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Author's Chapter Notes:
Previously: Emma let it slip that she'd noticed her parents hadn't exactly been acting like themselves and thought making them fall in love would solve it all. For all of you who are confused, nope, she wasn't responisble for the swap. :) Then Buffy finally got to rub over Spike's nakedess and BOOM, they're back in the good old Sunnydale.

This chapter is a longer one as well. Big thanks goes to my beta All4Spike. She's brilliant, and any error you see is all mine, especially since I've added quiet a bit to the chapter after her wonderful suggestions.

I'm shutting up now. Enjoy!
Chapter 18

“Buffy!” someone screamed her name, and it wasn’t him. He wished he could close his eyes and pretend this was a dream. Wished they were still back at the cabin with her heat soaking into his flesh and her lips a breath away.

She must have heard it too, but her eyes never left his, her fingers reaching out to wind around his wrist.

“We’re back,” she said and yeah, they were.

“About time, eh?” he asked, the grin not quite fitting on his mouth.

“I could have stayed longer,” she said just as he caught a flash of red hair over her shoulder, followed by Red’s girlfriend’s watchful eyes as they both drew near.

“Me too.”

He twisted out of Buffy’s grasp.

“Buffy! Buffy, is that you? I mean,” Red shook her head, gesturing wildly, “the Slayer-y you? Please, tell me that it worked because I’ve run out of ground dragon teeth and they’re so not cheap and if it didn’t work this time Giles is going to kill m—”

“Willow!” Buffy cut in and even though all Spike saw now was the back of her head, he could hear the smile in her voice. At least one of them was happy. “Take a deep breath, please. To answer your question… yes. It’s me. I’m pretty sure. Slayer parts included.”

Willow jumped on her and just about strangled her in a hug that Buffy returned. “I missed you!”

Glinda was staring at him, her gaze skittering away as soon as he caught her eye.

“What about them?” he asked, unsettled, jamming his hands into his coat pockets to keep himself from acting out of habit and touching Buffy as though he still had the right. He tried not to think about having her in his arms just a few minutes before. “Our all human doppelgangers? ‘R they back then?”

He didn’t like the idea of Pidge being left to her own devices. Someone had to keep her from downing all the sugar in the cabin and make sure she was warm enough and that she wasn’t anywhere near anything sharp or pointy when she was playing. And… she had to be all right. Had to.

Willow stepped away from Buffy and looked at him, her cheeks turning almost as red as her hair. The bird needed to take it easy before she had a heart attack from all the jittery nerves. Not that he cared either way. It was bad enough that he cared about Buffy and Emma.

“Umm… vampire Spike?”

He closed his eyes, the bones in his face shifting, his fangs elongating. Everything was sharp and loud and overwhelming as though he’d been living underwater for the past two and a half weeks. “Does this answer your question?”

“Yup. One vampiric Spike, check.”

“So? How about you answer my question then?”

“He’s grumpy,” Willow whispered to Buffy, who just gave a weak smile in return. She wanted to reach behind and take his hand and tell him to stop grinding his teeth, but she didn’t. Didn’t think he’d let her right now.

“I’m pretty sure they’re both back. I mean, that’s how it works. And how do you even know about the switch? I mean, obviously you’d have known you were in the wrong place, but—”

“How did we know our doppelgangers took our place here?” Buffy filled in.

Willow nodded.

“There were… clues,” Buffy said. Lots and lots of clues. “We found their cabin. In the woods. It was a bit of a trek because of all the snow, but we found it. And pictures and stuff.”

“Have you,” Tara started, “Have you found her then? Their, umm, daughter? They were v-very worried about her.”

“Massively freaking out,” Willow added. “It’s a good thing we managed to keep Xander from spilling about Spike’s vampire status.”

“Wanker,” Spike muttered under his breath, but Buffy heard him anyway.

“Yup, we did. She was a handful. Very cute and—”

“She had your pout,” Spike said, the sharp edges of his face softening. She wondered if she was the only one who saw it. “And your violent streak, unfortunately. My bum still hurts from that time she tackled me to the floor. At least give a poor bloke a warning.”

“Oh, please. She totally had your manipulative streak. And your obnoxious smirk.” And those blue eyes and the way she’d tilt her head. “I’m not the only one with the problematic genes.”

“Well, they weren’t exactly your genes,” Willow said, glancing back and forth between the two of them as though they were a time bomb.

“I know that,” Bufffy said, warily, “but she was just… a lot like us, that’s all. Maybe they weren’t so different, personality-wise.”

“Yeah, but she still married Spike,” Willow said, grinning as though it was the biggest joke of all. “Don’t think you’d ever do that.”

