Disclaimer: The characters in the story belong to Joss Wheddon and Mutant Enemy. The story has no commercial purpose and is simply written for fun.

Wishes by Josephine Martin

Summary: When Buffy wakes up the morning after the musical she finds her life is very different – it even looks like Spike has move in. Meanwhile, in the Sunnydale we all know, a very different Buffy finds she's surrounded by strangers. So, two Buffys and two Spikes – can they fight two very different evils?

Rated R/18 for violence, implied sexual situations and feelings – some non-consensual.

This takes place immediately after 'the kiss' at the end of 'Once More with Feeling'

Chapter 1 – Sunday Night, Early Monday Morning

Sometimes she surprised herself. This wasn't really a good thing. She didn't surprise herself because did better than she expected. She surprised herself because of the downright stupid things she did. Like tonight. She went to see the music demon fully prepared to die. She didn't seem to have any reason to live, and it seemed the simplest thing to do. She had already died twice – most recently to save her sister, and to do it again seemed the obvious solution. But she had reckoned without Spike. If she lived to be as old as he was, she'd never understand the bleached blonde vampire. He saved her from burning to death when the music overtook her. He stopped her from combusting. She didn't understand what she had done to deserve the way he was always around, always trying to help. Admittedly, most of the time he was just plain irritating. Yet there was something comforting in knowing that whatever she did, he'd always be there for her.

Funny really. Everyone else she'd trusted like that had let her down. First there was her dad. Upped and left, never to be seen again. Then there was Angel. Her 'First Love'. At least she understood his reasons for leaving, but it didn't make it hurt less. Then there was her mother. Obviously it wasn't her fault she died. But the result was the same. Buffy was left to cope without her. And now Giles was going too. Willow and Xander had been her friends for a long time, but they were both involved with partners and had less and less time for Buffy. So what did she have in her life? She had a sister – a teenage sister for whom she had to be mother, father and big sister all rolled into one. She had a vampire – a vampire without a soul – who claimed to love her. And so far, he had stuck with her. Which led to her second mistake of the evening. She had kissed him. It wasn't the other way around – at least not at first. She had made the first move, although he responded within the smallest fraction of a second. She didn't love Spike. She didn't even like Spike. So what on earth possessed her to kiss him? But then again, she had enjoyed it. She hadn't wanted it to end. She had wanted it to lead to other things she couldn't even consider. But, fortunately, (was it fortunate?) she realised where the kiss could lead and she pushed him away and ran for her life, leaving him standing confused, in the street.

She readied herself for bed. Some time later, she heard Dawn, Willow and Tara come in, still talking about the final defeat of the demon. They were still laughing at Xander's face when he realised he might have to 'be his queen'. She heard the conversation and felt more isolated than ever. Sometimes she decided that what she really needed was some time alone. Some time when no one needed anything from her. A chance not to be the Slayer, big sister, friend, whatever. Just a chance to be herself. More than anything, right now, she wanted a chance to just be herself without the myriad of people and things who needed things from her. This was her last thought as she drifted off to sleep.

Spike had been surprised when Buffy kissed him. Things hadn't been going too well with that music demon around. He had told her some things he really didn't want to mention. Like the fact that, when he allowed rationality to overcome his feelings for her, he knew he should leave. But then he couldn't leave her any more than he could fly to the moon unaided. So he had asked her to stay away from him. That must have hurt her, because she threw it back at him later. And he had been angry enough with her to leave her to her fate. For all of about five minutes. Then, faithful puppy that he was, he was right back there, saving her from musical combustion. As the gang sang their musical finale, he realised, not for the first time, that he didn't belong and left. What surprised him was that she followed him – as if she didn't feel she belonged any more either. And then she stopped him, singing a reprise of their song. And then the kiss. She had kissed him once before. After he had been tortured by Glory. Then it was a chaste kiss on the lips to thank him for not betraying Dawn. And he hadn't even realised it was her until the instant their lips met. Up until then, he had thought he was talking to the robot.

The kiss tonight was as different from that as two kisses could be. It wasn't chaste, and it wasn't quick. It lasted and he could feel her passion, her need. It ignited him and he half expected to smell burning as he combusted with the heat of it. He couldn't account for why she had kissed him just them. It was obvious from the kiss that she found him attractive – but she had never given any indication she cared for him, not really. Once he had tried to get her to admit there was a mutual attraction between them. She denied it then, but she had admitted it tonight. Not in words – in the kiss. She couldn't have faked that, he was sure of it. She wanted him – almost as much as he wanted her, and that was more than he wanted to feel for anyone. But for him, it wasn't just a physical attraction. It had been at first, but he, William the Bloody, stupid sod, had fallen in love with the Slayer. He hadn't planned it. He'd tried to deny it for a long time. But eventually he'd realised the truth of how he felt. He was trapped and he didn't really want to be rescued.

When Buffy left, he'd headed for Willy's, fully intending to get drunk. Once there, he found that the alcohol simply didn't have any effect on his mood. He was drinking to try to forget that he loved someone who hated him. Someone who obviously wanted him, but still hated him. After too many drinks, he headed back to his lonely crypt. He'd even turned down the attentions of a rather attractive female vampire. She'd been all over him, trying to get his attention, but his attention was elsewhere.

When he got back, it was still an hour or so before sunrise. As he tried to sleep, he imagined the night had gone differently. He imagined Buffy had come back to the crypt with him, and that they had spent the night indulging his favourite fantasies with her. Well, she was his favourite fantasy, so what else could he do? But, just before sleep came, realisation hit him. It wouldn't matter if she loved him. Her friends, her watcher, her whole existence as the Slayer would ensure they would never be together. His last thought was a new fantasy – a world where she had no responsibilities, no friends, nothing to stop them being together. Now, wouldn't that be lovely?