned his face towards her and cocked an inquisitive eyebrow, but said nothing.

“Do you—I mean, if you helped me-her, and if you think you were falling in…in love with her, does that mean you have a soul? Like Angel does?”

She’d traveled several more steps before she realized that Spike was no longer beside her, and she stopped to look over her shoulder.  She froze, one hand reaching involuntarily for the stake in her waistband, as she watched the silent snarling her question had evoked.  She backed away cautiously, the stake clutched tightly in her fist as she watched the vampire that she hardly knew struggling to control his demon.  Only when he had gone back to his human face, did she let out the breath she had been holding; but she kept her grip on the stake when she looked into the cold blue chips that were his eyes.

“Listen up, Slayer,” he said slowly. “I’m only going to say this once.  I am nothing like that miserable pillock that you had the misfortune to meet first.  I do not have a soul, and I don’t think I need one – in spite of what the other me may have---“  He stopped himself abruptly and began walking again, his steps forceful and rapid.

Trying to digest what he’d said – both about Angel and about his other self, Buffy remained standing where she was, watching him disappear down the street. When he gave no sign of slowing down and didn’t look back in her direction, she gave herself a little shake and began to jog after him.  By the time she caught up, he was already inside the cemetery gates and had thrown himself into small group of vampires that were clustered around a new grave.

Instead of joining in, Buffy watched as he punched and kicked his way through the vamps, his motions fluid and graceful even as his angry words drifted to her ears.

“Don’t need a bloody soul to love her or anybody else.  And if I had one, it wouldn’t be so loose that the first good shag would knock it out of me.  Don’t care what the other me did to make him want to get one – there’s not a woman in the world worth that kind of pain.”

As he finished speaking, he was twisting the head off the remaining vampire and stood, surrounded by dust and breathing heavily.  Buffy was just opening her mouth to ask him why he was breathing so hard – something that Angel never did – when the soil over the grave erupted and a bewildered fledgling began to crawl out.

“I’ll get this one!” she said eagerly, then hesitated. “If it’s okay with you…I mean,” she added slowly.

“Help yourself, pet,” he said with a small smile. “I think I worked off most of my temper tantrum.”

She returned his smile tentatively, then leaned over the snarling vampire that was still struggling to emerge from the heavy clay soil.

“Are you stuck?” she asked cheerfully.  “Here, let me help you.”

She yanked the confused fledgling out with one hand and pushed the stake through his chest with the other.  As soon as the dust settled, she smiled up at Spike.

“I’ve got to say, there’s something to be said for being this strong – even if I am kinda banged up.”  She ruefully fingered the bite marks on her neck and remembered the big scar on her belly.  She glanced at the ropy flesh on her left palm and made a face.

“They’re just scars, luv. Hard-earned and honestly come by. Try to think of them more as badges of honor.”

“Easy for you to say – you’re a guy. Your scar is sexy.  Mine are just…scars.”

As she realized what she’d said, she felt the heat flood her face and hoped that it was too dark for him to see her blush.  His rich chuckle told her it was a vain hope and she sighed as she waited for him to say something that would make her blush even more.  To her surprise, he just continued to laugh softly, finally saying quietly, “To another warrior, yours are sexy too, pet.  Trust me.”

She tipped her head to one side and looked at him speculatively.

“Wot?”

“You just keep surprising me,” she admitted.  “I was expecting something more…innuendoish.”

He shrugged.  “I’m trying to remember that you aren’t the girl I left behind – much as you might look and sound and smell like her.”

 “Smell  like her?  Ewwww, Spike!”

He cocked his head at her.  “Vampires have a very highly developed sense of smell, pet.  Surely your watcher – or the bloody great poof – has told you that?”

It was his first voluntary mention of Angel and Buffy seized on it immediately, ignoring the little voice that was asking how she knew he was referring to her vampire boyfriend.

“Angel would never smell me!  That’s just…just…gross!”

“Whatever you say, Slayer.” 

He turned away, refusing to discuss his grandsire with the girl who clearly still thought she knew him well.  He began walking farther into the cemetery, hoping to come across something else upon which to take out the emotions that Buffy continued, so innocently, to provoke.  She trotted after him, tugging on his sleeve when he didn’t turn around right away, then dropping her hand immediately when he did stop.

“Wait, Spike,” she said softly. “I wanted to talk to you tonight.”

“About?”

“About Angel – and why…why you didn’t say anything about him when you were telling me about Sunnydale.  Where—did something happen to him?” The fear in her eyes and voice caused him to soften his automatic growl and he shook his head slowly.

“Got nothing to say ‘bout him, pet.  We had a bit of run-in, the Slayer put him in his place, and not too long after that, I got yanked out of Sunnyhell. I guess he’s still there.”  His face darkened as he realized that he’d left Buffy in the same town as his grandsire who was not likely to give her up easily.  His long string of curses went on until he noticed this Buffy fingering her stake again and he stopped with a sigh.  “Sorry, luv.  I just realized that if I’m not there, she’s going to have to face that big git by herself.”

“What do you mean ‘face him’?  It’s Angel! He loves me…doesn’t he?” Her voice got small as she took in the sympathetic expression on the vampire’s face.  “He does!” she insisted, stepping closer to him and thumping on his chest with her fist.  “He does.  He said so…he loves me…”

Suddenly, she was pounding on his chest and crying as the accumulated emotions of the past year overwhelmed her iron control.  Hesitantly, he put his arms around her slender body and began rubbing soothing circles on her back as he murmured insincere but calming platitudes about how it was all going to be all right.  He made no attempt to hold her any tighter, nor did he give in to the impulse to drop kisses on her head as the familiar scent filled his nostrils.

Not my Buffy.  This one doesn’t love any version of me. She’s in love with Angelus, and nothing I can say or do is gonna change that.  Know her too well to think she’s gonna give him up that easily.

“Oh, god,” she sniffled, pulling away until he dropped his arms. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  I’ve been here all this time and I never cried. Not once.”

“ ‘s alright, pet. Bit much to take in, innit? Knowing that you might not be gettin’ back like you’d been thinkin’.  I’m getting right used to having the Slayer snottin’ all over me.”  He smiled to assure her that he wasn’t complaining and was gratified to see her face clear up.

“Did she – the other Buffy – does she cry a lot?”

“Some,” he admitted.  “Seemed like everything I said or did for a while there set her off.  Was starting to get a complex...”

“And now here I am crying all over you, too,” she said, flushing with embarrassment – both for herself and the other Buffy. Trying to change the subject, she asked,  “What did she cry about?”

“Um...me, mostly.  I mean, not me, but the me that she...that she was in love with. I kept remindin’ her of him and she...it made her sad.”

“You couldn’t make her happy?” she asked in all innocence, frowning when he laughed heartily before answering.

“Did m’ best. luv.  I did my best. I think I was...” He shook himself. “Doesn’t matter, does it? I’m not there any more either. I just hope...I hope she doesn’t think I left because I didn’t want to be there - with her.”

“I’m sure she knows you didn’t, Spike. Didn’t you tell me you were with her when you got yanked?”

He nodded, unwilling to trust himself not to tell her just how much he had been with Buffy when he’d disappeared.

“Well, then, she knows you didn’t leave on purpose.  I guess she’ll miss you –just like I miss Angel, but she’ll know it wasn’t your fault.”

Something about her innocent confidence and the way she calmly talked about missing Angel wrenched at him and he had to force a smile as he agreed with her.

“I’m sure you’re right, pet.  It’s not like she doesn’t already know what it’s like to be one place one minute and somewhere else the next.”

The lengthy discussion and Buffy’s tears had taken their toll on any urge either of them had to do more slaying, and, without discussion, they turned and began to walk out of the cemetery.  Buffy avoided any mention of Angel for the rest of the night, instead grilling Spike all through her usual after-slaying meal about Willow and Xander and anyone else he could remember meeting.  He did his best to fill her in, not having really paid that much attention to the other teenagers around her and struggling to remember their names and to find something to tell her about each of them.

He did remember that Buffy had blamed Willow for doing a spell that sent her back into her sixteen-year-old body and he talked a bit about Willow’s growing magical abilities, surprised when Buffy rolled her eyes at hearing that Willow was getting more into magic.

“What’s wrong, pet? I haven’t even begun to tell some of the things she did...”

“I don’t want to know.” She put her hands over her ears.  “After that mess with Amy’s mother last year, I can’t believe she would want to do anything magical. Willow’s smart! She’s going to be President some day.  She doesn’t need magic.”

She lowered her hands and stared at him intently.  “But, if I did want to know, what could you tell me?  Do you know everything that’s going to happen in Sunnydale?  Am I...is Angel...will we...?” Her voice trailed off as she remembered how he always reacted to hearing Angel’s name.

“I couldn’t tell you much, Slayer.”  Already she knew him well enough to know that calling her ‘Slayer’ meant that he was angry, but his face showed only a quiet resignation.  “And I don’t think I should, even if I could. Buffy – the other Buffy –“

“Your Buffy,” she put in quietly, surprised when he shook his head.

“No, luv.  She’s not mine – think the soddin’ Powers-that-like-to-bugger-people have made that pretty clear by yanking me away jus’ when we were...” He stopped to regroup, then continued, “She’s the one I know best, yeah; but we really didn’t have that much time together, and she spent most of it drivin’ me crazy with all her “I know you” bollocks.”  He grinned faintly at the memory of all the times she’d teased him by knowing things about him that even Dru hadn’t known.

“She didn’t really tell me very much about what had happened to her. And she’s doin’ her best to keep some of it from happenin’ this time around, so I don’t think I should tell you the things I do know.  Not unless I have to for some reason,” he added, seeing the glare building on her face. 

He thought about Joyce and the fact that it was very possible she was going to be dead within a few years and shook his head again. 

“Some things you don’t need to know – they aren’t gonna happen here, in this world; and they aren’t gonna happen in that one if the Slayer can prevent them.  No point in making yourself unhappy...or...or worried for no reason.”

She made no response, her face tight and closed as she focused on finishing her food.  Spike watched carefully as her expression softened, breathing an unnecessary sigh of relief when her shoulders relaxed and she looked up at him with a small smile.  Cleary she had come to some sort of decision as she took up the thread of the conversation with no acknowledgment of her lengthy silence.

“So, tell me about the other you, then.  The one that old me is in love with. Where do you think he is?”

“Hell,” he replied shortly, then relented. “Maybe not Hell, if what the slayer tells me I – he – did for her.”

She frowned in confusion and he realized that he had only told her that the future him was dust – not how or why he got that way.  With an embarrassed shrug, he said quickly, “He wore some sort of amulet for her – to be her ‘champion’ and it allowed him to help her defeat the First Evil and its army. Burned me – him – to a crisp in the process.  Bet that stung like a bitch,” he added, muttering more to himself than to her.

“You helped save the world?”

The big-eyed admiration on her face was making him warm inside until she followed it with, “Future you must have a soul then! Just like An-“ She caught herself as his face hardened again.

“Yeah,” he gritted out. “But I went and got mine – earned it for her. Didn’t get it shoved into me like your precious Angel – and mine didn’t go anywhere.  It wasn’t a curse that could be broken by a---“ He broke off at the confused horror on her face.

“A-Angel lost his soul?  It isn’t permanent?”

“It’s over and done, Slayer.  Don’t worry yourself about it.  Your little red-headed witch friend put it back before he could do too much damage.  He’s all back to his broody self now.”

“How...” Ignoring the way Spike’s face had shut down, Buffy persisted, “...how did he lose it? What happened?”

“Seems like there’s a little escape clause – if the bloody bastard gets too happy, the soul pops right out. Just like that.  Bit of an oversight on the part of the gypsies, innit?”

“How awful for him!” Sympathetic tears filled Buffy’s eyes as she thought about what it meant.  “He can never be happy?  Poor Angel!”

            “Yeah, well, it’s not all that wonderful for the people around him either, pet. Don’t waste too many tears on it.  Last thing in the world you or anyone else wants is for that nasty bugger to get real happy.  Trust me,” he added as she frowned dubiously.

            “What made him so happy that he lost his soul?  Didn’t the other Buffy know how to keep it from happening?”

            “She thought she did,” he responded gruffly.  “Turns out she’s not the only---“ He stopped himself with a visible effort.  “You know what, Slayer? I think I’ve had about all the reminiscin’ about my grandsire that I can handle for one night.  What say we go get some ice cream for you before we go home?”

            Still mulling over the things he’d said, as well as the things he just as clearly hadn’t said, she nodded dumbly and followed him to the door. This time, when Spike left some money on the table, the proprietor just nodded his thanks and waved them out the door.

Chapter Six.

Buffy lapped at her ice cream cone, peering at Spike out of the corner of her eye as he wrapped his tongue around the one he had bought for himself. What a strange vampire. He eats fries and ice cream cones...and...oh my god! People.  He eats people! How could I forget what he is?  Just because he isn’t killing me, doesn’t mean he....oh my god..

            Spike heard her heart rate increase and the small gasp she gave as she remembered that the man walking at her side was a creature that lived on the blood of living humans.  He cocked his head at her, then took a quick glance around to see if she had somehow sensed a danger that he hadn’t noticed.  When he saw nothing to blame for her obvious distress, he sighed and stopped.

            “What is it now, pet?”

            “Wha-what do you mean?”  Her voice was barely a squeak and her eyes flew open even wider.

            “I mean, Slayer, what the bleedin’ hell has suddenly got your knickers in a twist? Your heart’s poundin’ like a trip hammer an’ you’re looking at me like I just grew curly horns out of the front of my head.  What happened?”

            Instead of answering his question, she responded with one of her own.

            “Where did you get the money you spent tonight?” she asked tightly. “Where’d you get it, Spike?”

            “From a poker game last night. What’s wrong with you?  Got something against gamblin’?  Cause if you do, we’re gonna have some prob—“

            “You didn’t kill somebody for it?”  The relief and desire to believe him quivered in her voice and he was once again reminded that this Buffy was, unlike the other, much younger than she appeared to the eye.  He shook his head in sudden understanding.

            “I haven’t killed anybody, luv,” he said softly.  “Know better than that, don’t I? Not saying I wouldn’t if I had to, but got better sense than to start snackin’ on the neighbors while I’m livin’ in the Slayer’s cellar.”

            “What are you eating, then?”  Suspicion was still visible in her gaze.  Even though she’d gotten past her initial shock at finding a vampire who wasn’t trying to kill her and who now claimed not to have killed anyone lately, her deeply engrained beliefs about vampires still colored her every reaction to his actions.

            “Haven’t really addressed that issue yet,” he mumbled, quickly filling his mouth with ice cream.

            “We’re addressing it NOW,” she said firmly, planting her feet and sticking her lip out stubbornly.  “Before you go another step.”

            He waved a hand at his full mouth and tried to look apologetic, but she just glared at him and tapped her foot impatiently.  With a sigh, he swallowed the melted ice cream and tried to answer her truthfully.

            “Last night wasn’t a problem – the bar where I found the poker game was havin’ a special on O neg....” His voice trailed off as he watched her eyes narrow.  “More than you needed to know, I guess,” he admitted with a small smile.

            “And tonight?”

            “Like a dog with a bone,” he muttered under his breath, as he started walking again, leaving her to chase after him.

            “What?  What did you say?”

            “I said, ‘I forgot what a stubborn bint you are’,” he growled, tossing the rest of his ice cream cone into the street and whirling to face her.

            “Look, Slayer. I am what I am.  I have to have blood to live, so unless you’re volunteering to be my midnight snack every night...” He tried hard not to look as if he were excited by that prospect, but the look on her face told him he was failing miserably.   “I won’t kill, alright?  I’ll look for some evil-doer of some sort and just put the fear of...fear of Spike into him, alright?  And I’ll ask around. Place as open about vamps as this one is has to have places you can buy blood. I’ll find out where they are and you can stock the fridge, yeah?”

            “Angel drinks pigs’ blood from the butcher,” she said more meekly than she’d intended, already flinching away when the anticipated snarl ripped through the air between them.

