Welcome to Your Alternity: Eleven
by slayerfest
The fire was roaring. It wasn’t a cold night, but the fire made it comfortable. Angel stared into it and wondered what had happened.

He didn’t really have any recollection of the event itself; he’d been too nervous. He hadn’t even had a chance to finish thinking about it. He was just staring out, over the town, and making absolutely sure he was making the right decision. He loved Buffy more than anything, and she felt the same about him. But there was still that tiny issue about him not being good enough for her.

But that had never been an issue for her in the past. Maybe he could be all she deserved if they were married. They move into a standard house, have children, the works. She wasn’t even a Slayer anymore, temporary as it may be; they could have had a totally normal life.

He hadn’t expected this.

Buffy slept, curled up in his lap, with the same half-smile she’d had on her face earlier. The sparkling engagement ring fit perfectly on her left hand.

Angel just didn’t get it. He’d done so many things wrong in his past, and here he was, the happiest man alive. He had the perfect life set up for him.

Also, how on earth could Buffy still be asleep?

He looked down at his fiancée and found himself overwhelmed for the umpteenth time that day. He kissed her head and closed his eyes against the fan of her hair.

Buffy blinked herself awake and turned. Angel sat up and smiled. She smiled back and brought him in for a kiss.

“Ahem, hem.”

Buffy and Angel looked up simultaneously and saw Spike standing at the door. He was apparently axeless, but Angel gripped a baseball bat just in case. Good God, he thought. I really am human.

“I told you he’d be back,” Angel said softly. Buffy smiled but didn’t take her eyes off the vampire.

“I don’t mean to interrupt… well, actually, I waited for the exact moment at which I could interrupt, but that’s beside the point. Look, mate, I’m not here to kill you,” Spike said to Angel. “I hate that you’re with the Slayer. Always have, always will. But let me tell you, you’re looking at a different Spike.”

“Looks the same to me,” said Buffy, jumping to her feet. Her arrogance leaked away for her next comment, though. “You’re not really in love with me, are you?”

Spike hesitated but looked straight into Buffy’s eyes. Her face contorted into disgust. “Oh, my God. That is possibly the grossest thing ever.”

“Oh, what?” he asked. “It wasn’t so gross when nancy-boy was a vampire.”

“What do you want, Spike?” Angel asked, fed up with the conversation.

Spike looked about to argue, but then seemed to change his mind. “Dimensional transfer.”

Angel raised his eyebrows. “So you weren’t kidding about being a different Spike.” He snapped his fingers. “That’s how you got out of hell.”

Buffy frowned. “Huh?”

“Not just me. Her.” Spike pointed at Buffy.

“What? I wasn’t in hell,” she protested.

Angel widened his eyes and then closed them tightly. He couldn’t believe it. The most perfect day of his life was one that Buffy would never remember.

“Let me explain it,” Angel asked of Spike through clenched teeth.

Spike sighed. “Yeah, I thought you might say that. All right, go ahead. I’ll just stand here to make sure that… hey, what was that?” A glint had caught Spike’s eye and he found the source on Buffy’s ring finger. He looked at the ring, and then at Buffy, and then at Angel in total disbelief. Then he closed his eyes and backed toward the nearest wall, through which he disappeared.

“Whoa. Did you see that?” Her eyes brightened. “You put some vampire-killing powers in my ring, didn’t you?”

Angel turned to Buffy and shook his head. “He didn’t dust, he just popped out. There’s something I need to explain to you.”

***

Willow appeared right outside a door in a shabby apartment building. Judging from the different sounds outside, Willow decided she was in a much bigger city than Sunnydale, probably L. A. Willow didn’t hesitate before knocking on the door.

A short brunette that Willow had never seen before opened the door cheerfully. “Hi!”

“Um, hi. Does… does Tara Maclay live here?”

“Yep!” Silence.

“Oh. Well, uh, is she here right now?”

“Yep!” Again, silence.

“Caaaan I talk to her?”

“Sure!” The girl, who Willow decided was a couple of years younger than she was, disappeared into the apartment. Willow, unsure of whether or not to follow, compromised with stepping just inside the doorway and closing the door partway. She listened to the short bursts of excited exclamation coming from the next room and occasionally glimpsed the short peppy girl’s head from the door of the room. Eventually, there was unusual silence and Tara walked out of the room.

“W-Willow,” Tara said quietly.

