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[Ripper's eyes narrowed.] No, it's bloody planet earth, now would you like to tell me what you're doing 'ere?

[The last thing he needs is some woman sauntering about when he's about to begin tampering with the dark arts.]

[Cordelia folds her arms across her chest. She gets that she just kind of--Woke up in this place. And that it's weird. And she likes British people just fine for the most part -- well, the only one's she's ever met have been Wes and Giles but still -- but this isn't exactly her fault. Geez.]

I don't know what I'm doing here. I just kinda--Woke up. Here. With you. Like a hey Toto, we're not in Kansas any more?' kind of deal.

Are you trying to be a smart arse? [Ripper frowned.] Tell you what, you piss off and forget all about this place and I won't put this glass bottle through your face. [He said menacingly, shaking the beer bottle in his hand for emphasis.]

[And wow. The guy might be hot -- what, she has eyes! -- but rude much?]

I'm not trying to be smart at all. And having that bottle shoved through my face is way, way far down on my list of Things To Do this week... I was just hoping that, y'know, since you're the first person I've seen around here? You could explain where here is. And why everything looks like a throw-back to the 60's or something.

[There's a noise of disapproval, but seconds later he tosses the bottle away and shoves his hands into the pockets of his biker jacket.] 1975, London, England. Don't you read the papers?

[Cordelia blinks at him. She can't be in London. And she definitely can't be in 19-friggin'-75 because that's impossible. And crazy. And impossible all over again.]

You're serious? [The panic in her voice is definitely evident now.] Oh God. Oh, I'm gonna KILL Wes. He was talking about Pylea and he totally tempted fate, didn't he?

Pretty sure this is just the regular world. [ Buffy studies her, brow furrowed and lips tight. She's clearly unamused, and it's obvious she has no idea who this woman is. ]

What, you hit your head or somethin'?

Buffy?

[Cordelia blinks. And stares. Because the last time she saw Buffy she was wishing--Oh. And has she mentioned crap?]

You don't remember me?

[ The Slayer tilts her head, almost as though the words Cordelia is speaking don't make sense. She's fairly certain that she has never seen the brunette, considering this is her first day in this damned town. ]

Is there a reason I should?

[Cordelia is ridiculously close to hyperventilating right now because this-- a-Buffy-that-doesn't-remember-she's-Buffy --in a town as screwed as Sunnydale can only spell one thing; trouble.]

Well, yeah, I mean--Well, no, but--Okay, you know who you are, right?

Slayer? As in--She who hangs out with a lot of dead guys?

[ She rolls her eyes, torn between annoyance and concern. This girl shouldn't know what she is - she shouldn't even know what a slayer is. But she does, and somehow, she knows that Buffy is, in fact, a slayer. ]

How the hell do you know who I am? And how do you know what a slayer is?

Because we go to school together! Not here, obviously-- [ Cordelia rolls her eyes. Because this is not the Buffy she knows. This is a scarred Buffy. A really friggin' scary Buffy, actually, where the other one is kind of--Well, a social leper is putting it politely. She has saved the world a few times, so Cordelia can mostly forgive that. ] --okay, maybe this is going to take some explaning...

[ Cordelia's nose wrinkles slightly as she thinks of how to word this. ]

I'm not exactly from here. I mean, I live in Sunnydale and everything, just not this Sunnydale. We have a vampire problem there but we've not overrun like this place... Uhm. I made a wish? With a really vein-y girl?