            The vampire turned away and began walking in the opposite direction without a backward glance.

            “Where are you going?”

            “Out.”

            “When will you...will you...should I Ieave the door unlocked?”

            There was no response from the rapidly disappearing vampire, and she yelled after him, “If you don’t answer me, I’m locking you out!”

            “Go ahead!” he yelled back.

            “Fine! I will!”

            “Good!”

            “Fine!”

            She had only stomped a few more steps towards her home when she heard him call her name so softly she barely heard it. She stopped, but didn’t turn around to face him.

            “Just go home, Slayer.  Go to bed.” His voice sounded more tired than angry now, and she nodded in reply before beginning to walk again.  When she got to her front walk, she finally turned and looked, but there was no sign of the blond head she’d half-expected to see.

            Nor did she see the two humans hiding in the shadows of the alley next to the office building on one side of her house.  Pulling out her key, she opened the door, automatically locking it behind her after she stepped into the house.  She stood in the kitchen for a long minute, staring at the door to the basement and wondering if she should go down to check that door.  Finally she gave a good imitation of a growl and yanked open the door at the top of the stairs, muttering about ‘stupid vampires’ as she stomped down the stairs and over to the outside door.  She noticed that Spike had made himself a bed near one wall of the room and cringed when she thought about his trying to sleep on cold concrete while she had a perfectly good couch in the living room.  Then she shrugged and reminded herself that he was a vampire.

He probably sleeps in a crypt or something.  He doesn’t need a bed.

            She saw that he had locked the outside door, and, after a moment’s hesitation, she quietly unlocked the door and went back upstairs.  Within ten minutes she was in bed and well on her way to being asleep.  Outside, two sets of eyes noted the location of the last light to go out, as well as the location of all the windows and doors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Spike’s anger took him swiftly back to the area of town where he’d found the demon bar and he slammed his way in, snarling his order to the bartender and throwing himself into a booth that became empty as soon as it was clear that he was planning to sit there.  When the waitress reluctantly approached with his O neg and a bottle of Jack Daniels, he forced himself to smile at her.

            “Sorry, luv, didn’t mean to frighten you.  You know I’d never hurt anything as pretty as you are.”  He gave her a wink and watched as she relaxed and smiled back at him

            “You didn’t scare me,” she said quickly.  “I like forceful men.” 

            “You don’t say,” he drawled, looking her up and down again.  He toyed briefly with allowing the obviously willing vampire to provide him with an evening’s entertainment, as well as a place to sleep away the next day, then sighed in disgust.

Didn’t take much to turn me into a nancy-boy again, did it? Couple of shags with the Slayer’s warm body and suddenly another vamp just doesn’t do it for me. No sense not keepin’ my options open, though.

            “I’ll keep that in mind, pet,” he responded with a leer.  “Maybe one of these evenin’s we’ll see just how forceful you like it...”

            Hope and disappointment flitted across her face as she gave him his drink, leaning forward to be sure that he got a good look at her cleavage and he licked his lips appreciatively before tucking a bill between her ample breasts. He allowed his finger to trail up to her neck, smiling when she shivered.

Oh yeah.  Got a place to stay now, if I need one. The Big Bad is still in the house.

            That thought reminded him that he’d left Buffy unsure if she should expect him or not, and instead of following up on the open invitation in the eager vampire’s eyes, he turned her around and smacked her on her ass, saying, not unkindly, “I believe you’ve got some other customers over there, luv.  Best see to them, yeah?”

            He quickly mixed the blood with a substantial amount of the whiskey and gulped it down. The immediate improvement in the way he felt made it clear that he was going to have to find a good meal soon or risk becoming weak.  He had no idea what Buffy thought he was doing while he was out, but no matter how angry it made her, he knew that he was going to need a steady source of blood – and it wasn’t going to be from a pig. ‘Not if I have anything to say about it,’ he grumbled to himself, ignoring the little voice that was telling him that he’d probably do whatever Buffy wanted.

            After checking his wallet, he decided it wasn’t going to be necessary to find another poker game just yet, and he relaxed back into his seat to survey the room.  He got a quick smile and a nod from a demon that he remembered from the card game the night before. One that he knew was from a peaceful and friendly species.  So peaceful and friendly that he recalled Buffy had known and liked one of them back in Sunnydale.  He nodded back, reluctant to give up his image by smiling, even though it would be very useful to have an acquaintance who could fill him in on this world. 

            The decision was taken out of his hands as the friendly, loose-skinned demon took his nod as permission to join him.  Carrying his drink with him, he walked over to Spike’s booth and sat down with a cheerful, “Nice to see you again. Did you come back to give us a chance to win back our money?”

            Spike gave a lazy smile and replied, “You sure you’re ready for another round of ‘let’s make Spike rich?’”  He studied the demon’s friendly face and tried to remember his name.

            “I’m Clem.”  The other demon took care of the problem, extending his large, scaly hand and waiting expectantly for Spike to respond.

            “Yeah, Clem. I remembered,” he muttered, giving the proffered hand a quick shake before anyone could catch him being civil.

            “No, you didn’t,” Clem responded cheerfully. “But that’s okay.  I’m used to it.  It’s just as well, sometimes.  Keeps me off the radar.”  At Spike’s inquisitive look, he added, “You do know we have a slayer here now, don’t you?  Do you know what a slayer is?”

            “Do I--?” Spike sputtered and growled, before subsiding into a, “Yeah, ‘course I know what a slayer is.  Killed two of ‘em, haven’t I?”

            The demon just blinked at him, subtle disappointment flickering across his features as he thought about what Spike had said.

            “You must be older than you look,” Clem said carefully. “What with there not having been any slayers around for hundreds of years...”

Bollocks! How do I get out of this one? Spike looked back, having no trouble meeting Clem’s eyes firmly.

            “I’m not from around here,” he admitted honestly. “Things are a bit different where I come from.”

            “There are slayers?  I thought they were extinct! No one that I know of has seen or heard of one.”

            “Well, there’s not but one at a time,” Spike explained quickly.  “But as soon as you off one of the little bints, another pops up somewhere else in the world to take her place.”

            “Oh.” Clem’s expression said that he was giving Spike the benefit of the doubt, but still had his suspicions.  “I guess that explains why we have one now, then, huh?”

            “Probably.” Spike shrugged nonchalantly.  “Guess the Powers That Be felt there was need here.” He paused to take another drink, then, just as casually he asked, “What can you tell me about this one?  Is she anything special?”

            “Oh my, yes!” Clem’s face lit up before he remembered that he was speaking about the sworn enemy of all vampires and demons.  “I mean, she’s really made a difference in this town.  Nobody’s been able to defeat her yet.”

            “That good, huh?” Spike tried to look mildly interested.  “Maybe I’ll have to look the bint up – see if she’s up to a bit of a scrap with me.”

            “She’s very, very good,” Clem said, quickly adding, as Spike’s face darkened, “Not that I’m saying you couldn’t kill her, mind you.  Just that she...”

            “She...?”

            The demon shrugged uncomfortably.  “It’s actually a lot nicer here than it used to be.  With the Slayer living here.  Things are quieter, you know?  A guy doesn’t have to worry about being robbed if he has a good night at poker, or that a bunch of stupid vampires – no offense! – will kick him out of his rightfully owned cave...”

            Spike cocked his head at the embarrassed demon. “So, you like the chit, then?”

            “I wouldn’t go so far as to say I like her,” Clem said quickly.  “But she seems...nice. In a ‘she hasn’t tried to kill me’, kinda way.  And, she got me my cave back,” he mumbled into his glass.

            Signaling for another round of drinks for them both, Spike leaned back in his seat and said, with his first genuine smile, “So, what else can you tell me about this place, Clem?”

Chapter Seven

Restored by several glasses of less-than-fresh but still tasty blood, Jack Daniels and a head full of information about the town and country in which he’d found himself, Spike was in a pretty good mood as he wended his way back to the slayer’s house.  His good mood lasted only until he got to the basement door and saw that it was standing ajar. 

            Entering cautiously, he extended his senses and quickly picked up on the extra heartbeats coming from the floor above.  He could hear Buffy’s calm resting heart rate that told him she was still asleep.  The rapid pounding of the other two hearts was all he needed to know that they had too much adrenaline pumping through their systems to be on any kind of legitimate errand.  He was making his stealthy way up the stairs to the also ajar kitchen door, when there was a crash and Buffy’s heart rate sped up.

            Forgoing stealth, he took the rest of the stairs in one leap, making it to the hallway just in time to see a man come flying out of the Slayer’s bedroom, his body making a satisfying thump as it hit the wall.  Stepping over the semi-conscious man, he followed the sound of Buffy’s voice to where she just rising from the floor, the look on her face promising immediate retribution to the stoutly built young man staring from the blackjack in his hand to the still-conscious slayer in bewilderment.

            “You are in big trouble, Mister,” she hissed, dodging another swipe of his arm and kicking him in the stomach.  “I can’t believe you hit me with that thing.  I am so going to kick your ass...”

            Her voice trailed off as Spike burst through the doorway, his amber gaze going from her to the assailant and back to her.

            “You alright, luv? Can I help?”

“Are you hungry?”

            “I could eat” He smiled around his fangs, enjoying the scent of fear now rolling off the man just struggling to his feet.  Buffy had turned on the bedside lamp and Spike’s vampire features were clearly visible. She waved her hand towards the hallway and said casually, “I’ve got this one – help yourself.”

            She yanked the unfortunate man to his feet, and began to punch him, punctuating her efforts with comments about how lucky he was to be on the receiving end of her anger and not Spike’s.

            “Cause, I like, you know, don’t usually kill humans?  But, Spike, he’s awful mean – pure evil, you know?  I’ll bet your friend is really sorry he jumped into my bed...”

            A guttural snarl from the hallway told her that Spike had heard the comment and correctly guessed what the intruder’s intentions had been.  A muffled shriek from the hall was evidence that the vampire was more than willing to mete out the punishment deserved.

            Dragging the now unconscious, and much larger, man behind her, Buffy stepped into the hall – intending to stop Spike before he completely drained her other assailant.  To her surprise, he had already stopped feeding, holding the terrified man in one hand and wiping his mouth with the other.

            Buffy gave him a small smile of acknowledgment and asked brightly, “What do you think, Spike? Throw them out the front door – or drop them out the bedroom window?”

            He gave an appreciative chuckle and nodded towards the front door.

            “Let’s put ‘em in the street, Slayer.  With a bit of luck, something big will run over them before they get up.”

            Leaving Spike to drag the two semi-conscious men out to the curb, Buffy opened the front door and gestured gracefully, stepping aside so that he could move past her with his burdens.  She followed him to the end of the sidewalk and watched dispassionately as he tossed first one, then the other, into the middle of the street.

            He walked after the groaning men and bent over them as they lay sprawled on the asphalt.  “If I ever see either one of you wankers anywhere near here, you are going to suffer very slow and excruciatingly painful deaths. Is that clear?”  His whispered threat was hissed through his fangs and both men nodded in a suitably terrified fashion.

            Without waiting for more of an answer, he turned his back and joined Buffy, following her now-shivering body back to the house.  He closed the door behind him and hesitated when she went directly to her room, only to sigh with relief when she immediately came back out, now wrapped in a blanket.

            “Let me see that,” he said gruffly when her hand went to her head and she winced in pain.  He parted the hair and found a small cut on her head, sitting atop a rapidly growing lump.  Leading her into the kitchen, he gently pushed her toward one of the chairs, then got a wet paper towel and began carefully blotting up the small amount of blood that had soaked into her hair. 

            The scent of her blood, so identical to the other Buffy’s, went straight to his cock, and he had to turn aside quickly before she could notice.

After an attempted rape, I doubt she wants any reminders that I’m just as male as those wankers are.

            He pulled some ice cubes from the refrigerator, wrapped them in another paper towel and carefully set the make-shift cold pack on the back of her head.  He used his own now cold hand to calm his cock, pressing against it until the icy temperature had made it relax.  When he felt comfortable facing Buffy, he sat down in the other chair and raised his eyebrows at her.

            “How’d those gits get the drop on you, Slayer?”

            She grimaced and said with a growl in her voice, “My spidey senses only work for vampires – humans don’t set anything off.  Usually I would hear somebody breaking—“ 

            He interrupted her with a vicious snarl that she quickly realized was aimed at himself.

            “You didn’t hear them because the basement door was unlocked,” he said slowly when he had gotten himself under control.  “This was my fault.  I wasn’t here and you had to leave a door unlocked.” 

            She studied his face for minute, then reached forward and touched his hand lightly.

            “It’s no biggie, Spike. I’ll get another key made tomorrow and you can just use the front door like I do.  I can go back to keeping the basement door locked – we can even put one of the shelves in front of it or something.  It isn’t going to happen again.”

            “Bloody right, it isn’t!” he said with another growl.  He didn’t move, waiting for her to notice that she had left her hand resting upon his. When she did, pulling it back quickly and blushing, he stood up and put the hand in his pocket, as though protecting the warm spot on it.   “That’s the last time I’m leavin’ you alone here,” he went on, ignoring her frown.  “Was a bloody stupid thing to do – what help can I be if I’m off drinkin’ and—“

            “Spike!”  The Slayer’s voice interrupted his self-flagellation.  When she had his attention, she spoke firmly.  “I’ve been living here by myself for over a year.   This is NOT your fault, and it’s not your job to babysit me. I’m the Slayer, for cripe’s sake. You know – superpowers, stuff like that?”

            “The Slayer doesn’t kill humans,” he grumbled, trying to look suitably chastened even while he argued. “I’m just sayin’, it could be helpful to have somebody around what doesn’t have those reservations...”

            Buffy sighed and shook her head, wincing when the ice pack slid off her cut. The vampire’s hand shot out, catching the bundle before it could hit the floor and handing it back to her.  She smiled her thanks, putting it back on her head and holding it still with one hand.  Then she sighed again and went back to what she’d been about to say.

            “I’m not going to let you kill people just because you don’t like them – or because they’ve tried to hurt me – so just get over that idea.” She glared at him to emphasize her words, then frowned delicately. “Come to think of it, you didn’t even try to kill that guy, did you?  I thought I’d have to pull you off him, but I didn’t.”

            “I’m not totally stupid, pet,” he said with a sheepish grin. “I knew you didn’t mean it when you said I could eat him. Got to tell you, though, when you said he’d been on top of you, his life did flash before my eyes...”

            She smiled in spite of herself. Sounding very much like her older self for a minute, she said with sudden insight, “I’m never going to have a boyfriend, am I?”

            He looked at her with a puzzled expression, then realized what she was implying and laughed, shrugging with embarrassment.

            “If it comes up...and I hope it does, luv,” he hastened to assure her.  “If it does, I promise not to bare m’fangs at anybody you bring home.  Not unless they give me reason to, anyway,” he added almost under his breath.

            If either of them noticed their casual assumption that the vampire was going to be part of her life from now on, they didn’t mention it.

            “Somehow, I don’t find that nearly as reassuring as you meant it to be,” she huffed at him.  The good humor went out of her expression as she remembered that she had a boyfriend who was now free to begin dating another her, while she was trapped in a dimension that had yet to provide anything in the way of a social life.  “Not that it probably matters,” she sighed. “I don’t even know how to meet boys in this world.  It’s not like I can go back to school somewhere.”

            Spike studied her defeated face, torn between sympathy for the young woman who had been ripped out of her as-close-to-normal as a slayer could expect life, and gratitude that she was away from his grandsire’s influence. The other Buffy had told him enough about her life, and her relationship with his other self, that he could guess how much of their troubled past could be laid at the door of Angel’s twisted information about vampires and souls.  Perhaps, without that confirmation of the Council’s teachings, this Buffy would be able to look at him with a less prejudiced eye.  Already, the fact that she trusted him indicated that she was not as heavily indoctrinated in humans/good, demons/bad, as her older self had been for years. 

