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"Look," he replied, raising his hand in a conciliatory tone, "I don't know who you think you are or what you're doing, but this isn't --"
"This isn't what? This isn't funny." She darted her eyes over to the raven- haired girl next to him, but brought them away just as quickly. "I trusted you, Angel."
Before he could respond, a group of people came walking into the moonlit circle of trailers on the star-crossed set. "That would have been a good idea," came an assertive male voice, "if he was Angel."
Buffy narrowed her eyes to see the approaching figure, and as he came into view the Slayer rushed headlong into his arms.
"Where've you been all my life?" she whispered.
"Right where I am now," he answered, grinning. Willow was about to turn to the person next tp her and offer a friendly smile when she realized the person next to her *was* her.
"Oh. Okay then ..."
Drusilla smiled from behind her tree. This was too, too fun! Nobody knew who they were or where they were, everyone was running around like a ... oh, this was glorious! She slipped the small vial of red out of her bosom and spilled it slowly onto the ground, thinking to herself how marvelous it would be when Spike had all his power back. Everything would be right, they would be together, the Slayer would be dead ...
Dru giggled as she whispered the incantation over the small, barely visible stain in the grass. "Boundaries of life, break down!" She tittered helplessly, sprinkling some ashes she had ostensibly obtained from her *hair* onto the same spot. "Melding power, melding power, leave this cell prison. Transcend thy universe!" With an even jerk of her head, the vampiress flung a bubbling glop of spittle onto the little mixture she'd prepared. The ground started to smoke, and Drusilla lifted her eyes skyward. "Let it begin!"
Two hundred feet away, in the middle of a small clearing in the town of Dusk Creek, California, James Marsters fell to the gorund in a mad series of twitches. His body continued to convulse wildly, heat rising from his clothes. Two women found room to comment instantly.
"Spike?" cried Buffy incredulously.
"James!" Alyson fell on top of him, alternately stroking and slapping his face. But the handsome young man only lay prostrate on the grass, eyes rolled back into his head.
"Is - is he dead?" Juliet asked meekly.
"NO!" laughed Drusilla from behind the tree as she emerged into the circle that had gathered. "Not yet!" And she erupted into another mad fit of giggles.
"Whoa," David whispered, leaning back just enough to catch Juliet as she fainted into his arms.
"Well." Giles stared the man down as best he could. "This is certainly odd."
"It's more than odd," murmured Anthony Stewart Head, coming up to Giles and pinching himself. "This is not a dream."
"If it is," reasoned the Watcher, removing and wiping his glasses, which he often did in times of crisis (which was often), "then it is most definitely mutual."
"Rupert Giles." He was trying to verify Giles' identity.
"Uh ..." The librarian began to stammer, and continued in a mimicked tone, "Er - *Rupert Giles*?"
The strange man laughed heartily, a laugh not unlike Giles' own. "Think of what this will do for my portrayal."
"Your portrayal?" Giles was noticeably flummoxed. "What on Earth are you talking about?"
"My name," he replied, "is Anthony Stewart Head, and ..." a slight pause, less for dramatic effect than in outright disbelief ... "I am an actor. And my role is you."
"No! I'm serious. Shut up and let me talk for a second." She cleared her throat. "OK, good. So I left the Bronze at about the same time you did." Cordelia put her hand over the receiver to muffle his speech. "No, it wasn't on purpose ... No I DID NOT! Jeez, aren't we delusional tonight? Whatever. So I drove home, came in, and went to get myself a glass of water. 'Cause, you know, I need nine glasses a day to have healthy skin." She put her hand back where it was. "Oops! Can't hear you! Bad connection or something ... All right, back to me. So I'm pouring something for myself and this girl comes up to me and asks, 'Where am I?' or something. I'm like, 'Shouldn't I be asking you that? You're in *my* house.' So I'm totally blowing her off and then I look at her." Cordelia briefly shot a suspicious glance at the visitor on her couch. "It was ME. Like, I was staring myself right in the face? And I freaked, what can I say? She says her name's Charisma, and that in this *other world* or whatever, she plays me on TV!" Cordelia scoffed. "What a total whacko! I mean, can you believe that?" There was no response. "Can you? HELLO?"
"Uhhhh ... " Xander didn't know where to begin. "Do you still have your car?"
"No, doofus, I tore it to bits out of shock. Of course I still have my car! It hasn't gone anywhere or anything."
Normally she would have expected a quip of some sort. But Cordelia could virtually picture Xander's stone-faced silence on the other end of the phone. "Then come here. Now." She decided it scared her.
"I don't need protection, Xander, I need --"
"Get over here as soon as possible," he spat out. "No joke. There's someone
here your pal simply's *gotta* meet."