Misplaced

Goes off canon during Gone. The Trio builds a ray that is meant to cause amnesia and they test it out on Buffy and Spike. The actual effects lead Buffy and Spike to experience each other’s worlds in a whole new way. They’re not so much gone as… temporarily misplaced.
 
Author’s note: The idea is somewhat similar to similar to Challenge 36 on the BSV, but that challenge takes place during a different season. Any similarities to the challenge response already posted are coincidental. Reviews are most appreciated!
 
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Chapter 1
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“Dust already, would you!”
 
With a last thrust of her stake Buffy finally subdued the larger than normal fledgling she had been grappling with. He had been so overweight when he was turned that she had practically thrown her back out wrestling him to the ground – it had been like a mouse fighting an elephant. She stood up slowly, feeling completely exhausted. This day can end, like, any time now. She leaned against a tombstone for a moment, examining the tears in yet another decent shirt. The day had started crappy, with both Spike and Social Services showing up to torment her. She had no idea what being on probation was going to mean, but she supposed she should make more of an effort to shove Dawn out the door on time for school. Willow was in full-time needy mode, and it was driving her insane. Buffy had to agree with Dawn there – it was pretty annoying to have to clear everything even remotely magical out of the house. She really wanted to say that it would be a lot easier to clear the witch out of the house, particularly since said witch a) paid no rent and b) had nearly killed her sister in a car wreck. However, it seemed unkind to kick the witch while she was down, so Buffy tried to swallow her annoyance.
 
After school Buffy had tried to talk to Dawn about the Social Services problem, but Dawn had been in a bitchy mood and had ended up stalking off to her room and slamming the door. Dinner had been an afterthought composed of pasta and some salad made from slightly wilted lettuce, since Willow usually did the cooking but hadn’t felt up to it tonight. I suppose I’ll have to take on that chore too. Along with the bills, and the Slaying. Oh yeah, and the worrying about the bills, since that seems to be my full time job right now. After dinner Buffy had sat down and tried to face the bills head on, but all she succeeded in doing was depressing herself more. The amount owed and the amount in her bank account were two numbers that were never going to meet up until she got some more income, somehow. Later, Xander had come over and he and Willow had tried to draw her into a discussion of the recent diamond theft and who could be behind it. Buffy tried to care and keep up her end of the conversation, but in the end she escaped to patrol just to get some relative peace.
 
Then there was the whole Spike situation. The whole thing was bad on so many levels. She had acted like a total ho, throwing herself on him like he was the last male on earth. Her cheeks burned even now as she thought of how she had acted. The fact that she had done this with Spike was just so much worse. He was a smirking, soulless demon, with ridiculously outdated hair and clothes who was now going around gloating at having had the Slayer. The only thing better than killing a Slayer… Bastard. How dare he?
 
But while her head was cataloging how wrong, bad, and thoroughly fucked-up the situation was, her skin craved his touch. She involuntarily closed her eyes at the memory of his cool cock filling her, turning all her nerves on at full volume. He had brought her to orgasm among the wreckage of the abandoned house so many times that she couldn’t even count. He had murmured dirty words into her ear, spurring her on to sexual acrobatics she didn’t realize she was capable of. It had been without a doubt the best sex of her life, and as much as she tried to deny it, she wanted more. Feeling sensation, touching that fire again after these weeks of numbness was addictive. She was tempted to go find him right now and scratch that deep-seated itch. Bad idea, Buffy. The Scoobie’s will have a coronary, and Spike will rub it in so hard it will leave a mark. She sighed and started making her way home.
 
“Evening, Slayer.” Buffy stopped, rolled her eyes to the heavens and turned slowly to see Spike behind her. “Miss me?” he said, his lip curled in his characteristic smirk.
 
“Yeah, I was just saying ‘Gosh, I don’t have enough stress and snarkiness in my life. Where oh where can I get more?’” She turned back toward the gates of the cemetery to continue stalking back to Revello Drive.
 
“You’re in a lovely mood,” Spike commented, falling in beside her. “Any particular reason, or is it just the usual battle between what you want and what you think you need to do?”
 
Buffy stopped and turned to face him again. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
 
“What I mean, love,” he said, moving closer as his voice trickled out like warm honey, “Is that there are ways of relieving all that stress.” He trailed a hand down her arm, sending a shiver down her spine and a flush of warmth between her legs.
 
“You’re a pig,” she said, trying to force her feet to move away. It seemed, however, that her movement circuitry was temporarily overwhelmed by the sensations his hands were causing as one settled on her hip while the other ran through her hair.
 
“What are you so afraid of, Buffy?” he asked in that same seductive tone. “We’re out here alone. No one needs to know what we’re up to.”
 
Spike was so busy trying to entice the Slayer that he failed to realize that they were not actually alone. In the bushes near the cemetery entrance, three black-clad figures jostled each other as they tried to get their equipment together.
 
“What are they doing?” asked Andrew, trying to get the binoculars away from Jonathan.
 
“Will you stop grabbing them?” Jonathan hissed. “It’s not my fault you forgot yours.”
 
“Will the two of you shut up before they hear us?” Warren whispered. “We’re not going to get a chance to try this out if they find us before we’ve got it set up. Andrew, shut up and give me a hand here.”
 
