Disclaimer: I don't own a thing.

Summary: Post AtS and BtVS, Faith and Xander are approached by a secret government agency. Surprises all around.

Rating: PG-13

Chapter 8: Duality

Faith shot forward, attacking the doubles who had come through the portal. As she slammed a fist into the double of Spike and kicked at the woman who looked more like a mirror than anything else, she felt her world explode in a white sheen.

She blinked her eyes, finding herself lying on her back below herself. "Hello, sweetums," said the double standing over her, grinning widely. "Don't you know it's rude to start a fight without bantering first?"

Faith rolled away quickly, elbows and knees scraping the sharp earth. She could already feel blood starting to flow, and her back hurt. The touch of the hot air on her back stung.

Then Spike, the real Spike, charged forward, punching the mirror-Faith away. "Banter? You want banter?" he asked angrily as she flew away. "Try fighting Tom Arnold." He followed up his words with a lightning fast attack, leaping forward at the mirror-Faith.

Faith batted him away. "Not fair!" she snarled. "You're supposed to fight yourself!" She lunged at the real Faith, who was ready, snapping herself upright with a quick twist and launching a few blows, snapping them out at her double.

She could see the vampiric Spike attacking the real one, and quickly slammed a punch into her double, sending the sneering Slayer-form flying back at the door and leaping at Spike's opponent, slamming a fist into his head, not letting up.

As she waled on the vampire, Spike moved back, watching the Slayer-double who stalked closer. "You're supposed to fight yourself," noted the mirror image, sneering. "Doesn't anyone follow the rules any more?"

"This is me, love," said Spike, grinning. "Can you name one solitary instance where I've followed the rules?"

She sneered at him, moving closer. "Come on, Spike. Do you really think this'll get you back into Buffy's good graces? Do you really think this will change things?"

Spike sneered. "You couldn't begin to understand why I'm doing this," he replied. "It stopped being about Buffy a long time ago. Do you know why I stayed by Angel's side?" He charged forward, punching the faux Slayer, knocking her off her feet to the ground, where he slammed a boot down at her. She rolled out of the way.

"Because you were afraid to go back to Buffy," the false Faith snarled.

"Not even close," said Spike, his eyebrows moving together in a dark scowl. "Although, yeah, that was there. No, the real truth of the matter—the real pain in my neck—is that I stayed in LA because I knew what was coming." He attacked again, kicking her as she tried to get up. "I knew what he had gotten himself into, and I knew...I knew he needed help. That's laughable, isn't it?"

The fake Faith, trying to rise, coughed. "A real bucket of laughs," she agreed weakly. He kicked her again, the sharp snap of ribs breaking echoing through hell.

"Worse than that," snarled Spike, leaning down and punching the Slayer. "There I was, hanging around to protect the one man I hated most in all the universe. Well, aside from Riley. And the whelp."

"But you failed," noted the Slayer below him, lashing out with a kick that knocked him off his feet. She drew herself up quickly, advancing on him. "He died, despite your help."

"So did I," pointed out Spike. "But we knew what we were getting into to. It was hardly a surprise!" He retaliated with a vicious attack, driving her back.

There was a sudden sound, like a window breaking, and Faith turned in surprise, to see the vampiric Spike dissolve into dust. The real Faith glared back at her, advancing slowly.

"You're a liar," seethed the real Faith.

"What? I haven't said anything!" protested the fake Faith.

"Not you!" snapped Faith. She turned to Spike. "You said you'd lost your powers!"

"I did not!" he replied indignantly. "Just said I wouldn't be much good in a fight. The whole lack of clarity and sanity thing coming back to haunt me. Never meant I'd lost anything." He punched the fake Faith, knocking her to the ground. "It hurts me that you'd accuse me of lying. I'm many things, but a liar isn't really one of them. Not any more."

The real Faith darted forward, the stake in her hand out, and stabbed the copy of herself in the heart, holding down any feelings of confusion. And wouldn't a psychiatrist have a field day with this? Here she was, killing herself.

Spike stared at the body as it turned to ash and imploded, much like a vampire's body. "Isn't that interested," he drawled, glancing at the door. He rushed to it, grabbing for the door handle.

The impact threw him through the air, slamming him into the ground. He groaned, twitching. "Aaagh..." he muttered.

"Brilliant, Einstein," said Faith sarcastically. "We faced the challenge and the door is open, but we still can't get near it."

"Oops," said Spike.

--

Connor and Buffy stood watching the portal form, standing over the bodies of the demon's they'd fought. Buffy was breathing hard, and Connor had broken into a heavy sweat.

