Evil Me by Eowyn315

Chapter #1 - Chapter 1

A/N: Much thanks to Tim, my darling beta for whom I named a character, only to kill him off in about 10 seconds. (I swear I didn't meant anything by it.) Chapter 1 Spike downed another shot of whiskey and closed his eyes, waiting to feel the effect. His absurdly strong vampire constitution meant he would run out of money long before he got really drunk, but maybe he could at least numb the pain a little. He flexed his muscles, feeling them out, wincing as they spasmed in response. That hellbitch sure had done a number on him. He could still feel a few ribs that weren’t quite in the right spot, and his arms felt like murder after hanging from the ceiling for so long. But hadn’t it been worth it? When Buffy came back to his crypt afterward. He’d thought she was the bot at first, but then she kissed him, soft and feather-light, and all he could do was stare at her in wonder, one of the rare moments when he was utterly speechless. Oh, he certainly wouldn’t blow it up to be any big thing. She only meant it as a thank you, a reward at best. “Thanks for letting Glory beat you to a bloody pulp.” “Good job on not getting my sister killed.” There was no way he’d ever have a real chance with her. Only when she was unconscious, isn’t that what she said? Spike caught a glimpse of blonde hair in front of him, amidst the wriggling bodies on the dance floor. He felt silly going after her, but he hadn’t seen her since his crypt and he just wanted to – “Buffy!” She didn’t seem to hear him. He tried to squeeze through the crowd to get closer. “Buff–” He cut himself off as he realized his mistake. The vibe from this girl was definitely vampire. “Sorry,” he said, as she started to turn around. “Thought you were someone… else. Oh, God.” He had to stop himself from retching as Buffy turned to him with a sly grin. “Hello, lover,” she said, sliding her hands along the lapels of his leather coat and wrapping her arms around his neck. With her body pressed against his, he could feel her empty chest where a heart should be beating. “Buffy?” His entire world seemed to flip inside out. She couldn’t be dead. She couldn’t be this. Pale and cold and reeking of death. Buffy pouted when Spike didn’t return her affections. “What’s the matter, Spikey? Aren’t you happy to see me?” She traced one finger along his jawline. Spike pushed her away, fighting back tears. “How did this happen?” She tilted her head quizzically. “How did what happen?” “You – you’re a – a –” “A vampire? Um, duh.” “How?” Spike was glad he didn’t need oxygen, because at this moment, if he’d had to breathe, he’d be hyperventilating. Buffy narrowed her eyes. “You know how, Spike,” she replied, her tone edged with annoyance. When his brow furrowed in confusion, she gripped his arm forcefully and jerked him toward her. “If this is a game, it’s not funny. Don’t act like you don’t remember turning me.” She might as well have kicked him in the head, for all the stars he saw in front of him. Then she did kick him, sending him flying straight through the brick wall of the Bronze and out into the street. The combination of slayer powers and enhanced vampire abilities had made her unbelievably strong. Spike groaned in pain. It was impossible. How could he have turned Buffy and not remembered it? The chip wouldn’t even have let him bite her. Yet here she was, standing before him, vamped out and mad as hell. “If I’d known you were gonna be a prick about it, I’d have staked you the minute I woke up,” she snapped, yanking him up by his collar, then slamming him into a pile of wooden crates. He tensed as the crates splintered under his weight, but thankfully, none of the pieces came near his heart. “You did this to me!” Buffy leapt on top of him and smashed her fist into his face. “You were the one who wanted me! And now you won’t even admit you sired me? You asshole!” She hit him twice more before he managed to throw her off and pull himself out of the rubble. She came at him again, kicking him in the chest with her spiky high-heeled boot, which sent him sailing down the alley and into the side of a building. The bricks cracked and crumbled behind his back. He staggered to his feet, scooping up one of the loose bricks and hurling it as hard as he could at Buffy’s head. It glanced off her temple, but she didn’t even blink as it hit her. Spike bent down and picked up a second brick, throwing with perfect aim as she stalked toward him. Before he even saw her move, she’d caught the brick and was pressing it against his throat, pushing his back up against the wall. “Don’t. Do. That.” Her lips pulled back in a snarl that revealed her fangs. “Buffy,” he croaked. “Yes, lover?” Her voice was silk, but it concealed a razor edge. She pressed against him seductively, one leather-clad thigh thrust between his legs, even as she crushed his throat. Spike hated the fact that he was attracted to her like this, but he drew on every last ounce of his strength and channeled all of his emotion into pushing off the wall and knocking her to the ground. With his body flush against hers, he leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Go to hell.” He grabbed her head and twisted, snapping her neck and pulling her head right off, collapsing onto the ground as she turned to dust beneath him. At least, that was the plan. In fact, he never got past the grabbing stage, because she was stronger than he was, and faster, too, and her hands were on his wrists before he even managed to twist. Her fingers crushed his joints until he released his grip, his hands hanging limply. She flung him over her head by his arms, and he smacked down on the pavement, his bones rattling with the impact. She was on him like a wild animal, kicking, punching, pounding him into the ground, scratching her nails down his chest and tearing his shirt to ribbons. His vision started to darken, spots fading in and out, connecting into larger patches of black. He lay still and let the merciful darkness swallow him up. ***** When he awoke, she was gone, and he was alone in the alley. As the gravity of the situation hit him, tears began streaming down his face, mixing with blood. Buffy was dead. His darling, precious girl, who’d been so full of life, was now a vampire. And she clearly didn’t like him much. Spike hissed in pain when he tried to move, testing his limbs for their cooperation. It took him three tries before he could get to his knees without immediately crumpling back to the ground. Why hadn’t she finished him off, staked him when he was unconscious? Must have been some residual attachment that kept her from killing her sire. Sire. Bloody hell. This couldn’t be happening. Maybe she’d just said it to be cruel. She must know that this was the last thing he wanted. He had to get to the magic shop. Even if the Scoobies hated him, they still needed to be warned. They’d invite Buffy into their homes, completely unawares. What if she’d gotten to them already? His heart wrenched as he thought of Dawn, drained dry by her beloved sister, the same sister who’d sworn to protect her. With renewed determination, he picked himself up slowly, managing to get to his feet and stumbling toward the Magic Box. He had to warn her friends. If they were still alive.