Andrew frowned, but turned to hold a cylindrical metal object while Warren carefully slid a round, glowing crystal into it. “Do you really think this is going to work on her?”
 
“We’ll find out,” Warren said, tightening some screws. “If Jonathan got the right crystal that is.”
 
“I got just what you asked,” Jonathan said. “I just hope it will work together with the diamond the way you think it will.”
 
“Just keep an eye on them,” Warren muttered. “Let me know when the Slayer is away from him.” He tightened the last screw and beheld his handiwork. It resembled a gun, and in a way it was. The ray it produced was designed to cause amnesia in its victim for a day or two. If it worked as intended, the Trio would be able to go anywhere, and do anything, and erase all memory of their having been there. Warren imagined walking into stores, zapping the clerks, and being able to walk out with whatever he needed. Or finding Katrina again and having her forget their past troubles, at least for a while. The possibilities were endless, but they needed to know it would work first.
 
“Can we try it yet?” Andrew asked eagerly.
 
“They’re still talking,” Jonathan said. “But get ready – I think she’s starting to leave.”
 
“Look,” Buffy was saying. “The other night, it was… it was a mistake. It was a fun mistake at the time, but we really can’t be doing this. Besides, I need to get home to Dawn. This conversation is over.” She turned to walk away, leaving Spike stunned for a moment in her wake.
 
“Get ready! Here she comes!” Jonathan whispered. Warren hefted the gun to his shoulder and aimed. The Slayer was in his sights and he slowly pulled the trigger.
 
Just then Spike shook himself and stomped after Buffy. Grabbing her arm he spun her around and said, “Damn it, Slayer, this is not over.” Then he pulled her roughly into a searing kiss at the moment that Warren let loose with the ray.
 
Buffy was losing the battle of wills as she melted under Spike’s electric kiss. She had given up and pulled him to her, tangling her hand in the back of his hair when she felt the oddest sensation. It was like a painless explosion in her mind, and it seemed like her nerve endings were draining out into her lips and tongue where she was connected to Spike. Spike felt it too – a whirling of all his thoughts that seemed to come from nowhere. They pulled back, both feeling a little dizzy and nauseated.
 
“Shit, we hit them both. Let’s get out of here before they see us,” Jonathan hissed.
 
“But how are we going to know if it worked if they don’t see us?” Warren asked. “Come on you pussies.” He stood up boldly, picked up the gun, and walked in no particular hurry past the cemetery gates and off to their van, trailed reluctantly by Andrew and Jonathan.
 
“What the hell was that?” Spike asked, staring at Buffy in shock.
 
“I don’t…. I don’t know. I feel all wonky or something.” She noticed three figures moving out of the corner of her eye, but they didn’t seem important right now.
 
“Are you okay?” Spike shook his head, feeling like there was something he was missing.
 
“Yeah. I think,” Buffy said vaguely. “I’m… gonna go home now.”
 
“Yeah,” Spike said, also feeling vague and confused. “I… I’ll see you tomorrow or something.”
 
“Yeah.” They separated then, each walking toward their respective domiciles. Buffy moved mechanically, finding it difficult to concentrate on anything. When she got in, Willow was still awake, watching TV, and asked, “Hey, how was patrol?”
 
“Good. I guess,” Buffy said. She wrinkled her brow, not exactly understanding the question. “I’m… really tired. I need to go to bed.” She started heading to the basement door.
 
“Um, Buffy? Where are you going?” Willow asked. She had never seen Buffy looking this exhausted after patrol before.
 
Buffy looked at the basement door, momentarily befuddled. “I was going to bed.”
 
“I think you’ll find that your room is still upstairs,” Willow said. “Are you okay? You seem really out of it.”
 
Buffy shook her head and rubbed her eyes. “Upstairs. Right. Sorry, I’m just… just knackered I guess.” She headed upstairs and found her room, leaving Willow to ponder just when Buffy started using terms like knackered in a sentence. Buffy found a pair of pajamas and tumbled into bed. Don’t know what hit me, she thought as she drifted off, but I’ll figure it out in the morning. Within minutes she was asleep.
 
Spike headed for his crypt in a similar daze, avoiding familiar tombstones automatically. Feel like I just went ten rounds with a Chirago demon, he thought muzzily. He got to his crypt and looked around. Was it always so empty up here? I swear I had more furniture than this. After a few moments he realized he had to go downstairs to find his bed. You’re getting senile, William, he chided himself. In his bedroom he took off his duster and looked around vaguely for a moment before realizing that he was searching for a closet which he didn’t have. Tossing his duster on a chair he sat to unlace his boots. Why am I so wiped? Nothing happened tonight, did it? He tried to review the evening’s events in his mind, but found that nothing was clear. A vague memory of kissing Buffy came to the fore, but he wasn’t sure if that had happened tonight, or some other night. He undressed, neatly folding his clothing and putting it in a drawer, oblivious to the piles of other clothes dropped here and there around the untidy space. He realized after another moment that he was looking for something to sleep in. Aggravated, he shook himself. The hell? You’ve slept in the nude for a century, you dope. He climbed in between the sheets and fell into confused and troubled dreams.