            He shook off visions of a very unlikely life of domestic bliss with a somewhat older Buffy, and, instead, tried to come up with a way to give her more of a life.

            “Tell you what, pet,” he said casually.  “You try to find out where young people go for fun around here, and I’ll take you there one night, yeah?  Give you a chance to mingle and maybe meet some people your age?  Would you like that?”

            Her face lit up in a way that he hadn’t seen yet.  One look at it, and he was lost. 

Bloody hell! I could become addicted to that look.  Would do just about anything to make it happen again. 

            He came back to himself when he realized that Buffy was talking, the excitement in her voice was contagious as she rattled on about going shopping for something to wear and which of the clubs that she already knew about would be the easiest to get in to.  Her face fell again when she remembered that she had no ID – fake or otherwise.

            “I’m too young,” she almost wailed.  “They won’t let me in!”

            Spike laughed at her, then stepped closer again, tipping her chin up and trying not to stare at the plump lower lip that was creeping out in the pout with which he was already so familiar.

            “Listen to me, luv, and don’t take this the wrong way, alright?” He waited for her curious nod before continuing. “You’re not wearin’ the face and body of a little girl any more.  Not that there’s anything wrong with this one-“ he hastened to reassure her, “but it’s obviously an adult.  You show up dressed like a grown up, with an escort who is clearly not a kid, and nobody’s gonna ask to see ID – they’re jus’ gonna wave you on through ‘cause they’ll know that you’ll be lighting up the whole room.”

            “R...really?”  Once again, as it had the day before, her skin tingled where his finger lingered on her chin.

            “Really,” he answered firmly, dropping his hand and moving away. “I promise you.”

            Smothering the bolt of disappointment when he was no longer touching her, Buffy nodded her head.  “Ok, then. I’m going to hold you to that promise.  And I’m going to go shopping with my next paycheck!”

            “That’s the spirit, luv.  Now take those pretty eyes off to get some more sleep. It’s going to be morning before you know it.”

            Buffy looked at the clock on the stove and groaned.  “Oh, you’re right.  I’m going to be dead today!”

            “Not if I have anything to say about it.” He smiled as he watched her walk out of the kitchen.  “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

His voice was only a whisper as he repeated his vow to himself while descending the stairs to his own bed. He closed and locked the basement door – sliding the remains of an old work bench in front of it to ensure that anyone coming in that way in the future would have to make enough noise to wake Buffy up.  He wrapped himself in his blanket and stretched out, allowing the approaching dawn to send him into a deep sleep.

Chapter Eight

            Within the week, they had settled into a routine of sorts – Buffy rising in time to go to work until early evening – Spike meeting her at the restaurant or at the mall entrance and accompanying her on her patrol rounds.  They always stopped to eat at the same diner where the owner now nodded to Spike as cheerfully as he greeted Buffy. 

            It took a full month of being escorted everywhere she went, before Buffy lost her temper and stopped outside her house, stamping her foot for emphasis as she told the vampire to “Go do something with yourself!  You’re driving me crazy!”

            She regretted her words immediately when she caught the pain flashing across his face - pain that was immediately replaced with righteous anger.

            “I’m just tryin’ to keep you safe, you bloody ungrateful biich!” he snarled.  He’d been enjoying his evenings with her – either watching her fight if she was facing vampires, or joining in to help if she ran into more than one demon. Their quiet talks while she ate her evening meal, and the leisurely walks home had gone a long way to ease his anger at the PTB for pulling him away from the Buffy that he’d come to care so much about.  That they apparently weren’t as enjoyable for this Buffy as they were for him had never occurred to him, and he hated the way that thought made his chest ache.

            Even as she rued her harsh words, Buffy reacted to his anger and snapped back at him.

            “We’ve already had this conversation!  I’m the Slayer.  I don’t need to be protected. I am the protector, you moron.  I swear, you’re worse than Angel—“

            His grandsire’s name had no sooner left her mouth than she knew that she had just made things worse.  His eyes first darkened, then shone with an amber light as his demon came to the fore.  Without another word to her, he whirled, coat flaring, and began to stride rapidly in the direction of the demon part of town.  He was out of sight before she could even begin to get out the words of apology that trembled on her lips.  She stared down the empty street – wondering if she should go after him – before setting her mouth firmly and marching up to her front door.

            She unlocked and opened it, slamming it firmly behind her when she was in.  Dropping her jacket on the floor and ignoring the stakes that clattered out of the pockets, she walked into the small living room and threw herself onto the couch, glaring at the old TV that stared silently back at her - a mute reminder that, after a year of loneliness, she had actually been enjoying the vampire’s company every night and hadn’t really meant what she said.

Spike had “liberated” the television set from a vampire gang that, after looting a victim’s home, had the misfortune to run into him and the Slayer.  At his insistence that they had no way of knowing where it came from, and that its former owner was undoubtedly now dead, she gave in, allowing him to bring the television back to the house and set it up in the living room.  She had even allowed him to rearrange the meager furniture in the room so that he could watch television in the daytime without fear of the sun’s rays that slanted through the room’s windows.

            She liked the hyperactive vampire, and, if she was being honest with herself, she could easily see why her older version might have fallen in love with him.  Aside from the fact that he clearly admired her more than either of them was willing to admit to, and that he was both a good storyteller and a good listener, she couldn’t deny the way her pulse sped up whenever he was close enough to touch. 

I can see that if I wasn’t in love with Angel – which I am! Totally. – that it would be easy to fall for a hottie like Spike.  I mean besides the eyes and those cheekbones, and that body...  But, I am. In love with Angel.  Just because I haven’t seen him in a long time, doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten him.  Spike’s just going to have to get over this getting pissed off every time I say Angel’s name.

            She resolutely ignored the fact that it wasn’t so much that she had said Angel’s name, as that she had been comparing Spike to him that had set the vampire off.  Telling herself that she had done nothing wrong, and ignoring the sneering little voice in her head that was saying “Oh, yeah?”, she locked the front door, picked up her stakes and her jacket and went to get ready for bed.

            When she emerged from the bathroom after brushing her teeth, she stared irresolutely at the front door, before sighing and putting a chair in front of it.  The chair would in no way impede someone’s entry, but it would make a clatter when it was pushed away.  She then got into bed, promising herself that she would not spend the night listening for the sound of a key in the lock, or of the chair being slid out of the way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The vampire raged through the streets, only his speed preventing him from destroying everything in his path.  For a full month he had been subsisting almost entirely on the pigs blood with which Buffy had stocked the refrigerator; he’d had nothing alcoholic to drink, had done no fighting except what was needed to help her, hadn’t played a single hand of poker, nor had he been able to follow up on any of the things Clem had told him about life in this dimension.  Not to mention, with his last sight most nights being Buffy’s lithe body disappearing into her bedroom, he had become much better acquainted with his left hand that he would have liked.

If he hadn’t found the TV, he was sure he would have been going crazy himself – and only that realization allowed him to slow down and analyze what Buffy had said.

If he was being honest with himself, he could admit that he’d probably been smothering her.  After being on her own for almost a year, the fact that she’d had no time to herself and not much privacy, had undoubtedly been more of a strain on her than he’d realized.  In his zeal to prevent another incident like the one he’d interrupted a month ago – an event that he had to admit was unlikely – he had given neither one of them any room to breathe – or to just be alone.

Only the pain he still felt at the way she had rejected his company, and the comparison to his hated grandsire, kept him from turning around and going back – an apology on his lips.  In spite of being more understanding about her feelings, he couldn’t overcome his reaction to her harsh words. He walked into the demon bar with a scowl on his face that sent lesser vampires and demons scurrying out of his way.

Undeterred by Spike’s thunderous expression, Clem quickly joined him, expressing regret that the vampire had missed the last poker game and telling him about the tournament coming up on the weekend.  When Spike raised his eyebrows at the idea of demons waiting for a weekend, Clem explained that many demons in this dimension held jobs and they couldn’t afford to spend all night gambling when they had to go to work the next morning.

As he looked around the room, he noticed the chef from the restaurant where Buffy worked, and they exchanged stares – each obviously wondering what the other was doing there.  Spike was distracted from asking Clem what kind of demon the human-looking man was by the arrival of his glass of blood and the Jack Daniels bottle.  He grinned his appreciation at the waitress.

“Thank you, luv,” he purred. “It’s nice to know that you remembered me.”

“I did,” she responded with a mock pout.  “But I thought you’d forgotten me.  Where have you been?”

His eyes hardened and she involuntarily flinched as he growled, “That would be none of your business, pet.”  He forced himself to relax and smile at her until she was confident again.  “Didn’t stay away, now, did I?”

“You stayed away too long.” The pout was back and he found himself comparing it unfavorably with Buffy’s soft, pink lower lip.  With a mental growl, he pushed the Slayer out of his mind and leered at the hovering waitress.

“Maybe I needed a good reason to come...back.  You think I might find one around here?”  The innuendo was clear and she preened as she responded.

“I think I can give you some good reasons to come...back here a whole lot.”

“We’ll talk about that later, pet.  Say, after you get off?”

With a happy giggle, she went back to work and Spike turned to smirk at an admiring Clem.

“Wow, that was smooth,” he flattered.  “I guess you’ve got yourself all settled in then? A place to stay and all?”

At that question, Spike’s face darkened and he growled.  “Had one. Not sure where it stands jus’ now – but I’m not goin’ hom- there tonight,” he quickly corrected himself, “come hell or holy water.”

“Oh.  Well, if you need a place to crash...My cave’s not fancy, but it’s warm and dry and sun-free.”

“Thanks, mate.  I think I have a place for now.”  He leered at the giggling waitress again and blew her a kiss.

As he turned back to Clem, he caught a glimpse of the suspicious look on the chef’s face and realized that the man or demon – whatever he was -- had recognized him from the times he’d picked Buffy up at the restaurant. Spike sent him his best “sod off” glare, and went back to his conversation. 

Slayer doesn’t give a rap what I do, or who I do it with.  No bloody reason why he should.

He sat at the table, drinking with his new friend, and getting more information about the weekend poker tournament.  Periodically the waitress would come by the table and lean over to give him another good look at the reasons why he should continue to hang around until she was free, and he would dutifully ogle and leer at her until she was reassured that he hadn’t lost interest.

Which he had. In spite of his still-simmering anger at Buffy, and his need for the release he could expect from a good shag, he couldn’t help comparing the vampire’s overblown charms with the two slayers who occupied so much of his thoughts. 

Even Dru’s got more class than this bimbo.  Wonder if there’s any way to get out of this without losing my image?

His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a couple of rough-looking, but human, patrons.   The men made a point of greeting the waitress by name, and, as they conversed with her, Spike began to realize what they were doing in the demon bar. 

She’s a bloody vamp whore!  The stupid bint was probably expectin’ me to pay her for shagging me.  No way is William the Bloody paying for it! 

As Clem said his good-night and stood up to go, Spike interrupted him.

“Is that offer to stay at your place still good?”

The wrinkled demon blinked in surprise, flicking a quick look at the vamp girl now giving Spike a worried look, but nodded his head.

“Sure, it is.  No problem.  I’ve got to leave now, though.  Have some stuff to do in the morning.”

“That’s fine,” Spike said, standing and tossing some bills on the table. “I’m ready to go now.”  He ignored the angry glare the waitress was giving him, even as she leaned forward so that the men could stuff money into her bra.  As Spike went to brush past her, she stepped in front of him and demanded, “Where are you going already?” 

“Changed my mind,” he said tersely.  “William the Bloody doesn’t pay for it, and he doesn’t share with humans.” He gave her a contemptuous sneer and followed Clem out of the bar, exchanging a guarded nod with Buffy’s boss as he passed that booth.

He followed Clem to the outer edge of the town and into a surprisingly warm and cozy cave.  He gazed around at the over stuffed furniture, TV set and rugs.

“So, this is what the Slayer got back for you, huh?  Got to say it’s a right nice place.”

“Yeah, I had to get new rugs. Those stupid vampires – no offense – got blood all over my old ones.  But it was okay, I just rolled their dust right up in the ruined rugs and threw them out in the woods.”

“Slayer came here to dust them?”

Clem’s eyes took on a deer-in-the-headlights expression.

“Well...yeah...she...Buffy...I mean, the Slayer...she...” He stopped and sighed.  “I work in the same mall that she does.  I kinda...asked her to help me out.  And she did.”  He looked at Spike anxiously.  “She’s a nice girl, this Slayer. I know you said that you’ve killed them before, but...”

“Relax,” Spike growled.  “Got no plans to kill this one.  If I haven’t done it by now, I...  Never mind, where do you want me to sleep?”

“Oh, here you go – that little alcove there is the guest room.  Sun doesn’t come in that far and there’s an old bed in there.  It’s not much, but it’s clean.”

“It’ll be fine,” Spike said gruffly.  “I appreciate it.  You do know, I’ll be stuck here till dark, right?”

“Oh yeah. No problem.  Help yourself to the Cheetos and the TV.  Got no blood, of course, but---“

“I’ll be fine,” Spike muttered, embarrassed at having to depend on someone he’d just met, but grateful for the place to stay.

Chapter Nine

When Buffy awoke to find the chair still firmly in place in front of the door, she smothered her disappointment with indignation.

Who does he think he is?  Not coming home when he knows I’ll worry. He is so going to get his ass kicked when he shows up...

Blissfully ignoring the contradiction between her words to Spike that he stop hovering, and her anger that he hadn’t come back to the house, she stepped into the shower, still grumbling to herself about what a jerk he was and what she was going to do to him when she saw him again.  If, under the righteous indignation there was a shiver of genuine fear that the vampire who had so quickly become such a part of her life might not be coming back, she smothered it, clinging to her anger throughout the day, right up until the point where she left the restaurant and found no sexy blond vampire waiting for her at the door.  Nor did she find him when she made her usual pass through the alley behind the stores, or hanging out at the mall entrance, throwing his finished cigarette butts onto the pavement, just to annoy the rent-a-cop glaring at him.

Telling herself that she was just expanding her patrol area, she ventured into the demon part of town – a place she had tried to avoid after Clem had explained to her that most of the demons in this dimension were contributing members of society in one form or another, and that they stuck to their own area because they needed a respite from being around humans all day long.  Although Buffy’s arrival in this dimension had been unheralded, it had only taken a few months for the word to spread that one of those mythical beings – a Slayer – had taken up residence in Winterset.  She had learned to recognize the sidelong glances that meant she was making those around her uncomfortable and she did her best to stay away from places where keeping up with her sacred duty might mean accidentally killing her non-human neighbors and co-workers.

She walked along the street, doing her best to appear harmless and uninterested in the passers-by, waiting for the telltale tingle that would indicate the presence of a vampire.  When she felt the familiar itching on the back of her neck as she peered through the window of a seedy-looking bar, she chewed on her lip, debating what to do.   She was still staring in the window – mentally counting the vampires inside and searching for a bleached blond head – when she felt more tingles coming from behind.  She whirled, stake at the ready, to find Clem and Spike standing some distance away, gaping at her.

“Buffy! What are you doing here?”  Clem’s welcoming smile was somewhat hampered by his concern that she would feel the need to stake his new friend.  In an attempt to forestall any slaying, he began, “Buffy, this is—“

“Spike.”

“Slayer.”

His eyes bounced back and forth between the two blonds who were wearing identically wary expressions.

“You know each other?”  

Neither one answered him. The vampire continuing to stare impassively as the slayer put her stake back into her waistband.  Buffy’s face was a study in confusion as she looked back and forth between Spike and the demon she knew as a friend.

“Where were you?” she blurted before she could stop herself. 

“What do you care?” Spike’s stubborn expression allowed no room for the apology she had been framing the night before, and she reacted accordingly.

“I don’t care!” she snapped.  “But if there’s going to be a dangerous vampire running around my town, I need to keep track of him.”

“So, that’s what the hospitality’s been about? Keeping tabs on me in case I start munching on the locals?”  His voice was tight and controlled, giving no sign of the pain her words were causing.

