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Author's Chapter Notes:
My apologies for leaving you hanging. Hope you enjoy this one.
Chapter Ten

Liz sat on her hill, talisman clutched in trembling hands, and prayed hard.

Night had been old in the sky when she’d finally managed to settle her guests and then slip out the front door. Spike had volunteered to watch his double and so Will had been given the full run of her house. If she didn’t trust herself—or Buffy’s ability to protect everyone under the same roof—she’d never have made it out. Liz was almost grateful to see her own double sharing her room just so that she could finally escape.

And now her body battled to ignore the chill of the air so that she could beg an unknown entity to have spared the life of her secret friend. There hadn’t exactly been the chance for interrogating Willow about any strangers that might have been nosing around her house during Liz’s dimensional absence. There’d been no knocks on the door since she’d been back, either, and she knew how Willow worked. If someone had confronted the witch about Liz’s disappearance, the result wouldn’t be pretty. Of that she had no doubt.

The talisman tingled in her palm and Liz closed her eyes and held her breath.

Did Willow kill you?

The silence lasted too long. The suspended breath was a fire in her lungs; Liz gasped and fell sideways, the pain in her heart more than she could bear. How could she have procrastinated through the night without knowing she was now totally alone?

That wasn’t true. Not strictly speaking anyway. She suddenly had a house full of people that were on her side and while the relief was dizzying, how was she going to survive when they all went back home? How was she going to survive with a cold talisman and a colder soul?

A scream was building within her body, gathering all the pain and futility and grief and preparing to blow her apart with its release. Every muscle tensed, wailing in agony at this new loss that seemed even more unfair than all the others she had suffered through. A sob came first, bulging in her throat and causing every part of her to ache.

Loss; gut-clenching debilitating loss surrounded her and Liz didn’t know how to cope. How to make the searing pain stop so she could let go her clasp on the talisman and writhe around on the ground like the shell of a girl that she was.

No, Sweetheart. I’m here.

Everything stopped: the drone of the crickets, the howls of evil from closer to town, and especially the rasping sobs wracking Liz’s collapsed frame.

It hardly felt real—the voice that had echoed in her head. The answer she’d craved had finally been given to her and she was acting like a depressive idiot that couldn’t even wait on a simple reply before she’d given in to the belief he was gone from her life. She’d had no faith in his ability to handle himself, despite knowing he was more than forearmed against the witch. What had she been thinking?

The sudden jolt of her heart pounding an erratic rhythm had Liz rushing back and she focused on the link. Testing it, though for what she didn’t know; for some reason the pause in his reply to her had her worried.

Is everything okay?

Not that it possibly could be. How could everything be okay when her life was in complete turmoil? The girl she’d gone to school with, fought demons with, talked about boys with was tied up like a criminal and her own image wore more experience as it played kissy face with a demon that Liz was programmed to kill. And said demon doing double-time in her own house, along with the twin of her power-mad friend, only this incarnation a good witch.

Everything’s just peachy. How ‘bout you? I was worried. Couldn’t find you. Thought the bitch had killed you like you was expecting.

Liz couldn’t mistake the note of petulance and disappointment she could hear in his voice. The talisman had always throbbed in her hand or in her pocket so it hadn’t occurred to her that it might not work the same way for him. She wondered if the stone would go cold if he should die; if ridding the world of him would take all life from the talisman as well?

I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you, but Willow didn’t give me any time. She said if I didn’t help in the other world then it could mean the end for our dimension as well.

The quiet stretched on again and it made Liz restless. She couldn’t stand it if he was mad at her. Even with the reinforcements from another world, Liz needed him on her side like no other.

Are you angry with me?

When had she become so weak? She shouldn’t care if her duty didn’t suit someone else’s vision of her. There were things she had to do in this world, and she’d long ago resigned herself to the fact she had little time to achieve it. There was no time for romance; no time for attachments of any kind—especially not ones that made her second guess who she was and how she acted.

No matter how much it hurt to be alone.

No, princess. ‘Least, not with you. I could cheerfully rip Red’s head off and not mourn the loss. Please let me do it. One word and she’s a footnote in history.

