They repeated the chorus, grinning at each other. Buffy turned from him, blushing furiously, but smiling to herself as she sat on the couch, gently rocking Connor, whose eyelids were growing heavy.

Lorne watched her for a moment, observed how careful she was with the child, how lovingly she held him, then shifted in his seat and crossed his legs. “How long do you think you can keep ignoring all this and it will just go away?”

Buffy looked up at him blankly. “What?”

“You. Your life. The entire situation you’re involved in now? You, my friend, are hiding,” he told her shrewdly.

“What are you talking about?” she asked him snidley, slightly annoyed. It reminded him of how Cordelia spoke to most people, but he knew better than to tell Buffy that.

He looked at her cryptically. “Come on girlfriend, let’s dish. How was Hell, anyway?”

Buffy stuttered. “Hell? Uh…you know…it was Hell-ish.”

“Yeah…I’ve heard that. But, see? I’m not getting that from you. In fact, I’m not getting much from you, and that’s the part that’s really mixing my greens. You’ve got a soul, but, and don’t take this the wrong way…there’s something…off.”

You came back wrong.

Lorne noted how white Buffy had gone. “When you died…you think were in heaven. That confession’s out at the homestead, it’s old news. But…what if you weren’t in heaven?”

Buffy stood abruptly, clutching Connor to her. “Of course I was in heaven. I was at peace. I was free. I didn’t have anything to worry about. From what I know about Hell, it’s not a pleasure cruise.”

“True, true. But, let me give you some information that they didn’t include in “Jump Thru A Portal For Dummies.” My money’s not on you being in heaven, sweetie…but in another dimension. Oh yeah, your body was pushing up daisies…but your soul didn’t go to heaven and it didn’t go to Hell. You were somewhere else.”

Her eyes flashed, then narrowed. “What are you talking about?” she asked, her voice growing louder.

Lorne stood and crossed to her, his giant frame looming over her as she sat on the couch. He sat next to her, using one long finger to stroke Connor’s brow. “I think you know, but I’ll play along, just for kicks,” he murmured softly. “You weren’t in heaven, Buffy, and you weren’t in Hell. You, better than anyone, know that there are other dimensions out there. That portal killed your body, friend, but it sent your spirit on to the flip side, where it stayed, trapped, until your that witchy woman and your pals at home helped you out. And now you’re walking around thinking life’s bowl of cherry pits…and I’m guessing something went wrong. With the spell, with the transfer…I don’t know. That’s for the book-learners. And it’s not your fault, you didn’t know…but that’s where my money lies.”

Buffy froze.

“Oh, and one more thing…and this I shouldn’t have to tell you. It’s written all over you, you know it’s wrong, but you’re still doing it. Or him should I say? You’re getting some, uh...stimulation, that’s for sure, but it’s not the kind you need right now.”

Fred walked back into the room at that moment, noted Buffy’s expression and the presence of Lorne, and stopped. “What’s going on?”

Buffy’s head snapped up. “Nothing. Nothing!” she mumbled angrily and passed Connor into her arms. Turning she walked out onto the patio.

***

Upstairs, Angel ducked back around the corner, shaken by what he’d overheard. He’d been out investigating the demons that were hunting Buffy, leaving Connor in the capable hands of Fred and the sanctuary of the charmed hotel. He’d come home and gone to his room first, eager to change from the dirty and somewhat smelly clothes he’d worn into the sewers that night, when he’d heard his sons wailing. As he’d stepped out onto the stairs he saw her. Buffy, holding Connor, rocking him lovingly as she tried to calm him down. Lorne had come down and sat on a barstool while they chatted. Thanks to vampire-hearing he’d heard every word, though he needed no help in hearing when they’d started to sing. Buffy’s voice wasn’t strong, but it was steady, and it melted his heart to witness her singing a lullaby, no matter how contemporary, to his son.

What he heard next was, however, much more interesting. Buffy hadn’t been in Hell. She thought she’d been in heaven. And Lorne thought she’d been in neither, but caught, her soul trapped in another dimension. The thought of her, at peace, and then ripped from it by the selfishness and the sadness of her friends, tore at him.

Buffy, obviously distraught over this theory, had handed Connor to a confused Fred and stumbled outside. Angel leaned against the wall, unsure what to do. He hadn’t meant to overhear them but that was surely to be of little concern to Buffy.

God…she thought she’d been in heaven…no wonder she was having such a problem readjusting. Who wouldn’t? And Lorne thought differently. Angel had known the Host far too long to doubt his ability to read people…chances were good that he was right. Angel was suddenly very curious about the demons that had attacked Buffy earlier, and the cryptic words they’d spoken to her.

And who the hell is this “him” Lorne mentioned? he growled.

