Just Another Diabolical Plot Gone Awry by msclawdia

Chapter #1 - Chapter One

I've been posting this at the Spuffy Haven, as a challenge response. I was going to post at the BSV when it was complete, but I'm getting a bit stuck and I'm hoping some of my fine BSV readers can help with some feedback. So, please let me know whether you love it, hate it, etc. One important note for understanding the first scene: I always thought it was blindingly obvious that the whole ridiculous demon eggs thing was an attempt to get Buffy money. In fact I thought for a long time that there was an actual line of dialog along those lines. There isn't. But that's how I continue to interpret that mess. Chapter One Why could he not just leave her alone? She was trying to train and work out some of the tension her morning shift had bored into her. And her recent method of working out the kinks was no longer an option, even if he didn't seem to get that. But of course he'd come sneaking through the sewers to see her. Buffy rolled her eyes at Spike for what had to be the tenth time in the space of three minutes. "Spike. I cannot quit my job. And what do you care anyway?" "Would free you up." "To do what?" He smirked and thrust his hips forward slightly. "Could think of something." She took a step back from him. "So never happening again," she hissed at him, heading for the stairs. "So you keep saying, pet." Buffy sighed and stopped walking. "It's over, Spike," she reiterated, more gently. "I can't do this any more. And I have to keep working. In case you hadn't noticed, Dawn is growing like an irradiated hamster. She probably will already need new clothes tomorrow." "Can get Dawn her kit and whatever else you need. I told you, I can get you money." She was trying, really trying not to just blow up at him. Because for a while there, before she'd been dumb enough to sleep with him, Spike had been becoming a friend. But this was really too much. "Because that went so well the last time?" she demanded incredulously. He had the grace to look embarrassed at that. She started walking again, knowing he'd still follow a step behind. "Please, let it go. Let me go." "Buffy!" he called out, and she ignored him, which turned out to be a really bad idea. Because he'd probably been trying to warn her about the glowy nimbus of light she'd just crashed through. It was like being crushed flat and then reinflated upside down. She tumbled onto the grass and gulped for breath. "Buffy? What's happened? Are you alright?" Spike was standing over her, looking at her curiously. Only it wasn't Spike. Because his hair was all wrong and he was wearing glasses. And also because the sun was beating directly against his back and he wasn't exploding. Oh, and there was a tiny baby strapped to his chest. He reached out a hand then quickly drew it back. "You're not Buffy." -------------------- She should have been paying better attention, Buffy scolded herself. If she'd noticed that hooded jogger sooner, he wouldn't have bumped her right into whatever freaky portal or wormhole or whatever she'd just fallen through. Unless the guy had meant to push her. It figured; this was just her life. Slayer tries to be a good wife and mom, go out on a little stroll with the family before dinner; slayer gets thrown through some sort of magic door. She fell out of the light into a pair of cool hands. Fighting against a wave of dizziness, she spun and pulled her stake. "Bloody hell!" the vampire protested, sounding vaguely familiar as he knocked her weapon away. Cool skin pressed against her throat and her wrist, and then a hard leg trapped both of hers against the wall. When she blinked him into focus, she felt queasy. "Spike?" "That was some light show, you put on," another male voice put in. She lifted her head and what looked like Xander goggled at her. "Buffy?" "Looks like her," Spike answered. "But it's not her. She fell into some sort of portal or something. This one came out." "Yeah, I kinda noticed that, what with the big flashy and…. Hey! What's... what's happening to her, um, chestal area?" Buffy looked down and sighed at the sight of an ill-timed letdown. At least the vampire with her husband's face took his dead hand off her and gave her some air. She took a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest. "So your Buffy went through a shiny blob of light, and so did I? How about we call Giles and get started on getting us put back in the right places?" The two men exchanged looks. "I'll raise Red," Spike volunteered, heading for the stairs. Xander just stared at her for another long moment before shrugging off his flannel over shirt and offering it to her. ---------------- They looked so... sad. Buffy was intensely grateful for whatever was different back home to make them all... not like this. And only half the crew was there, which was odd. Unless this was the crew in this dreary place. She needed to get home, immediately. William was going to be in a total panic. She rubbed at her rings, glad she'd lost enough weight to get them back on. This Anya had an engagement ring on her hand, which was beyond unsettling. Willow, who was dressed like some sort of Ren Faire reject, seemed to be the official spokesperson for the group. "So, you have a baby? How old is the baby?" she asked finally, like that was remotely relevant at the moment. Classic Willow. "Not quite three months. So I'd kinda like to get home soon." Her body ached at the separation. Xander cleared his throat. "Can I ask the question of who the lucky guy is? I mean, if it's anyone we'd know." This was not going to go over well with this crowd, she could tell. Spike wasn't even sitting at the table with them. He was pouting in his own little corner -- and also still a vampire. When he noticed where her eyes had gone, Xander made a choked sound. "Spike? You're married to Spike?" Willow was getting all wobbly mouthed. "Is this because of the spell? I mean, is this my fault?" Spike shot Willow a nasty glare, which was probably not helping matters any. When he saw her disapproving glance he slumped back in his chair and crossed his arms like a scolded teenager. He was such a pouty pants when he was a vampire; she had forgotten that. "Well, you did a spell like that once too, but he was still a vampire then." "Still a vampire now," Spike grumbled. "No you're not," she replied. "At least, not in my world. Thanks to Willow." "I made him human?" Willow asked, looking a little dazed. "No," Buffy laughed. "You know, you did the whole soul-curse thing. He didn't get all sanshued until later." "She did what?" "I did what?" "How is the lack of footwear related?" Buffy was officially confused. Spike looked like he might spring across the room and throttle Willow. "So," she asked Spike, "you don't have your soul?" "No, thank Christ." "It never even occurred... I mean, why?" Willow whimpered. "I mean, even before he was a vampire, he was all Jack the Ripper and--" Buffy couldn't help herself. She burst into a hail of giggles and had to sit down. "What?" Willow cried anxiously. Spike gave her a look that was so thunderous she decided there had been enough big reveals for one hour. She struggled to compose herself. "Never... never mind. You did the soul spell shortly after the whole engagement fiasco." "And that's when you two st-started dating?" asked Tara, whose presence was a bit of a mystery. She shook her head. "God no!" She loved her Spike now, but before the change he had been so... for one thing there was the whole vampire-with-a-soul thing that she wasn't up for a second round of. Plus he'd been so bitchy to her friends, no matter how much he was making sad puppy eyes at her when he thought no one was looking. "But he started helping us then, and there was this prophecy. So after he helped us with the whole Adam thing..." When they nodded in acknowledgement, she went on. "Bam! Heartbeat. It was a little unsettling for everybody. But we all adjusted, eventually." "What a bloody nightmare," Spike groused under his breath. "Oh yeah, it's been just terrible," she snapped at him. She had forgotten just how much the pulse had improved his personality. Although he had been pretty irritating at first. All pouty and touchy about being weak until he started training with Giles and then the council. He'd been gone most of the summer, and she hadn't even thought about him really, except to argue a few times with her mother about whether he should start working in the gallery. Buffy lost the argument. So because he had started assisting her mom at work, she knew he was back in Sunnydale, but she hadn't seen him. The Celtic Festival in the park was Willow's idea. Buffy had to admit it was fun. She'd expected it to be campy or filled with Lord of the Dance types. But instead there was great music and beer and groups of little kids doing complicated dance routines that she didn't think she could manage even with slayer grace. And weapons, lots of weapons being displayed and sold in booths around the park. Some of the dealers were demons, but the harmless types. "Geek hotness at 2 o'clock," Willow pointed out. "What? I'm taken, not blind." Buffy wrinkled her nose. She too was taken, but not blind. And Willow wasn't wrong. He had wavy, fair hair and there were definite muscles under the navy tee and blue jeans. He was apparently haggling with the sales guy about the sword he was hefting. He handled it like he knew what he was doing too. She always had liked a guy who knew how to handle his weapon. She giggled a little. "How can you tell he's a geek?" Willow shrugged. "We tend to recognize our own," she laughed back. "So, I'm not wrong, then?" "No," Buffy admitted. "There is a definite heat quotient." Then he turned in their direction and they both gave a little 'glah' of recognition. Because it was Spike. And he’d just given them that shy smile he’d developed and ambled over to stammer out a hello and offer her the sword as if it were a bouquet of daisies. "Buffy? Are you okay?" The sound of the present Willow's voice shook her out of her memory. She nodded quickly. "Look, if we could just maybe figure out how to get me home, I'd really love that." "Of course, Buffy," Willow assured her. "We'll figure it out." "I'll take you home," Xander volunteered. "Probably you should let me go in first, explain things to Dawn." "Sure," she agreed. "Who's Dawn?" ----------------- I'll post the next chapter tomorrow. Thanks for reading and (hopefully) reviewing!