Harmony stood behind them, glowering.

"So, was that Latin?" asked Buffy. "I've never been big on the Latin, so I didn't understand it."

"Actually, it was Thygaumenon," replied Connor. "I can't quite seem to get the hang of Latin either. I blame Angel for that—it's a lot easier to learn other languages when you're focused to almost inhuman levels. Being a normal human makes the other languages a little harder to learn. Although I'm still getting at least a C plus in Latin."

"Right," said Buffy, looking away.

"Although if I never get back to college, what with saving the world, I'll never know," added Connor. "The whole secret identity things sucks, big time. I spend all my time studying and killing things, and end up with a C- average. My folks thinking I'm slacking!" Connor glanced at Buffy. "You're a Slayer, right? You've done the whole secret identity thing, right?" Buffy nodded. "How did you make that work?"

"I never did get the hang of it," said Buffy with a little sigh.

Connor made a face. "Great," he muttered. "I'm thinking as soon as I'm out of college I'll just do things the way dad did them. No secret identity, just a great big sign on the door."

Buffy frowned. "You called him Angel a minute ago," she noted.

"What? Oh, the mix-up," said Connor, nodding. "I get a little confused, from having both memories."

"Both...memories?" asked Buffy, uncertain.

"Is it my turn to do the spiel?" asked Harmony.

"No," said Connor. "Buffy would probably stake you. I was kind of a bad guy," he admitted, scowling a little. "Nearly killed a lot of people. Nearly killed dad...Angel. He and I were...anyway, he wiped my memories and gave me a family."

"And...you have both memories, now?" asked Buffy.

Connor shrugged. "It's like a dream, really, the real Connor. A bad, scary, violent, and at times, um, a dream."

Buffy frowned at him, trying to absorb it all. "So, you're Angel's son, but he took away your memories, but they weren't really taken away?"

"Oh, they were really taken away. But then someone put them back," said Connor.

"So he took your old memories away and gave you new ones, and then you got your old ones back. And now you and Spike are breaking into hell?" Buffy tried to make it all make sense, but couldn't quite get over that one. "How'd you meet Spike?"

"The first time, I watched him getting beat up by a ..." Connor trailed off, frowning. "By an Old One, actually," he admitted, leading Buffy to frown. "Then he came to me. I didn't know him, really—didn't know any of the history between him and Angel. He was pretty incoherent then. If I hadn't..." Connor trailed off, glancing at Buffy.

"If you hadn't helped him, he wouldn't have made it?" asked Buffy. "You think I didn't try to help him?" There was very real anger in her voice.

"He doesn't think you did," replied Connor. "And you must have thought he was crazy. I'm certainly not in a position to judge. I thought he was crazy too."

"But you agreed to help him," noted Buffy. "Why?"

Connor shrugged, glancing back at Harmony, who made a face. "What he means," said Harmony, "is that it was one of those crazy Sire/Childe things."

Buffy glanced back at Harmony, confused. "What?" she asked, her eyes narrowing into a squint. "What does that mean?"

Connor glanced at Harmony, frowning. "Spike was related to Angel. Not in a nice, fluffy way, either. More in a screaming evil way."

"Screaming evil?" asked Buffy. Connor shrugged.

"Best I can do." Connor glanced back at Harmony again. "You know, it was weird. Big happy Manson family moment. We kind of bonded over my former hatred and his current hatred for my father."

Buffy scowled. "Yeah, I never got that," she admitted.

Connor scowled. "I have trouble getting it now," he admitted. "It's the whole father figure thing. Which is kind of wiggy, when you consider how much older than me Spike is."

Buffy's scowl faded a little. "Well, I guess I never did see him as a father figure."

Connor made a face. "Ew! Bad mental place!" he said. Buffy raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. "I mean, bad enough I had to get the low-down on my dad's relationship with you from Spike, but that...yeah, nuff said."

"That must have been an interesting discussion," huffed Buffy, looking irritated.

Harmony frowned. "Yeah, like it's been easy for me, seeing my blondie bear do nothing but mope around and dream about you for, oh, years!"

Buffy turned, glaring at the vampire. "Vampire, no soul, dust bait," hissed Buffy. Harmony quickly made a zipping motion across her mouth, twisted her hand as if locking it, and threw her hand over her shoulder.

Buffy rolled her eyes, turning back to Connor. "Okay, what were we talking about?"

"How weird it is for me to be talking to one of my dad's old girlfriends," said Connor, grimacing. "We can move on, if you like."

