Spike leaned back in Giles’ bathtub, the chains surrounding him digging into his ribs. In vain, he tried to focus on the blaring television in front of him and curled under his leather duster, attempting to find some comfort.

“Bugger this. Bloody Scoobies…bloody Watcher…bloody….”

Buffy burst into the bathroom, a disheveled mess. Spike smirked.

“…Slayer.”

“God! I can’t take this anymore, Spike!”

Buffy sauntered over to the small television they had to set up to keep Spike occupied, and turned the volume down.

“Oi!”

“Oh, like you really need to watch that stupid show. All they do is repeat the same lines over and over and never get any real point across. It’s a show full of filler. I don’t know how you can stand watching it.”

“Well you wouldn’t get it, would you, Slayer?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s interesting; the storylines, yeah? You wouldn’t be able to pay attention, pet, I’ve seen how fidgety you get trying to watch a movie. Just wish you could see why I enjoy it.”

A burst of smoke clouded the bathroom, and a pale blue, bearded, and four-horned demon smiled at Spike.

“Wish granted.”

Swirls of purple lights and rose petals fell around Buffy and the now unchained Spike. As they floated through the purple nothingness, Buffy frowned at Spike.

“Great. What’d you do now?”

Before he had a moment to answer, he felt the solidity of the ground as they crashed down upon it in a heap. Squinting his eyes in the brightness of the day, Spike took a moment to realize he was in direct sunlight. He screamed and hid under his duster.

“What the…bloody hell, Slayer, help me!”

She raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Correct my if I’m wrong, but you’re not on fire, Spike. Unfortunately.”

“Glad to see you’re alright too, pet.”

Looking at his hands and confirming he was indeed, fire free, Spike came back out of his duster, however cautiously. He smiled and gazed up at the bright sun. Buffy’s normally cold heart was briefly touched by his reaction to the light he hadn’t enjoyed in over a century. She looked around as Spike enjoyed his newfound freedom, surveying that they were in a small garden. It was far too chilly for her tastes.

Where the hell are we? Mmm….God Spike looks good in the sunlight. No…bad Buffy. Bad, bad…ohhhh so sexy.

Buffy smiled as he continued to languish in the sunlight. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a shrill voice from behind them.

“Ethan! What are you doing with her?”

The tall blonde woman pulled on Spike’s arm, knocking him from his contented daze. He growled at her, trying, and failing, to shift into his vampiric face. Enraged at his flaccid fangs, Spike turned his back to the woman, and grabbed Buffy’s shoulder, his eyes panicked.

“I can’t vamp out, Buffy.”

Buffy shrugged.

“Oh well. Probably stage fright. Do they make vampire Viagara?”

Spike growled at Buffy, but couldn’t help but notice that she was ogling him lustfully. He could smell the musky fragrance he had only noticed when Buffy and Angel were together, or, on occasion, when she was fighting.

Thank God I didn’t lose all my powers.

He cocked his head to the side and smiled.

“Like what you see, Slayer?”

“What in the hell is wrong with the two of you,” the blonde woman yelled. “Theresa, I told you to stay away from Ethan, and I meant it. You’ve already done quite enough to our relationship, thank you, and Ethan, you need to get your ass home with me now. And why in the hell are you wearing that stupid outfit? And why do you have that ridiculous accent? This is Harmony, Ethan, not London.”

Spike raised an eyebrow before the realization of their situation hit him. He squinted at the blonde woman and chuckled.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…its Gwen, right?”

Gwen nodded, her eyes bulging out.

“Well, yeah. Tell me she didn’t put some ‘evil bitch’ spell on you to try and get you away from me.”

Buffy frowned at Gwen and started to move toward her, intent on breaking her nose, but Spike grabbed her torso, picking her up with ease. Gwen sighed loudly and threw her hands in the air.

“I give up! Ethan, you want to be with Theresa, fine. Don’t let your fiancée stop you.”

Storming off in a huff, Gwen left a confused Buffy and an amused Spike standing in the garden, Spike’s arms still locked around Buffy’s waist. Buffy closed her eyes and breathed in his scent: a very masculine mix of leather, tobacco, and malt liquor.

God he smells good.

Realizing her arousal at Spike’s hands, an infuriated Buffy slapped his hands away and attempted to push him back. The kitten-like force she mustered to push him away caught Spike by surprise.

“Buffy, you alright?”

“I feel okay…except for your arm grease still all over me. Why?”

“Well, because you push like a girl.”

She frowned and punched him in the stomach with all of her might. She gasped when she realized the act hurt her far worse than it hurt Spike.

“Oh my God, Spike…what happened to us? You’re impotent and I’m….”

“Going through Slayer menopause?”

Buffy tried to frown again, but her frightened expression shone through instead, and Spike sighed.

“Buffy, love, ‘m sorry.”

“Yeah, right.”

“No, I mean it. Not right for me to pick on you, sorry, pet.”

“Thanks…but I’m not your ‘pet’.”

“Sorry. Habit.”

“Right. Well, where are we? You seemed to know that skanky blonde pretty well.”

“Are you jealous, Buffy?”

“Jealous of what, pray tell?”

“That the bird thinks she’s got her claws in all of this?”

Spike took a step back and, with a dramatic flourish, posed in front of Buffy, who finally broke into a legitimate smile.

“Yeah, but she keeps calling you ‘Eddie’ or ‘Elvis’ or something, so chances are, she doesn’t really see you the way you really are.”

“It’s Ethan, pet.”

She frowned, and Spike rolled his eyes with a grin.

“Told you. Habit. Better get used to it. Oh, and you might want to get used to being called ‘Theresa.’”

“And why’s that?”

“Well, that’s what the bird was calling you, and I think I’ve figured out why, we’ve just got to find the only two people who can help us here.”

An attractive, middle-aged woman, dressed in an expensive pantsuit followed a handsome police officer with dark hair and chiseled features into the garden.

“Sam, please, just talk to me! I wanted to tell you all these years, I just…I couldn’t…I….”

“Ivy, please, just stop it! I don’t want anything to do with you. You lied to me about my son…about our son! I can never forgive you for that.”

Buffy smacked at Spike, who was intently staring at the couple.

“It’s rude to stare, Spike.”

“Oh come on, they don’t notice us, pet. Not yet anyway. You ready now? Watch this. Three…two…one….”

Just as Spike predicted, Ivy and Sam’s attention turned to Spike and Buffy. Spike smiled.

“Told you, pet.”

Ivy frowned at Buffy.

“Theresa,” she spit as if the name were acid, “why are you still following my son around? Haven’t you done enough to him already? What with marrying Julian and all that nonsense?”

Buffy scowled back at Ivy.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you’re talking to, lady, but I think someone needs to teach you some manners….”

Spike grabbed Buffy in a split second, and pressed a wet kiss on her lips. Only after Spike’s tongue slipped past her lips, causing her to moan, did Buffy realize what she was doing. Trying to push him away and failing, Buffy resigned herself into the kiss. That was, of course, until Spike caressed her read end with a groping hand. Her only defense left clamped down on Spike’s bottom lip. A few drops of his blood lay on her lips as he pulled back, which she quickly licked off, instantly aroused by its taste.

“Oi! No biting, Slayer!”

Ivy stared at Spike in confusion.

“Ethan, dear, why are you talking like that? Did the little tamale do something to you?”

Spike held a finger up to his mouth and looked at Buffy, then turned to Ivy.

“Mother, you need to get off my back, yeah? Give me some space. ‘m a grown man and will shag whomever I please.”

“Oh, we are so not ‘shagging,’ Mister,” Buffy said, unconvincingly.

“Hush, pet.”

Ivy’s jaw dropped and she could only muster a small gasp. Spike grabbed Buffy’s hand and headed off toward a small cluster of homes.

“C’mon, Theresa. We have someone we need to talk to.”

--

Standing with Spike outside of a small colonial home, Buffy looked around in confusion.

“How did you know where to go? Spike, where are we?”

“Buffy, pet, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“Well, this is Tabitha’s house,” he said, pointing at the home before them.

“And Tabitha is…?”

He sighed.

“You know ‘Passions,’ that soap opera you’ve been ragging on me for watching?”

“Yeah,” Buffy’s eyes flashed with realization at what Spike was implying, “oh you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“That fella in the Watcher’s bathroom was a Vengeance Demon, I think. Remember I said, ‘I wish you could see why I watch ‘Passions,’? He must’ve sent us here.”

“So there’s a Vengeance Demon strictly for television wishes?”

“Apparently so.”

“Funny that Anya never mentioned that little gem.”

“We seem to have all the luck in the world together, Slayer.”

“So, how do we get home?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out, love.”

Buffy was too confused to frown at Spike again, who was knocking frantically on the red door. An older woman, with a great deal of dark blonde curls and bright eyes that spoke volumes, answered the door. She seemed less than thrilled to see them, but forced a smile none-the-less.

“Ethan…Theresa. What a nice surprise.”

“Tabitha,” Spike said, “we need your help. I really need to speak with you….”

“Go ahead, Ethan.”

“You didn’t let me finish…I need to speak with you and Timmy.”

Tabitha blinked away her confusion, before stepping to the side of her door.

“Well, then, come in.”

Explaining their plight to Tabitha took less time than Buffy would have imagined. Tabitha nodded and rose from the stiff chair she sat on in her kitchen.

“Timmy! Come down here! I need your help, dear.”

A red-headed child-sized figure came down the stairs. Buffy looked at him nervously.

“So, how’s a little kid going to help us, Spike?”

The figure piped up.

“Timmy is not a child, dummy. Timmy’s a living doll. Get with the program already.”

Spike chuckled and knelt down in front of Timmy.

“Buffy and I need your help, lad. We’re from another dimension…one where your life is my favorite soap opera. I’m Spike; I’m a vampire, and Buffy’s the Slayer. But we were sent here by a demon into Ethan and Theresa’s bodies, so you don’t see what we really look like.”

“Timmy knows what you look like, Spike.”

Spike cocked his head to the side.

“What do you mean?”

“Timmy watches you on television too.”

“Right…that’s…odd. Anyway, would you help us figure out how we can get home?”

Timmy nodded and looked at Tabitha.

“Sure. But Tabby, if they’re here, where are the real Ethan and Theresa?”

Tabitha’s eyes grew wide as she waved the group over to the television.

“Oh, Hell’s Bells!”

--

Ethan shrieked in front of the empty mirror he stared into in Giles’ bathroom, where he and Theresa had woken up an hour earlier. Theresa had helped him to get out of the tub, and freed him from the chains, surprising herself with her newfound power. A panicked expression crossed Ethan’s face, though he couldn’t see it if he tried.

“Theresa, what’s wrong with this mirror?”

Theresa shook her head in awe at her own blonde reflection.

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”

--

A batch of Martimmis* and a few spells later, Buffy and Spike still sat with Timmy and Tabitha in the colonial home. Buffy sighed.

“So, all we’ve done is figure out that there’s a tear in our dimension where we’re both an hour-long TV show for the other.”

“Yeah, pet,” Spike said, “but there’s a new ‘Passions’ every day. Apparently we don’t have enough funding to run that often.”

“Or you aren’t as interesting,” Tabitha offered, sipping her martini glass.

“Or I make a better show that people will wait to see,” Buffy said with a scowl.

Spike licked his lips and waggled his eyebrows at Buffy.

“ ‘m sure you do, pet.”

Buffy’s urge to fight the growing attraction to Spike lessened with each Martimmi she downed. She was now working on number seven.

“You know, Spike,” she slurred, “we should go and do some investing…envestssss…investigating.”

“Buffy Anne Summers, I dare say you’re sloshed on Martimmis.”

He turned with a smile to Timmy.

“They are great, lad.”

Timmy grinned mischievously.

“That’s why they named ‘em after Timmy. But there isn’t any alcohol in them.”

“Then why is she all,” Spike stood and mimicked Buffy’s staggering movements before plopping back into his seat.

“Well, Tabby does let Timmy use magic to make them…if Buffy is magical in your realm, then maybe our magic would react this way with her.”

Tabitha gasped and put her hands to her cheeks.

“Oh, Hell’s Bells! It’s a good thing there isn’t any booze in there, Tim Tim, this…Buffy girl is in Theresa’s body!”

“And?”

“Theresa’s pregnant body!”

Buffy stared at Spike and nearly fainted.

“I’m…pregnant? But…but…how…when…who,” she stammered.

Tabitha sighed.

