**~** Cooties **~**


Buffy was sitting on the couch watching TV with Annie when Anya and Xander walked into the mansion. Anya barely made it through the door when she excitedly announced, "I HAVE MADE LIFE!"


Buffy looked up at her in confusion. A scene from an old movie ran through her mind . . . a wild-eyed Gene Wilder was exclaiming, "ALIVE! IT'S ALIVE! IT'S AALLIIIVVVE!" as he looked down on his creation.


{{
See what Buffy’s seeing in her mind at the following YouTube Link:
YOUTUBE Young Frankenstein – It’s Alive!
}}



Buffy smiled. Shaking the thought from her mind, she asked, "What?"


Bouncing over to Buffy, Anya grabbed her in a hug. "I . . . NO . . . WE HAVE MADE LIFE!" Buffy looked over Anya's shoulder to Xander and raised her eyebrows begging him to tell her what his wife was talking about.


"We're pregnant," Xander offered with a smile. "Or, Anya is, at any rate," he amended, waving his arm towards his wife.


“Oh! You guys!!” Buffy exclaimed, returning Anya’s hug. “That’s so great!!” When Anya pulled away, Buffy grabbed Xander in a hug.


“OI! Harris! Thought we’d established that’s my girl,” Spike said as he walked in from training room to see what the commotion was. As soon as he appeared, Anya ran over and flung herself at him, catching him in a bear hug.


“WE MADE LIFE!” she told Spike.


“WHAT!?” he exclaimed as a quick flash of a dreamy memory skittered across his brain.


Quickly extricating himself from her arms, he said, “WE haven’t made anythin’!”


“What?” Anya asked, confused. Waving her arm at Xander, she said, “We made life! I’m going to increase the population of this already overtaxed, polluted and overcrowded planet! Isn’t that wonderful!?”


Spike let out a sigh. “Oh! Yeah, that’s bloody brilliant.”


“Didn’ know you had it in ya’, Harris,” Spike smirked at Xander but extended his hand to congratulate him with a hand shake as Xander approached him.


“Well, if you could do it . . .” Xander shrugged with a small smile.


“Annie! What do you think?” Buffy asked her daughter. “Would you like a girl cousin or a boy cousin?”


“Boys have cooties!” Annie informed them. “No boys!”


“What about Papa? Does he have cooties?” Buffy smiled as she cut her eyes at Spike.


“He’s not a boy!” Annie retorted.


Xander raised his eyebrows. “Spike, there something you want to tell us, man?”


Spike rolled his eyes. “Don’ you know anythin’, you git? Father’s don’t have cooties. Boys have cooties! And, if we’re lucky, they’ll continue to have cooties ‘til she’s thirty!”


Buffy laughed. “Yeah, right, Papa. Just wait until she’s about twelve. As I recall, boys shed their cooties at about that age . . .”


“PFFFTT!” Spike snorted. “We’ll get Red to do a spell so the cooties stay in place well past bloody TWELVE!”


**~** Genes **~**


“Spike, I know you drove to the grocery store, but who actually did the shopping? You or Annie?” Buffy asked as she unpacked the grocery bags that Spike had brought in from the car.


“What’dya mean?” he asked, innocently.


“Well, we have Fritos, Tostitos, Cheetos and Doritos . . . so, I guess that covers the ‘toes’ food group,” Buffy started. “Then we have the Hersey’s kisses, Reese’s cups, Almond Joys and M&M’s . . . so, those would be the ‘chocolate’ food group,” she continued. “What I’m missing here are the protein, grain, fruit, vegetable and dairy food groups.”


“PFFFT!” I bought cereal – that’s a grain!” he retorted.


“Oh, I forgot! How silly of me! Cocoa Crispies, Cocoa Puffs and Cocoa Peebles! I’m thinking these also go in the ‘chocolate’ food group,” Buffy said, rolling her eyes.


“You forgot the Weetabix!” he defended.


“Spike, you’re the only one who eats Weetabix,” Buffy informed him.


“Not true! Annie eats it!”


“Only if you drizzle Hersey’s chocolate syrup on it! Thus, putting it back in the ‘chocolate’ food group,” Buffy reminded him.


“I bought milk!” he retorted.


“Chocolate milk, Spike – you bought chocolate milk!” Buffy picked up the container of chocolate milk and waved in front of him.


“Did you even look at the list?” Buffy asked, her hands going to her hips in exasperation.


“Sure I did; I looked at it. I got your Tab for you, didn’ I? Oh! And yogurt – that’s a dairy!” he said triumphantly.


“Oh, yes – the yogurt . . . Whipped Chocolate Mousse, Oreo Crunch and . . . wait for it . . . Chocolate Raspberry flavors! Again – all in the ‘chocolate’ food group.” Buffy shook her head. “We can’t feed our daughter chocolate twenty four hours a day, Spike!”


“We’ll don’ tell me – tell ‘er! She gets that ‘chocolate gene’ from you, anyway. I don’ know why you’re getting all over me ‘bout it!”


“The ‘chocolate gene’, huh?” Buffy asked, suppressing a smile. “And where does she get the ‘little finger gene’ from?”


“Ya lost me round that bend, luv.” Spike said, his brows knit in confusion.


“As in you wrapped around,” she clarified, holding up her little finger and twirling it in the air.


“Ah, well – she gets that from you, too, luv,” he smiled at her and curled his tongue against his teeth.


“I did get one thing that wasn’t ‘toes’ or chocolate,” he informed her as he picked up one of the bags she hadn’t unpacked yet and pulled out a bouquet of a dozen dusty pink roses, the exact color of the ones she’d used in their wedding, and held them out to her.


“You think that’s gonna make everything all right?” she asked, crossing her arms across her chest and forcing a frown to her face.


Spike shrugged, tilted his head to the side and made his best sad, lost puppy face as he continued to hold the flowers out to her.


Buffy smiled and shook her head. “You crazy vampire. What am I gonna do with you?” Buffy took the flowers before pulling Spike into a hug.


“I could give you a few suggestions, if you’d like, luv,” he whispered seductively in her ear. “It could involve Hershey’s chocolate syrup . . .”


“Mmmmm . . . my favorite!” Buffy cooed.


**~** Slayer Dreams **~**


Buffy was in an elevator. She looked around – it wasn’t the one from the Initiative which she’d had nightmares about for quite some time after rescuing Spike. This was a fancy one, with dark wood on the walls and rich carpet on the floor. When the doors opened, she stepped out into a large lobby and walked up to the reception desk. The sign behind the desk read “Wolfram & Hart.”


“Excuse me?” Buffy said to the blond behind the desk.


“Can I help you?” the girl said as she looked up from what she was doing.


“Harmony!?” Buffy backed up a step involuntarily.


“Buffy!” Harmony said with a smile as she jumped up and came around from behind the desk. “Look at you!! I haven’t seen you in forever!”


“Harmony?” Buffy said again, trying to figure out what was going on.


“Buffy you look great . . . in a fat kinda way. You’re really packing on the weight over there in Rome! You know, you gotta watch those carbs, they go straight to your . . .” Harmony started.


“Harmony!” Buffy yelled curtly, cutting her off. Buffy’s hand involuntarily went to the small bulge in her abdomen. A little over three months pregnant didn’t make her that fat!


“Sorry!” Harmony said, holding up her hands in surrender. “None of my business!”


“Are you here to see Angel? I think Andrew’s in with him now – they’re in his office, right this way,” Harmony said as she started walking away from Buffy.


“Angel? Andrew? No . . . no, Harmony, wait!” Buffy caught up with her and grabbed her arm.


“Is Spike here?” Buffy asked as Harmony turned back around.


“No, my Blondie Bear’s not here right now,” Harmony sighed.


“Your Blondie Bear?” Buffy asked, but before she could question Harmony further, she heard her name being called from across the lobby.


Buffy turned around to see Andrew running . . . well, skipping, may be more accurate, towards her.





“Andrew?” she questioned, as he grabbed her in a hug.


"Buffy!" Andrew said again, "I didn't know you were coming, too!"


Extricating herself from his arms, Buffy asked, “What’s . . . what’s going on? Have you seen Spike?”


