A/N: I don't own Twilight or BtVS; they are the property of Stephanie Meyers and Joss Whedon respectively. I just like to ponder what would happen if the two worlds collided.

Chapter 34: Cryptic Visions & Delicate Inquiries

Carlisle's silence, thick with contemplation, eventually gave way to a cautious acceptance, his voice echoing back through the line with a measured tone. "While it's difficult to fully grasp, your theory as I mentioned, does align with some of the...anomalies we've been witnessing on our end," he admitted, the weight of his words hanging in the quiet of the study. "As Sherlock Holmes once said, 'When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.' Jasper bridging our realities—it's extraordinary, but it seems to make sense of the otherwise inexplicable."

Giles, standing by with a thoughtful expression, couldn't help but smile at Carlisle's reference. "Ah, you're familiar with Sherlock Holmes? Another commonality between our worlds. Remarkable."

Xander, lounging on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, perked up. "Hey Carlisle, do you guys have Scooby-Doo? Jasper said he didn't know about the show."

Carlisle sounded momentarily confused but responded graciously, "Scooby-Doo? I'll have to ask Emmett. He might be familiar with it. I must admit, though, I've been puzzled by something else," he continued, his voice tinged with a hint of vexation. "For days, I've been unable to get a call through to you, Rupert. It's as if something—or someone—was blocking my attempts."

The question hung in the air, dense with the implication of unseen forces at play. Giles, momentarily caught off guard, turned to Willow, who seemed ready to piece together another fragment of the puzzle.

Willow leaned into the moment, her mind racing to connect the dots. "That's actually a key part of our theory," she began, her voice alive with the thrill of discovery. "We believe that Jasper, in his catatonic state, isn't just passively existing between our worlds; he's actively functioning as a conduit—a sort of...living bridge that not only allows but enhances, cross-dimensional communication."

The lamp cast long shadows across the room as Willow explained, illuminating the fervour in her eyes. "So, when Jasper is in this state, it creates the right conditions for our worlds to connect more easily. But when he's not, it seems to have the opposite effect, making it harder for messages—or in your case, calls—to get through."

Giles, absorbing Willow's explanation, found himself marveling at the complexity of their situation. The very idea that Jasper could have such a profound impact on the fabric of their reality was both unsettling and awe-inspiring.

Carlisle's response, when it came, was thoughtful, a mix of wonder and a newfound resolve to understand the depths of Jasper's influence. "This is...remarkable," he said, the earlier frustration replaced by a sense of purpose. "It appears we have much to learn about the nature of Jasper's condition and its implications for our connection."

As Willow finished explaining, there was a brief pause before Xander's voice piped up, his tone characteristically irreverent. "So, basically what Wills is trying to say here is that when Jasper turns into Mr. Marble, communication lines open up and you receive them on your own FM Alice 105."

Giles shot Xander a reproachful look, his embarrassment evident. "Xander, please," he chided, his tone apologetic. "I apologize, Carlisle. Xander has a tendency to... make light of serious situations."

Xander shrugged, unbothered. "What? I was trying to give the guy the CliffsNotes version. He seemed hung up on the Hellmouth, dimensional thinning, and cross-reality travel. Hell, even I get confused by it, and I've been living on the Hellmouth all my life!"

Carlisle's response, a warm chuckle that bridged the miles between them, signaled his appreciation for the lighter side of their dialogue. "There's no need for apologies, Rupert. A bit of humour never goes amiss, especially under such extraordinary circumstances," he affirmed, his voice carrying the warmth of shared understanding. "And as for Alice being likened to a radio station," he added, the amusement evident in his tone, "I'll be sure to relay your... comparisons. Though, she does fancy herself more in the realm of crystal balls than broadcast signals."

Giles, seizing the moment to steer the conversation back to its original purpose, cleared his throat gently. "Carlisle, amidst our discoveries and the occasional jest, Jasper has prepared some thoughts and updates he's keen for you to hear," he explained, his demeanour shifting to one of solemnity. "Of course, should there be any pressing issues on your end, we're here to listen and relay messages as needed."

