On the Other Side

Rating- Probably NC17 later on, I haven’t decided

Summary- The Buffy we saw in The Girl in Question wasn’t the Buffy we know. She’s a visitor from another dimension. Spike must play hero once again to rescue his lady love and maybe even help her counterpart as well as his.

Disclaimer- I once thought I owned Buffy but I’ve had countless sessions with my doctor to help me realize Joss Whedon has copyrights


Spike awoke to the blinding light of morning. It took a moment for his eyes to focus as well as his mind. He sat up in a panic, his eyes wide, searching for some means of cover. There was none. Then it sunk in that he felt only the tingle of warmth and not burning. He lifted his hand to his face in wonder. He burst out into chuckles. It was a good thing he was all alone because he most likely looked like a nancy boy prancing around in the alley. His boot hit something hard and he stopped. He glanced down to discover a decapitated demon body.

That was when his surroundings fully registered. The pavement was littered with mutilated corpses, limbs separated. The sight and smell was enough to even make a vampire cringe. It was a good thing he was able to halt his breath.

Why was it that his heart and lungs remained dormant when he could walk around in the sun? It was a mystery that only the Powers could answer. A reward possibly? He grinned. Hah, Peaches, screw your magic glass, the Powers like me best. His lips fell after a moment. He began to walk, carefully watching his step.

“Angel!?” Spike hollered. “Blue!? Charlie!?”

He was met only by the rustle of the wind.

He hunted through the heap of battle remains. He found Gunn underneath two demons, a sword still grasped in his clutch. His eyes stared sightlessly. Spike knelt down and sighed. He closed his fallen companion’s eyes, wishing him a welcoming journey to the beyond.

Spike hoisted the dead man into his arms. He carried him to the funeral home and laid him upon its steps. He had nowhere else to take him, having no knowledge of Gunn having any relatives.

His next stop was The Hyperion Hotel. He reasoned that Angel was likely to seek shelter before sunrise. He found a dark and empty dwelling. He abandoned the search and returned home.

He closed the door behind him and felt the impact of war. He leaned against the doorjamb for a moment, weary. He sensed the presence then. At first he figured it was a beasty and prepared himself for a fight but then relaxed when he caught the aura of humanity.

“Who’s there? Show yourself.”

The door to the bathroom creaked open. A brown-haired teenager hesitatingly poked her head out.

“Bit?” Spike’s eyes enlarged.

Dawn stepped out. She stopped near the couch. “Spike?”

He nodded. “The one and only. What are you -?”

He was cut off by the slam of her body. His head hit the wall behind him and he made an ‘oof’. She released her hold a little and looked at him with concern.

“Are you okay? You look like crap,” she stated.

He snorted. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a train.”

“More like two.” She parted from him. “Can you walk?”

“If I have to,” he replied. He narrowed his eyes. “Does Buffy know you’re here?”

She frowned. “That’s why I’m here.”

A pang shot through his heart. “What’s happened?”

Dawn looked around in a paranoid manner. “Does Angel have this place bugged?”

“I doubt he’s interested in the sounds of Final Fantasy, luv. I think we’re clear.”

She nodded. “Andrew lied when you visited. We weren’t sure we could trust the head of an evil law firm. He has no business interfering with our life.”

“Is she in trouble? What has the Immortal done to her?” Spike demanded. He grabbed hold of Dawn’s shoulders. It was meant to be from emotion and not for support but ended up that way. She guided him over to the couch. He collapsed upon its cushions.

Dawn crossed her arms. He was reminded how Buffy-like she was becoming.

“Nothing, that’s not really the problem. I wish it was that simple.”

Spike sat up as straight as he could manage. What could be worse than the Immortal?

Dawn let her arms fall to her side. She seemed to soften. “Spike. . .” She spoke gently. “What you saw in Rome, it isn’t what you think at all.”

Spike dug his nails into the arm of the couch. “Right. Well it looked to me like Buffy’s shifted into the gray area. I mean, The Immortal? He’s most likely getting back at Angel and me once again. He’ll probably dump her after he’s had his fun.”

“I know. Spike-“

“He’s evil. There’s no proof but if you-“

“Spike!”

“And you think she’d have enough respect for herself. He likes to have harems, nibblet. Buffy was never into that thing. At least-“

“Spike!” She stomped her foot.

Spike shut up.

“Thank you. Geez. Okay, now like I said, what you thought you saw wasn’t real. Well it was, but . . .” She sighed. “Okay, how do I explain this? The Buffy you saw wasn’t Buffy.”

“Come again?”

“She ‘is’ a Buffy, but not ‘our’ Buffy,” Dawn went on.

“Shape shifter?” Spike asked.

“No. You know about parallel dimensions, right?”

Spike scooted to the edge of the couch. “You’re telling me there are two Buffies? And one is into orgasms?”

“Ewww, Spike, gross much! But, yeah, I guess.”

“So, our Buffy needs my help to send her counterpart back where she belongs? Why didn’t she come herself?”

Dawn was silent a moment. She looked down at her feet. “She would have if she could. The main problem isn’t sending the imposter back, it’s getting the Buffy-Buffy back home.”

Spike stood up too fast. Pain shot up through his spinal column. He gritted his teeth. “Where is she!?”

Dawn took in a deep breath. She met his alarmed eyes. “That’s the thing . . . we’re not entirely sure.”

________________________________________________________

I’m back into the Buffy fanfic world again! A break was needed because of RL issues, but I think things have calmed down. I’ll get the next chapter up soon (hint, feedback puts me into the typing mood). Thanks for reading.

On the Other Side

Rating- Probably NC17 later on, I haven’t decided

Summary- The Buffy we saw in The Girl in Question wasn’t the Buffy we know. She’s a visitor from another dimension. Spike must play hero once again to rescue his lady love and maybe even help her counterpart as well as his.

Disclaimer- I once thought I owned Buffy but I’ve had countless sessions with my doctor to help me realize Joss Whedon has copyrights


Chapter Two

He needed details but wasn’t going to waste another minute. He told Dawn to wait until they were on the first plane to Rome. She pointed to the door and said, “Frying sun and vampires don’t mix. We’ll have to wait until nightfall.”

“Not this vamp. The Powers decided to show their gratitude for lending a hand in saving the world again. They granted me with sunlight immunity.”

“Mega cool!” Dawn squealed. She scrutinized him. “And it is to the beach for you. You have the skin tone of Frosty the Snowman.”

He wagged an eyebrow. “And I thought I was irresistible now. Think, Spike with a tan. Buffy won’t . . .”

The playfulness soon ended when the reminder of pressing matters returned. He quickly gathered the few clothes he possessed into a plastic shopping bag for travel. Dawn scrunched up her nose at that. What did she expect? Hello, vampire. They don’t do suitcases.

Dawn whipped out two passports at the airport. She winked over at him.

“And how’d you get those?” Spike asked.

“The Council has its ways,” she said cryptically.
“The watcher’s helping you gather yours truly?” He had trouble believing that.

She rolled her eyes. “It was Willow actually, but Giles suggested it. Buffy and he made up after he admitted you did a good thing down in the hellmouth. He also apologized for what he did.”

Spike shook his head. Course he’d confess to that ‘after’ I’m supposedly dust in the wind and out of her life for good.

“He’s still a poop head sometimes,” Dawn added.

Spike had really missed his nibblet.

When Dawn informed him that the tickets were on Council budget he insisted on first class. She smirked back at him and agreed.

She insisted on him taking the window seat, which he didn’t argue with. He watched out the window as they lifted off the runway and into the air over Los Angeles International airport. It would take eight hours until they landed at Leonardo Da Vinci Airport. He was already becoming anxious. He shifted in his seat and tapped his fingers on the side of the window.

“I’m sorry,” burst out Dawn.

He turned his head and lifted an eyebrow in question.

“For-For, you know, the fire while you’re sleeping thing. And after. I should have let you know I forgave you.”

Was she going to cry? Her lips wobbled and she blinked her eyes more than she had to. He reached over and put his arm around her shoulders.

“It’s okay, bit. Alls in the past,” he said.

She nodded. “Okay, now your turn.”

He furrowed his brow. “My turn?”

She jutted her foot to the side to kick his ankle. “For not telling us you were back. I’ll forgive you on account that I never told you I forgave you, but I’m still annoyed. I had to hear it from Andrew after you came by with Angel. I don’t know how you are going to get Buffy to understand.”

Spike sighed. “I thought it was for the best. It would only have complicated her life. She was given the chance to have peace without the undead popping back up.”

“That’s a stupid excuse,” Dawn said. “I think you were scared.”

Spike cleared his throat. He fidgeted with the video on demand equipment. Bloody good it did them to fly first class. He doubted either of them was in any mood to enjoy the entertainment or gourmet meals. He wouldn’t turn down the alcoholic beverages, though.

“Tell me how Buffy switched places with her double. Is there a beasty that needs killing?” Spike questioned.

“No. It was Buffy’s idea.”

“Come again?”

“Buffy really needed you after you were gone,” Dawn said. “She couldn’t take it anymore and decided to do something about it. She got Willow to do a spell to send her somewhere where she could bring you home. Not ‘you’ of course, but another you.”

Spike laughed. Dawn stared at him with incredulity.

“What is so funny!?” she insisted.

He quickly sobered. “I just have more reason to believe the Buffy that’s been shagging the Immortal is the real Buffy than what you just told me. Why would she ever go to the trouble to go fetch me from another dimension? What does she need me for?”

“Um, maybe because she loves you.”

‘I’m not ready for you not to be here’. The quote echoed in his mind. Maybe . . . No, he couldn’t accept it. If he was wrong he’d shatter into a million pieces. That’s secretly why he stayed away. Poor pathetic William couldn’t handle another rejection.

“Did she tell you that?” Spike whispered.

“No, not in words. But- You are soulmates.”

“Read too many romance novels lately?”

“As if. I only read magazines and you know it. You are so exasperating! You and Buffy have to be destined. Think about it. You are an anomaly of a vampire.”

“Hey!”

“Well, it’s true! What other vampire loves a slayer without a soul and then goes to get one for her? What other vampire resurrects from the dead?” She gestured to the plane window. “What other vampire can walk in the sun?”

“You have yet to convince me anything besides how remarkable ‘I’ am, nibblet.”