“Spike? I . . . ummm . . . I mean . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about! Spike . . . Spike burnt up closing the Hellmouth. He was a hero . . . a golden, hard-bodied, well muscled hero,” Andrew said with awe in his voice as he looked dreamily out into space, his hands folded, as if in prayer, in front of his chest. “A creature of the night, el creatro del noche . . ."


"Andrew," Buffy said trying to stop him, but he just kept on - in his own little world.


"Living by his own rules, a true rebel with a cause, not afraid of anyone or anything . . ." Andrew continued.


"Andrew!" Buffy said again, louder.


"Transformed by his undying love for the Slayer of the Vampyrs, his own mortal enemy, into a Champion of the people . . . saving the world for her, his only desire to keep her safe . . . ”


“ANDREW! Shut up! I KNOW the story!” Buffy yelled as she grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him out of his reverie.


“What are you, mentally deficient?” Harmony said to Andrew, her hands on her hips. “He’s not burnt up! You just saw him last night!!”





“I . . . umm. Wow, Buffy – look at you! What happened? Meet an irresistible Haxil Beast on the flight over?” Andrew said, trying to change the subject as he noticed her swollen abdomen and reached his hand out to touch it.


Buffy slapped at his hand, the irony of Harmony calling anyone mentally deficient not lost on her, and Andrew pulled it back with a jerk.


“I mean, you weren’t . . . ummm . . . well . . . so round . . . when I left our flat in Rome a few days ago,” Andrew informed her.


“OUR flat . . . in Rome?” Buffy looked at Andrew with wide eyes.


“Would someone tell me what the fuck is going on here!?” Buffy yelled.


~~


Buffy woke with a jerk. She was hyperventilating and sat up in bed to try and get more air into her lungs.


“Buffy? What is it, luv?” Spike asked as he turned on the bedside light.


“I . . . dream . . . nightmare . . . Andrew . . . Harmony,” Buffy gasped out between breaths.


“That may mean something in your world, luv, but I’m not there with ya’ just now,” he said, laying a hand on her back as she continued to fight for air.


When she could finally breathe again, she said, “I think our little PTB whistling messenger left out a few stanzas about what happened in that other dimension after you burnt up and they sent you back to Angel.”


“Whaddya mean?” he looked at her with concern.


“You’re . . . I mean, he’s . . . I mean, that Spike’s back with Harmony and I’m . . . Oh, God! I’m with ANDREW!?” she said, putting her face in her hands.


“ANDREW!?!” Spike asked, wide eyed. “As in Nancy Boy Andrew?”


Buffy nodded, her face still buried in her hands.


“Buffy, are you sure? Maybe it was just a nightmare, luv. I mean you and . . . Andrew?!” Spike started laughing and the more he thought about it, the harder he laughed until he fell back down on the bed rolling in laughter.


“I’m glad you think this is so funny!” Buffy told him, taking a pillow and pressing it down on his face so she couldn’t hear him laughing.


When Spike sat up, he had tears rolling out of his eyes from laughing so hard. He tried to get some breath to speak through the small chuckles that still racked him.


“Buffy . . .” he started, swallowing back more laughter. “Luv. In any dimension, you would squash Andrew like a bug - a really small, soft, squishy, annoying kinda bug. It was just a nightmare, pet. Trust me . . . a bloody hilarious nightmare,” he said as laughter overtook him again. He fell back on the bed and pulled the pillow back over his face. His whole body shook from the waves of laughter at the mental image of Buffy with Andrew.


“I’m glad this is so funny to you!” she said again as she pushed Spike off the bed and onto the floor, which only made him laugh more hysterically.

Time Line:

Currently: August 2003.

History:
Annie turned four in February.
Buffy and Spike have been married four years.
Buffy turned 22 years old in January.
All the Potentials were endowed with full Slayer power in February 2003.
Buffy and Spike learned of the other dimensions in May, 2003.

**~**

August 2003:

“So, that’s my plan,” Buffy announced to the gathered Scoobies, Spike and Giles the next day.


“Abso-fucking-lutely not!” Spike said as he stood up from the table and began pacing around. He wasn’t laughing any more.





“Buffy, opening a portal in the Hellmouth . . . I have to agree with Spike . . . not a great idea,” Willow looked at her friend worriedly.


“Indeed, Buffy . . . there’s no way to know where it may lead. It could go somewhere, well, quite hellish,” Giles agreed.


“Look, I know exactly where that Spike burnt up in the Hellmouth. If we open a portal there, it has to take me where it took him – back to Angel in that dimension,” she implored them. “Then, I can fix whatever it is those idiots have done there and I’ll be back before you know it!”


“There are no guarantees with portals; they aren’t toasters,” Anya pointed out.


“They’ve got their own free will, luv. They don’t need yours, too!” Spike implored her.


“Spike, you remember that really stubborn bitch from the other dimension? She’s back. I’m going – today,” Buffy informed them all. “It’ll be fine; I’ll be back before you know it!”


Buffy couldn't explain why righting the wrong in the other dimension was so important, she just knew that it was - otherwise, why would she have had the dream? She knew Slayer dreams weren't something to be taken lightly, and that was definitely a Slayer dream. After all, who was to say what happened in the other dimensions couldn't negatively affect their own? Buffy was positive this was the right thing to do. Spike and the others would just have to trust her and her instincts.


“Then I’m going with you!” Spike told her.


“No, Spike. You stay here with Annie. You’ve been gone too much already lately – plus, if that Spike sees you, he’s gonna think you’re The First or something and not trust us.”


“You are a bloody stubborn woman,” Spike said with a resigned sigh.


**~**


Buffy stood on the spot where she knew, from her dream-like memories, Spike burnt up in the Hellmouth. Anya pointed out earlier that, since the dimensions split at that moment in time, it was likely that two portals would open when Buffy poured Annie’s blood on the spot. Buffy would have to pick one. In one, Buffy and Spike had both died closing the Hellmouth – their souls given another chance in the current dimension – neither of them existed in that world any longer. The other portal should take her to Angel, and Spike, in the dimension where she left him to close the Hellmouth alone – that was the one she wanted.


Giles had also reminded her that the people she met in that dimension weren’t the same ones as she knew here. She had to reach down into those dream-like memories of the other life and use those to relate properly to everyone in the dimension she was headed into, or back into.


With Spike, Willow and Giles standing behind her in the Hellmouth, Buffy poured the vial of Annie’s blood on the spot and watched as two portals opened.


“Eeenny, meaney, miney, moe; catch a vampire by the toe; if he hollers, kiss him slow; eenney meaney, miney, moe,” Buffy sing songed as she tried to choose between the two.


“Buffy, don’t forget to pay attention to where the portal is when you get there; you’ll need to return to the exact spot to get back,” Giles reminded her.


“Got it,” Buffy told him.


“Please be careful, luv,” Spike told her, resigned that he wasn’t going to be able to stop her.


“I will. It’s not like I’m going to some other strange world . . . it’s just a . . . a match-making mission – just to get those two stubborn assholes back on track,” she assured him with a smile. “I’ll be back before you know it! I love you.”


“I love you too, Buffy,” Spike told her, dropping a kiss on her lips before she turned quickly and jumped into the portal that she’d chosen.


**~**


Buffy let out a breath that she’d hadn’t been aware she was holding when she looked around and found herself in the same lobby as her dream, standing in front of, what she knew, was Harmony’s reception desk.


“Excuse me?” Buffy said.


“Can I help you?” Harmony said as she looked up from what she was doing.


“Hi, Harmony.”


“Buffy!” Harmony said with a smile as she jumped up and came around from behind the desk. “Look at you!! I haven’t seen you in forever!”


“Yeah, time flies,” Buffy agreed.


“Buffy you look great . . . in a fat kinda way. You’re really packing on the weight over there in Rome! You know, you gotta watch those carbs . . .” Harmony said.


“Harmony!” Buffy said curtly to stop her. Harmony wasn’t any better in real life than she was in her dream!


“Sorry!” Harmony said, holding up her hands in surrender. “None of my business!”


“Are you here to see Angel? I think Andrew’s in with him now – they’re in his office, right this way,” Harmony said as she started walking away from Buffy.