“What else would it be?” she muttered, cringing even as the words left her mouth.  Spike whirled, obviously intending to disappear in a swirl of leather just as he had after their last conversation.  He’d gone only a few strides when her raised voice came to him, only the slight tremble in it causing him to halt.

“Did it occur to you that I might be worried?”

He stopped, but remained with his back to her.  “Thought you didn’t want me around?” he said coldly.  “You were pretty clear on that.”

“I said I didn’t need you to hover over me 24/7,” she growled back.  “I didn’t say you shouldn’t come home!”  In spite of the anger in her voice, there was an undercurrent of fear and insecurity, and he was reminded once again of her actual age. With a sigh, he turned around to face her, kicking himself when he caught the expression on her face.

Clem was still staring back and forth between the vampire who had told him he came from a dimension where he killed slayers, and the slayer who had shown up so suddenly in their world and whose ability to slay vampires in large numbers had made it safer for humans and law-abiding demons to go about their business. 

“Okay,” he said into the sudden silence, “it sounds like you two have some issues to work out, so I’m just going to...”

He gestured at the bar and began to sidle toward the door.  Neither one actually watched him leave, Buffy’s “See you tomorrow,” barely audible over Spike’s “Thanks for the bed, mate.”  He nodded and ducked into the bar, his dislike for strife overcoming his curiosity about what exactly was the relationship between the two blonds on the sidewalk.

There was an awkward silence while Buffy tried to keep her lower lip from trembling and Spike fought the urge to put his arms around her and comfort her the way he had the other Buffy.  When it was beginning to stretch to uncomfortable lengths, he turned and gestured for her to accompany him.  They began walking rapidly toward the human section of the town, still silent, but gradually slowing their steps as they relaxed.  When they were finally walking at a normal pace, he looked at her from the corners of his eyes and asked quietly, “You were worried about me?”

“You didn’t come home,” she said softly, as if that explained everything.

“It’s your home, luv,” he reminded her gently.

“You live there, too.”  Her lower lip began to protrude to match the stubborn tone of her voice.

They walked a few more blocks in silence, until, with some mental swearing bloody ponce! Spike broke the standoff.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.  “I was a git.  I’m worried about leavin’ the other Buffy with the poof and I took it out on you.” Gritting his teeth, he continued, “I know you...love...him, and I’ve got no right to get my knickers in a twist every time I hear his name.  It’s just that—“

“It’s just that I was comparing you to him,” she said, surprising him with her insight.

“Uh, yeah,” was all he could manage by way of reply.

“I’m sorry, too,” she admitted softly.  “I should have said something a long time ago about needing some space – not let it build up until I turned into bitchy-Buffy. And I know you’re not...not like him.  Not really.”

“Too bloody right,” he mumbled, temporarily at a loss for words.

“So,” her voice was tentative and much meeker than he would have expected, “are we okay?”

“Yeah, luv. We’re alright.  Or we will be as soon as I get something cold and sweet into you.”  His leer wasn’t meant to be taken seriously, but she blushed obligingly at the innuendo as she followed him into the ice cream shop. 

There was a line in the shop, and it soon became obvious that the college jock behind the counter was intending to ignore Spike for as long as he possibly could.  He did his best to appear to be an ordinary customer, but his always-in-short-supply patience was quickly exhausted.

“’ey, mate. Could you hurry it up a bit? The little lady wants some ice cream.”

The much larger and more muscular man wielding the ice cream scoop looked down on the blond punk and shrugged dismissively.

            “I’ll get to you when I get to you. You’ll just have to wait your turn like everybody else.”

            Spike smiled slightly and stepped closer to the counter, leaning forward and letting his true face show.

            “I’m not like everybody else, mate,” he said with deceptive mildness, then grinned to be sure that the other man saw his fangs.

            Before Buffy could react, the now-ashen server had fixed her cone and waved off Spike’s money with a “No charge – sorry for the wait.”

            She waited until they were well away from the shop, then punched a laughing Spike on the arm. 

            “You flashed some fang at him, didn’t you?” She glared at him, but couldn’t keep her lips from twitching and he smirked back at her.

            “Jus’ gave him a little incentive to be more respectful, is all, Slayer.  Next time he won’t be so quick to think he can lord it over customers he doesn’t like the look of.”

            “So, that was all in the interest of improving his manners,” she said primly.

            “Exactly.”  His self-satisfied air sent her into giggles and they finished the walk home exchanging bites from her ice cream and falling back into their normal comfortable routine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            “What do you see?”  Dawn’s impatient voice brought a shushing motion from the seer who was bent over the pool of liquid in which she could see Spike and Buffy as they walked through town, eating ice cream and laughing.  “Is Buffy okay?  Is Spike there too?  Are they unhappy?”

            “Not at the moment,” the witch said dryly, stepping aside so that Dawn could watch the laughing slayer and vampire enter the small house.

            “Cool! But where are they? That doesn’t look like Sunnydale.”

            “It isn’t.  It seems to be yet another dimension, albeit one that also contains vampires and demons.  Unfortunately, we can’t see anything about it except what is right in front of them, so I can’t tell you where it is.  We can try again tomorrow night and perhaps they will take us somewhere that will allow us to get a better idea of where or when they are.”

            “But they’re okay, aren’t they?” Dawn asked anxiously.  “And they’re together – that’s got to be good.”

            The scene in the pool drifted into the house and she was able to watch as the two younger versions of her sister and surrogate brother settled onto an old couch to watch television.  She winced as a close-up of Buffy’s face showed her that she was now looking at the body of the sister who had disappeared from her world.  It was strange to see the hard, worn lines of her sister’s face wearing the laughing innocence of a teenager.  She switched her gaze to Spike, taking in the angular face and dancing eyes that she hadn’t seen much of in Sunnydale.

            With a start, she realized that all her memories of Spike before he fell in love with her sister were invented ones; she had never actually seen him when he wasn’t mooning over her sister, mourning her death, or hiding a violent affair with her.  She watched, fascinated, as his eyes danced with mischief and he teased a blushing Buffy with ribald explanations for what was happening on the TV screen.

            Feeling much comforted by the small scene of domestic happiness in front of her, she agreed to wait until they had scanned the new dimension several more times before attempting to enter it and make contact with Buffy and Spike.

Chapter Ten

            With their latest fight, or “bloody fuck up”, as Spike preferred to call it, out of the way, they tried to settle into a new routine that would allow Spike the freedom to hang out with other demons, play poker and still be around enough that he could keep an eye on Buffy; and one that relieved her of worry about what he might be doing while he was gone. She couldn’t have explained why she trusted the vampire so much – her only excuse was that she believed him when he said, ”I cheat at poker, I drink, I drive fast, I steal, I like my spot of violence, and I’m a killer...but I’m not a liar. If I’m going to start eating my way through the populace of this colder version of Sunnyhell, I’ll tell you first.   And we’ll have a go about it and one of us will win and that will be that.”

            “Just like that?”

            “Just like that.  If I win, you let me find my meals on my own; if you win, it’s bagged pig swill.”

            “What if one of us kills the other?”

            “Not gonna happen, luv.  I’m not goin’ to kill you, and you can’t kill me.  Not yet.  But we’re goin’ to fix that...”

            Torn between indignation at his confident assessment of her skill level, and curiosity about what he meant by “fixing it”, she settled for glaring at him and twirling her stake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

            “What do you think’s going to happen to them?” 

Buffy’s question, murmured into Spike’s bare chest as she curled next to him, broke into his thoughts; thoughts that had been following the same path as hers. He stroked her arm absently as he thought about it.

“Don’t rightly know, love.  I don’t think we can even guess until the Bit has visited them and found out a bit more about where they are.  And won’t that be an interestin’ conversation...”

“Oh yeah, I can see me – her – now when Dawn pops out of the air and says, “Hi, I’m your little sister, but I’m older than you are right now and I didn’t exist until a few years ago, but it’s all good and I’m not evil...  Yeah, that’s going to be fun.  Not!”

She frowned with genuine concern, remembering how suspicious of anything unfamiliar she used to be – and still was, to a great extent.

“You don’t think I’ll hurt her, do you?”

“No, love,” he said soothingly.  “You’re not that much of a judgmental bitch.  I’m sure you’ll give her time to explain before you start threatening to stake her.” 

“Oh, okay, if you don’t think I—What do you mean ‘not that much of a judgmental bitch?’”  As his actual words penetrated her thoughts, she glared at the laughing vampire and grabbed him by curly brown hairs on his lower abdomen.  “You take that back, you...you...jerk!”

“Ow!  Ow!”  He managed to speak between gasps of laughter.  “Stop that, you—“

His words stopped when she moved her hand from his hair to his rapidly swelling cock.  He pushed up into her hand, groaning, “If you’re tryin’ to punish me, pet, I think it’s only fair to tell you—“

He was interrupted again when she lowered her head to blow across his now rigid shaft.

“Take it back,” she murmured, her warm breath tantalizing him with promise.  “Take it back, or this is all you get...” She deliberately exhaled again, smiling when his cock twitched in front of her.

“And they say I’m evil,” he growled, pushing fruitlessly toward the mouth hovering just over him.

“Take it back,” she ordered.

“Take what back?”  He did his best to cling to some dignity, even as his hips kept pushing off the bed in a vain attempt to make contact with the smiling lips just out of reach.

“You know what – take it back or I’m going get dressed and go over to Mom’s.”

“And leave me here?  Like this?  You wouldn’t do that to me, would you, Buffy?” His voice lowered to the purring rumble that made her knees go weak, and he turned his head to nip at the plump cheek that her position over his cock was presenting to him. 

“Yes,” she gasped, smothering a surprised squeak. “Yes, I would.  You called me a bitch...a judgmental bitch,” she continued, her voice losing its forcefulness as he grabbed her legs and swung her over his face.  “You can’t...oooh!...I’m not a bitch!  Not anymore...I’m all...ahhh...understanding Buffy...”

“You are,” he agreed readily, his tongue wriggling its way into her suddenly damp folds.  “You are so understanding, and sweet, and...delicious...”

Deciding that was as close to an apology as she was likely to get, Buffy surrendered and dropped her head until she had taken him into her mouth.  She swirled her tongue around briefly, then set up a vigorous sucking that had the vampire arching up into her and growling around the little piece of needy flesh that he had sucked into his own mouth.

In a very short period of time, she was gasping for air as they simultaneously collapsed in completion. Buffy’s head was resting on Spike’s muscular thigh, while he left soft kisses across the silky skin of her stomach.  With a small moan, she rolled off and squirmed around until she was curled back into his side.  They lay quietly for several minutes, basking in the afterglow and enjoying the complete relaxation that always followed their lovemaking.

“So,” she continued as though there had been no interruption.  “You think they’re going to be all right?”

He chuckled and squeezed her reassuringly. “They’re us, love.  They’re going to fight and yell at each other, and kick the arse of anything that needs kickin’.  An’ if they’re very lucky...” He dropped his head and placed a long, sweet kiss on her waiting lips. Buffy finished his sentence for him.

“If they’re very lucky, they’ll fall in love and have wonderful make-up sex every time they fight.”

“Exactly,” he said smugly.  “They’re going to be jus’ fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With Spike going off to play cards with Clem at least one night a week – verified by the wrinkled demon when Buffy casually commented on it – and his picking her up after work becoming a more hit or miss thing, Buffy no longer felt that he was watching her every move, and Spike relaxed enough to make a place for himself in the demon community.  For whatever reason, the local demons who knew of his living arrangements and his friendship with the Slayer did not share that information with the vampire population of Winterset, so he was able to mingle freely with the other vampires in the town without fear of being labeled a traitor.

            Not that the small population of vampires left in the city were likely to want to anger the blond master who had so inexplicably decided to move there.  Those who had remained untouched by the Slayer’s stakes were not particularly violent vamps, and they had no interest in challenging Spike about anything. There were quite a few like the waitresses at the Devil’s Rest that got their daily blood from willing human donors who enjoyed the extra rush that accompanied sex with a bloodsucker. And there were also, he found to his surprise, quite a few who were happy to exist on pigs’ blood from the several local butchers. In reality, the vampire population in the city was quite small, consisting either of fledglings that never made it out of the cemetery, or non-violent vampires that remained below the slayer’s radar.

            Just as Buffy, through meeting Clem and working in the mall, had found that not all demons were evil or dangerous, Spike was discovering that it was not uncommon in this world for vampires to co-exist with humans without feeling it necessary to kill them all.  Still, he maintained his Big Bad image – never letting on that he himself wasn’t draining someone every night.  By default, he seemed to slip into the vacant place in the demon hierarchy that should have been occupied by the Master of the city.

The gang from which Spike and Buffy had obtained their TV set was actually one of the few remaining vampire clans left in Winterset, and Buffy soon found herself with little or nothing to do most evenings on patrol.  So, it was with a jolt of surprise and no little excitement that she found herself facing three clearly older and more experienced vamps as she entered the last cemetery on her rounds.

“Hi, guys! Looking for someone?” she asked cheerfully, twirling her stake and balancing on the balls of her feet.

The three vamps that had just been leaving in disgust, after having not found any new minions to take back to their master, stopped and snarled at the foolish blonde girl.

“You’re a bit on the small side,” the leader remarked, gesturing for the other two to flank him.  “But, you’ll do.”  He leapt at her, fully expecting to carry her to the ground, only to find that she was no longer in front of him, but had flipped over his charging form, managing to stake the slower moving of his companions as she did so.  He stopped and shook his head in bewilderment and frustration.

“What the hell...?”

“Oh, I’m sorry!  I didn’t introduce myself, did I?  I’m Buffy?  The Vampire Slayer?” 

As she spoke, Buffy swept the legs out from under the remaining minion, planting a small foot on his face to hold him down while she watched the leader circling her warily.  When he didn’t attack immediately, she took the opportunity to bend down and stake the still-stunned vamp at her feet, rising just in time to meet another charge. Without the advantage of surprise this time, and in an off-balance position, Buffy found that the much larger vampire was able to pin her to the ground. She was able to hold him away from her neck with one powerful, slender arm, but she couldn’t free up the hand that was holding the stake. They remained at an impasse – the vampire snarling at her throat, the Slayer struggling to get her stake into position to use it.

It was the loud snarling and snapping that alerted Spike as he was strolling into the cemetery, following Buffy’s trail with the intention of joining her after her patrol.  He sped up, following the sounds of a struggle and quickly reaching the two combatants. He circled the two straining figures, staying close enough to step in if it looked like Buffy might need help, but far enough away that he wasn’t interfering.  The other vamp didn’t spare him a glance, just snarling, “Get lost, this one’s mine.”

“That true, Slayer?  Are you his? Old Granddaddy’s likely to take that amiss, you know.  He’s possessive that way.”  He sat down on a nearby tombstone and continued in a conversational tone of voice.  “O’ course, if there’s no Angelus in this world, then I guess this wanker won’t be too worried about brassing him off, will he?”

“Spike,” Buffy gritted out, still struggling to free the hand that was trapped between her body and the snarling vampire’s, “Are you going to do anything or just sit there all night?”

“I’m thinkin’ I’ll just sit, luv.  See how you get yourself out of this.”

“What?” The attacking vampire blinked as the tiny girl who was holding him off with one hand actually seemed to snarl back at Spike.

“You don’t want me followin’ around like I don’t think you can handle yourself, I guess you’re going to have to show me that you can.” He leaned back and took out his cigarettes, tapping one out of the pack and grinning at the outraged expression on her face. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Slayer.”

“You son of a bitch!” 

Fueled by her fury at Spike’s laughing teasing, Buffy bucked the vampire off far enough to get a knee into his chest and shove him to the side. As soon as her stake hand was free, she drove the point into the surprised vampire’s chest, coughing as the dust drifted down around her face.  She leapt to her feet, stake still clenched in her fist, and glared at the smiling blond.