Chapter #2 - Chapter Two

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and reviewing. Please keep the comments coming. And of course, huge thanks to kar and zanthinegirl. I also realize I forgot to mention in the opening chapter that constant readers might recognize the human Spike from my story ‘Reflections.’ When that posted, some folks expressed interest in hearing more of his story. When I saw this challenge I thought it was a good chance to do that. Chapter Two She had become his world the moment she'd pulled him out of the depths of his own self pity. Spike had been languishing in his crypt, a broken bloody mess of guilt and howling when Buffy had descended his ladder with what he still swore was a halo around her hair to inform him that he was pathetic and that if he could manage to get himself together, she had a job for him. A chance to do some good and maybe get a start on working off his massive debt to the planet. Buffy always denied it, especially the halo part, but she had made him hers in that moment. Not that she had wanted him at the time. He was just something she felt vaguely responsible for and a potentially useful asset in her annual fight to save the world. Before Willow's curse, he'd thought of her as mostly an intriguingly clever bit of alright that he wouldn't mind putting it to a time or three before he ripped her throat out. After the curse he hadn't thought of her at all until she appeared from out of the dark to slap sense back into him, literally. It certainly hadn't been a promising start, he mused with a smile, but he'd somehow proven himself worthy of her. This other though, this Buffy who was not his wife, seemed horrified at the prospect. She stared at him from across the dining room table as he stroked Celia's soft little head, trying to calm himself down. The others were on their way, and maybe they could help him make sense of what had happened. If he hadn't seen that tear in the world open up and swallow his wife, he might have been a bit more suspicious of the stranger sitting across from him. From what he could tell, she was what she said she was. Willow would let him know if it was a lie. He hoped her friends were being so accepting of his wife. She looked older than his wife. For all he knew, she was older than his wife. It was a bit much to take in. He concentrated on the soothing thud of his daughter's heart against his own and stared back at the double. “Mum will be home soon,” he whispered when Celia stirred in her sleep. "So... she's really yours? Does that mean you've been warm-blooded for a while?" "Obviously," he replied tersely. She held up her hands. "Sorry. Back home you're all sunlight-allergic, okay? This is just a little strange for me." "She's beautiful," she added after a tense moment. He smiled at that. "Indeed she is." He didn't deserve one iota of the bounty he'd received since his life had become a life again. But he'd do everything in his power now to keep his girl safe from the likes of what he'd used to be. He gently squeezed her tiny foot. "What?" he asked as her gaze on his face stayed intense. "It's just... you in the sunlight. It's nice." The smile she gave him was such that for a moment he forgot that she wasn't his wife. But that wasn't a mistake he wanted to make again. -------------- Dawn, as it turned out, was a snarky teenage girl with shampoo commercial hair and so much distrust in her eyes that Buffy almost took her for a slayer. But no, she was just her sister. Which was an entirely different kind of weird. The teen kept those suspicious eyes on her all through Xander's explanation. Left alone with the girl, Buffy felt extremely uncomfortable. "So, you and Spike?" the girl asked after Xander left, headed back to the Magic Box to help the others research. Buffy really wanted to go with him. Buffy nodded. "I'm sure that seems really strange, with him being a vampire here and all." "Not really," the girl said dryly. "My sister is sleeping with him. Or she was. She doesn't think I know, but I'm not stupid." "But! But, he's still a vampire!" The girl shrugged. "That's kind of a thing with her." "But she stopped?" "I guess." "Does everyone know, or just you?" "Please. They'd all be freaking out like you are right now. So, I guess you guys didn't hook up while he was still all grr?" "A world of no." "So, what? Spike turns human and all of a sudden, he'd dateable." "It really wasn't like that," she protested, not liking the girl's tone at all. "I was still with Riley when it happened. Spike and I didn't... happen until later." Dawn made a noise. "Riley? Did he bail on you while Mom was dying too?" It still made her a little mad, although in retrospect she had to admit Riley wasn't entirely wrong. It was so hard, being strong for everyone. She wasn't sure exactly why it was easier to talk to Spike. Maybe because he'd had a sick Mom or because he was friends with her mother too. Or maybe just because he'd happened to catch her having a breakdown on the porch, and it was easier to just keep being honest with someone who had already caught her and knew she wasn't as totally fine and okay as she thought she needed them all to think she was. Even if that person was in love with her. "Pretty much," she admitted. How much harder had it been for this one, she wondered, having the responsibility of looking after a sister on top of everything with Mom? To change the subject, Buffy whipped out the pictures of the baby and started regaling the teen with tales of momdom. "It was when Drusilla came back," Dawn blurted. "Wasn't it?" The speed with which the girl had done the math was astonishing. And a little embarrassing. She'd stopped taking her pills when Riley left, and it had taken her awhile to figure out what was going on because her hormones were all out of whack and everything was happening so fast with Mom. But yeah, Drusilla's visit had really brought a lot of things that had been simmering underneath boiling up to the surface. It wasn't just her he'd disappeared on. He hadn't been to the gallery either, and her mom was really worried. And really worried was the last thing Mom needed to be. Buffy was angry and maybe just a little panicked when he didn't show up. It wasn't like him at all; he was always around, whether she wanted him there or not. Which, more and more, she did. It was the corpses and dolls on the train that let her know a certain vicious psycho was back in town. When she finally found her, the vampire was red-mouthed, ranting and screaming. It was a hard, desperate fight on both their parts, and Buffy was bleeding herself by the time it was done. She called out for Spike, but didn't get an answer. When she finally found him, it was obvious why. He'd used some kind of spell to seal his mouth up. There were two seeping holes in his neck. He wasn't going back. Giles did the spell to release Spike and helped her get him back to the house. She let him clean up and then carefully bandaged him with her bedside kit. "Where's your mum?" "Hospital. More tests. I already called her. She was worried. We were all worried. Especially me." "Were you?" She smiled, and then she kissed him, and then she settled in his lap and pushed the borrowed robe off his shoulders. And from there it got a little racy for her to tell to the other Buffy's sister. "Spike does magic?" was the girl's comment. She seemed to find this not terribly credible. "Well, he can't rip a demon's head off quite as easily as he used to, so he relies on other talents," Buffy explained. "Huh." She made a face. "What?" The face stuck. "I just can't really imagine Spike as a guy." "Trust me. He's better as a guy." She wrinkled her nose. "What is that smell?" she asked, striking a battle pose. The younger girl rolled her eyes as she rose to fling open the door. Dawn skittered out of the way of a smoking Spike with a stack of boxes cradled in one arm. He looked like crap. In addition to a few smoking spots on his pants he looked like he'd gone five rounds with a Polgara demon. "You're hurt," Dawn scolded him. "Scratches," he scoffed. "Brought you dinner." Dawn looked skeptical at first; then her eyes lit up. "You got cinnastix!" the girl squealed with delight, grabbing one of the boxes and rushing into the kitchen to lower the blinds. Spike followed her, barely sparing a glance at Buffy, and tossed some cash on the kitchen table. "What's that?" "Big sis said you needed clothes." Buffy watched Dawn stare at the crumpled pile. "Spike, where did you get the money?" "From creatures far less pleasant than myself, Niblet. Might as well take it. Just... let's not mention it to herself when she returns." Dawn quickly pocketed the money. And then her entire body seemed to deflate. "We are going to get her back, aren't we?" Spike petted the girl's shoulder a few times. "Course we are. Now then, homework's done?" The girl glowered at him, but after she'd fixed a plate she grabbed a backpack and tromped up the stairs. Spike gestured at the food. "Tuck in. Can hear your stomach fussing." It was her turn to glare at him. She couldn't quite figure him out. The soul-less Spike she'd known would have staked himself rather than steal pocket money for some kid. Well, he'd have stolen readily enough, but it would all have gone for cigarettes and cheap booze. She wasn’t sure what to make of his donation to Dawn. "Do you do that a lot? Beat up demons to buy the slayer's kid sister new blue jeans?" He snorted and patted his jacket down before producing a cigarette and lighter. "You know, love, for being married to me you don't seem to like me very much." "I am not married to you," she hastened to clarify. "You don't exist anymore." "Is that how you think it works?" he asked, looking amused. She glared at him, refusing to answer. "Didn't do it for the money, did it for information. Which none of them had, so I took their cash instead." "Classy," she muttered. The smell of the pizza was making her stomach growl, but she didn't really think she wanted to eat anything he'd procured by violence. Then again, the fridge was pretty empty. "When Buffy's gone I take care of the Bit. Doesn't require your approval." That made her wonder how often this other Buffy was gone and where she went, but Spike was crushing his cigarette out in the sink and heading for the living room. She heard the television click on and when she peeked in, he was splayed out on the sofa, remote in hand, looking almost exactly like her husband. It was so weird to think that William had been made out of this, or maybe it was the other way around, or a little of both. One thing was certain though, the corpse on the couch was not her husband. ----------------- Please keep the feedback coming. I'll post the next part tomorrow. And I've gotten through my writer's block so I should have some more written soon.

