The club throbbed with the heavy beat of techno music. Buffy tossed back her head, the colored flashing strobe lights blinding her vision, and she threw up her arms in a freeing motion. She gyrated her hips as the song pulsated through her veins and ignited every muscle in her body. Her partner tugged at her waist and thrust his pelvis between her legs, which was beginning to ache. She couldn’t wait for him to take her back to his place. He owned a yacht with a cozy and secluded lower deck.

She could feel envious eyes upon them. She smiled and picked up the pace. In the distance a blond head popped up in the crowd and then vanished. She didn’t even notice she had stopped moving until Ambrogio asked her what was wrong. She ignored him and kept her gaze on where she’d caught the glimpse of bleach. She hugged her arms and felt herself sway, very much not because of the song.

Ambrogio grabbed her shoulders. He spun her around to face him. He took her chin and lifted her eyes to fall into his.

“You all right, my bellezza (beautiful)?”

She parted her lips, but nothing came out. She couldn’t form a coherent thought at that moment; all she could do was feel. What she felt was her conjured fantasy world come crashing down. The music turned into a pounding cacophony of noise, the clutch on her shoulders bit deeply into her skin, and the lights burned her eyes. She jerked away. There was only one thing to do, now that reality squeezed against her heart. She ran, or at least she tried to. It was impossible with the amount of people packed together.

As she barged her way through the crowd, she opened up her neglected slayer senses. She used them to scan the club for any indication of a vampire presence. When she received none, she desperately moved onward. She made it outside. She went through the line and whipped any blond to face her. None matched. She turned to the street, gaze everywhere, not really focusing on anything now. She was acting like a mad woman, she knew, but she couldn’t seem to control herself. She halted when she heard the beep of a horn. She realized she was in the street and a bus had stopped only a few feet away. She just stared, and would have continued to do so unless the strong hand hadn’t have tugged her aside.

“Boofie,” The Immortal said in that Italian way everyone mispronounced her name. He smoothed down her hair. “What is wrong?”

She inhaled deeply. “I-I saw him! I know I saw him!” Her lower lip wobbled. And that was when she knew. She’d been waiting. It had all been an act, a show. Her real self had been hiding away, sleeping until he returned. Which she knew he would.

Ambrogio frowned. She pulled away forcefully.

“Is this that William the Bloody you speak of?” he asked bitterly.

Her eyes snapped to meet his. “How did you-?”

“You are a famous one, little slayer. Word gets out. Stories tell that you were in love with this vampire.”

“It’s true,” Buffy said. Funny how it was so easy to accept.

Ambrogio’s features hardened.

She backed up. “I-I need to go.”

“I should walk you home.”

She shook her head.

“You are sick.”

“No, not sick.” She paused. “Awake. I’m awake.” The last part was a whisper, but she could tell he had heard by his expression. He wasn’t happy by the announcement. She sort of felt bad for him, but not much. He was handsome and charming. He’d find a new woman in no time. Maybe even tonight.

Everything was clearer, even at night. The air smelled, felt, and even tasted fresh. A strength coursed through her that she hadn’t felt in almost a year. She was Buffy- the slayer. Whole. Herself. She wasn’t happy. She was hurting like hell. But it was real. It wasn’t like the false robot that had taken her place for . . . God, over five months now. The body that laughed and smiled, but never felt, just acted, did the things people expected. Not anymore. She had returned. She wasn’t hollow anymore.

Rome wasn’t home to a plethora of undead, but there were a few. She needed something to fight. She had no idea where even to look. She’d gone the last year without hunting anything. She remembered the reactions from her friends after the battle that made her choose to retire.

“You can do whatever you want now, Buffy. You could go to Egypt and study the pyramids. Or, go to Australia and play with the kangaroos. Or, go to Hawaii and get one of those drinks with the umbrellas. How does that last one sound?” Willow had said.

Giles had given her a long speech about how remarkable awakening the slayers had been. Then he listed off the remaining open hellmouths around the world before saying, “But none of them have to be guarded by you. You’ve done enough. You deserve some uh, rest and relaxation.”

Dawn must have talked to Willow because she was stuck on the travel idea. “Missy brought pictures back last summer from Rome. They were pretty. I’d really like to visit there.”