“No . . . no, Harmony, wait!” Buffy caught up with her and grabbed her arm.


“Where’s Spike?” Buffy asked her as Harmony turned back around.


“Blondie Bear’s not here right now,” Harmony sighed.


“Where is he?” Buffy pressed, but before Harmony could answer, Buffy heard her name being called from across the lobby.


Buffy turned around to see Andrew, just like in her dream. “Buffy! What are you doing here? I didn’t know you were coming!”


“Andrew. Have you seen Spike?” she questioned, as he grabbed her in a hug.


Andrew pulled back suddenly, eyes wide. “Spike? I . . . ummm . . . I mean . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about! Spike . . . Spike burnt up closing the Hellmouth. He was a hero . . . a golden, hard-bodied, well muscled hero,” Andrew said with awe in his voice as he looked dreamily out into space - just like in her dream. “A creature of the night, el creatro del noche . . ."


“ANDREW! Shut up! I KNOW the story!” Buffy yelled at him as she grabbed him by the shirt and shoved him against the nearest wall. “Where is Spike?!” she demanded.


“We . . . we don’t know! Angel’s looking for him,” Andrew told her. "Please don't tell Spike I said anything to you! He threatened to wedgie me unconscious if I did!"


Buffy rolled her eyes before asking, “Where’s Angel?”


Andrew pointed towards Angel’s office. Buffy grabbed hold of one of Andrew’s ears and pulled him behind her as she marched across the lobby in the direction Andrew had pointed. Andrew whined “ow! ow! ow!” the whole way across the lobby and into Angel’s office as he tried to keep up with her.


“Buffy!” Angel exclaimed when she entered, dragging Andrew behind her. Angel came around the desk to give her a hug, but she dropped her hold on Andrew and put her palm on Angel’s chest and pushed him back. “Where’s Spike?” she demanded.


“Spike?” Angel questioned as he stopped, finally noticing her pregnancy. “Buffy . . . what’s going on? You’re pregnant!? Last time I talked to you you said you were cookie dough! Not done baking! Now . . . now you have a bun in the oven! I’ve been waiting for cookies and . . . you’ve been . . . making bread!?”


Buffy rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. She never regretted using that analogy more than at that moment.


“Who’s the father!? Is it that Riley guy?” Angel asked her.


Buffy sucked a sharp breath in before realizing that the Riley in this dimension was different than the one in hers. Forcing herself to relax she said, “It’s no one you know, Angel. Drop it. Where’s Spike?”


“We don’t know. He went off after that psycho Slayer down by the docks, but we haven’t found him yet. She attacked Spike and Andrew; when Andrew woke up, Spike was gone.”


“Psycho Slayer?” Buffy asked. “Who? Faith?”


“No, not Faith. The psycho you endowed with Slayer strength with your little Sunnydale surprise. You remember? The one that you sent Andrew here to retrieve? Dana,” Angel informed her.


“I sent Andrew to retrieve a psycho Slayer?” Buffy asked. Have I gone completely insane from grief over losing Spike in this dimension? she wondered silently.


Angel and Andrew were both starting to look at her funny now. “Are you ok, Buffy?” Angel asked, moving back towards her.


“Yes! I’m fine, just a little . . . jet lag . . . I guess,” she said, stepping back away from Angel. “Ok, so get Willow to do a locator spell and find him.”


Andrew cleared his throat and looked sheepishly at his feet, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.


“What!?” Buffy asked turning towards him.


Andrew backed up a step. “Willow’s in Brazil,” he said meekly.


“Wonderful!” Buffy said, as she turned and started pacing back and forth.


“Cordelia! Where’s Cordelia? Get her to have a vision!” Buffy stopped and looked at Angel hopefully.


Angel shook his head slowly. “Buffy, Cordy’s in a coma.”


“Just great!” Buffy said, exasperated, as she resumed pacing back and forth.


“So, let me get this all straight. You work for Wolfram & Hart and Spike works with you,” she looked at Angel.


Angel rolled his eyes. “Well, ‘work with’ would be a huge overstatement,” he informed her.


“And you sent him after a psycho Slayer who has the strength to dust him,” Buffy kept her eyes on Angel.


“I didn’t send him – he went – all on his own. I can’t tell him what to do, Buffy. You were, apparently, the only one who could ever get him to do anything!” Angel defended.


“So, what are you doing to find him?” Buffy asked Angel.


“We’ve got a psychic coming. We’re going to Dana’s childhood home and see if we can pick up anything from there,” Angel told her.


“That could take hours! He could be dust by then!” Buffy told him.


Angel shrugged and muttered under his breath, "Don't worry, if that happens, he'll just come back to haunt me again."


Buffy gave Angel a deadly stare before saying, “Just drop me off the last place you saw him on your way." She grabbed Angel by the elbow and shoved him towards the door. "Let's go."

**~**

Buffy stood in the alley where Andrew said they had been attacked. She didn’t see any vampire dust, which was a relief. She looked around, trying to figure out which way to go when she thought of something. She closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to feel him through the bond they had in other dimension. She hoped that she could connect through his soul. Since, when he’d lost his soul before, she was no longer connected to him, she hoped that, even though this wasn’t her Spike, his soul would allow her to feel him and to find him.


Buffy’s eyes flew open – she could feel him. She closed her eyes again and took a deep breath, trying to clear her thoughts and figure out which way to go. It felt suddenly like a light bulb came on in her mind and she knew exactly where he was. She took off running in the direction her mind told her to.


She finally stopped in front of a very old, abandoned distillery. Now she could feel Spike’s presence tingle down her spine – he was close! Buffy ran into the warehouse and started slowly down the stairs to the basement, listening.


She could hear Spike talking as she descended the stairs silently. “Right. Let me explain. You got visions. Right? Vampire Slayer memories kickin' around in your head. Which is tough . . . 'cause it sounds like you're past midnight on the crazy clock anyway. But, hey . . . don't worry. I used to date a girl who wasn't all there – plus also sorta dated a Slayer – so, I gotcha’ covered, luv.”


Dana was talking, too. “Please don't. I have to get home to my son . . . to my Robin.”


“Robin? Oh, Nikki’s son. Yeah, I met him . . . he didn’t turn out so well. Of course, from your perspective, maybe he did . . . Actually, you probably don't want to think about that at all, pet,” Spike told her as he moved cautiously towards her.


“William the Bloody,” Dana announced, looking at Spike.


“No. No. No. That's not gonna lead anywhere good, trust me. . .” Spike said as Buffy came up behind him and pulled him back and away from the deranged Slayer; putting herself between Dana and Spike.


“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed as he stumbled and nearly fell. “Slayer! What the fuck are you doin’ here?!” he asked when he realized who it was. “I’m gonna fucking kill Andrew!”


“Stay back, Spike!” Buffy ordered as she inched forward towards Dana.


“Yellow makes you weak. Brown makes you sleepy,” Dana said slowly . . . a syringe in her hand as the two Slayers circled each other in the dank and dirty basement.


“Dana, you don’t want to do this. Just stop. We can help you, but you have to stop,” Buffy told her, trying to talk as calmly as she could to the girl.


“She can’t understand you, luv. She’s gone off her bloody gourd,” Spike said from behind Buffy.


“Not weak anymore,” Dana said, still circling Buffy.





“No, not weak anymore, Dana. Dana, listen to me – just stop. Dana, it’s over. You won! Dana, you won!” Buffy told her – using her name repeatedly to try and get through to her.


Spike casually leaned up against the wall and lit a cigarette as he watched the two Slayers stalk each other. This should be bloody brilliant, he thought, in anticipation of seeing Buffy beat the other Slayer’s ass.


“You’re bloody preggers!” he exclaimed suddenly, dropping his cigarette and walking closer to the women. “Moved on pretty fast I see – don’t spend no time grieving over ol’ Spike. He just saved the fucking world for you!” Raising his voice a few octaves to mock her, he said, “Gee, I wonder who I can go screw to celebrate?”





“Spike! Can we not talk about this right now?” Buffy said through gritted teeth as she tried to concentrate on the other Slayer and the syringe in her hand.


