Somewhere in the nucleus of time and space, a vast force swirled. Over and over, it twined in and around itself, fixing and creating. It has always been this way.

Then something happened. A rip in the fabric of *all* life had somehow occurred. Maybe a spell gone wrong, or a wish had been granted by powerful magick. A scream split the vast nothingness, and it trembled. But then it did as it always had, and shifted itself to accommodate the alteration.

And lives were changed.

In the city of London, in the year 1898 of the common era, the sun rose over the horizon. The day promised to be clear, an oddity to be sure. But, after the wild, unanticipated storms of the previous night, no one minded.

In a grand estate not far from Westminster, a group of men and one young woman worried over the tardiness of their colleague. The men quarreled amongst themselves, arguing over what should be done and if they had been right to interfere in the affairs of another world. The young woman looked on helplessly, feeling like a puppet.

In a collection of elaborately adorned underground caves, vampires were settling in for the day's rest, sated from another night of death and sex. One in particular, relaxed in his audience hall, smug in the knowledge that he had derailed a potential threat to his power. But nearby, a scholarly vampire, called Dalton, nervously wondered if this was only the beginning.

And in an old ramshackle estate on the outskirts of the city, heavy black drapes hung from all the windows, blocking any stray beams of sunlight from entering ...

When Buffy opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the face of her beloved mate smiling down at her. His fingers gently traced her eyebrows, and slipped down to stroke her cheek. He leaned over and began tracing the curve of her lips with his tongue and she sighed, opening her mouth to allow him entry. As their tongues dueled in the age old lovers' rhythm, his hands slid underneath her robe and caressed her warming skin.

He easily aroused her. Soon she was writhing beneath him, and he ducked his head to suckle at her breasts. She whimpered, trying to push his head down, but he growled; she shivered at the sound, a bolt of lust and fear shooting through her system. He growled again, a sound more akin to a purr, and quickly rolled them over so that she was on top. Impatiently, he pushed the robe off her shoulders, and it slipped down her back to settle at her hips.

Repositioning herself, she allowed him to guide her hips. Swiftly, he impaled her on him, hissing as her walls expanded around him. Buffy moaned as the sensations poured over her, and yet she instinctively moved to start a rhythm. She lifted herself off of him, only to slowly, teasingly, slide back down. Her lover hissed and reached up to grab her hips, forcing her to go faster, until they were practically slamming against each other.

Buffy fell forward, keening her pleasure as he thrust inside her. Whimpering, she tossed her head back and forth, her orgasm fast approaching. As her lover laved her breast, she began to feel a tingling on the side of her neck. As she approached the peak, she tilted her head and pleaded with her lover.

"Drink!"

Saffron eyes fastened on the smooth column before him. He could feel his own orgasm begin, and, without hesitation, he pulled her down and allowed his fangs to penetrate overtop the glowing scar. With the first taste of her blood, he exploded. And the erotic feel of his teeth buried in her throat was enough for Buffy, and she tipped over and followed him into the abyss.

As she came down, Buffy collapsed on top of him, panting into his neck. She felt utterly sated and complete.

As Angelus continued to lick the marks he'd made, he began to purr. Oh, yes, she was most assuredly worth the trouble he'd gone to. And she was HIS.

The sound of the door opening and shutting roused the lovers from their post-coital bliss. Angelus growled in warning, and Buffy came out of her lust induced stupor as William dropped onto the foot of the bed.

"Can I eat the bloke downstairs?"

Buffy's brows drew together, her face showing her confusion. Looking from one man to the other, she realized that she was not in her world. But before she could move, or even speak, Angelus was tugging the robe back up to her shoulders and relacing the bodice.

"What --" she began.

"He doesn't have my permission to see you nude, yet," Angelus told her.

Buffy sat up straight and glared at him. "Your permission?! You don't own me!"

Will shook his head in amusement. Angelus raised his eyebrows, and ran his fingers along the fresh mark on her neck. "Don't I?" he asked, softly.