Xander, well, Xander was really quiet right afterward. Buffy caught him alone once and he said,” I guess we’re expected to move on?” He let out a sigh. “Yeah. Move on.”

Her friends really had an influence over her. She packed up her bags, moved to Rome, and started dating the Immortal. She was so good at pretending to be happy that she even fooled herself.

Buffy laughed. It wasn’t from amusement, but a sound of letting go. From now on she was going to let her actions mirror what was inside.

Since she wasn’t ready to go home and she had no destination, she wandered around. She examined the buildings and lights. Dawn had been right. Rome was a beautiful place. But, did she want to live here?

All of a sudden Buffy got a tingle on the back of her neck. She hadn’t expected to find a vamp out in public. She spotted his dark form round a corner and began to follow. She ended up near the entrance of a cemetery and decided to make her move. Her hand went to her pocket and stopped. She didn’t have a stake. When had she stopped carrying a stake? She couldn’t remember. She shrugged and walked onward.

She purposely exaggerated her steps, making sound. The vampire turned. She winced at how wimpy he looked, very bony, drowning in a trench coat. He licked his lips.

“Late for a little girl like you to be out,” he remarked.

She rolled her eyes. “Not your average girl. I’m Buffy, the vampire slayer.”

His eyes widened. “I heard you retired.”

“Just a sabbatical. I’m back in business.” She pointed at him. “Starting with you. You should feel all special or whatever.”

He turned to dash off, but she swept her leg at his feet and he fell. She jumped back, waiting for him to get to his feet. “Let’s have some fun,” she said.

“Come on,” he whined, “Let me go. I’m never going to win against you.”

“Two choices . . . What’s your name?”

“Donatello.”

She smirked. “Hmm, like the turtle? Nice to meet you, Donnie. Okay, two choices. You can either not fight and let me clobber you, or you can try your best and hope you win. Cept, I can’t let you go. Sorry, it’s a slayer code.”

He nodded and put up his fists. She began to swing. She went easy on him, giving him time to dodge now and then.

“I really did love him,” she said.

Donnie gave her a strange look. She kicked him in the stomach, which made him stumble back. “Don’t look at me that way,” she went on. “This is my therapy. “

She poured her heart out during the lame battle. She let her whole tragic love story spill out. “And so I buried it all inside so my friends wouldn’t have to worry. Inside I’ve kept this hope, though, that he’d come back. I came back. Angel came back. How many of you usually come back?”

Donatello didn’t answer at first because he was too busy attempting to see a possible opening.

“Hello, when I ask a question it is polite to answer.”

“Um. We usually just go to hell,” Donnie said.

“There isn’t anything usual about Spike.”

“Spike? The traiter?”


“Wow, Ambrogio was right. News travels fast.”

“I heard that there is a vampire named Spike working for the Wolfram and Hart branch in Las Angeles.”

Buffy slowed her moves. “What?” Her voice was small.

“Yeah. With the souled Angelus.”

“Th-That’s impossible. Andrew just made a trip there like two months ago.”

“It’s what I hear. I don’t have any proof.”

“How accurate is vamp gossip these days, Don?”

“Well, I heard that you were retired and dating the Immortal. Is that true?”

“WAS true. Nice talking to you, Donnie. I think my therapy session is complete for tonight.”

She grabbed the sides of his head and twisted. Dust scattered. Buffy stared hauntingly into the night, not sure what to do next. She sat down on the grass against the brass gates. She wasn’t sure if she should be crying or laughing. She wasn’t sure how she felt at all. It all depended on the reliability of Donatello’s statement. She’d wait to react till then.

Conjuring Tomorrow
By SinisterChic

Somehow Buffy made it to apartment 34 in a daze. She came to awareness outside the door and stared at the golden numbers. She didn’t want to go inside. She wasn’t ready to confront a Rome-loving sister and a little traitorous liar. It’d be nice to sneak inside and sleep for a solid ten hours, saving any confrontation until tomorrow.

Reminding herself that she was the slayer and could deal, she took hold of knob and turned. The living room was filled with laughter. She spotted its source on the white sofa, Dawn, chatting loudly into the cordless telephone. The teen slipped in a little Italian now and then. Buffy wondered if she was trying to show off. Dawn gave recognition to Buffy’s presence by giving her a tiny wave, and then proceeded to talk about some new male student.