“2 months ago on the beach with Ethan. They were supposed to get married the next morning, but Gwen broke it up. And, dear, I really shouldn’t have to explain the ‘how’ to a grown woman.”

“Gwen? I don’t like her,” Buffy slurred.

“Ah yes. Well, Theresa feels the same way, dear.”

“So,” Spike said to Tabitha, “this Ethan bloke, he’s marrying that daft bint? Thought he loved Theresa.”

“Well, he does, he does, but he doesn’t know yet that Theresa’s child is his. He thinks it’s Julian’s.”

“Julian? Who the hell? Like a salad? Oooh, I’m hungry, Spike,” Buffy said, her world spinning around.

“He thought he was Ethan’s father, before Ivy revealed that Sam was, pet, try and keep up. So, what’s the deal then…thought Ethan was breaking it off with Gwen for good.”

“Well, she has a way of…how do I put this delicately…?”

“She’s a whiny bitch?”

“Exactly.”

“Right. Well, the bird does have the right ideas for using this body, so, I s’ppose I’d better be getting home and doing my almost-husbandly duty.”

“Oh no you don’t, buster,” Buffy said, pushing a bony finger into his chest. “Tabitha, where can we stay?”

“Way ahead of you, dear,” Tabitha said as she conjured up a key. “Here, it’s a key to one of the rooms at Grace’s Bed and bloody Breakfast next door. That damned Grace and her ‘tomato soup cake’ or whatever the devil it is can rot. Wreck up the place before you leave; the boys in the basement will love it. She’s out of town, anyway, so she’ll never know what hit her when she comes back!”

Timmy smiled.

“Yeah. Meet us back here tomorrow morning. We’ll figure something out by then.

--



***Martimmis

Preparation Time: 10 Minutes
Ingredients:
3 12oz cans of lemonade, thawed/diluted
1 bottle of ginger ale
1 cup of frozen orange juice, thawed/diluted
1 quart of cranberry juice cocktail
1 orange thinly sliced into 12
Recipe:
1: Combine liquid ingredients together, mix well.
2: Serve chilled with a slice of orange.
Makes 12 servings

Buffy and Spike crept into their room in the large, and empty, Bed and Breakfast. The sign on the front door had said, in all of its crocheted glory, “Out For The Weekend, Please Call Again!” They tried to be quiet, regardless of the unoccupied area. Spike stared at Buffy as she plopped down on the bed and kicked off her shoes. He cautiously sat down next to her and placed his dirt-encrusted boots neatly next to her stiletto “bootlets.”

“Buffy, pet, we’ll find a way back. I know we will.”

“But, what if we don’t want to?”

“Well, I….”

“No. Really. Think, Spike, would that really be so bad? You get to be human again, and I can have a regular life…have a baby….”

“Yeah, but someone already did the ‘fun part’ of that for you, love.”

“Right…but, still…I can have everything I always wanted…sans vampires, sans Angel, sans everything…everything but you.”

Buffy crawled closer to Spike on the bed. He cleared his throat nervously.

“Yeah, but if we stay here, you can’t go through on your threats to stake me. Y’know, pet, there’ll be hell to pay if you kill me here; all blood and no dust, yeah?”

She rolled her eyes and straddled Spike on the bed, her breasts barely touching his chest. Opening his warm, soft lips with hers, Buffy moaned softly. Spike pulled away after a moment’s bliss in the kiss, his eyes questioning her.

“Slayer, what do you think you’re doing?”

“You know what I realized, Spike? You’re the only constant in my life. No matter what you promised, you followed through…except, you know, the whole ‘I’ll kill you and dance in your blood’ thing.”

Spike smirked.

“I still might, Slayer. Still the ‘Big Bad,’ you know,” he said as he trailed his finger from her shoulder to her elbow, flicking her bra strap so it hung loosely on her arm.

“Spike…I….”

Buffy’s voice silenced as Spike pressed his lips onto hers; his tongue slipped into her hot mouth, and its unnatural warmth struck Buffy. Still straddling him, Buffy grinded into his hardening lap. A remainder of Spike’s animalistic vampire tendencies washed over him, and with a growl, he flipped Buffy over onto the bed. After quickly pulling off his pants, Spike began to remove his duster, but Buffy grabbed his arm.

“No, leave it on.”

Spike smiled as he removed his duster, stripped off his shirt, and put his duster back on. Buffy wriggled free of her tight red tank top and jeans on the bed, leaving herself in only a pair of lacy black boyshorts and a black bra. Spike sighed as he eyed her up and down.

“You’re immaculate, Slayer.”

Buffy’s eyes widened as she stared at his long, pulsing member and rock-hard stomach.

“Wow…so are you.”

Spike grinned as he climbed on top of her. Showering her with quick kisses on her breasts, chest, and face, Spike opened up her wet sex with his nimble fingers. Buffy moaned as he stroked inside of her and her own hands traveled down to her clit. After a moment a small burst of warm fluids covered Spike’s fingers and she bit down on her lip in ecstasy. His primal instincts now too throbbingly apparent to ignore, Spike thrust his cock into Buffy’s sopping folds. She moaned as he widened her, and came again with a short gasp. Spike’s own orgasm came shortly after Buffy’s, and he fell to her side, exhausted.

“Well, pet, I guess there are severe disadvantages to being human.”

Buffy cocked her head to the side.

“What do you mean? I’ve never…it was the most intense…uh…it was good! Great, even. The best I’ve ever….”

“It’d be better, Slayer. I’m not used to being all…warm-blooded.”

“I like you both ways,” she said, snuggling up to him and closing her eyes. “Does that mean I’m bi-bloodual?”

Spike chuckled softly before planting a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

“G’night, pet.”

“Goodnight, Spike.”

“Buffy?”

“Yeah?”

“You like me.”

“Shut up or I’ll stake you.”

“Not a vampire anymore, love.”

“I’ll bet it still smarts, though.”

Spike contemplated the image for a moment before closing his eyes and nestling close to Buffy.

“Right. G’night, Slayer.”

--

Theresa cowered in the corner of Giles’ living room, Ethan standing above her, his face distorted in a vampiric mask.

“Theresa, what’s wrong?”

“Get away! You’re not Ethan! You’re horrible!”

Giles ran into the living room, half-asleep, roused from his sleep by “Buffy’s” petulant screams.

“Spike? How did you get out?”

He moved to grab at Ethan, who backed up and yelled.

“Hey! Get away from me you weirdo!”

“Weirdo? Spike, are you feeling quite well?”

“Who the hell is Spike? I’m Ethan Crane…or, I was,” Ethan said staring at Theresa, “until I found out that my mother is a whore and Sam Bennet is my real father.”

As his sadness became apparent, Ethan’s face slipped out of his vampiric mask. Theresa stared at him for a moment before standing up and walking over to him.

“Ethan, is that really you? What happened?”

Giles shook his head and took his glasses off with a dramatic flair.

“Oh, good Lord. Who are you?”

Theresa frowned at Giles.

“I think we’ll be asking the questions, here, pal. First off, why did you have Ethan chained up in your bathtub? And why does my reflection look like a little blonde girl?”

“And why don’t I have a reflection,” Ethan asked with a slight hitch in his breath.

“Oh, dear. You aren’t Spike or Buffy, are you?”

“No!”

“Right. I think I need to call Willow.”

“A tree? What kind of place is this,” Theresa said, rolling her eyes.

“No…she’s a witch, and she’s probably behind this whole debacle.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow.

“A witch? There’s no such thing as witches, buddy, I hate to break it to you.”

“Oh, just shut up, Spike…or Elvis, or whoever the devil you are. Go eat something…keep yourselves occupied. But don’t go outside,” Giles said, pointing at Ethan.

“And why not? You can’t keep us here,” Ethan said.

“Because Spike, whose body you seem to have invaded, is a vampire…and if you go out in the sun, you’ll burst into flames and Spike will be no more. On second thought, please, go outside.”

Ethan and Theresa frowned at Giles before walking into the kitchen. Ethan grabbed a box of Weetabix, enthused.

“Oooh! Weetabix! They’re my…hey, guy, we’re out of Weetabix!”

“We are out of Weetabix because you...because Spike ate it all. Again,” Giles called from the living room. “Now, please be quiet while I’m on the phone…bloody Americans.”

--

Buffy awoke, curled in Spike’s arms, to the sound of loud pounding on their door. Before she could sit up, Spike was standing and peering out of the spy hole. He sighed and turned to Buffy.

“It’s Gwen. How the bloody hell….”

To her amazement, Spike opened the door, growling deep within his throat.

“What?”

Gwen was taken aback by his bluntness, but quickly regained herself.

“Ethan! What in the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

Spike looked over his shoulder at Buffy, who was still lounging, fully nude, on the bed. He winked at her, and then turned around to Gwen.

“What the sodding hell do you think we were doing? Playing canasta?”

Gwen huffed and rolled her eyes.

“I swear to God, Ethan, I can’t believe you’d do this to me! Especially after what she did to you!”

“And what, pray tell, did she do to me?”

“Well, for starters, she leaked the information about your paternity to the tabloids….”

“Oh, get off it, sweetheart, I know you and your bloody mother sent that in. I do watch the s…I watch things.”

Buffy couldn’t help but chuckle at the exasperated expression that crossed Gwen’s face. She was flummoxed to say the least, her eyes bulging out, and a painfully quizzical mask replacing her normally stoic, yet beautiful, face. Gwen closed her agape mouth after a moment, and straightened her blouse absentmindedly.

“Well then, Ethan, I guess I don’t have anything left to say.”

“Yeah, I s’ppose you don’t.”

“Ethan…I’m….”

“Don’t,” Spike said, dramatically covering his eyes with his arm, “You broke my sodding heart, woman…just…go!”

As Gwen walked away, Spike shut the door and turned to Buffy, who was enthusiastically applauding him, with a wide grin.

“Well, now that we’ve gotten that little unpleasantry out of the way, what, oh what, can we do next?”

Buffy rolled her eyes, climbed out of the bed, and walked into the adjoining bathroom.

“Oh, yeah, in your dreams, Spike. We have other things we need to focus on right now.”

Spike followed her into the bathroom when he heard her break out in peals of laughter.

“What’s so funny, pet?”

Buffy smiled broadly as she held up a pair of wrapped toothbrushes that had been lain across the counter in a miniature, knitted hammock, hung so that it sagged slightly over the sink. Spike’s eyes bulged out and he shook his head, slowly.

“This woman is a loon.”

Buffy nodded and handed one toothbrush to Spike, while she squeezed a blue line of toothpaste onto hers, and began to brush her teeth. Spike followed suit, turning on the shower as he brushed. After rinsing their mouths, Spike waggled his eyebrows at Buffy, and gestured over to the steamy shower.

“C’mon, Slayer, you’re still covered in me. Don’t you think we should pop in there and get you cleaned up?”

“Right, shower together so I can have you all over me again?”

A flash of worry passed through Spike’s mind as Buffy spoke, but it was eradicated when the sheet she had draped around herself fell to the floor. She winked as he gawked at her body.

“Race you in there?”

Climbing into the large shower, Spike stared at Buffy’s taut form, still entranced by her beauty. As the water fell over her body, Spike pulled her close to him and kissed her gently. When he pulled back, Buffy let out a small whimper.

“What’s the matter,” she asked.

Blinking the beads of water from his eyes, Spike captured Buffy’s gaze.

“Slayer…Buffy…pet…I…I want you to know something, and you don’t have to repeat….”

“I know, Spike.”

“You what?”

“That you love me.”

“What are you talking about you daft bint? I was going to say that I like the Outback Steakhouse…and was wondering if you’d join me there for a Bloomin’ Onion.”

“Yeah, right. You love me, don’t you?”

“Well, I’m not going to say it now, you ruined my big moment.”

“No, I’m sorry…go ahead.”

“Nope. Moment’s gone. Ruined now.”

Buffy smiled and caressed his face with her damp hand.

“Spike, I don’t know if I love you yet…I could…I…I like you…a lot. And I enjoy being around you…and I trust you…with everything.”

Spike nodded.

“And you want me.”

“Well, yeah, that too. A girl’d have to be crazy not to want you.”

“Even the crazy ones want me, pet.”

“I guess. Just…just promise me something?”

“Anything, pet.”

“Be patient with me about this whole thing…I…after the whole ‘Angel’ thing, I feel….”

“Vulnerable?”

“Yeah, that about sums it up.”

