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I'm trying to reply to each reviewer, so thanks for the encouragement.
Below the Surface

Buffy turned to Tara after cradling the receiver. "It's almost midnight. Why don't we get the useless books put back? I want to get some sleep, and Dawn and I have our daily breakfast date in the morning."

"Good idea. I have a test on Mythical Figures of Industrial Cultures tomorrow, but I can help after."

"A test on who's of what's? You know, sometimes I am glad NOT to be schooling it. Even if it is just for now." She shook her head as the test's title jumbled in her head. "Oh, and Tara, thanks. I know I have been a pain, but really, Thank You."

Tara smiled. "Well, Spike punched me once." She thought about her family coming to get her more than a year ago. "I guess I owe it to him to give you an excuse to...you know?" she finished with a wiggle of her eyebrows and a stifled giggle.

Buffy shook her head at her friend and the two cleared the table of all but ten or so books, Spike's diary, and the file-box. They strode to the door and stepped outside into the cool night air.

"I'm going to have to get here early if the Council took me seriously," Buffy said as Tara locked up and handed Buffy the keys.

"I'm pretty sure they did, Buffy. I don't think anyone could have taken that tone of voice as a joke."

"Was I that bad?"

"Not so bad, just...well, I sure woulda' listened," Tara smiled.

"Oh, and Buffy? I think they deserve a bit of the yelling. It's the whole rebelling Slayer thing. I think they expect it now."

"Yeah, probably would have just asked a lot of questions if I had said please." She took a breath of the night air. "Tomorrow then?"

"About one in the afternoon?" Tara confirmed.

"I'll be here," Buffy answered. And the two ladies headed for their respective homes.

Buffy decided to take the scenic route, the one that passed by Spike's crypt. Her thoughts wandered to all she had discovered so far. It wasn't much. Just because a Vamp didn't try to kill a Slayer said very little. As a matter of fact, it only showed they were damn smart Vampires. To date, only one Vampire had been able to kill a Slayer one on one.

The descriptions of the Vampires in the diaries had all been different. Medium build, large build. Blonde hair, black hair. Australian accent, German accent. There was no doubt that the few Vampires who had not at least tried to kill the Slayers were not the same one, and in no way could they be Spike. For some reason that was also important to her. After all, Spike was her Vampire. "I did not just think that," she chastised herself out loud.

His crypt was in sight and she tuned her senses to pick up any 'Spike' vibes.

Nothing.

Buffy opened the door to his crypt. It was most definitely empty. 'Damn.'

She turned and began walking out the door when a piece of brown paper caught her eye.

It had gotten wedged under the crypt's door. Buffy closed the door to reveal the rest of the paper and a box that had been hidden by the open door. "Someone sent Spikey a pwesent," she joked.

There was nothing inside, and she tossed the box back behind the door. She noticed that the brown wrapping paper had Spike's name on it, but no address.

"Well, exactly how would you come up with an address for a crypt?" she laughed. "To the remains of Mr. John Doe, C.O. Doe Crypt." The laughter that followed was tense and shaky.

'I really better get home and get some sleep.' With that Buffy began her trek home and tried once again to make sense of meager clues and hints. She entered her house after unlocking the door, then promptly locked it up once again. Before she went to her room she stopped to make sure her sister was sleeping.

She was.

Buffy quickly showered, peeked in on Willow, assured herself that her best friend was sleeping soundly as well, and curled up in her own bed.

Buffy lay in her bed for the next three hours hoping to sense Spike, but there was nothing.

It definitely had to do with the box she had decided.

Slowly she dozed off.

~~`~~

Angel had been thinking in the dark void that surrounded him. He finally gave in to impatience. "Hey, Powers! You do remember you had us called here don't you? No offense, but this whole 'dark demon hell dimension thing' is really starting to bother me," he said out loud, but did not hear his voice.

Too dark. Too dark.

Memories of his last stop in hell began to invade his mind in droves.

'I can't smell anything, I can't see...no taste in the air. I can't feel.'

"No. NO. NO!!"

Terror bore into every crevice.

"NOOO!!"

~~`~~

Spike took a look around at absolutely nothing. "Well this is all dark and dank. I never was a patient one."

"Nice trick," he said impressed. "If a Spike talks in the dark, but no one is there to hear him, does he make a sound? Guess not."

"We gonna get on with this or not?" he mutely screamed.

'sigh'

"Aw' right. Got li'tle else to do." Spike rethought that last line.

"Ok, maybe the Slayer."

And the darkness surrounded him while thoughts of his Slayer 'drowned' him.

A few minutes later, he was sleeping soundly.

~~`~~

After a time, although he had no way of knowing how much, Angel quit screaming. The pain in his throat was not the reason he had stopped. Somehow screaming for all he was worth and not being able to hear a thing made him decide to pull himself together.