Buffy stood in the entryway and examined the place she’d resided in for months. It was a little messy, but classy. Throughout the room, lights were mounted on the soft orange colored walls. They were accompanied by black and white framed photographs. Near the doorway was a table with drawers. On top, there was a lamp and a few decorative vases. In the center of the living room was a white couch, with a lamp on either end, each raised up by wooden stands. A chair matched the couch, and was placed next to it to form an ‘L’ around the coffee table.

This isn’t home, Buffy thought. The furnishings seemed foreign, alien figures to create the illusion of false-Buffy. She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to picture 1630 Revello Drive. It was crisper and clearer than the here and now. She felt that if she reached out she could grab it and pull herself back.

“Buffy?”

Her eyes snapped open. Dawn held the now off phone, herself perched on the edge of the couch cushion, and she gave Buffy her ‘Are you going weird on me?’ expression.

“You’ve been standing there for over fifteen minutes,” Dawn said.

“Oh.” Really? Fifteen.

There was a long pause.

“How was your date?” Dawn asked.

Buffy cringed.

“What was the scrunch up for?”

“Where’s Andrew?” Buffy questioned.

Dawn stood up. She crossed her arms. “Out. Don’t change the subject. Something happened tonight. What’d you do, break up?”

“Yeah.”

Buffy couldn’t read Dawn’s face. Eventually Dawn said, “Did he do something guyish to totally piss you off?”

Buffy shook her head. “No. I just . . . Dawn, can we sit together?”

Dawn hesitantly sat back down. Buffy moved to settle down, positioning herself in an angle so she could look her sister in the eye.

“It wasn’t him, it was me. I realized he wasn’t what I wanted, that’s all. I know you liked him but. . .”

Dawn made a “guh” noise and turned her head.

“What was that?” Buffy asked.

“That was a ‘how dead have you been lately?’ sound. I very much don’t like Ambrogio!”

“Huh?”

Dawn nodded. “Really. Not that I hate him exactly. I guess I like him as much as I like Riley. He was just totally wrong for you.” She shrugged. “But I can’t rule your life.”

Buffy blinked. “Okay. This is unexpected.”

“Did he throw a fit?”

“Oh yeah. Tried to make out I was sick and I’d get over it.”

Dawn laughed. “He thinks he’s God’s gift to women, you know?”

Buffy lifted one side of her mouth. “Well, he does resemble that guy who played Hercules on that show.” Buffy took a moment to think. “Hercules was the son of Zeus, right? My college deprived brain is all mixy.”

Dawn smiled. “That one I know. Yeah, he was the son of the on high.”

Buffy sighed. “You are smarter than me.”

“What are you talking about? So am not.”

“So are,” Buffy retorted. “You know Italian and culture. I know zippidy-doo-da except the location of clubs around here.”

“Which would be me too if I were twenty-one. OR, I had a major cool sister who would conform to the Italian belief that 17 is an acceptable alcohol drinking age.”

“Not gonna happen, Dawn,” Buffy said firmly.

“Why not?” Dawn whined.

“Because mom would disapprove.”

“But-“

Buffy decided to put the conversation on trajectory. “We might have to conform to new beliefs anyway.”

Dawn clearly didn’t get it.

“I’m thinking of moving,” Buffy clarified.

Dawn studied her hands. “Where?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t get it.” Dawn raised her head. “It was your idea to come here in the first place. And you were the one who was so excited to decorate the apartment. You moved on with The Immortal. It was all you.”

“All me? You picked Rome.”

“No. I said I wanted to ‘visit’ Rome. I never wanted to live here. That was all you!”

Buffy gestured to the phone still in Dawn’s hand. “What about the phone call? You sounded happy, all settled in to me. You’ve made friends here.”

“One,” Dawn said. She held up her index finger. “As in single friend. And you are one to talk. You seemed all happy-go-lucky to me too.”

“Well, I’m not!” Buffy snapped. “I’m miserable here!”

“Me too!” Dawn shouted.

They stopped and stared at each other. Then, simultaneously, they let out a long breath. Dawn smiled, which made Buffy reciprocate the action.

“I feel better,” Dawn stated.

“Diddo,” Buffy said. “God, I’m sorry.”

“It’s kinda funny actually. We both thought the other loved Rome and so we put on acts to make out we were happy here.”