She moved to face him. “Buffy was so proud of what you did. She missed you of course but she always smiled when she remembered you. She knew you sacrificed yourself so we could all move on, and she tried. But- I wasn’t going to tell you this on the plane. I was going to wait but- Do you want to know what the breaking point was? When Buffy knew she had to find you again and she’d never be able to replace you?”

He couldn’t respond. He couldn’t move. He could only wait for her to continue.

“You ‘are’ remarkable, Spike. So remarkable. No one could ever be the one for Buffy but you. No one could – No one could be the daddy for her baby but you.”

Spike’s head whipped toward Dawn. He saw the tears that rolled down her cheeks and he knew he hadn’t misheard.

‘I love you.’

‘No you don’t, but thanks for saying it.’

What had he done?

It was all his fault. He should have believed her. He should have tracked her down after turning solid again.

He had to make it right. For him. For Buffy. . . for their baby.

__________________________________________________

Okay, I know there are about a billion baby fics out there and we really don’t need another one, but I can’t help it. I just think Buffy and Spike would make the cutest mommy and daddy.

On the Other Side

Rating- Probably NC17 later on, I haven’t decided

Summary- The Buffy we saw in The Girl in Question wasn’t the Buffy we know. She’s a visitor from another dimension. Spike must play hero once again to rescue his lady love and maybe even help her counterpart as well as his.

Disclaimer- I once thought I owned Buffy but I’ve had countless sessions with my doctor to help me realize Joss Whedon has copyrights


Chapter Three

Three Months Ago

There were signs but Buffy didn’t see them. The lack of her menstrual cycle was reasoned to be a response to stress. Her breasts became sore and tingled, but she ignored it. She never really noticed that she had to use the bathroom more frequently, but Dawn sure did. Her sister complained that it was never free anymore. She went to sleep sooner than usual and slept in later. Then the sickness started.

Slayers never got sick. Okay, not true. She remembered back when she was still in high school and passed out on patrol. Slayers did get sick but not unless it was so serious that their bodies couldn’t fight it all off. She did not want another hospital visit.

She decided to wait a bit. It’ll eventually pass, she thought. But it didn’t. The stomach nausea only grew worse, and it was becoming harder and harder to hide it from Dawn. Dawn would panic.

Eventually Buffy couldn’t push it aside anymore. Something was wrong with her and it wasn’t going away. She picked up the phone book and skimmed through in search of the hospital number. She didn’t have an assigned doctor because they had just moved to Rome a month before. She took the phone off the cradle and punched in half the number before slamming it back down. She leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes. She couldn’t do it. What if what she had was mystical? She grabbed the phone again and pushed in another number.

“May I please speak to Willow Rosenberg?” Buffy’s voice came out shaky.

It took about two minutes before Willow came over the line. “Hey, this is Willow Rosenberg.”

“Willow.” Buffy let out a breath. She could have cried from the sound of her best friend. “How long would it take you to get here?”

“The conventional or nonconventional way?”

“Right now I don’t care if you fly on a broomstick to my window. Willow, I need you.”

“How serious is it?”

Buffy gripped the phone tighter. Her stomach was twisting in knots again. “I’m not sure. But come as soon as you can.”

“How about now?”

Buffy spun around in shock, dropping the cordless phone. Willow stood right behind her.

“Whoa, don’t do that! A little warning would be nice,” Buffy exclaimed.

Willow looked sheepish. “Sorry. Isn’t it cool, though. The coven taught me how to poof. Kinda like Barbra Eden, but without the pink smoke. I can’t send other people with me yet.”

Buffy smiled and ran to hug the witch. The tears that she’d been holding in crept out.

“Buffy?” Willow questioned. She held the slayer back. “What is the matter?”

“Something is wrong with me,” Buffy said. She pulled back and wiped the wetness from her cheeks. “I’m sick.”

A frown appeared on Willow’s lips.

“Could you, I don’t know, do a body scan or something? Find out if it is magic in origin. I can’t go to the doctor until I know it is normal.”

“I-I think I can do that,” Willow said. She took Buffy’s hand and led her to the white loveseat. “Lay down.”

Buffy settled down upon the cushions. She tried to relax but her body wouldn’t stop shaking.

“I’m going to have to touch you,” Willow said. “As hot as you are my heart belongs to Kennedy. Don’t get any ideas.”

She might have laughed under other circumstances. But all Buffy could think about was what Willow would find. Am I dying? she thought. Not now, not when I finally have a life away from monsters. Spike gave that to me and I don’t want to waste it.

Willow lightly touched Buffy’s toes. She ran her hands up her legs and to her middle. Despite Willow’s joke the feeling wasn’t erotic at all. Warmth spread through her and she stopped trembling. Her body sank into the couch. Willow made her way up to Buffy’s shoulders, neck, and then head. After that she retreated back to Buffy’s stomach and remained there.

“Oh my Goddess,” Willow whispered.

The words were distant to Buffy in her peaceful trance. She felt as if she were linked to the magnificent force she had once felt after jumping through Glory’s portal. The love and light wasn’t as powerful, but Buffy could sense it all around her, in her. It never left, Buffy thought. I always had it, but I never looked.

“Buffy, I think I know what is causing you to be sick. There’s nothing wrong with you at all. It’s beautiful. I can see it, so tiny. You’re going to be a mommy.”
Buffy’s eyes flew open. In a slam, the peace left her. “What!? Nothing wrong? How can there be nothing wrong?”

Willow tried to get Buffy to relax again, but the slayer would have nothing of it. She sat fully up and cupped her middle.

“You don’t want it?” Willow asked. “I thought you’d be happy.”

Buffy once again trembled. “I’d love to be a mommy, Willow, but . . .” Her eyes stung. “It has to be a demon baby. I haven’t been with anyone. They must have snuck into my house and planted their seed into my womb. I’ve heard stories of that happening.”

“When was the last time you were with anyone?” Willow asked.

“Not since . . .” Buffy froze. Her tears turned to those of another nature then. She understood. “Oh.”

Willow put an arm around Buffy. “Spike?”

“Oh, Will,” Buffy cried.

“Shhh,” Willow said.

Buffy wondered when Willow had become so soothing and intuitive. After the fall of Sunnydale she’d ventured to Brazil to do some training with some shamans there. Were they the ones to teach Willow this goodness? Or maybe Willow had gained it sometime during her astral journeys. Buffy could only guess.

“I saw her,” Willow said.

“Her?”

Willow nodded. “I think I could share it with you. Would you like?”

What mother would turn down this gift? Of course Buffy wanted to see the miracle growing inside her. All her fears had disappeared to be replaced with awe and gratefulness. She’d been given a gift. Finally after being shrouded in shadows she could hold onto a piece of light.
Willow carefully placed her palms upon Buffy’s skull. She instructed Buffy to close her eyes and once again get caught up in deep meditation.

Buffy was transported into another world. Red filled her vision. In the middle of this red was a small blob. She drew closer and the blob turned into a small person. Oh, God, I’m seeing her inside myself, Buffy realized. The baby was developed with long, tapering fingers, feet and toes. Her skin was almost transparent with a highway of arteries and veins. The embryo didn’t resemble anything like the cute, fully functional infants on earth. But Buffy knew that her baby was going to turn out beautiful.

Love shone from the baby, enveloping her mother. She already loves me, Buffy thought with wonder. She understood that she loved her as well. She tried to convey it back, but wasn’t sure if she achieved it. The baby’s legs kicked out and Buffy hoped it was a sign that she had.

Just before she was brought out of the mediation Buffy felt a pang of recognition. A tiny bit of Spike was there. It soaked into her heart for a split second, but jarred away when the connection broke. She came back to herself feeling bereft.

Willow smiled with accomplishment. “Pretty nifty trick, huh?”

“Yeah,” Buffy said.

Send me back, Buffy thought. I want to feel him again. He wasn’t there. It was just his contribution to the baby. It isn’t enough. I want him here. The baby should have him too. I should be satisfied. I shouldn’t ask for more. But why not? It isn’t like I haven’t given enough. I want my whole family.

“Buffy?” Willow gently shook her. “Are you okay?”

Buffy couldn’t say anything. She sunk into Willow’s embrace.

I deserve him, Buffy thought. She glared up at the ceiling.

_______________________________________________________

Thanks everybody for reading. I hope this part wasn’t over the top with the baby astral travel.

Rating- Definately NC17. I HAVE decided now

Summary- The Buffy we saw in The Girl in Question wasn’t the Buffy we know. She’s a visitor from another dimension. Spike must play hero once again to rescue his lady love and maybe even help her counterpart as well as his.

Disclaimer- I once thought I owned Buffy but I’ve had countless sessions with my doctor to help me realize Joss Whedon has copyrights


Chapter Four

Three Months Ago

The time after was filled with bitter-sweetness. The knowledge of her pregnancy was a blessing, but yet awoke loss as well. She spotted families while she was out that threw in her face a future that she would never have. It became so bad that she stayed mostly in doors to avoid them.

Willow stuck around for awhile. Buffy knew she suspected something was wrong despite her attempt to hide it. Every smile was tinged with heartache.

This is wrong, Buffy kept telling herself. I shouldn’t be selfish. The Powers gave me a miracle. Why do I want more? But she couldn’t help the longing.

“Bring him back,” Buffy begged. She was ready to fall to her knees before Willow if she had to.

Willow parted her lips.

“Please,” Buffy added.

“I can’t. You know I can’t. I learned my lesson, Buffy. I can’t mess with that kind of power. It’s playing God,” Willow said.

She’d been the slayer for so long, strong, always making the hard decision. Now it seemed that all the weakness that she’d been bottling up came shooting out. It was time for her to think about herself and her baby instead of the whole damn world, or even the universe.

“He’s a vampire. What if he is in hell? It wouldn’t be wrong to save him from torment.”

“He died a hero, Buffy,” Willow reminded.

“Can we check?”

Buffy hated herself then. A small part of her wished that he was in hell. I’m horrible. Horrible, bad Buffy.

Willow did check. She set up a circle and sent her mind into the fiery realms, scouring for Spike. But she didn’t find him. Which meant he had to be in heaven, right? Which was good. Yes Good. Buffy kept reminding herself this as the days passed. What has happened to myself? she wandered. She’d been okay before the discovery of her pregnancy. She was ready to start a new life. The complete 180 of Rome was a symbol for her wiliness to change. And now . . . All she could do was desire the past. She feared it might even grow worse after the baby was born. She didn’t know if she could handle seeing his blue eyes everyday when they didn’t belong to him. A glimmer of his presence, that was all they would be.