Just as he calmed down he felt a 'pull' throughout his entire body and found himself sitting on a dirt floor. Darkness still surrounded him, but only until his demon came forward. He was in a cavern, it was cool...and damp. The walls and ceiling were rock. He was sure that he was below a lake, or a stream. The water running above him had a white noise effect.

Angel let all of his senses begin to work once he knew he was on solid ground again. Then
it hit him. Her scent once again.

"Buff-...Spike, where are you?" he whispered into the dark.

There was no answer so he took a better look around. There, about ten feet away, was a slumbering Spike with an extremely content smile plastered to his face. Angel tried very hard not to accidentally rip his grand-childe's head off as he grabbed Spike's shoulder and shook him...maybe just a little harder than necessary.

"Bloody 'ell!! Trying to give a bloke whiplash probably ain't one o' the tests mate," Spike said sarcastically. Then he stood up slowly, hoping to be able to pick up on that particular 'Buffy dream' later.

Spike's demon revealed itself as he tried to take a look at his present location. "We in a cave?" he asked, looking at Angel with confusion, both still in demon form.

Angel decided inwardly that he could kill Spike after they figured out where they were.

"More like a cavern, there's water running just above us." The elder Vampire walked to one side and laid a hand flatly against the rock wall then dropped it to his side. "Spike, do you smell anything? Anything other than you, me...or your duster?" He kept his anger just below the surface.

Spike knew that if they were not in their current situation, he would most likely be fighting not to resemble the contents of an ashtray and decided to ignore Angel's anger and work with him as easily as he could. "Not a thing, smells...smells like nothing. It's not bad, but I don't even smell the rock, or the dirt we're standin' on."

Angel sighed and let Spike in on what he was slowly concluding. "Wherever we are supposed to be, we're here. The only other times I have ever noticed lack of scent was while visiting the PTBs."

"So, you've been 'ere before?"

"Not here, but I have had the oh-so-wonderful privilege of dealing with them before."

That recollection had him reeling in his anger even more.

"Well, what do we do now?" Spike asked.

A pair of extremely familiar voices answered. "Finally, a good question." Then the second voice. "Jeez, I thought you two were just going to ask dumb ones all night."

The two Vampires turned their heads to stare in wonderment at not one, but two Buffys.

The first Buffy that had spoken was staring at Angel. She wore blue jeans, a light pink cotton blouse, and a leather jacket that he immediately recognized. He eyed a silver cross hanging from her neck and a silver ring with the heart pointed towards her on her hand.

"Buffy?"

At the same time Spike was staring down what had to be his Buffy. Clad in black leather from her boots to her jacket. All but the black tank top. No cross around her neck, no ring on her dainty finger. Her newly clipped hair hung above her shoulders. "Buffy?"

The question asked in unison caused the now very confused Vampires, to break away their stares at the Buffys.

Angel and Spike traded glances as they looked over both of the girls.

"Where's her cross?" Angel asked Spike while eying 'leather' Buffy.

"She hardly ever wears one." Spike took a closer look at the one that the first Buffy was wearing. "That one? I don't remember it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, mate. Why?"

"I gave it to her." Angel closed his eyes and looked down, then back up at the second Buffy. "She looks so different."

"She is," was all Spike could say.

"Ok, guys. We done here?" Spike's Buffy asked.

"I know I am," the first one answered while walking up to Angel and grasping his hands.

"You're with me."

And with that Angel and his Buffy vanished.

With Angel gone, Spike looked over to the remaining Buffy. "OK. So how's this thing work?" he asked while picking out a smoke and lighting it. "Do I just make me wish and wait 'ere or what?"

Buffy's face went from 'straight forward' to 'you have got to be kidding me'.

"I take that as a no then, eh'?" He smirked while pocketing his lighter.

The tone of Buffy's voice became serious. "Young Vampire William, what would you wish for?"

Spike was quiet. Something else came to him, but he put that thought in the back of his brain and answered with fervor, "To get this soddin' chip out of my 'ead."

"Of course. A neutered Vampire is a boring Vampire," Buffy laughed.

Spike's eyes turned cold on this clone of his Slayer. "Boring? Bloody Hell!!"

"Boring...Bloody Hell," the clone mimicked. "I want the soddin' chip out," followed by more giggling.

Spike just watched her. She looked too much like the Slayer, laughed like her. He knew that she would banter with him about his English slang on occasion. But this was not his Buffy, and things were too important to banter. Curiosity, amusement, impatience, and anger filled his features.

"William, I ask you what you wish for, and your first thought is the chip?"

"Yeah."

"Disappointing, this could take some time."

"What time? I made my wish."

"You did not," she stated simply.


Chapter End Notes:
Now it's really starting up. Thanks for reading.



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