“Bout sums it up,” Buffy said.

Just then Andrew came barging inside. He wore a Cheshire cat grin, his mouth very red from supposed lipstick smudge. He swayed a little and let out an exaggerated sigh.

“Ah, that’s amore,” he sang.

Buffy jumped to her feet. Andrew took one good look at her and stepped back into the wall. She must have displayed her fury visibly.

“Guess what I heard on the grape vine, Andy?” Buffy said.

Andrew cowered away. “You’re all in slayer mode again. I thought that side of you was gone. I forgot how scary you can be. You aren’t going to put a knife up to my face this time, are you?”

“Depends on how you respond to my questions. I was out slaying and heard something very interesting.”

“You were out slaying?” Dawn asked. She sounded pleased.

Buffy took a step closer. Andrew squeaked.

“I got word that a certain someone we both are acquainted with didn’t stay so dusty afterall. Did you know about this?” Buffy continued.

Dawn came up to stand next to Buffy. “What are you talking about?” Her voice wavered.

Buffy turned. “Spike’s alive, Dawn.” She turned back to look at Andrew. “Or, that’s what I heard.”

“Spike?” Dawn said in shock.

“He made me promise not to tell,” Andrew squealed.

Buffy felt more heat rise to her face. She flexed her fingers. “So, you spoke to him?”

Andrew nodded.

“What exactly did he say?”

“Which time?”

“What do you mean, which time?” Dawn shouted.

“I. . . I. . .” Andrew turned his head away.

“Speak up, or I’ll burn your Transformers collector set.”

“Ah! Not that, I just got it!”

Dawn came closer. “Well then tell us what you know.”

“I talked with him tonight,” Andrew confessed.

“Tonight?” Buffy whispered.

The world seemed to close down. He was here, or had been. That glimpse she’d caught while dancing hadn’t been a hallucination. He’d been so close.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” Andrew cried.

“And why would you think that?” Dawn demanded.

“Because. . .” Andrew glanced at Buffy. “Because Buffy never talked about Spike after- you know. And then she moved on with The Immortal. They were all cuddly on the couch and stuff. I thought she didn’t love him. Spike doesn’t deserve to be broken hearted again. He’s my role-model. He’s like major cool with the coat and the redemption. Better he didn’t see her at all.”

Buffy shut her eyes. This was all her fault. If only she could have gotten Spike to believe her in the first place . . . He’d have come back then. He’d have rushed to her side first thing. A tear escaped her eyes – the first real tear since Spike’s death.

__

Dawn took a good look at Buffy. She noticed the impact of Andrew’s words. The tear slid down Buffy’s cheek to fall slowly off her chin and then to be replaced by another. Dawn shifted her hard eyes upon their houseguest with a glare.

Andrew pressed himself into the wall.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Dawn yelled. Andrew jumped.

They deserved to be happy. Well, maybe not Spike, she hadn’t quite forgiven him quite yet, but Buffy definitely did. She stared down at Andrew as if he were an ant.

“I wish you could know what you’ve done. What you’ve taken away from MY SISTER!”

The pictures rattled on the walls. Andrew gazed around in panic. “Does Rome have earthquakes?” he asked.

She ignored him. “If you could only see how perfect they are for each other.”

Then she noticed the green, swirling mass of green right where Andrew had been. A roaring sound that resembled a train filtered into the apartment. She gasped. Buffy grabbed her shoulders and spun her around.

“What did you do?” Buffy asked loudly.

“I-I’m not sure.”

“I think you’ve made a portal.” Buffy scrutinized Dawn. “You aren’t bleeding, are you?”

Dawn shook her head. She glanced down to be sure. “No.”

“You have to stop it!”

“How?” Dawn asked.

Buffy looked at the green mist for a long while. “Do you think . . .?”

Dawn was quick to shake her head. “NO!”

Buffy’s face softened. “Do you think we should call Willow?”

“Oh.” Dawn relaxed. “Yeah. That would be good.”

Buffy reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind Dawn’s ear. “There aren’t any demons coming out, Dawn. I won’t do anything rash unless I have to.”

All of a sudden the roar stopped. Both girls searched for the portal, but it was gone.

“Wow,” Dawn said. “Guess we don’t have to rush in calling Willow after all.”

“What about Andrew?”

