Back to the... Past
Summary: Angel, Spike and Wesley get transported back in time to 1753; the year that Angel was sired. However, things don't go according to plan as the three men are arrested and sentenced to death. As the night approaches when Angel was sired along with the sentencing for death; this trip down memory lane may be Angel's last.
Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing. Props go to Joss. As always.
Chapter One
Angel and Spike were fighting as usual. "Spike, you just don't understand." Angel casually strolled through the Wolfram and Hart building on his way to his office.
"Don't understand? What's not to understand?" Spike shot back. "All you have to do is give me a damn office like everyone else in this God-forsaken place has. I'm left out Angel, and frankly I don't like it."
Angel stopped and spun around, stopping Spike dead in his tracks. "Then you're just going to have to get used to it, Spike."
Spike growled. "Oh! For crying out loud will you just give me something?" He cried. "You've got everything! Fancy cars, an expensive penthouse, a high-paying job and all those lackey's to do your dirty work for you."
"I don't have dirty work to do Spike." Angel continued into his office before pausing and looking back at Spike. "And they're not lackeys." He answered, sounding almost hurt. He pushed open his office doors and walked inside, half-slamming the door shut behind him; conveniently, in Spike's face.
Spike pushed it back open before it had fully closed and quickly followed his sire inside. "Angel, you've got to give me something. I've got nowhere to go but here."
"Then find somewhere to go. Anywhere but here." Angel sat down at his desk and began flipping through papers, trying to ignore Spike.
"I can't." Spike repeated.
"I meant somewhere else in the building, Spike." Angel sneered. "I don't want you here."
"Can you give me anything?" Spike pressed. Angel looked up from his notes and glared.
"No." Spike finally gave up and stormed off, bumping into Wesley as he tried to enter into Angel's office at the same time Spike was leaving.
"Spike." Wesley greeted with nothing more than a name before he was interrupted.
"Move it, English." Spike growled, and Wesley stepped aside. He and Angel exchanged glances before Wesley approached to show Angel the reason he had come all this way up to his office.
"What on Earth is that?" Angel demanded, looking at the oddly-shaped ball in Wesley's hands. He handed it to Angel. It was silver, round and at some parts was slightly pointed. It was about the size of a rockmelon, with a flattened top and bottom.
"I'm not sure what it is exactly. It came to Human Resources earlier this morning and well, we haven't been able to figure out much of anything about it."
"Does it do anything?" Angel asked.
"Nothing we've found out already. All we know is that it's a rather impressive-looking paperweight - that is, if you don't already have one." Wesley smiled casually.
"Wes, what exactly did you need to show me this for?" Angel asked, sounding a little impatient and slightly annoyed. "Well, I was hoping you might be able to help us identify what it is."
"And how am I supposed to do that?"
"Well, there's an inscription on the top and I thought maybe you could help me figure out what it means."
"Don't you know the language? Can't you interpret it?"
"Well I can but I don't know what it means, exactly."
"Exactly?" Angel repeated.
"Well, it's written in Gaelic. Its translation is: from day to day my journey, from night to night my journey; but then I can't figure out the rest. I thought you might know some Gaelic text from when you were human. Do you recognise anything?"
Angel squinted at the text, trying to read the small print etched into the silver ball. "I think it says: through time and space I recognise these places I have seen."
"Are you sure?" Wesley asked.
"Well, not exactly, but I haven't seen text like this for over 150 years. I might be a little rusty." Angel stared at the ball again and had another shot at the writing. "From day to day my journey, from night to night my journey; through time and space I recognise these places where I've been." The ball buzzed in Angel's hands and he dropped it. Jumping to his feet, Angel stepped back; as did Wesley. They both stared as the centre of the ball separated and split the ball in half. The top half slowly rose, and as Angel and Wesley leant in to have a look a light flashed from inside the ball.
For a second there was nothing but the blinding blue light. Wesley and Angel both found themselves blinking several times before they regained their vision.
"What was that all about?" Angel asked, looking up at a puzzled Wesley.
"Clearly this thing is a little more... advanced than I'd expected for the time period."
"There were still demons around back then Wes; something probably created this. But the question now isn't what does it do, but what is it?"
Outside Angel's office, Spike had made his way back up again deciding to tell Angel he'd given up. He knocked on the door and strolled right in. "Angel, I've given up on you so I'll be in my basement if anything comes up."
"Spike, I don't need to tell you if anything comes up." Angel said flatly. "Get out." Spike rolled his eyes and headed out of the room when the silver ball began whirring. He turned around slowly as he eyed the ball on Angel's desk.
"What is that little do-hickey?" Spike demanded. "And what is it doing?"
"We don't..." Angel began, mesmerised by the device as a dim light grew inside it. Spike approached and the three men leant in to get a better look only to hear a crack and see another bright flash of light. This time the light was not blue, but white. It was blinding and it took almost a minute before Angel, Wesley and Spike could see again.
"Oh God..." Wesley was the first to be able to see clearly. Angel and Spike soon followed. "Where are we?" Wesley asked.
"Good question." Spike answered, looking around. Angel and Wesley did the same, discovering they were in a vastly different location to Wolfram and Hart. There were dirt streets and cobblestone corners; stone and old-brick houses and a low-hanging fog sitting just above the rooves.
"We've... gone back in time." Wesley stated. "Or very far into the future... very far."
"I think you got it right the first time." Angel said as he peered through a window in the building beside them. Through the stained-glass he could make out people inside. The one he recognised made him gasp.
It was himself.
Author's Note: A little thing that came into my head, I though I'd give it a whirl. Reviews are welcome, as is constructive criticism.
Note: this chapter has been altered. Thanks MysticWolf1 for all your help.