She hardly slept at night. Instead she stayed up and daydreamed. She let the ghostly figures pass before her eyes in the shadows. Distant conversations filtered into her ears.

‘Every night I save you.’

I should have saved you.

‘I’d do something different.’

Oh God, I’d do everything different.

‘You’re the one.’

I should have realized you were the one sooner.

‘I’d do it. For someone I loved. I’d do it.’

I’d do anything for you, Buffy thought. Just about anything right now.

I have to remember everything, Buffy vowed. I have to tell the baby everything about him. It’s going to be so painful to do it, though. All her thoughts were contradictory anymore. She wanted to do what was right for her baby, but she had all these dark feelings mixed in.

Somewhere Buffy knew she was loosing it. Maybe it was the slayer part. It yelled at her to pull herself out of this hole she’d crawled into. I’m going to be a psycho Mom. Buffy laughed in her head at that, which proved she was crazy.

“She’s pretending to sleep again.”

Buffy opened her eyes. Dawn underestimated the power of slayer hearing.

“This so isn’t good for the baby. Is there anything you can do?” Dawn asked.

There was a sigh. “I could make her tea,” Willow answered.

“She doesn’t need tea! She needs Spike.”

Buffy sat up and swung her legs over the side of the mattress. She crept over to the closed door and pressed the right side of her face against it. She waited, her heart squeezing with suspense. If anyone could persuade Willow into bringing Spike back it was Dawn. The girl knew the tricks to manipulate. She’d been the recipient for many beggings to visit friends.

“He’s not in hell, Dawnie. The only other dimension for the dead is heaven. And you know that would be wrong,” Willow said.

The magic word had been spoken. A spark lit and for the first time in weeks Buffy smiled for real. Her hand roamed to her stomach. It was mostly flat still but if she touched it just right she could detect the slightest curve.

“I’m going to bring Daddy home,” Buffy whispered.

A tear rolled down her cheek. Even if he isn’t the one I fell in love with, she silently added.

She stood there for a few moments until it was all worked out in her head. She grabbed hold of the doorknob and turned. She walked into the living room. Dawn and Willow sat on the couch in silence, seemingly deep in thought. Their heads rose abruptly at Buffy’s entrance.

“Buffy?” Dawn eyed Buffy uncertainly. “Are-Are you okay?”

Buffy smiled. It was the same smile that appeared in the bedroom.

“Here me out, guys,” Buffy said. “I have an idea.”

Willow flashed Dawn a look.

“Don’t interrupt until I’ve explained it all.” Buffy took her leader stance. “Spike is in heaven and we can’t bring him out. I get that, really I do. But what about another Spike? One who isn’t in heaven?”

“Uh, Buffy, I don’t-“ Willow began.

“Don’t interrupt!” Buffy snapped.

Startled, Willow shut her mouth.

“There are countless dimensions. Ones with shrimp, ones without.” She met their gaze with confidence. “Ones with undead Spikes. I can go into one of these dimensions and snatch him up to bring back home. Wallah, happy little Spuffy family.”

Willow slowly raised her hand. Buffy nodded her head for allowance to speak.

Willow leaned forward. “The Spike won’t be ‘your’ Spike, Buffy. Each one of these dimensions stem from the choices we make. And our choices form our experiences, which form who we are. Get it?”

“Huh? Kinda,” Buffy said.

“Okay, let me explain. Spike came back to Sunnydale to kill you but got taken by the Initiative. If he hadn’t chosen to come back that never would have happened.”

“And no chip,” Dawn added. She bit her lip.

“Exactly,” Willow said. “Which means he never would have come for sanctuary, moved into the crypt. . . “ She sadly turned toward Buffy. “Fell in love with you.”

And wouldn’t have gotten the soul. A hard piece of ice froze around Buffy’s heart.

“Besides, there are other Buffies too. You can’t steal a Spike from them just so you can be happy.”

“Then we’ll make sure I’m not around. We’ll find a dimension with a different timeline. One that is in the distant future,” Buffy blurted.

“Buffy. . .”

She was winning. All she had to do was keep pressing.

“You don’t know what you’ll find. What if you go into a cave man dimension with dinosaurs?” Willow was really searching for excuses now.

Buffy went over to the arm of the couch. She sank to her knees before Willow. Soft brown eyes met determined green.

“I have to do this, Willow. At least I have to try. You’d do the same for Tara. I know it’s impossible, but what if you discovered you were having her baby? And you are so unimaginably happy about it. But you want to share that happiness with her as well.”

Willow’s eyes swam. She nodded.

There were no words, but Buffy knew she’d won the battle.

______________________________________________________

Well, I confused at least one person. Okay, to clarify the parallel universe thing I have here a little paragraph someone wrote in response to a book called The Subtle Knife by Phillip Pullman.

Xelnaga, boy, age 15, from North East, United Kingdom, on 20th July 2005.

It is entirely posssibly that what Phillip Pullman describes is true. Each parallel reality would theoretically come into existence at the moment of a decision, where each reality takes a choice different to the other, there for, you could find a reality completely different to our own, where say life was never created, or where the only difference is 1 decision made by some one. That one decision how ever could have lasting repercussions, such as say some one never being born, or someone never inventing something, this would drastically alter the time line in the afore mentioned parallel reality.

And if one choice changes something, that would effect other people’s choices as well because of their reaction to it. Understand?
If you don’t get how there are two Buffies even though Buffy wants to go into a future without herself, that is going to be explained later on. There is a reason why another Buffy exists when she shouldn’t.

Warning- Oh, this is where it gets dark and the NC17 starts. But if you know me at all you’ll know that I always have a Spuffy fluffy ending.

Okay, onward with the story . . .

Chapter Five

Two Months Ago

One minute she was being illuminated by black and white candles, the next something massive gagged her. She tried to push away but hands gripped her head to keep her in position. In the distance she heard a deep moan. Her mouth filled with saltiness. Realization came and she promptly chomped down.

“Argh, Bitch!”

Buffy scrambled up from her knees, breaking free. Her stomach heaved. She doubled over and spilled the contents of her dinner. When she turned to face the horror she was met by one greater than she expected. A vampire glared at her with golden eyes, ridges rich on his facial features. He was completely naked, legs widely apart. She gulped as she took in the thing between them. More than eight inches, flaccid now, but she still remembered the way it violated her mouth with its hardness. Oh God, I’ll never be able to get the taste out, Buffy thought.

“I didn’t pay for this kind of treatment. Now get back down here and do it right, wench!”

Buffy took a step back. Her back hit something. She glanced behind to discover it was a desk. Wads of cash littered its surface. A chair accompanied it.

Before she knew what was coming her body was whipped around. Cold, rancid breath hit her straight in the face. She was slammed into the wall. The impact to the back of her head made her squeak. The vampire took hold of the ties that bound her red robe. He undid them. Rough fingertips graced across her belly.

When did I put on a robe? This isn’t right. No!

She raised her knee and slammed it into his crotch. He instantly backed away with a growl.

Buffy dashed back over to the desk. She grabbed the chair and flipped it over. The vampire got a hold of her again, pinning her to the floor. She struggled and spit in his face. He dove to slice her neck but she smashed her forehead into his. This allowed her to buck him away. She did a somersault back over to the chair. She snapped off the leg. The end didn’t turn out sharp enough. She tossed it aside and tried again. This time it was extra sharp and splintered. She sprung up and impaled it into her opponent’s heart. A cloud of dust fell over her.

She panted for a moment and then combed her fingers through her hair, shaking out the ash. She spotted a pile of clothing that looked her size near the bed. She snatched them up and quickly covered herself. The entire outfit was black and extremely tight. It reminded her of something Faith would pick out.

For the first time she took in her surroundings. The room was colorless, dingy, and smelled of sweat. She craned her neck and saw that the ceiling was covered in a mirror. Kinky . . . way disgusting. She stared at herself for a moment. Something white on her right wrist caught her eye. She glanced down and discovered it was a bracelet that resembled those distributed by the hospital. Instead of information such as name it had a zebra-striped barcode. She made a disgusted face and tore it off.

Okay, what first? She had to process her situation. She was in the future- over one-hundred years if Willow’s calculations were correct. She was in another dimension that should have had their Buffy dead. She should have popped in from nowhere in the place her apartment stood parallel in her world. She shouldn’t have been giving some sleaze-ball vamp a blow job!

What did that mean? Did she enter someone else’s body? No. She looked up again into the mirror. Same old her. The vamp would have noticed if his sex toy changed identity, wouldn’t he? Which meant she must have switched places with herself. So, either Willow got the time line wrong or she was really old.

Buffy went over to the desk, searching for clues. Along with the money was a crinkled piece of paper. On it was a list of names and times. I’m a hooker, Buffy thought. And who the hell is Francis? That better be a man with a very feminine sounding name.

Pounding erupted from the other side of the door. Buffy let go of the paper and spun around. She picked up her made stake. Her fingers clamped down hard around the wood.

“Your eleven o’clock is here! Finish him off already!”

Buffy didn’t like the sound of the voice. He sounded as if he had ownership over her. She didn’t respond, only prepared herself for the confrontation.

“You hear me in there!?”

The door burst open. A large vampire, close to seven feet, stomped in. He grimly scanned the room, starting on the disheveled bed and ending directly on her. His eyes flashed when he saw the stake.

“You never gave me any trouble before. Remember our agreement? I’ll turn you in if I have to.” He hungrily swept his gaze over her, licking his lips. Ewww, gross.

No trouble? Who the hell was this other her? A Faith double? And agreement? What agreement?

“This little robot is about ready to grow a personality. Ever seen I-Robot? Short Circuit?” Buffy asked, waving her stake.

The vampire snarled.

“No? Well, I’m about ready to create more trouble than they ever did.”

She rushed forward. He made an attempt to punch her but she ducked. She jumped back up and her stake met its mark. He exploded. She smiled in satisfaction. She went over and stuffed some of the money into her bra since she had no pockets. It might come in handy later.

Buffy cautiously exited the room and into a long hallway. Girls peeked out from open doors. Some seemed frightened while others were curious. All of them were in some sort of lingerie.

“Do you have any respect? Did you ever see Pretty Woman?” What was it with movies today?

They only eyed her with confusion. “Do they have television here?” she mumbled.

“Anyone want to break out of this joint, follow me,” Buffy said. No one moved. She sighed. Fine then. She moved to leave.