Carlisle paused for a moment, considering Giles' offer. "Thank you, Rupert," he replied gratefully. "But if you don't mind, I would like to start with what Alice has seen. Her visions have been... rather cryptic, to say the least."

Giles nodded in understanding. "Of course, Carlisle," he said, his tone sympathetic. "Please, go ahead." Willow took this moment to gather her pen and paper ready to write down anything important to share with Jasper.

Carlisle took an unnecessary breath before continuing. "Well, the most confusing vision Alice has had involves a fight over peroxide," he explained, his voice tinged with frustration. "It makes no sense to us, and we were hoping you might be able to shed some light on the matter."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line as Giles and the others processed Carlisle's words.

Willow paused, pen mid-air, her notes forgotten as she looked up with wide eyes that mirrored her bafflement. Xander, sprawled on the couch eyes on the game, suddenly sat up straighter, his confusion giving way to a dawning amusement. Giles, in the midst of a sip of tea, nearly choked on the liquid, his usual composed demeanour cracking under the weight of the absurdity.

For a moment, the room was suspended in a collective disbelief, the idea of vampires squabbling over hair products painting a surreal picture that was too bizarre to immediately comprehend. Then, as if on cue, laughter erupted, a release of tension that cascaded through the room like a wave.

Carlisle, on the other end of the line, was met with this chorus of laughter, his confusion undeniably deepening at the response. The earnestness of his query juxtaposed with the hilarity it incited created a moment of pure, unbridled joy among the Scoobies.

"Was Jasper not involved in a fight over peroxide, then?" Carlisle's voice, still tinged with genuine concern, only fueled their amusement further.

Giles, attempting to regain some semblance of decorum, wiped the tears from his eyes, his laughter subsiding into chuckles. "No, Carlisle, Jasper hasn't been involved in any disputes concerning peroxide," he managed to say, his voice still rich with the remnants of his mirth.

Xander, however was unable to resist expanding on Giles' response. "Oh, Carlisle, it's not just any old peroxide fight. We're talking about Captain Peroxide here," he declared, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. The room's atmosphere, charged with the giddiness of the shared joke, egged him on.

Giles, despite his attempt at chiding Xander with a "please," couldn't mask the twinkle of amusement in his eyes, his stern façade crumbling in the face of such whimsy.

"Captain Peroxide, our dear Spike," Xander continued, his tone grandiose, as if introducing a character in a play. "Sunnydale's very own bleached menace but, you know, without the bite. A harmless neutered vampire."

Meanwhile, across the line, Carlisle's initial confusion began to unravel into understanding, a testament to his ability to navigate the peculiarities of supernatural dynamics from afar. The faint sound of papers rustling could be heard as he presumably adjusted his position, readying himself for further revelations from Sunnydale's unique vantage point.

Xander, unable to contain his enthusiasm for the storytelling, leaned forward from his casual sprawl on the couch. "Yep, that's right," he affirmed with a broad smirk, relishing in the theatricality of the moment. "Jasper was just, you know, establishing the pecking order with our dear Spike."

Giles, ever the voice of reason and context, sought to clarify the situation for Carlisle. "Ah, yes, Carlisle," he began, his voice taking on the cadence of a storyteller as he navigated the nuances of the tale. "What we witnessed was an exchange steeped in the kind of tomfoolery that borders on the absurd here in Sunnydale."

With a thoughtful pause, Giles recounted the incident with Spike and the garlic sauce wager. The memory seemed to animate him, his hands gesturing as he described Jasper's display of assertiveness—a diplomatic euphemism for the vampire's show of strength. The room momentarily filled with the echo of Giles' amusement as he visualized the scene for Carlisle, Spike's theatrics painting a vivid picture.

Carlisle's sigh of relief, a soft exhalation of tension dissolving into the ether, resonated through the speaker. "That certainly clarifies things," he acknowledged, his gratitude mingling with a residual bewilderment at the complexity of Alice's visions "as there was also a vision regarding garlic and Alice was hoping you could shed some light on this."

The mention of garlic sauce as a subject of Alice's precognitive glimpses drew a collective lean-in from the Sunnydale contingent, their interest sharpened by the peculiar specificity of the vision. Carlisle's added detail prompted Giles to adjust in his seat, signaling the shift to a more explanatory mode. "In Sunnydale, garlic has...peculiar effects on vampires," he began, his tone hinting at the layered complexities of their everyday supernatural encounters.