“I knew you didn’ mean it!! You just said it to make yourself feel better!” he continued talking, ignoring her request, as he started pacing agitatedly back and forth near the stairs, his duster swirling around his legs with each turn. “Those tears o’ yours really put the topping on it, Buffy . . . ‘I love you’ . . . my sodding ass!”


“Spike! Please! Can we talk about this later!?” Buffy implored him.


Dana lunged at Buffy with the syringe, but Buffy stepped to the side and hit Dana on the back of her neck as she went by – sending Dana stumbling right towards Spike. Spike grabbed her, turned her around and shoved her back at Buffy. “There ya’ go, luv. Back in the ring with you, then.”


“Spike! If you can’t help me, at least don’t fucking help her!” Buffy screamed at him as Dana came back towards her with the syringe.


“Who’s is it then? Who’d ya celebrate ol’ Spike burning in hell fire with, pet?” he kept talking, ignoring Buffy as the Slayers went back to circling each other.


“Was it Robin? That would be ironic . . . if he’d a killed me when you wanted him to, he might notta got to fuck you later when I saved the world . . .” Spike continued pacing and spouting off.


“Spike! You stupid son of a bitch!” Buffy said, stopping short and taking her eyes off Dana to look at him. In that instant, Dana tackled her and shoved the needle in Buffy’s neck.


“Buffy!” Spike screamed as he threw himself at Dana, game face on and adrenaline pumping. He tackled Dana to the ground and held her by the throat as she punched, scratched and kicked at him, trying to get him off. Spike had her legs pinned with his hips to keep her from kicking him off, the added adrenaline of seeing Buffy hurt making him that much stronger, as he held Dana tightly by the throat until the Slayer passed out.


“Buffy!” he called again as he scrambled off the unconscious Dana and back to where Buffy lay. The contents of the syringe had been half emptied into Buffy’s neck, her head was spinning and she felt like she was going to pass out or vomit, or both. Spike pulled the syringe out before pulling her to him. “God, I’m sorry, Buffy,” he said, holding her against him. “I didn’t mean it . . .”


“Spike . . .” was all she could say before she passed out.


**~**


Buffy woke slowly, her head hurt, but when she tried to move her hand to touch it, something pinched her and she stopped moving. She opened her eyes slowly, squinting against the light in the room that made the pounding in her head worse. Hospital, she realized and moaned. She hated hospitals in any dimension. Looking down at her hand to see what was holding it, she saw it was an I.V.


She raised her eyelids slowly and looked around the room. Spike was asleep in a chair on one side of the bed; Angel was asleep in a chair on the other. She closed her eyes and wondered how long she’d been in the hospital.


“OH GOD! The baby!” she was suddenly fully awake. “Spike!”


Spike and Angel both jumped up when she spoke and both were hovering over her now. She looked at Spike and asked, “The baby? Is the baby ok?”


Buffy didn’t know if Willow’s protection spell would work against things like strange drugs getting injected into her body.


“It’s ok, pet. The sprog’s ok,” Spike told her. “Buffy, I’m so sorry . . . I didn’t mean anythin’ . . . I just . . .”


Buffy stopped him by lifting the hand that didn’t have the I.V. in it to his lips. Buffy looked at Angel, who seemed genuinely concerned, as well. “I need to talk to Spike a minute, Angel - alone.”


Angel looked from her to Spike and back again before sighing heavily, nodding and leaving the room. When they were alone she asked Spike to sit back down and started trying to explain to him why she was there.


“Spike, I know this is gonna be hard to believe, but I’m not your Buffy . . . I’m from a different dimension – a different world.”


He looked at her with a furrowed brow and started to say something about the drugs affecting her mind, she held up her hand to stop him.


“Just trust me on this – it’s not the drugs. I'm not your Buffy . . . look." Buffy pulled the collar of the hospital gown down a few inches to reveal the scar that still lingered on her chest from the amulet; she wondered if it would ever completely go away.


"I wore the amulet in my world," she told him.


Spike looked at her closely, brows furrowed, looking at the scar and considering what she said. Of course, he knew there were other dimensions - many other dimensions; he'd been around long enough to see to one or two dimensional portals himself. So, the possibility that she was telling the truth, that this wasn't his Buffy, was certainly something that could be real.


"I’ve come here to try and fix things – for you and for her – for Buffy. I had a Slayer dream and I just had to do something about what’s going on here," Buffy started to explain.


"Now, I don’t know why you’re with Harmony or why she’s with Andrew . . .” Buffy continued.


“WHAT?!” Spike exclaimed, stopping her explanation as he stood up and started pacing around the room. “I’m not with Harmony! Well . . . just that one time, at first . . . but I’m not with Harmony . . . she bloody bit me! Threatened to dust me – and she’s loopy enough to do it!”


Then he stopped and looked at her with confusion before asking, “What about Andrew?”


“Isn’t Buffy with Andrew . . . in Rome . . . they have a flat together? In my dream, Andrew said they had a flat together,” Buffy stammered out.


Spike started laughing, he tried to stop, but just couldn’t. “You and . . . and Andrew!? Who’s in charge a’ dreams in your dimension, Slayer? Monty fucking Python?” he said between chuckles of laughter.


Well, I’m glad to see both Spike’s have the same warped sense of humor, she thought to herself.


“Andrew told me he got burnt out of his flat . . . he had to move in with you . . . with her . . . with Buffy and Dawn for a while,” Spike explained.


“Then . . . why? Spike, why aren’t you with her?” Buffy looked at him with concern and confusion. “Don’t you love me . . . her . . . anymore?”


Spike sighed, sat back down and closed his eyes.


“Spike? Tell me,” Buffy prodded him.


“I do, Buffy . . . I do love you . . . or her . . . I just – you deserve better than me, pet,” he said, dropping his face into his hands. "You deserve a normal life . . . the life you always wanted. You . . . she can't have that with me."


“She loves you, Spike. Trust me on this. What she told you in the Hellmouth was the truth,” Buffy said softly. "She would want you in her life."


Spike shook his head, his forehead still resting heavily in his hands.


“Spike, look at me,” Buffy said, reaching out to touch the side of his face. When Spike looked up his eyes were glistening as he tried to hold back his emotions.


“Believe me, Spike, I know what I’m talking about. You’ve got a second chance – you have to take it. For your sake as well as hers. Fortune favors the brave, and I know, beyond anything else, you’re brave,” Buffy said, giving him a small smile.


Spike nodded slowly, lowering his eyes from her. After a moment he asked, “So, who’s the father of the sprog, Buffy? You want me to be with her, but where am I in your world?”


“You can’t tell? Where’s all that super vampire smelling, Spike? Com’on, I don’t have Robin breath!” Buffy smiled at him.


Spike narrowed his eyes, considering her a moment. “It’s mine? B-but how?” he asked after several moments.


“Love and magic, Spike. You just have to take the chance and believe.”


**~**


Buffy made sure that Spike got on the plane with Andrew when he flew Dana back to Rome. She also threatened to come back and kick his ass if he didn't at least give his Buffy a chance. Spike still wasn’t sure how the Buffy in his dimension would react to seeing him again, but Buffy reassured him that it would be fine, she really did love him – he just had to believe.


**~**


Back in her own dimension, Buffy walked back into the mansion near mid-afternoon, looking forward to seeing her Spike and Annie. She’d been gone for three days. Tara was watching TV with Annie on the couch when Buffy came in and Annie came running over to greet her with a huge hug.


“How’s my girl?” Buffy asked, picking her up.


“I missed you!” Annie said wrapping her arms around Buffy’s neck.


“I missed you, too, sweetie!” Buffy said, giving her a slightly harder squeeze before setting her back down. “Where’s Papa?”


“He had to go to L.A.,” Annie informed her with a pout. Buffy’s face got the same pout on it as Annie’s.


“So, what’s going on in L.A.,” Buffy asked as she walked over to Tara.


“There’s a Slayer down there killing people – I guess she was in a mental institution, but she escaped . . .” Tara told her.


Buffy’s stomach dropped and she could barely breathe, “W-what? Why . . . Who . . .”