“Nicely done, pet,” he said mildly, rising to his feet.  “Now the question is, how the bleedin’ hell did he get you into that position in the first place!” As he continued with his question, his voice rose until he was practically shouting at her.  Buffy flinched back, then stepped into his space to snap back at him.

“There were three of them, you asshole! And they weren’t fledglings – I could feel it.  They were older and smarter.”

“Then you have to be smarter – or you won’t get any older,” he growled back, already moving as her fist came flying toward his face.  “Atta girl,” he encouraged when she followed it up with a flurry of punches, a few of which connected. 

Before she realized it, Buffy was in a full-out fight with the vampire she had thought was her friend.  Spike pulled no punches, although he never went into game face and made no attempt to follow through those few times that he was able to knock her down.  She soon dropped the stake that she already knew she wasn’t going to use on him, and concentrated on trying to wipe the confident look off his face. The closer she came to actually beating him, the wider his grin grew until he finally held up his hand and laughed with delight.

“That’s enough for tonight, Slayer.”

“I haven’t kicked your ass yet,” she grumbled, more than willing to allow her rapidly-tiring arms to drop to her sides.

“No,” he agreed with a soft smile, “you haven’t. But you came closer than I thought you would.”

They began walking home, the Slayer keeping a small distance between them as she mulled over the night’s events.  Suddenly, she stopped and grabbed his arm.

“You made me mad on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Ah,” he chuckled. “There are brain cells in there.”  He moved easily away from the half-hearted punch she threw at his bicep; her hand barely brushed the leather as she expressed her annoyance the only way she knew how.

“You’re still doing it,” she muttered, fingering her stake meaningfully.

“I’m sorry, pet,” he said his grin fading to a soft smile.  “I wanted you to save yourself back there and I figured getting you mad at me was they best way to see that it happened. I knew you’d have to take care of that wanker before you could try to pound on me the way you wanted to.”

“Humph!” was the only thing she could think of on short notice, so she just began walking again, this time close enough that their shoulders brushed occasionally.  Spike happily accepted this sign that she was no longer really angry at him and he enjoyed the rest of the walk home – even if his cock did twitch a little every time the Slayer’s shoulder came into contact with his.

Happy to have figured out what Spike had been trying to do, and grateful that he hadn’t come riding to the rescue, Buffy was lost in her own thoughts and it took her a while to notice the tingle she got every time her shoulder came into contact with his arm.  Once she did notice it, she also had to acknowledge the little flutter in her lower abdomen that accompanied the tingle. She gave a guilty start at the thought that she might be getting turned on by Angel’s grandchilde, and she reluctantly moved just far enough away that the accidental contact was no longer happening.

Spike did his best to smother his disappointment until they reached the sidewalk in front of the house.  He was just opening his mouth to say something when there was a loud “pop” right in front of them.  He shook his head to clear the ringing in his ears and fell into a fighting stance beside the already-poised Slayer. 

Chapter Eleven

Facing them was a tall, slender girl with dark chestnut hair.  She waved and stepped out of the glowing portal in which she’d arrived.  She studied their suspicious stares and tense body posture, looking momentarily unsure of herself.

“Hi, guys,” she said, smiling weakly. “There is a really, really good and totally non-evil explanation for this. I swear!”

Spike cocked his head, frowning and sniffing the air before relaxing his shoulders and giving Buffy a nudge.

“I think it’s okay, pet.”

“Who are you?” she demanded, ignoring his reassurance and glaring at the girl standing in her front yard.

“Okay, now, see, this is gonna be the whole ‘really good and non-evil explanation part,” Dawn said carefully.  “So just bear with me, here, ‘K?”

“WHO are you?” Buffy repeated.

“I’m Dawn.  Your...sister,” the girl responded.  “I mean, not in this dimension – cause you don’t have one here; and not in the one you came from, cause you don’t have me there – yet.  But in my dimension, I’m your sister.  The monks gave me to you.”

“Monks? Sister?”

“I think she’s telling the truth, luv.  She smells like you.”

Buffy turned her glare on Spike.  “There’s that ‘ewwww’ thing we’ve talked about,” she grumbled, but relaxing at his verification that the stranger facing them on the dark sidewalk was related to her.  She studied Dawn again, then nodded her head and started around her.  “Okay, come on in the house and explain this to me – us.”

With a happy smile, Dawn quickly followed Buffy up the steps and through the now-open door.  Spike came in right behind her, pulling the door closed behind him.

Buffy prowled around the strange girl standing in her living room, looking her up and down and seeking some sign that they were related. Something other than Spike’s nose... Suddenly it struck her.  “You can’t be my sister,” she said, using her best “aha!” tone of voice.  “You look like you’re the same age I am!”

Dawn rolled her eyes in a gesture that was so similar to what Spike had seen from Buffy that he barely managed to choke out, “Oh, she’s your sis, alright, Slayer.  I’d know that look anywhere.”

“Shut up, Spike.” Buffy spared a glare in his direction, before confronting Dawn again.  “I don’t have a sister – and certainly not a twin.  Try again.”

“Which part of ‘alternate dimensions’ are you too feeble-minded to get?”

“Who are you calling ‘feeble-minded’, you dork?”

“If the shoe fits...”

“Your shoes won’t fit – because you’re not my sister! I don’t have a sister! Not in this dimension, and not in the one I came from.”

“I’m not FROM the one you came from!” Dawn’s voice had risen to a screech that had the vampire putting his hands over his ears. 

“Oh.”  There was a pregnant pause.  “Why didn’t you say so?”

Dawn’s only response was another eye roll and a loud huff.

Spike stepped into the silence, beckoning the two girls to the couch and suggesting in a placating manner, “You sure fight like you’re sisters.  I’ll give you that.”

The two girls sat on opposite ends of the couch glaring at each other until their lips began to twitch and Buffy mumbled, “We kinda were, weren’t we?”

“Well, yeah. I mean that’s what sisters do – sometimes.”

They sat for a few more minutes in abashed silence, then Dawn sighed and said, “I guess I’d better do what I came to do before I get yanked back to my dimension.”

“An’ what would that be, pet?”

“I promised my Buffy and Spike that I would try to find you guys and make sure that you’re all right.”

“Your  Buffy?”

“Yeah, the one that took your place in Sunnydale?  She’s my sister – from my dimension.  She got sent there cause it’s earlier there than it is in my dimension and she has a chance to fix some things that went waaaay wrong for us.”

“What did you mean, ‘your Spike’?” The vampires voice was quiet, but the look on his face was intent and Dawn blinked as though she had forgotten he was there.

“The reason you got kicked out is because my Spike – the one that...”

“That got his soul and died to save the world. Already got that scary story,” he said, smiling at her to show it was all right to talk about it.

“Yeah, that one.  Well, he came back and then he did it again—“

“Bloody hell!”

Dawn grinned and continued as though he hadn’t spoken.  “The last time, the Powers that Be gave him a choice of going to Heaven –“  she ignored Spike’s choking noises – “or joining Buffy in the other dimension’s Sunnydale.  He picked Buffy.”

“ ‘Course he did,” he said absently, half-falling into the room’s only chair.  “So, he’s with my Buffy and I got kicked here to keep this one from getting into trouble until we can sort out why we’re here...” He paid no attention to Buffy’s indignant “Keep me out of trouble?” but continued softly, “So, she’s got her vamp back, then.  All souled up and everythin’.”

Dawn and Buffy exchanged anxious looks as they watched his face while he digested the news that the Sunnydale Buffy had her own Spike back in her life.  While he had assured this Buffy that he was not yet in love with her older doppelganger, it was very clear from his behavior and treatment of her that he had feelings for the other slayer, and she wasn’t sure how he was going to handle the news that Sunnydale Buffy was with someone else – even if the someone else was a version of himself.

She breathed a sigh of relief when his face softened into a smile and he said, “So, she’s got what she wanted.  The real thing, this time.  I hope I - he makes her happy.”

“She looked pretty happy when I saw them,” Dawn said with a smile.  “They both did.”

“Well, good on them, then.”  He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “So what can you tell us about this world?  And what makes you able to flit back and forth?”

“Um, that’s kind of a long story...which I’ll tell you!” she hastened to add when Buffy’s eyes began to narrow suspiciously.  “But I’ll have to do it on some other trip, ‘cause I think this one’s about up.”

Buffy squirmed uncomfortably before blurting out, “How is Angel? Did you see him?  Does he miss me?”

Panic swept over Dawn’s face as she remembered that in her dimension, Angel had dusted in the same battle as Spike.  One look at Buffy’s face told her that secret was one she didn’t need to share just now.  She stumbled on her words as she said, “He...I didn’t actually see him when I was in Sunnydale – and I didn’t think to ask about him.  I suppose he’s still around – I mean, he would have been at that time in my world...” Her voice trailed off as the disappointment on Buffy’s face registered.  “Tell you what,” she said brightly. “The next time I go there, I’ll ask about Angel. Okay?”

“Okay, sure,” Buffy said dully, not even trying to hide her disappointment.  Dawn studied her for a second and then volunteered, “I’m sure he does miss you.  I mean it’s not like my Buffy is still in love with him – she’s got her Spike back and...well, anyway, I’ll bet he really misses you.”

Over Buffy’s lowered head, she exchanged a look with the vampire who was torn between sympathy for the slayer and anger that she would still be so worried about his grandsire.  Vowing to find a way to tell her more about Angelus and his past, he stood up and moved closer to the two girls, trailing them out the door. He rested a hand briefly on Buffy’s shoulder, giving it a little squeeze and saying, “I’m sure the big poof misses you, pet.  The older you was a bit too much her own woman to suit him.  He probably wouldn’t like her even if she did still want him.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you might think,” Buffy muttered. “I grow up to be such a bitch that my boyfriend doesn’t love me anymore?  How is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Dawn paused at the spot where she had originally appeared and smiled as the sides of the portal began to glow.  “I think I’m getting better and better at this,” she said happily.  “The next thing I have to learn to do is to make it appear wherever I want it to, instead of wherever I landed.”

“Can...will you...I mean, if you go back...”  Buffy straightened up and said firmly, “Will you tell Mom that I love her? And I miss her?  And say ‘Hi” to Willow and Xander and Giles and Angel and...” Her face crumbled and she barely managed to get out  “and everyone...” before a sob burst from her throat and she ran back into the house.

“I guess this has been kind of hard on her, huh?” Dawn said sympathetically. 

“It has,” he responded simply.  “It’s a lot for anyone to handle, never mind a young girl.”

“Good thing she’s got you, then, isn’t it?”  Dawn looked at him with shrewd confidence.

He shook his head, trying to hide the smile on his face.  “I’m not the Spike you know, pet.  I’ll do what I can to help her, but I don’t love her...  an’ I can’t replace the poof.”

“I’ve got faith in you,” Dawn said cheerfully as the glowing walls surrounded her.  “Bye!”

With another loud ‘pop”, she vanished, leaving him standing on the sidewalk, staring at the front door.  His vampire hearing allowed him to pick up the sounds of Buffy’s muffled sobs as he sighed and walked up the steps.  After closing the door behind him, he looked longingly at the basement steps before growling and going into the living room.  He shrugged off his coat and sat down to wait out the crying coming from the slayer’s bedroom.  Not until her sobs had tapered off and her even breathing told him that she was asleep did he get up and, after turning off the lights and checking the doors, make his way downstairs to his bedroom.

He sat on the edge of the small bed that he had found in a used furniture store and put his head in his hands.  It wasn’t that hard to imagine how Buffy was feeling when he thought back to his own world and the things he’d left behind.  Buffy herself played a bigger role than he wanted to admit; as did Dru who, in spite of her behavior, was still his sire and the woman he had loved for over one hundred years.  To the best of his knowledge, he had no family in this world, nor any friends other than Clem.  With a start he realized that the only thing anchoring him here was the young blonde girl upstairs and his growing attraction to her.

“This can’t possibly end well,” he muttered to himself as he closed his eyes.

Chapter Twelve

            In spite of Buffy’s indignant complaints and insistence that she was “doing just fine”, Spike made a point of working out with her every night.  If they weren’t sparring, they were running or stretching or practicing with swords.  She jokingly began to call him “Giles, Jr.” until he growled that he was at least three times the watcher’s age and “bloody tired of being compared to him”. 

            “Well, if you’re going to act like my watcher, I’m going to treat you like one!”

            “Does that mean you’ll do whatever I tell you to?” he asked with more interest than he’d shown in the rest of the conversation.

            Buffy gave him her best ‘as if!’ stare until he looked away.

            “Guess not,” he mumbled, kicking at a tombstone.

            “Don’t feel bad, Spike,” Buffy said, almost kindly.  “I didn’t do what Giles told me to, either.”

            “Thanks, pet. That makes me feel ever so much better...”

            “You know,” she continued, “you do sound a lot like Giles sometimes – all with the British speak and stuff.  Sometimes you even sound like you—“

            “Oi!  Watch your mouth, Slayer.  I am nothing like your ponce of a watcher, and don’t you forget it!”

            “Oh right.  Big Bad, evil vampire.  Silly me.”  She crinkled her nose at him and grinned until, in spite of himself, he was grinning back at her.

            “Watch it, missy,” he growled around his smile.  “I think somebody needs a reminder of just how big and bad I am.”

            “Oh, oh!  Somebody help me, the vampire is going to hurt me!”  Giggling and sticking her tongue out at him, she took off running through the cemetery, joying in the air moving past her face and the strength in her body as she sped past trees and tombstones, dodging things with an agility that she knew was due to the vigorous training that Spike had forced upon her. She could hear the pounding of his boots on the turf as he laughingly chased her, making no real attempt to catch up but enjoying the thrill of the chase and the sound of her happy laughter.

Been a while since she laughed like that, I’ll wager. If I’ve done nothing else here, I’ve been able to make the Slayer happy for a bit.  If, somewhere inside him, a demon was sputtering indignantly at the idea of making a slayer happy, Spike cheerfully ignored it and continued to chase the slender girl in front of him.

            He was still smiling at the thought of how happy she sounded, when he rounded a large mausoleum just in time to hear her laughter choke off to a gurgle.  He sped up as he caught sight of the dark-haired vampire that had Buffy pinned to the ground, grinding his pelvis into her and slavering at her throat.  Spike’s charge knocked the vamp off the Slayer, and she sat up, her eyes wide and staring.

            “X...Xander?” she whimpered.  A quick glance at the demon he was holding down explained to Spike why she had been lying so passively under the vampire’s attack.  With a complete lack of recognition, the young vampire snarled at Spike.

            “She’s mine,” he growled, baring his fangs and ducking the punch Spike had thrown at his face.  “You can’t catch her, you lose her.  Back off.”

            Ignoring the other vampire, except to backhand him away, Spike growled over his shoulder, “It’s not him, Slayer.  It’s just another vamp what needs slaying. Now get up here and do your job!”

            Buffy’s face registered nothing but shock and the faintest trace of hope.

            “It’s Xander. He wouldn’t hurt me. He—” She was cut off as a slender but very strong arm went around her neck and a familiar voice purred in her ear.

            “Aren’t you a pretty thing?” said the red-haired female vampire holding Buffy against her chest.  “And you know Alec’s name. Isn’t that interesting...?”

            While she trembled with horror, a vampire wearing Willow’s face ran her tongue up the side of Buffy’s neck.  She didn’t flinch when the vamp’s teeth grazed her throat; only the feel of the other girl’s hand on her breast and Spike’s terrified shout snapped her out of her daze.  At the last second, she twisted away, feeling Willow’s fangs slide harmlessly against her skin.  She whirled to face one of her worst nightmares, her lip trembling as she whispered, “Willow? Don’t you know me? It’s me – Buffy.”

            The familiar-looking vampire cocked her head and frowned, moving to join Alec/Xander now that Spike had thrown him to the ground and rushed to Buffy’s side. She studied the teary-eyed girl in front of her, then asked her companion, “Wasn’t there a Buffy in our high school? Annoyingly perky cheerleader type?”

