Willow sat up in bed.  Something was different.  She could feel the
power rippling through her system, as clearly as if she had a part in
the casting.  She sent her perceptions seeking for the cause.
Whatever the case, it was huge.  As she swung her bare legs off the
side of the bed, a finely drawn masculine hand grabbed her arm.

"Going somewhere pet?"

"Just to the living room, Spike.   Someone is performing powerful
magic, somewhere.  Powerful enough that it woke me from a dead
sleep.  I need to figure it out.    Who or what ever is doing this is
strong.  Dangerously so."

"Okay pet," Spike swung up to sit on the edge of the bed.  "I'll just
check on the kitten, then join you in the kitchen I could use a mug
of blood and I'd bet you wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee."

"You would win that bet."  The petite redhead stood and grabbed the
ratty robe she refused to toss out because it had been a gift from
her deceased best friend.  As she wandered down the stairs in the
house she and Spike were finally beginning to consider home, she
thought back over the last months.  The  sheer heartbreak and terror
the night her friend sacrificed herself.  The tears that mingled with
stunned emotions when they viewed the epithet, `She Saved The World,
Alot' on her plain granite tombstone.  The grief and puzzlement that
overwhelmed her when Tara announced her plans to move to the East
coast.  She had been accepted to a good college there, and she
couldn't bear to remain in the Scoobie Gang following the damage done
to her heart and mind by Glory.  As she had reeled from that blow,
they had learned that Buffy had left a will, it seemed that she had
prepared for the possibility that she would die in the battle with
Glory, while Dawn survived.  Buffy had named Spike and herself as
Dawn's guardians.

There had been a battle royale over who was best suited to the task
and what should be done regarding who Dawn lived with.  Finally,
Giles, with his unshakable British calm had pointed out that Dawn was
still the key and would continue to be a target for anyone who
discovered that little fact and that Spike and herself were the best
suited to protect the girl from anyone seeking to use her.  The two
of them had then decided to move into the Summers home.  Slowly, she
and Spike had become friends, bound together by their mutual grief
and fear.  Finally, about three weeks ago, they had indulged in what
Spike called a "flaming, bloody great row", when Spike had shocked
her silly and entertained Dawn thoroughly by kissing her in a futile
atempt to shut her up.  She was still hollering when he had sealed
her lips again.  That time however it was a searching effort.  he
tasted her and invited her to taste him in return.  Dawn had finally
ended that interlude with the comment, "This is as good as the
premium channels, but could you do that again, I couldn't see just
what you did with your hands?"

She entered the kitchen automatically pouring a bag of blood into a
mug and heating it in the microwave.  Her spirit sought as her hands
prepared a pot of coffee.  Spike entered the kitchen as she sat the
mugs on the table.  he kissed her in appreciation and sat down,
pulling her into his lap.

"Dawn is fine, sleeping like the innocent babe she isn't.  So pet,
how do you want to go about this?  Will I help or distract?"  Spike
cuddled her on his lap, sipping from his mug as he spoke to his lover.

"Spike I need to look at astral projection as a tool to discover what
is happening.  I haven't been able to find out a thing otherwise.
When I do it, I will need you to guard my body.  Without you there, I
would be totally helpless.  Spike, I have to figure out what is
happening.  Cause until the next slayer arrives, it is up to you and
me, to stop any big bads that come Sunnydale way."

The blond vampire snuggled his lover close, holding her and
protecting her.  After Buffy had died, he had believed he would never
love again, but time and Willow had shown him that he could.  True,
he didn't love the redhead the same way he had loved the slayer, but
his love was just as deep and just as true.  In some ways deeper,
because he knew he could never have owned the slayer, just as he knew
he would always own Willow.

The petite wiccan lay on the floor.  She arranged her limbs
comfortably, then with one last smile for her snarky vampire, she
closed her eyes and began her meditative trance.  The deeper she sank
into the comfortable blackness, the more the ambient sounds
surrounding her became magnified.  She geared up to loose her spitit
from her body, when suddenly a thunderously loud banging on the door
ripped her from her trance.  She sat bolt upright, panting with shock
as Spike entered the foyer to answer the door.  She quickly stood and
followed him, curious to see who would be banging on their door at
three in the morning.

Spike glanced back at her, his eyes clearly asking if she was ready.
She nodded and he pulled  the door open to reveal, oh Goddess it
couldn't be.  Her body folded into a graceful slump and she never
knew that a shocked vampiric lover was all that kept her from hitting
the floor.
 
 

Buffy:

The slayer looked at  the key.  The little sister she loved so
dearly.   The words ran through her head, "blood  is blood" "death is
your  gift".  Suddenly it clicked.  There  was only one gift she
could give Dawn.  She could give her the gift of death.  She looked
into her sister's pretty face, told her how much she loved her, then
dived off the tower into the maelstrom.

Buffy looked around.  It was the warehouse.  The site of her
climactic battle with Glory, but something was wrong.  For starter's
where was her sister, Willow, Giles, or any of the other Scoobies.
She could see no trace of any of the gang.  Surely if Glory had won,
there would be some evidence left.  She sat up carefully.  She didn't
understand, she should be dead, but apparently had suffered very
little damage.

Okay something was big time making her wig.  There, covered with
warped old plywood was the hole the wrecking ball had made.  She
looked at the place where the tower should be.  No tower.

Okay, she was officially wigged.  This was the place, she recognized
it, but it was different.

Wait a minute, a picture of her best friend in a leather bustier
floated through ther mind.  Well if she was in an alternate
dimension. she could find out fast.  All she had to do was go find
her alternate self.  She would go home.

She searched around until she found something she could use for a
stake before starting the trek to Revello Drive.  One semi-fierce
battle with a really stupid vampire later, she was standing in front
of her house.  She considered just going through her window, but
decided her alternate might not like that.  She risigned herself ,
took a deep breath and knocked on the door.  Okay, so maybe she
knocked a little loudly, but still.

moments later the door flew open.  She looked at Spike and Willow for
a long moment.  The silence was broken by a loud "Bloody hell" as the
blond vampire leapt to catch the crumpled body of Willow Rosenberg.
He looked at Buffy, the redhead clutched tightly  in his wiry
arms.  "Well for fuck's sake Slayer, you're meant to be dead."
 

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