"No," she told him again, despite the tremors running up and down her spine. "I want to go home. What happened to the spell?"

Will looked askance at his sire. Angelus gave her a small smile as he continued to caress the neck. "Well, it didn't exactly work ... "

"WHAT?" Buffy cried.

"Now, now, don't lie to the kid," a new voice piped up. All three turned to see a short, garishly dressed ... person enter the room.

"Whistler," Buffy exclaimed, scrambling to get off the bed even as Angelus tightened his grip on her.

"Hey, kid," he greeted her.

"Who, or better what, are you?" Angelus demanded, his voice low and threatening. Will's face mirrored his sire's question.

Buffy sighed. "He's a short, immortal demon sent to even the balance between good and evil. And he dresses and sounds like a bookie from the Bronx."

Angelus and Will looked confused at her last remark.

"Never mind," she told them.

"But that still begs a question," Angelus continued icily. "Why are you here?"

Whistler sighed. "I have to talk to Buffy."

Angelus narrowed his eyes, then glanced at his childe, who seemed awfully interested in this development. "Then talk."

"Alone," the short demon stated.

A growl threatened to erupt from Angelus. Will looked at the demon, then turned to his sire. "Why not let them talk? Might be important," he said, his voice hovering on the last word.

After a long, tense silence, Angelus released Buffy, who promptly scrambled off the bed. She took a moment to steady herself, feeling her slayer healing abilities start to kick in.

"There's a room down the hall," Will told them. Nodding, Buffy and Whistler disappeared through the door.

As soon as they were gone, Angelus pinned Will beneath him and slid a hand over the back of his neck. "What is going on?" he growled.

Will looked up at his sire, surprised.

And aroused.

"I'm not sure," he answered. "But I do know she was s'pposed to go back to 'er world. And something 'appened last night -- it stormed until sunrise. Made for lousy hunting."

Angelus pondered this for a moment, never loosening his hold on his childe. Shrugging it off for the time being, he turned and crushed the younger vampire's lips against his own.

When Whistler and Buffy found the room Will mentioned, the Slayer nearly exploded.

"What the hell is going on!? Why aren't I at home? And what did you mean, 'don't lie to the kid'?"

Whistler sighed again. This was not going to be easy.

"You want it straight?" he asked.

Buffy nodded.

"Okay, here goes. You know about the alternate worlds -- well, alternate for you. Point is, just about everyone has hundreds or thousands of doppelgangers, or otherselves. Except me. I'm kind of unique. Rarely do two or more worlds converge. Your friend Cordelia, you know she had a wish granted by Anyankha, and what the results of that were."

Buffy nodded again, shuddering at the memory of the vampire Willow.

"That's one way. The other is through a portal."

"Which is what happened to me, right?"

Whistler frowned. "Yes and no."

"Huh?"

The short demon dusted off a wingback chair and sat down. Leaning forward, he told her, "It's like this. A portal was supposed to open from your world to this one. The spell you guys were doing was supposed to prevent that from happening. And, the same spell was supposed to be performed in this world on the same day -- the day the portal would open."

Buffy idly walked around the room as she processed this information. It appeared to have once been some sort of gathering room. *Sitting room* a part of her brain that had paid attention in class spoke up, *an informal sitting room.* All the furniture was covered in dust, but even then Buffy could tell it was expensive stuff. She ran her fingers over a chaise lounge; silk brocade coverings. *Just like my robe.*

She shivered, then looked over at Whistler. "So, what went wrong?"

"There was a ... miscalculation, on your side. You guys did the spell a week too early."

"Giles and Willow were wrong?!" Buffy asked incredulously.

"Hey, they're human, it happens! And all of you have had a lot to deal with recently. Then there's the fact that they were using an old source."

"Still," Buffy asked, "how did I get here? And how did Sp--William, get sent to my world?"

"Hellmouth."