Chapter #2 - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Spike collapsed into the Magic Box, and was terribly relieved to see all the Scoobies alive and staring at him as if he were an alien that had crash-landed from outer space. “Spike! What happened?” Dawn rushed to his side, her eyes wide with concern. “Buffy,” was all he could manage. Giles turned to Xander. “Get Buffy.” Xander nodded and hurried back to the training room. “Spike, what happened?” Willow asked again, crouching near where he’d fallen. “Who did this to you? Was it Glory?” Spike shook his head. “Buffy.” He desperately tried to gather the strength to explain, but the pain was ripping through him. “She’s coming. Don’t worry.” “You don’t… understand.” He tried to get himself right side up, and Willow and Dawn helped him to a standing position. “Buffy’s a… vampire.” Willow raised her eyebrows curiously. “She’s a what now?” The Scoobies exchanged confused glances, but all attention was directed at Buffy as she burst out of the training room. “Spike! My God!” She rushed over to him. Spike’s whole body tensed when he saw her. He started to panic, but her scent startled him. He leaned in and smelled her carefully. “Uh, Spike?” Buffy backed away from him. “Kinda weirding me out here.” Spike heaved a sigh of relief and flung himself into her arms. The tears started to flow again as he grasped her tightly, breathing in her wonderfully human scent. “Oh, God, Buffy. I thought I’d –” He broke off as Buffy pulled away and held him at arm’s length. “Spike, what is going on? Who did this to you?” “You did,” he replied, as she helped him to a chair. “It was you, only – only you’d been - turned.” “Turned? A vampire?” Spike nodded. “It must have been a spell or – or a double or something. But it was definitely you, and you were –” He winced, one hand on his broken ribs. “Really pissed.” He looked up gratefully as Tara came over to him, bringing bandages and a wet cloth to clean him up. Dawn hovered nearby, ready to assist, while Willow silently began gathering spell ingredients off the shelves. “Great,” Buffy muttered. “Just what I need, another double.” Xander’s eyebrows shot up. “Hey, maybe it was the robot.” Spike scowled at him, while Tara eased his leather coat off, trying very hard not to move him too much. “It was a vampire, you git. I could smell her, feel her -” “Did you have sex with her, too, just to make sure?” Spike jumped up, ready to hurl himself at Xander, but his legs gave out and he fell into Tara’s arms. With her assistance, he sank back down in the chair, resigned. “Down, boy,” she said with a smile, as she gently wiped the blood off Spike’s face. “Unless you wanna add a migraine to your injuries.” “Might be worth it,” he said under his breath. “Look, it's not the bloody bot. I can tell the difference between a robot and the real thing.” Sure, the Buffybot had been a decent approximation, but he still couldn’t believe they’d mistaken it for the real Buffy. It was so damned perky. Xander snorted. “Didn't seem to bother you, though, when –” “Stop it!” Buffy cut him off. “Both of you. The robot is gone.” Willow looked up nervously from the potion she was mixing. “Actually, it's just down in the basement.” Buffy raised her eyebrows. “But it's still broken, so clearly not out beating people up.” When that didn’t assuage Buffy, she mumbled, “I thought I could fix it.” “I asked you to destroy it!” “I know, but - it's kind of interesting.” “We’ll see how interesting it is when someone uses your face to make a robot.” Buffy took a breath to regroup. “Okay, so there’s a vamp version of me running around. How?” “Anya!” Willow glared at her. Anya’s bug-eyed expression pleaded innocence. “What?” “Last time, when I had a vampire doppelganger, it was your fault!” Anya held up her hands in protest. “It wasn’t me, I swear.” “So, where did this other Buffy come from?” Tara asked, dabbing maternally at the bloody gashes on Spike’s chest with gauze. “Probably an alternate universe,” Giles suggested. “Perhaps a world in which events happened differently, resulting in Buffy, erm, becoming a vampire.” “Can we send her back where she came from?” Dawn asked. “’Cause, um, the idea of vamp Buffy? Kinda freaking me out.” “Well, of course, it’s possible to travel between dimensions,” Giles said, taking off his glasses thoughtfully. “In fact, Anya made it happen when she brought the other Willow here.” “But that was an accident,” Willow insisted, glaring at Anya once more. “There’s no way we could do that again.” “You’re probably right,” said Giles. “It requires very precise calculations and very specific rituals.” “Maybe with some research,” Tara suggested. “If we had more time…” She pulled Spike’s tattered shirt off over his head and began wrapping strips of gauze around his torso. Still in pain and somewhat dazed, he sat still, letting her do whatever she wanted “We don’t have time,” said Buffy. “There’s a vampire out there, walking around with my face. Probably killing people.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m gonna have to kill it.” Giles glanced nervously at Spike, who knew what he was thinking. Anyone who could do that much damage to a centuries-old vampire could surely take on a slayer. “Buffy, are you sure you can -” “I’m the slayer, Giles. She’s a vampire. It’s what I do.” She glanced around at the rest of them. “All of you, go to my house and stay there. And no matter what I say, don’t invite me in. You hear that?” She looked pointedly at Dawn. “Yeah,” Dawn replied. Buffy nodded once, then turned on her heel and headed into the training room to grab some stakes. “Spike, is that okay?” Tara fastened the bandage in place. “Yeah, love, thanks.” He eased himself out of the chair and pulled his T-shirt back on. The white gauze showed through the black shirt in strips. “Drink this,” Willow said, holding out the potion she’d been working on. “It’ll help you heal faster.” Spike nodded and chugged it down. He gagged at the awful taste, but he could feel it working almost immediately. When Buffy reemerged from the training room, Spike met her at the stairs and beckoned her aside. “Buffy?” She spoke softly enough that their conversation was private. “What is it, Spike?” She could barely look at his bruised and bloodied face. It was even worse that it had been after Glory had beaten him. Spike hung his head. “Buffy – Vamp Buffy, that is – she said that I…” “What, Spike?” she said, letting impatience slip into her voice. “She said it was me. I did it. The other me, I guess, from her dimension. ’S why she hit me, ’cause I didn’t remember turning her.” “Oh.” Buffy let out a long, shaky breath. Spike raised