Willow, ever eager to contribute her insights, jumped in with her own observations. "Yes, it's quite fascinating," she said, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. "It's like garlic plus vampire equals poof!" Her hands mimicked a small explosion, illustrating the volatile equation with a flourish that brought smiles to their faces.

The soft buzz of anticipation and curiosity filled the room as Giles and Willow conveyed the nuances of garlic's supernatural significance in Sunnydale. Across the miles, Carlisle's response floated back, tinged with the bewilderment of a world where the lore of garlic and vampires diverged sharply from his family's own experiences. "It's rather perplexing," Carlisle mused, his voice a blend of intrigue and confusion. "Esme's fondness for gardening, garlic included, has never been of concern for us."

In the dimly lit room, Giles and Willow shared a look that spoke volumes, their expressions a mix of surprise and fascination. The realization that the rules of their reality didn't necessarily apply elsewhere sparked a silent exchange of speculative glances.

As the conversation unfolded, Alice's urgent tone about the mirrors irritated Carlisle slightly. "Alice, please," he responded, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "We have enough on our plate at the moment. What do you mean about the mirrors?"

Xander, seizing the moment, leaned forward with the eagerness of a storyteller on the cusp of revealing a crucial plot twist. "Ah, yes, the mirrors," he said, gesturing as if unveiling a hidden world. "In Sunnydale, it's a whole different ball game with vampires and reflections."

He paused dramatically, ensuring he had the full attention of his audience, both in the room and on the phone. "They're like ghosts to mirrors," he continued, his voice infused with a mix of wonder and amusement. "Part of the mystique of being undead, I guess."

Willow and Giles, playing their part in the chorus of explanations, nodded, their gestures reinforcing Xander's descriptions. The warmth of shared understanding and the subtle vibrations of laughter softened the edges of the conversation, even as Carlisle grappled with the peculiarities presented.

Carlisle's question about Jasper and reflections punctuated the discussion, a clear undercurrent of concern threading through his words. Willow's response, quick and assured, aimed to quell any rising worry. "Jasper's quite the exception here," she clarified. "He doesn't just have a reflection; he sort of breaks the mold when it comes to vampire lore in Sunnydale."

Xander, ever ready with a quip, couldn't resist. "And let me tell you, Captain Peroxide was none too thrilled to find that out," he added, a smirk audible in his voice. The room erupted in a brief, shared laughter, a light-hearted moment amidst the gravity of their supernatural endeavours.

With the laughter fading, Giles, ever the guardian of calm, offered his reassurances to Carlisle. "Rest assured, Carlisle, Spike's provocations are mostly harmless," he stated, his voice a steady current of certainty. "He poses no real threat to Jasper."

As Willow's words filled the room, her tone weaving a tapestry of loyalty and protection, the soft glow of the lamp highlighted her determined expression. "Spike might have a bit of a... rough exterior, but he won't actually harm Jasper," she stated, her conviction clear. With a pause that seemed to gather the weight of her next words, she added, "And if he does try anything, well, let's just say I can whip up a spell or two to keep him in check." The shadows danced lightly across her features, underscoring the serious yet caring nature of her declaration.

Carlisle, on the other end of the line, absorbed Willow's reassurances, a sense of gratitude mingling with his concern. It was evident, even through the distance, that Jasper was surrounded by individuals whose care for him ran deep, their readiness to defend him a comforting balm to any lingering worries.

Giles, his own affection for the group mingled with a touch of professional unease, noted Carlisle's slight pause. The weight of leadership and responsibility pressed on his shoulders, visible in the tense set of his jaw against the room's dim lighting. Seeking to navigate the delicate balance between personal involvement and the need for discretion, he ventured, "Carlisle, do you have any other cryptic visions or concerns that we should address?" His question, gently posed, was an attempt to steer the conversation towards any unresolved matters, hoping to ease Carlisle's evident hesitance.