"The Hellmouth." Buffy echoed. "What did it do, hiccup?"

"Something like," Whistler confirmed. "The portal spell should never be done atop a Hellmouth. It messes up the magickal energies. Screws up the boundaries of the various worlds, and the time shifts."

"Okay," Buffy said. "So, how do we get me home?"

Whistler braced himself. Here comes the bombshell, he thought.

"You don't go back. You have to stay here."

Buffy whirled around. "WHAT! WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN'T GO HOME?"

Whistler winced. Her voice had to have risen three octaves. "You can't go home ... for now."

"Mind explaining this?" she asked, her eyes glaring daggers at the demon.

"Just what I said. You can't go home until later."

"How much later?" Buffy demanded.

"When the portal opens in this world ... there is clause attached to the closing spell that will send you home. But you have to be on the Hellmouth for it to work."

Buffy was nonplused for a moment. Then something else hit her. "Whistler," she began, her voice razor sharp, "the portal doesn't open until 1999. It's 1898. How the hell am I supposed to be around that long? Without becoming vampire, that is?"

Whistler smirked. "I take it that's not high on your list of priorities?"

"Damn skippy."

"Not a problem," he told her, crossing the room to one of the covered windows. "Come here."

Buffy crossed the room to stand beside him, and he jerked the drapes apart, allowing the morning sunlight to filter in through the cracked window. From his pocket Whistler drew a small, but dangerously sharp, knife and sliced open her arm.

"Ouch! What the hell was that for?" Buffy cried, looking around to see if there was any stray cloth floating around, ignoring the fact that pain was almost gone. *Must have gone numb.*

"Buffy," he demanded, grabbing her wrist. "Look."

Slowly she turned her attention to her arm. Whistler picked up her other hand, and swiped her fingers across the wound. To her surprise, there was no mark. She looked up, astonished.

"How?"

"The Powers That Be decided to fix the problem. You're immortal," Whistler told her bluntly. "You won't get any older, and you can't die in this world. Ever. When you go back to your world, everything will be back to normal."

Buffy, despite years of slaying on the Hellmouth, was utterly shocked. Her knees buckled, and she slid to the ground.

Whistler knelt beside her. "I know this ain't gonna be easy for ya, kid. But you gotta handle it. There's no other choice."

"Where will I go?" Buffy wondered aloud. "What do I do?"

"Buffy," the short demon shook her, trying to bring her around. "BUFFY!"

"What?" she snapped.

"That's better. Well, as to where you go, you really only have two choices. You can go to the Watchers, tell them what's happened, and ask for shelter. An immortal Slayer? I'm sure they'd love to have you. Or you can stay here ... with Angelus."

Buffy blanched. Her mind was swirling, and a thousand thoughts pounded in her brain. Out of all the mishmash, one thing resounded with clarity.

She looked Whistler in the eye. "Are the Watchers here like the ones in my world?"

The demon met her gaze. Slowly, he nodded. "It's not quite as bad here, yet. But it's already started, already taken hold. Thirty years ago, the Slayer here got involved in one the American rebellions. Ever since, they've kept them on a short leash."

Buffy shuddered, remembering the way Alicia had obeyed her Watcher.

"But it's your choice, Buffy."

She glanced at him. "Couldn't I just, I don't know, go off on my own?"

Whistler looked at sympathetically. "Right now? No. You know nothing about this world, and besides, in this time women don't have very many legal rights. And I can't interfere in this world anymore than I already have. But, like I said, it's your choice."

Buffy's eyes were open, but she saw nothing. Everything here was different, like when you look at yourself in a funhouse mirror ... what you see is all out of whack. The same, yet different. And those differences caused so many difficulties. She tipped her head against the wall, not fighting the tears that chose that moment to begin. Her face grew hot and wet as the reality of her situation finally sank in. One hundred and one years until she could go home. One hundred and one years until she'd see her friends, her mother, Giles, or Angel ...

Angel.