Buffy closed her eyes and tried to breathe so she could get a full sentence out. “Who thought that sending a vampire after a psycho Slayer was the thing to do? Was it Angel?! Did Angel call him!?”


“N-n-no,” Tara stammered, not understanding why Buffy was so upset. “The Council called and asked him to do it.”


“WHAT!? ALONE! He went ALONE?” Buffy looked at Tara with wide eyes. Tara gave her a timid nod.


“Jesus Christ!” Buffy started pacing around, trying to think. She stopped suddenly and tried to contact Spike through their bond . . . nothing. Grabbing up the phone, she started dialing Angel’s number, but stopped. What if Angel used it as an opportunity to dust Spike once and for all and blame it on the psychotic Slayer? Angel seemed to have accepted the idea that she was with Spike for good, but, after all he’d done in the past, it was still hard to not have doubts about Angel’s motives.


FUCK!


“Annie, I have to go to L.A., honey. I’ll be back soon, ok?” Buffy told her daughter, who was looking at her with frightened eyes. “Everything’s ok, honey – I just . . . I just have to go help Papa,” Buffy assured her before dropping a kiss on her head and heading out the door.


**~**


Buffy continued to try and reach Spike through their bond as she drove, but it felt like that time when the Initiative had taken him, he wasn’t taking calls – unconscious probably. Buffy thought about the drugs that Dana had injected her with and wondered what would’ve happened if Spike . . . the other Spike . . . hadn’t been there to help her. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back as she increased her speed on the interstate, weaving in and out of traffic and hoping no cops tried to pull her over.


Buffy kept trying to think of someone, anyone, other than Angel, that she knew in L.A. that could help her - who could possibly get there faster. She also wondered why the Council would’ve called Spike for this mission – she knew there was at least one “active duty” Slayer in L.A., why didn’t they send her? Or maybe they had and she’d been killed . . . but why Spike? Angel was closer – why didn’t they call him?


“AAAAAGGGGHHHH!” she screamed out in frustration as she sped along the highway. She had nothing but questions and not a single answer to any of them.


Buffy thought about what had happened in the other dimension with the deranged Slayer, going over it all in her mind – trying to figure out the best way to defeat her without killing her. Of course, if it came down to Dana or Spike, Buffy knew what she would have to do; she hoped it wouldn’t come to that, though.


Suddenly, Buffy had a thought – Wolfram & Hart. Angel worked for them in the other dimension – they had resources, swat teams, medical personnel – hell, she was in their hospital in the other dimension. Lindsey! Lindsey used to work for them. Maybe he knew someone that could help her.


Buffy dialed the Coven’s number on her cell phone and again hoped that no cops tried to pull her over for not only speeding and reckless driving, but talking on the cell phone at the same time. After Buffy explained the situation to Lindsey, he told her he had some favors he could call in. Buffy gave him the location of the warehouse she knew (or hoped!) Spike and Dana would be in. Lindsey told her he’d do what he could to get help there as soon as possible.


“Don’t trust them, Buffy,” Lindsey had told her at the end of the conversation. “Use them, use their resources . . . but don’t trust them. Don’t agree to anything, don’t turn your back on them and don’t let them make you think you owe them – you don’t. These are personal favors I’m calling in – you don’t owe anyone for this, alright?”


“I got it. Thank you,” Buffy told him before hanging up; her words to Angel earlier that year rang in her head, any port in an Apocalypse and this, as far as she was concerned, qualified.


Buffy checked the next road sign she passed, it said Los Angeles, 10 miles. “Please hang on, Spike,” she whispered to herself. “I’ll be there soon.”

Time Line:
Currently: August 2003.
Buffy is about 3 months pregnant.

History:
Annie turned four in February.
Buffy and Spike have been married four years.
Buffy turned 22 years old in January.
All the Potentials were endowed with full Slayer power in February 2003.
Buffy and Spike learned of the other dimensions in May, 2003.


**~**

August 2003:


Buffy’s car roared up in front of the old distillery down by the docks; the transmission grinding in objection as she threw it into park and turned off the key before actually coming to a complete stop. Buffy grabbed a stake from between the seats of the car, the only weapon she had with her, as she flung the door open and jumped out. In a full run, she headed towards what she hoped and prayed was where Spike and Dana would be – the basement of the old building.


She knew Spike was there as soon as she got to the door of the building. She could feel his presence tingle down her spine and silently said a prayer of thanks to the PTB for that small favor. As she got to the stairs leading down to the basement, she slowed and tried to listen. Taking the steps silently, she could hear someone moaning in pain and another tingle went down her spine . . . different, not Spike . . . ANGEL! Angel was here, too! Spike wouldn’t have called Angel. What is he doing here?


About half way down the stairs the smell of blood assaulted her nostrils. Even without vampire smelling, the odor was undeniable and overwhelming. Fear gripped her stomach, tying it in knots and she struggled to keep her breath steady as she continued to descend the stairs silently.


Near the bottom of the stairs she could see the blood – more than she’d ever seen before. It practically covered the floor in front of her and she had to swallow back the bile that threatened the back of her throat as the smell and sight of it nearly overtook her. As she stepped out of the stairway she could see the source of all the blood . . . someone had cut his hands off at the wrist and his blood, more than she thought could be in a single body, was what covered the floor.


“ANGEL!” She cried, rushing to him as he lay moaning in agony on the floor. “God, Angel!” Buffy couldn’t say or do anymore before the contents of her stomach came up. She fell to her hands and knees as the nausea overtook her; the contents of her stomach heaving up in waves. When she could finally breathe again, she moved back over to Angel – he was white as a sheet – all the blood apparently drained from his whole body – and completely incoherent. How he was even conscious enough to moan was beyond her.


Buffy had no idea what she could do to help him – he had long ago stopped bleeding . . . Oh, God! Where’s Spike? “SPIKE!!” she screamed as she got up, now covered in Angel’s blood, and started moving further into the basement. She found Spike sitting on the floor chained to some pipes in the center of the room – also incoherent, but apparently uninjured.





“Don’t hurt the girl . . . Didn’t mean . . . to . . . hurt . . . the girl,” Spike was mumbling, his head lolling back and forth against the pipes he was chained to.


“Spike, oh God, baby . . .” Buffy said, as she started to unchain him. “Spike, can you hear me? Where’s the girl?! Spike?”


Before she could get him fully unchained, Buffy was yanked backwards away from him and thrown back against some old equipment a few feet away. The small amount of air she’d managed to get back into her lungs after her nausea, was knocked out as she hit with an “Ommmpph.”


When she looked up, she saw that it was Dana who had thrown her. Dana had some kind of a bone saw in her hands – she was also covered in blood and was bending over Spike with the blade of the saw at his throat.


“William the Bloody . . . heart . . . and head. Stab the heart, cut off the head. Only way to be sure,” she was saying in a low voice as she pressed the blade against Spike’s neck. “Keep cutting till you see dust.”


“NO!” Buffy screamed as she forced herself back up and threw herself at Dana, knocking the other Slayer down and sending the saw flying across the room. The two Slayers grappled on the dirty floor of the basement, each trying to get control of the other, for what seemed an eternity.


Buffy couldn’t remember any of the other new Slayers that she’d worked with at the Coven being nearly this strong. It didn’t seem to matter what Buffy did, she couldn’t get control of the other girl. Buffy reached behind her and pulled the stake she’d brought with her out of the waistband of her jeans and, the next time they rolled over and Buffy was on top, she came down with the stake into Dana’s shoulder.


Dana screamed in pain, but didn’t waiver from her attack – if anything, it made her stronger. She kicked Buffy up, over her head and off. Dana yanked the stake out of her shoulder as she scrambled on top of Buffy, pinning the elder Slayer to the ground and pressing the stake against Buffy’s chest.


“Stab the heart, cut off the head. Only way to be sure . . .” Dana said in a deadly calm voice as she pressed down with the stake over Buffy’s heart. Buffy grabbed Dana’s forearms and pushed with all her strength against her, but the stake kept going deeper into her flesh. Buffy could feel it when it hit a rib as she kicked and pushed against the other Slayer with renewed power; putting every ounce of energy she had left into trying to dislodge her. And still the stake went deeper. Buffy screamed out in pain when it slid between two ribs, cracking them and threatening to pierce her heart.