He had to talk to her.

***

Buffy angrily paced back and forth on the hotel patio. What did that stupid demon know anyway? Reads souls or auras or whatever. She snorted. He was wrong. She was just fine, completely fine. Willow had performed that spell and yanked her out of heaven, leaving the harp and wings behind. She was fine.

She was fine.

Spike was not right. She was fine. Normal. Human. She hadn’t come back wrong. She was Buffy. Buffy Summers. The Slayer, the Chosen One, Prophecy Girl.

But…the demons tonight…You know you’re not supposed to be here. You know you came back wrong….And Lorne…Your soul was in another dimension…it’s not your fault…you didn’t know.

Buffy slowed her pacing and sat on a wrought-iron bench, staring at the ground in horror. What is going on?

These past few months had been the worst of her life. Her mother had died and she’d dealt with it. Dawn had been in trouble and she’d dealt with it. And then…she’d jumped into that shiny pool of light, felt the shock and the pain of her body being ripped apart from the inside…and then it was over. Calm. Peace. Serenity. Until…

She wrapped her arms around herself from the sudden chill that had come over her. Things hadn’t been the same since she’d come back…she’d attributed all of it to the shock of being ripped from heaven and put back on earth, where things were hard and loud and painful. Never had she considered that she hadn’t been in heaven. Where else would she have gone? The portal had needed the blood to close it, she’d given all she had. If that didn’t qualify her for heaven, what did? After all her sacrifices, all in the name of a job she hadn’t chosen…

The patio door opened softly. She looked up to see Angel standing there, his large form outlined by the hotel lights behind him.

“Hi,” he said hesitantly.

“Hi,” she answered, shifting uncomfortably on the bench.

“Can we talk?”

She shrugged and he walked over to sit across from her, legs apart, elbows resting on his thighs. “What are you doing up?”

“I think I should be asking you that.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” she lied.

Angel watched her, noting that she refused to meet his gaze. “I overheard what you and Lorne were talking about down here…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I heard Connor crying when I got home tonight and I came to check on him.”

Her eyes remained on the ground. “Oh.”

“I heard what Lorne said, Buffy. I think you need to talk about this,” he told her, his tone gentle and concerned, but forceful just the same.

She shrugged again. “What’s to tell? I died. He doesn’t think I went to heaven. Or to Hell, for that matter. He thinks I was in that popular vacation spot ‘somewhere else.’”

His gaze remained on her. “Why didn’t you tell me you thought you’d been in heaven, Buffy?”

Now her stare moved to his. “What does it matter?”

“Do the others know? Willow? Xander?”

She nodded. “Oh yeah…that came out awhile back. I figured Spike would have blabbed it everywhere, but no…one little truth spell and Buffy tells all,” she said bitterly.

Angel’s breath hitched. “Spike? You told Spike before you told the others?”

She didn’t answer him.

He changed the subject. “Buffy, what that demon said earlier, about you…that you’re not supposed to be here…I think you know more about this than you’re letting on.”

She sighed heavily and got up, walking to the railing and looking out over the city, a breeze catching her hair. “Seems everyone has a theory on me lately,” she muttered.

“What do you mean?” he asked from his seat.

She turned around and faced him dead on, leaning back against the railing. “Willow thought I was in Hell, so she concocted this spell to bring me back. I think I was in heaven, finally done with my job here. Spike thinks I’ve come back wrong because suddenly now his chip doesn’t work on me…and your Ms. Cleo in there thinks my soul was in another dimension. Care to weigh in?”

She’d mentioned Spike twice now, but he continued to ignore that…for the time-being. “What do you think?” he asked her.

Her eyes closed for a moment, wearily. “I don’t know,” she said when she opened them. “I don’t know what to think. It’s…hard…now. Different. Mom’s not here. Xander and Anya are way involved in wedding plans, Willow’s having some sort of magic addiction, Giles is gone. Dawn’s…Dawn’s being a fifteen-year-old girl who lost her mother a while ago and who has a sister who recently came back from the dead.” She took a breath. “And there’s…confusion. My life isn’t what it was before. I don’t know what to do, and I come here to try and straighten things out with my dad only to have him throw what little I have left in my face. Wherever I was…when I died…it was easier than it was here.” Unwanted tears welled in her eyes.

“So easy that you wanted to go back there,” Angel guessed.

She raised her eyes to his, slowly, and nodded. “It was one of my first thoughts…but the tower, where I jumped…it was different, too. Everything is.”

“I’m not,” he offered. “I know things with us are…confusing. But I’m still your friend, Buffy. I’m here to talk to.”