The pause that followed was charged with unspoken questions, the air in the room thick with anticipation and the subtle strains of concern. Giles, sensing the need for a more private discussion, made a decision. "Xander, Willow," he began, his tone imbued with a mix of authority and respect, "perhaps it's best if you give Carlisle and me a moment alone to discuss some matters."

The suggestion landed with a soft thud in the cozy atmosphere, Xander and Willow's puzzled exchanges casting brief shadows of confusion across their faces. Despite their curiosity, the gravity in Giles's voice prompted a silent understanding, their movements slow and reluctant as they prepared to leave the house and retreat to the porch.

As they crossed the threshold, Xander, ever the source of levity, couldn't resist a parting jest. "Well, looks like FM Hellmouth 101 might become a weekly radio show," he quipped, the corners of his mouth lifting in a mischievous grin. His humour, a brief flicker of lightness in the solemnity of their gathering, elicited a faint smile from Willow, a silent acknowledgment of their shared resilience in the face of the unknown.

Giles, left alone to address Carlisle's concerns, allowed himself a brief moment of relief at the prospect of privacy. The sigh he suppressed was more felt than heard, a testament to the complexities of their situation. As the door closed softly behind Xander and Willow, the room seemed to contract, the intimacy of the impending conversation enveloping Giles as he prepared to delve into matters that required both his full attention and a delicate touch.

~~ W of S ~~

Giles cleared his throat, the sound resonating in the quietude of the near-empty house, a stark contrast to the lively banter that had filled the room moments ago. With the gentle hum of the refrigerator in the background and the occasional creak of the building settling, the room seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the revelations of Carlisle's call.

He glanced over at Jasper, still seated in his catatonic state in the armchair, his eyes vacant and unseeing. The gentle fall rain continued to splatter against the windows, adding a rhythmic, soothing backdrop to the otherwise tense atmosphere. Giles took a sip from his vintage green Fire King glass mug, feeling the warmth of the tea seep into his hands, grounding him.

Having asked Xander and Willow to give him some privacy, Giles turned his attention fully back to the phone, urging Carlisle to proceed with the details of Alice's cryptic vision. As he listened, Giles absently straightened the papers scattered across his desk, a subconscious attempt to bring order to the chaos of supernatural investigations that defined their lives.

Carlisle's voice, tinged with perplexity, carried across the line, "Alice mentioned she sensed something... off about Jasper's scent, as if there was a discrepancy between what she expected and what she perceived."

Giles paused, the implications sinking in. His gaze shifted to the bottle of Scotch on his desk, its amber liquid glistening invitingly. The tea in his mug suddenly seemed insufficient for the gravity of the conversation. Perhaps a bit of Dutch courage might serve him better. Rising from his chair, he retrieved a tumbler and poured himself a stiff drink, the rich scent of the Scotch mingling with the lingering aroma of tea.

Settling back into his chair with the tumbler in hand, Giles took a fortifying sip, feeling the warmth spread through him. He felt more grounded, ready to tackle the perplexing issues Carlisle was bringing to light.

"I see," Giles replied thoughtfully, his gaze drifting back towards Jasper, who remained in a deep, catatonic state in the corner. The room, filled with the remnants of their earlier laughter and the soft ticking of the clock, now took on a contemplative silence. "Given Jasper's recent arrival in Sunnydale and the unique circumstances surrounding his presence here, it's possible that his scent may indeed differ from what Alice is accustomed to," Giles mused, trying to piece together the puzzle. Continuing, "Indeed, Jasper's scent may be changing, but rest assured, it's not nearly as foul as Spike's," he remarked with a wry smile, taking another sip from his tumbler.

Carlisle's curiosity was piqued by the mention of Spike. "Spike?" he inquired, his tone tinged with intrigue. "Who is this other vampire you speak of? And forgive me if I'm mistaken, but I believe this is the second time you've mentioned him."

Giles leaned back in his chair, preparing to offer an explanation. "Ah, yes, Spike," he acknowledged with a nod, noting Carlisle's observation. "Well, he's quite the colourful character, to say the least."

