Chapter 4 – Early Monday, Standard Reality

The sane morning that our familiar Buffy woke to a strange new world, in the familiar Sunnydale, another Buffy woke to the sound of an alarm clock. "Funny, what did I set that for?" she thought, irritatedly reaching to switch it off.

She stretched like a cat. Of course, she didn't have to be up at any particular time. She turned to touch the body which shared her bed, surprised at the lack of contact. When she realised she was alone, she remembered. The argument. They'd had a blazing row last night. It was an ongoing bone of contention with them, but last night it got out of hand. Fear clutched at her, realising that he'd probably spent the night at his crypt. It was too dangerous now for him to do that. She had to go and make sure he was alright. Stupid pride – why couldn't he have just come back with her? Just because she was mad at him, didn't mean he couldn't stay here – maybe in another room? Ok, that probably wouldn't have lasted more than a couple of hours, but it wasn't important. Sometimes she thought he just didn't realise how dangerous this town was for demons these days. Ever since that awful Riley Finn had come to town with his bags full of electronic gizmos which allowed the people of Sunnydale to track demons. Not to forget the weapons he supplied.

Jumping out of bed, Buffy rushed to her wardrobe. As she opened it, she got her first shock. These weren't her clothes. She liked her clothes very feminine, floaty, soft. These weren't hers at all. Immediately thinking this was some sort of joke that Spike had decided to play, she went out to go the bathroom. To her amazement, she wasn't alone in her house. The girl she met was taller than Buffy, with long mid brown hair. She was younger too – still in her mid-teens. She was coming out of the bathroom as though she lived there.

"Hey, Buffy, how you doin'? Where'd you get to last night? By the time we'd finished our group sing, you were gone."

Buffy had stood looking at this stranger without speaking so far. She had been too shocked. Now, she was filled with indignation. "Who are you and what are you doing in my house?"

The stranger just smiled and answered, "Very funny, Buffy, I think I managed to get over the newly-made fourteen year old thing last year." Saying this, the stranger walked into the spare bedroom, closing the door behind her. The glimpse Buffy got of the other bedroom before the door closed had her confused. The stranger had gone into the storeroom. It had never been used as a bedroom – it was full of boxes and junk. She was about to follow the girl, when another intruder came out of her mom's room. Of course, her mom was dead, but she still called it her room. She hadn't changed anything much, just cleared out the personal things. This intruder looked vaguely familiar. She racked her brains to put a name to the face. The woman was about her own age, with long red hair. She was looking at Buffy as if she was worried. "What's the matter, Buffy? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Buffy managed to get her brain back into gear, stuttering "Y..you're Willow Rosenberg. I knew you at High School."

Willow was looking at her friend very strangely now. "Are you ok? Maybe you should sit down. Tara!" she called, as she led a very confused Buffy into her own room and sat her on her own bed. Try as she might, Buffy couldn't make sense of any of this. First there was a total stranger in the box room, and now someone she hadn't seen since High School was in mom's room. And then there was the mystery of her wardrobe. Things just got odder and odder.

Another stranger now entered the room. She was about the same age as Buffy, with long mid brown hair. Judging by the body language as she approached Willow, they were more than just friends. Both were looking at her, concerned, waiting for her to explain.

Buffy took a deep breath. "I think I must be going crazy. I went to bed last night in an otherwise empty house. No one else lived here – not permanently anyway. I woke up this morning to a stranger in my box room, someone I hardly know and her lover in my mom's room, and a wardrobe full of someone else's clothes. Can someone please explain?"

Willow and the other woman looked at one another. They obviously didn't know what to say. At last Tara started with, "I don't know what's happened. Your aura seems a little off, but you look like Buffy. It's almost like you've been switched. Y.. you're not the robot, are you? Spike hasn't been up to his old tricks again?"

Buffy's eyes opened wide in shock. "Spike! I'd almost forgotten. I have to make sure he's ok." She started to move away but Willow put an arm out to stop her. "Why would you be worrying about Spike? And why wouldn't he be safe? He's got nine lives, that one."

Buffy yanked her arm away and ran to her room to dress, leaving the others confused in the hallway. When she had pulled on some clothes – leather trousers and a halter-top – she came out again, hardly looking at the bemused expression on the other faces. "We'll sort this out later. First I've got to find Spike," she said, running down the stairs.

Buffy ran all the way to Spike's crypt. She was so afraid for him that she didn't notice the subtle differences in this Sunnydale. On arriving, she kicked open the door as she always did and ran to the trap door. Pulling it open she jumped into the lower section. She found him asleep on his bed as if he hadn't a care in the world. She sighed in relief. With complete familiarity, she pulled the light cover off him and got into bed beside him. He stirred at her touch and opened his eyes lazily. "Couldn't keep away, pet? Never mind, we've got all day to make up for being apart last night."

At these words, Buffy stiffened and jumped out of the bed. "You idiot. I've been scared for you. Why did you come back here? The vigilantes could've been waiting. They could still come. You've got to get up and come home with me. We can sort out our differences without you trying to get yourself killed."

Throughout her tirade, her lover had been looking up at her with tolerant good humour. "Sure you won't come back, love, you know what you do to me when you're angry?" To himself he added silently,"(Or happy, or sad, or just about anything to tell the truth)" Buffy looked at him in exasperation. She wanted to pull him out of bed and hit him, but from experience, she knew that wouldn't have the desired effect. That course of action would result in her ending up in bed with him, and while the idea was perfect, the timing was not. Instead, she folded her arms and started to tap her foot impatiently. "GET UP! And put on some clothes. You need to get out of here, and I need some help to explain why my house is full of strangers."