Chapter #3 - Chapter Three

Author's Note: Thanks again to kar for the beta job and to zanthinegirl for the amazing feedback. And big thanks to all my readers and reviewers. Please keep the comments coming. Chapter Three Buffy still really wanted a shower, but at least she'd gotten to change clothes. Spike had politely told her to she was welcome to borrow something from upstairs. In fact he had been shockingly, like, gentlemanlyabout everything – opening doors, showing her around, offering her something to drink. It was a little like that night Spike had stolen someone else’s laundry and taken her on that ridiculous fake stake-out/date, only without the bourbon. The townhouse's master bedroom contained a four-poster bed, a bassinet, and confusing looking garments with hooks and flaps over the chest. She had better luck in what looked like a guest room, with a closet full of what she guessed was the resident Buffy's 'before' wardrobe. In the hall there was a framed photo of her mother and a big picture of the two of them in white on a beach. They were looking at each other instead of the camera, and it was a little queasy-making, because she’d seen glimpses of that expression on Spike’s face before, but it was weird to see the same kind of feeling reflected on her face. Even if it wasn’t really her. Downstairs, Spike had the baby on a blanket. The little girl was smiling at him and waving her little legs. Buffy studied them from the doorway. It was sweet, really, and totally nothing she could have ever imagined. On the rare occasions she found herself futilely thinking about what it could be like if she and Spike were a real couple, it never looked anything like this. Spike in khakis and glasses, reciting nursery rhymes to a gurgling girl was just deeply strange. It was kinda nice though. Willow came in with Oz, which wasn't really so shocking. It was cute watching how they still had that same way with each other. And apparently Oz was the key, so to speak, to the whole lack of apocalypse-averting suicide by her motherly counterpart. As Willow explained in an adorable check out the awesome on my guy way, Oz -- being a demon -- had gotten wind of the whole Ben/Glory thing and so when the Monks came on the scene, they were able to take down the Beast well before work on the tower even started. Buffy decided not to get too detailed about how very differently things had gone in her world. For one thing, she still wasn't clear on what had happened to Dawn or whether there had ever been a Dawn to begin with. But she was distracted from the question when she caught sight of Anya and Giles through the front window. It looked like an argument, and maybe it was, but her brain basically went tilt when they started kissing and making up. Buffy pulled herself together, trying not to look too nauseated and politely answering them as they asked their questions. She could tell they didn't quite believe her, and she could tell that Spike was getting increasingly agitated by the lack of ideas from the assembled Scoobies. "Where's Xander?" she blurted, realizing suddenly that there might not even be a Xander, or that he could be dead or living in Kansas in this universe. "Right here, not-really-Buffster." Buffy swiveled around to watch Xander stroll in, looking thinner and more relaxed than the Xander she was used to. With Andrew Wells following a step behind. Tucker's brother gave her an odd look but just took a seat next to Xander. Who casually dropped a hand on Andrew’s knee. "I need some water!" she declared, escaping to the kitchen. The question, she decided, was whether she should tell any of them that back home Xander's.... boyfriend was trying to kill her, or at least annoy her to death. But then just when she thought she'd maxed out her wiggens meter, the backdoor opened. "Real me! You're home! Spike said you were gone!" She found herself wrapped in two strong arms and looking into her own gleefully smiling face. Flailing a little in the tight embrace, she managed to smack the off switch and caught the falling body in her arms. Marching into the living room, she tossed the thing on the couch and turned to confront the astonished faces. "Giles?" she decided on the spot. "Could we have a little private chat?" --------------------- "So, like a big white wedding, or...." "No. Well, white was worn, but it was pretty quiet. It was so soon after Mom... but with Celia on the way, we didn't want to wait too long. We did one of those barefoot on the beach things." "Spike on the beach? That's... not computing for me." "He loves it now that he can, you know. He really missed it." Buffy had started to relax and enjoy herself a little when he ruined her fun. It was actually kinda neat to be able to flop out on her old girlhood bed next to her best friend and tell old stories to a new audience. It helped her ignore her achingly full breasts and the panicky feeling of not knowing how or when she was going to get home. Then his gloomy face appeared in the doorway to break up the party. "You lot find anything useful?" he demanded of Willow. "Not... not yet," she admitted. Spike made some sort of unpleasant noise and turned his attention to her. "Right then. I'll patrol. See you birds later." "I'll come with you," she blurted on impulse, almost immediately regretting it. "Suit yourself," he shrugged. With a sigh she followed him out the door. He didn't talk, just kept moving toward downtown without even looking at her. "You're in a mood," she muttered. "Red's supposed to be working on how to get your home, not quizzing you about your sweetie bear." She had forgotten what his hearing was like before the change. On the other hand he shouldn't have been eavesdropping. "Are you always this charming?" she demanded. "No wonder you two are a big secret around here." That seemed to hit home. He paused in mid-stride and made a gesture that she was fairly certain did not translate to I value your input. Then he sighed. "You know, sometimes I do miss watching the sun rise." "I was talking about him, not you," she pointed out. He sniffed at her. "Think it's so cut and dry, do you? I was him once, and he was me." She shook her head. "You just remember each other. It's not the same thing." "I suppose that's a convenient way for you to think of it," he scoffed. Buffy was seriously considering heading back to the house when a couple of Bone-eaters popped out from behind a tree. She had to give him credit; he could fight. He enjoyed it more than was really necessary though. She had forgotten about that too. It was like he read her mind. "Nothing wrong with a little fun, slayer." "Hurting things isn't supposed to be fun." He rolled his eyes. "No wonder you two get along so well, pair of joyless gits." She stared him down. Who the hell did he think he was, and he was just so ridiculously off base. "There's plenty of joy, thank you." He smirked at her and his eyes went funny as he stepped well into her personal space. His eyebrow quirked. "See you know who you can thank for that, then." How the hell did the other her put up this? "You know, maybe if you weren't such an asshole, she wouldn't have broken it off," she suggested as calmly as she could manage. "You don't know anything about it!" he protested, with what sounded like genuine pain in his voice. And for a disconcerting minute there, he was just like William, every little emotion etched across his face, the vampire swagger totally stripped away. Then he was gone in a dramatic swirl of black coat and scowl. With a sigh of relief, she headed back toward the house. She'd had enough fighting for one night. Willow was sitting at the kitchen table when she came in. Buffy kept forgetting that her friend lived in this house too. "Sorry," she said preemptively. "Still nothing. I called Giles, and he's talking to his coven pals over there to see if they have any ideas." "Where was he today anyway?" The other Buffy's friend gave her a puzzled look. "Somewhere in London, I guess." She closed her laptop. "This is news to you?" "Kinda, yeah," Buffy said, feeling a little confused. "I mean, he's my -- her watcher. And watching? That's kind of hard to do from across the pond." She sighed. "How is Anya handling it?" By the time Willow was done explaining the romantic attachments in their group, Buffy felt a little dizzy. It was just so very bizarre to imagine Willow and Xander with girls, especially Xander with Giles's girlfriend. Although that was slightly less unsettling about thinking about Giles with Giles's girlfriend. "Can I ask you something else?" she blurted. "What's with me and him here?" Willow opened her mouth and then closed it again. "You mean Spike? I guess they're, I don't know, simpatico? There's this weird bond because he's got some sort of obsession with her so he did things like let himself get pounded nearly to pieces rather than give up Dawn to Glory." "But, why? I mean, no soul, right?" "Yeah. We're not one-hundred percent clear on why's he's doing any of this. He would tell you that he loves her. Which used to freak her out, but he actually was a lot of help and then when she came back from the dead; they got really close and she started talking to him more. They patrol together sometimes, I guess. But I think they're on the outs again. She hasn't really told me. There's... a lot Buffy doesn't tell me anymore." "Came back from the dead?" When Willow had finished telling that story, Buffy decided it was time to go to bed before she had to learn anything else unsettling about the other her. But Spike was in the other Buffy's room, going through her jewelry box. "What the hell are you doing?" He didn't really respond to her, just kept poking through her double's private things before finally extracting a necklace. "This might do," he muttered. She waggled a stake at him. "So might this if you don't tell me why you're swiping her stuff." He gave her a thunderous look. His eyes looked... puffy. "One would think if Red could wrest her from heaven, she could pull her back her from whence you came." "Yeah..." That actually had occurred to her too. "But that doesn't explain why you need her necklace." Spike shoved it in his pocket. "Willow's not the only witch in town." She felt a shiver. "Spike! You can't just turn her stuff over to some random black arts guy in the hopes--" "It so happens that I am not completely daft," he interrupted calmly. "Taking this to the whitest of wiccas, a cleaner version than the girl downstairs as it happens." She looked him over slowly. "Why do you care so much?" He went all William-faced again, dropping the scowl. He wasn't looking at her. He was staring at the empty mirror instead. "Wouldn't believe me if I told you." Then he sighed, gave her a nod, and leapt out of the window. ------------- Next time: Buffy has a long chat with the Bot and Other Buffy finds herself even more puzzled by Spike. I'll post the next part tomorrow, and hopefully have a new chapter to my beta soon. Please keep the feedback coming! It's really helpful.

