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.”