Buffy could practically feel the tension radiating off of Spike, could picture the way the muscle in his jaw was ticking right now.

Before either of them could say anything, Tara cleared her throat. “H-how about we take this inside?” she suggested, wringing her hands and glancing over her shoulder at what Buffy noticed was a dead demon. Probably the one that had zapped them in the first place, and woah. They were back. In the same place they’d stood two and a half weeks ago when she and Spike still despised each other and spending time together seemed like the worst punishment in the world.

She looked over at him, saw past all the black leather, menacing stare and hunched shoulders and saw… him. She didn’t want to go back to that.

*******

She’d dragged him to the house with her, dodging Willow’s questioning looks and ignoring Spike’s protests.

“Don’t you want to be filled in too?” she’d asked, to which he’d given a grunt she’d chosen to interpret as a yes.

“How did you do it?” she asked Willow as they walked out of the cemetery. “Switch us back? Because I had this slayer dream and mojoing us back here seemed to be a big ‘nope’, with the side of ‘try again later’.”

“You saw that, huh? It’s wiggy that you can do that. Wiggy and cool.”

“Very cool,” Tara said, Spike lagging somewhere behind like a big, black shadow. “Sorry it took us that long. The ingredients weren’t easy to get.”

“Almost two weeks,” Willow said and Buffy thought, it was a bit longer for us. “We did try some spells at first,” Willow looked over at Tara, almost in reassurance, “None of them worked, which is probably good, because we might have made you switch places with some other versions and it would have been one big mess, so we… well, we kind of turned back time instead.”

“What? You can do that?”

“Well, no,” Willow admitted. “Giles knew someone from his days of misguided youth, apparently. The ingredients of the spell weren’t exactly legal. It was an old favour kind of thing. He didn’t want to talk about it much.”

“As opposed to him being his usual blabbermouth self,” Buffy piped up, thinking, I missed you guys. But I’m starting to miss the cabin too. A lot more than I can admit right now.

“Yup.”

They made it back to Revello as Willow filled her in on Giles flying back from London to help with the spell and Xander powering the research by bringing refreshments. It was almost comforting in its familiarity and yet, exhausting too.

The house was quiet when they came in, her mom having already gone to bed. She’d always been a heavy sleeper, so Buffy wasn’t worried they’d wake her up.

She sat down on the sofa in the living room, absentmindedly searching for a throw pillow that wasn’t there. She realised then that it wouldn’t be. Not the stupid pillow, the loft, snow gathering outside the windows or make-believe tea parties with Emma.

When Spike perched on the arm of the sofa she wondered if he felt it too; that disquiet in his stomach. If she reached out, she could touch him, make sure that at least they could stay the same, but she folded her hands in her lap instead. Why doesn’t this feel like home anymore?

“How?” she asked Willow. “How did you find them?”

She could hear Tara puttering around in the kitchen, opening and closing the cabinet doors, the gurgle of boiling water. Buffy didn’t want tea, but she’d take it anyway.

Willow sat sideways right next to Buffy, facing her. “They kind of found us. They came to your mom’s house. Apparently, there’s a Sunnydale in their universe too, only without the annual apocalypse event. This house is where they live.”

“Every time I think my life can’t get any weirder, something comes up and proves me wrong.” Buffy closed her eyes, let her head rest again the back of the sofa that wasn’t as plush and as worn in as the one at the cabin. “It just feels so weird… that we’re back in time.” She opened her eyes, saw the Christmas tree with the star sitting on top all askew and almost felt sick, as if she was reliving someone else’s memories, not her own. “What were they like?”

“Umm, they were… well, kind of like you, sort of. More… handsy with each other, in a non-murdery way. It was spooky, even for the Hellmouth standards.”

Buffy turned her head and met Spike’s eyes, his mouth flattened into a thin line, arms drawing his coat tighter around his frame. It had been a while since she’d seen him in his leather armor.

“What about the demon?” he finally spoke, breaking the eye contact. “Should we be worried about a repeat performance?”

“I don’t think so. I mean, no. Its kind isn’t known for coming in packs. We’re pretty sure it was just another demon after the Slayer. This one was just more of an interdimensional-magicky kind than a brawly one. Probably thought it would be easier to switch you with a human counterpart and then kill her so you could never come back. Non Slayer-y Buffy makes for an easy target. Or… that’s what the demon thought, because human Buffy totally got her slay on too, as they told us.”

“That, and I bet it didn’t count on you guys fixing it all,” Buffy said, smiling a little.