his hand to her face and brushed back a loose strand of hair. “You know I’d never – could never - hurt you. You know that, right, love?” Instinctively, Buffy pulled back from his touch, and she could see the pain etched on his face, cutting him much deeper than her double’s physical blows had. He locked his eyes on hers, pleading silently with his gaze, head tilted in that same mixture of disbelief and sorrow she’d seen when she’d revoked his invitation. “Spike -” A brief, resigned shake of his head, and the words died on her lips. Buffy backed away and headed out the door. “I have to go stake myself.” “Slayer!” Spike called after her. “Be careful. She’s stronger than you.” ***** “Everyone inside, quickly.” Giles herded them all into Buffy’s house. Spike, bringing up the rear, paused at the threshold, uninvited since the night Buffy’d had Willow do the de-invitation spell. “’S all right,” he said with a shrug. “I can just stay out here and –” Dawn rolled her eyes and grabbed his wrist. “Get in here, dorkus.” Spike smiled, ignoring the pain she was causing. At least one Summers girl still liked him. The Scoobies assembled themselves in the living room, trying to seem normal and natural, but it was impossible to ignore the restless anticipation when there was nothing they could do but wait for Buffy to come back. Already feeling better thanks to Willow’s brew, Spike paced the room, uneasy. “I don’t feel good about this – Slayer fighting her vamp self alone.” “Hey, evil dead,” Xander replied from his spot on the sofa between Anya and Willow. “Buffy said to stay here. Do what you’re told.” “She didn’t know what she was dealing with. I do. She’s gonna get killed.” “Bet you’d like that,” Xander muttered. Spike shot him a look that had daggers in it. “No, as a matter of fact, I really wouldn’t.” “Spike’s right,” said Willow. “We should help Buffy.” “How?” Anya challenged her. “None of us is strong enough.” Willow’s eyes shone with determination. “I might be.” Tara shook her head and stroked Willow’s hair from her perch on the sofa arm. “No, honey. You’re barely over those nosebleeds from that spell you did on Glory.” “I’ve gotta try, though.” Willow shook off Tara’s caresses and headed for the door. Spike veered in his pacing and followed. “I’ll go with you.” “Spike!” Giles called, stopping them in the foyer. “You barely escaped alive last time.” “I heal fast.” He glanced at Willow, with her hand on the doorknob, then back at the group. “Somebody’s gotta help Buffy. I’ve seen what that vamp slayer can do. Kicked me clear through brick walls like it was nothing. No way Buffy stands up to her alone.” “Spike?” said Dawn. “Willow? Be careful.” He smiled softly at her. “Will do, Niblet.”

Chapter #3 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 “You really shouldn't walk around alone at night in this town.” Buffy smiled patronizingly at the chivalrous young man who’d suddenly appeared at her side. “Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself.” “Nuh-uh. My mother raised me better than that. Where are you going? I'll walk you.” “Oh, ah...” Buffy briefly thought of lying, but she figured she could just ditch him somewhere along the way. “I live on Revello. That's awfully nice of you.” “I’m Tim, by the way. You’re Buffy, right? I think we had a class together last semester.” She smiled at him, in that way people smile when they have no idea what the other person is talking about, but feel they should play along anyway. “Oh, did we?” “It was art history. It’s okay if you don’t remember me. I mostly sat in the back and slept.” “That pretty much sounds like me, too.” She glanced surreptitiously over her shoulder and quickened her pace. They walked on for a little bit, Tim completely oblivious to the way Buffy kept scanning their surroundings, always tense and ready to spring at any moment. Without warning, she pulled him into a dark alley. “Let’s stop here for a minute.” “What? We really shouldn’t stop…” “Shh!” She pressed him against the wall so that he was hidden in the shadows. “I heard something.” She crept to the alley entrance and peered out. No sign of anyone, human or demon, in either direction. “See anything?” “No one.” Tim breathed a sigh of relief and willed his heart to slow down to normal. “Good. Okay, then –” Buffy silenced him by slamming him against the wall again, this time with more force. He couldn’t see very well in the dark, but he thought he detected a yellowish glint in her eyes. As she leaned in toward him, he realized the pretty girl he’d been escorting had morphed into a fanged, lumpy-foreheaded monster and he screamed. With her hand still planted on his chest, Buffy sighed and tilted her head girlishly. “I was going to say, ‘So there’s no one to hear you scream,’ but you probably wouldn’t have listened anyway.” She reached up and gripped his throat until the scream faded to a whimper. “I wouldn't do that if I were you.” From the alley entrance, Buffy stared at her vampire double, disgusted at the sight. Instinct told her to attack, but she hesitated, struck by morbid fascination. Vamp Buffy suffered from no such paralysis. She flicked her wrist, breaking the boy’s neck, and let him drop to the ground. Buffy flinched at the noise and a strangled sound escaped her. She fought down the bile that crept up into her throat and tried to focus on the demon at hand, even though she was looking at herself. “Who the hell are you?” snapped Vamp Buffy. “Buffy. The Vampire Slayer.” “That's funny. I'm Buffy… the Vampire.” “Glad to see I'm still quippy, even when I'm dead,” Buffy muttered. Then, louder, she said, “You're also in the wrong dimension, dumbass.” “You know, I thought something seemed different.” “Yeah, well, now I'm gonna have to kick your ass.” Buffy planted her feet and put her hands on her hips. Vamp Buffy laughed. “I'd like to see you try. I already wiped the floor with your vampire.” Oh, was that the wrong thing to say. Buffy’s face turned red with anger. “He is NOT my vampire!” She ran toward her double at top speed and tackled her to the ground. She got in a couple good punches, perched on the vampire’s chest, but then she was thrown off and slammed into the side of a building. She heard something crack, and she wasn’t sure if it came from her body or the wall. Vamp Buffy was on her again before she could even stand up, and she went catapulting down the alley and smacked into a dumpster. “Is that the best you can do?” Vamp Buffy mocked her. “I'm ashamed of myself!” ***** Spike skidded to a stop at the entrance of the alley and Willow nearly slammed into his back. He’d traced Buffy’s scent this far, and he spotted the two of them