“Can’t we leave him?”

Buffy smiled. “As tempting as that sounds . . .”

Dawn groaned. She looked down to discover she’d dropped the phone. She picked it up and waved it around. “I got it. Rescue mission on its way.”

Conjuring Tomorrow

Heather Martin

Chapter 3

The conversation with Willow was short and sweet. Dawn hung up the phone and turned toward Buffy. “Willow’s on her way,” she declared.

Just then, a steamy mist arose in the room. Buffy jumped back, going into a battle stance. The vapor cleared and Willow assembled in its place.

“Hey, guys!”

Dawn gaped. “When you said you’d be here in a jiffy . . .”

Buffy let herself relax. “Nice party trick, Wills.” She smiled and gave the witch a hug. Dawn got in on the action as well.

“Sorry about the Anya impersonation,” Willow said. There was an awkward silence. “I just . . . It sounded important and . . .” She frowned. “I had to get away from Kennedy ASAP. I sort of bailed.”

“Oh,” Buffy said. She could understand why someone would need distance from the brat. She decided to be polite and kept her dislike to herself. “Are you guys having problems? I’ve been such a bad friend lately. I don’t know what you’ve been dealing with.”

Willow shook her head. “No, I’m the bad friend! I haven’t called in ages.”

“But I didn’t give you a reason to call,” Buffy insisted.

Rolling her eyes, Dawn said, “I’ll settle this. You’ve both been bad friends. Let’s move on, shall we?”

They all smiled.

“Missed you bunches of bunch,” Willow said.

They shared another group hug. Buffy closed her eyes, a sense of home washing over her, but then she realized there was someone missing. She pulled back.

“Have you heard from Xander?” Buffy asked.

Willow’s face darkened. “No. Just the one letter.”

“He’s still playing Tarzan then? What is it with men running off to the jungle when things get rough?” Buffy muttered.

Last word they’d received, Xander was doing some soul searching in Africa of all places. Soul searching? Interesting choice of words, Buffy thought, as her mind traveled to another person who’d done the same thing there- quite literally.

“Riley,” Willow said with understanding.

Buffy was about to falsely nod when Dawn said, “I think she was referring to Spike.”

There was another awkward silence, similar to the one after mentioning Anya’s name. Buffy looked down at her clasped hands. For a moment she forgot the news she’d received. Her heart squeezed in her chest, but then the vise loosened and she lifted her eyes. He was alive. There was no need for this mourning session the three of them were performing.

“Spike’s alive,” Buffy declared.

“Wh- Buffy . . . I don’t . . .” Willow stammered.

“He’s been alive for months apparently,” Dawn said with hurt.

“Working for Wolfram and Hart,” Buffy included dryly.

Willow snatched Buffy’s arm. “Buffy, oh my God! You’ve got to go to him!”

“Huh?” Buffy blinked.

“We can handle things here with Andrew. I can beam you to where he is.”

Why was Willow acting so eager for her to reunite with Spike? She’d tried to show little more than lost comrade mourning for the vampire. Had she failed?

“I know you love him, Buffy,” Willow confirmed.

Buffy froze. For some reason the thought of her friends knowing about her feelings frightened the hell out of her. The first inclination she had was to deny it, but she’d promised herself that was done with.

“How did you know?” she finally questioned.

“I’m not a doofus,” Willow said with a laugh. “I caught on back with your date with Principle Wood. ‘Why does everybody think I’m still in love with Spike?’ ring any bells?”

“Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.” She found it hard to breath. She made it to the couch and sat down.

“Are you okay?” Dawn asked, worried.

“I’m not sure,” Buffy choked.

“I’m okay with it. It’s Xander you got to worry about, not me,” Willow assured. “Not that I’m going to become a member of the Spike fanclub today.” She gave her resolve face. “He hid from you. Big meanie vamp.”

“Moron,” Dawn added.

Buffy leaned heavily into the cushions. She needed support. “Yeah.”

“But despite that, needing to go, now.” Willow did some gestures with her hands. Buffy assumed they were supposed to represent her heading off to Las Angeles.

Buffy sat up. She shook her head. “No.”

“What?” Dawn and Willow chimed.

“No,” Buffy repeated. “I’ll deal with Spike later. He’s waited a year to tell me he’s been back; he can sure wait a few more days for me to clear my head over it.”

