Chapter One Hundred and Twenty

Down the Rabbit Hole

A/N ok this one is weird. It's weird and I'm ok with that. Are you?

The Magic Box II (est. 2005), New Sunnydale, the world without shrimp - May 2005

Anya stood - fingers poised - at the cash register. It had been a successful opening day. She couldn't stop herself from smiling it'd been that successful, Xander was sitting in the corner of the shop with his hands resting on the table, tallying up the log book. The shop had finally closed its doors after a very busy day, so busy in fact that they'd made a wad load of cast. That's all Anya seemed to be thinking about anyway.

"A very good takings today An," Xander called from the corner, thinking for a second that maybe this was going to well. But before his mind could spiral out of control with conspiracy theories Anya giggled with glee.

"Can you believe it? We made so much money. Now I know why I used to do this, I have missed this feeling." She rambled on, the notes in her hand feeling like diamonds as she stored them away in the cash register. She walked over to her husband and sighed loudly in his ear. "So what are going to do tonight to celebrate making all this money?"

Xander visibly jumped, he hadn't realised quite how close to him she was. But now that she mentioned it, and now that she was so close, he felt like feeling her up right in the shop. "An, we can't um, do anything here." He said standing up, blushing, immediately slamming the log book shut and turning around. Anya gave him a look.

"No of course we can't. I do not trust shop security since that thing with Spike happened." Anya said bleakly and walked away from him, a little disappointed Xander followed her like a puppy.

"But we can go home now if you like, the shop's shut." He suggested, slapping his hands down on the counter and gazing at her.

"No Xander. We have to clear up and set up for tomorrow and catalogue the stock and... Count. The. Money." Anya replied, pulling a dustpan and brush from underneath the counter and handing it over to her husband. He looked at her like she'd just slapped him in the face.

San Francisco, the world without shrimp - June 2005

Buffy's head rested against the table, the surface already making her forehead red and puffy. Her breaths becoming slower and slower, she fell into slumberland. She let her thoughts come in waves, a steam train floating in and out through her ears. When she awoke her head was no longer red and puffy but cold. There was a breeze rushing in filling the dry space between her and the table.

He was staring at her. His hair slicked back and blonde - now that was wrong. She checked the ends of her ponytail - still blonde. So this wasn't a reversal thing, what was it? She stood up quickly and walked over to him, "what are you?" She asked, her head cloudy and unsure.

"You know what I am Buffy? You slayed me once." He replied nonchalantly, she restrained herself from his gaze, not letting him penetrate her (figuratively or literally). Angel smoothed over his hair and stood up to face her, leering over her, he leaned down enough that she felt herself drawn into him, but not so much that their lips were actually touching.

"No, no no, Angel I can't." Buffy replied, pulling away from him and turning her back. Angel spun on his heels and re-imagined himself, as Buffy turned back around to talk some more, she found herself staring into Spike's homey blue eyes. She leaned into him, her body propelled forward by an invisible force. Gravity pushed them together, her hands clasped around his sharp cheekbones like they were handles. She felt him relax against her, his body so hard and toned, so sexy. He was cold, almost like ice underneath her skin. So she kissed him. She fell for his image and pressed her lips to his.

"A ha ha ha, got you!" Angel said, the form wrapped around her own changing the instant she opened her eyes. Angel's sticky-up brown mess of hair staring back at her as she tried to recoil away from him. That gravity was still there, binding her like rope, she squirmed, trying to resist him. But nothing worked. "Oh come on Buffy, you know you want me. You know you love me." She shook her head. Then nodded. Then he pressed his lips to hers and she sank into his kiss.

This continued for some time.

Her hair flicked over her shoulder as she moved against him. Her thumbs grazed his cheeks as their lips locked in heat. He felt warmer than Spike had, he felt alive. She could feel the faint pulse of his heartbeat thumping against her breast. She ached a little, the pit in her stomach yearning to be closer to him, to be inside him. He was something more than he used to be, did this mean they could finally be together? All logic had ceased to exist in Buffy as she melted into Angel's embrace. She felt herself twisting and turning, her feet collapsing under the weight of what was happening and she fell.

The floor gave way in a matter of seconds, the white expansive void they seemed to be standing in - table and chairs still beside them - was cracking. Buffy's right foot slipped, then her left and she was free falling. The air was thick and heavy and smelt faintly of blood and dirt. As she scrambled to try and control her own body, Buffy reached out and found herself caught on a ledge. Her fingertips clutching desperately at the rock. She was hanging from the edge of a cliff-like wall jutting out from a ravine. She resisted looking down and instead stared up at the surface.