going at it in the alley. He winced as he noted the body slumped on the ground. And from the looks of things, their Buffy wasn’t faring much better. They had to act fast or Vamp Buffy would kill her. Willow glanced at Spike. “You sure you’re up to this?” “Don’t worry about me, Red. You work the mojo; I’ll get Buffy out of here.” They watched as the vampire threw Buffy against the wall again. She crumpled to the ground and lay there, unmoving. “Now, Red!” He hurtled himself into the alley, his black duster flapping behind him. He caught the attention of Vamp Buffy, who, at least for the moment, halted her attack on Buffy. “Come back for more, lover?” “Came for my girl.” He squared off with her and waited, hoping Willow would come through with the magic before the vampire decided to attack him. Just as she started to lunge at him, the dumpster came flying through the alley and pinned her against the wall. Spike quickly scooped up the unconscious Buffy and ran for the alley entrance. The dumpster narrowly missed them as it careened back across the narrow passage when Vamp Buffy shoved her way out. Spike reached Willow and turned back to check on Vamp Buffy, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “’Nother spell would be good about now.” “Working on it.” Willow muttered some quasi-Latin, gathered energy between her outstretched hands, and then hurled it at Vamp Buffy. Just before it hit her, it flattened out, forming a shimmering transparent force field all around her. She threw herself against it in a bizarre parody of the mime-in-an-invisible-box routine, but she couldn’t get out. Spike nodded approvingly. “How long will she be stuck like that?” “Not sure. But I’d suggest running fast.” ***** Dawn peered out the window for about the eighty-seventh time since Spike and Willow had left. “What’s taking them so long? They should be back by now.” Giles pulled her away from the window and into a chair. “There’s nothing we can do but wait, so let’s just try to be patient.” “I could try a locator spell,” said Tara. “And then what?” Anya replied. “Go after them? Good, then we can all get killed.” Xander sighed. “Ahn, no one’s getting killed.” After a beat, he added, “I hope.” “Oh, great, it’s the optimism squad,” Dawn grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. Xander jumped up off the sofa. “I’m gonna make a sandwich. Does anyone else want a sandwich? I’m making sandwiches.” He started to head for the kitchen but stopped dead in his tracks and spun around when the front door swung open. They all heard, “Buffy!” followed by a loud grunt as Angel ran full-force into the invisible barrier preventing him from entering the house.

Chapter #4 - Chapter 4

Chapter 4 “Angel?” Xander noticed that the vampire was uninvited. “Huh, that’s weird.” “You’ve gotta get Buffy!” Angel cried from the porch. “She has to invite me in; you’re all in danger.” “Yes, thank you,” Anya replied. “We’re aware of that.” Giles gestured toward the door. “Ah, Dawn, could you?” “Wait a minute.” Xander held up a hand to stop her. “How do we know he’s not evil?” “I’m not evil!” “Good enough for me,” said Anya, in that tone of voice she used sometimes where no one was quite sure if she was serious or sarcastic. Angel’s eyes bugged out with anxiety. “Please, just –” “What are you doing here?” Xander demanded. “I’m not sure. I went through a portal. I – I was following Buffy.” “Vampire Buffy,” Tara clarified. “Yes. So, you know?” Angel peered at them through the doorway. “Buffy – our Buffy – is taking care of it now.” Moderately convinced that Angel wasn’t dangerous, Giles gestured to Dawn again. Dawn looked uncertain, but she gave the invitation. Once inside, Angel explained to them how the Willow and Giles of his world had come up with a plan to go back in time, using some sort of spell, to get to Buffy before she was turned. But the spell hadn’t worked and instead of ending up in the past, they’d traveled to another dimension. “How strange,” said Giles. Ever the scholar, his mind was already puzzling through the intricacies of such a spell that could have caused this result. “Tell me, what –” He was interrupted as the door burst open again, this time revealing Willow followed by Spike, still carrying an unconscious Buffy. “Clear the couch!” Spike placed her down as soon as the sofa was vacated. “Buffy, love, wake up.” He grasped her shoulders and shook her. “Buffy!” Xander grabbed his arm. “I don’t think shaking her’s gonna do any good.” “Spike?” Buffy’s eyes fluttered open and his movements slowed to a halt. “I’m okay.” She lifted her gaze to take in the rest of the group. “I’m okay. I – Angel?” Her voice was soft and breathy with disbelief. He was immediately at her side. “Buffy.” Spike’s jaw tightened, steeling himself to be pushed aside in favor of the souled vampire, but he didn’t leave his perch next to Buffy on the couch. “He’s not your Angel,” Anya said. “He’s Vamp Buffy’s Angel, who, as it turns out, is from an alternate dimension. With, I should add, no help from me.” She directed this last comment at Willow, who rolled her eyes. Buffy sat up and tried to digest all of the information being thrown at her. “I – oh – um. Sorry, my head’s a little woozy.” “It’s all right, love,” said Spike. “Lie back.” “What’s he doing here?” Angel eyed his progeny with a suspicious gaze. Spike, never one to back down from a challenge, stood and faced him. “It’s okay,” Buffy said wearily. “He won’t hurt us.” “Buffy, it’s Spike!” Angel’s facial expression indicated that she should realize the danger. “I know that,” she told him, with more force in her voice now as she suddenly realized what she’d known all along. “And I’m saying we can trust him.” “Are you sure about that?” He eyed Spike again, then looked hard at Buffy. “He’s the one who did this to you. To the other you. My Buffy.” She sighed. “I know, Angel. But it wasn’t my Spike who did it.” At the possessive term, Spike’s head jerked toward Buffy. Their eyes met again, just as they had earlier in the Magic Box, but this time, she gave him what he’d asked for. His face softened into a small, grateful smile, which she returned. “This Spike just saved my life. And before that, he nearly died trying to save my sister.” Angel furrowed his brow. “You don’t have a - oh.” He looked over at the unfamiliar teenage girl who’d invited him in. “I guess that’s you.” Dawn rolled her eyes and asked Buffy, “What did you see in him?” Spike smirked. He knew there was a reason he liked the little bit. Angel shook his head. “It’s just - things are different here. My Buffy doesn’t have a sister and –” “And in our world you ditched us and went to L.A.” Dawn didn’t