That got his attention. "What are you talking about, love? Only person in your house, apart from you, is me, unless we have a row."

"That's what I thought," she answered. "But I'm not saying anything else until you're dressed and we can get out of here."

Looking confused, Spike got out of bed, letting the sheet fall to the floor. He stretched, partly because he wanted to, partly to make sure she got a view of what she was missing, and went to find some clothes. As he dressed, he thought about her. There wasn't a day went by that he didn't thank whatever power it was which had given him the chance to share her life. In all his years, he had never met anyone like her. Technically, of course, she was the Slayer. She had just decided, when she was called, to have nothing to do with the whole thing. He smiled to himself over this. He really believed she was the only person who could have done that. She actually got her Watcher deported. Of course, he didn't know her then, but he got a kick out of hearing the story. He had come to Sunnydale to kill her. But after failing on his first attempt, he started to see the advantages in a Slayer who wouldn't play ball with the vested interests. And fortunately, it worked. She had fallen in love with him. The only problem was that he had fallen in love with her. He had ditched Dru and tried for a time to persuade her towards the darkness. He planned an alliance of evil. In fact, once they were together they both pretty well retired from either side. They'd just decided to enjoy life together. And it had been a good life at first. Until Riley Finn and the Initiative came along and decided to get rid of all demons once and for all. He'd even given up killing defenceless humans because she didn't like it. Not that that meant anything to Finn and his groupies. As far as they were concerned, the only good demon was a dead demon. Since then, they'd been living on their wits – trying to keep him alive. And her for that matter. He sometimes thought that was the reason for Finn's zeal. He'd met Buffy and fallen for her. Well, who wouldn't? But that was just after Buffy had first admitted that she loved him, and she stuck with him. To lose out on the girl he loved was bad enough. To lose out to a soulless, dead thing – a vampire - was more than the man could swallow. So he'd made up his mind to wipe out demons in Sunnydale. Spike didn't know where all the resources came from. He didn't really believe they were all financed by the Government as the official line insisted. They'd hidden out of town for a bit, but news came through a few months ago that Finn had left Sunnydale to try the same tactics elsewhere and they'd returned. It was better than it had been, but the vigilante groups he'd left behind still caused problems.

The argument the previous night had been about Finn. Or more exactly about Spike's belief that Finn was privately financed, and his wanting to find out where the money came from. And ideally to put a stop to it. Buffy had refused. They had tried to get her into the whole 'fight the good fight' thing when she was sixteen and she wouldn't have it. She certainly wasn't going to risk her life now. No amount of trying to persuade her that her life was already in danger had persuaded her yet. Last night, he had almost sensed she was weakening. He thought she had realised it too. That was why she'd been mad enough at him to refuse to let him share her bed. Which made him mad enough to storm out of the house. Which was why he had spent the night in his crypt. And she was right. It was a stupid thing to do.

When he was dressed, they headed for the tunnels. They weren't much used these days – there were hardly any demons left to use them. About a year ago, they'd put a trap door in the basement of Buffy's house which led directly to the closest tunnel. About twenty minutes after they entered the tunnel, they reached the place where the trap door was hidden. Only this time they couldn't find it. During the walk, Buffy had filled Spike in on what she had found in her house that morning. He wasn't sure he believed her, but came along anyway. The fact that the trapdoor was gone was disturbing. That meant they would have to get to her house the old-fashioned way, and they hadn't brought a blanket. With an 'I told you so' shrug, Buffy hoisted herself out of the manhole closest to her house and ran to get something to stop Spike from combusting. She ran to the house, pleased but confused to find it empty, and returned with an old blanket which, by the smell of it had been used for the same purpose before.

Once inside, Spike said, "Ok, love, where're your new house-mates?" House seems empty to me. Buffy had been checking downstairs as Spike spoke and returned to him with a note she had found in the kitchen.

Buffy,

We're really worried about you. Why did you rush off to Spike's this morning? Please don't do anything silly. We'll be back straight after classes today, and we'll see if we can help. We didn't tell Dawn you weren't feeling well so as not to upset her.

Willow and Tara

"See?" Buffy asked. "And come and look upstairs."

Still holding the note in his hand, Spike followed her upstairs. She opened the door to the box room to show the typical teen-age bedroom behind it. Then she opened the door to what had been her mother's room to show that it had been redecorated and was obviously occupied. They both retired to Buffy's room where she started to explore. Spike sat on the bed trying to make sense of what was going on. Looking around, he could see that the room was the same but different. The differences were subtle. He looked again at Buffy. He'd noticed her clothes earlier and had been surprised. It wasn't her usual style at all, but he reckoned she'd look terrific in rags and even better in nothing at all, so he hadn't mentioned it. Now, she was looking through her things and throwing them around the room in anger. He loved watching her when she was angry. It was even better when she wasn't angry with him. When she looked around at him again, there were clothes and shoes all over the floor. "Nothing here is mine!" she shouted at him. "I feel like my whole life had been taken away from me. And look!" She held out three stakes, which she had found during her search. "Since when have I kept stakes in my bedroom?"

Spike looked at the stakes with some trepidation. "I'm not sure I like seeing you with those things in your hand, love. Makes me feel all vulnerable. But you missed something. You may have lost some parts of your life, but you've still got me. You'll always have me – providing you put those stakes down. Why don't you come over here?" He smiled as he said this, that smile which he kept just for her. She complied, sitting beside him. He put an arm around her and pulled her closer to kiss her. Of course, after a night spent apart, the kiss soon led to other things.