“Hurry up, she’s getting away!” one of the girls shouted.

Heavy footsteps thumped up from the wooden stairs. A vampire appeared. He wore a blue uniform, which was really weird for the undead. He was only a few inches taller than her and was actually pretty scrawny. She almost laughed. But then others followed behind, all wearing the strange uniform. They crowded around her. Buffy turned in circles.

She backhanded one, kicked another. She searched for an opening where she could slip past. There was none. They closed in on her. Her stake was ripped from her grasp. Strong hands dug into her shoulders from behind. She squirmed, almost breaking free. Another set of hands accompanied the first.

“She’s a strong one,” someone commented.

“Break out the tranquilizer, Merve.”

Buffy’s right arm was straightened. She felt a slight sting at the bend of her elbow. She fought the drowsiness that swept over her. She continued to thrash, but her muscles just didn’t have the strength they had a few moments ago. She refused to give up.

“Another one, Merve.”

“Another?”

“Yeah. Crazy.”

She jerked her arm away, but they got ahold of it anyway. Another needle penetrated the skin. Her legs gave out and she sagged to the floor. Through the fog she was aware of a vamp shaking his head.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was a slayer.”

“Can’t be. The line was snuffed out years ago.”

Buffy fell forward, her face meeting the floorboards.

____________________________________________________
This dimension is pretty angsty, guys. Just be prepared. I promise Spuffy sweetness with our favorite couple later, though. Just hang in there.

By the way, the two months ago is from Buffy’s point of view in reference to her experience. The dimension is over 100 yrs in the future regarding the Joss-verse.

Oh, and this chapter will give you some answers.

Chapter Six

Two Months Ago

The first thing Buffy did when she began to come to was let out a moan. Her entire body ached. She lifted her head and tried to control her dizziness. She felt zapped of energy. She slowly sat up and realized she was in a cell. She lay on a dirty mattress with a few holes, set in the back against the thick steel bars. She swung her feet over to the ground. They were bare and absorbed the iciness of the cement floor.

Buffy peered through the bars and saw that there were more cells outside her own. Most of them were empty but a few held captives like herself. They were all still knocked out.

Not good. Buffy touched the bump that held her child for strength. What had she done? This was all a mistake. She’d been so clouded in her judgment because of grief. She took in a deep breath and prepared to do the right thing. She wished she could stay and help the victims here but was afraid that if she stayed things would just get worse. She had a baby’s well being to think about.

She traced the scar that ran down her right palm. It was the link between this world and her own. Willow had a duplicate mark on her hand as well. They’d pressed the wounds together, mingling blood, binding life essences. She’d told her that all Buffy needed to do was close her eyes and tap into the connection, and then she could make her way back home.

Buffy did as she had been instructed. A sense of power washed over her. It was mixed with warmth, confidence, friendliness, love, worry, and a tiny pinprick of darkness. Willow, Buffy instantly thought. She took hold of the silver cord that tied their souls together. But suddenly there was a wall that prevented her to travel any further. Buffy pushed with all her might to break it. In a rush her spirit was thrown back into the cell. She slammed back into her body, making her fall back against the mattress out of breath.

It should have worked.

“Why?” Buffy whispered. She clutched her stomach and fought back the tears. I’m such a horrible mother, she thought. We’re stuck here? She shook her head.

“Why?” Buffy repeated louder.

“Because the Powers decided that you must stay.”

Buffy jumped up. Her expression hardened into anger when she saw who the voice belonged to. He was just as badly dressed as she remembered- maybe more so. This time he wore a bright red top-hat with an orange-striped silk shirt.

“Whistler!”

“You remember my name. I’m touched.”

Buffy scrambled to her feet. She marched over to the front of the cells and grabbed hold of the bars. “You little weasel! Come to piss on my life again!?”

The little man jumped back. He held his hands out in surrender. “Whoa, whoa, lay off, slayer! I only do what the Powers instruct me to do.”

“Well they are too lazy to show themselves. So my wrath is directed toward you!” Buffy spat. Her tiny hands slipped through the bars in a choking hold. Whistler pressed his back more into the wall behind him.

“How do I get back!?” Buffy demanded.

“You can’t. Not until you’ve fulfilled the Power’s bidding,” Whistler said.

Buffy’s hands went limp. “What? They want more from me? It isn’t like I haven’t done enough already or anything.”

“The Powers have countless worlds to look out for, not just your own. This one has been in trouble for a long time. Evil has managed to tip the balance and the Powers weren’t sure how to even the scale again. There was no hope until you came.”

Buffy pressed her forehead against the bars. Goodbye normal happy Rome.

“Your world has many slayers to look out for it. This one is defenseless. You see, The Buffy here has lost her path. We need you to fulfill her role.”

Buffy lifted her head. Her eyes widened. “The Buffy that belongs here is alive? How is that possible?”

“Long story, but I’ll make it short. Remember when you turned down the ancient Watchers’ offer for power to defeat the First?”

“The Shadowmen,” Buffy whispered. She nodded.

“Well, this Buffy didn’t. She accepted it even though she knew it would transform her into something else. . . And it did. It made her stronger, braver. . . darker.”

“Don’t forget kinkier,” Buffy added.

Buffy shuddered at the remembrance of the shabby bedroom she arrived in. How could this other her degrade herself so?

“She sure is one scrambled egg. She’s so clouded with darkness that the demons don’t even recognize her as slayer anymore. Even more so when her friends died,” Whistler said.

“Dead?”

“There was a big epidemic. This dimension’s Buffy beat back the First, but the hellmouth unleashed a darkness that infected the world’s population. Less than a third survived. She, however, remained immune. Afterward she gave up the fight and gave into the new order. Vampires took over, giving the remaining humans positions: some are slaves, others breeders, cattle for food, and yes, prostitutes. The Buffy here figured her station wasn’t so bad and went with it.”

She could identify with her double. She couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t wave the white flag of surrender if everything she fought for was ripped away. It was bad enough being pulled from heaven. But to watch the others move on when she couldn’t . . .

“The demon power,” Buffy said weakly. “It made her immortal, didn’t it?”

Whistler pointed at her. “Bingo. . . Well, mostly. She might die someday, but her life is prolonged.”

“So, what? The Powers decided that since this Buffy wouldn’t do their dirty work I’m their candidate?”

It never ends. She was a fool to believe she could finally rest. She flexed her fingers. She wished she could scratch someone’s eyes out.

“I don’t blame her,” Buffy confessed. “There doesn’t seem to be much to fight for.”

“You have something.” Whistler’s gaze focused on her middle.

“How dare they?” Buffy continued. “How dare they give me this baby and then put it into jeopardy.”

“She’ll be protected. Don’t worry.”

She glared despite the slight comfort his words created.

“They’ll send you back after you right things. Hang in there, kid, you’ll get your happily ever after eventually. “

Buffy pursed her lips. “I have to turn the tables? How am I supposed to do that?”

Whistler stepped forward. “I can give you a hint.”

“A hint? Can’t make this easy.”

“Go underground.”

Buffy blinked. “Underground? But how am I supposed to get there when I’m locked up here?”

“Your stay here isn’t over yet. That’s all I can tell you at the moment.”

With that, Whistler disappeared. No smoke, no shimmer of light. Just one second he was there, the next he wasn’t.

Buffy made it over to the mattress. She fell upon it and curled into a ball. She begged for the darkness to wash the impending mission away. Finally it did. Waking came too soon.

She slowly opened her eyes. The room was blacker than before, the side lights dimmed. The first thing she was aware of was the smell. She covered her mouth and nose in attempt to block it out. Slayer enhanced senses weren’t always a plus. Her nose still inhaled the stench. The next thing she took in was the sound of sobbing. Buffy sat up and searched for its source. It came from the cell beside her. A girl huddled in the corner against the metal that separated the compartments. She appeared to be no more than fifteen. She had red hair that ran down her back. It was heavily tangled. She wore a beige outfit that looked like a styled nightgown from the eighteen hundreds.

The girl sensed movement. She whipped her head around. Her brown eyes swam with tears. “I’m sorry,” she squeaked.

Buffy noticed the pile in the shadows and she understood. Poor girl. Their captors were so cruel that they didn’t provide toilets.

Buffy nodded. “It’s okay.” Buffy got down on her knees to face her new acquaintance. “I’m Buffy. What’s your name?”

The girl’s tears slowed. “E-cho.”

“Echo?” Buffy’s eyes widened. “That’s an unusual name. I like it.”

Echo’s shoulders shook. “They wanted to call me Katie. But my real name is Echo.”

Buffy parted her lips. They? The vampires?

Echo glanced around. “I-I think the guy next to me is d-dead. I can’t tell for sure but . . .”

Buffy craned her neck. She could barely make out the prone form in the cell past Echo’s.

“He. . .” Echo sucked in a deep breath. “He thrashed and then. . .” She broke down again.

There was just enough space for Buffy to reach her arm through the bars. She gently laid her hand on Echo’s shoulder. The girl stiffened and then relaxed.

“We’ll get out of here. I promise,” Buffy vowed.

She raised her head and glared. She’d save this world. Not for the Powers, but for Echo and the others here.

Echo shook her head. “Even if we did, there’s nowhere to go.”

Underground, Buffy thought. Something must be down there.

At that moment Buffy’s stomach decided it couldn’t handle the stink anymore. She tried to stifle the bile that rose in her mouth.

“Are you okay?” Echo perked up.

She tried to reply, but there was just enough time to avert her head before she heaved. There wasn’t really anything to spill. It came out clear. She moaned and closed her eyes after the wave was over. Her stomach still did flip-flops.

“Don’t die,” Echo begged. “Please don’t die and leave me here alone like Mom.”

Buffy longed to tear the bars away so she could hug her. She reminded her of Dawn- the old Dawn. The Dawn that needed taken care of; before she was trained, making her sister confident and brave.

“I’m not going to die,” Buffy whispered soothingly. She ran her fingers over Echo’s long locks.

“Don’t get sick. They always get sick.”

“I’m not sick,” Buffy assured her. “I’m-“

Echo drew back. “Pregnant.”

Buffy was surprised. “How did you know?”

“I know the signs. I broke out of the breeding facility too. I couldn’t let them implant me. But I was there long enough to watch the others.”

“Breeding facility?” Buffy furrowed her brow. “Is that where the vampires force humans to mate?”