bother to hide the bitterness in her voice. Even though they were Buffy’s boyfriends, they were a part of her life, too, and she felt just as abandoned as her sister did when they left. While Angel’s departure was now years ago, Riley’s sudden disappearance had reopened old wounds that hadn’t quite healed yet. “Look, this is all terribly interesting,” Giles cut in, rescuing Angel from the open-mouthed, speechless reaction he was having to that information, “and once we’re all out of danger it would be lovely to sit around and discuss the differences between our dimensions, but I really think we ought to focus our attention on defeating this vampire version of Buffy.” “Well, what are we going to do?” asked Anya. “She’s already kicked Spike’s ass - and Buffy’s. And Willow’s not looking too hot, either.” Willow’s head snapped up. “Hey!” “Yes, thank you, Anya,” Giles said. “Now if anyone has anything useful…” “I had this idea,” said Willow. “When we were trying to find ways to fight Glory. Remember when we all joined with Buffy in that mind meld thing to defeat Adam?” “Yeah, not doing that again.” Buffy got up from the couch. “I really don’t wanna tempt the wrath of the First Slayer right now.” “No,” Willow agreed, “but if Buffy merges with a different power source, she’d be more powerful. Maybe powerful enough to defeat a much stronger opponent.” “Who – or what – did you have in mind?” asked Giles. “Dawn.” Buffy didn’t even need to think before answering. “No.” “She’s pure energy, right?” Willow argued. “If we could tap into that, without –” “No!” “But –” “It’s her life energy,” said Buffy, unconsciously moving to stand between Willow and Dawn. “You can’t take it away. What if it kills her?” Willow grimaced. “It wouldn’t take that much.” “I can’t. I can’t do it.” “What about someone else?” Tara suggested. “Someone else stronger than human.” Willow nodded, acquiescing. “We could try combining essences with a vampire, to give you the same advantage as Vamp Buffy.” “I’ll do it,” Angel immediately offered. “No, I’ll do it,” said Spike, not about to let Angel lay claim to Buffy and any melding that might occur. To his surprise, Buffy nodded her approval. “I’m gonna need some stuff,” Willow said. “From the Magic Box. Tara, can you help with the spell?” “I can try.” “Let’s go then,” Buffy said, taking charge once again. “You, me, Tara, and Spike. And Angel,” she added, glancing at him. It couldn’t hurt to have a little more muscle. “The rest of you st–” “Nuh-uh,” said Xander. “We’re not staying here.” “We’re all going this time,” Anya added. Buffy pleaded with them with her eyes. “I need you to keep Dawn protected.” Just beyond her vision, she could see the image of the guy in the alley, could hear his neck snapping, could see herself killing him. No, she couldn’t let her friends anywhere near this battle. “Buffy, if you think there is any way you’re going to leave me here while you go off and do something dangerous, you are seriously deluded,” Dawn told her. “I’m not sitting around and waiting to find out if you’ve been killed.” Buffy looked anguished, possibly on the verge of a breakdown. Spike quickly stepped in and offered a compromise. “Look, a few of us will go to the Magic Box, get the mojo, and come back here right quick.” “And fight the vampire where?” Buffy asked. “Here. Outside.” Spike indicated the front lawn with a tilt of his head. “Everyone else stays inside, safe in the house.” Buffy closed her eyes briefly and sighed. “Fine. How do we get my vampy self over here?” “Oh, she’ll come.” Spike glanced at Angel, who nodded solemnly. “They always come home.”

Chapter #5 - Chapter 5

Chapter 5 “Hurry.” Buffy scanned the darkened street, shifting nervously from one foot to the other as the Scoobies set up the spell on her front lawn. Tara and Willow poured blue sand in a circle about four feet in diameter, while Xander set up large cylindrical candles around the perimeter. Anya followed behind him with Spike’s Zippo lighter. Spike pulled out the two charms they’d made at the magic shop, each one with a gem – two halves of the same translucent green stone – fastened to a leather cord so it could be tied around the bearer’s neck. Handing one to Buffy and putting the other on himself, he caught her anxious glance. “You all right, Slayer?” Buffy was silent for a moment, studiously rubbing at the dirt with her toe. She seemed about to answer that she was fine, but then she sighed, defeated. “I froze. Before.” “The boy?” Buffy looked up at him in surprise, then she nodded. “You can’t save everyone.” He knew it wouldn’t placate her, but he said it anyway. She shook her head. “You don’t understand. It was me, Spike. I killed him. I watched myself -” “No, you didn’t. A demon killed him. A demon who looked like you, yeah, but it wasn’t you, Buffy.” “But it could be.” She turned to walk away, then spun back to him. “You don’t know what it’s like. To be faced with – to know that evil is inside of you.” Spike smiled ever so slightly. “I know a little about that, pet.” She fell silent, watching the Scoobies as they prepared the spell. “Buffy…” “If it happened again – If it was one of my friends or – or Dawn –” Her voice broke. “I’d never forgive myself.” “They’ll be safe inside.” “But what if I –” “You won’t.” There was a quiet intensity to his voice, and when she met his eyes, she found it echoed there. He held her in his gaze until Angel came sprinting up the street. “She’s nearby,” Angel said. Buffy looked away from Spike. “Everybody inside. Giles, we’re ready.” The others headed into the house as Buffy and Spike stepped into the sand circle. Giles handed Willow a book, already opened to the right page. As she and Tara started to chant simultaneously in Latin, Buffy and Spike each held up their right hand and clasped them together, their fingers intertwining. They locked eyes again, this time reaching deep into the other, as their strength began flowing back and forth through their joined hands. Spike allowed Buffy to pull the strength slowly out of him, storing it up in her own body. “All right, release your hands.” Giles coached them from the open living room window as Willow and Tara continued chanting. As soon as Spike let go, he could start to feel the connection breaking. “Concentrate!” Giles barked, and Spike focused on Buffy, blocking out everything else. He felt the energy building a second time, and the flowing thing started up again, this time without the physical contact. “Buffy,” said Giles, “remember your training. Focus inward. Draw in your strength. Now step out of the circle.” Buffy carefully stepped backward until she was completely outside the circle. Spike gritted