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?"


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"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.


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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.