“Know what you mean, pet. Felt the same way every time Dru left me.”

“If I love you, I want it to be because I want to…not because I feel like I’m supposed to.”

“I’d wait forever for you, Slayer.”

“Well, you have forever…I have a good 40 years, tops.”

“Don’t say that, pet. You’ll outlive us all, I’m sure.”

Appreciative of the patience that Spike gave her, and finally noticing that his member was at attention, Buffy knelt on the shower’s floor in front of him. Spike looked down at her, in awe, as she took him fully into her mouth, massaging his balls, and lapping at his tip with end of every stroke. When he began to feel his balls tense, Spike pulled her to her feet and propped her up so she was leaning against the wall with her back towards him. Sensing she was already ready for him, Spike thrust into Buffy’s tight cavern, her warmth causing lapses of thought within him. Pumping in and out of her feverishly, he found his release as Buffy hit her own peak. Resting against each other, out of breath, they entwined their fingers in a loving grip, staring into each other’s eyes until the water began to run cold. Quickly washing off, Buffy and Spike grabbed fluffy white towels and wrapped them around themselves before they relaxed in each other’s arms on their trusseled bed. Spike smiled at Buffy as her eyes began to flutter shut.

“Can’t sleep just yet, Slayer, we have to go see the witch and the doll.”

Buffy’s practiced pout weakened Spike’s walls slightly.

“Alright…you sodding princess. Twenty minutes. That’s all of a nap you get.”

Buffy ginned as she snuggled closer into Spike’s arms and drifted off into a cat nap.

Tabitha stood hovering over a large pot when Spike and Buffy entered her kitchen.

“Hello, dears, I was just going to ring you over at that wretched bed and breakfast. How was your stay?”

Buffy stole a glance at Spike, who winked at her, before shaking her head at Tabitha.

“Is this Grace woman mentally stable? She had a toothbrush hammock in the bathroom….”

Tabitha rolled her eyes.

“That doesn’t surprise me in the least. She’s always popping over here with her bloody tomato soup cake…horrifying thing, that. Blast that interfering next-door neighbor of mine, Grace Bennett! Oh…oh, but I digress…Timmy! Come down here! Buffy and Spike are here! We have to tell them the good news!”

Buffy sighed in relief as Spike wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Good news! Oh…that’s good. Wonderful. Better than that….”

“I think we got the point, Slayer.”

“Right, well, anyway…good news is good.”

Timmy bounded down the stairs, smiling widely at Buffy and Spike when he reached the kitchen.

“Hi! Tabby and Timmy have good news about sending you home!”

Tabitha nodded, waving a hand over the large bowl and motioning for the group to peer into it.

“Now, if I can just get a few more ingredients, I think that everything should be in order. I found this spell,” she said, pointing to an open page in a large tome sitting on the counter, “and I believe it should work to send you home. It’s very old, though, so I think I may have to spruce it up a bit. Oh, the old spells were the good spells, Tim-Tim. The language is really quite beautiful: ‘May Beelzebub's drool seal your eyelids shut.’ Ha! They don't write them like that any more, Timmy!”

Grinning, Timmy stared up at Tabitha.

“Does Tabby want Timmy to go and get the things that she needs?”

Tabitha smiled as she patted him on the back.

“No, Timmy, dear, I don’t think that the blasted fools in Harmony would take too kindly to seeing a living doll walk down to the corner store.”

Spike raised his arm, much to Buffy’s surprise.

“We’ll go. Could use the fresh air…been cooped up too long with the bloody Slayer, if I don’t get out I might go crazy…start knitting little hammocks for kitchen utensils.”

“Right, off we go,” Buffy said, pushing him towards the door. “What all do you need, Tabitha?”

After quickly jotting down a list that included fresh maggots, celery, and rose petals, and handing it to Buffy with a handful of cash, Tabitha smiled when she was met with a quizzical expression.

“Bait shop, dear. Right in town…they always have the freshest maggots.”

“Of course,” Buffy said, her eyes bulging out, slightly. “Be back in a bit!”

As Buffy and Spike headed towards Harmony’s bustling town, Timmy sat down next to Tabitha at the kitchen table.

“Tabby, what if they run into someone in town, like Julian or Rebecca or…Gwen?”

“I don’t think they’ll have any more problems with Gwen, Tim-Tim. Do you want to see what they did to her this morning?”

Timmy nodded feverishly, to Tabitha’s amusement. Standing again over the large bowl, Tabitha moved her hands over the watery substance in sweeping motions before the image of Buffy and Spike’s encounter with Gwen appeared. Tabitha and Timmy laughed heartily at Spike’s dramatic dismissal of Ethan’s former fiancée, but, Tabitha quickly shielded Timmy’s eyes as the mini-movie in the bowl moved into the bathroom.

“Well, that’s enough of that. We both don’t need to be scarred for life, now, do we Tim-Tim?”

“Timmy’s Princess is right…but Tabby, when the real Ethan and Theresa get back, what are they going to say to Gwen?”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll all have some choice words for each other, dear. But we just have to sit back and enjoy the mayhem.”

--

Willow, Xander, and Giles sat on the Watcher’s couch, staring blankly at the small blonde before them. Xander scowled at flailed his hands in the air.

“So this isn’t Buffy?”

“For the fifteenth time, Xander, no, this isn’t Buffy,” Giles said with a groan, his face buried in his hands.

“And for the first time, it isn’t my fault! I’m so happy I could scream…but I won’t,” Willow said with a nervous smile.

“Yes, Willow, we’re all very glad you succeeded in…not failing…but that’s besides the point,” Giles said, “we have to send this girl and whomever is inhabiting Spike’s body back from whence they came.”

It was Theresa’s turn to scowl, though, she could sense that her host’s mouth pouted in a more distinct manner than she was used to.

“We have names, you know. I’m Theresa…and the man you decided to lock up in the bathtub is Ethan.”

Giles blushed slightly when all eyes turned to him.

“Well, he doesn’t know how to control Spike’s demon, and…well, I’m bloody sick of everyone around here stomping about and yelling and screaming and…and eating my Weetabix. It’s…it’s bloody awful.”

With a short salutation, Anya burst into Giles’ home, and onto the couch, sandwiching herself between Willow and Xander.

“So, why did you guys call me to come over here? And, don’t you answer, honey, I know why you want me to come over… after all, all you care about is lots of orgasms.”

Theresa’s eyes bulged out and she walked towards the bathroom.

“You people are insane. I’m getting Ethan, and we’re leaving. This is all too much.”

As Theresa walked out of the room, Anya turned to Xander, cocking her head slightly.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“Just…you just come on a bit too strong with the whole ‘orgasm’ thing, honey. Not everyone wants to hear that before they’re introduced.”

“That wasn’t Buffy?”

“No…doppelganger or something.”

“Ohh…she’s a prude doppelganger, then?”

“Sure.”

“I am not a doppelganger or a prude,” Theresa called from the hallway.

“But she does have Buffy’s impeccable hearing abilities,” Giles said.

The group sat in silence aside from the metallic clanks coming from the bathroom. When the clanks ceased and moaning began, Anya piped up.

“Good! She isn’t a prude! I’m proud she’s getting her orgasms in, it’s very healthy to have one on at least a daily basis. So, who is she anyway?”

Giles sighed.

“Well, from what I can understand, her name is Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald, and his name is Ethan Crane or Window or something along those lines, and they reside in a town called Harmony, which, I can’t seem to find anywhere.”

“Of course not, silly,” Anya said, curling her legs around Xander, “if that’s really who they are, they’re from ‘Passions’.”

With all of the meticulous cleaning he was being forced to do to his glasses these days, Giles was going to need another pair in a very short period of time.

“Passions?”

“Yeah, the soap opera. It’s Spike’s favorite; he talks about it all the time. Wait, what was the last thing you remember the ‘real’ Buffy doing before she went all wiggy?”

Giles tapped the arm of his glasses to his teeth, deep in thought.

“Well, I was trying to read a book, and Buffy was studying for some exam, but we kept being interrupted because of the blaring television that Spike was watching.”

Anya smiled and sighed in relief.

“I knew this reeked of D’Hoffryn.”

“Pardon?”

“D’Hoffryn…old boss from my Vengeance Demoning days…he usually just keeps to the office to do paper work, but he does tend to grant wishes that involve television. It has to be D’Hoffryn…he’s done this before. The worst was this one time, back in the eighties, he sent this wannabe socialite into ‘Dynasty,’ and oh! You should have seen how she came back! Some of those claw marks never healed properly….”

“Anya, please,” Giles shouted. “You can find this D’Hoffryn and undo the spell, then?”

She shook her head.

“No, not really…Buffy and Spike are in another realm…they’ll have to find some way to transport themselves back here, but to get the switch to work, we’ll have to have D’Hoffryn on stand-by to make sure they get back into their proper bodies.”

Willow began to tear up at the thought of never seeing her friend again.

“So, unless they can find a witch, Buffy will never get home?”

“Yep. But I wouldn’t worry about it, Harmony’s chock full of the supernatural.”

Ethan and Theresa sheepishly came out into the living room, hair akimbo. Glancing down at her feet, Theresa cleared her throat.

“Um…Giles, isn’t it? We…uh…we need….”

“What is it,” Giles asked.

“I feel like I’m going to pass out,” Ethan said with a sigh.

“Well that’s because you didn’t take my advice and drink the mug.”

“It was full of blood!”

“Of course it was, you’re…Spike is a vampire, and you’re in his body…you’ll both get sick if you don’t drink up. Think of it as a sign of your machismo…you can pretend you’re in Cambodia,” Giles said, handing over the Kiss the Librarian mug to Ethan.

“Thanks a lot,” Ethan said as he cautiously sniffed at the blood.

Overcome by Spike’s demonic hunger, Ethan downed the blood in one fell swoop. Full of newfound energy, Ethan grabbed Theresa and attempted to pull her into a kiss. She punched his nose, surprised at how far he flew across the room.

“Sorry! But…Ethan…ew. Not kissing you with ‘bloody mouth.’ Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Theresa and Ethan walked hand-in-hand back into the bathroom. When muffled moans were heard through Giles’ paper-thin walls, the remaining group stood and walked towards the front door. Giles sighed as they walked out.

“Dinner is on me tonight. I believe we all deserve it after this…travesty.”

--

Harmony was bustling in the early afternoon, and Spike noticed Buffy’s excited reaction to the hubbub. Grabbing his hand as they pushed through the sea of people, Buffy walked toward a small flower shop. Spike rolled his eyes when he saw the girlish sparkle in her eyes.

“Do I really have to go in there with you, pet?”

Buffy stuck her bottom lip out in a full pout, causing Spike to sneer playfully back at her.

“Oh, look at that lip! Gonna get it…gonna get it….”

Caught up in their passionate kiss, Buffy and Spike were oblivious to the figures that stood gawking at them on the street.

“Ethan! What in God’s name do you think you’re doing with my wife? Get off of her,” a smarmy older man’s voice said.

Breaking their embrace, Buffy and Spike stared angrily at the growing group that was clustering around them. Spike’s eyes glanced from person to person, and then back to Buffy.

“Love, I think we should just finish up our business and head back.”

“You, know, we wouldn’t have this problem if you had just started watching ‘Port Charles’ instead…at least they have vampires.”

“How…Buffy, pet…are you a closet soap watcher?”

Before Buffy could respond, the smarmy older man grabbed her wrist and pulled her to himself. Spike’s nostrils flared in his rage, and he leapt at the man, knocking him onto the ground. Buffy could have sworn she saw a brief glimmer of yellow in Spikes’ eyes as he tackled the man, but decided not to mention it. Standing back up, Spike grabbed Buffy’s hand, seemingly checking her arm for any indication that she was injured.

“You alright, love?”

When Buffy nodded, he turned back to the man he had knocked to the ground.

“You will stay away from her, Julian. Don’t care if you are a sodding Crane, Theresa doesn’t want you, she never did, and you bloody well better give her an annulment or I’ll rip your throat out.”

An attractive black woman clothed in a doctor’s coat helped Julian up, all the while staring at Spike.

“Ethan! What has gotten into you?”

“Just seeing how things really are for once, Eve. And I’m bloody sick of my usual namby-pamby boo-hooing.”

Straightening his suit coat, Julian scowled at Spike and Buffy.

“And what about Gwen, hmm? Just leaving your intended for my…” he trailed off when Spike growled at him, “with uh, Theresa?”