“Not such a bad idea,” Dawn said. “You making him all dusty again would defeat the purpose of knowing he’s back.”

After a moment, Buffy decided it was time to get to business. Need to get my mind off this betrayal, she thought.

Buffy pointed to her sister. “So, little miss key here, made a portal that sucked Andrew up.”

Willow widened her eyes. “I’m really impressed. I don’t have portals down yet.”

“Um, neither do I,” Dawn said. “It was an oops. Please help.”

“I’ll try. Do you have any idea where you sent him. Any idea at all?”

“I was really mad. I’m thinking some place with lots of mayhem and chaos.”

Buffy crossed her arms. “I better grab my weapons then.”

Willow sighed. She moved the coffee table and sat down in the center of the room, Indian-style. She placed her palms up on her knees. “We’re going to have to do this the hard way. Which is going to take awhile, I’m afraid. Better make some coffee.”

“What do you have to do?” Dawn asked, her voice wavering. She looked genuinely sorry about the Andrew thing for the first time.

“I have to go through each dimension one-by-one.”

“What!?” squeaked Dawn.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds, Dawnie,” Willow said. “I don’t have to check the human inhabitable ones.” Willow paused and bit her lip. “Or do I?”

Dawn began to pace in a panic. “What have I done?” she cried.

“Calm down,” Buffy demanded.

“Calm down? Calm down! I’ve killed him!” Dawn shrieked. At the sight of Dawn’s tear-streaked face, Buffy rushed to her side. She stilled her, crushing her body to hers.

“You don’t know this,” Buffy said.

Dawn’s lips wobbled. “But I could have. I didn’t mean to. Honest. I was just mad. He lied to us.”

“I know, honey.”

Dawn clung to Buffy. “I wish I knew where I sent him.” She squeezed her eyes shut.

The air crackled. A green glow sparked before Willow. The witch scooted back with a yelp.

“Well, if wishes were horses,” Buffy said, turning Dawn around.

Dawn opened her eyes and gasped.

The vortex spun like a whirlpool suspended in thin-air. Willow stood up and gave it great consideration.

“It’s kind of pretty,” Willow said.

Which was true. Once in awhile Buffy thought she caught a fleck of gold in the mass.

“Wish me luck,” Buffy said.

“I don’t think so!” Dawn said. “If anyone is going, it’s me.”

“Your job is to create these things, not jump through.”

“And that worked out so well before.”

“Um, guys . . .” Willow said.

Both girls switched attention to the portal. It had begun to loose intensity.

“How do you know it’s the same one Andrew is in?” Dawn challenged.

“Going to find out.”

“I change my mind. Let’s leave him there.”

Buffy searched Dawn’s gaze. “You know I can’t do that.”

“What if- What if I can’t get you out?”

Buffy touched Dawn’s cheek. “I believe in you.”

And with that, Buffy stood face to face with the portal. It wasn’t as large now and had lost velocity. There wasn’t much time. Buffy held her breath and leapt through. Here goes nothing, she thought.

________


“Would you like another cookie?”

“Mmm, yes please!”

Buffy tumbled onto something that felt very much like linoleum. “Oomph.”

“Oh, no, it’s the mean Buffy!”

Buffy lifted her head, trying to control the wooziness. She let her eyes focus . . . on Andrew . . . and herself?

Conjuring Tomorrow

By SinisterChic

Chapter 4

Buffy eyed her surroundings, dubiously. She picked herself up from the white tiled floor. She realized that she was in a kitchen. Stools were placed against a green wrap-around counter. The sink was embedded into it, dishes and pans piled inside. It looked like someone had just got done baking. On the other side were the appliances. Wooden cabinets were placed on all sides of the room. It was clean and stylish. Buffy grabbed onto a stool to keep herself from toppling back to the linoleum.

"Oh, good, you’re here. You can convince him to go home," she heard ‘herself’ say. "I really couldn’t handle two Andrews in this t-dimension. One is enough, thank you very much."

"Hey!" protested Andrew.

"No offense." She patted the man on the top of his head.

