A/N: Don't be too mad at me for the lack of Spike in this chapter. ;) Hugs and thanks to slaymesoftly for betaing, and to always_jbj for making this amazing banner.

~*~


Sunnydale, 2001

Buffy sought shelter in the abandoned building that she and Spike had once literally brought down by their violent coupling. She was mentally and physically exhausted. Twenty-odd hours of surreptitious detective work on an empty stomach tends to have that kind of effect on a girl, slayer or not. She was tired, hungry, in desperate need of a shower, and now battling waves of panic battering her already-frayed nerves. What if it’s too late? What if I can never go back? What if Jeffery’s already accomplished what he came here for? What if….? The ‘what ifs’ flitted across her mind in a ceaseless loop, until she found herself too spent to even think, much less strategise. I’ll think of something in the morning, she promised herself, finally giving in to the exhaustion. She sank down against a pillar and shifted around until she was as comfortable as the position would allow.

“Buffy? Buffy! Are you alright?”

She had just begun to drift off when she felt her shoulders being seized and shaken gently. She forced her eyes open with some reluctance, mildly irritated at being awoken. Her sleepy gaze was arrested by a pair of concerned, hazel eyes and all vestiges of sleep vanished when she recognized the face they belonged to.

“Riley?” she croaked, her voice slightly hoarse from several hours of disuse.

“Buffy, thank god! What’s going on? Why are you sleeping here?” he asked, his brow creased with worry.

She gulped, frantically scrambling for a way to explain her presence to him without letting on that she wasn’t his Buffy. “J-just tired,” she stammered. Yeah, that’s why you’re passed out in an abandoned building instead of your warm, comfy bed, snuggled up with your honey.

“How did you find me?” she asked. I was so careful.

“I was patrolling and I saw you duck into the alley.” He shrugged unapologetically. “I thought you might be in trouble, so I followed you.”

How am I going to get out of this?

He gently brushed an errant lock of hair off her face, and smiled. “Hey,” he said in that soft, caring voice she hadn’t heard in years. “Let’s get you out of here and into bed, ok?”

“No!” Buffy exclaimed and stood up hurriedly, pulling herself away from Riley, who looked at her with confusion.

“No? I don’t understand. You prefer to sleep here?” he asked incredulously.

“Buffy, what’s going on?” he demanded when she didn’t answer. He didn’t miss the trapped look in her eyes. “Does this have something to do with your mom?”

Mom! In all the craziness, she had forgotten about her. Guilt flashed through her. How could I have forgotten what’s going on with my mom? She squeezed her eyes shut against the pain memories of her mother’s illness always brought.

Seeing her distress upon his mention of Joyce, he took a step closer and cupped her cheek with a callused palm. “I understand how you’re feeling, Buffy. Please don’t shut me out. You don’t have to be strong all the time. Let me help,” he pleaded.

As he watched her, waiting for her response, he noticed that there was something different about her. His eyes narrowed imperceptibly as he scrutinized her. A few things about her appearance suddenly popped out at him – there was something different about her hair, both her face and figure seemed fuller, and her eyes….her eyes gave him most pause. His perusal was interrupted when she finally spoke. He pushed his troubling observations to the back of his mind for the moment.

“No, this has nothing to do with Mom,” Buffy said wearily, shivering against the warmth radiating from his hand. She weighed her options and made a decision. Let’s just hope it’s the right one. “I’ll go with you - ”

The relief on her ex-lover’s face was palpable. He put his arm her waist. “Great! C’mon, let’s get you tucked into bed. We can talk in the morning, ok?”

She edged away from his embrace as discreetly as she could and shook her head. “No, we’re not going home. We’re going to get me something to eat first, and then to the Magic Box. Can you call the gang and ask them to meet us there?”

“Buffy, it’s two a.m. Are you sure this can’t wait till later?” Riley asked, puzzlement written all across his face.

She shook her head again. “No. I’ll explain everything once everyone is there, I promise.”