“Gave Gwen her walking papers this morning, which is what I’ll be needing from you right off.”

“But the little tamale is carrying my child…I think I still have some right to….”

“Nope. Not yours, mate. The little nibblet growing in her is all mine, so you can just sod off.”

A tall, voluptuous blonde woman shook her head at Spike.

“Ethan…the accent…attacking Julian…this isn’t like you…are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“Fine, Sheridan. Better than ever, actually. Finally made the right choice, didn’t I, pet?”

Buffy smiled and nodded when Spike turned to her. He pecked her on the cheek before turning his attention back to the confused group.

“Thought so. At any rate, that daft cow is the reason that my paternity information was leaked to the tabloids…her and that confounded whore of a mother she has.”

Julian’s eyes squinted at Spike.

“Becky did this?”

“Yeah, mate, ‘fraid so. And Sheridan, that Beth character is a sodding loon. Someone should kill her off before she steals an infant or something. Eve, you bloody well know that you’re still in love with this wonderful specimen of a man,” he said, pointing at Julian, “and you’re obviously in love with her, Julian, so quit your flitting around and get rid of your spouses so you can get together already. Lord knows someone deserves a bit of happiness around here.”

Spike grinned at the group’s stunned expressions and grabbed Buffy’s hand, turning again to the flower shop.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have some shopping that we really need to finish.”

--


Tabitha sighed and shook her head as she covered up the divining bowl in her kitchen with a sheet.

“Oh, hell's bells, what are those two doing? Those secrets have been brewing for ages and in one fell swoop, he botches all of my work! And that damned Grace is on her way home...I'm sure she'll decide that I've gone far too long without having one of her infernal tomato soup cakes...Lucy Ricardo caused less havoc when she was smuggling cheese back from Europe than that damned Grace Bennet does. And it's never for the side of evil, oh no, she always seems to muddle up my plans for mayhem and destruction by popping over...oh, Timmy, this is all too much for me. Would you be a dear and fetch me a fresh Martimmi?”

Timmy stared up at her as she wrung her hands in frustration. Grabbing the shaker off of the counter, he mixed a quick batch of his classic drink and strained it into a glass for Tabitha.

“What’s the matter, Tabby? Timmy knows that it has to be more than a few secrets coming out early.”

“It is Timmy…I’m afraid that unless we can get some connection with that other dimension, something might go wrong when we send Buffy and Spike back.”

“What does Timmy’s Princess mean?”

“That’s the rub, Tim-Tim," she said, sipping the Martimmi in her hand, "I’m not quite sure what may happen.”


--



**Note, after reading some of the comments (especially after I posted the Martimmi recipe), I decided to clue you all in on what Tabitha loathes so very much.

Grace’s Infernal Tomato Soup Cake

Ingredients:
· 2 cups flour
· 1 cups sugar
· 4 teaspoons baking powder
· 1 teaspoon baking soda
· 1 teaspoons allspice
· 1 teaspoon cinnamon
· 1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
· 1 can (10 oz) condensed tomato soup
· 1/2 cup butter
· 2 eggs
· 1/4 cup milk
· Pinch of nutmeg
· Pinch of salt
Preheat oven to 350. Grease and flour two 8-inch round cake pans. Measure dry ingredients into large bowl. Add soup and butter and beat at low speed for 2 minutes. Add eggs and milk. Beat until well blended, scraping sides of the bowl as needed. Pour into pans and bake 35-40 minutes. Let stand in pans 10 minutes then turn out onto rack to cool. Frost with cream cheese frosting.

Ethan and Theresa stretched out on Giles’ couch, resting comfortably in the empty home after their hours long sexcapade. Giles and the rest of the Scoobies hadn’t returned, the Watcher deciding that he needed to spend the remainder of the evening in one of Sunnydale’s many dive bars. Shifting in irritation on the couch, Theresa reached underneath her back and pulled out a small, delicate book. Her eyes sparkled as she read the title aloud to Ethan.

“Oooh…‘Vampyre Mating Rituals.’ They spelled it funny, but it sure sounds fun, doesn’t it Ethan? As long as you’re in the vampire’s body, maybe we can….”

“Sounds good to me, Theresa! God, I’ve missed you. I love you so much, you know. I never stopped.”

“I’m so glad to hear you say that, Ethan. I love you too…fate kept us together even when we switched dimensions, so that has to mean that we’re soul mates.”

“I think it does, honey.”

Theresa sat up, crossed her legs, and began perusing through the small book. Her hands stopped when she came to a page entitled, “Claiming: Marriage and the Modern Vampyre.”

“Ethan, I think this is what we need to do! I know we can’t get married really here…wherever here is, but this ‘claiming’ thing? It sounds pretty nifty…and hey, maybe some of the perks of it will carry back with us to Harmony!”

Ethan smiled as he looked over the page dictating the steps of the claim, and the traits that it bestowed on the individuals involved.

A Vampyre may claim a mate from any race: demon, human, or otherwise defined. The basic premise of this ritual involves both parties biting the other, and chanting “Mine,” after the bite. The ritual must be consummated with sexual activity to be completed. This claim causes both individuals to cease their singular outlook both externally and internally, and they are ‘married’ in the truest sense of the word. At the moment of the claim’s consummation, the two are mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually combined for eternity; which results in the ability to speak telepathically to one another, to feel each other’s emotions, and, in the case of a mortal mate, results in the immortality of said mortal, and the immediate ensoulation of the vampire. The Council has noticed a distinct decline in the amount of claims that the vampyre population has made since the last recording in 1895. As of this date, March 19, 1926, fewer than one hundred claimed pairs are in existence, possibly due to the fact that the mental invasion is too much for many individuals to endure for a lifetime. Because of their lack of souls, it is believed that vampyres are unable to love, although the case of William the Bloody (also known by the pseudonym ‘Spike’) and his cohort Drusilla, the Mad, provides some speculation on this topic.

Staring at Theresa after finishing the page, Ethan placed the book down on Giles’ small table. He took her hands in his own, desperately searching her eyes for her assent.

“Theresa, I think this might have more implications than we’re thinking of right now…I don’t know if it’s right….”

Theresa’s eyes sparkled as she smiled at Ethan.

“Ethan, it’s the right thing to do…we’re soul mates, you know? This just proves to everyone in this world that we realize it. I want this…if we can’t be together in Harmony, then we can be together here. Just you, me and our little baby….”

“Theresa…you’re having Julian’s baby, not mine….”

“The baby isn’t Julian’s, Ethan…he’s yours.”

Ethan grasped Theresa in his arms, his passion and Spike’s demon taking over his cognitive thought capabilities. Vamping out, Ethan bit into Theresa’s throat, drawing a few gulps of blood before pulling back gently and staring at her.

“Mine!”

Theresa nodded and bit into Ethan’s neck, drawing a slight stream of blood into her mouth. After one swallow, she pulled back and smiled at her new mate.

“Mine!”

A sudden surge of power shot through both of their bodies, blinding them for a moment. When their senses returned, Ethan pounced on top of Theresa, tore off his jeans and slipped into her wet folds.

“I love you, Theresa…always…my mate…”

“I love you too, Ethan!”

--

As Buffy and Spike walked into Tabitha’s kitchen, bags of groceries in tow, they were suddenly hit with an enormous surge of power. A strange mist hung around their necks momentarily, and when it dissipated, Buffy and Spike gasped. Staring at each other, they realized that sole bite marks graced their necks, each in the shape of one another’s mouths. Buffy’s eyes grew wide in amazement.

“Spike…you…did I bite you or something?”

“No, pet…and I know I didn’t bite you…oi! Angel’s sodding bite mark is gone from your neck! It’s just…mine….”

“Mine is the only one on your neck too…oh God, Spike, what does this mean?”

“I don’t know, pet, but I can’t imagine it’s good. I think we really have to get home now.”

Tabitha and Timmy walked into the kitchen from their living room, distraught looks plastered on both of their faces. Timmy sighed when he looked at Buffy and Spike.

“Ohhh boy. Does Timmy have news for Buffy and Spike.”

Spike knelt down so he was at eye-level with Timmy.

“What’s wrong, lad? Does it have something to do with us suddenly getting each other’s mark?”

“I’m afraid so,” Tabitha cut in, “Do either of you know what ‘claiming’ is?”

Spike’s eyes grew wide with horror as he stood back up at Buffy’s side.

“Oh, no…they couldn’t…they wouldn’t…how would Ethan and Theresa even find out about…oh, bloody hell!”

“What? Tell me, Spike,” Buffy begged.

“It binds two vamps together for eternity…like marriage, only longer.”

“But I’m not a vampire…oh, no! Did that Ethan guy sire me?”

“No, pet, just one of the pair has to be a vamp to do it. There really aren’t too many vamps that do it nowadays, anyhow. Dru would never make that kind of commitment to me…it’s irreversible.”

“What happens?”

“Well, you get a mental link to your mate, you’re both immortals, and you gain the other’s powers…which I s’ppose is pretty great for the both of us, aside from the whole ‘I’ll always be inside your head’ thing.”

Buffy stood staring at Spike for a moment before kissing him, briefly.

“I don’t mind, Spike. I think we make a good pair, and if we’ve gotten through being sucked into some cheesy soap opera, I think we can make anything work.”

Touched by Buffy’s sweetness, Spike’s eyes began to tear up as he hugged her tightly to himself. Tabitha cleared her throat.

“Not to be a bother, dears, but you’ve really messed up the evil doings I’ve been planning, so I think it’s time for me to send you home.”

Tossing the rose petals, a handful of maggots, and a stalk of celery into her divining bowl, Tabitha chanted a few words while waving her hands over the top. A swirling purple portal opened up in front of them, causing Buffy to gasp. Tabitha smiled at Buffy and Spike, and Timmy them both around their legs. Spike nodded to Tabitha and Timmy.

“Thanks for all of your help. We won’t forget it.”

“Yes,” Buffy agreed, “I don’t think we would have been able to last if it wasn’t for the both of you.”

Buffy and Spike locked hands as stared at the portal. Breathing in a determined breath, Spike led them into the swirling gateway.

--

D’Hoffryn arrived in Giles’ living room in a burst of smoke. Theresa shrieked and searched for something to cover herself with while Ethan merely stared in horror at their horned, blue skinned visitor. D’Hoffryn shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Mortals. Back to Harmony you go…jeez, Anyanka owes me for this…I was about to finally get into an Insdi demoness’ pants.”

Waving his hand in the air above Ethan and Theresa, a purple swirling mist enveloped them. After they vanished before him, D’Hoffryn smiled.

“Now…back to being Mr. Charming.”

With another tuft of smoke, Giles’ living room was vacant for the first time in months.

--

Enveloped in the billowing haze, Buffy and Spike momentarily lost sight of each other. Filled with fear at the loss of her companion, Buffy reached her hands out through the smoke. Spike grabbed her small hands in his own and pulled her towards himself. Buffy’s eyes filled with tears.

“I thought I’d lost you.”

“Never, pet.”

“Promise you won’t leave me once we get back? I don’t…I don’t want to lose this,” she said pointing between the two of them.

“Cross my heart and hope to…die…again.”

A light giggle escaped Buffy’s lips as she rested her head on Spike’s shoulder.

“Good. I really wish when we switch dimensions like this, they’d find a better way…maybe something with a floor. What if I dropped something? I’d never find it.”

Mirth flashed in Spike’s eyes and before she could stop him, he tore off her shirt and dropped it into nothingness.

“Oops.”

Grasping back onto him and landing a playfully smack on his chest, Buffy smiled.

“Dope.”

“Bitch.”

“Hey!”

“Oooh, Slayer can dish it out, but she can’t take it?”

“You know I can take…anything, Spike.”

“That I do, pet.”

The haze cleared into the familiar purple lights, which swirled around them, revealing two people joining them in the purgatory-like space. Buffy raised an eyebrow at Spike who mouthed “Ethan and Theresa.” Both couples eyed each other up, unsure of what to say or do next. Spike shook his head when he noticed the fresh bite marks on their necks.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…what did the two of you do to us?”

Ethan and Theresa looked at each other, and then back to Spike. Ethan shrugged.

“I…we…we thought we were going to be there for longer…we…the book said….”

Before Ethan could clarify his statement, a bright flash blinded the group. When the brightness subsided, Spike opened his eyes to Giles’ familiar living room. He sighed when he turned to Buffy, relieved that she had returned with him unscathed, and still shirtless. A thought crossed his mind and he grabbed her shoulders.