Echo gave Buffy a weird look. She scooted a little farther away.

“What did I say?” Buffy asked.

“Everyone knows. You must have been there too because you’re pregnant. It isn’t done that way anymore.” Echo spoke slowly.

“Huh? What isn’t?”

“Making babies, duh. We can’t anymore. They have to implant us.”

A chill ran over Buffy. She hugged herself.

“Implant? As in artificial insemination? Are we infertile?”

Echo laughed. “Did you hit your head or something?”

“Something like that,” Buffy said.

“We can’t reproduce naturally. Not after the disease came. The vampires decide who the healthiest vessels are for a baby.” Echo frowned. “They have to keep humans from extinction for food.”

The sound of footsteps pounded loudly toward them. Echo jumped up. She backed away until she hit the bars. She wildly shook her head.

“No, they’re here!” Echo cried.

Buffy got to her feet as well. “Echo, what are they going to do to us?”

“I don’t want it!” Echo screamed. Her whole body trembled.

“What!? What don’t you want?” Buffy grew impatient. She needed answers. “Answer me!”

“I should never have escaped. I knew, but I hoped-“

“Answer, damn it! What are they going to do to us, Echo!?”

The footsteps were almost there now.

“I was better off before. Oh God!” Echo hid her face in her hands.

Buffy felt a tingling pinprick on the back of her neck. Vampire. She stiffened.

He stopped for a moment at the cell next to Echo’s. He huffed and passed on. He came to stand before Echo’s door.

“It’s time,” he said.

“No!” Echo shrieked. “I’ll behave, I promise. Don’t do this to me!”

The vampire jiggled a key in the door. Buffy went to her own door. She mustered all the strength she could. She rammed against it. She hissed as the collision spread pain down her side. She grabbed the bars and tried to bend them, break them, anything. She let out a whimper. They must have administered a muscle relaxant like Giles had on her eighteenth Birthday.

“You should have thought of the consequences,” the vampire said. He slapped Echo across the cheek. Her head whipped to the side. “We can do this the hard way or easy way. It isn’t like we’re going to kill you. All you need to do is go beddy bye for a few hours while we tinker with your head.”

Buffy’s stomach twisted for another reason.

“We can’t trust you anymore. Your actions are too unpredictable. The only alternative is death. Now be a good girl, Katie,” the vampire went on.

“Her name is Echo!” Buffy said.

The vampire shifted his eyes to land on Buffy. He morphed his features into demon visage. A smirk played on his lips.

“You’re next, but I could always take you first.”

Buffy stepped back from the door. She straightened her stance and held her arms to the side, palms up. “Be my guest. You have a volunteer.”

“What are you doing!?” Echo said.

A small smile formed on Buffy’s face. The vampire slapped Echo again and then backed away from her. He locked the door and transferred his attention toward Buffy. His eyes ran over her from toes to head.

“You don’t say? I’ve read your record. I think you’re just eager for the examination before surgery. All those cold hands running over your flesh. Does it make you hot?” the vampire mocked.

Buffy let it go. She swallowed the fear fighting to rise. As she was dragged away, she snuck a peek at Echo. She’d done the right thing. Buffy had a chance to escape this, Echo didn’t. She held her head high as she was pulled toward the lion’s den.

__________________________________________________

I will probably get to Spike in the one after next. Be patient, please.

Chapter Seven

Two Months Ago

Buffy took one look at the examining room and almost regretted taking Echo’s place. Almost. But she was a slayer, and one reason she was selected as so was her altruism. She averted her eyes from the sharp tools next to a table she assumed awaited just for her. The vampire nudged her forward.

Suddenly she got an idea. She sprung into action, diving for the medical tools. She grabbed the fiercest looking one, a long hook. She hated to think what its purpose was. She waved it out in front of her, determined to create another use.

“Don’t be stupid,” the vampire warned.

She ignored the words, coming at him. He managed to snatch her arm. She flailed around. She focused her strength and got free. She didn’t hesitate and jammed the scary tool into his heart. He hollered, falling to his knees.

Too bad it wasn’t wood. It’d only postpone him. She had to think fast. If she had her complete ability she’d be able to twist his neck. She glanced around. Was there a saw? No such luck, but there was a knife. Maybe she could cut his head off. She recalled the time she cut at the varsity vamp’s neck with a tiny exacto knife. It’d take work, but . . .

Someone else entered. Buffy turned around and dropped the knife.

“Riley!?” she gasped.

He stepped up to stand over her. “Hello, Buffy.”

The vampire clutched his chest, raised his head, and said, “Carefull, Finn, I think the relaxers are wearing off.”

“Already?” Riley smirked. “Slayer constitution.”

“The slayers were wiped out,” the vampire croaked.

“All except one.” Riley’s eyes bore into hers. They were different. Something was different about him.

“How?” Buffy whispered.

His hand wrapped around her wrist. She jerked at his icy flesh and it all fell into place. She shook her head.

“Oh, Riley, I’m sorry,” Buffy said.

“We already went over this, Buffy. Save your sorries. I don’t need them.”

Out of nowhere he lifted a syringe. He jabbed her arm before she could react. It took immediate effect. She slumped in his arms. Powerful stuff. He gathered her up. He cradled her close, smoothing down her hair, his lips close to her ear.

“Things didn’t have to be this way. All you had to do was let me change you. But now it’s too late.”

Buffy cringed.

He settled her down on the table. There were leather straps, which he fastened into place.

Riley turned his head. “Leave. This is my job.”

The other vampire scurried away.

All she could do was watch as he held up a tiny piece of silicon.

“Here it is.” He gazed at it almost like a lover. “Amazing isn’t it? So small, but so powerful. Sorta like you.” He put the chip down onto the nearby table. “We thought you were under control. I told them that we couldn’t trust you, that you were unpredictable at first. But then I was curious. And so I came to test you. You let me do all sorts of naughty things.” His hand traveled up her leg to rest on her inner-thigh. She tried to flinch away, but her muscles wouldn’t obey.

“I agreed, you were broken. But you were hiding inside, weren’t you? Somewhere.” He shook his head. “Too bad. Your power needs to be kept in check.”

Oh God. Oh God.

Was this how Spike felt when he realized he was about ready to be controlled? So helpless, so scared.

“Now for the fun part. The examination. We have to be sure everything is in working order. Would be a waste of money to dispose of a chip that lasted less than a year.”

He took a pair of medical scissors. She made a weak sound of protest as he began to cut the fabric of her clothing. He stripped her down to nothing. She closed her eyes, completely humiliated.

He prodded and poked. Buffy traveled somewhere else. Somewhere far away from it all. Somewhere where she was loved, protected . . . home. Somewhere where Spike was with her.

“Mmm,” Buffy moaned. “I love your chest. I declare it mine.”

He chuckled, shaking said chest. “Should I get a tattoo, pet? One that says ‘Buffy’s Pillow’.”

She burrowed deeper into him. “I like that plan. Should I get one for you? What part do you want to claim?”

He playfull growled and flipped her over. He proceeded to roam over her body. Her naked flesh ignited with a thousand volts of electricity. She shivered from the intensity.

“Which part of my slayer do I proclaim mine? Hmmm?” He smirked. He held up her right leg. “Her calf is quite exquisite. But her thigh . . . Oh, but I think I like her bum even better.”

She lifted off the mattress to let him squeeze both cheeks. He ran up the sides of her waist next. Then he leaned down to play with her belly-button. She giggled, squirming. She tangled her fingers in his disheveled bleached locks.

He went for the pressure point at her neck. He nipped with blunt teeth. She gasped when he felt her breast. He lifted his head to examine her eyes. She became absorbed in his own potent blue ones. She could have gotten lost there to never return.

“I can’t choose. Can’t I have all of you?” He sounded like a little boy asking for a puppy at Christmas time but knowing his parents were allergic.

“Only if I can have all of you in return,” she replied.

“You already do, Buffy. Always. Forever. You know that.”

“Always, forever,” she agreed.

She spread herself fully and brought her hips up. He nudged the tip of his cock at the entrance of her folds. He closed his eyes and pushed inside. They just held each other for a moment, aghast at their wholeness. Buffy realized then that they would always belong to each other. My other half, she thought. My soulmate.

Then he began to move. He went deeper and deeper, into her core, into her entire being. She parted her lips, her breathing hard, her heart beating more than enough for the both of them. She arched her back, begging for more friction, for a quicker pace. Fill me up. Make me whole. Take all of me. Let us merge together. Let us never be apart again.

Yes, like that.

She grabbed hold of his shoulder and dug her nails deep into his flesh. Her walls fluttered around him. She collapsed completely, crying out his name. His eyes rolled back in his head. He lifted his head and hollered like an animal.

They fell back on the bed, exhausted, still linked.

“Oh, luv . . . That was . . .”

“Uh huh.” She panted.

It could have been forever later, or maybe only a few seconds, she didn’t know. He shifted.

“Somebody should check on Hope,” Spike said.

“Who?”

He lifted a brow, giving her a funny look.

“Buffy Summers, you have to snap out of it.”

Buffy gathered up the covers and covered herself. She glared at the funny looking man next to the bed. She frantically searched the now empty space beside her.

“Where did he go?” Buffy asked.

Whistler sat down on the bed. She sat up, scooting to the edge.

“Do you ever want to see your friends again? Your family? Then you have to wake up.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t want to. Can’t I stay here?”

“You’ll get your happily ever after, kid. But you’ll never reach it if you play pretend,” the half-demon told her.

“Promise?”

He paused. “Promise. Now, wake up.”

“Wakey, wakey, slayer.”

Buffy groaned. She squinted against the whiteness of the room.

“Passed out on me, Buffy. We’re not even to the enjoyable part yet.”

Something cold slid over her bared stomach. She managed to lift her head enough to glance down. It was some kind of metal device. Riley examined the small screen on the top, giving him figures. He suddenly halted the scan. He held the gadget up to get a closer look.

Riley peeked at Buffy and then back at the screen. “Can’t be.”

Buffy was beginning to get a very bad feeling. What could it say? Could it somehow detect that she was a traveler from another dimension?

Riley’s eyes hardened.

The electric doors opened. Another vampire entered. He wore a long white lab coat.

“How is it coming along, Finn?”

Riley wasn’t able to speak. He passed the micro-computer scanny thing over. The scientist vamp almost dropped it. He shakily placed it down. He stared at Buffy with awe and a tinge of fright.