“Hi,” Willow returned sheepishly.

Tara walked further into the living room, but stopped before she got too close to Willow. “H-how are you?”

“I’m okay. How are you?”

“I’m… good. Good. How did you find me?” Tara asked before she could stop herself.

Willow smiled. “A bit of the old standard,” she answered cryptically, as she noticed the peppy brunette standing in the hall. “You have a… roommate.”

“Yeah,” Tara said, relaxing a little. “Willow, this is Mags.”

“Hi!” said Mags again.

“Mags, this is Willow, a… friend from Sunnydale.” Tara turned to Willow and spoke in a hushed voice. “She’s a little over-enthusiastic, and I don’t really know w-why she’s called Mags, but she’s… nice enough,” Tara said, now obviously relaxed. She smiled, and Willow realized how incredibly right they would have been. How right they were.

Willow smiled back tentatively. “That’s… nice. Listen, I was just in town, and there’s… well, I wanted to talk. Are you up for some coffee?”

Tara’s smiled faded a little. “Talk about w-what?”

“Some band made its appearance at the Bronze yesterday and they call themselves, ‘The Multi-Dimensional Vampires’. They made the gang all confused, so I came to… here, because I heard they were coming… here. I was hoping that maybe we could catch up,” Willow finished hopefully, catching the hint that Mags was not informed of the supernatural.

Tara hesitated, and then turned uneasily to Mags. “I’m going out with Willow for a little while, okay, Mags? Can you manage to make yourself some dinner?”

“Sure!” Mags said, and wandered dreamily into the kitchen. Tara grabbed her coat from a chair by the door and she walked out the door with Willow.

“So what’s the deal with Mags?” Willow asked as they stepped out into the smoggy L. A. air.

“She used to be a dog,” Tara giggled. “Someone dabbling with magic accidentally turned her human. It worked, too… she’s just kind of… dumb.” Tara pointed to a diner and they walked across the street together. “So, what’s your thing?”

Willow hesitated and looked over her shoulder. “Let’s just wait until we’re inside.”

The two witches walked into the diner and sat at a table. A waitress with a nametag that said “Anne” came over and took their orders. Willow leaned across the table.

“So, a bunch of us are at the Bronze last night, right? And these three vamps come on stage and start making this horrific noise. So we all leave, and this morning we all go to Xander’s for a research party. Anya runs in, a giant bunny follows, and Buffy and Angel go off to fight it. Now Xander and Anya have no idea who eachother are; they can’t see or hear each other. Other things are weird and then Spike appears out of nowhere after he was sent to hell the night before and he starts crazy-talking. Something about, we’re all in an alternate dimension. Things aren’t supposed to be this way. And he says that you’re in the wrong place, too.”

Willow opens her mouth to take a breath and Wesley and Cordelia hurry into the diner.

Tara turns reluctantly away from Willow and toward the duo that just entered. “What’s up, guys?”

Wesley starts talking rapidly. “Nest of vampires not far from here. Tried to conquer it. We need your ball of sunshine.”

“Where?” asks Tara.

“Like, a block. Old abandoned building. It’s small and smells like mould, but there were at least ten of them in there, feasting on some poor innocent… Willow!” Cordelia interrupts herself and smiles. “How are you? It’s been forever.”

“It… really has. What’s going on here?”

Tara turned back to Willow. “When Angel” (Cordelia snorted) “moved back to Sunnydale, he left Cordelia and a demon named Doyle to fight the demons here. Doyle died a week later, and then Wesley came. These two held down the fort until I… moved. Now we’re a demon fighting team!” Tara grinned, and then got up from the table. “I’ll be right back,” she told Willow, grabbed her coat, and strode out of the diner with incredible confidence, with Wesley and Cordelia close behind.

Willow sat alone at the table. Anne delivered her peach pie. Willow took a bite and waited for Tara.

***

Spike appeared, continuing his backward loss of balance and tripping over a crypt, landing on top of it and just lying there.

They’d been engaged.

He snickered in disbelief. Alternate reality or not, that’s damn big.

Engaged!

He got up and staggered over to the fridge. He took a swig of bourbon and chased it down with some blood. He felt a little better, but not completely. He found his way down into his sanctuary under the crypt and lay down in bed.

Maybe he’d tell Great American Soldier Boy about the Slayer and Angel just to see the look on his face. It could be fun.

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