Buffy sighed, glaring at the portal that was forming slowly. "Why is it taking so long?" she asked.

"Because it's a tear in reality," replied Connor. "We need control, above all else."

--

Xander sat with Dawn, twirling a set of keys in his hand. "What really gets me," he said softly, "is that Spike got some kind of twisted revenge on D'Hoffryn."

"They might have set that up for you, made a big show to try and turn you to their side," said Dawn dubiously.

"Assuming they knew we were coming," countered Xander. "It was an odd thing to do. Even knowing what we know now..."

Xander glanced around the empty library, sighing and rubbing his face. Dawn nodded, tapping the pages of the book open in front of her. "No assumptions, right?" she asked.

"No assumptions," he agreed.

"You miss Faith, don't you?" she asked.

He glared at her with his one eye. "She's only been gone a few days, Dawn. I couldn't possibly miss her foul language, her smelly smoking habit, and her annoying innuendos yet."

Dawn nodded, glancing away. "Somehow it all ties together, and we just can't see it," she said. "It was some big plan."

"When'd you get all grown up?" asked Xander suspiciously. Dawn glared at him, biting her lower lip.

"Sometime between my mom dying, Buffy dying, and being sentenced to living in the same house with the walking ego," she said. "And there was something in there about my best friend trying to rape my sister. My world turned pretty ugly in a hurry, and in the middle of all that, yeah, I've done my best to grow up. So what?"

"No, I mean, tall," said Xander. "I just realized you're as tall as me now."

Dawn laughed. "Okay, at least one of us grew up," she said, glancing around to make sure nobody was near them and listening. "I'm going to ask Giles for a status report on the Angelus situation later."

"Good," muttered Xander.

"In the meantime, we need to figure out Spike a little better. Are you up for a session with Riley?" Xander stared at Dawn uncertainly.

"You want to go talk to Riley?" he asked, his voice a bit off.

"Now," said Dawn firmly. "He's seen Spike. Better than that, he can take us straight to Drusilla."

Xander stared at Dawn, and for a second he felt like yelling at her as if she was a little girl again. He wanted very much to simply begin screaming, and ranting, and throwing his arms about.

But, of course, she was right. Drusilla understood Spike better than anybody else.

"Let's go," said Dawn, seeing that he wasn't going to fight it.

"At some point in your life, you became a brat, you know that?" asked Xander.

She grinned. "It was when Buffy died and everybody started giving me whatever I wanted," she told him.

As Xander stood he felt a creaking in his hip, where he'd been clawed by a hell hound at some point. A bleak reminder that he was all too mortal. An even bleaker reminder that Faith was there to save him.

She'd been the one who pulled the hell hound off him after he'd been stupid enough to end up under it. He'd been nearly torn to shreds, and had ended up with only a few cuts in the end.

Thanks to her.

His relationship with Faith, always a touchy subject, seemed tailor made to send him into fits of paranoia and nervous fidgeting at the best of times. Now, with her gone and stuck in some hell dimension, he felt even worse.

He followed Dawn, who obviously already had a pretty good idea where Riley was. As they exited the spacious library and entered the barracks section of the government compound Xander unconsciously straightened up, squaring his shoulders, which caused another twinge of pain, this time in his back.

Riley was standing at a desk, flipping through a notebook in a quick, methodical way.

"Riley," said Dawn, her voice a little more forceful than Xander had expected. She really had grown up while he wasn't watching, he though in awe.

"Hi, Dawn," said Riley awkwardly. "Um, can I help you guys?"

Xander stepped forward, taking the lead quickly. He couldn't remember whether Dawn and Riley had ever gotten along, and he seemed to remember Dawn ending up with an undying hatred for Buffy's other boyfriends.

Or was that him?

"Riley, we need to know more about what Spike's done, what he plans to do, and why he's doing it," said Xander quickly. "What can you tell us?"

Riley shrugged. "Not much more than I've already said." He looked uncomfortable. "Are you going to ask to see Drusilla too?" he asked.

"Too?" asked Dawn, her eyes narrowing.

"I just sent Giles away with Major Hartney," said Riley. "He wanted to question her. He has a few Slayers with him—you didn't know about that, did you?"

"No," said Xander tightly. "Where is she? Here, in your new base?"

"We flew her out here yesterday," admitted Riley. "At Giles' request."

"Take us to them," said Dawn.

--

The portal appeared out of nowhere, on the earth side, just a quick zip of light. Harmony fell through first, and as soon as she had hit the ground she started running.