What? What is it? What do you see?

“Are you sure?” the lab-coat questioned.

“Positive, sir. I checked twice,” Riley said.

“Check again.”

Riley took up the instrument. He hesitantly stepped over to Buffy. He placed the metal back over her belly.

Do they see what’s inside? Buffy thought. Oh no, this isn’t happening. Buffy prayed Whistler was right. That her baby was safe.

Riley examined the readings. “Same thing.”

“Get a complete log.”

The scientist pulled Riley over to the door. They spoke in a hushed tone. They must have thought that she wouldn’t be able to hear. Riley never came to realize the intensity of slayer senses. She could hear every word loud and clear.

“Do more tests. Pin-point the cause of this. Do a DNA detection. Track down the father,” lab-coat ordered.

Riley nodded.

“The sooner the better. The implications of this . . .”

“She’s a slayer, sir.”

“A what?”

“I knew her before I was reborn. We thought she wasn’t a threat, so we let her live. A big mistake. Maybe we should just get rid of her and be done with this mess.”

“No do. This might be a sign that the humans are repairing themselves genetically. We have to keep her around until we know for sure.”

“Yes, sir. But her ability to impregnate might be for the slayer alone. The sickness might have by-passed her,” Riley informed.

The other vamp nodded. “But there is still the question of the father. He could reproduce. Find him, understand?”

“Yes, sir. I-I understand.”

* * * * * * * *

Riley waited impatiently as the computer checked the fetus DNA scan for a paternal match. Finally the screen changed, bringing up the results.

No match.

Riley gritted his teeth. There was no way Buffy Summers was another Mary. There had to be a father. He told the computer to search the deceased.

No match.

Impossible. A baby couldn’t appear out of nowhere.

Riley brought up a virtual replica of the DNA strands to examine himself. He saw something he’d never come across before. Instead of a double helix step-ladder, he was staring at a tightly bound braided rope. He needed a second opinion. He sent the information to the head DNA processor. If she couldn’t make heads or tails out of this no one could.

When the phone rang he snatched it up. “What are your partakes in the matter?”

“Finn, I have here a miracle child. A one of a kind. This is no human being. The molecular structure is . . . Well, I can’t believe I’m going to say this but . . . If I break it apart I can distinguish a group of nucleotides almost human. Almost. But there seems to be an increased ability of cell repair. In the other half, it resembles that of a vampire.”


Riley blinked.


“I’m talking power here beyond imaginable. Are you with me?”


“I’m with you,” Riley said. “So, the father must be a vampire?”


“I-It would appear so.”


Riley hung up. He told the computer to search matches for vampires.


One match. Riley leaned forward.


William the Bloody.


Turned 1880 in London. Head leader of the Initiative Revolution of October, 1999.


But Riley knew all this already.


He had to find Spike. Which wouldn’t be hard. Afterall, Spike was his sire.

_____________________________________________________

Spikey will make an appearance next chappy.

Thanks, everyone, for the reviews and encouragement. This part doesn’t have any action, but it does introduce you to this dimension’s Spike. And through inner monologue, you get some backstory.

Chapter Eight

Two Months Ago

Spike missed dog races and Manchester United. He missed the billions of people running around in a frenzy, frightened, weak. He missed the hunt, the kill. He missed feeling a girl go limp in his arms, her pulse slowing, but still warm. He missed the dance- the slayer. He missed Drusilla maybe most of all.

He used to love the world. So large, so exciting. He was free to unleash his power upon it and revel. But now there was hardly anything left. People confined in cages, their population hovering just above the extinction line. They had to rely on vampires to reproduce, and miscarriages were more common than live births. What was the fun in that?

The depression deepened as he reluctantly retracted his fangs from the girl’s offered wrist. Her soft brown eyes lifted to land on his face. He shook his demon aside, even though it didn’t matter. She couldn’t see it. A small smile formed on her pale lips. She swayed a little on her knees. He grabbed her arms, steadying her.

“Do you feel better now?” she softly asked.

It always threw him, every time she showed concern. He was a monster, her keeper. But then again, compared to the other vamps she came across before he was probably a bloody saint in her eyes. Oh, not a good analogy. In her mind was better.

“Thanks, pigeon. But I’m rightly concerned about you. Did I take too much?”

He inwardly cringed. No wonder she thought he was one of Jesus’ disciples with statements like that. But if things were different, if he’d come across her two centuries ago, he would have drained her dry in less than five minutes.

“I’ll be fine. Just need to rest a bit.” She crawled over next to the unlit fire place and curled into a ball. Almost instantly he sensed her fall asleep.

Spike reached over beside him on the black leather sofa and grabbed an afghan. He went over and draped it over her prone form. He watched her for awhile, going over how he’d come to have such a housemate.

Her name was Aradia, and she wasn’t his slave. She was- Actually he had no idea what she was to him.

He’d come across her one night, on the run. She smashed into his chest, looked up at him with sightless eyes, but with something in them. She saw something there, not optically but psychically. He’d seen that look in Drusilla once upon a time. There were hunters after her. They wanted to kill her. They blinded her and yet she still saw. She saw a place, where humans were free.

Spike fought them off. He didn’t know why exactly. But ever since, Aradia and he stuck together. He got her food, she gave him some in return. It worked. Especially since he was a boycotter toward the system and wasn’t about to accept zombie food.

Vampires were ingrained monsters, humans were the prey. It was nature. Humans were not supposed to be cattle. He could taste it in their blood. Life was blood, and there was very little of it left. It was sour, made him sick. How the other vamps could stand the rancidness of it was a mystery. The whole order had been screwed up royally.

And it was his fault.

It could all be pinpointed to Riley Finn. His biggest mistake, his lowly childe. He snorted. Now he knew how Angelus felt toward himself.

It had made sense at the time. He was one of those ‘act now and think later’ types, though. Drusilla had just turned to dust and the pain was fresh. He wanted revenge. He wanted to hurt Buffy in the same way. So he targeted her new honey. He made Riley a vampire.

But there were ugly side-effects. Riley had to have his wacko mummy figure, Maggie Walsh, as his kind also. And together they came up with the idea of letting the demons loose in the Initiative and chipping the soldiers and scientists. Okay, Spike was down with that. He wanted a hand at showing them that vampires weren’t under anyone’s control. He even led the operation. Well, he liked to think he did. But that wasn’t the end of it. Maggie Walsh wanted world domination.

A deadly virus swept through the land. And afterward Maggie Walsh, along with Riley Finn, created a new army. The Initiative V2.0, go figure. They chipped the humans that didn’t surrender, put them in pens.

He even tracked down Buffy, ready to do the whole truce bit again. His last resort. He didn’t want to face her, even to fight her, not after what she did to his dark princess. It should have given him some kind of satisfaction, the depleted creature he found. But it didn’t. The world was doomed.

Aradia let out a small moan. He knelt down to touch her forehead. She had a fever. He took too much too soon. He brought the blanket over her shoulders. Realizing what he did, he quickly stood up.

It was a remnant from his William days, taking care of people. He’d had to look after his mum ever since he hit thirteen. He wished he could bury the trait, but it wouldn’t go away.

He snatched up the black duster that draped haphazardly over a chair. He fell into it, his second skin. It made him feel more big bad. He nodded and went for the door.

He needed some smokes and booze. And while he was at it, why not stop and pick up a bucket of hot wings. Spike sighed. Aradia liked the herbal baked chicken wings they had there too.

He snuck one last glance at the slumbering girl. His lips twitched. Truth was, he was glad he had some company.

__________________________________________________

Ha ha, what fun! So, um, Spike might be chipless and soulless, but there’s that ingrained need to look after someone. And he doesn’t like the new organization that took over the world.

Hope you all understood the Riley thing. He turned him because Buffy killed Drusilla and he wanted revenge.

Chapter Nine

Two Months Ago

Spike abruptly stopped in his tracks. At first he thought it might be Angel, but he’d been missing for years. He groaned, realizing who tugged at the familial line. Riley was near. He’d been fortunate enough to avoid him for about a hundred years. He put the container of spiced chicken down on the pavement and braced himself for the confrontation. Why Riley would be seeking him out he couldn’t fathom. Whatever it was couldn’t be good. They hadn’t parted on pleasant terms. Actually, they never had pleasant terms.

He sensed the childer-sire bond strengthen. He balled his hands into fists.

Riley rounded the corner. Spike let out a chuckle at the blue uniform he had on.

“Soldier boy.”

“Spike. Can’t say the hermit unlife has been kind,” Riley said.

“Oh, like that military garb doesn’t scream poofter all over. Did Mommy Walsh design it just for her favorite boy?”

Riley ignored the comment. “I didn’t come here to exchange gibes.”

“What did you come here for?”

“You, Spike.”

Spike scrunched up his forehead. “For whatever for?”

“Can’t a childe just want to spend some quality time with his sire?” Riley laughed. “To my dismay, it seems you have a purpose afterall for our mission.”

“Bugger that!” Spike fell into a fighting stance. “You know, I should have dusted you in front of the slayer. Probably would have burned just as much as having you prance around with a vendetta against man-kind.”

“But you didn’t, did you?”

“You think you can take me, boy?”

With a growl, Spike rushed at Riley. Both their demons came out, eyes flashing golden with fury. They exchanged blows, each damaging the other equally. Spike grinned, exposing his vicious fangs. He was enjoying this. It had been too long since he could participate in a decent brawl. He held back on unleashing his true potential, which would have ended it too quickly.

Riley managed to smash the side of his face into a nearby dumpster. Okay, maybe it was time to crank up the volume. Spike tackled, pinning Riley down. He ripped a chunk out of Riley’s neck. He lifted his head, his chin drenched in red. As he spoke, blood splattered onto Riley.

“Understand who’s boss . . . childe.” The last part dripped with vehemence.

But Spike overlooked what Riley Finn relied on, and it wasn’t blood and muscle. He lifted a black toy that resembled a ball-point pen. Before Spike could react the thing was embedded in his arm. He fell into spasms. Riley retracted the device, kicked him off, and jumped to his feet. He stood over Spike, a mess, but in the supremacy.

“You don’t get it, Spikey!” Riley waved the device. “Science rules now. Your way of life is in the past.”

Spike’s muscles suddenly relaxed. He tried to move but found he could not. His eyelid became heavy.

“You’ve got it all wrong. I’m ‘your’ master,” Riley added.

The last thing Spike thought was, ‘Who is going to take care of Aradia?’