Suddenly, Dana slumped down, all her strength apparently gone. Buffy pushed her off and closed her eyes to try and stop the renewed bout of nausea that threatened her from the pain of the stake which was still lodged in her chest.


“Are you ok!!!?”


Buffy looked up to see Charles Gunn standing over her with a tranq gun – apparently he had shot Dana with it. Buffy couldn’t answer. She just closed her eyes again and nodded her head one time before wrapping both hands around the stake and yanking it out of her chest with a blood curdling scream. When Buffy could move again, she crawled back over to Spike who was still incoherent and mumbling about hurting the girl.


“It’s ok, baby . . . you didn’t hurt the girl,” she whispered as she finished unwrapping the chains from around him.


“Looks like I missed a helluva party!” came a female voice that Buffy didn’t recognize from the stairway. Buffy forced herself up to her feet and looked at who was speaking. An attractive brunette in a designer dress and high heels stood at the bottom of the stairs, trying not to get blood on herself.


“No one called you Lilah!” Charles Gunn told the woman as he knelt over Angel trying to help him.


“Well, actually, that’s not true – someone did call me – and it looks like it’s a good thing, too,” the woman retorted, looking down at Angel.


Buffy walked slowly over to her, holding a hand over the wound in her chest to try and stem the bleeding. “Who are you?” Buffy asked her.


“Lilah Morgan, Wolfram & Hart,” the woman said, holding out a business card to Buffy.





Buffy ignored the card and studied the woman a moment. “Can you help him?” she asked, tilting her head towards Angel who was still lying on the ground moaning; his severed hands laying in pools of blood next to him.


“We don’t need her help, Buffy!” Gunn told her as he continued to try and make Angel more comfortable.


“Oh, I think you do need my help,” Lilah countered as she stepped gingerly around the blood on the floor and further into the room. “We can re-attach those,” she informed them, tilting her head down towards Angel’s hands.


“Why would you do that? What’s the catch?” Gunn asked from the floor next to Angel.


“Well, call it a personal favor,” Lilah said with a fake smile on her lips as she looked at Buffy but answered Gunn.


“Bullshit! Buffy, she’s with Wolfram & Hart! All the favors they’ve ever done for us have ended up with us getting fucked in the ass!” Gunn informed her.


Buffy grabbed Lilah around the neck and shoved her back against the closest wall. “Why would you help Angel?” Buffy demanded.


“Do you have any idea how hard it is to get blood stains out of silk?” Lilah asked calmly as Buffy pressed her bloody hands and body against the lawyer. “This dress is ruined!”


“Why would you help Angel?” Buffy asked again through gritted teeth.


Lilah rolled her eyes and sighed heavily before answering. “The Senior Partners have an . . . interest . . . in him,” Lilah told her. “Personally, I think we’d all be better off if he was a pile of dust, but apparently there’s some prophecy about his involvement in some future apocalypse . . . and we’ve been ordered not to dust him.”


“So, why help him?” Buffy pressed her, tightening her grip on Lilah’s throat.


“Points,” Lilah said simply.


“Points?” Buffy questioned.


“Yeah, points! Get points with the Senior Partners – get noticed – get promoted . . .” Lilah retorted with wide eyes and raised brows, as if Buffy had asked the most stupid question ever.


Buffy nodded and let her go. She liked that explanation better than the personal favor reason - if Lilah was doing it for her own personal gain, then it was less likely to be a double cross.


“Fine – fix it,” Buffy said, ignoring Gunn’s objections as she stepped back from the lawyer.


“Go with them,” Buffy instructed Gunn. When Lilah started to object, Buffy grabbed her by the throat again. Standing with her face just inches from the lawyer’s, her voice low and threatening, Buffy said, “Gunn is going with you. In a little while, I’m gonna be there, too – and if anything goes wrong, then the next time we meet, the blood on your dress will be your own.”


Lilah shrugged her shoulders as she held her hands out to the side in surrender and Buffy let her go. Grabbing the tranq gun from Charles, she turned on her heel and headed back over to check on Spike. He was still mumbling, “Don’t hurt the girl . . .” with his eyes fixed on the deranged Slayer that lay motionless a few feet from him.





“Spike,” Buffy said as she knelt down in front of him. “Spike, look at me.” Buffy took his face in her hands and forced him to look away from Dana and at her. “Spike, you didn’t hurt the girl.”


Spike’s eyes went wide, “I did! I hurt the girl! I hurt Buffy!”


“Oh, God, Spike . . . you . . .” Buffy closed her eyes and sighed heavily before starting again. “It’s ok, it’s the drugs . . . that wasn't you, baby . . . everything’s ok,” Buffy told him as she drew him into a hug, wincing through the pain when he pulled her into a tight embrace and buried his face against her shoulder. “It’s ok, Spike,” she told him again. “Everything’s ok, now.”


**~**


Buffy called Giles and had him contact the Council to get someone to pick up Dana and take her somewhere that she could be contained and, hopefully, treated. She had to shoot her twice more with the tranq gun while they waited for the Council to show up, but finally, Dana was on her way out of the dirty basement that had been her childhood torture chamber.


Buffy took Spike to the Hyperion and asked Fred to watch him. He wasn’t nearly as incoherent as he had been when she first got to the distillery; he was just groggy now, so she felt she could leave him a little while to go check on Angel.


Before she left the Hyperion, Buffy questioned Cordelia to find out why Angel had been in the basement at all.


“The Council called him,” Cordelia said after Buffy told her what had happened.


“The Council!? That’s who Tara said called Spike. Why would they call both of them? Why would they call them at all to go after a psychotic Slayer?” Buffy asked, more to herself than to Cordelia.


Cordelia just raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “A little while after he left, I had a vision of a whole lotta blood. So gross . . . ewwww!” Cordelia said, shaking her entire body and flinging her hands out to the side, as if to get the grossness off. “I called Gunn and sent him after Angel.”


“Well, at least someone was on our side today,” Buffy said with a sigh.


“You know, speaking of blood and gross . . .” Cordelia said, making a face and looking Buffy up and down, “you could really use a refresher course on the meaning of personal hygiene.”


Buffy looked down at herself. Her clothes and skin were caked in dried blood and black sooty dirt. She wondered if they would even let her in the W&H hospital looking like this. “Do you have somewhere I can clean up . . . and some clothes that might fit me?” Buffy asked her.


Cordelia sighed heavily, but lead Buffy up to one of the rooms and found some clothes that would do for her. Buffy took a shower, changed into the clothes that Cordy had left, and cleaned as much of the blood and grime off her shoes as possible before heading out to check on Angel.


When she got to his room in the W&H “hospital”, Angel was awake and sitting up in bed. His hands were, apparently, re-attached although he couldn’t move them yet. Gunn was there with him.


“Everything go ok?” Buffy asked them.


“Appears so, I just wonder what kinda favors we’re gonna owe Lilah and Wolfram & Hart now,” Gunn told her.


“Angel, you ok?” Buffy asked, walking over next to his bed.


Angel sighed heavily, closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the pillow behind him, “Yeah,” he said wearily.


“Why were you there?” Buffy asked him.


“Council called, said they had a rogue Slayer killing innocents and no one else available to go after her,” he informed Buffy.


“Who exactly called, did you get their name?” Buffy asked.


“It was one of those ones from headquarters . . . Collins I think his name was,” Angel told her.


Buffy frowned, she’d never heard of a Watcher or member of the Council named Collins, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything – there were probably lots of them she had never heard of. They were like ants at a picnic – too many and most definitely annoying.


“Did he tell you that he called Spike, too?” Buffy asked.


“No, said I was the only one close enough to get to her in time,” Angel sighed, holding up his bandaged arms. “I didn’t ask in time for what.”


Buffy blew out a long breath and just said, “Yeah.” After a moment she asked, “Will you be ok here? Do I need to get you back to the Hyperion?”


“I think we’re ok – if they wanted to dust me, I’d be dust by now,” Angel told her.


Buffy nodded and told Gunn to call her if anything happened before leaving them and going back to the Hyperion to pick up Spike.