The words came at a distance. Buffy didn’t want to look over. It was too freaky. She forced herself to acknowledge the double after she had composed herself with a few hearty breaths. The other Buffy sat with a smile at a wooden round table beside Andrew. She seemed younger somehow. There were no circles under her eyes and her green eyes sparkled with delight instead of murk. Her skin had a natural light tan. Her face was rounder, her arms less bony, and she had a little extra weight in the rest of her to expel the rough edges. Buffy felt a tinge of jealousy. This Buffy appeared to be healthy and happy – and a pleasing cook because Andrew finished another cookie and went for another one.

The second Buffy gave him a half-serious stern look. "That’s your last one. I made these especially for Wesley."

"You made cookies for our ex-watcher?" Buffy, the Buffy-Buffy, said without thinking it over.

The other Buffy burst out laughing. She held her stomach, the giggles coming out freely. Buffy couldn’t remember the last time she was able to have such a fit.

"No no no," the care-free Buffy said. She wiped away the tears that formed in her eyes from amusement. "Wesley, my son."

Buffy froze. What came out was a simple, "Oh."

Her eyes traveled past the table to a sliding glass door that led outside to a hill. At the bottom stood a blue swing set in a patch of sunny grass. She was a mommy . . . well not her, but the other her.

"Sorry about the shock factor," she heard herself say.

"Where am I?" Buffy asked.

"My house," Buffy number 2 replied. "Well, not ‘my’ house. My husband pays the bills. My name is just written beside his."

"You’re married?" Andrew said. "Wow."

Buffy wanted out of here now! She couldn’t stick around to find out what other jollies this Buffy had stolen from her. Okay, she knew she was thinking irrationally. But wasn’t there a rule or something that said that if one dimension gets something another had to do without?

Buffy went over and snatched up Andrew by his left arm. "Come on. We have to get back somehow."

"I don’t wanna go!" Andrew whined. "You never give me cookies."

"I’ll buy you a whole box."

"They won’t be all gooey and warm."

Buffy groaned.

The other her fought not to giggle. Why was everything so damn hilarious to the other slayer (‘if’ she was a slayer at all in this place)? This was a serious matter. Didn’t she have any compassion for the dimension hopping double?

"I’ll call Dawn," the second Buffy offered.

"I don’t think I need to meet another Dawn. I need to get back," Buffy said.

The second Buffy took up the receiver of a mounted phone. "That’s why I’m calling. She can set up a portal in no time."

Buffy frowned. "Your sister can make portals at will?"

The other Buffy nodded. "Why don’t you sit down and have a cookie? I’ll do the work. You relax."

Buffy slowly sat down. It felt good to take the weight off. Andrew glanced at what he thought of as the good Buffy. When he saw she was preoccupied with the call, he grabbed another chocolate chip cookie.

Buffy put her head down. Maybe she could block it all out.

"Okay, she’s on her way. It’ll be a few moments. She lives across town," second Buffy stated.

Just then the door next to the table, which probably led to the garage, flew open. Buffy lifted her head. A small boy with dark brown hair charged past her without a glance and flew at the second Buffy. He held her legs.

"Mommy, we home!"

"I see that." The other Buffy leaned down and hugged her son. "Did you have a good time?"

He nodded with enthusiasm. "Uh huh! We gots to see the planes." He held something small up. "Daddy buy this for me."

"Oh, he ‘bought’ you a little model plane."

"It can move. Look." Wesley got down on the floor. He rolled the plane across the linoleum floor.

"I like your shirt," Andrew blurted.

Wesley turned to the table for the first time. He wore a blue shirt with a picture of a flying Spiderman.

"Thanks, Uncle Andrew."

"Uncle?" Andrew muttered. He looked over at Buffy. "Uncle?"

Wesley spotted the mother-look-alike and backed up. He looked behind to his real mommy. "Why there two of yous?"

"It’s okay, Wes," Buffy number 2 assured. "Remember when Uncle Xander told you that story about how there were two of him?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, the same thing happened now. Meet mommy and Uncle Andrew the second. Auntie Dawn is coming over to take them home soon."

Wesley studied them for a long moment, especially Buffy. He stepped over, a little unsure. He stopped just before Buffy’s seat. "You look just like my mommy. Very pretty."

Buffy parted her lips.

He shoved the toy plane in her face. "Look what Daddy buy me."

A warm tear slid down Buffy’s face. The other her noticed and then showed the compassion Buffy had been seeking earlier. She took her son’s hand, gave Buffy an apologetic look, and gently tugged him toward the kitchen/dining room exit.

