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.

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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.

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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.