Chapter #4 - Chapter Four

Author’s Note: Thanks to Kar for the beta job and to my readers for their reviews and patience. “Trying to kill you, you say?” “Well, they kept making me live the same hour of my life over and over again. And they stole a diamond. Oh, and also, they made me invisible, which almost turned me into pudding!” She could tell Giles was not buying it, and then his forehead furrowed. “Stole a diamond? From the museum?” “Yes!” she replied, relieved that he had made a connection. He removed his glasses. “That has remained an unsolved mystery.” He sighed. “I shall try to keep an open mind and see what evidence I can gather without alerting the others.” “Thank you,” she sighed, giving him a wan smile. “I don’t know if they’d believe me.” She took a deep breath. “It’s… it’s really nice having you around.” He slid his glasses back on and gave her a look, but let it drop. “I’ll talk to the others. Perhaps you should consider giving the robot a second chance. She’s been extremely useful in hiding Buffy’s condition from the demon community.” “I’m sure she’s been useful for a lot of things,” she snipped. “Did I do something wrong?” The robot was standing in the doorway, looking as forlorn as it was possible for a plastic person to look, Buffy figured. “I didn’t mean to.” "Is that what Warren programmed you to say when the real you gets mad?" she asked archly. Buffy thought she caught the ghost of a smile cross her watcher's face. "I was initialized with a number of scenario response scripts, however my programming has evolved over time as I learn from experience." “So, what was your, like, original mission?” The robot drew herself up proudly. “I am to pretend to be the real me, so that both people and demons will mistake me for real me, in order to protect real me and her family.” Her face fell a little. “But I should not make Spike think I am real me, not ever again, or real me will have us both scrapped.” Well, wasn’t that just… gross enough to be exactly what it sounded like, Buffy concluded. Giles was furiously cleaning his glasses, so obviously she wasn’t misinterpreting. “You may go back inside,” the watcher said. “I still think she’s a spy-bot,” Buffy insisted. Spike stepped onto the porch before Giles could reply. He was dressed differently, like he was going out for a nice dinner. “Red’s got a notion,” he reported to Giles before abruptly pushing the baby into her arms. “I’ll be back as soon as this sodding thing is over with. Bot’ll take patrol.” Buffy tried to find some comfortable way to position the warm, sleeping girl in her arms. “Where are you going?” “Show at the gallery. Can’t be missed lest the world come to an end,” he practically growled at her before stomping off toward Mom’s old car. Giles grace her with an amused smile. “Anya adores Celia. I’m certain she would be happy to assist you.” Buffy let out a little whimper, wondering which prospect was worse: the possibility of having to hear the words orgasm and Giles in the same sentence or trying to figure out infant care on her own. She laid the baby against her shoulder. It was nice feeling the little girl’s breath on her skin. It was probably the closest she’d get to holding a kid of her own, she mused. She noticed Giles smiling at her in that fond way of his and felt a sudden impulse to cuddle the girl tighter. It was getting hard to remember why she wanted so badly to get home. It wasn’t so bad, the life this other Buffy was leading. She was happy and healthy and had a family and a house, like an actual grown-up. Still, even looking at the baby’s peaceful little face, she couldn't really imagine being a mother. She could hardly manage the take care of a mostly grown girl, who could at least feed herself and dress herself and clean herself and make her needs known in comprehensible English. Even if Buffy would sometimes rather she didn't. But it was kinda neat. When this other her died, a piece of her would go on. She couldn’t think to much about what might happen when she died again. --------------- She was starving, Buffy reasoned, and no way was she going to eat Spike’s pizza, which was pretty much the only thing in the refrigerator. Willow was still tapping away at her laptop and Dawn was ensconced in her room, listening to something incredibly grating on her boom box. Sunnydale looked pretty much the same, which was somehow that much spookier. The Doublemeat was right where she’s expected it to be. No vampires hanging around, but one guy with his face hidden in a hoodie seemed to make a quick exit when she came in. She briefly wondered if she should follow him, but decided it was probably nothing. The greasy smell was sadly appealing. But when she got up to the counter, the woman behind the register gave her an evil look. “Nice of you to finally show up. Where the hell have you been? And where’s your hat?” “Hat?” The woman pointed to her own cow-bedecked noggin. “Are you high?” It was probably not in the other Buffy’s best interests, but Buffy turned on her heel and tried not to break into a run for the door. No wonder this other Buffy was skulking around with a vampire. A crappy job, a sulky sister, scary friends with out-of-control powers; at least Spike was probably making her feel good. The idea that sex with a soulless beast might be the highlight of her day was deeply depressing. Back at the house she bolted a lukewarm slice of pizza without tasting it before heading upstairs for a shower. She let her tears and milk run down the drain, then borrowed a pair of pajamas. Her senses hummed, warning her that there was a vampire on her back porch. It was just Spike though. Feeling a sense of déjà vu, she took a seat next to him on the top step. “You look just like her right now,” he informed her solemnly. “This surprises you?” she asked archly. He gave her a small, private smile and she was thrown again by all the ways he wasn’t like the vampire she had known. “I know her, can see all the things she’s thinking deep down inside. You don’t think that way, least ways not usually. Can tell from your face, except just now. It’s this place. Makes you miserable.” She wanted to argue, but she didn’t want to lie either. And she didn’t want to bicker with him about his insane level of presumption to know how she thought. “Well, it’s not like she can go anywhere else,” she pointed out. “Bollocks. Could take her all around Europe, the Caribbean, anywhere she likes. Show her this world she’s saved often enough. It’s the least she deserves.” Buffy sighed, because really, that did sound nice. “She’s the slayer, Spike. She has a duty. She belongs here, not globe-trotting with the undead.” “Sod duty. She doesn’t belong here either, stuck in this suburban nightmare.” “Her life is here, her family. She needs this, needs something normal.” He rolled his eyes at her, but she kept on. She’d warmed to her subject, and if there was one thing she knew about herself, any of her selves, it was this. “She needs a little normal in her life, Spike. And if you don’t get that, then you don’t know her half as well as you think you do.” ---------------- Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. I have most of the next chapter complete and hope to get it to my beta tomorrow. By the way, I realize some people might think Spike envisions Dawn as going along on this little tour of the world. However I think it’s clear that he let Dawn pretty much fall off his radar the second she led Buffy down those stairs. And Dawn herself will have something to say about that next time. But feel free to protest in a review ;)