"Come on, Wes, I think your cartoon is on."

Buffy had no time to recover before the door opened again. What she saw made her close and open her eyes a few times. She had to be seeing things.

"Buffy, I’m home!" he called in a ‘Lucy’ fashion.

The other Buffy came in, rolling her eyes. Spike swaggered up to her, dipped her like they were doing the tango, and gave her a kiss that was all gone with the wind. He set his wife back on her feet, but she swayed a little. She playfully hit him in the chest.

"You, goof!"

His hand went to her stomach. "How are my girls?"

"For the last time, might be a boy."

"Nah, Summers always have girls. Good thing we got Wes the way we did or I’d never have my strong strapping boy."

"Oh, that’s why Buffy is chubby," Andrew said in inappropriateness.

The married couple turned. Spike met Buffy’s eyes, realizing she was there for the first time. His blue gaze bore into her. She took in his tanned skin, the way his chest rose with air. Too much, too much! Buffy jumped to her feet. The chair scooted back and made a loud scrape against the floor.

Spike took a step toward Buffy. He tilted his head curiously. "Buffy?"

There was only one way out. Buffy bolted for the sliding glass door. She ran down the hill, almost loosing her balance and tumbling down. She made it to the slide of the swing set and settled down at the bottom. The sun beamed down, encasing her in bright warmness. This whole place was blinding white, where her world was gray. She was like Dorothy stepping into Oz. She never got that movie. How could Dorothy go back to a place that was so drab after she’d seen the color?

She slumped over, putting her face in her hands. She let herself go, sobbing. She remained like that for who knows how long. Then she heard footsteps, and two black boot tips stopped before her in the freshly mowed grass.

"Times like these make me regret giving up the smokes."

His voice was deep, full of emotion, accented, rich, powerful, and just the way she remembered. His vocal chords seemed to let out his entire essence. It was like climbing out of the deep chasm that had separated them for months. She wanted to reach out, to touch him, pull him to her, and take him in. But he wasn’t hers.

Buffy wouldn’t look up, she decided. He’d look the same as her Spike- but not. This Spike was human and husband to another her.

"I get the waterworks, pet. Sorry for rubbing in the marital bliss. I take it you aren’t all rainbows and sunshine where you come from?"

"Try total badness with an added touch of doom and gloom."

"Come now, slayer, can’t be that grim."

He moved over to the swing. She lifted her head, keeping it forward. She saw herself spying from inside the house.

"How would you know? From the looks of things I bet you guys were love at first sight. My Spike denied my love and then he died. I waited too long to realize it. I had my friends make me feel like I should be moving on lickedy-split. So, I fake it. And then I hear through evil creature of the night gossip that he’s been back all this time and didn’t care to tell me. It isn’t a picnic seeing you two love birds when my Spike clearly doesn’t love me anymore." She stared at her clasped hands.

"Bollocks."

Her hands began to shake. She clasped them tighter.

"Impossible not to love you, pet. . . No matter what version."

She turned her head to find his vision glued at her. He drank her in. She saw the love her Spike had displayed back in Sunnydale. Was he right? If she tracked down her own Spike, would she find those eyes, or ones of indifference?

They just stared at each other for a moment.

Finally Spike cleared his throat. "Probably scared is all. Afraid of rejection. Rather keep his distance to be safe. Better to live in the dream that you meant it instead of finding the truth if it told otherwise."

Hope. He was offering her an explanation that gave her something to hold onto. With that, he got to his feet and held out his hand to her.

"Dawn arrived right before I came out here. You ready to go home and make right what’s gone wrong?"

She examined his hand. "Did you have to work at it? Was it all boom like lightning, or did you have to earn your happiness like building a bridge to get there?"

Spike smirked. "Bridge. Piece by bloody piece. Went through a lot that I figure you did."

"And now you’re here. All human and a daddy."

He grinned with pride. "Won it all fair and square. Git of a grandsire still workin on his ever after. May take him another century or two."

"You think I can build a bridge to where you are?"

He paused. "Well, I can’t answer that. Your destination is your own. But if you got your heart on building a bloody bridge . . . God, slayer, you and your analogies." He chuckled. "I bet my life that a bleached blond vamp will be right there to hand you materials."

She nodded and took his hand.