* * * * * * * *

They didn’t return her to the cell. Instead they brought her to a room with an actual bed and bath. She almost cried at the feel of hot water and soap. She spent as long as she could under the spray until she couldn’t stand the coolness of it any longer. They provided a change of clothing, not as bad as the nightgown Echo had been wearing, but definitely not mall-bought. It was a long green dress, one size-fits all. Which was comfy actually. She had barely been able to squeeze into the tight clothing prior.

She collapsed on the soft mattress with a moan of pleasure. She slept her fill and awoke with her mind cleared. She examined the small room for flaws, any way out. There were none, not that she expected there to be.

Time passed. She became bored, lonely. She missed the company of Echo. She hoped somehow the girl was alright.

To escape the silence she began to speak to the baby. She sang and told it stories of a place that was happier. A place she hoped she could return to in time for the birth. She knew the video camera mounted on the ceiling caught it all. She didn’t care.

Buffy wondered how long she’d been gone. She’d lost count. A week? Two? Three? A month? The days bled together.

No one came, which was odd. Each morning a tray of food slipped through the slit in the door. It kept her weak, but she couldn’t refuse it. She couldn’t deny her baby nourishment.

And then, during the night, she awoke to a click. She sat up in bed and waited. The door burst open and something was dumped inside with her. The door closed as fast as it opened.

Her eyes fell on the black heap. The prickles on the back of her neck screamed vampire. She got to her feet, ready to defend herself.

“Bloody hell!”

Buffy’s knees gave out, crumbling like jello. “Spike?”

Spike. Spike. Spike’s here, her mind cried. This is why you’re here. You’ve got what you were searching for.

She sensed movement. “Slayer? Is that you? Ah, what did the gits do to me? Can’t hardly move.”

She crawled over to his side. He lay on his back, helpless. She slid his head into her lap. He gazed up at her with wide, confused blue eyes. She shivered. The tears came. She bowed her head and let them fall. She just held him, blocking out where they were.

“Have I woken up in a tipsy-turvy dimension that is flipped upside down?” Spike moaned.

She sniffed and cracked a smile. “Well, yeah,” she said truthfully.

He nodded. “Thought so. Last time I checked we were enemies. If my legs worked properly and we weren’t in this mess I’d be having my one good day. Did they do a number on you? Played with your noggin?”

Buffy let out a long sigh. So they still hated each other here? Great.

“No. I’m 100% Buffy-brained me,” she said.

“Then why is it that you are holding me like your star-crossed lover come back from the dead?”

Buffy laughed. She laughed and laughed and laughed. And then she cried again. All the while she held him close, never wanting to let him go. Even if he was soulless.

Spike watched her in silence until she quieted down. “You’re further off the rocker than the last time. At least you’re talkative.”

“Oh, Spike . . .”

She wanted to pour her heart out. Make him believe that she loved him. And why the hell not?

“I love you,” she whispered.

He scrambled up. He almost toppled back down, but she grabbed him. He pushed her away and turned to the wall for support instead. He panted, cocking his head at her in that ‘I can see you’ sort of way.

“I get it now.” He pointed at her. “You’re not her! You’re a double, some kind of experiment they created to torment me.”

She hugged herself. “Yeah. Not about the experiment part, but the other. Meet Buffy the second. I came from another dimension.”

He shook his head. “How can you love me? If you aren’t even the Buffy I . . . You don’t even know me.”

She reached out for him, but let her arm fall in defeat at the glare he shot. “You’re Spike. That’s all I need to know.”

He narrowed his eyes. No one moved for a long span. Then he stiffened.

“What?” she gently asked.

On unsteady legs, he stepped up to her. He sniffed. “There’s something off about you. You smell different.”

“Yeah, Buffy version two, remember?”

“No, that’s not it.” He concentrated hard.

“Oh.” Buffy clamped her hands around her abdomen without thinking.

He got it then, what was up. The impact of it made him lose his balance. She caught him, lowering him down to his knees along with her.

“Smells like me,” he choked.

“You can smell yourself? That’s weird,” she replied with a small laugh.

“I didn’t . . . It’s not mine!” he snapped.

“It is,” she forced.

“No, can’t be. I’d remember. Is there another me, is that it?”

“Yeah. He uh . . . he died,” she whispered.

“And so I’m a replacement? Can’t have the real thing so you’ll settle for whatever you can find?”

She remained silent. She shut her eyes, a little ashamed.

“No thank you, slayer,” he spat. “I’m not going to fill the role of this other me so you can pretend he never left. The daddy of your baby is dust in the wind and you need to accept that,” he continued.

Is that what this was all about? She was looking for another Spike to forget the pain? An escape mechanism? Yes, she realized. That was exactly her intentions. She hated herself at that moment. Spike, her Spike, deserved to be cherished, to be remembered for his valiant sacrifice. And here she was, ready to cast him aside for another. Not even a clone. This Spike made different decisions, probably had his own personality.

She stared at the vampire in front of her through misty vision. He had the same bleached hair, hallow cheek bones, and leather duster. But if she looked deeply into his eyes she could detect a void. Eyes are windows to the soul. He was missing a soul so . . . But no. Her Spike had the spark before going to Africa.

Buffy turned away from the stranger who now occupied her room. She went over to the bed, faced the wall, and let her body tremble as she was overcome with sobs. He never made another sound during the night and kept to the other side of the room.

________________________________________________________

Chapter Ten

31 days ago

They didn’t talk. Spike huddled in the corner. He tried not to look anywhere that consisted of slayer. She lay curled in the bed with the covers up to her chin. She remained still, lost in the replay of past events.

She felt like each moment with Spike, her true vampire, was slipping away. She grappled them back, reliving the events in vivid color, so raw, bittersweet. She was too inwardly riveted to even outwardly cry. But she felt it inside with welcoming. She’d carry him until the end because the pain was worth it. He was worth it.

30 days ago

Spike became twitchy. He finally stood up and began to pace in front of the door. He tried to keep his mind vacant. If he didn’t think he wouldn’t have to accept the reality of being in the position of a caged animal.

The silence was getting to Buffy. She laid her head against the brass headboard of the bed. She decided to pretend it didn’t matter that he was there.

“Hush-a-bye don't you cry,” Buffy began to sing. “Go to sleep, my little baby.” She rubbed the small bulge of her stomach. It seemed to be getting more noticeable everyday, at least in the shower without the overflowing green dress. And as it grew, so did her love for her daughter, accompanied with a need to escape her prison.

”When you wake you shall have - All the pretty little horses. Blacks and bays, dapple grays.” Her voice wavered, a little off-key. “Coach and six white horses. Hush-a-bye don't you cry. Go to sleep-y, little baby.”
She thought she felt Spike’s gaze but when she turned he was focused on something interesting on the floor.

29 days ago

Buffy admitted to her childishness and decided to instigate Spike-acknowledgement. She shouldn’t be mad at him. All he did was get her to face the truth. Maybe he wasn’t her Spike, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get to know him. Just as long as he didn’t take her Spike’s place.

“You know, this is stupid,” she declared. “Us playing the ignoring game. I guess I loose. I’d give you a gold star, but I’m all out.”

She was rewarded with nothing.

“You have more self control than my Spike. He would have snapped by now. Maybe he wouldn’t have talked directly to me, but he would have talked just to hear his own voice.” She laughed, while trying not to open up the wound she wasn’t sure would ever fully heal.

Still he said nothing. She sighed. She rested her palm over her unborn child.

“Guess I’ll talk to you then. You’d talk to Mommy if you could, wouldn’t you, baby?”

28 days ago

“Early one morning, just as the sun was rising, I heard a maid sing in the valley below. Oh don't deceive me, Oh never leave me. How could you use, a poor maiden so?"

” Remember the vows you made to me truly. Remember how tenderly you nestled close to me. Gay is the garland, fresh are the roses I’ve culled from the garden to bind over thee. Here I wonder alone as I wonder.”

“You skipped a whole verse,” Spike said.

Buffy snapped her head to the side. Her mouth hung open.

“So hell finally froze, I see,” she quipped.

He glowered and looked away.

”Through yonder grove, by the spring that is running. There you and I have so merrily played. Kissing and courting and gently . . . and gently. Hmm. . .” She hummed the forgotten part.

”Gently sporting,” Spike corrected.

“Gently sporting. Oh, my innocent heart you've betrayed,” Buffy sang on. “How could you fright a pretty girl who loves you so dearly and warm? Though love's lolly is surely but a fancy. Still it should prove to me sweeter than your thorn.”

Spike stood up. “That’s slight, not fright. And folly, not lolly! And scorn, not . . . Hey, you’re messing up on purpose to get me going. Well, it isn’t going to work!”

She shrugged. “Actually I’m not. I can never get stuff right. Ask Giles. It’s a thing. Besides, it isn’t like it has catchy lyrics.”

He didn’t respond.
"Oh don't deceive me. Oh never leave me. How could you use, a poor maiden so?" Buffy ended softly.

27 days ago

As soon as Spike awoke he started to do push-ups. He was going on one-hundred when Buffy decided to get off her lazy butt and do something as well. She hesitated, unsure. What exercises were okay to do while pregnant, and what weren’t?

She suddenly had a piercing sense of fright. She really wanted her mom, or at least one of those mother-to-be magazines that clearly laid out what to do and what not to do. She was pretty much alone here.

She ended up going for the safe thing and just gently jogged around the room in circles. There wasn’t a lot of space and she found herself getting dizzy. She stopped and proceeded to do arm stretches instead.


26 days ago

“I spy with my little eye something white,” Buffy said.

“Is it the wall?” Spike asked, already knowing the answer.

“Wow, how’d you guess? Your turn.”

“I see something silver,” he said.

“Oh, could it be the video camera?”

“Ding ding,” Spike said.

She pouted. “This game is no fun.”

He looked over from his position beside her on the edge of the bed. He was stricken by how cute she was at that moment. He’d never seen the other Buffy this way. She’d always been on fire with slayerness. He was witnessing a girl that wasn’t consumed by darkness. An emphasis on the ‘girl’.

“Have to agree. Not much to pick from,” Spike remarked.

Her head rose. “How much do you think they see?”

“Don’t rightly know. Could be every second.”

Buffy got to her feet. She stepped over before the camera and craned her neck. “You could at least give us a board game!” she shouted. She judged how high above her head it was. She tried jumping. She could almost reach. Suddenly red beams shot out and zapped her hand. She hissed, falling to a crouch.

