“Ow…” moaned Buffy as she came to.
Her eyes flickered open and she gazed blankly up at the sky.
She lay there like that for a minute or so, admiring the swirl of colours across the sky above her. Then she sat up – a little too quickly for her throbbing head’s liking – and gently touched the side of her skull.
It stung and Buffy tried to remember what had happened what must have been a few hours ago.
Then a rush of images flew past her eyes as she recalled every detail of the previous night’s events.
Demon, Mausoleum, Spike, Fight, Ouchie, Sunrise…. Sunrise!
Buffy’s stomach jolted as she remembered that her mother was expecting her. And that she had been out all night.
“Oh crap. I’m gonna be grounded ‘til after I graduate. From COLLEGE!”
She shakily got to her feet and surveyed the area. The mausoleum had seemingly repaired itself overnight.
‘That’s weird. I’m pretty sure that Spike demolished that last night. Wait. Where is that Billy Idol wannabe anyway? That little weasel! He just left me here! No hold on that’s a good thing, soooo don’t need him asking awkward questions or suddenly deciding to kill me.’
Buffy’s confused thoughts carried on as she walked through Restfield Cemetery, and through the streets of Sunnydale.
The sun began to peek over the horizon when Buffy got to 1630 Revello Drive, 20 minutes after she woke up. She was in the middle of practising an excuse to tell her mother.
“Okay, um… ‘Mom, I got mugged and bludgeoned in the head last night. Can you get me out of French today?’, No that won’t work.”
Buffy walked in through the always-open front door, into the hall and up the stairs. She checked her watch.
The time read 6.55 am, her mother should have woken up about half an hour ago.
“Mom?” asked Buffy opening her mother’s bedroom door.
The room was just as she had left it last night, strange tribal decorations on side tables and shelves.
“Mom? You here?” she asked again, looking around the room.
Buffy walked over to the bed, looking out towards the window.
Her sensitive hearing picked up the soft padding of someone walking in through the open door.
She turned to face the new comer and the sore side of her head exploded with agony again as the force of something smashing into the side of her head caused her to spin onto the bed.
As she lay dazed and blinking heavily, she looked at her attacker.
Spike was standing there, sans game face and holding a baseball bat.
Buffy’s eyes widened with fear and as she blacked out she thought:
“How did he get into my house?”
~+~
-MEANWHILE, BACK IN BUFFY’S REAL HOMEWORLD…-
Whistler stood at the front door of one Rupert Giles.
He tried the doorbell again.
A moment later, the muffled sound of “Yes I’m coming!” in an experated British accent came through the door.
Whistler smiled at that.
The door opened to reveal a tired looking man in his 40s with glasses.
“What do you want?” he asked briskly.
“Well hi to you too Watcher.”
Giles paled slightly and immediately asked, “Where have you taken her?”
“I didn’t take her anywhere buddy. The Powers That Be instructed me to help find a certain Buffy Summers, also known as the Slayer.”
“You are in contact with the Powers? What do you know of her disappearance?”
Whistler held up his hands in mock surrender.
“Hey, hey, slow down. All we know is that she has completely vanished from the radar, and there are very few things that can do that. Door number one says something’s taken her and blocked whatever signals a slayer gives out, and door number two says that she’s in a parallel world. I’m thinkin’ that it’s door number two.”
Giles took of his glasses and began to clean them absent-mindedly.
“Dear Lord.” Was all he said.
“Yeah I know. I already did a scout of the area she was last seen. The demon that took her killed himself rather than reveal it’s little secret.”
Giles looked at Whistler and put his glasses back on.
“A F’laytboi demon?” he asked.
“Yup. Problem is, I think he disguised the portal so we have no idea where we could get access to wherever she is from.”
Giles narrowed his eyes at Whistler.
“I thought the Power’s direct servants could teleport anywhere Mr?”
“Call me Whistler and I can only teleport when I know where I’m going.”
Giles thought for a moment and then pulled open the door for Whistler to come in through.
“I’m sorry. But manners go out of the window when I’m stressed. Please come in Mr Whistler.”
“It’s just ‘Whistler’ Mr Giles.” Said Whistler as he walked through the doorway.
“I apologise, Whistler.” He replied with a sad smile, “And you may call me Rupert.”
“Thanks Rupert. Now let’s take a look at the facts. Buffy tried to fight the F’laytboi demon and was sent to an alternate universe. Now the thing with F’laytboi demons is-“
“That if two people are sent through the portal that it opens then they are in a universe in which the victims are in each other’s places.”
“And if Buffy’s been sent through with someone else then there will be two Buffys and two of whoever-it-was.”
“And there lies the question.” Sighed Giles, their mutual brainstorm finishing their conclusion.
“ Who got sent with her? I think I have an idea. Of who it was because my boss told me to find two people. And those two people happen to be a Slayer and a vampire.”
“Angel?” asked Giles hopefully.
“Nope, he said that they were enemies, I mean the Voice is a great guy stroke girl but y’know, the Big V can be a little vague at times. I just played along that I knew who the hell he was talkin’ about.”
“Do we know the gender of this vampire?” sigh Giles.
“Uh, male. And alive cause it can’t be the Master.”
“That leaves us with one option. The Grandchilde of Angelus, Childe of Drusilla, and youngest of the Master’s bloodline, William the Bloody also known as Spike.”
“Spike? As in peroxide hair, lower class British accent and Billy Idol outfits?”
“Well I don’t know about the outfits but from Buffy’s descriptions of him as being an, and I quote, ‘Billy Idol Wannabe’, then yes. I suppose so.”
Whistler, well, whistled.
“Slayer of Slayers huh? I knew his second Slayer. Nice girl. She lived long enough to have a son.”
“Spike is the one that killed Nikki Wood?” said Giles in shock.
“Yeah. The longest-lived Slayer so far and she died at age 21.”
“Good Lord.”
“You say that a lot doncha?” said Whistler, smirking good-naturedly at the older man.
“How very droll that you noticed.” Came the cold reply.
“Anyways, so whadda we do?” asked Whistler.
“We get the entire research group together, tell Joyce Summers about her daughter’s extra-curricular activities and find Buffy Summers!”
~+~
A/N- Hmm, so the gang back home have the perfect plan to get one Buffy Summers home. So the question on everyone’s mind now is: WHERE IS OUR VERSION OF SPIKE??? Tune in next time to find out!!!!
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