Giles recounted Spike's backstory, detailing his exploits as a notorious vampire known for his ruthless nature and penchant for raising hell. He explained how Spike had once been the "Big Bad" of Sunnydale, feared by many, but had undergone significant changes over the years. As he spoke, he absently swirled the Scotch in his tumbler, the motion almost meditative.

"He's had quite the journey," Giles continued, mentioning Spike's experiences with a government-installed behavioural modification chip that prevented him from harming humans. "The chip was meant to control him, and while it certainly curbed his violent tendencies, it also forced him to adapt in ways we never anticipated."

Carlisle listened intently; his curiosity evident as Giles detailed Spike's tumultuous journey. "A behavioural modification chip? Fascinating. And you said he has a soul now?"

"Yes," Giles confirmed, taking another deliberate sip. "Unlike most vampires, Spike regained his soul. It was a remarkable and harrowing process. His love for Buffy drove him to seek it out, and it fundamentally changed him. But, as intriguing as Spike's story is, his scent has always been consistent. It's his actions and decisions that have evolved."

Giles paused, a thought occurring to him. He set the tumbler down on his desk, the Scotch inside barely touched. "Is it common for vampires in your world to have souls?"

Carlisle's voice carried a thoughtful tone. "That's a subject of much debate. There are those, such as myself, who believe that vampires do retain their souls. I see the capacity for moral choice and remorse as indicators of a soul. However, others, including my son Edward, believe we are damned creatures, bereft of souls."

Giles nodded, absorbing this new perspective. "Fascinating. It seems the nature of vampires varies significantly between our worlds. Here, vampires are inherently soulless, unless they are cursed with one or, like Spike, seek it out. And of course, we have developed ways to detect if a vampire has a soul or not. Although the most noticeable difference is that they stop feeding on humans." Giles cleared his throat, shifting his focus to the list of messages Jasper had prepared, a noticeable hesitation in his demeanor as he prepared to broach the subject.

"Ah, well, Jasper wanted me to convey a few more personal messages to you, Carlisle," Giles began, his voice slightly uncertain. "Firstly, he wanted to reassure you and the others that the Slayer is not a foe to be feared. Given your family's... dietary preferences, they pose no threat."

Carlisle nodded in understanding, grateful for the reassurance. However, he couldn't help but sense the hesitancy in Giles's tone. "Is there something else, Rupert?" he inquired gently, sensing there was more to be said.

Giles hesitated for a moment before responding, his expression guarded. "Well, as the leader of your coven, I suppose you've heard just about everything," he muttered under his breath, a hint of reluctance in his voice.

Carlisle's laughter echoed through the line, breaking the tension. "Ah, the joys of vampire physiology," he remarked with a light chuckle, understanding Giles's implication.

Giles blushed slightly at Carlisle's response, realizing his slip of the tongue. "Yes, well, vampires and their... unique bodily functions," he mumbled, feeling slightly awkward discussing such matters with a relative stranger.

Carlisle chuckled softly; his amusement evident in his voice. "Indeed, Rupert. It seems Jasper's vampire physiology is quite influenced by the presence of your Hellmouth," he remarked thoughtfully, considering the implications.

After a moment of contemplation, Carlisle's tone turned more affectionate. "Perhaps you could inquire about this matter with Spike," he suggested with a hint of amusement. "I'm sure he would have some... interesting insights into vampire toileting needs."

Giles cleared his throat, a hint of embarrassment colouring his cheeks at the suggestion. "Ah, well, I'm not entirely certain that delving into Spike's... personal habits is the most appropriate line of inquiry," he replied, his tone slightly reproachful.

He continued, his tone slightly rueful. "In fact, there was a time when Spike resided in this very home, and he exhibited no indication of any... bodily needs," he admitted, casting a glance around the room as if half-expecting Spike to materialize out of thin air. "Though I must confess, vampire physiology has always been a rather enigmatic subject."

Carlisle pondered Giles' words for a moment, considering the implications. "It's possible," he mused thoughtfully. "Hybrids in our world often exhibit traits from both humans and vampires, so it stands to reason that Jasper's physiology could be aligning in a similar manner."