That was kinda more blood thirsty than usual. It was a good thing Liz knew her friend or she’d be approaching a very wiggy moment or two. Not that she could blame him. It hardly bore mentioning how terrified she’d been that without a word Willow might blink out of existence anyone who came looking for the Slayer. If she meant half as much to him as he did to her, then Liz could easily contemplate how much despair he might have encountered to arrive in Sunnydale and find her gone.

It’s okay. Willow’s kinda all tied up right now.

The thought brought a giggle to Liz’s lips and she replayed the event in her mind. Sp-Will had taken great pleasure in roping the witch up like a prize calf. His eyes had glittered with an intent satisfaction for rendering her mute, blind and immobile and Liz wondered what could possibly have motivated him to do it. Such thoughts of course leading her to contemplate when he’d had a brain transplant and made saving slayers from other dimensions a casual afternoon’s entertainment. She still had to find out what he was even doing in Sunnydale, let alone in her house. And if Willow had allowed him inside and through the portal to grab her, why had he then turned on the redhead and been the first to destroy any chance she had to cause chaos with the newcomers that had flowed through the rip?

Her head hurt.

Is that right? He replied, pushing through her diverted thoughts. And what else is happening?

What else was happening? If she only knew! How did she explain to someone that three interlopers from another world—three interlopers that just happened to be her, an apparently souled-now-but-formerly-evil-vampire and an extremely powerful witch that put this world’s Willow to shame, if just in power and emotional strength—had taken over her home and yet as bizarre as it all was, she wasn’t in any rush to send them back where they’d come from?

Spike. He’s in my house and yet I can’t stake him because he’s kind of the reason I made it back home. How is that fair?

A blast of cold hit her full in the face and Liz shuddered. Since when did it get arctic on the Hellmouth?

Maybe the bloke’s turned over a new leaf. Maybe he doesn’t go for the throat anymore.

Liz snorted.

That is so not possible. Mr. I’m-gonna-do-my-third-slayer? I think he’d rather be dust than change sides.

Something warned her that she was being extremely judgemental—that all evidence to the contrary was not only staring her in the face when she walked back through her front door, but was evidenced by the obvious love her counterpart held for the vampire in the other world. It made her feel envious that there was something possible for her future—but Spike?

Why not? Maybe killing a slayer is the last thing on his mind.

The thought gave her pause and Liz actually felt goose pimples dart over her flesh at the possibilities that suddenly sprung to life in her imagination.

She heard a husky chuckle inside her head and sighed, then his voice rumbled suggestively, Maybe he’s thought of a more satisfying way of ‘doing’ a slayer.

Okay, the tingles had burrowed under her skin now and were blasting every nerve ending to exhilarating life. Liz sighed but knew deep down that so many things had been different in her world and if she was stupid enough to expect her Spike to end up like Buffy’s super-souled Champion Spike, she’d wind up seriously dead.

Besides, she didn’t even find him the least bit attractive, and as for any other redeeming features…well, saving her life probably counted as the only one. Not that it was a bad feature to have, it just wasn’t enough. She was just lonely, seeing possibilities where none should even exist. Spike was loud, obscene, uncouth, and most importantly, a vampire. It was best she remembered that and did her duty the first available opportunity. For all she knew, Dru was holed up somewhere in town and Liz’s preoccupation was leaving many an unprotected snack in town.

Oh God, Drusilla…

Where?

There was a curious mixture of confusion, loathing and desperation in his question and Liz wondered what it could mean. Sure, she’d undoubtedly mentioned the crazy vampiress over the course of her year talking to her secret pal, but why he’d find the reappearance of the brunette to be so alarming was anyone’s guess.

It just hit me that if Spike is here, then his hobag sire probably is as well. I’m sitting here chatting to you, all comfy on my hill, and she’s probably snacking on the Hellmouth’s clueless population.

He actually chuckled—and did she fancy she heard a trace of relief in the sound?—and Liz revelled in the spread of warmth it elicited inside her.

You’ll find out one way or another, Slayer. Now, time for me to go beddy-byes.

Alarm erupted from out of nowhere and Liz jumped to her feet.

You’re leaving? But you haven’t told me where you are. Why you’re not here?

The wind whistled through the trees beyond her hill and she shivered apprehensively, waiting for the rejection she sensed was coming.

And as if her secret friend couldn’t find the words to set her mind at ease or break her spirit further, Liz felt the whisper of a kiss against her cheek and knew that he’d gone.

She’d never felt so lonely in her life.





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