She prayed that she was making the right decision by involving the others. She knew doing so risked the future, but she hadn’t been able to come up with any solutions to her present quandary by herself. So, she figured she needed help - if she was ever going to find Jeffery and get back to her future. She had no illusions about her prowess, or lack thereof, when it came to fixing problems that involved magic. That wasn’t her forte, she knew. And now that Riley’s seen me, things have already changed. If I disappear without explanation, they could get worse… right?

~*~

A satisfying pizza, and forty-five minutes later, Buffy and Riley were at the Magic Box. They were confronted by a sleepy Xander and a grumpy Anya.

“Hey guys!” Buffy greeted them with a smile, marveling the evenness of her tone, given that her Anya was long-dead. They’d been perfect for each other, she thought, as she looked at her two friends together for the first time in years.

“Ah, the Buffster’s here!” Xander said by way of greeting, drowsiness no impediment to his cheerful disposition. “So, what kind of Slayer business brings about this early morning huddle? No wait, let me guess – does it involve frolic, merriment, and near-death hijinks?”

Buffy’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “With a dash of intrigue.”

Anya huffed and glared. “Well you’d better have a good reason for depriving me of my morning orgasms.”

Buffy couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh believe me - it’s a real doozy,” she assured her. Anya harrumphed, but offered no further objections.

Minutes later, Giles , Willow, and Tara entered. Buffy reacted even more emotionally to seeing Tara than she had Anya. She wanted to embrace the witch and tell her how much they all still missed her. Instead, she schooled her expression into what she prayed, was a casual, friendly smile, afraid that one wrong word or glance from her would reveal the shy witch’s tragic future.

The girls greeted her cheerily, whereas Giles’ hello was laced with concern. “Buffy, I take it something terribly important has come up, for you to rouse us at such an early hour?” he asked, taking a seat at the table.

Seeing them all assembled there, looking at her expectantly, made her stomach clench in fear. She found herself questioning the soundness of her decision for the umpteenth time that night. Too late now for second thoughts, she scolded herself.

She swallowed her nervousness, met their collective gaze, and took the plunge. “I’m not your Buffy. I’m from the future.”

She allowed them a few minutes to process her bombshell, knowing the questions would fly fast; and that they did, after a couple moments of stunned silence.

“Good Lord! What…how…” her Watcher stammered uncharacteristically. “What brings you here?”

“Wow, Buffy….” Willow said. There was a mixture of astonishment, curiosity, and excitement on her face. “How distant is this future you come from?”

“That explains your somewhat improved fashion sense,” Anya nodded, passing a critical eye over Buffy’s attire. “A bit worse for wear, though.”

“Ooh, our very own McFly!” Xander exclaimed, rubbing his palms together and looking gleeful. “Where’s your time-machine?”

“If you’re from the future, then where’s our Buffy?” Riley asked last. He was taken back at her revelation, but not to the extent the others were, given his earlier observation that there was something amiss about her.

Tara was the only one who remained silent, though her eyes spoke volumes. She studied Buffy intently and noted that her aura was indeed different from what she had seen before. She sensed a calmness about it that was completely lacking in their Buffy’s. And though both girls’ auras were similar in their intensities, this one’s had touch of something – something iridescent, the likes of which she’d never before seen, and couldn’t quite define.

Buffy opted to answer the simplest question first. “She’s at the house.”

“Look, I know you have a lot of questions, but I don’t think I can answer most of them. I –”

“Buffy’s right,” Giles interrupted. “Any knowledge we have of the future could alter it irrevocably.” He gave Buffy a hard glance. “I assume you have a good reason for jeopardizing the future?”

If Buffy was hurt by the accusation in his tone, she hid it well. “It was an accident. All I can tell you is - there was a guy, a flashy, swirly thing, he jumped through, I tried to stop him.” She grimaced. “Clearly, I failed.”

Her Watcher’s stern expression melted, to be replaced with one of concern and a healthy dose of curiosity. “I see. So, you ended up here?”

Buffy nodded. “We both ended up here. I was -” She paused to collect herself, as the despair that had overwhelmed her upon losing her bond, threatened to resurface. “Disoriented. He got away. I tried to find him but…..” her voice trailed off.