            “Yeah, there was.  I remember her.  Wouldn’t give me the time of day,” the dark-haired boy snarled.

            “Didn’t we kill her?”  Willow sounded genuinely confused.  “I thought we did.”

            While the two vampires tried to puzzle out who Buffy was, and why she knew them, Spike was whispering to her urgently.

            “It’s not them, Slayer.  Look at them.  They don’t know you and you don’t know them.  They are just vampires who look like your Scooby pals.  Snap out of it!”

            The devastation on the slayer’s face told him that she was not going to be able to slay the two demons in front of them, and he quickly placed himself between Buffy and the steadily more puzzled vampires.  He frowned himself when he caught the unmistakable itch that spelled ‘family’.  Pushing Buffy behind him, he began backing away cautiously, his senses alert for anything that might indicate the presence of any other Aurelian vampires.  There was no question that a run-in with Angelus would be the final blow to the Slayer’s heart.  And he, himself, was not eager to find that Drusilla was present in this dimension, either. Nor was he sure that he could protect Buffy from his entire family without her willing cooperation.

            The dark-haired demon began to move in their direction, but Willow’s hand on his arm stopped him.

            “No,” she said clearly.  “We know where to find them.  We should go back and tell the Master about this.”

            “Let’s just kill them and tell him later,” Xander argued, unaware that the older vampire that had pushed him away from his dinner had not really been trying very hard when he hit him.

            “Did you hear what he called her?”

            “No, I wasn’t paying attention. Didn’t she say her name was Muffy or Fluffy or something like that?”

            “No, jackass!” Suddenly it was very obvious who was in charge as Willow slapped Alec’s face.  “He called her ‘Slayer’.  We need to tell the Master about this.”

            Without another word, she whirled and ran, the other vampire reluctantly trailing after her. 

            “I will have you, Muffy, or whatever your name is,” he threw over his shoulder.  “We’ll be back.”

            Buffy didn’t speak a word all the way back to the house, allowing Spike to set the pace and blindly following him.  There was no stopping at the diner or the ice cream shop, just a steady, fast pace to the relative safety of her home.  He opened the door, pushed her toward the couch and went down to his room, returning quickly with a bottle of amber liquid and a glass.  He poured two fingers of what passed for scotch in this world and silently handed it to the slayer.

            “Here,” he said gruffly. “Drink it.”

            “I’m not old enough to drink,” she mumbled, automatically taking the proffered glass from him.

            “Not askin’ you to go on a toot, pet,” he said with a gentle smile.  “It’s purely medicinal.  You’ve had a shock and you need somethin’ to settle your nerves.”

            Giving him a suspicious glare, she tipped the glass up and swallowed the whole amount at one time.

            “Bleagh!” she said with a shudder.  “You actually like that stuff?”

            “It’s an acquired taste,” he responded, grinning at her.  “Feel better?”

            As the warmth spread through her stomach and body, and the taste left her mouth, she realized that she did, in fact, feel somewhat better and she held her glass out imperiously.

            “More, please.”

            “One more,” he warned. “I want you relaxed, not unconscious.”

            “I’m a slayer. I’m sure I can hold my likker,” she huffed, taking another big swallow and repeating the face and sounds she’d made the first time.

            “I’m sure you’re right, luv, but let’s not test that theory right now, yeah? We’ve got a situation here.”

            The reminder of why she’d been so upset in the first place wiped the contented look off Buffy’s face, and she slumped back against the cushions, closing her eyes as if to block out the vision of her two best friends as vampires.

She moaned softly and opened one eye.

            “I don’t suppose there’s any chance that I’m just having a particularly bad dream, is there?”

            “Not unless I’m having the same dream, luv.”

            “Crap.”

            “Right there with you, pet.  It’s crap, but it’s here and we’ve got to deal with it.”  His voice softened and he sat down beside her and stroked her head lightly. “Are you gonna be alright?”

            “No,” she grumbled.  “I’m not gonna be all right.  My two best friends are evil vampires in this dimension and they keep talking about somebody called ‘the Master’, and I just can’t wait to find out who he is.”  She put the glass up to her mouth and finished the liquid in it, shuddering immediately.

            “Who do you think he is?”  Spike wondered if she was expecting Angelus, then remembered that this Buffy had never met his unsouled grandsire.  With a sudden cramp in his stomach, he remembered that the Master in Sunnydale had been Darla’s sire.  ‘Old Bat Face’, as Spike and Angelus had referred to him out of Darla’s hearing, had apparently been killed by the Slayer the spring before he arrived in Sunnydale.  He studied her worried face, then asked again, more softly, “Who do you think he is, pet?”

            “With my luck, it’s that ugly old creep that lived on the Hellmouth in Sunnydale.  The one that killed me.”

            “He what?”

            “Just for a few seconds.  He was so happy to be getting out of there that he didn’t drain me; he just threw me into a puddle of water to drown, but Xander and Angel found me, and Xander did CPR and I was okay, except that I was really pissed and I went and found him and threw him through a glass roof and he dusted.”  She paused to gasp for breath, having blurted that all out in one long sentence.

            “Well, then,” Spike said, smiling at her attempts to breathe normally, “it’s not a problem, is it?  Just hold that thought about how brassed off you were, and you’ll dust him again.  Assumin’ we even see him,” he added.  “Maybe he’s been locked up somewhere in this dimension too, and that’s why your little Scooby friends are runnin’ his errands.”

            “Do you think?” She sounded so hopeful that he put on an air of confidence that he didn’t completely feel. 

            “I do, pet.  If the old bugger was able to get out and about, he’d have been here by now to check you out.  Those two minions didn’t even recognize what you were until they heard me call you ‘Slayer’. If he knew there was one around, he would have taught them better.”

            “He would?”

            “Oh, yeah. He’s a right pain in the arse with all his rules of this and codes of that, but he makes sure that his favorites know everything they need to know to grow old with him.”

            “What did he teach you?”

            “Um...I didn’t...I don’t....wasn’t exactly one of his favorites,” he growled.  He jus’ tolerated Angelus and me so that he could have the girls aroun’ sometimes.”

            “I wonder if there’s a you in this dimension?”

            “If there is, I can guarantee you he’s staying as far away from his great, great grandsire as he can get.”  He thought for a minute, then touched her cheek to get her to look at him.  “Just in case, though, I want you to be bloody careful if you think I’m actin’ strange, or if you see me somewhere you don’t expect to. You hear me, Buffy?  You keep that stake handy and you use it if you need to.”

            His use of her name and the urgency in his voice as he stared into her startled eyes gave evidence of how serious he was and she nodded slowly.  He let his fingers trail down the side of her face as he dropped his hand, fighting the urge to cup her chin. He heard her heart rate go up as his fingertips skated over her smooth skin and he groaned mentally.

            “Promise me, pet?” he continued, stepping away from her.  “Do you promise?  Don’t believe it’s me until you’re sure.”

            “May—maybe we should have a code word or something.  Something that you could say that another you wouldn’t know about.”

            “Secret handshake?” he grinned, laughing aloud when she flushed and stamped her foot.

            “I’m serious!  You’re the one who brought it up,” she continued, still glaring at him.  “I’m just offering a possible solution.”

            “And a good one it is, luv,” he soothed.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to laugh at you.  You’re absolutely right – we need to have something I can say so that you’ll know it’s the real me.”   He thought for a minute, then said, “How about I tell you I know you?”

            “You say that all the time,” she grumbled.

            “That’s why it will be good.  It will be in character and you’ll know when it fits the situation.  Even if someone else tried to use it, he wouldn’t know why I say it or when it would make sense.”

            “Okay.  You know me. Got it.”  She sighed and put her empty glass down. “I guess I might as well get to bed – I’m really sleepy for some reason...” Her eyes drifted shut and he shot out his arm to stop her from swaying again.  She opened one eye and peered at him.  “Am I drunk?  Did you get me drunk?”

            He laughed richly, even as he was steadying her and helping her walk toward the bathroom.

            “I don’t think so, pet.  I think you’ve just had a shock and then more alcohol than you’re used to.  You might be a bit tipsy, but not drunk.  Trust me, love, I know drunk.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she giggled before mumbling, “I just bet you do.” She tottered into the bathroom and closed the door.  She peed quickly, and then splashed cold water on her face until her head felt clear. After carelessly brushing her teeth, she opened the door and peered around it to see where Spike was. She smothered the little jolt of happiness when she saw him straighten up from the wall.

            “You alright, pet?”

            She smiled and nodded. “I think so.”

            “Alright, then.  Let’s get you to bed so that you can sleep off your first taste of the good stuff.”

            He didn’t touch her again, but watched as she walked to her bedroom, placing each foot carefully and deliberately.  When she had made it to her bed and fallen face down upon it, he couldn’t hide a snort of laughter, and she opened one eye to glare at him. 

            “I meant to do that.”

            “Of course you did, pet.  Now give me those feet and I’ll tuck you in.” 

            Without waiting for a reply, he pulled her shoes and socks off and pushed her legs onto the bed. He tugged the covers out from under her inert body and pulled them up to her shoulders, tucking them in around her arms.  Without opening her eyes, she mumbled, “I still have my clothes on.”

            “You do,” he said without inflection. “And I suspect it’s in my best interest to see that you stay that way.  Good night, Slayer.”

He passed a hand lightly over her head and walked to the entrance, turning the light out and pulling the door closed behind him.  He walked into the living room and turned the lights out before heading for the basement and his own part of the house.  He threw himself on the bed and, not for the first time, wondered what the powers had been thinking, sending him to live with a teenage Buffy after he’d known the adult version.

She’s beautiful, yeah. And brave. And she’s workin’ on being that amazin’ fighter I met back in Sunnyhell.  But she’s so young! And still hung up on my bloody, souled grandsire.  I don’t think she has any idea what she does to me. She’s so innocent – that body might know mine, but the little girl inhabiting it thinks she’s a virgin. Wants hugs and kisses and romantic speeches –not what I want. Not the passion I know is in there.

            He groaned and surrendered to the need inspired by seeing her curled in her bed and talking about taking off her clothes.  The sounds of his zipper sliding down, and the sigh of relief as his erection burst out into his waiting hand were all that could be heard in the dark room until his growl of release indicated he’d reached the only satisfaction he was going to.

Chapter Thirteen

In another small city, far enough away from Winterset that travel back and forth was not all that common, a very old and angry vampire was questioning his favorite minion.

            “You say he called her ‘Slayer’?  This vampire that protected a human?  It’s not possible.  I killed the last slayer hundreds of years ago.  Before I killed her, I found and destroyed all the possible replacements – ripped their throats out.  Killed them, killed their watchers and their families. Before I feasted on the last one, I made sure that there was no way for another slayer to be called.”

            “I’m just telling you,” Vamp Willow said stubbornly, “He called her ‘Slayer’ and told her to do her job.”

            “And did she?”

            “No...she was...she acted like she knew us. Like she thought we were friends or something.”

            “But you weren’t?”  He gestured for the red-haired childe who had become his favorite to come closer, smiling when she eagerly crouched at his feet and leaned against his bony leg.

            Alex spoke up for the first time. He knew he wasn’t a favorite, that the Master only kept him around because Willow had pleaded for him to be turned with her.  He generally tried to keep a low profile around their sire, only approaching when he thought he had brought something that the old vampire would like.  Like delicate, pretty blondes.

            “There was a girl that looked like her in our high school,” he volunteered.  “And I think she had the same name.  But that was years ago, and Willow and I killed her when we went back for Prom night.  I know we did – I made her pay for ignoring me before we drank from her.  She cried,” he finished with great satisfaction.

            “And yet, here, close enough to be of concern to us, she appears to have come back to life as a slayer....” With a final stroke to the top of Willow’s head, the Master rose to his feet and began issuing orders.  He sent a small group of his oldest minions to Winterset, ordering them to find out what they could about the would-be slayer and the vampire that protected her from his own kind.

            When they had left to make preparations for the drive to the other city, he walked to the large table in the middle of the room and studied the plans spread out upon it. 

            “Explain to me again how this is going to work, my little genius,” he purred, pulling Willow close and pinching her firm little rear.  She giggled appreciatively, while Alex rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. Rubbing against her sire, Willow showed him how the process would work when they had rounded up enough humans to make it worthwhile, and begun feeding them into the machinery that would drain their blood into storage tanks. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            When Buffy left the restaurant the following night and found Spike waiting for her just outside the back door, she was somehow not at all surprised.  She was surprised to see him chatting casually with the chef, laughing and slapping him on the back. She hadn’t been aware that they knew each other, although she realized that Spike had probably made some friends and acquaintances among Winterset’s demon population during his nights out.  As she walked up, she heard the other man say, “Your luck’s going to change one of these days, Spike, and then you’ll have to get a real job – just like the rest of us.”

            “Never happen, mate.”

            “What will never happen?” Buffy asked, smiling at the chef as she walked up and poked Spike in the back. “That you won’t stop treating me like a little girl who needs a big bad protector?”

            “What?  I can’t meet you after work for a quick spot of violence before I go off to do evil things? Has nothin’ to do with...I just felt like comin’ by and talkin’ to my mate, Harry here. ”

            She rolled her eyes and gave him a “we’ll have this conversation later” look, before turning to Harry to explain, “He thinks taking care of me is his job or something.  Like I wasn’t doing just fine all by myself before he got here,” she huffed.

            The human/demon hybrid that she now knew Harry to be gave her a benevolent smile and said, “You may have been doing all right by yourself, but you never smiled the way you have since this card sharp started showing up to walk you home.”

            Buffy blushed to the roots of her hair, and only the fact that Spike seemed as embarrassed as she was kept her from wanting to sink into the dirty pavement. She mumbled something about it just being nice to find somebody from her home to talk to sometimes, ignoring Harry’s knowing grin as she waved and began to walk down the alley.   With a quick “See you later, mate” Spike jogged after her. In their embarrassment, neither one of them noticed the vampire standing across the alley in the shadows.  He watched until they had reached the end of the alley, then began slowly walking in that direction.

            Completely unaware of their onlooker, Buffy and Spike began a silent patrol, staking a few newly-risen fledglings and then pausing to relax on top of a large marble tomb.  Buffy lay on her back and looked at the sky overhead.

            “There are more stars here than there are in Sunnydale,” she said abruptly.

            “Not more, pet, just more visible.  There’s a lot less light in this world than in ours.  The stars are the same, we can just see them better.”

            “How do you know they’re the same?”

            He lowered himself beside her, taking great care to be far enough away that he wasn’t touching her.

            “Because when I was a lad, we didn’t have all those lights in the cities – and none at all in the countryside – so I could see the stars almost every night if it was clear.”

            “Oh. So you were one of those ass...astro...starwatching people, huh?”

            “Among other things,” he replied.

            “What other things?” She turned her head to look at him and there was a long silence while their eyes met and held.  She was suddenly very aware that the vampire was lying only a few inches away, and she swallowed hard at the expression on his face.  For a second she thought he was going to kiss her, but instead, he sat up and said, “Nothing that you need to hear about, Slayer. Now get your lazy arse up and let’s find some demons to beat on.”

            Grumbling about vampires that think they’re the boss, she rolled off the tomb and led the way toward the cemetery’s gate.  “Fine,” she sniffed, “don’t tell me about what else you know.  I’ll just go find some other annoying vampire to talk to.  I’ll pretend he’s you, and when he won’t tell me what I want to know, I’ll--Oh, look! Here one comes now!”

            “Here comes more than one, luv,” he growled, stepping up beside her as four of the master’s minions spread out around them.  He watched their nostrils flare as they caught his scent and recognized the faint trace of family.  

            “The Master wants to know what you are doing with her,” the tallest one demanded.  “Why aren’t you where you belong?”  He frowned as both Spike and Buffy laughed heartily and the vampire answered, “Don’t we wish we were!”

            “I don’t belong with you lot,” Spike continued.  “Don’t know what old Bat Face has done in this world, but you might want to tell him that where we come from the Slayer dusted him when she was just a little chit.”

