Part 1
The dark world rushed by as the wind sang loudly in the boy's ears. Wrapped up in his dreams, a night of journey had fleeted by. As the sleigh came to an abrupt halt, Edeck woke, uncertain if he was still dreaming. Peeking out from the warm shelter of his grandfather's cloak, the little boy could see nothing but a handful of stars against the crimson night sky. Away to his right were vast mountains, their peaks cloaked in snow. Sleepily he tried to reckon the stage of their long journey from Warsaw to Switzerland. Earlier, they were held up for half a day by the Russian army bound for Prague. Rumor was that they were going to drive the Nazis out of Czechoslovakia. At dusk, they had reached the edge of the Russian zone and crossed the frontier somewhere in Thuringian forest, without realizing they had done so. It was only the unfamiliar uniforms of the soldiers and the strange language of the notices that told them they had reached the American zone. Shortly after, he had drifted into sleep. He wondered where they were, how close they were to the safety of Switzerland. Would his parents be there waiting for him? His thoughts were broken as he heard foreign voices ahead. Immediately, Edeck's body stiffened. His grandfather stirred and gently nudged him away as he got up to investigate. Following his grandfather's lead, Edeck leaped out of the sleigh, landing on the soft snow as the roaring wind threatened to lift him away. He clung to his grandfather for precious protection and trudged forward nervously alongside.
He could make out seven of them. They were certainly not soldiers, but were dressed in a queer fashion. Why on earth would anybody dress the way they do in this harsh weather, Edeck wondered. All but two of them wore dark coats that reached to their knees. One of the coats was made of a strange shimmering material he could not recognize and the man wearing it had unusually blond hair. One of the two without coats was a young girl with beautiful auburn hair. She was wearing only a long-sleeved woolen blouse. She must be freezing! All of them were pale and trembling but they were still on their feet, and looked well enough to Edeck. He thought they couldn't have been out there like that for too long, which was odd since there didn't seem to be any warm shelter within miles out here. Did somebody abandon them? Stripped them of their clothes too? Or bandits perhaps. Even as he continued to study the curious-looking bunch, his brother Julius and grandfather were already bundling the strangers into more clothes. As they gratefully accepted the extra garments and blankets, snuggling up to their welcome warmth, he noticed that three of them including the auburn-haired girl he had noticed earlier were women, their hair blowing wildly against the biting wind.
Part 2
The rest looked on as Angel spoke in Polish to the two gentlemen who had just found them, thankful that at least one of the vampires had bothered to learn some human languages other than demon ones. Spike spoke several demon languages but had never bothered himself much with the less common earthly languages. He snickered as he observed his human companions looking at Angel with admiration.
"This is probably the first time in his long bloody unlife Polish has come in handy."
Spike earned a few glares but was largely ignored much to his dismay. He turned his attention to the sleigh, which was an elegant six-passenger vehicle drawn by four horses. This certainly would not be able to fit ten people, he groaned silently to himself. Just then, he caught the boy staring at him and decided to give him a scowl. At that, he had retreated further into his grandfather.
Bloody hell. So what if he is afraid of you. Any loser could scare a ten-year old. Fancy making funny faces at a child. Spike, you're pathetic.
Frustrated, Spike turned away from Edeck and focused his attention back at Angel and the two men.
He had not felt himself since he discovered he could not hurt anybody with the chip in him. While it was true that he could still terrify people with his demon visage, he knew full well that he couldn't actually hurt them and as time passed, the horror in their faces actually began to mock him. What use was scaring if no actual damage was going to be done? He had often felt juvenile and wretched, especially during instances like the moment ago. Anger and frustration at not being able to kill and feed was expected but he found it extremely difficult to handle not being feared by the slayer and her gang. Their patronizing ways irritated him to no end and he often felt the urge to spite them with harsh words. Well if you couldn't hurt them physically, there's always this other way. He drew special satisfaction from getting under the skin of Willow and Xander, which is ironic since Spike had always liked a good challenge, while both of them were easy preys because of their insecurities. Spike thought he was probably drawn to them in some crooked way. Ever since the chip, he had felt himself in need of even more attention. This is one aspect of the situation that rankled him. It wasn't that he did not like attention before that, far from it actually. It had come easily before. Now, he constantly felt himself in the shadows of everyone, including even Xander. The fact that he could often felt wounded when ignored disgusted him.
