Portal

The blonde scooted back and leaned up against Eliza, pulling on her arms until they wrapped around her miniscule frame as she leaned back against her large breasts.

"Your memory's coming back, which is of the good, and I'm sure Giles will know how to speed it up."

"Buffy...You're not...I don't think you're in your world."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't think this is where you belong."

"Okay, so maybe I skipped ahead in time a little bit, but it looks like my world and you're here."

"But nobody else you know is. I think the portal takes you to different realities or something. That's all that makes sense, if that's your particular brand of sense. For me it's about two years of twice a week therapy."

"So you're not my Faith?"

"I'm not anybody's 'Faith', not really."

Buffy turned to face her: "Damn. I wish you were."

"Why's that?"

Buffy raised her doppelganger lover's hand to her mouth and kissed the back of it.

"Because you're happy here. That sadness that's always in your eyes is gone, and you just seem so secure, so proud of who you are. I want that for my 'Faith', you know?"

Eliza felt the tears welling up.

"You should tell her that, Buffy, the very first chance you get."

"Right, like she'd want to hear it. She won't even let me in enough so that we can be friends. She's not interested in having any kind of relationship with me, let alone this."

Eliza lifted Buffy's chin until their eyes met.

"I can guarantee you that's not true. She loves you, Buffy, so much that she acts like an ass. Promise me the next time you see her, you'll ignore her bullshit and go after her."

"I wish you were right, but..."

"I am right. Trust me on this and don't let her stop you. You guys belong together and if you keep waiting on her, you'll never make it. You're the Head Slayer, the Chosen One, and you're going to have to do the work. Tell her that you love her, show her, Buffy. Promise?"

"I guess it's not like I have anything to lose except my self-respect, my pride, my heart...which she'll probably rip right out of my chest and stomp..."

Eliza kissed her, keeping Buffy within the circle of her arms when they pulled apart.

"Feel that? That's not a tenth of what Faith feels for you. Promise me, B."

"I promise. And I noticed the sneaky 'Faithspeak'."

Eliza nodded, happy to know that maybe the Slayers stood a chance.

"I'm not ashamed to fight dirty. So what happens now, Buffy?"

"I don't know. Maybe I should go back to where the portal dropped me off."

"That seems right."

Neither girl moved and neither was looking forward to parting.

"Yeah...We're sure handling this whole thing calmly."

"Well I was going to freak out, but I decided to just pretend it's a new role."

"Smart. And I've decided to do my famous 'Buffy Avoidance' thing. Plus, I'm the Slayer. Weird stuff happens every hour to me anyway."

"So we're good then."

They went silent again.

"Hey, I should shower before I go!"

Yeah, absolutely! That's probably a law when you're travelling by portal."

Buffy stood up with a smile.

"And I'm going to need to borrow a shirt if you..."

"Yeah, that's no problem. I've got plenty since you've stopped jerking off on them."

"Gross! Shut up."

Eliza got to her feet.

"I think I'd better join you in there."

"How come?"

"Well you know: we need to conserve water, the heads are kind of tricky to operate, I want you again, stuff like that."

Buffy smiled and reached out her hand.

"I saw how talented you are with heads. I definitely need your help..."

Eliza's grin was wicked as she grabbed onto Buffy's hand.

"...although I should warn you — we might have company."

"What do you mean?"

"I knocked out a fairy the last time I was in there."

"Do I even want to know?"

"Probably not."

"Then I'm just going to pretend I don't see anything and let the Slayer handle it."

"And she will...Count on it."

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They walked out to the hedges and as they got closer, the portal blazed on, the light and air swirling inside and around it.

"So you just hop in this thing?"

"Yep."

"How do you know where you're going to end up?"

"I don't, but how else can I ever get home? It's the only chance I've got."

Eliza nodded: "You could always stay here."

"But that doesn't really work, does it?"

"It could. I can be Faith for you, nobody does her better. I should've scored an Emmy."

Buffy raised her hand to caress Eliza's cheek.

"But I can't be the woman you love. I don't know her at all."

"Yeah, I know it's dumb."

"It's not dumb, Eliza. It's not dumb at all. You need to take your own advice and go after her."

"No, she's married to a good guy. I think she's happy and I wouldn't want to mess anything up for her."

Buffy smiled:

"And yet when you thought I was her..."