Chapter #5 - Chapter Five

Author's Note: Thanks to all my readers and reviewers and my wonderful beta, Kar, whose comments and corrections are always so helpful. I’ve got a good chunk of the next part written. Feedback would be very much appreciated. Chapter Five: Having made her pronouncement, the other Buffy went flouncing off the porch and left Spike in peace. Or it would have been peace if she hadn't given him something rather unpleasant to think on. He lit another cigarette and shook his head. Girl was wrong, didn't know what she needed. "So, what am I doing while you're tramping all over the world with my sister? Or did you just totally forget I exist? Because that would pretty much be my guess." To the best of his knowledge there was nothing demonic about Dawn. Her stare at the moment though looked lethal. He took a drag to buy himself some time. Bit was too bright for her own good. "You'd come along, of course," he offered with far too much enthusiasm. She rolled her eyes, clearly not buying it. "Right. Way to cover, Spike." She huffed and sat on the step next to him. "Like I'd even want to. I mean, seeing the world is a yay, but with you two? And besides, I'm pretty much stuck here forever. Or at least until I graduate." She studied his face for a long tense moment. "I thought you were the one who was always saying her friends and family were the reason she'd lasted this long." "That was before." "Before what? Before you?" She snorted elaborately when he gave her a defiant look. "Oh my god, you really think the rest of us are useless, or worse, don't you? That's why you don't hang out with me anymore. Now that Buffy's back it's no longer gallant to watch over little sis. I'm just another burden on her now, right?" "Didn't say that," he muttered, not wanting to look her in the face. She'd hit a little too close to the mark. "No. But you thought it." "She doesn't want me hanging about you, as you're well aware." "I think you're wrong about that. I mean, like what you're doing now, hanging around like a guard dog on the porch or making me do my homework. She probably wouldn't mind you being around for that so much if you'd, like, comb your hair out and not be smoking when the new social worker inevitably catches you skulking around during one of her surprise inspections." "So I'm to be her dog, then?" She frowned at him. "You could try being her friend," she advised him, her voice taking on a lecturing tone that made her sound more than a little like her sister. He stabbed out his cigarette. "Wouldn't hurt for you to be a bit easier on her yourself, Niblet." "Whatever," she muttered, leaning back on her elbows. A comfortable silence settled over them. "I miss her." "Know you do." "Say one," she whispered, reviving an old ritual from the summer. "No Dickinson either." "Right then," he agreed. "Something cheerful." -------------- Anya prodded Buffy's arms into the right configuration with detached efficiency. "There you go. Lay her too flat and she'll get an ear infection." Buffy gave a grateful smile and slowly offered Celia the bottle, afraid she'd apply too much slayer strength and ram in into the back of her throat. The little girl latched on, her eyes glittering happily before they closed. Buffy touched her thumb to the baby's cheek, feeling her suck and swallow. "Don't worry. It passes." Buffy startled and looked up. "Huh?" "That urge you're feeling right now to hold one of your own," Anya explained, looking up from her knitting. "Oh." She carefully shrugged her shoulders. It was weird that this Anya could read her so well. "Yeah. I mean, motherhood? It feels seven hundred years too early." She smiled down at the baby, wondering how the other her could possibly feel so differently about it. "Was she... planned?" Anya sniffed and picked up her needles. "Not at all. Buffy, the resident Buffy I mean, didn't even know until Angel showed up after the funeral and asked her about it. And then he and William got into a big fight about her honor, which is how the rest of them found out who the father was." "They were keeping it a secret?" Anya hummed. "They were spending a lot of time together. Her friends didn't know they were sleeping together. I thought it was blindingly obvious, but no one ever listens to me." She frowned at her pile of yarn. "No one was especially surprised though. William had been obviously courting her for months." "And everyone was okay with it?" "Rupert didn't like it very much. I think he was worried that Spike might not adjust to humanity all that well. As much as he hates what he used to be, it did take him a while to get used to not having some of the benefits of a vampire's constitution." She held out her arms for the baby and quickly elicited a burp. "But you all reconciled before the wedding." It all sounded too good to be true. She took the baby back and cuddled the dozing child close. Eventually she'd be home again, but for the moment it was nice to have someone else's life. Or if she never did make it back, there were worse places to be stuck. -------------------- Spike kicked off his shoes and sank into the couch. Big parties at the gallery always took it out of him. Hours spent being sociable with utter cretins who knew nothing about art was a waking nightmare . The young artists themselves were some of the worst. The added terror of wondering what had become of his wife had not exactly helped steady his mood. He could hear the Bot singing one of her off-key little lullabies to Celia and decided he'd go up for a cuddle with his girl. Only it wasn't the bot. "I don't think those are the actual lyrics," he informed her. She shrugged, not looking at him. He watched her smooth out one of Celia's little curls. "It's been a long time since I sang a baby to sleep." Her eyes finally met his and she quickly looked away. He realized belatedly that he'd been giving her a fond smile. "Sorry. Must be a strange look for you to see on me." "Not really," she breathed as he held out his hand to guide her downstairs away from the sleeping baby. "Though that would certainly be easier. How was the show?" she asked before he could follow up on that. "Wearying. Not much for crowds," he explained. She shook her head. "You know, you're more like him than I thought you'd be." He forced himself not to scowl at her. It was a discussion he'd had to have far too many times since he'd woken up himself again. "Wrong way 'round, pet. He's like me." "Okay," she said, in a tone that just made him more furious. "Look, I do know something about this, you see. Was my skin and my brain it borrowed for a century; and I certainly know the difference between having its thoughts running through my brain and being free from them." "But, all those years, I mean, all the stuff that happened--" "Wasn't done by me! Why is that so bloody hard to understand? I wasn't there. Remembering it is bad enough, but being blamed for it--" "Okay!" She held up her hands. Spike rubbed his temples. He hadn't meant to go off on her like that, but she'd hit one very sore spot. "You still go by Spike," she pointed out very carefully. He smiled ruefully. "Lends me a certain dangerous air I otherwise lack." She looked down at her hands and then tilted her head up to consider him. "I don't think he thinks of it like that. To him it's like he's still you, you know. Like, he's still William, but with just a very dramatic lifestyle choice or something." "You seem to know him awfully well," he realized aloud. "We've been working together for a long time," she mumbled, dropping her eyes. But the guilty expression on her face forced another realization as well. "My god, you're bedding him!" "Don't wake up the baby!" she hissed, looking utterly mortified. Her warning came too late, but frankly he was glad for a way to end the conversation. He tucked Celia's head under his chin and laid her down on the bed with him. "Mum will be home soon," he cooed, praying it was true. --------------- The blonde stuck his head into the darkened room. The other two boys glared at him. "You're late," one accused. "Yeah, about that. Um, guys, we may have a problem. Buffy's gone. But also, she's kinda not." -------------- Stay tuned!