“You’re my Buffy, right? Not a doppelganger or soap starlet?”

Buffy rolled her eyes and shrugged off his grip.

“Of course it’s me, you dope. You know, that was my favorite shirt you shucked into the abyss. And look! It didn’t come with us. Big surprise.”

“Well, I’m glad it’s you…sort of. I guess. You know, after what we’ve gone through, you don’t have to be a right bitch to me anymore.”

Buffy fluttered her eyelashes and pouted.

“But isn’t that why you like me?”

Spike frowned and smacked her rear.

“Hush now, pet. We have to find whatever book that sodding Ethan was talking about. If it’s what I think it is….”

Spike trailed off as he doubled over in a sudden burst of immeasurable pain. Buffy’s cries fell on deaf ears as a multitude of blaring screams barraged his eardrums. Spike’s eyes shook in confusion, as faces, long deceased, floated around him, wailing. Scenes decades past hovered in his gaze. Every life he took, every ounce of pain he caused, every evil deed he had committed…everything was accounted for, and then some. After these images flew through him, visions he didn’t recognize at first pulsed inside his mind. Within moments, he recognized the images as Buffy’s memories. Feeling his heart ache because of the pain he caused her over the years was just too much for Spike to bear. His eyes and chest flashed with an effulgent yellow light, before he fell to the floor, unconscious. Buffy stood over him, her face drenched with tears and fraught with confusion.

“Spike? Baby? Please….”

Before she could reach for a phone to call for help, Buffy’s own vision was obscured in a tornado of images, which she recognized as Spike’s memories. As Spike had done, Buffy collapsed onto the floor, the ordeal too intense for her to handle without his supporting arms around her.

--

Ethan and Theresa found themselves standing in Tabitha’s kitchen, a tuft of purple smoke still hanging in the air. Timmy, who had changed himself back into his inanimate doll form, was sitting at the table. Tabitha stood before them smiling and holding a pot of tea.

“Theresa? Dear? Earth to Theresa!”

Theresa shook her head and blinked multiple times before looking to Tabitha.

“Huh? What?”

“I asked if you wanted any sugar in your tea, dear. Are you all right? You seem to be a bit out of sorts…hmm. Come to think of it, Ethan, dear, you seem a bit out of it as well. Maybe you two should get home and rest…perhaps you’re coming down with something. It is that time of year, now. Flu’s and colds going around, you know.”

Theresa nodded and grabbed Ethan’s hand.

“Right, umm…thanks for the tea, Tabitha. Rain check?”

“Of course, dears. Bye bye!”

The kitchen door slammed loudly as Theresa and Ethan exited, and Tabitha plopped down on a chair next to Timmy.

“Oh, my Tim-Tim. This is going to be too much fun to watch. What in the world will the bloody morons running around Harmony do when the real Ethan and Theresa come back?”

Timmy smiled.

“Well, Timmy figures that at least Gwen will leave Ethan and Theresa alone from now on. Probably Julian too.”

“Let’s hope not, Timmy. We are supposed to be working on the side of evil…you know, mayhem and destruction and all that.”

“Tabby doesn’t really mean that.”

“Oh hush, Timmy. The boys in the basement will hear you. Of course, I don’t really think they care too much about our having to cause Ethan and Theresa pain. If they were stranded on a desert island alone, those two would find some way to hurt each other. I think the same thing goes for Spike and Buffy.”

Timmy nodded.

“Should Timmy and Tabby check up on Spike and Buffy?”

“I don’t think we want to see what they’re doing Tim-Tim. Give them about an hour, and then we can tune in, all right? You may be a doll, but I don’t think I’m even old enough to see what those two do in their private time.”

--

Ethan and Theresa walked into Harmony’s town center, surrounded by a strange feeling. Too encompassed in their own world, they didn’t notice until it was too late that they were about to run into someone. When she fell onto the ground, Ethan stuck his hand out, apologizing profusely.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry…Gwen?”

Gwen, although slightly frazzled from being knocked over, still refused to reach for Ethan’s hand.

“You…Ethan…I’m…no, no, you made it perfectly clear to me earlier. I just want to tell you I’m so sorry for leaking your paternity to the tabloids. I was just trying….”

Ethan’s face reddened with rage.

“You did that? Gwen…I…get away from me. Never speak to me again, you got it? You’ve ruined my life! I’ll hate you forever for this you stupid bitch!”

Quickly walking around the slumped over Gwen, Ethan grabbed Theresa’s hand and continued their walk towards Crane manor. Various Harmony residents looked away from their stomping movements, however, Ethan didn’t seem to notice.

“Theresa?”

“Yes?”

“Since we’re home, we’re getting married. Now.”

“Ethan!”

“Julian is going to sign an annulment right now or I’ll break his neck. I think I retained some of that Spike guy’s powers…I feel stronger. And I’m pissed!”

Theresa smiled.

“It’s great to see you so passionate like this, Ethan.”

“You know what? I realized something, Theresa. I love you. I loved you from the moment we met. No matter what stupid thing comes between us, we’ll always wind up together.”

“That’s what I’ve always said, Ethan.”

“I know, baby, I know. I think that’s why we were switched with Spike and Buffy. It seems like they were going through the same stuff we were.”

“Yeah, but I managed to keep my shirt on.”

“We’ll see about that later,” he said with a wink.

Pounding a heavy fist on the front door of the home he had grown up in, Ethan waited impatiently for a servant to answer.

“Let me see Julian, now.”

Julian cleared his throat as he walked out from behind the door.

“I’m right here, son…er…Ethan. Here,” he said, handing over a legal-looking document.

“What’s this?”

“The annulment you wanted me to sign. I…I didn’t want you to…yes, well, at any rate, it’s all signed and everything. And I made sure that Theresa got a hefty sum for her trouble…help you out with the baby.”

Theresa’s eyes sparkled with the realization of what had happened.

“Thank you, Julian.”

“Yes, well. I have to admit I was a bit excited with the prospect of being a father again right after losing who I thought was my son…but…Ethan, I hope you and Theresa will let me be a part of your child’s life…I…after everything that has happened, I really need something to look forward to.”

Ethan’s mind was working overtime to register what he had heard.

“Right, sure. We have to go.”

“Nice seeing the two of you again.”

The door shut in front of them with a resounding “THUMP,” Ethan turned to Theresa, his eyes searching her own for answers.

“Theresa…I…is what Julian said true? The baby…it’s…it’s mine?”

Theresa shook her head in confusion.

“I don’t know…I…I just started taking the Pill the night before we…so it couldn’t have been…could it?”

Ethan smiled pressing a light kiss on his naive lover’s forehead.

“Theresa, honey, birth control doesn’t quite work like that. It was the first time you had taken it, right?”

“Right.”

“The ‘control’ part of it wouldn’t have kicked in until at least two weeks after you started taking it.”

Theresa smiled.

“So it looks like we just got the ‘birth’ part?”

“I guess it does.”

“Well, then. Let’s get married so our little guy has a family to look forward to coming into.”

Grabbing her hand again, Ethan walked with Theresa toward Father Lonnigan’s parish.

“Sounds like a plan.”

--

A few hours later, Ethan and Theresa lay, soaked in sweat, in her bedroom. She curled her fingers in his hair.

“Thank God Mama went out for the afternoon.”

“I concur, Mrs. Winthrop.”

“Mmm…it’s nice to hear you say that, Ethan.”

“I’m sorry it isn’t ‘Mrs. Crane’.”

“No, I didn’t like being ‘Mrs. Crane.’ I’d much rather be ‘Mrs. Ethan Whatever.’ I love you no matter what you call yourself.”

“Oh, great! What if I made you call me ‘Spike’ from now on?”

Theresa frowned at him and playfully pinched his chest.

“No. I think I’ve had enough of hearing you be called a dog’s name.”

“Right. Whereas the name ‘Buffy’ gives off a touch of classic elegance.”

“What’s wrong with ‘Buffy’?”

Chuckling, Ethan brought Theresa into a deep kiss.

“You know, we’re still mated in addition to being married. I can still see the bite marks on your neck.”

Theresa beamed broadly at him, absentmindedly touching the small scars on her neck.

“I know. It’s weird though, isn’t it? Do vampires even exist in Harmony?”

Ethan shook his head.

“After what we’ve been through, nothing would surprise me.”

“Was that, like, not normal, though? You know, what we went through right after?”

“You mean the memory thing?”

“Yeah.”

“No, I don’t think so. The book said that’d happen…oh hey! What about the telepathic speech thing? Did that kick in yet?”

Theresa shrugged.

“I don’t know…why don’t you test it out?”

“Okay,” Ethan said with a mischievous smirk.

Theresa gasped in mock horror, her eyes bulging out.

“Why, Mr. Winthrop! I’m a married woman now! We don’t do that sort of thing!”

“Oh yeah?”

Pouncing on top of Theresa, Ethan assaulted her mouth with a series of kisses. She giggled as he brushed his hands softly over her naked torso, tickling her mercilessly.

“Okay! Okay! But just this once!”

--

Giles staggered into his apartment, hung over, and fully expecting to be greeted by the orgasmic screams of the strangers inhabiting Buffy and Spike’s bodies. Instead, he found the two of them collapsed on his floor, Buffy gripping a book entitled ‘Vampyre Mating Rituals’ close to her chest.

“Oh, dear lord!”

--

Spike awoke to the familiar sound of Buffy’s ‘angry’ voice. When he realized that he was again chained up in the Watcher’s bathtub, he assumed she was yelling on his behalf. Buffy burst into the bathroom and in one fluid motion, validated his assumptions by snapping the chains as if they were made of clay.

“Spike, get up, we’re leaving.”

Before Spike could form a reply, Giles stormed into the bathroom, a stake firmly gripped in his hand.

“Buffy, I don’t want to hurt you, but you have to understand that this is for your own good.”

She scoffed, obviously unconvinced.

“My own good? How in God’s name would killing Spike help me? He’s my mate for sobbing out loud! Thanks in part to Ethan and Theresa, but still…mate!”

“Well for one it would break the claim those bloody morons put on you and….”

“And it would kill me too, Giles!”

“Didn’t you bother listening to me, Buffy? The only way that you could die along with this ‘mate’ of yours is if you…not just your body, but the real you, consummated the claim sexually with…oh dear, Lord! You mean…?”

Buffy nodded and Giles shook his head.

“Oh…dear Lord.”

Finally understanding the full depth of Ethan and Theresa’s actions, coupled with Buffy and Spike’s, the Watcher found himself at a loss for words, and decided that now was as good a time as any to faint. Buffy raised a hand to Spike when he moved to help Buffy carry the Watcher to the living room.

“No,” she said, allowing Giles to gently slide down to the tile floor, “he made you sleep in here, it’s about time he got a taste of his own medicine.”

Spike laughed and pulled Buffy towards himself, and kissed her with great fervor.

“I think I may be rubbing off on you, Slayer.”

“I like when you rub me,” she said, grabbing his hand and leading him into Giles’ living room.

She plopped down on Giles’ couch and motioned for Spike to do the same. When he did, she grabbed the large “Vampyre Mating Rituals” book that had been sitting on the coffee table.

“Care to do some reading with me?”

--

A few hours and a dozen chapters later, Buffy and Spike closed the book and stared at each other. Buffy sucked in a deep breath.

“So we might be….”

“Pregnant.”

“What with the whole….”

“Body switching and the claiming….”

“And the sex. Don’t forget the sex.”

“I for one could never forget the sex, Slayer.”

“Well, maybe if you’d have kept your damn hands off of me, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“A mess! Oi, now watch it, Slayer! Your pretty little hands were all over me too as I recall.”

Buffy sighed and nodded.

“Sorry…I just…I don’t want to…what if I am, you know? Pregnant?”

“Well, then we’ll have a little bundle of Slayer wandering around in a few months and kicking Daddy in the knees in a few years.”

“I’m serious, Spike. What are we going to do if…you know…if I’m all knocked up?”

“I was being serious, Slayer…I would…Buffy, pet, I would take care of you…and the little Nibblet. I’d…I’d do sodding everything.”

Caressing his face with an outstretched hand, Buffy smiled.

“Good…but, let’s not count our chicken before he’s hatched…we don’t even know if I am preggers….”

“Off to the drugstore, then?”

“I guess so,” Buffy said as she glanced out the window at the setting sun.

“Lead the way Mum.”