“Nope.” Willow smiled, all earnest and familiar. “We still don’t know why Spike got zapped too, though.”

“I think I do,” he said just as Tara shuffled into the living room with two cups of tea, steam curling into the air, her long skirt swishing around her ankles. “We were touching then, Bu-Slayer and me. We were quarreling, if I remember it right. Could have been the reason, right?”

“We can look into it tomorrow, but I think that would make sense. The human body is a conductor, so the energy would have travelled through you both and presto… mass zapping.”

Tara handed one cup to Buffy, the heated ceramic warming her skin. The other mug ended up in the hands of a puzzled Spike.

“Not human, love. Don’t really need this.”

Tara shrugged and went over to sit next to Willow. “T-time traveling can be tough on anyone.”

Buffy saw their pinkies graze and entwine then dropped her gaze to the rippling surface of the tea. Spike had done the same thing one night when they’d been dozing off in front of the TV, and they’d both pretended it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to go back to the way things had been before, to the mean jibes and the unrelenting game of one-upmanship. She couldn’t.

“Nobody knows but us,” Tara said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I mean, about what really happened while you were t-there… only Willow and I remember because we were the ones who helped cast the spell.”

“Yup,” Willow added. “You can feel grateful about that later because I don’t think I’ve ever heard Xander complain that much about PDA in my life, and that’s saying something.”

If Xander only knew. “Right. Grateful. Very,” Buffy said, taking a polite sip of the tea before putting it on the coffee table. “Also, a bit tired. A lot, actually. I guess time travel can do that to you.”

“Oh no. Of course,” Tara said, standing up and pulling Willow along. “We should go.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Buffy,” Willow said.

“Are you guys going to be okay? I can walk you home if you want me to,” Buffy said, already rising from the sofa when Willow said, “No. Really. Two powerful witches right here. We’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure,” Willow said, both her and Tara’s voices calling out ‘bye’ in unison.

“See you guys,” Buffy said, slumping back into the sofa the second she heard the door close.

“Do you think she’s all right?” Spike said, and she didn’t have to ask what he meant. She knew.

“I feel like she is. Wouldn’t we know? If she was in trouble?”

He shucked off his coat and sat down next to her, his thigh against hers. She didn’t feel like that much of a stranger in her own home anymore.

“Not sure it counts in this case. She was never ours. Not really.”

“But you loved her,” she said, holding her breath.

He tensed and she was almost certain he wouldn’t reply at all. But then he said, “Thought you slayers didn’t believe vampires could love anyone. Soulless ones, that is.”

“I don’t know what I think anymore. But I know I’m not like other slayers.” You said it yourself, you and me have never played by the rules. Why should this be any different?

“No, no you’re not. A good thing, I reckon. If you were, I’d have been dust in the wind a long time ago.”

“Yay me.” Her limbs were growing heavy, her head too light. And if she shifted closer to Spike and let her head rest on his shoulder, that was okay because there was nobody there to see it and judge. “I feel strange. Can’t believe we’ll have to live through the same holiday again. At least we don’t have to,” the world seemed blurry, “decorate again.”

“I didn’t buy you a prezzie,” he said, his tone bordering on teasing.

“Prepare for my wrath then. Might make you do my laundry for a whole month.”

“’M shaking in my boots already. Nothing worse than braving the washing machine.”

She might have mumbled something in reply, something about fabric softener, she thought. It was too hard to make sense of the words when her brain was shutting down.

*******

She woke up before sunrise, disoriented, her feet tangled up in the duvet she must have kicked off some time after falling asleep. Her hand grappled around, landing in the cold empty space next to her. Something wasn’t right.

“Sp—” she started to say when it all came back to her. She knew he wouldn’t be there even before she opened her eyes and peered around to find herself in her bedroom alone. She was pantless and braless and slightly chilly, her limbs too clumsy as she sat up. She felt as though she hadn’t slept at all.

I’ve always preferred sleeping alone. This missing him next to me thing is just a habit. A habit I can break.

But not tonight. Not yet. It should be gradual, shouldn’t it? Wasn’t that what people said? Taking a sip every day instead of gulping down the whole bottle?

And since when had Spike become an addiction?

Her bare feet hit the carpet and she was on her way downstairs and slipping through the basement door before her brain could tell her she was being pathetic.

For a second she worried he wouldn’t be there at all, but she knew he was when the cigarette smoke hit her nose. Maybe it was a good thing he’d chosen to sleep in the basement rather than the guest room. A lesser chance of being overheard.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked as she came down the stairs, his back against the wall and a sheet thrown over his lap.