“I take it you were unsuccessful?” Giles prodded. He immediately relented upon seeing the dejected slump of her shoulders. The poor girl has obviously been through an ordeal. “I think you made the right decision in coming to us, Buffy. I imagine this is a terribly difficult position for you to be in – knowing what events are to transpire, wishing you could help, maybe change past mistakes. I have to confess, I don’t envy you.” Giles had taken off his glasses, and was polishing them in that diligent manner so typical of him. He slipped them back on and looked at her kindly. “You must tell us a little as possible so that we can help you find this chap and return to your time.”

Buffy returned his smile gratefully. “Thanks, Giles. I guess I should tell you this if you’re going to help me – I think he’s looking for Glory.”

“Glory?! The demon-chick who’s been getting her happies throwing our Buffster around? That Glory?” Xander exclaimed.

“Yup, none other.”

Buffy wasn’t surprised to see the alarmed look her Watcher was wearing. She remembered that none of the Scoobies had known at this point just what Glory was after. She and Giles were the only ones who knew.

“Um, guys,” Willow spoke hesitantly. “Shouldn’t we call Buffy – our Buffy?”

Riley, who had been remarkably quiet all this time, got up hurriedly. “Willow’s right. We should bring Buffy in on this.”

“No!” Buffy rapped out sharply. “Your Buffy has a lot going on right now. We’ll tell her after it’s over.”

“After what’s over?” He looked at her blankly.

Buffy’s eyes were misty with the reminder that here, in this time, her mom was still alive – sick, but alive. “Mom,” she said in her little-girl voice. “Her mom’s surgery.”

The realization that this Buffy had first-hand knowledge of everything that was going to happen with them, including her own mom, suddenly hit them like the proverbial Mack truck. Their awkward glances did little to hide the question at the forefront of all their minds – was Joyce going to be alright? Buffy wished that she could tell them that everything would be ok. The truth, she knew, was that everything was not going to be ok – it was all going to go to hell. Again. And there was nothing she could do to stop it. Again.

“This will be hard on her,” she heard Riley murmur, mostly to himself. She felt a twinge of pity for him. She knew full well how much her inability to lean on him had hurt, leaving him feeling isolated and unwanted. She also remembered what that had driven him to do, and wondered whether her arrival would change that, and if so, for better, or worse?

“That’s why we can’t tell her – yet,” she told him gently. She won’t tell you, but she needs you. Your presence will help her, Buffy wanted to add, but refrained from doing so. Instead, she said “All any of you can do is see her through this.”

Giles rubbed his forehead and frowned. He was already experiencing the beginning of what promised to be a painful headache. Unfortunately, given his job description, headaches were an all-too-frequent occurrence. “Buffy, did your future self put in an appearance in your past?”

Buffy shook her head, also frowning. “No. Do you think that means something?”

He answered her with another question. “Do you think it possible that you didn’t know?” He gestured to the rest of them. “But we did?”

She chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. Was it possible? “I don’t know….I guess so.”

“But if you didn’t know, then you can’t be sure that what’s happening now didn’t happen in your past!” Willow said excitedly. “May be this is exactly how it’s meant to happen.”

“Maybe,” Buffy conceded, though far from convinced. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see what happens now. Maybe I’ll catch Jeffery and get out of here before your Buffy ever finds out.” She let out a long sigh. She’s been doing that a lot since she’d come through the portal.

“Well that’s settled for now then,” Giles said. “No one is to say a word to Buffy about this – at least for the moment, or until such time that it becomes necessary. Buffy, may I suggest you stay at my place while we determine where this chap of yours could be?”

Buffy gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Giles. I really need to catch some shut-eye. Research, first thing in the morning?”

He nodded. “Yes, I think a couple of hours of sleep will do everyone some good. Willow, Tara – why don’t you look up spells for time-travel. It’s possible that it will fall to us to send Buffy back, even if this -” He looked at Buffy. “What did you say his name was?”

“Jeffery.”

“Even if we manage to apprehend Jeffery. Buffy and I will work on locating him. The rest of you, I suggest, focus on helping Buffy – our Buffy that is.” Nobody voiced any complaints over Giles’ suggestion that they get some sleep and they filed out of the store silently, each lost in private reflection.