"Nice catch!" Angel called down to her, his face lighting up. He was being overly cheerful, so happy at everything she did it was verging on creepy.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me?" She cried back, trying to pull herself up but scrabbling against the crumbling stone. The rock face was so soft it just came away like sand in her palms. Her legs scratched the side but she couldn't get a firm grip on anything. Angel kept on smiling away like nothing was wrong, his face contorting in her vision as it began to blur. The air was still so thick, and the smell was overwhelming her senses. She was going to pass out.

CLUNK.

When Buffy woke up she was lying in a hospital bed, the rest of the room foggy. Yet it appeared like the hospital bed was in her room at home, her old bedroom, in Sunnydale. There was a face hovering over her own. "Riley?" She mumbled. He kissed her forward and sat back in a chair beside her bed.

"I was so worried, we weren't sure if you were going to wake up - the doctors said- well it doesn't matter, you're awake." He was holding her hand, cradling it to his chin and gazing at her. "Joyce- Buffy's awake," he called down the hallway and her mother appeared at the door. Buffy blinked away her confusion and some stray sleepy dust. She pushed herself up and sat against the headboard, pulling herself away from Riley.

"Mom?" She said faintly, not feeling strong enough to drag herself out of bed, she waited for her mom to come over. But she just stood there, mug of tea in hand, staring, not saying anything. "Mom," Buffy repeated more urgently. This time forcing her legs over the side of the bed and striding over to her mother. She gripped the woman tightly making her stand back in alarm.

"What are you doing?" Joyce asked, her voice sturdy sounding and slightly angry. Buffy was taken aback, her body language shrivelled and she sunk into herself. She reached for her again but her hand passed through thin air. Her hand passed straight through the image of her mom and out the other side. Riley laughed.

"Of course you can't touch her, she's dead remember?" He said cruelly, snarling at her from his place beside the bed. When Buffy turned back to the doorway her mom had disappeared. The daylight had quickly faded from the room and the moon was shining quite clearly outside the window.

Mr Gordo waved from the bedside table.

Angel's face appeared large in the glass, he was tapping on the open window before slipping inside. He smiled at her in the too-sweet cheesy grin he'd been adorning earlier. "Hi, I'm here to save you."

"Where were you earlier when I was falling into a ravine?" Buffy replied, Angel shook his head and made for her. Swooping her up in his arms he twirled her around the room. Not knowing quite what to make pf the situation Buffy looked around her for something useful, something to tell her what was going on. Why all this weird stuff was happening. Willow hadn't tried to call upon the power of the first slayer again had she? Or on the power of Angel for that matter? Willow herself wasn't here and they hadn't been fighting any Frankenstein monsters lately so she doubted it.

"So when is the party?" Riley said from the corner of the room. Angel put Buffy down and sat down beside the commando ans proceeded to chat all about his birthday plans.

Buffy ran out of the room, this was all getting too much and she didn't know how to handle it. Her exes making a reappearance wasn't exactly the stuff she wanted to be dreaming about. If she wasn't careful she's bump into Scott Hope.

Eventually she found her way to the kitchen, yes the kitchen. She looked around for some cookies for a while but all she could find was a gallon of blood in the refrigerator and half a pbj sandwich left abandoned on the counter. Probably Dawn. Buffy thought to herself automatically, she hadn't quite processed that the town she was in technically didn't exist anymore.

Then the phone rang.

She ran to pick it up and felt a wave of heavy breathing fall into her ear as she picked up the handset. "Hello?" She said in her best 'nothing's wrong' voice.

"Hi Buffy, I was wondering if you wanted me to bring anything tonight?" The voice on the other end of the line said.

"I'm sorry Scott I don't know what you're talking about." Came Buffy's swift reply before slamming the phone back into its cradle and storming back upstairs. Angel and Riley were still chatting away on her bed, it seemed almost as if a bromance was forming. Such a shame to break it up. "Right you're coming with me," she said to Angel, grabbing his hand and dragging. "You just sort of go away," she said to Riley who looked a little put out.

She pulled Angel into the next room, and proceeded to badger him about what was going on. "We're preparing for the party," he said.

"What party? It's not my birthday, it's not your birthday. Is it? I don't actually know when your birthday is." Angel shook his head.

"It's our baby shower." He said excitedly, his face lighting up like a small child. "I can't wait, if it's a boy I'm thinking Gerard after my father." He continued beaming. Buffy thought she might actually be sick, or more likely punch Angel in the face. Then she looked down at her bulging stomach, how had she not noticed that before now? And what kind of a name is Gerard? Angel had hated his father. Angel had killed his father. If she was pregnant with Angel's baby, a situation she was taking considerably well given the circumstances, then she was going to do it right. She might not have this opportunity again.

"So when is this party?" Buffy replied.

To be continued...