"Hey, she had a big penis. I figured their marriage was a cover or something, you know? Plus, you seduced me."

"That I did. Goodbye, Eliza."

"Goodbye, Buffy."

They kissed and it was hard for them to let go. Buffy finally pulled away and walked over to the portal.

"Which way did you prefer?"

"Which way?"

"The sex. Penis or not."

"Either way's five by five with me, B."

Buffy laughed.

"You sound just like her."

"Yep, I do a better Faith than Faith does."

"Be happy, Eliza."

"You too, Buffy. Remember your promise to me."

"I will. Well...here goes nothing!"

With a last wave and a smile, The Slayer jumped into the portal. It snapped closed and...

"...'Cause we all just-a wanna be big rock stars, and live in hilltop houses, driving fifteen cars. The girls come easy..."

"...they'll get you anything with that evil smile. Everybody's got a drug dealer on speed dial..."

"Cut! I think we've got it. Nice job, Eliza."

"Thanks. You guys were slammin' too."

She thanked the crew and said her goodbyes, glad the shoot was over. As everyone pulled away from her house, she stood by the pool looking out at the row of bushes that lined her property. She felt like something was missing, even though everything looked just like it was supposed to.

She stood there in anticipation for a few minutes, before finally shaking her head and laughing.

"All right, Dushku, shake it off...whatever 'it' is."

She went into her house, used the bathroom and put on her bikini. She was hot and a dip in the pool sounded just right. She headed outside, her gaze falling on the bushes again.

"Jesus, wanna marry them, Eliza?"

A thought popped into her head and she went back into the house. She picked up her phone only to find that the battery was dead because once again she'd forgotten to put it in the charger. She went into her bedroom, hopped onto the bed and made the call from there.

"Hi, Brad, it's me. Yeah, I'm fine. Look, I know it's kind of sudden, but I want out. No, it's nothing you did, you've been great. I've just been doing some thinking...Well you know me, brains and beauty too. Anyway, turns out you might not be the only gay person in our relationship. Hahaha! Yeah, a Penny for your thoughts. I'm not saying you're right, but I'm willing to entertain the idea you're not wrong. Yeah, I know, but I don't want a beard. I just want to check this out and be as real as I can be. Yeah, I'll be careful. I appreciate that. Sure, we'll just say we grew apart. Be happy, B...rad. See you around."

She disconnected the call, but still hung onto the phone in one hand as the other absentmindedly rubbed slowly back and forth against her stomach. She had the craziest idea out of nowhere, and she could feel the nervous thrill shoot through her body as she debated whether she should do it or not.

"Fuck it, you've only got one life."

She looked up the number, then dialed before she could chicken out. He answered on the second ring.

"Hey Joss, it's Eliza. I'm good, how about you and Kai? That's great, tell her I send my love. Yeah, dinner would be good. No, we broke up, but I can still eat by myself, dude. Eight o'clock Tuesday sounds perfect. So uh...do you happen to have Sarah's number? Right, I heard about that. Well you can't blame her, you fucked up. I know, I get it, but you need to tell her that. So is there any way you can get it for me? No reason, I was just thinking about her and...Yeah? Thanks, Joss! See you Tuesday."

Eliza carried the phone with her as she made her way out to the pool, snagging a bottle of orange Gatorade as she passed by the refrigerator. She sat down in a lounge chair and drank a toast to taking crazy chances. When her phone rang an hour later, she said a prayer that some rumors were true, and then she answered:

"S? Yeah, too long! Five by five, you?"

Chapter 10: Nothing Nobel

Author: lizardmm

Rated: R

Buffy POV

I land on the ground non-too-gracefully. You'd think I'd be getting the hang of this by now. I brush the grit and grime from my skinny jeans. Slayer-skills my ass. In fact, my ass has been taking one hell of a beating tonight.

Oh God, that came out totally wrong. Forget I just said that.

I quickly take stock of my surroundings when I exit the alleyway. It looks like any other Main Street in any other town. Except that I know it's not Cleveland because no one's wearing a jacket. But it's not Sunnydale, either, because no one has a tan.

It's nearly twilight, judging by the color of the sky. The street is littered with a scattering of people, all oblivious that in the alley around the corner, a girl just appeared out of thin air. It always amazes me how people can walk through life, so blind to the weird and supernatural things that surround us. Maybe it wasn't just a Sunnydale thing. Maybe it's just a people thing.