“You do realize ash and bedding equal flammable badness, right? You’re going to set yourself on fire.”

He took a long, deliberate drag, lips smirking around the filter. “Always wanted to go out with a blaze.”

“How very suicidal of you.” Her feet were starting to get cold and she was suddenly very aware that the only things she was wearing were panties and a T-shirt.

“Not suicidal,” he protested. “I just like living on the edge.” He blew the smoke out, the smell of it sharp and acrid. She hated it when he smoked, even if he made the vice look hot. “’S probably why I still hang around good old Sunnyhell.”

“Come for the murder, stay for the, well… murder.”

“Don’t stand there like a twit, Slayer. There’s a plenty of room on this cot.” His eyebrow flicked up, all lascivious-like.

She rolled her eyes and flopped down next to him, the springs of the old mattress whining in protest and digging into her butt. “Comfy.”

“I’ve had worse,” Spike replied, throwing the corner of the sheet over her legs. “At least there are no massive windows here.”

“You took my pants off,” she said, watching as he took the last drag and ground the butt against the cot’s metal frame, dropped it onto a growing pile by the bed. If Mom saw, she’d have a cow.

“Which time?”

Blood rushed to her cheeks. Damn him “Tonight, perv.”

“Nothing pervy about that. Just thought you’d sleep better without your jeans on.”

“Or my bra.”

“Yeah, or your bra.” He grinned. “I might have copped a feel.”

She kicked him in the shin.

“Just joking, bloody hell!”

The kick was partly for that, and partly for the other thing, “You left me alone.”

“Did you want me to stay?” His voice was tentative, as though he was treading on a minefield.

“I just didn’t expect for you to not be there. I just… I got used to… well, having you next to me all the time. What if I woke up and wanted to tell you that I think your hair looks stupid when it gets all curly? What then, huh?”

He looked mildly horrified. “My hair’s not curly.”

“It is, too. It’s all cute and cherubic.”

“Sodding cute? Cherubic? You take that back!”

She shook her head, daring him to ‘make her’.

He pounced on her, the weight of him pressing her into the mattress, his eyes turning sharp and dark, dark blue.

“I’m not taking it back,” she whispered, her arms trapped against his chest. She wasn’t sure if she meant the comment about his hair or something else entirely.

Knew you were stubborn, he wanted to say. Stubborn just like me. He wondered how much longer he’d get to act this way, as though they were more than just former enemies turned into reluctant allies, turned into something else that made him feel as though he was burning inside his own skin. Going out in a blaze indeed. “Didn’t think you wanted me to stay.”

“I didn’t know either. Guess some habits are harder to break.” Her heartbeat picked up. “I couldn’t sleep without you.”

“Couldn’t sleep without you either,” he admitted, nosing at her jaw. “You messed me up.” Can’t fucking rest without you making me warm. “Didn’t want to risk your mum catching me strolling out of your bedroom though. She doesn’t know anything. All she knows is that we still… that we’re the same we were before. How fast do you reckon she’d chop my balls off if she thought I was taking advantage of your unsullied virtue?”

“Not so much with the unsullied anymore,” she said, her skin growing hotter.

Oh, he knew. Wanted to do a bit more sullying right now, but he couldn’t. Because as much as she’d insist nothing had changed, she’d change her tune soon enough.

“Can I stay here? Just for a bit? I’ll sneak out before mom gets up.”

“How illicit,” he said, biting down on her shoulder, wishing it wasn’t so hard to say no.

“Can I, then?”

“Buffy, do you think this is a good idea? We’re not there anymore. This is different and pretending it’s the same will just,” bloody hurt, “not work in the long run.”

“Do you remember when you asked me if I could trust you?” she asked, as serious as he’d ever seen her. And even though he had no idea where she was going with this, he nodded anyway.

“Well, do you trust me?”

He looked away. A million dollar question, wasn’t it?

“You don’t, do you?”

“I do,” he said, quietly. “I shouldn’t.” He wanted to so badly, to just let himself fall in, but he knew her friends meant everything to her and none of them would be okay with Buffy shacking up with him. They’d be right, too.

“Since when do we do the things we should? You were the one who told me we bend the rules. So, this is me. Bending them.”

It wasn’t supposed to be this easy. To just see the stubborn jut of her jaw and the conviction in her eyes and think it’s too late to keep myself from falling. He’d known. Known he’d end up bloody losing himself, but he’d gone on and taken the plunge anyway.

“Yeah, we do. We always do the things we shouldn’t.” He buried his face in her neck, glad she didn’t see the way his hands were shaking. “Stay. Stay here for the night.”

TBC


Chapter End Notes:
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