Spike was still a little groggy from the drugs he’d been injected with. He had some bruises and cuts on his face and a red line across his throat where Dana had started to press the saw blade against it, but other than that, he seemed unhurt by his encounter with the psychotic Slayer.


When Buffy asked him who had called him to go after Dana, she got the same answer as Angel gave – some guy named Collins from the Council, which was disturbing to say the least. Buffy could’ve almost understood if the right hand didn’t know what the left hand of the Council was doing (after all – communication wasn’t one of their strong suits). If two different people had called the two souled vampires, it may have been understandable, but the same person calling them both sounded, well, fishy.


Buffy helped him to her car and he fell into a fitful sleep before they’d even gotten out of L.A.


“Bloody hell! The car!” Spike exclaimed, suddenly jerking awake. “Go back! Gotta get m’ car!”


“Spike, we’re halfway home. I’ll get Xander and Anya or somebody to go back and get it tomorrow. I’m too tired to go back now and you’re in no condition to drive, anyway.” Spike mumbled something about his driving in any condition being better than Buffy’s driving at her best, as he fell back into a nightmare filled sleep. Buffy rolled her eyes and just kept going.


**~**


Two weeks later:


“How’s the tea? Probably not as good as merry ole England . . .” Buffy said in a pleasant tone to her guest.


“Quite . . . well, you simply can’t expect the comforts of home in California, Miss Summers,” Quentin Travers replied taking a sip of the tea she’d made for him.




They were sitting at the research table in the mansion, just the two of them. The rest of the Council members that had made the trip to California with the Council head (since they always traveled in packs, like hyenas) had somehow been detained between the airport and the mansion. It certainly couldn’t have been because Xander, who had volunteered to chauffeur them, had driven them to the city dump instead, could it?


Giles had checked in on who this Collins person was that had called Angel and Spike to go after Dana and found out that he wasn’t actually a member of the Council or a Watcher, at all. He was, in fact, a hired gun – often used by the Council for some of its less ethical missions. He reported directly to Quentin Travers. Buffy had Giles arrange a meeting with the Council head here, in California, under the false pretense that she had figured out a way to endow all the Slayers with even more power – making them nearly untouchable – but she wanted to talk with Travers about it first, in person.


“So, Miss Summers, you have a way to make the Slayers even stronger?” Travers was asking her as he sipped at his tea.


“I do!” Buffy smiled sweetly at him. “Here’s my plan,” Buffy leaned forward, keeping the smile on her face, as if to impart a wonderful secret to the Council head. “We’re gonna recruit a whooole bunch of vampires who’d like to be re-ensouled. Willow will do her hocus-pocus on them and then we’ll pair them up with Slayers – every Slayer gets to choose one to help her fight evil! What do you think, Quentin? A whole army of Slayers with souled vampires at their side – fighting the good fight; they’d be practically untouchable, don’t you agree?”


Travers sputtered tea across the table as he tried to compose himself. “Miss Summers . . . that’s . . . that’s a . . . well, a very novel idea,” he stuttered out. “But, I hardly think it’s workable . . . I mean, really, vampires – souled or not are, well, vampires.”


“Yeah, I thought you might feel that way.” Buffy’s voice had suddenly turned cold as ice. The smile on her face replaced with a dangerous look of loathing for the Council head. “And do you know what people who fuck with me and my family are, Quentin?” Buffy paused, as if waiting for an answer before saying, “Mostly, they’re dead.”


“Buffy, I assure you I don’t know what you’re talking about . . .” Quentin started as he began to stand up from the table. Before he could get fully unfolded from his seat Buffy had her hand around his throat and had pushed him back against the nearest bookcase, raining books down around them when he hit.


“I think you know very well what I’m talking about,” Buffy said slowly, in a voice low and threatening; her face just inches from his. “Now, here’s what’s gonna happen. I quit. I don’t work for you anymore. You won’t call me again; you won’t come here again; you won’t fuck with my family again; hell, I better not even get a fucking Christmas card from you! Because if I do, dead will be the least of your worries, Quentin.”


“Buffy . . . I assure you . . .” Quentin started to stammer out and she tightened her grip on his throat, effectively stopping him.


“I’m not joking. You want to know what it’s like to be a vampire? ‘Cause that can be arranged. Then, you can know what it feels like to be dusted, because I assure you, that will be my pleasure. Are we very clear?”


Travers’ face was turning purple from lack of oxygen and Buffy relaxed her grip on his throat slightly before asking again, “Are we clear?”


Travers nodded and Buffy released him. He bent over, gasping for breath, rubbing his throat to try and open his nearly crushed airway. When he’d recovered enough to speak, he said, “Mr. Giles will be coming back with me, then.”


“No, Mr. Giles will not,” Giles retorted from behind Buffy.


Buffy backed up so Travers could see who had joined them. Giles, Spike and Angel had entered the room when Buffy had Travers pinned against the bookcase and they stood in a semi circle around the Council head now.





“You’ll be fired, then,” Travers told him.


“That won’t be necessary. I quit,” Giles told his boss in a voice more like Ripper than Giles.


Buffy stepped back towards the Council head, her voice still low and dangerous. “If I wasn’t clear before, my family, includes Giles, Spike, all my friends, Angel, and all of Angel’s crew. I’m sure if you really try, you can figure out someone else in this world to fuck with that I don’t know.” Even though Buffy still wasn’t one hundred percent sure about how much she could trust Angel, that would be for her to decide, not the Watcher’s Council.


Buffy leaned in even closer to Travers, her mouth hovering next to his ear and whispered, “Don’t test me. The Big Bad in this house isn’t the vampire, Quentin. It’s me.”


Buffy stepped back and smiled ruefully at the Council head. Waving an arm towards the door she said, “Your ride back to the airport should be here soon. Why don’t you go meet them at the street?”


When Travers didn’t move she said with raised brows and wide eyes, “Or, I’m sure Angel would be happy to give you a ride . . . wouldn’t you Angel?”


Before Angel could respond, Travers started moving quickly towards the door. “No, no that won’t be necessary . . .”


Buffy followed behind Travers out into the garden to watch and make sure he left. She knew Xander would be by any minute with the rest of the “hyenas” to pick the leader up and take them all back to the airport.


“When did she get so scary?” Angel asked Spike when Buffy was out of earshot.


Spike shrugged. “When people started fuckin' with ‘er family, mate.”

August 2003, In the other dimesion where Spike died alone in the Hellmouth and was sent back to L.A. to work with Angel at W&H.


**~**


“Yes, Buffy. Yes. Yes, she’s secure. Yes, Buffy, I’m sure! Listen. Buffy . . . Buffy, listen! I’ve got a wonderful surprise for you!! You won’t believe it when you see! A golden, well musc . . .”


Spike grabbed the phone away from Andrew and covered the mouthpiece.


“One more bloody word and I’ll throttle you until your eyeballs pop out of your head!” Spike threatened Andrew as they waited for the plane to take off from L.A.


“Ok, ok!” Andrew said, holding his hand out for the phone.


Spike held a finger up to him in warning. “I mean it, not another bloody word!”





Andrew shrugged and rolled his eyes as he stood up, one hand on his hip and his other hand outstretched for the phone. Spike handed it back to him and Andrew continued, “Buffy? Sorry, musta been a bad . . . crrrrcrrr . . . con . . . crrrkrrr . . . nection. Is it better now? Good. Yeah . . . you’ll see when we get there . . . Yeah. Yes, I’m SURE she’s secure. Ok. Ok. Bye.”


Andrew gave Spike a look like “happy now?” as he put the phone away, sat down in a seat across the aisle from Spike and fastened his seatbelt before the plane began to taxi for take-off.


Spike still wasn’t sure this was a good idea. He looked out the window and the pregnant Buffy from the other dimension was watching the plane from the private hanger where they’d boarded. He knew she would kick his ass if he tried to get off the plane now.


“Fortune favors the brave,” she’d told him. “And above all else, I know you’re brave.”


Spike blew out a long breath and closed his eyes. He wasn’t so sure about that just now.