A playful scowl crossed Buffy’s face before she wrapped her arms around Spike’s neck and planted a wet kiss on his cheek.

“Sure thing, Daddy.”

--

A wall full of pregnancy tests towered in front of Buffy and Spike in the fluorescent lights of the pharmacy. Buffy’s mouth hung slightly agape as her eyes darted from the “Patented Clearpink” test, “EZTesty”, the “20 Second Baby Bell,” and the various other tests, each bearing pictures either smiling babies or a sleek-for-the-1980’s logo. Spike sighed as he noticed her confusion, and grabbed the Clearpink test. When Buffy opened her mouth to protest, he held his hand up.

“Into the loo’ with you, Slayer. Tinkle on the strip and call me in,” he trailed off as he read the back of the package, “Five ‘easy’ minutes.”

She nodded and walked toward the registers, grasping Spike’s hand in her own. She emitted a light chuckle as a thought passed through her mind.

“You’d think they’d try and keep the word ‘easy’ off of a pregnancy test.”

“Yeah, and one would assume they wouldn’t want ‘testy’ on it either, Slayer. Quit dawdling and get to your little piddlin’ party.”

Five ‘easy’ minutes later, Buffy walked out of the bathroom, beaming. It was now Spike’s turn to balk in confusion as she happily thrust the test at him.

“You…I…we…Slayer…you’re…you’re…YOU’RE BLOODY PREGNANT!”

A row of cashiers turned to frown at the couple before turning their attentions back to scanning and bagging. Buffy blushed and pulled Spike closer to her.

“I am! We…we are! But keep it down, I don’t want everyone to know...not yet anyway.”

“Oh, ashamed of me now, are we, Buffy? Great. Knock your sorry behind up and what’s the thanks I get? Oh nothing. Just kicked out to the street without a sodding look….”

Spike trailed off as Buffy devoured his mouth with a sensual kiss. She pulled back and giggled.

“No, silly. It’s bad luck before the first trimester. You’re only supposed to tell a few people,” she turned and counted the cashiers, “and I think that your little outburst used up our quota.”

Spike shook his head and picked Buffy up in his arms. She squealed in delight.

“Spike! What are you doing? Ah! Put me down!”

“Not a chance of that, love. I’m carrying you and junior home.”

“Home?”

“Well…to the Watcher’s home…oh bloody hell, Buffy, where are we going to live?”

--

“No,” Buffy said curtly.

Spike rolled his eyes.

“What’s wrong with this one?”

Buffy threw an arm around in a sweeping motion, and then glared at Spike, expectantly.

“Do you see something wrong with this neighborhood?”

“No…good schools...usually pretty quiet.”

“‘Usually pretty quiet,’ he says!”

“Well it’s quiet during the day!”

“Yeah, because none of your demon buddies can come out in the sunlight!”

“So? What’s wrong with demons?”

“What’s wrong with…Spike,” Buffy moaned, putting her hand to her forehead, “I’m the Slayer.”

Spike gasped and bulged his eyes out in pseudo-shock.

“You are? You’re the…Slayer? Oh no, and I’m a vampire, so that means that…Buffy,” he groaned, dropping to his knees in shaking reverence, “please don’t kill me, oh Slayer of my peoples! I am far too unworthy of even the slightest prick of your stake! Oh, Slayer, I beseech you….”

Spike trailed off as Buffy whapped him on the head with the rounded edge of her stake.

“Can it. Spike, I’m serious…I don’t want our baby growing up here, and I can’t even imagine how pissed the neighbors would be if the Slayer moved into their neighborhood.”

“They’ll be fine, pet…I can take care of any dissenters…I can fix it up…I ate a decorator once, so I’m sure something stuck.”

Buffy shook her head and grabbed his hand, leading him away from the small building. She cringed her nose as she tromped forward.

“I am not raising my baby in a crypt, Spike.”

“Oh,” Spike said, stopping dead in his tracks, “so now it’s just your baby, is it? Well that’s just peachy, Slayer, because as I last recall that baby is half mine.”

Buffy sighed, unwilling or unable to squabble with Spike anymore.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…it’s just a turn of phrase.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Spike said, drawing Buffy close to himself, and pecking her on her forehead. “You know, Slayer, I used to stay mad at you…it’s not fair.”

“I believe you’ve threatened to ‘maim me beyond repair,’ and ‘wrend my sodding entrails from every inch of my bloody frame,’” Buffy said in a mock-cockney accent, “No less than twenty times.”

Spike smiled at Buffy, rolling his tongue behind his teeth.

“And now look at you…all carrying my seed and what-not.”

“Disappointed I’m not all maimed or wrendy-like Buffy?”

“I seem to like randy-like Buffy.”

“I said wrendy.”

“No, you didn’t, pet…come here.”

Pulling a squealing Buffy behind another crypt, Spike stared into her eyes before doing anything else.

“I love you, you know, you daft bint.”

“Of course you do. You have to,” Buffy said, pointing to her still flat stomach.”

“I don’t have to, but I do. I’m a vampire, Buffy…I’ve lived for sodding ever, but you make me feel…like I matter…you make me feel like a man…and that’s….”

Spike trailed off in his heartfelt speech as a mischievous grin caressed Buffy’s face and she broke out into song.

“You make me feel! Yooou make me feel! Yooooou make me feel like a natural woman!”

Rolling his eyes and pressing her body against the crypt, Spike shook his head.

“Are you going to sing while I shag you? Because it might throw my game off.”

A mixture of laughing, groaning, and thrusts echoed throughout the Restfield cemetery until the briefest hints of Dawn spattered the skyline.

--

Spike and Buffy quietly entered Giles’ home, just as the sun was illuminating the morning sky. Sensing that the home was inhabited for the moment, they relaxed, and Spike walked into the kitchen as Buffy drew all of the blinds and curtains. Carrying a bowl of Weetabix, a mug of warmed blood, and a glass full of pomegranate tea, Spike sat down on the couch and motioned for Buffy to join him. Buffy did, and grabbed a stick of the Weetabix, dunking it in the tea to moisten it slightly. When Spike mimicked her actions, only dipping his slice of Weetabix in blood. Buffy crinkled up her nose in disdain, and Spike scoffed at her reaction.

“To each his own, Slayer.”

As she bit into her stick of Weetabix, Buffy grimaced.

“Yuck! What kind of…why do English people have such poor taste in food?”

“How can you not like Weetabix?”

“It’s…icky. I can’t describe it. It’s like…dry oatmeal and…feet…they should call it Feetabix.”

“Oi! Now watch your lip, Slayer. I may love you, but no sodding bird talks like that about Weetabix. ‘Weetabix is unbeatabix,’ love, which is something you’ll have to learn if we’re going to make this thing we have work.”

“Sorry, Spike,” Buffy said, tossing her Weetabix down to the table, “I just don’t see it.”

Spike sighed and picked up her abandoned wheat block and dunked it into his mug before crunching down.

“What does my dear love want to bloody eat?”

An impish smile crossed Buffy’s face as she envisioned Spike in a sombrero.

“Mexican.”

“Mexican?”

“Mexican.”

Spike sighed.

“Slayer, I….”

“Nope. I’m going to get all fat and pregnant, so I get to make the decisions here.”

“But….”

“Nope.”

“Oh, bloody hell, Slayer,” Spike seethed as he stood up, “the only sodding Mexican place in Sunnydale is ‘El Alce,’ and I’ll be right damned if I’m going to eat there.”

Buffy pouted.

“Why?”

“Because I know you, Slayer, and if there’s a chance to embarrass me, you’ll sodding take it.”

“Please?”

Unable to resist the power of her pout, Spike grabbed his duster and nodded to the door.

“Lead the way, pet. But I’m not wearing a sombrero.”

Suppressing the urge to retort, Buffy merely fastened a pathetic pout onto her face and turned on her heels to stare into Spike’s eyes. He sighed.

“Oh, bloody hell!”

--

As a fresh batch of tortilla chips and salsa arrived at their table, Buffy grinned at the sombreroed vampire sitting across from her.


--

Stuffed full of cheese enchiladas and fried poblano peppers, Buffy gently pet Spike on the shoulders as they walked hand-in-hand down a dark street.

“Thank you.”

“For what, pet? Making a bloody idiot of m’self?”

“Yup.”

“Slayer! ‘s not nice to make fun of people you know.”

“You shouldn’t make it so easy.”

“Oi! Now you watch that mouth, Slayer, or I’ll….”

“Kill me and wash the streets with my blood? Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

Spike curled his tongue behind his teeth and wiggled his eyebrows lewdly at Buffy.

“No…well…almost. I’m going to have to punish you for that lip, pet.”

A coy smile caressed Buffy’s lips and she walked seductively over to Spike, wrapping her arms around his torso underneath his duster.

“Mmm…I kinda like the sound of that.”

“The Big Bad is back, baby.”

“I’ll bet he is,” a deep voice said from the darkness behind them.

Buffy turned and sighed when a hulking frame stepped out into the dim streetlight.

“Angel? What are you doing here?”

“Yeah. What the bloody hell are you doin’ here, tall, dark, and brooding?”

Angel scowled at Spike.

“I could ask you the same question. Buffy,” he said turning to the diminutive Slayer, “What the hell is this?”

Spike’s heart ached as Buffy dropped his hand to grasp Angel’s arms, bringing them tightly against his body. The sad sparkle in her near-teary eyes hurt Spike more than any stake ever could have.

Birds always leave you for the Poofter, mate. First Dru, now Buffy. When will you ever bloody learn?

Buffy stared at Angel and sighed.

“Angel…it’s just…Spike and I...we're together now. Not like you and I were...it's different...I...you and I…hmm. What we had was puppy love. I was like cookie dough back then.”

Angel raised an eyebrow.

“Cookie dough?”

“Yeah. And now I’m all baked…and Spike gets to enjoy delicious cookie me.”

“Cookie you?”

“Mmhmm. We had puppy love and it was great back then…until you went all evil and ‘Grr,’ you know? But I’m older now and wiser…partly thanks to you. I cherish what we had, Angel, I really do…it’s just…it’s not like it was ever going to work, even without your curse. I couldn’t…we were just too different. Spike and I…it’s like we’re equals. We understand each other. We,” Buffy trailed off and dropped her grip on Angel. Turning to Spike, her eyes finally sparkling with joy, although the tears began to fall. “I love him. And I’m pretty sure he loves me.”

“More with every word you say, pet,” Spike said with a smile.

Buffy smiled as Spike dried a few of her tears.

“And we’re….”

“Mated,” Angel interrupted.

Buffy stared in disbelief at him.

“Wait…how did you know that?”

“Buffy. I’m a vampire. I can see the connection between the two of you,” he sighed. “If you’re happy with…Spike…I guess I can’t say anything to change that.”

“Good thing. But,” Buffy asked, “Then why are you here?”

“Willow called me when you got possessed or switched or something. I came to help.”

Spike snorted a laugh.

“Sounds like you had the situation all under control, Poofter.”

Buffy stifled a laugh.

“Spike.”

“Right. Well, thanks for the help, Angel, really. But me and the Missus have to be getting home now.”

“And where is home,” Angel asked. “Because I know Giles won’t be too keen on you being mated to Spike, Buffy.”

He sniffed the air curiously before his jaw opened widely, in awe.

“You’re…pregnant?!”

Buffy blushed.

“Well, yeah. Long story.”

“I’ll pass. Here,” Angel said, reaching into his coat pocket. “Take this.”

He handed Buffy an ATM card. She stared at him before he spoke again.

“It’s got a few hundred thousand in the account. Get a house or something…I don’t know. I doubt even your mother would help you and I know Giles won’t want to help you raise the spawn of…Spike.”

Spike rolled eyes, and held back a smile.

“Oh, so you just come in here all noble-like with your ‘I came to help you, Buffy,’ routine and then buy us a house, eh? That about right, Poofter?”

“I suppose so.”

A silent pause passed before Spike thrust a hand out to Angel.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Angel said after shaking Spike’s hand. “Well, don’t get used to it.”

“Right. Don’t get used to me thanking you, Poofter. I still hate you, you know.”

Buffy smirked.

“Isn’t that what you said to me right before….”

“Buffy, pet,” Spike said as he covered her mouth with his palm. “Let’s get going now, shall we?”

Buffy wriggled free of Spike’s hand and pouted.

“Fine. Stupid…vampire…stupid…hands.”

“Keep that pout up and Angel will get a show that I doubt he really wants to see, pet.”