Chapter #6 - Chapter Six

Author’s Note: Thanks to my beta Kar and all my readers and reviewers. Closing in on the end of this. I do apologize for the slow posting and I really appreciate you all bearing with me. Life is quite busy these days. Chapter Six Buffy stretched her arms over her head and sighed. It was nice to sleep late, with no job to get to, no sister to get off to school, no stack of bills hanging over her head. There was nothing she had to do. Unfortunately, that meant she'd be left with plenty of time to think. Think about Dawn and wonder how she was doing and was she ever going to see her again. Would her job be there when she got back? How were they going to pay the power bill if it wasn't? Suddenly free time wasn't so appealing. This sort of situation was, she realized, was exactly the kind of thing that sent her running to the crypt for a couple of hours of cold comfort. And that thought led to remembering the reaction of her host the night before and she felt a fresh rush of shame. Downstairs the bot was staring forlornly at the stove. When she saw Buffy she gave a cheerful smile. "Would you like some waffles?" Buffy carefully agreed. "Are you okay?" she asked, feeling strange about it. The robot stirred the batter and pouted. "I don't think I'm very good at being Buffy." Buffy chuckled and gave the robot a little smile. "I know how you feel." She felt a strange impulse to, like, pat the robot on the back or something, but then Willow came swooping in with a latte in each hand. "Thought you might like something. Unfortunately, it's all I've got to offer right now." Buffy took the paper cup with a sigh. "I'm sure you guys will figure it out," she reassured the redhead. She took a sip of the coffee. At first it brought the familiar rush of warmth and flavor, but then there was something else, a strange aftertaste. She raised wide eyes to Willow who gave a sad little smile and grasped her wrists. "Sorry about this," she said as a jolt went through Buffy's body. "What the hell was that?" she gasped when she could breathe again. Willow looked guilty and the robot looked like she was conflicted as to whether she should hit Willow with the waffle iron. "I had to make sure you weren't a demon. I mean, I already told him you weren't, but he wanted a more... thorough test. Considering what you told him. You passed, by the way." Willow wriggled nervously in her chair. "And you know, dating a werewolf, so I'm pretty liberal about the whole consorting with demons thing. But, really, Buffy." The robot set a glass of cool water in front of her, looking deeply confused. "Other real me, would you like me to restrain Willow? I think she hurt you." "Not just now," Buffy managed, gratefully gulping down the water. Her nerves were still buzzing and she felt a hot flush in her cheeks. She blinked at Willow. "What the hell is the matter with him?" she gritted out. "Buffy," Willow chided. "Imagine if Angel found out you'd had sex with Angelus or something. Are you really that surprised that he's not all 'woohoo'?" "Spike is not Angelus!" Willow shook her head. "Really? I mean, I'll grant you that Spike was less with the world endage and he didn't have quite the ... flair Angel had. But still, with the killing and violating and general mayhem, I'm not really seeing that much difference." "You don't know him," she said firmly, realizing it was probably true about both Willows. Willow took a slow, deliberate sip of coffee. "Okay." Buffy pushed away her doctored drink. Thoughts piled on each other as she tried to think of some way to explain it to Willow. She had lists, lists and charts in her head, all the reasons and excuses and the scribbled through attempts at doing the moral math that made Spike more or less okay. She opened her mouth to say something, anything to explain herself and then promptly shut it again. "You know something; I don't have to justify this to you or to him either. It's none of your business," she said, realizing as she spoke the words were true. "You're my friend, you're concerned, I get that. But if you really want to help me, just try to find some way to get me home, okay." She grabbed a jacket off the coat rack and headed out with a mission. -------------------- Spike sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He was utterly exhausted from the events of the previous evening. Between the show, assorted revelations, and his fussy daughter he was out of energy. He was sipping his latte and waiting for Willow to call when a nervous looking patron skittered in. "May I help you?" She gave a bashful little smile. "I'm sure you don't remember me from last night," she apologized. "One of my friends told me all about Andrelico, but...." "But you're concerned he might be a bit of a hack?" he replied in a low, conspiratorial voice. She nodded. "Let me show you something you might like better." By the time he'd finished talking her into a small piece by someone with actual talent, he realized he was being watched. The bemused expression on the woman’s face was so like his wife that he found his heart leaping before he noticed her hair and his hopes were dashed. "So, did he learn that from you or did you learn that from him?" the bizarre aberration on his wife asked. His lip curled. So, they were back to this. "I can't imagine what you mean?" "That whole routine, Spike. That's the one that convinces the girl to sneak out the back door with you, despite her better instincts." "Worked on you once, I suppose," he snapped before he realized what he'd said. She smirked at him. "Pretty much." She sighed. "I actually came over here to kick your ass, but I think I'm gonna not." "Very kind of you." "Under the circumstances, it really is. You know, whatever you think of him, there's no way he's getting my Willow to zap your wife." He wanted to say something glib, but under the circumstances it was hard to think of a comeback considering his own behavior. "Perhaps that was a bit out of line." She smiled, but then her face twisted in worry. He turned to look behind himself and saw the robot racing toward him with a whimpering baby in her arms. "She's hungry," the Bot explained, gently handing Celia over. "There's no more milk, and I didn't know what to do." Spike was just opening his mouth to reply when he heard a great clatter of footsteps. He looked up to see who was there, but all he saw was a great flash of light. ------------------- Buffy stared forlornly at the sad clumps of breakfast cereal in her bowl. Around her the household went through it's morning routine, neither Dawn nor Willow paying her much attention. If she were home she'd be feeding her daughter, talking about the gallery with her husband, getting ready to go to her new moms' support group at Sunnydale General. She hoped the gallery showing at gone okay. She knew how tough those nights were on her husband. Usually she knew just how to relax him, she mused to herself with a little smile. And he was happy to return the favor. She stirred her coffee and thought about their second time together, when they'd taken their time instead of indulging in a rushed and heated reunion. His self-satisfied face as he rested his head against her thigh. He'd told her he had never done that before, and she'd laughed about his natural talent. But he remembered, she realized, and it was strange to think that he both was and wasn't new at bedroom acrobatics. I see you know who to thank. When the others filed out for the day, she made her way slowly to the crypt. He was asleep on his ratty old couch, a faded paperback in his hand dragging the floor where his hand had fallen. She knew there would be little notes cribbed in the margins in his old-fashioned hand. It was oddly tempting to lean over, take his book from his hand, and place a kiss on his forehead. Instead she wandered around his sad little kitchen area and poked at the piles of stuff stacked all over the place. She knew he was playing opossum at this point and wondered when he would admit he was awake. Before he got a chance, the crypt door swung wide open and he was scrambling to find a place out of the intruding sunlight. Then there was an even brighter light, an all too familiar burst, and she grabbed at the wall to fight the vertigo. When she opened her eyes, she saw her husband stumbling toward her with their daughter in his arms. She yelped something inarticulate and threw her arms around them, trying not to weep with relief. One of her husband's arms clutched tightly around her shoulders and Celia was warm and wriggly between them. Buffy leaned in to kiss her husband gently and lay her head against his shoulder. For the moment she didn't even care that the three of them were standing in the vampire's crypt. She was just selfishly glad they were all together again. ---------- Feedback is always appreciated.