Buffy fell through next, with Connor right behind her, and the portal zipped closed again. Buffy glanced towards Harmony, tensing as if to give chase. Connor grabbed her arm, stopping her.

"Spike promised she could run away," he apologized. "Because she helped us. A lot. Almost enough to make up for betraying Angel, in her own way."

Buffy shook his hand off angrily. "Right, that makes it okay to let a vampire go!"

Connor shrugged. "You do what you have to, I guess," he said, stepping back. "But just remember, she's pretty much helpless."

"Except when she kills people!" snapped Buffy. "Why do you seem to forget that?"

Connor shrugged. "Because she's never really killed that many, and because she helped me break into hell. You know, the important things."

Buffy glared at him. "Yeah, that's right, you just broke into hell. Doesn't that make you the bad guy?"

"I'm doing this to save the earth," said Connor defensively. "Is that what makes people bad guys these days?"

"You're the Destroyer," hissed Buffy.

"I destroy demons," countered Connor quickly. "That's kind of an important distinction, you know."

She glared at Angel's son, then looked around. "Where are we?" she asked.

He glanced around quickly. "Somewhere near the secret hideaway," he responded. "Come on, let's go."

They moved away from the large billboard they'd appeared next to, wandering down the lonely street through the city. At the end of the street a green-skinned demon wearing a trenchcoat, sunglasses, and a fedora was standing waiting for them.

"Took you forever," he groused miserably. "I thought you were running away from the Slayers? And where's Spike?"

"Spike's still in hell. They wouldn't let me in," said Connor. "This is Buffy."

"The Buffy?" asked the demon. "Well, color me peach and call me Peaches." There was a depressed quality to his voice, and Buffy stared at him for a minute.

"This is one of your agents?" she asked Connor.

"This is Lorne," said Connor. "Lorne, do you suppose we could move inside? There's probably a dozen bounty hunters looking for Spike already, and I don't want them to see Buffy if we can avoid it."

"Keep your pants on, kiddo," groused Lorne, turning. "Follow the green demon," he said with a sigh, moving away at a quick walk.

"Lorne worked with my dad," explained Connor. "He's an old friend. Used to watch me when I was a baby."

"What was that? Two years ago?" asked Lorne grumpily. "I wouldn't even be helping you except that I'm oddly attracted to the idea of living the rest of my life with all my limbs."

Buffy glared at Connor, who shrugged. "Spike was a bit mad," he explained.

--

Faith stared at the door, bored out of her mind and ready to commit a particularly heinous act to Spike's body.

Spike, for his part, lounged about as if he had all of eternity to study the door. He had abandoned his duster, hell being hotter than he'd expected, and was wearing black jeans and a tight black tee.

"I'm going to throw your skinny butt through that door in a minute if you don't stop pacing!" threatened Faith.

Spike snorted, continuing to pace. "First, you couldn't if you tried. Second, I'm working on a plan here."

Faith sighed, sitting down and leaning her forehead against her knees. "What's your plan once we get through, anyway?" she asked.

Spike grinned. "Well, first we'll kill some blokes. Then we'll unleash destruction. Then...well, that's the hardest part. I'm not quite through with that plan yet."

"What plan?" asked Faith.

"There's a chance—a very small chance—that I can make things right," said Spike. There was a hint of his manic insanity in the statement, and Faith sighed theatrically. "Just a chance!" he added quickly.

"This is about Buffy, right?" asked Faith in disgust. Spike was silent for a long moment.

"I love her," he admitted. "More than anything else on earth. But she doesn't love me...and she never will. Do you know how much it kills me to admit that? It tears my heart out when I think about that. No, this is isn't all about Buffy. Things haven't been all about Buffy for a while."

The door opened.

Spike stared at it in disgust. "Oh, ha bloody ha!" he snorted, marching towards the door.

The sudden impact knocked him flat on his back, and he groaned, staring at the open door. "Oh," he said blankly.

Faith bounded to her feet. "What was that?" she asked, uncertain.

He groaned, standing up and rubbing his face. "Our worst enemy is ourselves," he grumbled. "We have to face that. Ergo, it's time for us to face your worst enemy, then presumably the force field will disappear."

Faith glared at him. "Run through that once more," she said suspiciously.

He sighed, rubbing his face again. "The door opened when I faced my worst fear—admitting out loud that Buffy doesn't love me. What's yours?"

"But we faced ourselves!" protested Faith. "I staked them both!" She glared at the open door, and the refracting colors beyond it. "We already did this!"

"It works on different levels, apparently," said Spike sourly. "So, let's get to your worst fear."