            “Blasphemy!”

            Spike rolled his eyes.  “Have at it, pet.  I reckon they need to learn the hard way.”  To the surprise of the other vampires, he just pushed the one in front of him out of his way, then, rather than join the fight, he jumped gracefully onto another tomb and sat down to light a cigarette.

            “I thought you were helping her?” a husky minion who had just been kicked by the Slayer gasped as he doubled over.

            “Oh, I doubt she’ll need it.  There are only four of you.”

Spike took a deep drag on his cigarette and blew a stream of smoke in the direction of the deadly whirlwind that was the Slayer.  She had already staked two of the minions, leaving only the one stocky man and a nervous-looking woman to continue the fight.  With the grace and athleticism that he loved to watch, Buffy kicked and spun until there was nothing left but the dust coating the grass and her boots.

            Spike applauded briefly, then his head snapped up at the same time that Buffy fell into a fighting crouch and spun around, her eyes searching the shadows.  The minion that had been following them had remained out of sight while the others attacked the Slayer, and he was now running away with the tale of Buffy’s effortless decimation of four of their strongest fighters. With his enhanced vision, Spike could just make out the vamp’s outline as he ran for the gate.  He looked at Buffy questioningly and she shrugged.

            “Let him go back and tell them what he saw.  Maybe they won’t come back any more.”  The trace of hopefulness in her voice made him ache for her and he said gently, “They’ll be back, pet; but probably not for a while.  My great, great grandsire doesn’t go looking for trouble – he’s going to stay away from a city with a slayer livin’ in it.”

            Buffy frowned at him.  “If he doesn’t live here, where does he live?  There aren’t a lot of cities in this world. Not on this continent, anyway.  I checked out all the ones in this country when I first got stuck here – looking for Sunnydale, but it doesn’t exist.”

            “Well, wherever it is, it has to be close enough for him to send minions to check you out a day after he finds out about you.” He gently nudged her elbow and guided her toward the gate.  “We’ll try to find some maps or somebody who knows the area and see where the nearest city might be that’s big enough for a family of old vamps to hide out without being noticed.”

            “I wish I knew more about this place,” she grumbled.  “Maybe I should have tried to get into school somehow – at least I would have learned some history or some geography.”

            “Considerin’ that by the time you got to high school, you would have been expected to know some of both of those things, I don’t think that would have been in your best interest, pet.”

            “Probably not,” she sighed. “Everybody’s pretty cool about most stuff here – like letting me work without a birth certificate or a social security number – I wonder if they have social security?” she segued.  “Do you think they do?”

            He snorted a laugh at her ability to switch subjects so quickly and shook his head. “Wouldn’t know, love.  Not something demons and vamps spend a lot of time worryin’ about.”

            “Well, they should...I mean the ones I’m not going to slay, anyway...”

            He gave her a friendly nudge and said with a smile,  “You know, Summers, you’ve come a long way, livin’ here.”

            “Huh?”

            “Older you?  She didn’t get that not all vamps and demons are alike until she was several years older than you are.  She told me about it – how she was all about the fightin’ evil and no exceptions – except the bloody poof, of course.  Thought that soul meant the world...”

            “Well it does!” Buffy quickly rose to Angel’s defense.

            “Then how do you explain all the peaceful vamps and demons in this world? The ones you see every day and don’t slay because you know they aren’t up to anything more evil than playin’ poker on the weekends?”

            “It’s...it’s a different world. That’s all.  They’re different because the whole weird world is different – so, it just makes sense that the vamps and demons would be different too!  Maybe they all have souls or something,” she muttered at his skeptical look.

            “An’ me?  How do you explain me, pet?  Not from this world, am I? Got no soul to keep me righteous – jus’...” His voice trailed off as he realized how close he had come to admitting having feelings that he was still fighting.

            “If I tried to explain you, I’d go nuts,” she muttered, laughing when he growled.  “It’s true!” she argued.  “You don’t have a soul, but you didn’t kill other me when she said she knew you, and then you...you started to like her...”

            His lips twitched at her youthful way of talking about his feelings for the slayer he’d left back in Sunnydale. Different dimensions or not, this one was so like what Buffy must have been like at that age that he had to constantly remind himself that she wasn’t her.

            “Had other things I was interested in doin’ with her, pet,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her.

            She gave him the obligatory glare and “ewww”, then looked more thoughtful.  “Why don’t you want to do those things with me?” she asked innocently.  “Is it because I’m not pretty anymore?”

            He was rendered completely speechless – stopping in the middle of the street and staring at her as though she’d grown another head.  He wasn’t sure which had astonished him the most – that she didn’t realize the effect she had on him, or that she didn’t know how beautiful she was.  He stammered incoherently as he tried to decide which misconception to address first.

            “Spike?  Did you hear me?  Why did you stop?”  Buffy turned around when she realized he wasn’t with her and put her hands on her hips.  “What’s wrong with you?”

            He shook his head and gave a nervous laugh as he walked toward her again.

            “Just a bit gobsmacked, love. And don’t know which of those comments is the more wrong-headed.”

            “Huh?”

            He pushed a strand of hair off her face and touched her chin, smiling to himself when he heard her heart-rate go up.  Ah, love, if you only knew how badly I want to do those things with you.  Choosing to go with the safer question, he said with perfect sincerity, “I told you that first night that you were a beautiful woman, and I meant it. Do you look like the curvy little thing that’s pretendin’ to be you back in Sunnydale?  No. You look like the woman she grew into.  You’re strong, you’re beautiful and if you would go get that pretty dress you told me you were gonna get a dozen paychecks ago, I’d take you out to that club like I promised and prove it to you.  I can guarantee you’ll be the most beautiful woman in the place.”

            As he’d hoped, his effusive praise of her looks and the reminder that they were due a night out on the town distracted her from her first question and she blushed and stammered as she finished walking up to the front door.   Before she could get her key out, Spike was beside her opening the door and holding it for her.  She smiled her thanks and ducked under his arm, heading immediately for the living room and the TV.  After a minute of good natured arguing over which old movie to watch, they settled on one that sounded like it would have enough violence for Spike and enough romance for Buffy. 

One of the drawbacks of this world’s being so different from what they were used to, was that very little of what was on the few television stations available was familiar to either of them.  The different history, much smaller population of humans world-wide, and the tacit acceptance of the peaceful demons that lived and worked with humans meant some major differences in the entertainment world, just as it did in many other areas. 

Spike, who had spent over a hundred years watching his world change around him, had adjusted much faster than Buffy had been able to when she first arrived.  It had taken her several months of making what she now knew to be stupid mistakes before she had learned to watch and wait before opening her mouth or jumping into a conversation. Now, with Spike’s easy mingling with the demon population and her own hard-won knowledge of how this world was and was not like the one she came from, they were becoming more and more comfortable in their new environment.

Buffy told herself that watching TV and movies was an important way for them to learn more about their world, and she happily spent a couple of hours most nights sitting on the couch with Spike and arguing with him about whether or not what they were watching was “real” or a made up story that they shouldn’t take as a genuine look at their new home.

Chapter Fourteen 

            The next night, without saying a word to anyone, Buffy rushed out the door of the restaurant as soon as her shift was over, and, clutching her paycheck, headed immediately for the bank branch where she cashed her checks.   She smiled her thanks at the young man who handed her the money and stuck it in the pocket of her jeans while she strolled through the small mall looking for a shop that might have a dress that she could both afford and look pretty in.

            An hour later, she was walking home swinging the bag that contained her new, and only, dress and the shoes she’d had to buy to wear with it.  Hidden in the bottom of the bag was a lacy push-up bra and matching panties in the same pale green color as the dress.  For the first time since she had landed in Winterset - confused, angry and frightened - she felt like herself.

Shopping therapy – nothing like it!  She smiled to herself as she walked into the house and began calling for Spike.  She quickly realized that he was still in the shower, the sound of the water not quite drowning out the song he was singing in a surprisingly pleasant baritone voice.

            “Young girl, get out of my mind... My love for you is way out of line... Better run, girl, You're much too young, girl... With all the charms of a woman, you've kept the ...”

Okay, I’ve never heard that song – I wonder if he made it up?  Of course, he’s older than dirt, so it’s probably just some oldie that—

            The sound of running water cut off and, still humming under his breath, Spike emerged from the bathroom, a towel hanging precariously from his hips while he used both hands to rub his hair with another one. Buffy’s strangled “Spike!” got his attention just in time for him to make a one-handed grab at the rapidly slipping towel around his waist.  He froze, not sure what to do as Buffy stood staring at him, her eyes wide and still focused on his flat abdomen and the line of soft curls disappearing beneath the towel that he was clutching tightly. 

            She’d never seen a naked man, let alone from a distance of less than six feet away and, while Spike was not completely naked, it was more than obvious that the only thing between her eyes and that part about which she couldn’t help but be curious, was a not particularly large, cheap, thin bath towel.  She could feel her face redden, even as she was unable to tear her eyes away from the body in front of her. 

Stop staring, Buffy!  What is wrong with you? Stop looking at him!  He’s going to notice...oh, god, he noticed...

            Spike kept a firm hand on the towel that protected what little modesty he had, but he couldn’t prevent a grin from breaking out when Buffy’s breathing and heart rate continued to climb even as her face grew more and more colorful.  He leaned back against the wall and waited until she was able to drag her eyes up to his amused face.

            “See anything you like, pet?” he drawled, laughing out loud when she sputtered incoherently.

            “What?  No! No liking... I mean not that I...that you...I mean... you... naked... shower... towel... There is no liking here – no seeing and liking.  No seeing.  I’m not seeing – I’m going to my room now,” she finished with as much dignity as she could muster in the face of having to walk past an almost naked vampire to get to her room.  It didn’t help that his shoulders kept shaking with barely contained laughter as she marched past, eyes carefully averted.

            While Spike, still chuckling to himself, went through the kitchen and back downstairs to get dressed, Buffy lingered in her bedroom as long as she could – hanging up her new dress, putting the shoes into the closet next to her sneakers and boots, and scolding herself for being such a baby.

I’m the MTV generation.  “R” rated movies and Playgirl magazine.  That sooo did not bother me the way he thinks it did.  And I was sooo NOT ogling his body.  I love Angel. I love Angel.  I love Angel...

            Eventually she had to emerge, carefully stuffing stakes into her pockets and avoiding eye contact with the now completely dressed vampire.  He was uncharacteristically silent as they left the house and headed for the nearest cemetery.  They walked along in uncomfortable silence for several blocks before Buffy could stand it no longer.

 “I love Angel!” she blurted out, turning away quickly when she saw that he had completely read the guilty thoughts that brought on that non-sequitur.  He cocked his head at her and waited until she stopped and faced him, her face flaming. When she refused to meet his eyes, darting hers from the sky to the ground, to a very interesting, if imaginary, something over his shoulder, he sighed and shook his head.

He rested his hands on her shoulders, waiting until she reluctantly raised her eyes to his before he said carefully, “I know you do, pet.  Or, I know that you think you do; just like you think you know him.  You’re not doing him any harm by ogling my naked body – and it doesn’t make you a bad girlfriend, or a loose woman.  It makes you a perfectly normal, healthy girl.  I didn’t credit that look for anything but it what it was.”

Her shoulders relaxed in relief. “What was it?”

“Jus’ a curious little chit tryin’ to get a look at my goodies,” he said, leaping back with a laugh as she swung her fist at him. 

“I wasn’t...I didn’t...oh, you are sooo full of yourself!”

Still laughing, he ran toward the cemetery, calling over his shoulder, “Com’on, Slayer. Take that temper out on some vamps that might actually need pummelin’”

Clutching her stake in a threatening manner, Buffy chased Spike until he ran past a grave that erupted with a pair of dirt-encrusted arms.  She stopped, waiting until the newly-risen vampire had pulled himself most of the way out of the grave before she chirped, “Hi there. Welcome to the rest of your...death,” as she ran her stake through his heart and watched the dust settle back onto the soil.  She looked up at Spike with a satisfied smile, forgetting about her earlier embarrassment.   “I feel much better now,” she grinned.  “There’s nothing like watching a vamp go ‘poof’ to make a girl’s night.”

Shaking his head at her, he responded with a rueful smile, “Nice to know that you’re so easily pleased, Slayer.  I’ll keep that in mind.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Uh oh,” Dawn’s voice caught the attention of the red-haired witch working in the corner and Willow looked up.

“What’s ‘uh oh’?  Uh oh’s are never good, in my experience.”

Dawn gestured to the scrying bowl and said, “You need to see this for yourself.”

Willow walked over to the large bowl that Dawn had learned to use so well, peering into it and blanching at what she saw.

“Oh, Goddess,” she whispered, watching a vamped out version of herself as she held a teary-eyed Buffy with one arm and fondled her with the other.  She watched as Buffy tore herself away and Spike stepped between the slayer and the two vampires.  She gave a little moan when she saw who the other vampire was.

“They’ve gone to the world where the master is still alive,” she said, shaking her head in denial even as she watched demon Willow and Xander run off together.  Dawn kept the bowl focused on her sister and the vampire who was protecting her – noting how he got Buffy out of the cemetery and on the way home while the young slayer remained in a state of shock.  Once they were safely in their house, she waved her hand over the bowl and allowed the picture to fade.

“What do you think is going on?”

“Well, it can’t be exactly like the alternate dimension that Anyanka put us all in when Cordelia wished that Buffy had never come to Sunnydale, but it must be very similar.  Of course, the Buffy that finally showed up there didn’t know us, and the Master was killing her just as Giles smashed the pendant – so we don’t know what would have happened.  But that Buffy didn’t have Spike on her side – and Angel wasn’t really much help, I think he got himself staked or something...”

“I have to get back there – I have to warn them—“

“Warn them about what?  They’ve already seen us - them – they know what they are.  And Spike isn’t a captive like Angel was, so he should be able to help her.”

“They know about you guys, but they might not know about the Master.  I guess I should talk to our Buffy first and see if she has any ideas...” Dawn wandered off to the room she now used for her portal-opening experiments, muttering to herself about vampire witches and dumb-ass carpenters.  Willow watched, her brows knitted in a little frown as she tried to think of anything useful to tell young Buffy about her vampire self.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You saw what?!”

“Vamp Willow and Xander.  They attacked Buffy, but she got away and Spike was there, so—“

“Tore the whelp’s head off, I hope.”

Dawn rolled her eyes at the vampire’s less than useful contribution to the conversation.

“He was busy trying to keep Buffy 2.0 from getting too close to them.  I don’t think she realized for a second or two that they were vamps – or that being vamps meant that they didn’t know who she was.” She frowned. “I don’t think Xander was a very important vampire – vamp Willow smacked him across the face. That’s got to be good, right?” she added brightly.

“It’ll have to do,” he grumbled, subsiding while Dawn and Buffy compared notes about what they could remember of that dimension. Dawn wasn’t much help, as in that world she hadn’t even existed and neither had Joyce.  Buffy tried to fill Spike in on one of the few Sunnydale experiences for which he hadn’t been present.

            “Willow was a vampire – a gay vampire – and so was Xander, only not gay ---I don’t think. And the Master was still alive, and they kept Angel in a cage, and...” Her eyes flew to his. “They kept Angel in a cage – and they were setting up some kind of machine for the Master that was going to drain people for him. What if that’s...that’s the dimension they’re in?  The one where the Master’s alive?”

            “Easy, pet,” he said quickly, putting a steadying hand on her arm and speaking soothingly.  “Even if it is that same dimension, you don’t know what the situation is now.  Clearly it’s different from what happened to you, or they wouldn’t be around, would they?  And they would have recognized you as the Slayer – which Dawn says they didn’t.”

            “In...in that dimension...they-he...won,” she whispered softly.  “They would be still walking around, because the Master killed me - or, he was about to anyway.  Giles broke Anya’s pendant and that dimension just...vanished.”