Chapter #7 - Chapter Seven

Author's Note: Thanks to my beta Kar and all my readers and reviewers. Closing in on the end of this. I do apologize for the slow posting and I really appreciate you all bearing with me and continuing to read and review. Chapter Seven His skin still stung from the light that streamed in from the gallery windows. His cheek burned too, from where she'd gently touched him and asked if he was alright. Spike glanced at Buffy, sitting stiffly next to him around the Magic Box table. Her eyes darted over him and then away. It was more than he'd expected, really. His girl wasn't the type to throw herself into his arms, even before she'd cut him off. "Why does everyone I date turn out to be evil?" Xander lamented, and Spike bit his lip to keep from commenting. Buffy had made it clear that she didn't want to hear any comments about this Xander's sex life. He hoped she appreciated his admirable restraint, under the circumstances. "Let's concentrate on how we locate Andrew and his coconspirators, shall we?" Giles suggested dryly. "Perhaps Spike could be of some use." "How's that?" he asked cautiously, searching old Rupert's face for some sign of sarcasm, but the watcher seemed sincere. It was a bit disconcerting, actually, how at ease they all seemed with his presence. Just for kicks he dropped his arm across the back of the slayer's chair to no discernable reaction from the congregation. "You might assist Oz in tracking them," Giles proposed. "I am not a bloody blood hound!" Buffy kicked him under the table. "Would you please cooperate?" she huffed. "I've been gone for days now. I'm probably going to have to find a new crappy job, and I miss Dawn, and I want to go home." "Maybe I could do a locator spell?" Willow suggested, not quite looking at Buffy. "I think you've done enough, thanks," Buffy replied tartly. "What about the robot?" Anya asked. "She should have some sort of homing signal or something, right? We could sic her on Warren." "I am not permitted to hurt Warren. Unless he requests it." "No, of course you're not," Buffy sighed. "And also, if that means what I think it means, I am double killing him." "Guys," Xander broke in. "You're making this way more complicated than it needs to be. Warren lives on Elm, in his mom's basement. That's where they hang out." "Also," Willow added. "Maybe we shouldn't be talking about an an-play in front of the obot-ray?" Anya nodded and quietly turned the robot off and dropped its limp form into one of the chairs to smile vapidly at them. It was more than a little disconcerting. "So we just corner these wankers and drag 'em back in chains?" "I'm really not seeing why not," Buffy agreed. ----------- Celia slept heavily on the mattress between them and Buffy felt pleasantly sleepy herself. The hot ache in her breasts was gone, and with her daughter's cheek against one damp nipple and her husband's leg pressed against hers it was hard to remember that they were actually potentially in some kind of extreme danger. "Was this all here before? I don't remember." She closed her eyes, thankful that he didn't remember. It had taken her a day or two to find him after Willow did the soul spell. She'd found him by the screaming. Generally, there weren't a lot of screams coming from inside crypts, and she'd gone in expecting to find something to slay. Instead she'd found Spike, bloody and bruised with deep gashes on his chest where he'd clawed himself raw, red hands clamped over his ears. Immediately she'd felt responsible and tried to confront him. But it wasn't until she'd come back with a Styrofoam mug of cow's blood and her sternest slayer manner that he'd responded with anything other than more screaming. "He's spruced it up," was all she said. "For her, I guess." "Of himself. Always did like a comfy bed." Buffy licked her lips, thinking of their own bed back home and how it wasn't all that dissimilar to the one they were lounging on. "Did he get that from you, or did you get that from him?" she asked quietly. He sighed and dropped back onto the pillows, facing the ceiling. "So I'm going to have to go through this bit with you as well as her?" She carefully shifted Celia up on a pillow and sat up to look down on him. "She thought you were like him?" "Isn't that what you just said?" he pouted back at her. She sighed, regretting that she was sometimes so bad with words, especially the important ones. "No, you're not like him, not really. But you're not William reawakened from a century-long sleep either." "No," he agreed quietly. "No, I'm not." He pinned her with his eyes. "What did you think of him?" She smiled at him. "He seems so sad." "So does she." He pressed his palm against hers. "Not looking to trade then?" Buffy laughed and snuggled back down beside him, gathering her daughter up again. She knew she should be gathering up the gang, letting them in on the new situation. Also they needed to get diapers. And she would do all that, just as soon as she’d had enough of basking in having her family back. Spike kissed her temple and whispered nice things in her ear. When his arm came around her, she traced the flesh just under his sleeve, the little cuff where his skin went from lightly sun-kissed to pale. She could feel his heart beating against her back. Her daughter's heart thudded against her chest. She wouldn’t trade all that for anything. ---------------- They left the slightly battered boys in her watcher's capable hands and then Buffy took Spike back to the other couple's house to wait because she didn't really know what else to do. Also, if she was forced to spend another ten minutes with Willow, she might say or do something unwise. Her arms still hurt from whatever her double's friend had done to prove she wasn't a demon. "Don't see why you're letting old Rupert have all the fun is all," Spike complained, for like the fiftieth time. "Spike. You are a professional slayer hunter--" "Retired," he broke in. "Whatever. You should know that watchers are taught more than just how to catalog books, okay. Giles knows what he's doing in an interrogation." He huffed and wandered off while she helped herself to a soda and tried to think of something to do to pass the time, alone in a house, with Spike, in a way that did not involve any sort of bodily contact. Because she was way too happy to have him around. She closed her eyes and let her head drop against the arm of the couch. She had expected him to explore the place or go sniff the laundry or something, but she could feel him hanging there. When she opened her eyes he was sitting in the chair across from her, staring. "What?" "Giant picture of them all on the mantle above your head," he pointed out quietly. She craned her head, and there the three of them were, glowing and fair in the sunlight. "Looks good on you, motherhood." She snorted. "Yeah, I'm doing a bang up job with Dawn. And it's doing wonders for my complexion. Or maybe that's from all the time I spend hiding in the dark." He made a noise and she rolled her eyes. "I wasn't talking about you, you egomaniac. It's my job description." "Wasn't my idea to keep it a secret," he muttered. Buffy curled her hands into fists and took a few deep breaths. "You don't even like my friends. Actually, you hate my friends! Why do you care if they know?" "I care because you care." "Yeah, but I'm not supposed to care, right? I'm supposed to stay in the dark with you, isn't that what you said?" He stood, towering over her. "Well, sometimes I'm bloody stupid, aren't I?" he thundered before stalking off toward the back of the house. She heard a door slam, and then a moment later she heard the door again. Like now, she mused with a wry smile, almost feeling bad for him that his dramatic exit had been ruined by the daylight. Without a word she wrapped ice in a towel and pressed it against the singes on his cheek, refusing to meet his eye. Eventually she did look up and smirked at him. He cradled her hand in his and pushed until he could just brush his lips against her wrist. "Don't read too much into this, okay," she warned him. "But I did kinda miss you, you big dope." ------------------- My goal is the have the final chapter up no later than a week from today.