“What in the bleeding hell are you doing?” Spike shot over to her side. He took her hand and examined it. The skin looked fine.

“I’m trying to break it, that’s what.”

“They got it rigged. Some sort of mechanical force-field.”

She shrugged. “It was worth a try.” She paused. “Ever play ‘I’m going to grandma’s house’?”

He rose an eyebrow.

“No? Well, it is a rhyming thing. I say something and then . . .”


25 days ago

It was night. Or so they deduced because periodically the lights would dim.

Buffy was going to crack. The walls were closing in on her. Her chest tightened, crushing in on her lungs. She glanced around in a panic. No window. Just white walls wherever she turned. She squirmed in the bed and kicked off the sheets.

Spike watched the discomforted Buffy with cloudy emotions. He tried to hate her, but found it surprisingly difficult. She wasn’t the one who had dusted Dru.

Suddenly, Buffy jumped out of the bed. She went over to the door and banged upon it with her fists. She howled like a wolf in agony.

There was only so much Spike could take. He was used to crazy fits, having to deal with Drusilla’s visions for over a century. He sprung into action and took hold of her shoulders from behind.

“Buffy,” he said soothingly.

She stilled. She slumped, seemingly confident that he would keep her from meeting the floor. “I can’t breathe,” she gasped. “I can’t breathe.”

“Shhh.” He turned her around to face him. “Don’t look at the room. Keep your eyes on me.”

She nodded.

Taking her hands, he guided her over to the bed. He gently helped her down on the mattress. Her eyes darted wildly around in the dark. He grabbed her head and pointed it at him again.

“No, keep your gaze on me. Let the room fade away. There’s only me.”

The panic attack continued. She gripped his hands, taking in air much too quickly.

“Come on, slayer, you can do it.” He took in a long, slow, gulp of air in exaggeration. “Watch me.” He repeated it.

Buffy’s breathing gradually came back to normal. She kept her eyes on him until they began to droop. She drifted off, her hand still in his. He frowned at their linked skin and pried what was his away. He was about to head over to his half of the room but halted in his tracks. He stretched out on the hard surface next to where Buffy snored.

24 days ago

The day began as usual. Boring. The woosh of the mechanical door opening caught them both off-guard. They stood next to each other to confront the visitor.

A vamp entered. He didn’t wear blue like the rest, but instead red. He held an intimidating gun pointed right at them.

“I’m here for the girl,” he stated.

“Like hell you are!” Spike growled.

The vamp hefted the gun higher. “Do you know what this is?”

“A GI Joe toy? But that’s just a guess,” Buffy said.

The vampire spared Buffy a blank look. “It’ll leave you paralyzed for days. So I suggest you cooperate.”

Spike was ready to rush in anyways. Buffy held him back with an arm. He struggled against the blockade but she held firm. He pondered how weak he was if her deflation seemed like super-powers to him. She shook her head.

“Don’t, Spike.”

“But, Buffy . . .”

She met his eyes. “I’ll be back,” she promised.

She left. The door shut and he came to accept that he’d miss her if she turned out to be wrong. Not that he’d choose her company if they were out of here. No. But she was all he had in here.

He passed the time by pacing.

When Buffy did return he was too relieved to ask questions. He came put an arm around her, but realized what he was doing and quickly retracted it. She didn’t seem to notice. She stood there with an eerie, dreamy grin that was too large for her face.

“I got to see her,” Buffy said.

“Got to see who?”

“The baby. It’s a girl, by the way. It is too early to tell by machines, but Willow told me before I left.” A single tear escaped her eye. He didn’t get how women could smile and yet cry at the same time.

“She’s beautiful. They didn’t let me take a picture. I wish you could have seen,” she went on.

He frowned. Riley and the group hadn’t given her an ultrasound for her own benefit. They were after something, something that had to do with the baby. He didn’t have the heart to shatter Buffy’s elation. He forced a smile and listened to her babble on about the miracle growing inside her.

23 days ago

“Oh God!” Buffy exclaimed. Her eyes got really large.

“What’s wrong?” Spike didn’t understand the concern he felt. He was getting as soft as baby food. He didn’t like it.

She snatched his hand and laid it over her rounded belly. “There.”

At first he didn’t get it. Then he felt it. Something pushed up from within. The expression he showed must have been comical because Buffy giggled. She took his hand and transferred it over to the other part of her middle.

“She’s over here now.”

It happened again. He kept his hand there, waiting to feel it once more. Nothing happened.

Buffy sighed. “I guess she wore herself out. Sleepy time.”

Spike still kept his hand there. “Something’s really alive in there.”

“Well, yeah. What’d ya think, I was just getting fat?”

“No, I just-“ Spike removed his hand. He ran it through his hair. “Never felt it is all.”

“Never?” Buffy paused. “I remember when my mom was pregnant with Dawnie. She let me feel. It’s different when you are the pregnant one. There’s a whole little person inside me.”

Buffy leaned back against the pillow. She glowed. So alive, the pinnacle of thrivation. Spike blinked and couldn’t help but think of the word effulgent. He stuffed it down as soon as it emerged.

22 days ago

“What is your favorite color?” Buffy asked.

He stuffed his hands in his jeans. “What is this? Twenty questions?”

“We played that earlier, remember? No, this is just me trying to get to know you.”

“Trying to find out how different I am from the one who left you behind? That it?”

“No.”

That was the end of that.

21 days ago

They took Buffy for tests. She left willingly. Yet again Spike was left to worry in her absence.

20 days ago

“Are you at all interested in where I came from?” Buffy asked.

“I dunno. Hadn’t thought about it,” he answered.

She sat up. “Come on, you gotta be. What do you want to know?”

He leaned his head against the wall. He had the urge for a smoke.

“I don’t want to hear about the other me,” he snapped.

“Oh-kay. I’ll tell you other stuff.” She waited for an agreement. When he didn’t give it she continued. “Willow awoke all the potentials. Now there are hundreds of bitty slayers out there. Sunnydale is a giant crater after Sp- after we defeated the First. Giles is rebuilding the council. It got blown up.” She paused. “Your turn.”

“My what?”

“Your turn. Tell me about this place. How did all this happen?”

He stalked over. He dragged her up so he could stare her down.

“You wanna know what happened, slayer!? You dusted my whole reason for being. My dark princess. I wanted to hurt you as bad as you hurt me. So I vamped your captain cardboard.”

Buffy gasped. She backed away but he caught her.

“Yeah, that’s right! Is all my fault this world went all psycho! Was his bright idea to round up the minority and put them into slavery.” He yanked her arm. “So, you still wanna know my favorite color? Wanna get to know me better?”

She ripped out of his grasp. She gave him a hard look before turning away without a word.


19 days ago

The truth yesterday distanced Buffy from him. Which was good. They were becoming too comfy with each other. He couldn’t allow himself to lose himself- to become like the vampire she must have whipped and kept on a leash in her world. He was a monster, evil, and he wasn’t going to forget it.

“I’d be curled up on the couch right now with an herbal tea,” Buffy said. “Mmm, a foot massage would be nice. Of course I don’t have a guy to do it, but since it’s my fantasy, I have one. And a chicken salad. I could do with a chicken salad with Italian dressing. What would you be doing if you weren’t locked up?”

This was his chance.

“I’d be shagging one of my seven slaves right about now.” He licked his teeth. He met Buffy’s eyes, clamped his fingers over his crotch. She cringed and he smirked. “Most likely the blond. She’s a feisty one.”

Buffy crawled onto the bed. She faced the wall.

Yeah, he was the big bad.

18 days ago

Buffy was relieved when they came to take her. She had to get away from Spike. Every comment that spilled out of his mouth was a stab to enforce his vampiric nature.

They brought her to the examining room and she willingly climbed onto the table. A new nurse was there, a female. She turned on the screen and Buffy hoped they were about to perform another ultrasound. The nurse proceeded to put liquid over her bared stomach. It wasn’t the gel she remembered them using before.

“What are you putting on me?” Buffy asked.

“Antiseptic.”

“Oh. . . Why?”

The nurse turned away, ignoring her. Buffy didn’t like the feeling she was getting. She tried to crane her neck to see what the nurse was doing. The nurse turned and Buffy flinched. She held a long, thin needle.

“Ok, no!” Buffy protested. “No needles! Needles lead to badness.”

The vampire nurse took her free hand and pressed it down to keep Buffy in place. The slayer squirmed.

“Relax or we’ll have to give you anesthetic,” the nurse said. “All I’m going to do is a cordocentesis.”

“And in English that is what?” Buffy growled.

“A fetal blood sample. It won’t take long. Just lay still.”

The needle inched toward Buffy’s belly. She froze, a tear leaking from her eye.

“Are there any risks?” Buffy whispered.

There was a pause. Too long. “None.”

“Liar,” Buffy said.

But there was nothing she could do. The nurse had the complete upper-hand. She hardly breathed as the needle slid into her uterus. She watched the ultrasound screen throughout the process, begging whoever would listen to watch over her child.



17 days ago

Buffy returned in silence. She got onto the bed and snuggled under the blankets. Spike watched her for hours. She pretended to sleep, but he could sense she wasn’t. Then she began to whimper. He ignored it at first. Why should he care?

His nostrils flared. He could smell something he couldn’t recognize. He roamed around the room, trying to decipher its origin. It led him to Buffy. She looked up at him with pained eyes.

“What did they do to you?” he asked, hovering over her.

“They took a blood sample,” she said. She clutched her stomach and moaned. “It hurts. It shouldn’t hurt. Something is wrong.”

Spike remained there while she writhed as the cramps grew greater, transfixed. She was sweaty, disoriented . . . weak. Right there for the taking. His demon roared, saying ‘let me out to play’. She tossed her head to the side, exposing her delicate white throat in temptation.

‘Go on. Put her out of her misery. Slayer’s blood. It’ll make you stronger. You’ll be able to escape.’

He dove. His fangs sunk into her pulse and he gulped the blood up like a starving man given water. It burned down his throat, warming the cold tissue. It was sweet, potent, true ambrosia from the God. And there was something else. Something familiar. He halted his swallowing and pulled away, blood dripping down his chin. His tongue slid out and he slurped it up.

The Aurelius family blood had a taste. Buffy held a tinge of that flavor. He reeled backwards. She held his flesh and blood. But what did that mean?