She looked at Spike sadly.  “What if it didn’t vanish?  What if we just got sent back to our own dimension – me, Angel – but what if the Master and vamp Willow and vamp Xander stayed wherever they were?  What if this is where they’ve been all the time?”

            “Think, Slayer.  Didn’t you say that you went back to your own dimension just as old bat-face was trying to off you? And that the witch and the whelp came back with you? If it is another version of them, they don’t know you. They’ve got no idea what they’re up against.”  He smiled at her dubious expression and gently pushed her hair off her face.  “No idea at all.”

            “I guess that’s why there’s no Mom or me in that one,” Dawn said thoughtfully.  “Must have something to do with the Master not being trapped in the Hellmouth....or maybe it’s just a completely different dimension and nothing’s the same except a few people or vamps.  We don’t know if what Anya did actually sent us all to another dimension, if it changed the one we were in, or if we were all having the same bad dream that ended when Giles broke the pendant. And it’s not like we can ask her....” Dawn’s voice trailed off and Spike and Buffy exchanged looks over her bowed head.

“What are you thinkin’, Bit?”

“Well, in my world – your old world – Anya died; but in this one, as far as we know, she’s still a vengeance demon, right?  Maybe you can summon her and just...ask?”

“Ask a Vengeance Demon to tell the Slayer what happens when she grants a wish?  Oh yeah, that should go over well!”

“But, it’s Anya...”

“She’s still Anyanka here, Bit.”  Spike’s voice was gentle as he reminded her that the demon they would summon was not their Anya and would not know them.  “Got no reason to help us out; and might be a bit brassed off at being summoned for somethin’ like that.”

“Fine!” Dawn’s tone and her rolling eyes indicated that she wasn’t giving up on the idea, but she agreed for the time being. “So, what should we - I do?  I need to tell them about the Master, at least.”

“I think you should tell them,” Buffy said suddenly.  “And maybe...” she gave Spike an apologetic smile, “maybe you should tell them to look for Angel?  Just in case he’s got his soul in that dimension and the Master is torturing him again?”  She ignored his growling and continued. “They could probably use all the help they can get and having Angel on their side would—“

“Would bollix up any chance of anything developin’ between me and you,” Spike interrupted.  “Is that what you want for them?  For you? To waste all those years mooning after my grandsire when she could be--“

“Spike, we can’t make them fall in love with each other.  They’re us...but they’re not us, too.  Maybe he won’t even want me – her. I was able to coax him into bed, sure, but he wasn’t in love with me and he didn’t want to be in love with me.  I’m glad he found her, and that he’s helping her, but we have no idea how they feel about each other.  For all we know, he has a vampire girl friend and just sees Buffy when he patrols with her.“ 

Buffy looked at Dawn for verification, but saw that she wasn’t going to get any help there.

“I think he likes her, Buffy.  He doesn’t want to admit it out loud, but I can see the way he looks at her.  I think he’s afraid to say anything because she’s so young – and because she’s still---“

“Still hung up on Angel,” Buffy sighed in agreement.  “Yeah, even if he is interested, I don’t know if teen-aged me is ready for Spike.  That’s a lot of...”

“A lot of....?”  Spike’s eyebrows were raised as he waited to hear what she thought it might be too much of.  When there was no response, he filled in, “Passion? Incredible sex? Violence?  Stop me when I get to something you haven’t thought of, pet.”

Glaring at him with angry eyes and lips that were trying not to smile, she said, “I was going to say ‘That’s a lot of pretty intense emotion for a teenager to handle. It might scare her off.’ “

“Too bad we can’t talk to them then, isn’t it, love?” he said, pulling her into an embrace that she only pretended to fight.  “You could tell her what a wonderful lover I am and what a wanker Peaches really is.”

“Or, you could tell him to take it easy and not scare her off by doing something stupid.”

“Stupid?  What have I ever done that might have been scary to a slayer?  Aside from tryin’ to kill you,” he added as an afterthought.

“Chains, offers to kill crazy ex, and then threats to feed me to crazy ex - let me know when I get to something that might be scary to somebody who--”

“Oh,” he muttered, hiding his face in her neck.  “That stupid stuff.  Well, he probably won’t think about doing anything like that.”

“We can only hope not,” she said.  “Who knows if she’s as easy going and forgiving as I am...” She felt him shaking with laughter that he tried to hide by nibbling on her neck, and she bit down on his shoulder with her own teeth, giving a very credible growl.

“Um...if you two could stop with the wildly inappropriate PDA’s for just a few more minutes, I’d like to come up with a plan about what I should tell them.”

The two growling blonds reluctantly disentangled themselves and sighed simultaneously.  “I’m leavin’ this up to you, pet.  I don’t really know anything about what happened – all I know is old Bat Face was already gone by the time I got here, and you’d pretty much cleaned out most of his minions, too. Nothing left for me but the Annoying One and a couple of wannabes.”

Buffy looked at Dawn and said thoughtfully, “Maybe I should just write it out for her – you could take a note or letter with you, couldn’t you?”

“Yeah, sure.  If I couldn’t take things with me, I’d be showing up naked all the time—and you sooo did not leer at me, Spike!  Ewwww! That’s like...like...ewww!”

“Sorry, Bit.  Force of habit – I am a man, you know.  Pretty girl says the word ‘naked’ I just naturally perk up. Even if she is more of a sister-type.”

“Men are disgusting,” she huffed, turning her back so he wouldn’t see the smile on her face.

“Pigs,” Buffy agreed primly, pinching Spike’s ass while her sister wasn’t looking.  “All of them.” 

“I know when I’m in a conversation that’s not going to go well for me,” he laughed.  “I’ll be in the other room.”  He pinched Buffy back, and before she could retaliate, he was already at the doorway and going into their bedroom.  As soon as he got out of sight, he went to the desk and pulled out a sheet of paper, quickly scribbling out a note and folding it into a small packet.

Buffy was also writing, filling a page of notebook paper with as much as she could recall about the demon dimension to which Anyanka had converted Sunnydale.  She made sure to point out that she didn’t know for sure if that’s where they were, but that she was giving them some things to watch out for.  She finished the letter, reread quickly – adding some more facts about Angel and the fact that he hadn’t known her, but had been willing to help – then folded it and handed it to Dawn.  She chewed her lip for a minute, then ripped off another sheet of paper and scribbled a much shorter note, folding it into a much smaller packet and giving it to her sister too.

“Do me a favor,” she whispered, looking around to be sure that Spike hadn’t come back into the room, “give this to Buffy when Spike isn’t around to see it. Okay?”

“Okay,” Dawn agreed readily, tucking the folded paper into her pocket.  “What did you do, tell her to forget about Angel and grab Spike while the grabbing was good?”

“Something like that,” Buffy mumbled.  “But don’t tell my Spike I did it.”

“Don’t tell me you did what?”  His sudden, silent appearance behind her was a reminder of just who and what she was living with.

“Nothing.”

“Right.  Cause it’s always important that you not tell me nothing – never know what I might do with information like that.” 

“It’s nothing,” she repeated stubbornly.  “Just girl stuff.”

He gave her one of his “I see right through you, Slayer” looks, but dropped the subject, instead walking up to Dawn and giving her a hug.  “It was good to see you again, Bit.  Give our regards to our other selves.”  As he released her, he slipped the folded note into her hand, whispering, “Give this to Spike - just don’t let the Slayer see it, yeah?”

Dawn rolled her eyes at both of them – inspiring mutually suspicious looks from each – then stepped into her portal area and closed her eyes to concentrate.  While Spike and Buffy watched in admiration, the walls of the portal swirled up around her and she waved as the usual loud “pop” carried her back to her own world.

Moving closer together, they stared at the empty space for a few seconds before Spike put his arms around Buffy and pulled her into his chest.  He nuzzled the side of her neck, smiling when she tipped her head to the side so that he could lick his mark.  She put her hands over his crossed arms and held them in place as she enjoyed the sense of belonging and serenity that she got from his attention to his mark.  Finally, she gave his arms a little squeeze and moved away, turning to face him as she did so.

“Do you think they’ll be able to handle him?  He did kill me the first time I faced him.  Of course that was all about that stupid prophecy that Giles and Angel had me thinking meant I was going to die no matter what I did....”

“Wankers!”

She heaved a sigh and nodded sadly.  “Got to say, it wasn’t one of their finest moments... but the other Buffy has already kicked his ass once, so she should know she can handle it—”

“She’ll be fine, love.  She’s you, isn’t she? Old Bat Face isn’t gonna know what hit him.”

“What about evil Willow and Xander?  You heard what Dawn said about what she saw – what if she’s so lonely there, that she can’t kill demons wearing the faces of her friends?”

“I’m pretty sure soulless Spike isn’t gonna be bothered by that, pet.  If he had time to meet Harris while he was here...” he waited for Buffy’s reluctant nod, “then he isn’t going to have any problem at all with it.  Trust me,” he growled, half-seriously.

Buffy laughed at his growl.  Even though they had explained and explained about Spike and his soul and his world-saving, Xander refused to see him as anything but the slayer killer that had appeared in Sunnydale the year before, Drusilla in tow.  His reaction to the news that not only had the vampire returned to Sunnydale for Buffy’s birthday, but that his body was now inhabited by the Spike that this Buffy knew and loved, had been sufficiently ugly to create a rift between the two friends that had yet to heal. 

Giles, on the other hand, couldn’t resist the appeal of recording as much as he could get Spike to tell him about a vampire who loved a woman enough to get his soul for her.  The vampire’s confirmation that the Powers were responsible for his presence, as well as Buffy’s, went a long way to gaining some acceptance for the situation.  Buffy and Spike were still treading a fine line between feeding the Watcher’s curiosity and not revealing too much about a future that very well might not happen in this dimension.  They were all agreed that they should limit their interference with the possible course of events to those things that they could be sure were necessary.

Buffy’s disappointment that she couldn’t arrange to beat Cordy for Prom Queen was only partially put on – that little taste of semi-normal high school life being one of the few she could remember from her own high school days.  She huffed angrily when Giles said that he was “quite sure that the Powers That Be did not bring you back here in order to watch you cheat your way into a tiara”; and she threatened Spike with spending a lonely night on the couch if he couldn’t stop laughing at her disappointment.

Even though she had stomped out in a fit of temper, she was secretly delighted that the two Brits seemed to be bonding this time around, and that she would not have to worry about her surrogate father trying to kill the man she loved.  Her best male friend was another matter, and she smiled ruefully at Spike at his reminder that Xander was not as accepting of his presence in her life.

She nodded her head.  “I don’t suppose he will,” she agreed.  “I don’t know what’s wrong with Xander – I know he’s a better person than this—“

“He’s jealous, love.  There isn’t going to be much we can do about it until he outgrows it or finds somebody else. There may not be an Anyanka this time around, so who knows what it’ll take.  The cheerleader doesn’t seem to be doing it for him and he’s lost his chance with Willow.  Now, can we talk about something else besides the bloody whelp? Gives me indigestion, it does.”

Chapter Fifteen

            Buffy’s much-improved mood lasted until they had cleaned out the three cemeteries on their list for the night.  Instead of their usual ice cream treat on the way home, they both agreed that it was getting too cold for ice cream and they stopped at a coffee shop for hot chocolates.  Spike told her how much he’d liked her mother’s hot chocolate and she smiled sadly as she agreed that it was the “best ever”. 

            The reminder of what she was missing sent Buffy into a melancholy silence and he fumbled around for some way to bring back her happy mood. Remembering the bags she’d been carrying when she came home, he asked quickly, “What was in those fancy bags you were carrying when you stopped to ogle me, pet?  Did you get that dress I told you to?”

            Making a face at his ogling comment, she nodded, regaining her enthusiasm as she spoke.

            “Yep! Got a dress and shoes and matching underwear... and I sooo did not just tell you that!”

            Grinning at her flaming face, he waited for her to stop sputtering before he purred, “So, matching underwear? ‘s that right, Slayer?  Plannin’ on havin’ yourself a big night, are you?”

            “Hmmmph!” she huffed.  “Like that’s likely with you watching my every move and flashing your fangs at anybody you don’t like.”

            Smothering the pang her comment gave him, he said mildly, “Wouldn’t get in your way, luv.  You know that. Promised you a night on the town and that’s what you’ll get.  I promise.”

Crap!  I hurt his feelings again.  Damn vampire and his feelings – and those eyes that show everything he’s feeling.

            “I...I’m sorry, Spike.  I didn’t mean that the way—“

            “’s alright, pet.  You’re likely right. Without that reminder, I’d probably be prowlin’ behind you promisin’ to eat anybody who had the wrong look in his eye.  Won’t do it, I promise you.  I’ll jus’ get you in the door and dancin’ and then watch from a safe distance.”

            “You aren’t going to dance with me?”

            “Thought I was takin’ you there to meet people your own age and have some fun?  You don’t want to be spendin’ your time with an old vamp what hasn’t danced since the waltz was considered daring.”

            “Way to remind me that you’re older than dirt, Spike,” she grimaced.

            “Didn’t know you needed remindin’, Slayer,” he said gruffly as he stood up.  “Let’s get goin’ – I want to watch that show where the demons compete with humans to see who can answer the most questions.”

            “That almost-but-not-quite-Jeopardy show?”

            “Yeah, that’s the one.  Like to get the answers before they do.”

            “So you can yell at the TV and feel superior to somebody.”

            “I AM superior, pet. An’ don’t you forget it.”  He waggled his eyebrows at her and she giggled in spite of herself, following him out the door.

            The walk home was quicker than usual, Buffy’s steps hastened by the fact that she hadn’t worn a winter coat and Spike’s by his urge to see his show.

I need to get that parka out of the back of the closet.  I forgot how cold it gets here in the winter.

“Penny for your thoughts, pet?”

            “I was just thinking about how much I miss southern California and the sun – especially at this time of the year.  Do you know how much money I had to spend when I first got here – just buying stuff to keep me from freezing to death?  You’d think the powers might have sent us someplace warm,” she grumbled, wrapping her arms around herself and shivering.

            Spike eyed her heavy sweatshirt and long pants and nodded his head.  “Got to admit, the outfits you wear here aren’t nearly as easy on the eyes as those short skirts and skimpy tops that you filled your closet with back home.”

            “Are you saying I don’t dress well?”  Dismay and disappointment flew across her face.  In spite of her small salary, Buffy had done her best to continue to dress nicely – making allowances for the fact that this world was much cooler than what she was used to and short skirts and thin tops just weren’t practical.  With a limited budget and the potential damage caused by her slaying duties, she’d been forced to stick with easily washed, long sleeve tops in warm fabrics, but she prided herself on coordinating things as much as possible. Even the thermal underwear that she wore in the winter was in pretty colors.

            “I’m just saying, luv,” he said quickly, reading her unhappy expression and wishing he’d kept his mouth shut, “that I got used to seein’ a lot more of Buffy than what I get to look at now.  Not that you don’t look nice – it’s just that I’d rather be lookin’ at skin than corduroy.  Watching you kickin’ in pants just isn’t the same as watchin’ you kick wearing a mini-skirt...”  His eyes unfocused for a minute as his mind wandered back to watching Buffy spinning and kicking in her short skirts.

            “You’re a pig, Spike!”  The response was automatic, but she couldn’t hide the relief in her voice.

Once again he was reminded that, in spite of her physical appearance, she was only approaching her eighteenth birthday and still very much a teenager when it came to worrying about her clothes.  She did dress very differently from the way she had back in Sunnydale – and not just because it was cold.  Without being in school and having to worry that she wasn’t fitting in, she hadn’t wanted to waste too much of her limited money on clothes that she was planning to leave behind as soon as she was yanked back to her own world.  The dress to wear out dancing was her first real venture into shopping for pretty clothes since she had become resigned to living in this colder, less stylish world and she had forgotten how much she enjoyed shopping until she went looking for it.

Vowing mentally to have more shopping therapy in her future, she shoved Spike and began to run, calling back, “Last one home is a—“