his teeth, trying to keep the connection together as they separated. “Good,” Giles told them. “Now just –” “And what do we have here?” Buffy’s voice snarked from the street. “Yoga class?” At the sound of her own voice, the real Buffy spun around to face her double. “Man, you kids just never quit, do you?” Vamp Buffy glanced up at the house with a grin that sent shivers down Buffy’s spine. “I guess you’re just gonna keep bothering me until I kill you all. Like gnats. Like tiny. Annoying. Defenseless. Bugs.” She matched her steps to each word as she approached the slayer. She stopped directly in front of Buffy. “Squish.” Her hand shot out, faster than any of them could see, backhanding Buffy and knocking her to the ground. Spike grunted as she fell, feeling her pain right along with her. He concentrated hard, pushing her up, back to her feet, and then she was fighting back, matching her vampire double blow for blow. “Goldilocks learned a few tricks, huh? Your vampire can’t last forever. Then what are you gonna do?” She managed to slip past Buffy’s defenses and landed a kick that sent her reeling into a parked car. Buffy bounced off the hood and fell to the ground again, smacking the crown of her head on the asphalt. “Buffy!” Angel strained to get out the front door, anxious to help, but Xander and Anya held him back. He was no match for Vamp Buffy, and their firm grip – one on each arm – was the only thing preventing him from getting himself killed. Spike balled his fists and clenched his teeth as Buffy fought to stay conscious. He could feel pressure building in his head, felt the sharp pain where she’d hit as well as a throbbing in his temples and forehead. Neither one of them had been at their full strength when they started the spell, and it was all they could do now to hold on. “Don’t worry,” Vamp Buffy said, flipping herself over the hood of the car to land in front of Buffy. “I won’t kill you. I’ll make you like me.” “Evil psycho vamp? No thanks.” Buffy used the car to pull herself back upright, but Vamp Buffy was on her before she could get to her feet. She yanked her up by the throat and slammed her against the car again, breaking the windshield. “There’s no one more suited to be a vampire than us. We’re already killers.” Buffy flinched at the word, but kicked the vampire in the stomach and gained a few seconds as her double reeled backwards. She reached down inside herself, as far as she could go, pulling strength inward from the charm that was magically linking her to Spike. “I’m not a killer. I’m a slayer.” She leapt off the car and charged again, this time backhanding her vampire double and following it with a roundhouse kick. She spun around and jumped into ready position, preparing for Vamp Buffy’s next attack. She ducked a punch, then used her forearms to block several jabs, but stumbled as a kick to her temple seemed to come out of nowhere. “Is there a difference?” Her vampire doppelganger kept up the conversation with ease, even as Buffy was panting with exertion as they exchanged fierce blows. “Just because you kill demons? You’re still a killer. You’ll always be a killer. But that’s the beauty of being a vampire. You can kill whoever you want without that pesky conscience.” The vampire punched Buffy hard enough to snap her head back, and then hit her with an off-center kick that forced her to spin to keep her balance. Before she knew what had happened, Vamp Buffy had her, one arm twisted painfully behind her back, her head jerked to the side to expose the tender flesh of her neck. Vamp Buffy pulled her flush against her body, vamping out for the kill. “It’s no less than Spikey would’ve done for you.” “No!” Angel broke free of his mortal restraints and rushed out of the house, throwing himself at the pair of Buffys. The distraction was enough for Buffy to get free, as Vamp Buffy went after Angel. Within moments, she had snapped his left arm and left a large gash across his face, from his ear to his chin. He cried out in pain as she kicked his kneecap, knocking it out of joint. Angel tumbled to the ground, unable to put weight on his leg. “Aww, poor Angel,” she purred. “So valiant. So – sentimental.” She jammed the heel of her boot into his groin for good measure, causing him to curl up in the fetal position with an anguished moan, then turned back to Buffy with an eye-roll. “God! He’s a disgrace to the species. Now there” – she pointed to Spike, her eyes revealing a shade of lust – “is a fine specimen. Pure, beautiful evil. Glorious violence.” She cocked one eyebrow thoughtfully. “Though he’s looking a little peaked at the moment.” Buffy, having recovered slightly during the brief respite, came flying at her double, swinging the mailbox she’d uprooted from the foot of the walkway. It shattered into pieces against Vamp Buffy’s head and shoulder, but the vampire stayed on her feet. Buffy tried to stake her with the remnants of the mailbox’s wooden post, but Vamp Buffy landed a hard blow on her wrist and the makeshift stake clattered on the walkway. “Let me end this. Save your vampire. You’re sapping his strength. I can give you new strength.” “I’m strong enough, thanks.” Buffy followed up with a series of karate kicks, most of which Vamp Buffy managed to block. Vamp Buffy threw a punch, but Buffy caught it before it reached her face and used the momentum to thrust her enemy backwards, knocking her to the ground. Buffy leapt on top of the vampire, and the two of them wrestled on the grass. They rolled over a couple times, until Vamp Buffy ended up on top. She pressed her hands against Buffy’s throat, cutting off her air. “Are you? Are you strong enough?” Buffy kicked and struggled helplessly, trying without success to pry the vampire’s hands away. Spike gasped, falling to his knees. He kept feeding Buffy his energy, until his entire body ached all over, like he’d worked every single muscle past its breaking point. Blood began pouring out his nose while Buffy struggled to get free. He could feel them both losing consciousness as it became harder and harder for her to breathe. He could feel it coming, washing over him, no matter how hard he tried to fight it. He felt the connection slipping away… Then, suddenly – “Dawnie, no!” He didn’t know who screamed it, but the next instant he felt her grab his hand in her tiny one. With her other hand she clasped the charm around Spike’s neck. Power surged through her and into Spike, and it felt like he’d stuck his finger in an electric socket. A searing pain engulfed his head, as though his skull were exploding, and bursts of color swam before his eyes. Then he collapsed in the middle of the circle, unconscious.