Giles nodded in gratitude at Carlisle's explanation before shifting uncomfortably knowing he had to ask another delicate question. He took a bracing sip from his tumbler, savoring the Scotch before setting the glass down. "Carlisle," he began, clearing his throat, "Jasper has exhibited some rather... unconventional behaviours, such as purring. Is that a common trait among vampires in your world?"

Carlisle's brow furrowed in confusion at Giles's inquiry. "Purring?" he echoed, clearly perplexed. "I'm not quite sure what you're referring to, Rupert. In our world, purring is typically reserved for intimate relations between mates. Are you saying Jasper purrs in other situations?"

Giles felt the heat rising to his cheeks as he struggled to explain. "Well, yes," he admitted reluctantly. "But... Jasper seems to purr while he's eating. Have you ever encountered a vampire with such a... unique habit?"

Carlisle's brow furrowed in confusion at the notion. "Purring triggered by food?" he mused, clearly fascinated by the idea. "That's quite unusual. I must admit, I've never come across such behaviour in all my years of study."

His curiosity piqued, Carlisle continued, "Do you happen to recall what particular food triggered this response in Jasper? It could provide valuable insight into the nature of his condition."

Giles shifted uncomfortably, trying to recall the specific details. He took another sip of Scotch for fortitude. "Um, I believe it was something as mundane as toast," he replied hesitantly. "But it seemed to elicit quite a... profound reaction from him."

Carlisle nodded thoughtfully, absorbing the information. "Toast," he repeated, making a mental note. "Quite intriguing indeed. I'll make sure to investigate this further."

As Carlisle expressed interest, Giles' embarrassment and exasperation increased. He swirled the Scotch in his tumbler, watching the amber liquid catch the light. "Yes, toast," he muttered under his breath, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "Funny enough, it was your suggestion in the first place."

Carlisle remained oblivious to Giles's discomfort as he delved further into his inquiries. "I see," he replied, undeterred. "Now, was the toast plain or did it have a spread on it? And what kind of toast was it, white or whole wheat?"

Giles couldn't help but feel more frustrated at Carlisle's insistence to know more. "Yes, toast," he muttered under his breath, frustration evident in his tone. "Bloody toast! As if that's relevant! But if you must know, it was plain, dry toast! No spreads, no frills, just toast!"

Static crackled on the line, distorting Carlisle's voice until it faded into a distant echo, leaving only the hollow sound of a dial tone in its wake.

As the static dissipated and the dial tone echoed through the room, Jasper's voice pierced the silence, filled with anticipation. "Did it work?" he inquired, his tone laced with hopefulness.

Giles, still lost in his tirade about toast, barely registered Jasper's question. "And now the blasted line's gone dead! Probably because of the bloody Hellmouth!" he exclaimed, taking a final exasperated sip from his tumbler, savouring the last of the Scotch.

Willow and Xander, hearing Giles yelling cautiously enter the home where they saw Jasper stretching and blinking, the phone call now obviously over. Willow, noticing Jasper's anxious expression, quickly intervened. "Oh yes! It worked great, but then Giles asked us to leave so I don't really know what just happened."

Giles, still caught up in his frustration, was about to launch into another tirade when Jasper's voice cut through the tension. "Did I hear you talk about toast?" he asked innocently, a small purr of anticipation escaping him at the thought of toast.

Willow stifled a giggle, exchanging a knowing glance with Xander as they realized Jasper's obliviousness to the conversation. "Ahh yes, Giles was saying something about toast we think."

Jasper's eyes lit up with excitement, his vampire instincts momentarily forgotten in his anticipation of a simple pleasure like toast.

Meanwhile, Giles, fed up with the entire situation, couldn't contain his frustration any longer. "Oh, for heaven's sake!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I can't deal with this nonsense any longer!" With that, he stormed off, still muttering curses under his breath about the absurdity of discussing toast in the midst of their supernatural predicament.

A/N: While yes in the books & movies Alice's visions are much clearer, almost as if she's a silent witness to possible futures unfolding, I wondered if such an ability would work cross-reality. We know that the wolves interfere with her visions resulting in blinds spots, so it goes to reason that the Hellmouth would be just as problematic in that she catches snippets that without context leave her hopelessly befuddled? Imagine all the havoc that would cause her? The possibilities are endless!