Angelus.

When Buffy once again became aware of her surroundings, she realized Whistler wasn't in the room. Reaching out with her senses, she knew he had left.

Time to make a choice. Was one truly the lesser of the two evils?

Remembering the Cruciamentum, Jenny's death, Travers, Giles' torture, graduation, Acathla, and her more recent problems, she realized there was.

And fingering the ruby and onyx ropes that were twined in her hair, Buffy realized there was no choice at all.

As Buffy closed the door of the bedroom, she saw something she really hadn't expected. Angelus was laying on the bed, propped up against the pillows, while Will voraciously sucked his sire's cock. Embarrassed, and thinking she had interrupted, she turned to go ... until she heard him call her name.

Looking over at the bed, she met Angelus' saffron eyes, and flushed at the passions she saw in his depths. He raised his hand and beckoned to her.

"Come here," he commanded.

Almost as if in a dream, Buffy found herself crossing the room and sliding onto the bed. Angelus reached and took hold of her hand, turning it to press a kiss against the inside of her wrist before tugging her against him.

She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped when she saw his orgasm wash over him. Will bobbed his head once more, then pulled away, coming to lay on the other side of his sire.

Angelus turned and kissed Will deeply. The younger man returned the kiss avidly, and Buffy felt a strange, warm sensation start in her lower body, and her core became wet as the mark on her neck began to tingle again.

The two broke their kiss, scenting the air. Buffy flushed again as two pairs of golden eyes fastened on her. Looking at his sire, Will raised his eyebrows in question, and Angelus nodded as he bent down to kiss Buffy. As his lips grazed her ear, Buffy felt Will moving around on the bed.

She turned toward Angelus and told him, "We need to talk about ..."

Angelus placed a finger against her lips, just as she felt a pair of cool hands push the robe away from her legs. She jerked, and felt Angelus hold her in place. "Sshh," he whispered, twisting her so that her head was resting on his lap. "Relax."

"And don't worry, there's no need to talk," he told her as Will's tongue darted out to caress her swelling clitoris. "Vampires have wonderful hearing."

And then she lost sight of consciousness as Will teased her unmercifully, bringing her just to the edge and then pulling back. Over and over, he almost gave her release. Buffy whimpered, hips thrusting up, as she tried to use her hands to direct his movements. She vaguely heard Angelus chuckle, and then she couldn't move her hands because he had pinned them above her head. As she approached climax once more, her neck felt like it was on fire. Thrashing about, she heard Angelus growl.

Then, she exploded, screaming out her pleasure as Will finally gave in and gently bit down on her swollen bud. Scant seconds later she felt the pleasure spiral completely out of control when Angelus bent and sank his fangs into her yet again.

So good, it felt so good when drew from her. Her body arched off the bed, but was caught between two mouths, one at her neck and the other between her legs. The sheer eroticism of the act invaded her mind, and she climaxed yet again.

As Will eased her down, Angelus he withdrew his fangs and growled appreciatively. She tasted so damnably good, to the point of being ambrosial. Not even his sire's blood had been this sweet, this powerful. And she was his, however much her mind might deny it. But her body knew the truth.

Whimpering at the sudden loss of contact, Angelus maneuvered her so that she lay between his legs, with her head on his chest. Will crawled up her body, nipping and kissing before laying his head on her bosom. Idly he sucked one her nipples into his mouth, causing Buffy to sigh. Angelus lifted her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing kisses into the soft flesh of her inner wrist.

She tilted her head to look at him when she felt his fingers stroke her hair. Angelus smiled down at her as his fingers slid down her throat to caress the tender skin of her neck, gently rubbing the spot where he had marked her.

"We'll always take care of you, my sweet one," he whispered, as he drew the bedcurtains closed. "Forever."

And as the sun continued its journey across the sky, the trio in the huge bed on the second floor of the ramshackle manor slept entwined, dreaming of the nights, and days, to come ...

The End