Chapter #6 - Chapter 6

Chapter 6 The house was plunged into sudden darkness as the electricity failed all along the block. Streetlights sputtered out and bright residences were engulfed in shadow. The only light that remained was that which came from the spell on the Summers’ front lawn. The Scoobies watched in amazed horror as a green glowing aura engulfed the circle, emanating from Dawn. The flames of the candles surrounding them erupted into mini infernos, sparks flying, each flame magnified in size as the Key’s energy entered the spell. An agonized, inhuman scream came from Spike as he slumped over next to Dawn. She stared at him, terrified, but bravely maintained her grip on his hand and the charm, using him as a conduit to power the slayer. Buffy felt the surge of energy and burst out of her vampire double’s grasp. She was stronger now, she knew it. She was powerful. She could win. Buffy leapt to her feet and began fighting furiously, throwing punches and kicks too fast for any of her friends to even see. Vamp Buffy snarled and charged at her, but she dodged the attack with ease. Without missing a beat, Buffy pulled out a stake and waited for an opening, knocking back her double’s punches as she went on the defensive. Vamp Buffy forced her back across the lawn with a series of blows, finally managing to land a kick that dropped Buffy to the ground. Buffy locked her legs around Vamp Buffy’s and with a twist of her hips, they were both on the grass. Like an animal, Vamp Buffy lunged, knocking the stake out of Buffy’s hand, her fangs scraping along Buffy’s jaw as Buffy threw her aside. Buffy kipped back up and reached for the extra stake she had tucked in her waistband at the small of her back, and Vamp Buffy took the opportunity to grab her from behind. She tried again to sink her teeth into Buffy’s neck, but Buffy thrust backwards, smashing the vampire into a tree. While Vamp Buffy was still recovering from the impact, Buffy squirmed and broke free of her grasp. Spinning around with lightning speed, her arm shot out and the stake slammed into the vampire’s chest. Buffy watched her likeness crumble to dust and heaved a deep sigh. She only relished her victory for a moment, though, before turning back to her friends, who’d come tumbling out of the house as soon as the fight was over. Angel, too, had picked himself off the ground and was hobbling toward the group. “Dawn!” she cried. As her eyes adjusted to the night, now lit only by the moon, she caught sight of her sister huddled in the circle next to an unmoving Spike. The green glow of the spell had faded and all the candles had blown out. “Oh, Dawnie, what did you do?” She broke through the throng of Scoobies and clutched Dawn to her. “You could’ve been hurt – or worse.” “You needed me.” Dawn was shaky and crying a little bit, but otherwise okay. When she pulled away, she looked concerned. “Buffy? I think I killed Spike.” Buffy glanced down worriedly. His face was white – even more so than usual – and the blood stood out in horrid contrast. She started to check for a pulse but stopped herself when she realized the senselessness of it. “He’ll be okay,” she assured Dawn, although she wasn’t completely certain. He wasn’t dust, though, so surely he’d recover, right? “Come on.” Buffy helped Dawn to her feet, repeating to herself over and over not dust not dust. “Let’s go inside, okay?” ***** Angel was waiting in the living room when Buffy came downstairs. “How’s Spike?” he asked, more for Buffy’s sake than out of any real desire to know the answer. “Still hasn’t woken up.” After the big battle with her vampire self, Buffy had brought Spike back in the house to recuperate. He’d been sleeping in her mother’s room for three days, and hadn’t stirred since he collapsed in the circle. Buffy was starting to worry that they really had killed him. She rubbed her hand over her eyes. “I feel like it’s my fault. If I’d let Dawn do the spell from the beginning, Spike never would have been hurt.” “You didn’t know what would happen,” Angel said, having recovered almost fully from his own injuries. “You were trying to protect Dawn.” “And I’d probably have beaten vampire me a lot easier.” She looked up at him. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. That you couldn’t get your Buffy back.” Angel shook his head. “We knew it was a long shot anyway. I mean, if there were really any way to un-vampire someone, do you really think I’d still be here?” Buffy smiled sadly. “You did what you had to do,” he said. “What happened to her?” Buffy asked, not sure she really wanted to know. “I mean, Spike, I know, but how?” “He came back to Sunnydale. We hadn’t seen him in two years – not since that time he kidnapped Willow and Xander. Did – did that happen here?” She nodded. “He broke up with Dru and wanted a love spell?” “Yeah. So he comes back, and he just – he had an invite to the house. I guess nobody thought to revoke it, it’d been so long…” “What did he do?” “He took your mother.” Buffy had to fight to keep her knees from giving out and sending her tumbling to the ground. Her mother was alive. In Angel’s dimension, her mother was – “He held her hostage, and then you – she – Buffy came home, and he offered a trade. He didn’t want to kill Joyce, he said. He wanted the slayer. So she fought him, right there in her living room” – they both glanced around the room as if they could picture it happening right then – “and he beat her. He won.” Angel choked up, and Buffy thought he was going to cry, but he composed himself. She should have known better. Angel would never let someone see him cry, not even her. “But why turn her? Why not just kill her?” “Because he was in love with her. He had this sick fantasy that he’d turn her and she’d be a replacement for Dru.” Buffy swallowed hard. “Did that work? I mean, was she -” “I don’t know,” Angel said. After a moment, he admitted, “I didn’t really want to know. We grabbed her as soon as we could, and we tried to, you know, we tried the spell.” Buffy was silent for a while. When she finally spoke, she said, “I can’t imagine going back to your world, the Hellmouth with no slayer.” Angel caught her gaze and studied her carefully. “You could come with me.” Buffy’s heart wrenched. She thought about it for a moment, really considered it. A world where she and Angel were still together, where her mother was still alive, where there was no Glory. It was almost like having the chance to go back in time and erase the past awful year. Angel’s eyes pleaded with her, his last hope of being with the woman he loved. He reached out and pulled her closer, one strong hand on the back of her neck, tipping her head up to look at him. Those dark eyes that pooled with emotion, the comforting, familiar curves of his features, beckoning her to a different life, the life she’d wished for so many times. She was tempted. But she wasn’t that girl anymore. Even the promise of an Angel who loved her and would never leave her – who would traverse time and space to save her – couldn’t recapture the feelings she’d slowly let slip away when this dimension’s counterpart had left to go to Los Angeles. Especially when she’d never be able to replace the feelings that had begun to develop in the past few days, for the heroic, self-sacrificing vampire still sleeping in her mother’s bed. She couldn’t throw away the trust they’d built, so new, so fragile, and yet so deep, reinforced by a spell that had required complete trust in one another, and created an emotional bond that had not severed with the spell’s ending. She’d be giving that up for a world whose Spike had already killed her once. And most importantly, it would be a world with no Dawn. Now, more than ever, she felt connected to her sister, couldn’t give her up for anything in the world. She couldn’t trade her, not even for their mother. A tear slipped from her brimming eyelid and made a trail down her cheek. “I can’t. I belong here. I’m sorry.” Angel nodded, releasing her from his embrace. “Yeah, okay.” He gave her an ironic half-smile. “Guess if we need a slayer, we could always bust Faith out of prison.” Buffy was skeptical, but she returned the smile, blinking back the rest of her tears, grateful to him for easing the tension. “Good luck with that.” She paused awkwardly, unsure of what else to say. “So, Giles and Willow have your thing all worked out? They know how to get you home?” “I think so. As good as it’s gonna get. You wanna come down to the magic shop, watch them pull the lever, so to speak?” Buffy looked up the stairs wistfully. “I should stay with Spike. Just in case he wakes up.” “Yeah,” he said again. “Okay.” Just like her Angel, she thought. A man of few words. “It was nice – seeing you,” she told him. “Angel and I haven’t really – It was nice.” “Good luck.” He kissed her gently on the lips before heading toward the door. “You, too,” she called after him.