Chapter #8 - Chapter Eight

Thanks so much to everyone who has read and reviewed, especially since my postings have been sporadic at best. A big thanks to Kar and Zanthinegirl for beta work and advise. And now, the conclusion… Spike stared at the teen, still trying to grasp that she was his wife's sister. Dawn was playing happily with Celia, but the others were looking at her as though she were some sort of particularly vicious little demon. That is, when they weren't busy staring at him with unconcealed curiosity. "You're sure you don't remember anything useful?" Anya asked, looking considerably less fascinated with him than the others. "I told you, my back was to the door," he sighed. "The light was too bright," his wife explained. Xander eyed their clasped hands on the tabletop with an expression Spike couldn't quite read. "What?" he demanded tartly. The boy startled slightly. "Did you get them engraved? The rings?" This was not the comment he'd expected. "Could we maybe focus on getting my sister back?" Dawn broke in. She shoved his daughter back at him, the better to cross her arms over her chest and glare at them all. "I'm sorry, Dawnie. We know Buffy, our Buffy, is still somewhere, but I'm not sure how we get her back." "I don't see how this can be that hard for you," the teen crabbed. "Just yank her out of there. You're good at that." Spike didn't quite understand the ripple of bad feeling this set off through the room. "That only solves half the problem," he pointed out. Dawn shrugged and then quickly jumped out of the way of a roaring, churning mass of light that erupted into the middle of the room. --------- Spike watched her move as he followed Buffy through the sewers back to the Magic Box, hopefully that this was the last hour he'd be spending in this strange little world. The thought of it, the two of them in a neat little house with a neat little family was too much. Of course it wasn't really him in those pictures, not his scent in the bedclothes. Nor was he jealous, certainly not. Nothing could be worth giving up all he'd become to go back to being William again, certainly nothing as mundane as fatherhood and the blessed bonds of matrimony. Buffy gave him a weak little smile before she opened to door to find Willow waiting for them with what looked like a super soaker in her arms. "I'm pretty sure I know how to get you home," she announced. "Whoa!" Buffy protested. "Don't you think you need more research before you just go blasting us?" "I just want my best friend back," Willow insisted. "What's wrong with that?" And there was the girl he recognized, no matter what else might be different in this place. "Willow! What the devil are you doing?" he heard before everything went bright and silent. When he could see again, the Scoobies and their doubles were gathered around the research table at the shop. His eyes locked on the man with his face and tiny little person clasped in his arms. He had a great sudden urge to touch the man's chest or embrace him or ask him how it felt to be a father or even to take the child into his own grasp. Thankfully, before he could do anything so foolish, his reflection threw an arm around his wife and pushed his family past them, into the gateway that had just expelled himself and the slayer seconds before it imploded. Dawn briefly acknowledged him, but the rest were pressed around Buffy, pummeling her with hugs and questions. Their eyes met briefly over the boy's shoulder and then he slipped out to the alley to escape the smell of their mingled bodies and a child made from their flesh. He needed a drink badly. ------------------- Buffy stared at the little piece of paper in her hand, running her thumb over the writing and trying to decide what, if anything, to do. She shouldn’t go, she lectured herself. Staying away from Spike was supposed to the first step in some sort of major life change, right? Only her crappy job had gotten even crappier, her financial aid plea to UCS had been denied, and instead of spending all the time she wasn’t entangled with Spike doing things with Dawn she was reminded that she and her sister lived on almost opposite schedules. The front door banged loudly, announcing the end of the school day. Buffy thought about shoving the note in her pocket, then decided that Dawn probably knew all about it anyway. At least someone was giving Dawn the attention she needed. So at least something good had come of her new sucky, celibate life. Assuming you could put teenagers hanging out in crypts after school in the positive column. “You okay?” Dawn asked. Buffy sighed, hating that this was always the first thing out of her sister’s mouth when they saw each other. Dawn surprised her a bit by sitting next to her on the couch and giving her a quick hug. Buffy quickly hugged her back. “What was that about?” she couldn’t help asking. Her sister shrugged. “It’s just really nice to have you back from dimension Y.” “It’s nice to be back.” “Was it really weird there? She seemed so different.” She shook her head, wishing she had a decent answer. “She has a really different life, that’s for sure.” “Better?” Buffy took a deep breath. Objectively, she’d have to say that, hell yeah, the other her had a much nicer life. But she didn’t want that life. She wanted her life, only with less suck. She just wished she knew how to make that happen. As she looked at her sister, trying to think of some way to answer, she realized something else. “Are those new clothes?” she demanded. “Where did those come from?” “It’s not what you think!” Dawn shouted. “Spike gave me the money.” “Oh, that’s much better,” she growled, feeling once again like things had spun horribly out of her control. Dawn rolled her eyes. “Look, I get that you don’t want to take money from him, because that would be, well, weird and kinda gross. But I’m not, you know, we’re just friends, obviously. And Willow ran off Aunt Darlene before she could meet the robot and the Council has obviously forgotten about you and Dad doesn’t give a damn and Willow doesn’t even pony up for groceries, and it’s not like I want to be a charity case for my friend but I’m really tired of trying to convince people like that bitch Kristy that my old jeans are capris and he’s not stealing either, by the way, which you’d know if you weren’t totally avoiding him!” Buffy felt her eyebrows heading for her hairline. “Breathe in, kiddo,” she advised, trying to process everything her sister had just said. "He took care of me a lot when you were gone," Dawn added in a more subdued tone. "I know he did." "Did you like him better?" "Way off topic," Buffy dodged. Dawn made a face. "No, I didn't like him better," she admitted. "Probably I should have, but I didn't." She stared at the note she'd crushed. "I should probably talk to him about this whole giving you money thing," she mused. "Right. Work out some ground rules." "He wants me to meet him for a drink," Buffy announced. Her sister's expression confirmed that Dawn already knew what was in the note. "After patrol," she added. "To discuss my upkeep?" Buffy smirked. "He didn't say." "Are you gonna?" Buffy crumpled the note into her pocket. "Maybe." "What should I tell Willow?" She smiled at her sister. "Tell her I'm meeting Spike for a drink. You know you're dying to." --------------- Buffy wished she'd googled the place or something, because it wasn't what she had expected. It wasn't like the Bronze or any of the places near campus. It was dimly lit and decorated in subdued colors. Adults sat in booths talking in low voices while quiet music played. And behind the bar was Spike. She hadn't seen him once in the week since they'd gotten back from Never Never Land, and she hated how much she missed him. She wasn't supposed to miss him. He quirked an eyebrow at her and tilted his head toward an empty booth. Feeling way self-conscious, she scooted in and chewed her lip until he slid in across from her with a drink in each hand. "Look like you could use it," he explained as he sat. "So they're both for me?" she joked lamely, but it broke the awkwardness and they were able to talk. Buffy could feel the hopefully nervousness radiating off him, and she wondered if it wouldn't be better to just bluntly tell him nothing was going to change. Except that he had changed, again, or maybe this was part of some change that had happened a long time ago. "I'm really not sure if I should let you do this," she admitted quietly. "Take care of Dawn like this, I mean." He swirled his empty glass. "Do better when I've someone to look after," he replied quietly, not quite looking at her. "Okay then," she sighed. He gave her one of his rare sincere smiles and she knew she better leave before things got any more interesting. "I should let you go. I wouldn't want to get you in trouble." "I can take a break now and then. This late we're not so busy." She nodded. "Maybe I could stop by after patrol sometimes," she suggested. "If I'm in the neighborhood or whatever." "You could," he agreed. "I will," she said, with a little too much conviction and the expression on his face was painful. She shouldn't be toying with him like this, she told herself. Only she wasn't so sure she was toying. "And if you're not working some night and get bored, you could, you know, join me on patrol. If you feel like it." "I'll keep that in mind, slayer." "Thanks for the drink," she said as he offered her a hand up out of the booth. His skin felt better against her than it should, making her all too aware of how much she knew about how his skin felt against far less innocent places. "I'll see you soon." "I'd like that." She smiled at him. "So would I." --------------------------- This ended on a more ambiguous note than I had originally planned, but that seems like a truer place to leave things than having them jump into each other’s arms in wild abandon. Thank you to everyone who stuck with me.