A rose color crept into Buffy’s face and she smiled coyly at Spike. Angel sighed.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

“Well, ‘s a good thing you won’t be around us to think about it, Poofter. Off to LA with you.”

“Buffy,” Angel said, trying to catch her gaze, “You know I’ll always….”

“Right,” Buffy interjected, her eyes never leaving Spike’s form. “Angel, we have to go…I…Spike and I have to go…you understand…you kind of interrupted us….”

Buffy waggled her eyebrows at Spike and as a wide grin crossed her face, she took off running towards Restfield cemetery. Spike shrugged at Angel.

“Duty calls, mate. Thanks again for…well…right. See ya.”

As Spike ran after a squealing and very aroused Slayer, Angel hung his head and leaned against the brick wall in the dim streetlight.

“Damn…cookies.”

--

Spike was never one to spoil a lady’s sexual game. He crept through the cemetery, hoping to help Buffy enjoy herself and her idea thoroughly.

Don’t find her yet, old boy. Your years of practice with Drusilla hopefully taught you that patience and anticipation are crucial for, bloody hell!

“Buffy!”

Too lost in his own thoughts to notice the Slayer sneaking up behind him, Spike nearly vamped out when Buffy put her arms around his waist. With a growl he turned around and picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around his form instinctually. Between feverish kisses, Spike spoke to her.

“Buffy…pet…oh…what’s…what’s…all…this…about?”

Buffy smiled down at him and whipped off her shirt in one fluid motion.

“Horny. I want my mate.”

“Happy to oblige, pet.”

After a whirlwind of shirts and pants, Buffy and Spike found themselves stark naked and intimately connected on the dewy grass of Restfield cemetery.

--

Giles, Willow, Tara, and Anya sat around a table in the Magic Box staring at a flustered and scraped up Xander.

“See, Giles, I get the whole ‘worried about Buffy’ thing, but can we focus on what happened to me for a second?”

“Yes, Xander, please enlighten us again as to who knocked you down so maliciously that you scraped your knee,” Giles said with a sigh.

“Hey! It was my chin and an elbow…and this is serious! This thing attacked me and then just ran off…he didn’t even say he was sorry.”

“And you said that it appeared to be half man and half bear?”

“And half pig! No, no…this was no ordinary beast, Giles. This thing was evil.”

Anya gasped loudly.

“It was Lotash!”

“ManBearPig has a name?”

“No, honey, Lotash is…was…he…he was an old friend…er…back in my demon days…okay so he’s my ex!”

“You dated ManBearPig?”

“No, you idiot. Lotash is an Omidan…a long living mortal with a few special powers…summoning non-corporeal animal visages to intimidate people is one of them.”

Giles shook his head.

“Non-corporeal? So this thing….”

“ManBearPig,” Xander interjected.

“Actually his name is Phil,” Anya said. “He’s the spirit of a Baranga demon that Lotash can channel.”

“Right,” Giles continued. “So, if this Phil character is non-corporeal, then how did he attack you Xander?”

Xander stood in silence for a moment, his eyes darting from person to person, and then to the floor.

“I…well…he…uhh….”

“You fell, honey,” Anya cooed. “It’s alright. We all know you’re clumsy.”

Willow smiled.

“So…he’ll just go away, no big problem?”

“He should.”

“We could have Buffy kill him,” Xander offered.

Just then, the door jingled open and Buffy walked in, dragging a begrudging Spike with her by the hand. She took a deep breath before looking at the Scooby gang.

“Okay, before anyone says anything, we’re just stopping in to set a few things straight. Spike and I are together now. While we were in Harmony, we just clicked and we decided…we’re…we’re mated now.”

“Mated? Buffy,” Giles started to say.

Buffy held her hand up and shook her head.

“Giles, please. It was our decision, and while Ethan and Theresa were in our bodies, they did the dirty work for us. And…while we were in Harmony we kind of…and when we came back I was…I mean, I am….”

“Slayer’s pregnant,” Spike said with a smirk.

Giles, who had taken to cleaning his glasses, was now covered in the broken shards of the lenses.

“Oh good Lord! You…what? Buffy…how…?”

“Do you really want the gory details, Watcher? Though I don’t mind giving them…see, I had the Slayer at this little inn, and,” Spike said before Buffy playfully smacked his arm.

“Spike!”

“I think Giles was wondering how a vampire could get you pregnant, Buffy,” Tara piped up, “It’s very rare, if not impossible.”

“Not when they’re mated it isn’t,” Anya said with a mischievous grin. “Plus vampire’s sperm are undead just like them…they just have a difficult time taking to anything other than their mate or a very strong creature. Buffy’s Slayer powers must have helped the process along. It could have happened even without the mating, but it would have taken quite a few more tries, I imagine.”

Spike’s face was covered in a huge grin.

“We would have gotten it eventually anyway, wouldn’t we, pet?”

“Buffy, I can’t say I approve,” Giles stuttered.

“I don’t care, Giles,” Buffy said curtly, “Spike was my choice…I love him. He’ll take care of me and our child and….”

Buffy blushed and absentmindedly rubbed her stomach. Spike wrapped an arm protectively around her and breathed deeply.

“Pet, did you want to know the baby’s sex?”

“You can tell? Already?”

“Course I can,” Spike said, tapping his nose. “Vamp’s intuition. Can tell its mine…can tell its alive…can tell its….”

Buffy’s eyes widened as Spike’s expression fell and then perked up immensely.

“I can tell its twins.”

The girls in the room squealed in delight, aside from Buffy, who blinked in disbelief.

“Does that mean I’m going to get double fat? Because that is so not on my agenda….”

“Pet, from the little I’ve seen of vampire pregnancies…you won’t have to worry about that for too long.”

“You mean we’re having a vampire baby? Babies?”

Spike bent down in front of Buffy and placed an ear to her stomach. He smiled as he looked up at her.

“No…no, they’re both alive…can hear their hearts beating. They’re just…powerful. Already.”

“We’re gonna need a bigger house,” Buffy said with a soft smile.

Spike nodded.

“Well, we are the recipients of the Poofter Fund for Wayward Mothers, so any of you Scoobies who want to join us on our house hunt are welcome to tag along, if you play nice.”

Spike and Buffy walked out of the door without looking back. Aside from the flabbergasted Giles, everyone ran after the mated pair.

--

Angel and Giles sat slumped on their stools at Willy’s bar, each nursing a bottle of Jack Daniels. Giles opened his mouth to talk, but instead simply sighed and slammed his head down on the counter. Angel nodded and joined him with a loud, drunken sob.

“Spike!”

Giles moaned in agony.

“I…I’m truly at a total loss. Buffy…I…I thought she was smarter than this…I….”

“I know….”

“It’s just…its Spike! Evil, soulless…William the sodding Bloody! And Buffy…my poor Buffy….”

Angel hiccupped.

“And I bought them a house!”

“You what?”

“I ran into them and…I could sense their connection and her…pregnancy…so I just…I just wanted to help….”

“Help? What the hell, Angel,” Giles slurred as he stood and put his fists up. “You…you son of a bitch…bloody…brooding…idiot!”

Giles crashed onto the floor when he threw a punch at one of the blurry figures of Angel before him. While Giles lay unconscious on the floor, Angel polished off his bottle of Jack and asked Willy for a pint of blood, which he quickly received and downed. He then stumbled into a blackout and joined the Watcher on the floor. Willy drew the blinds so he wouldn’t have to clean up a large dust pile in the morning, before locking up for the night. Unconscious as they were, neither Giles nor Angel noticed the hulking and furry figure that stared down at them hungrily.

--

Burning anger against all those who wronged him brewed deep inside of the furry beast standing above Angel and Giles. He sniffed Angel and scowled, then moved to breathe in a bit of Giles’ scent. A strange smile crossed his lips.

Anyanka close.

The massive fur creature stretched his clawed paws towards Giles, but thought better of it. Running out of the bar on his hoofed feet, Phil didn’t notice that his precious cargo had fallen out of the bag he had brought with him.



A few hours later, Angel woke up in a pulsing haze. He sobered up immediately when he saw what had fallen from Phil’s bag. He shook Giles’ shoulders and pointed in fear at the severed head sitting on the floor in front of them.

--

Xander shook his head disdainfully and stood up.

“Nope. Foundation’s cracked, Buffster. This house’ll go to hell in five years or less.”

Buffy smiled.

“Thanks…I guess since we’re on the Hellmouth, that isn’t much of a trek, but thanks. You know, you’re really good at this.”

“Yeah, honey,” Anya piped in, “You could make a lot of money in real estate. It is the new frontier, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll think about it,” Xander said with a chuckle. “Let’s go on to the next house…it’s the only one we haven’t seen aside from the one with…memories.”

Buffy smiled and gripped Spike’s hand as she tried to ignore the lingering melancholy that came over her whenever she thought of Angel’s mansion. Spike stroked her hair with his free hand.

“Pet, the poncy bugger was never good enough for you. Soul or no soul.”

Buffy nodded.

“I know. I’m just glad that’s not our only option to move into…I don’t think I could handle that.”

“If it was pet, we’d be buying the shoddy house that’s crumbling into hell. Don’t care about the foundation if my Slayer’s happy.”

The group walked down the darkened streets with a few trivial conversations passing around. Buffy gasped when they stopped in front of a large, brown Tudor with bright white trimming. Similar smiles crept onto both Buffy and Spike’s faces, as they looked, appreciatively, at the home.

“This is it, in’t, pet?”

“Yup.”

“Don’t need to go in?”

“Nope. This is it.”

Xander grinned broadly at the two.

“Well, let’s go in anyhow.”

Always the master of breaking and entering, Spike popped yet another lock for the night, allowing them access to the spacious, but not overly massive home. The first floor held a series of brick-walled rooms, the largest with a giant fireplace. The second floor contained five bedrooms, the master bedroom containing a private bathroom with a massive Jacuzzi tub. Buffy smiled as she stared at the tub’s ecru finish.

“This is definitely it, Spike. I’m looking forward to soaking in here after a long night of slaying.”

“Or laying,” Spike whispered to her as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

Buffy rolled her eyes and swatted his hands away.

“So, who do we call to buy this place?”

Xander grabbed his cell phone from his pocket and wrote down a phone number on a scrap of paper before handing it to Buffy.

“Here. Her name is Millie. She’s like, 90 or something and just moved to Florida…she’s selling this so she can get a bigger condo or something down there. Her kids don’t want it…they never call her…she took care of them for 20 years, but noooo, they can’t bother to give her a call once a week.”

Xander coughed uncomfortably when he noticed the room full of strange looks he was receiving and shrugged.

“Be careful with her, she’ll talk your ear off.”

Smiling as she stuffed the paper into her pocket, Buffy grabbed Spike’s hand and led the group back outside.

--

Buffy yawned and stretched her arms out wide, making sure not to spill her coffee.

“So, it’s 9 o’clock in the morning, and there’s already evil afoot? When am I supposed to sleep? Someone should send out a memo.”

Giles frowned at her and patted Anya’s shoulder.

“Buffy, please. Now, Anya, you’re sure that there’s no one who would want this…Lotash fellow decapitated?”

Anya sniffled and shook her head.

“No! I mean, he could be a jerk, but for the most part, he was an okay guy. Hey! Maybe it’s just an accident? Like, he slipped or something?”

Giles sighed.

“Anya, we’ve been over this. His head was torn off, not cut, and it was in a rather large bag. How the devil would he even get his head in the bag if he did it himself?”

“It could have rolled!”

Spike laughed as he and Angel climbed up from the basement.

“Pet, there were large pig tracks all over the pub. I’d wager that our ManBearPig is corporeal now.”

Anta gasped and grabbed Willow’s arm, causing the half-asleep witch to wake with a start.

“Then Xander wasn’t lying! He isn’t as weak as a six-year-old schoolgirl!”

“Sure he is, love,” Spike said, “He’s just lucky he didn’t get his head ripped off too.”

Tearing his glasses off, Giles started to stutter.

“Y..yes, well, ah…Anya, do you think that this creature will come after you?”

“Well, I never saw exactly what happened, but I always heard that Loey was very mean to Phil…took out all his frustrations on it. And I know he never got over me…obviously it would be almost impossible for any man, but my Loey was a one-demon guy.”

“And this…Phil fellow, would no doubt, harbor some ill will towards you for causing him pain by proxy?”

“I guess.”