Chapter #7 - Chapter 7

Chapter 7 Buffy sat curled up in the rocking chair next to Spike’s bed, where she’d been sitting every spare moment for the past three days. She chewed on her thumbnail, watching him anxiously. He looked peaceful, like he was sleeping. But his chest didn’t rise and fall like a human’s would. He was perfectly still. He looked dead. She winced. He’d need blood soon. Three days without blood. He wouldn’t heal if he didn’t drink. She’d swallowed her pride and gone to Willy’s – he’d need the good stuff to get better, pig’s blood from the butcher wouldn’t cut it – and brought home several pints that now sat in her refrigerator, hidden in carefully-labeled paper bags so no one would be grossed out if they went poking around for a snack. She wondered if she’d be able to force feed him, tilt his head back and pour the blood down his throat. Would he choke on it? Did vampires choke? If they didn’t breathe… She swallowed the lump forming in her own throat. “Wake up, Spike,” she pleaded, her voice no more than a whisper. “Please, just wake up.” She couldn’t stay here anymore. She couldn’t sit here and watch him like this. The waiting would drive her crazy. Maybe she was already crazy. Pushing herself up on the arms of the rocking chair, she unfolded her legs from under her body. She had to get out of the room. Take a walk. Slay something, maybe. A little adrenaline to get the blood flowing again. She was almost at the door when she heard him whisper her name. “Buffy?” She whirled around and was at his bedside instantly. “I’m here.” His eyes opened slowly, painfully, his eyelids stiff. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “Did we win?” “Yeah, Spike, we won.” Perched on the edge of the bed, she smiled at him, stroking his forehead. His eyes darkened. “Niblet shouldn’t have –” “Shh. Don’t worry about it. She’s fine. Everything’s fine now.” “How long was I out?” His voice was getting closer to normal now. He struggled to sit up, and she propped up the pillows behind him and eased him back against them. “A long time. How’re you feeling?” Spike groaned. “Like I got run over by a truck.” “I should get you some blood.” “Not just yet. Stay.” His hand was lying on top of the covers, near her thigh. She took it in hers and began making circles on the back of his hand with her thumb. “Do you know what happened?” she asked. “Why you conked out?” Spike tilted his head back, resting against the headboard. “I dunno. Dawn came into the spell and it was like my brain just… exploded.” Buffy nodded. “Willow has a theory. Or – or, anyway, she said it was a possibility, when you woke up.” She looked at him. “Hit me.” “What?” He furrowed his brow, confused. “Pinch me, anything. Just try to hurt me.” Spike looked down at her hand holding his, and he wrapped his hand around her middle finger, bending it back almost to the point of snapping it. “Ow!” she cried, yanking it out of his grasp. “Sorry, love, I – wait. That didn’t hurt.” Buffy nodded again. “Will thinks the magic may have fried the chip. Something about too much mystical energy making technology go wonky. You also knocked out the power on the whole block, by the way. But that’s – that’s not the point. That pain you felt –” “Was the chip malfunctioning. Brilliant.” He settled back to ponder this new development. “So I guess all bets are off now. You gonna kill me, Slayer?” “Not unless you hurt somebody.” He glanced up in surprise and found her looking at him tenderly. “Spike, you’ve done more than enough to prove…” She trailed off and started again. “I know you really meant it, when – when you said you wanted to be good.” She understood that now, more than ever, and she wanted desperately to believe in him. Risk the pain. “You have that chance now. Without a muzzle.” Spike gazed at her in wonder. “You mean that, Buffy?” She took his hand again. “Yeah.” “What about the others?” he asked, intertwining his fingers with hers. “Rupert, your friends, they’re not gonna like the idea –” “Let me worry about them.” Buffy ran the fingers of her free hand through Spike’s hair. Without really thinking about it, or the consequences, she bent down and kissed him softly, like she had when she was pretending to be the Buffybot, except this time it wasn’t about saying thank you. As she pulled away, he stared at her, his eyes full of awe and affection. She gazed back at him, seeing his love for her so evident in his expression that she wondered how she’d ever denied it existed. How did he manage it? How could he face rejection so many times and keep coming back to her, never daunted or discouraged? How did he find such depth of love for someone who’d never returned his feelings, who’d never even shown him a scrap of kindness until he’d almost died to save her sister? Chastened, she started to get up, to go downstairs and warm up some blood so he’d have something to eat, but he stopped her, pulled her first by the hand, then both his arms drawing her in, wrapping around her, urgently pulling her close to him. Then he kissed her, with every ounce of strength left in his body, pressing his lips firmly against hers, not so soft anymore, full of desire and passion, all the emotions he’d been holding inside for months, pouring out of him. She kissed him back, giving in, melting into him, felt his lips parting as the kiss deepened and their tongues mingled, swirling, dancing, to the ever-present cadence of a slayer’s voice: Love… give… forgive… She pulled away first, needing to catch her breath. She paused, her face inches from his, and she studied his eyes. So blue. His hand came up and brushed the side of her face, his beautiful blue eyes questioning, hoping, searching for assurance. She wasn’t sure if she could give him what he asked for, but she felt her past resistance fade away, replaced with tenderness and affection, willing to see where this might lead. They considered each other for a moment longer, neither of them speaking, then she got up. She shut the door behind her, but stopped before going down the hall. She reached up and laid her hand on the door, her fingertips caressing the wood as gently as she had Spike’s skin, almost as though she could still feel him across the distance. She tilted her forehead until it, too, rested lightly on the door, and she sighed, a slight smile on her face. ***** the end