Andrew filled him in on everything that was going on with the Scoobies on the flight over. Giles had taken over the Council and the Scoobies, along with the original Slayers that had trained in Sunnydale, were scouring the globe for other newly empowered Slayers.





They had a campus in Rome, as well as one just outside of London, where they brought them for training. They had recruited many new Watchers, as well, and Giles was working with them, before matching them with a Slayer and sending them into the field.


Dawn was attending university in Rome while Buffy worked training the new Slayers there.


Spike listened to Andrew prattle on about all the Scoobies. He was happy to hear that they all seemed to be elsewhere at the moment, so it would just be Buffy and Dawn who would meet them in Rome. That would be better . . . Buffy alone, without the scrutiny of her friends, had always been better for Spike in the past.


When the plane landed in Rome, it taxied to another private hanger and stopped. Apparently, the Council under Giles’ direction was a lot less stingy with their money.


Spike stood up and moved to the window on the other side of the plane next to Andrew. There he saw Buffy and Dawn, along with a man, obviously Italian, standing next to them waiting.


Buffy laughed at something the man had said and leaned against him as she shook her head and said something back that made the man laugh, too. Spike’s stomach knotted. She’s moved on. I knew this was a bloody awful idea!


“Who’s that, then?” Spike asked Andrew. “You didn’t mention her new beau.”


Andrew looked out the window and a huge grin spread across his face. “Ramón!!” he squealed in delight, his eyes wide with excitement as he bounced happily in his seat. “It’s Ramón!” he repeated as he stood up, grabbed Spike in a hug and jumped excitedly up and down against him.





“Bloody hell, Andrew! Get off!” Spike said curtly as he pushed Andrew away. “Who the bloody hell is Ramón? Sounds like a nancy-boy name to me.”


“He’s my friend! He totally agrees that Timothy Dalton should get an Oscar and beat Sean Connery over the head with it!” Andrew informed him as he turned back to the window and waved out at the group on the ground.


Spike snorted. “Yeah, thought it was a nancy-boy name,” he muttered under his breath. “Everybody knows Sean Connery would whip Timothy Dalton’s pansy ass,” Spike informed Andrew.


“Would not!” Andrew retorted as he turned away from the window and back to Spike, his hands going to his hips.


“Would too!” Spike argued back, his own hands matching Andrew’s on his hips.


“Not!”


“Too!”


“Not!”


“Bloody hell . . .” Spike muttered to himself as he shook his head, rolled his eyes and dropped the subject. Like arguing with a bloody box a rocks.


Spike stood to the side and looked out the window again, carefully out of view of the people on the ground. Buffy was laughing and talking animatedly with Ramón and Dawn. She looked good. She’d let her hair grow. It fell long down her back now and danced like golden silk every time she moved.


The memory of the first time he’d seen her, when he’d come to Sunnydale to kill the Slayer and find a cure for Dru, filled Spike’s mind. Buffy had been dancing with Harris and Red at the Bronze. She had captured his heart then, even without him realizing it at the time. She had laughed at something one of her friends said and the whole room seemed to light up with the joy of her. He loved to see her smile and laugh . . . something that she had done very little of those last two years in Sunnydale.


Tears stung the back of Spike’s eyes as he watched her. She was laughing again. This is what he went into the Hellmouth for . . . to make a world where Buffy could laugh again - so she could have the happy life that she deserved.


“C’mon!” Andrew exclaimed, grabbing Spike’s arm and tugging him towards the now open door of the plane.


Spike pulled back away from him and sat back down in the seat. “No. Just have them take me back to L.A. now.”


“What!? You haven’t even seen Buffy and Dawn!” Andrew whined, stomping one foot down and waving his arm towards the group outside the window.


“Seen enough,” Spike said as he re-fastened his seatbelt and leaned back in the seat with his eyes closed.


Andrew reached down and started to unfasten the seatbelt from around Spike’s hips and, without opening his eyes, Spike caught his hand in an iron grip.


“You better be going for the seatbelt, Andrew . . . ‘cause anythin’ else would be very bad for you,” Spike said in a low, threatening voice.


Andrew huffed and pulled his hand away from Spike. Putting both hands on his hips Andrew said, “If you don’t come down and see Buffy and Dawn, I’ll call Angel and have him send that other Buffy over here to kick . . . your . . . ass.”


Spike narrowed his eyes at Andrew. “You wouldn’ dare.”


“I dare! I very well dare!” Andrew informed him as he raised his chin in defiance and squared his shoulders . . . well, attempted to square his shoulders . . . and folded his arms across his chest.


Spike blew out a breath and unfastened the seatbelt. “Fine . . . bloody well, fine,” he said, standing up. “You first . . .” Spike said, waving his arm towards the door.


“Oh no, Mr. 'I’ll get YOU off the plane and shut the door and be a big scaredy-cat-vampire and hide in here',” Andrew said backing up. “YOU first.”


“Bloody hell . . .” Spike muttered under his breath. Apparently Andrew had learned a thing or two since he’d last seen him.


Spike sighed and started for the door. Fortune favors the brave . . .


Spike watched Buffy and Dawn as he descended the stairs from the plane to the ground. Their faces were first awash in confusion and then concern . . . was this The First coming back again?


Neither one approached him as he reached the ground.


“LOOK! Look what I found in L.A.!!”Andrew exclaimed from behind him. “SPIKE! It’s Spike!” Andrew told them, grinning from ear to ear, as he patted a hand on Spike’s shoulder to show that it wasn’t The First. “He came back!”


“Spike?” Dawn and Buffy both said as they started moving towards him.


Dawn took off running and threw herself at Spike, grabbing him in a hug and nearly knocking him down. “SPIKE! Oh my God! It’s really you!” she exclaimed as he returned her hug.


“Yeah, it’s really me Niblett . . . although, not much of a Niblett anymore, are you, pet?”


Dawn pulled back to look at him. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed again. Turning back to Buffy, who had walked up behind her, she said, “LOOK! Buffy! It’s Spike!”


Dawn pulled away to leave Spike face to face with Buffy. Buffy had her arms folded across her chest, looking at him somewhat warily. “Spike? Is it really you?”


“Yeah, it really is, luv,” he told her as he took her in. She looked even better close up than she had from the plane. All the stress and worry and sadness of the last years in Sunnydale had been replaced with a peacefulness and she seemed to glow from within.


“How?” Buffy asked.


“Long story . . . the amulet . . . it took me out of the Hellmouth and dropped me in L.A. . . . which, is a hell all of its own . . .” Spike told her with a small smile.


“When?”


“Two or three months . . .”


“Why . . . why didn’t you come find . . . us?” Buffy asked with concern furrowing her brow.


Spike shrugged. “Didn’ know if you’d want me to . . .” he told her softly, dropping his eyes to the ground and stuffing his hands down into the pockets of his duster.


Buffy reached her hand out and laid it gently on his cheek. When he looked back up at her, she had tears in her eyes but a small smile on her lips.





“You’re such a dope sometimes, Spike. Don't you know that I love you?” Buffy said softly as the tears spilled from her eyes.


Spike closed his eyes to fight back the tears that threatened. He put one hand over hers on his cheek and turned to drop a tender kiss on her palm. His eyes glistened with joy when he opened them and looked at her.


“I love you, Buffy,” he said softly. "I've always loved you."


Buffy laughed through her tears and stepped up to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted up on her toes to take his lips in a tender kiss. It was the kind of kiss that Spike had dreamt of getting from her for years . . . soft, caring and full of love . . . not the rushed and frantic kisses that they'd shared before.


He wrapped his arms around her as she pressed her body against his and deepened the kiss. Her tongue slipped between his lips to taste him and his tongue swirled around hers in a slow dance as the world around them melted away.





Buffy had had nightmares about that day in the Hellmouth nearly every night since then . . . but it wasn’t the Turok-Han or The First that had filled her dreams, it was Spike’s words to her . . . “No you don’t, but thanks for saying it.” She had realized too late what she felt for Spike; how much she loved and needed him - how he completed her. She cried for him every night and wished and prayed that she could have just one more chance to tell him, to show him, how very much he meant to her.


Someone, somewhere, had heard her prayers.


For once, wishes weren’t horses.