A low growl interrupted the Watcher’s train of thought, and the Scooby gang turned to the sound’s source. Fully the ManBearPig Xander described, Phil towered over the group, cracking his neck loudly before bolting at Anya, teeth bared.

“Annyaannnkaaa!!”

“Oh no you don’t, furball,” Buffy said with a smirk and a well-planted kick to the sternum.

Phil was sent crashing into a wall of herbs, breaking a few dozen jars. Anya sighed.

“You break it, you buy it!”

“Shut up, Anya,” Giles moaned.

Willow shut the door and blinds with a flick of her wrist, giving Spike and Angel the chance to join in the fight without the fear of being flambéed. Buffy jumped on Phil’s back, grabbing at his head to snap his neck, as Angel and Spike pummeled him mercilessly. Phil shrugged all of them off as he pressed a small knob on the talisman he wore. Beginning to grow larger, Phil’s already massive frame began to expand, and his head soon touched the ceiling. Buffy caught Willow’s gaze while everyone, including Phil, was transfixed on his growth spurt, and mouthed a single word before leaping at the beast’s neck. Willow nodded.

“Xrtha naminto har monlits!”

In a flash of purple light, Phil was gone, leaving in his wake a pile of rosebuds and a somewhat confused Buffy, grasping the talisman in her hand.

“I can’t believe that worked!”

Spike sauntered up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Now, Slayer, there’ll be no more world-saving feats for the next nine months. Savvy?”

“Savvy? What are you now, a pirate?”

“Oi! It’s a common phrase….”

“Maybe if you have scurvy.”

Spike frowned and tossed the talisman to Giles.

“Add this to the collection, Watcher. Me and the Mrs. are going home.”

“Home?”

“Yeah. Nice little place on Sunset. We’re not moved in yet, but we’ll pay the sodding bird for it later today, so it’s essentially ours. Come on love,” he said grabbing Buffy’s hand.

A small jingling noise announced Xander’s entrance to the shop, and he grinned.

“Hey gang! Whoa…what’d I miss?”

Anya walked to him and patted him on the shoulder.

“Nothing, sweetie. Now, go clean that glass up for me.”

“I’m on the job!”

Both suppressing a laugh, Buffy and Spike climbed into the sewer underneath the Magic Box and made the short trek to their new abode. When Spike stopped suddenly, Buffy turned to him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Buffy, pet, you…you really want this, right? Me and you…the whole shebang?”

Buffy scoffed.

“Shebang?”

“You know what I mean, love.”

“Spike, I love you. I loved you in Harmony, and I love you here. We’re having twins…we’re mated…seems a little late for me to be having second thoughts.”

Spike grinned and nodded as they continued toward their home.

“So where’d the witch send old Philly boy?”

A coy smile crossed Buffy’s lips as she and Spike climbed into their new basement.

“To someone who deserves a non-corporeal ManBearPig to haunt them forever.”

--

Gwen stretched out in her cushy bed and sighed.

“Man…I hate being alone. If it wasn’t for that damn Theresa, I’d have Ethan here to keep me company. You know what? I’ll be damned if some little tamale is going to stop me from having my man, and I…”

An inhuman growl interrupted Gwen’s voiced internal monologue. She shrieked and dove back under the covers. He curiosity got the best of her after a few moments, and slowly pulled the down comforter from her face. She shrieked yet again. Phil, in all of his non-corporeal ManBearPig glory, was hovering next to her bed. He was growling again.

“Who…who…what…who are you,” she stammered.

Another growl was her response.

“Well, fine then. If you don’t want to speak to me like a civilized…uh…a civilized…bear…pig...man…thing, then I don’t think that I have to deal with you.”

With a snooty glare, Gwen hoisted herself out of bed and walked to her bedroom door. Phil followed her. Gwen stamped her foot.

“What?? What could you possibly want from me? I don’t have any salmon…or…whatever pigs eat. Just…just go away, okay? I have to go get Ethan back.”

Many people in Harmony said that Gwen just couldn’t take the pain of finally losing Ethan and snapped. Others whispered that sometimes they too could get a glimpse of the “demon” that Gwen said was following her. Suffice it to say, as she walked out of her room in the Crane mansion, Phil hovering closely behind her, Gwen snapped. She snapped in front of the servants, her mother, and Julian. The latter was so taken aback by her display that he dropped his bourbon. Julian never wasted liquor. It appeared to everyone else in the room that Gwen shrieked at nothingness. Only Tabitha, Timmy, Ethan and Theresa, who were watching from Tabitha’s viewing bowl in her kitchen, knew the truth. They toasted Gwen’s hauling off to the madhouse with a fresh batch of Martimmis.


--


~Eight Months Later~


Buffy sighed as she leaned back against Spike, surrounded by bubbles and candlelight in their giant bathtub. He gently washed her back with a hot pink loofah, and his tenderness felt better than any professional massage could have. Reaching around her frame, he lathered up her round stomach; she was a week past due already, and going a tad crazy waiting for the babies to arrive. Spike knew how fatigued she was, and surprised her with a peaceful escape, even if only for a few moments.

"Buffy, love, are you feeling any better?"

She smiled and looked over her shoulder, as best she could manage, at Spike.

"You really are amazing, Spike. Thank you."

"Course, pet. You know you'll owe me after you pop."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm thinking a nice long snog...followed by a multitude of quick ones."

Buffy bit her lip and turned back around.

"With how long it’s been since we've had sex, I'd bet on the quick one being first."

"Oi! Just because you're chomping at the bit doesn't mean that I have to be totally celibate, love."

"What does that mean? Who," she asked, turning fully around to face him.

Spike made a quick up and down motion with his right hand. Buffy raised an eyebrow.

"You're staking vampires?"

Buffy was met with a disbelieving stare.

"Yes, Buffy, that's what I'm doing to relieve sexual frustration."

"Well...."

"Well, I'm doing both you daft bint."

Buffy grinned.

"I thought so. And it's only been a month, Spike."

"Month and nine days."

"Whatever. I can hold out longer if you're not nice to me."

"No you can't, love. You're itching to get those kiddies out of you so you can jump my tight little body."

Buffy raised an eyebrow, then nodded.

"Well, yeah...but that's not the only reason. I feel like a manatee."

"A manatee?"

"Yeah...what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, love. Just an odd choice of animal to describe your lovely self."

"So what kind of animal am I?"

"I'd say a very pregnant deer. Beautiful, graceful, and ready to kick you in the bloody face if you piss her off."

Buffy smiled.

"I like that."

Standing up with a groan, Buffy climbed out of the bathtub. Spike followed closely behind her and gave her a playfully angry glare.

"Bloody hell, Slayer, do you have to make such a mess when you get out of the tub? You got sodding water all over the floor."

A pained expression crossed Buffy's face.

"Spike...that wasn't sudsy water...I think...I think we have to call Willow."

Lifting her heavy form up in a fluid motion, Spike carried Buffy into their bedroom and set her gently down on their bed. He dialed a small wall-mounted phone and waited a moment while it rang.

"Willow? Yeah, it's Spike. Yeah...yeah it's bloody time. Right. Thanks."

Hanging up the phone, Spike walked over to Buffy's side and held her hand.

"The witch'll be here in a moment, pet. Now you're sure you don't want to go to the hospital?"

"No...there's no telling what I'll give birth to you know...."

"I know, love, could be a rabbit or something."

Even in her vulnerable position, Buffy's resonating smack sent Spike flailing backwards into an end table.

"Oi! I was just kidding, pet. The kids will be fine, as I've told you. I've listened to their bloody heartbeats...they're insipid those two, clearly human."

Buffy frowned.

"Whatever. I'm not having a bunny baby."

A quick burst of smoke flooded into the room, and Willow walked out of it, smiling and holding a large black bag.

"Hi guys! Let's birth these babies!"

Spike greeted the witch with a smile, while Buffy was more focused on the contractions that were wracking her frame. Willow moved to the edge of her bed swiftly, and gently prodded Buffy's legs apart. Willow tossed a quick sprinkling of dust from a small bag attached at her hip over Buffy, who almost instantaneously calmed down.

"That'll at least ease your pain, Buffy. Let me check how far dilated you are and we'll get you back in your skinny jeans."

Buffy smiled meekly and rested back against Spike's arm. Her smile quickly faded into a rage-filled sneer when a large contraction hit. It was only Spike’s superhuman abilities that saved his hand from being crushed by her vice-like grip. She glared at Spike, enraged.

“I HATE YOU!!!”

Spike rubbed his injured hand and shook his head at Buffy.

“No you don’t, pet. But thanks for saying it...means you really care.”

“I swear to God, Spike, as soon as I have these kids I’m going to stake your ass for putting me through…Ahhhck!”

Buffy’s angry tirade was cut off, yet again, by another giant contraction. Willow smiled and winked at Spike.

“I can see the head of one of them! Geez you're lucky, Buffy! This is going so quickly! It’ll all be over soon….”

“Yeah, so says the girl not pushing two beings from her…area! Soon isn’t soon enough Wills…ahh!”

With a brief amount of coaching from Willow and a quick prayer offered to the fertility god statue the witch kept in her pocket, Buffy soon pushed a tiny frame from her form. Willow quickly handed the child over to Spike, who rinsed her off, and then stared into her bright blue eyes.

“Buffy…she’s…she’s beautiful.”

Buffy was too busy pushing the second child from her form to notice any of what Spike was saying. Her Slayer stamina aided her quick delivery, and she too was soon holding a tiny baby, freshly cleansed by Willow. Tears rolled down Buffy’s eyes as she looked at the screaming little bundle in her arms.

“Spike…look at him! He looks just like you!”

Spike, whose own eyes were suspiciously misty, raised an eyebrow at her.

“I do not look like that, pet. I have better hair and I look more dignified crying.”

A string of unintelligible words came from Willow, and when Buffy looked at her frame, she was as freshly cleaned as the twins were, as were her bed sheets. She mouthed a thank you to Willow, and then turned her attention back to the little boy in her arms. Spike planted a kiss on the top of Buffy’s head and smiled at Willow.

“Thanks, Red.”

“Sure thing…if there’s anything else I can do for you guys, let me know…Buffy just needs some rest right now, and I set up the two cribs in the corner the other day, so the babies have somewhere to rest,” Willow said, shooting the pair another smile before vanishing in a cloud of smoke.

The infant in Buffy’s arms fidgeted suddenly, and then stretched out his body and yawned. Buffy’s eyes lit up as she watched his sleepy antics.

“What should we call them?”

“Pet, I think I have a suggestion…considering the reason we really have these two….”

Buffy smiled.

“Ethan and Theresa?”

Nodding, Spike sat down next to Buffy, intently focused on their children, but stealing loving glances at Buffy.

“It seems to suit them, love.”

“I think it does.”

“Now,” Spike said, standing up again and taking Ethan gently out of Buffy’s arms, “I think you and the kids need to get some sleep, love.”

Spike turned back to Buffy as soon as he had laid the infants in their cribs, and he smiled when he realized that she had probably not heard a word he said after he had taken the baby from her arms. Spike listened to her quiet, sleeping breath as he crawled into bed next to her, wrapping his arm around her form.

--

Tabitha and Timmy smiled at each other as they watched Spike hold Buffy through Tabitha’s viewing bowl. Timmy looked up at Tabitha, sipping his Martimmi.

“Does Tabby think that Spike and Buffy will be happy now that they’re mated and have the babies?”

Tabitha nodded, then sighed.

“Well, lad, I suppose it’s up to them. We can do everything that we can to help them along, and their whole ‘mating’ thing should make life easier for them, you know. But I have to tell you, being immortal is no walk in the park…that Buffy is going to have to get used to seeing everyone aside from Spike and their children grow old and die around her…it isn’t going to be easy,” Tabitha said, staring again into the small pool of water, “but I think she’ll be able to get through it.”

“Buffy is the Slayer, after all, Tabby.”

“That’s true, lad. Well, let’s see what’s going on in Harmony, shall we?”

THE END





Written in Response to Challenge 322 on BSV:

Buffy and Spike become trapped in Spike's favorite Soap, Passions. It doesn't matter if it is a spell or a demon that transports them to this world, but it CANNOT be a dream. Spike and Buffy should NOT have been together before the incident, this should be a way to get them together.

Must include
-Roses
-Jealousy
-Spike as a human (but only while in this world)
-Apperances of Spike and Buffy must change somehow
-kids
-Timmy

Others may or may not be involved, whatever is helpful.