I start walking down the sidewalk, not really sure where to go. I suppose it doesn't really matter though; I have an uncanny skill for finding trouble. And trouble usually looks like Faith. I pass by a paper store, an art gallery, and stop for traffic in front of a corner coffee shop.

As I wait for the little illuminated person to show me it's safe to walk, I can't help but notice a nervous-looking guy. He's wearing a long jacket, which makes me notice him right away. I'm from Californian and even I don't need a coat right now. He doesn't look too much older than myself, and his face unfortunately reminds me of a rat's. Like he'd be really good at anxiously gnawing on cardboard box corners and stealing peanut butter.

When he edges restlessly over to a bike rack in front of the coffee shop, I watch him look around quickly and then pull a pair of bow-cutters from inside his over-sized coat.

"Hey!" I reflexively call out as he makes the move to free one rusty-looking bike from its chained confines. I might save the world from apocalypses, but that doesn't mean I'm too self-important to stop petty crime, too.

His eyes go wide when he sees me standing there, the whites of his eyes bright under the overhead streetlamps. "What do you think you're doing?" I demand, putting my hands on my narrow hips.

A strangled noise flies out of his mouth, and he quickly turns on his heels and bolts across the adjacent street, narrowly missing getting hit by a turning car. I'm about to run after the would-be-thief, when I see a familiar face through the front window of the coffee shop.

Faith's standing on a small stage with a microphone, holding a notebook in her hand. A mischievous grin finds its way to my lips. Oh...this I've got to see.

I push through the glass door and into the slightly-packed coffee house. No one looks in the direction of the opening door.

On the small, makeshift stage, Faith's clone is wearing a dress — which tips me off right away that this isn't my reality. It's black and slightly lacey, but not in a stuffy, fancy way...more like in a goth, tortured-soul kind of way. And her voice is different. Higher pitched than what I'm used to — kind of baby-dollish. I'm not sure I like it.

She's reciting poetry or something. I pause long enough to listen to a few lines.

In the dark corners of the more recessed cavities of ...small and wicked minds....parasites of inequity gorged themselves.

Okay, can't say I was expecting that.

I scan the small crowd, and take in my surroundings. There's a mix of hippies, emos, and other assorted white people thoughtfully sipping their overpriced caffeinated beverages. What I wouldn't do for a caramel macchiato right now though. Everyone's face looks vaguely interested in the girl on the stage spouting her non-rhyming poetry, like they're afraid to show too much emotion for fear of looking uncool at a poetry slam.

Except for one guy. He's tall, kind of too skinny for his frame, and looks out of place in his suit jacket and button-up dress shirt. And he's staring at the newest doppelganger as if she was the only thing in the room.

She looks up from her notebook in the middle of her verbal spewing and I see her stare at the Gawker. He quickly averts his eyes as though he's embarrassed that she just caught him undressing her with his eyes. She makes no comment though and continues her angry tirade. I have no idea what the words mean — I was never any good at critical analysis — but it sounds important coming out from that luscious mouth, and her eyes are squinted and fierce.

But you know...in the dark corners of the more recessed cavities of your own little mind that your own fЙted darkness seeds in it unique mental waste...

When she finishes, she's rewarded with a light smattering of applause. The man, however, claps the loudest and his large hands nearly drown out the other patrons. She looks slightly pleased on stage, tucks an errant wavy strand of light brunette hair behind her ear, and steps down from her beatnik soapbox.

The cafИ erupts into a low din. The show is apparently done, and a few other ratty-haired poets walk up to Faith's twin and surround her with attention. I scan the room and look for this poetess's biggest fan. I find him standing awkwardly near a bookshelf. He still stares at her, but the intensity is gone. It's been replaced with a hurt hunger to see her surrounded by so many other admirers.

This guy seriously gives me the creeps and I'm surprisingly worried for "Faith's" safety. I make my way through the crowd and accidentally-on-purpose knock shoulders with her lanky stalker.

"Oh!" I gush out when he spills his coffee over the front of his pressed khakis. "God, I'm so sorry."

He jumps back slightly, and immediately begins wiping uselessly at the hot beverage stain. I hear him curse under his breath, and I'm slightly pleased that I may have succeeded in burning his junk. "It's...it's okay," he says.