She gave him a sad smile. “You’re different, too, Angel. Even if you don’t realize it. You’ve got a life here…with Cordelia, and Gunn…Wesley, Fred…and your son.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t have time for you, Buffy. I’m a phone call away, you know that. I’m never too far away for you.”

She wiped at the salty tears on her cheeks.

Angel patted the space next to him on the bench and she walked to him, sinking down to it gratefully. He put an arm around her, and as they had sat in the graveyard almost a year ago, he held her.

“I don’t know what to do,” she murmured, a tear slipping down her cheek. She wiped at it angrily. “What if—what if everyone else is right? Lorne, the robe-guys…what if I wasn’t in heaven? Don’t I even deserve that?”

Angel stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head softly. “You deserve it more than anyone I know, Buffy. We’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise you.”

One by one tears escaped. “It’s just not fair, Angel…it’s not fair. I can’t give anymore. I can’t do it. I try, I do…but it’s…it’s awful. And I want to know why. Why isn’t it ever enough? Everything I love gets taken, I sacrifice my life, twice, and it’s still not good enough. I’m a good person, I died to save the world…and I don’t even get to go to heaven like a normal person? My eternal reward is to live like this? It’s like I’m dead inside now, a walking corpse.”

He hugged her tightly and let her cry. “I know, I know,” he murmured. “I don’t have the answers, Buffy. I wish I did. But I’m going to try, I’m going to help you. You can’t give up. It’s not in you.”

She sniffled. “I’m not the same person I was when you knew me, Angel. I don’t know if I’m that person at all anymore.”

“You’re still her, Buffy. You’re still strong. You’ve had a rough break, lately. But it will get better, it has to. And I’m here, I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

How’s forever? Does forever work for you?

The thought sounded in both their minds, unspoken.

Angel pushed it away. “I think we need to figure out who’s tracking you, and why. If these guys have information on your death…you need to know, Buffy,” he told her, running a hand up her bare arm. “You’ll never make peace with it until we find out who’s behind this and where you where exactly. And why you’re different now that you’re back here.”

She nodded, her cheek resting on his shoulder. “I know. But…part of me doesn’t want to know if I wasn’t in heaven, Angel. I don’t want to think I was trapped somewhere else…and if I was…it couldn’t have been that bad if I was happy there, could it?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, but we can’t let this thing go. Those guys tonight were serious.”

“I’m lucky you showed up,” she told him.

“The Powers…thank them. They showed Cordelia where you were…of course, I didn’t wait on the phone long enough to know it was you that was in trouble,” he chuckled.

She smiled sadly, wiping at her tear-stained face. “Still, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And…I’m sorry for how I reacted about Connor. I was…thrown. I mean…you’re Angel. My Angel, you know? Even when you’re not really mine to have. And even though it’s not like that between us now…”

He let out a sigh and squeezed her shoulder. The question played on the end of his tongue…who’s this mysterious “him?”…but now wasn’t the time. “Yeah…I know.”

Buffy was quiet for a moment. “He’s beautiful. You should be proud,” she said finally.

He smiled over her head. “Thanks. I am. He’s a miracle.”

She nodded into his chest. “With all the monsters we deal with day to day, throwing in the green-eyed one seems a bit much, huh?” she joked.

He chuckled. “I can only imagine how the reaction would have gone had the roles been reversed.”

Buffy smiled at the thought, comforted at being loved, and of loving, even after all this time.

She was quiet for a moment, enjoying the feel of arms around her that were kind, caring…Spike didn’t hold her like this. Being in Spike’s arms was…rough…full of want, demand. Shivering, she pushed away from him gently and stood.

“What?” he asked, noting the change in body language.

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “I guess I should call home, in the morning, warn the others about what’s happened here. Do you—do you mind if I stay here long enough to find out what these demon guys are after?”

Brown eyes looked sincerely into green ones. “You’re always welcome. Stay as long as you need,” he assured her.

She smiled. “Thank you, for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Now…get some sleep.”

***

“She knows,” Sulfeg hissed.

“She merely has the suggestion of an anagogic, that is all,” Entwar corrected. “We will capture the girl and complete the transaction before she gets any further.”

“But how do you know?!” Sulfeg cried angrily, banging his fists on the table. “The hotel is protected by magics that we cannot break and she is the Slayer, working with powerful allies.”

Entwar clucked his multiple tongues. “Her Highness grows weaker as the days go by. We have no time for this delay,” he lamented. “We will attack what she holds most dear and take her in the midst of the battle. Have Mulnam assemble his troops.”

“Surely, Entwar, but where shall I tell him to send them? What is the mission? We cannot attack her at the hotel,” Sulfeg repeated.

Entwar turned yellow glowing eyes on his comrade. “Perhaps I underestimated the importance of her family.”

Chapter Seven: Same Story, Different Day
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