What truly disturbed Spike however, came from something deeper within. Months without killing had given him this uneasy feeling that the demon in him was abandoning him. He could seem to feel it slipping away. Was the demon leaving him because he wasn't going to be of any use again? Or is the demon wasting away? How was it possible? As hard as he tried, he could not get these horrid thoughts out of his mind. They kept gnawing at him and frequently drove him to consider suicide.
He needed to get the chip out.
He had to.
Part 3
Willow looked intently at Spike, glad for the chance to do that without being noticed, as at the moment the vampire seemed preoccupied with his own thoughts. She was often curious about him and felt the urge to observe him. It wasn't so much because she was intrigued by his good looks, although admittedly he was a handsome man, but for the fact that he was a complete paradox to her. She almost giggled a moment ago as Spike pulled a funny face at the little guy clinging behind the old gentleman. Despite the vampire constantly flaunting his evilness, Willow couldn't help but noticed the child-like glee he possessed. She was aware of how she often needed to believe in the good that rested within every human soul, how she could never even for a moment be convinced that anybody could be completely evil. She did not know what to make of evil. Neither did she know how to perceive vampires. She had often been told vampires lost their souls and only demons possessed them. Were those demons pure evil then? She wanted to know how a demon think, whether they feel, and the only way was to become one. Whenever her thoughts came to this same conclusion, she would laugh at herself. She would never contemplate becoming a demon even if she had to die of curiosity. When faced with the prospect of becoming a vengeance demon, she had refused without even hesitating for a slight instant. Both Xander and Giles had traversed those darker realms and Willow often felt silly for being envious. It was such a completely ridiculous attitude but both of them had refused to let on much to what it was like, encouraging even more inquisitiveness on her part. It had always been her guess however that a part of yourself would be lost, along with any restraint you once had, as overpowering urges took you over. You couldn't resist. Wouldn't want to.
As she looked at Spike and Angel she wondered again about vampires. Vampires always had been a mystery to her. Although she had never openly doubted Giles, she often wondered if they truly lost their souls. If so, how could they still possessed so much of the essence of their living selves. If only she could be vampire for a day, she chuckled wryly. It would be far more superior than studying all those ancient texts of Giles. How would they know? Were any of them ever-even vampires before? These thoughts were instantly followed by guilt as she reproached herself for taking lightly centuries of research and hard work. There must be some truth in them. Lots of truth mostly likely as she dragged herself out of any naive notions she had of Spike. After all she had no doubt when it came to the malevolence of this vampire. How could she even try to talk herself into believing that Spike is a friend, that he wouldn't hurt them even without the chip? All the delightful and amusing verbal wars they had, and the almost-gentle teasing, had given her this illusion that Spike had come to regard them as some sort of friendly rivals that he would love to hate but would never harm. Willow rejected the idea firmly to herself although a large part of her still wanted to embrace this belief. If only she could feel what a vampire feels, she would know. At that, Willow let out a sigh, resigned.
Part 4
The younger man who had been doing most of the talking suddenly shook his head in agitation, while Angel helplessly tried to explain himself with his limited Polish. In despair, he glanced at his companions, desperate for any help. Realizing that no aid would be coming along and that trying to bend the young pole was futile, he decided to change his approach and focused his efforts on the older man instead.
Considering their situation, it seemed odd that Piper was the only one still paying attention to the conversation. She glanced casually around her at the strange, but amusing assortment of individuals that made up their group. The way they had come together still amazed her and she managed a soft chuckle. At that, Angel had glanced at her, confusion apparent in his anxious but soft eyes. Piper found the expression immensely endearing and for a moment wished that Phoebe were here with her to gawk at the handsome vampire. She grinned at the thought before managing to come up with an embarrassed 'oops, nothing'. She rolled her eyes and wanted to kick herself for indulging in such juvenile reverie, especially considering the circumstance. Phoebe would be proud, she smiled. Just then, he caught Angel sneaking a quick look at her again, clearly mystified by her behavior.
Great, now he thinks I'm a loony.
At that, Piper wanted to giggle again, but thought better of it.
Stop that, Piper!
After a moment when Angel couldn't resist another quick peek at the strange witch again, Piper managed a clumsy grin. Not knowing what to make of her, he awkwardly returned a smile. Piper was immediately captivated as she detected the corners of Angel's mouth curving upwards uncertainly, as if unsure if they could actually do that. This sensitive vampire had appeared extremely self-assured to her at first, but sometimes he seemed lost and confused. His gentle eyes, though overflowing with torment and remorse, beamed with tender warmth and conviction. They were the resolute eyes of a man persistently hanging on to the hope of salvation, completely devoted to the race he loved, but had once done wrong.
After the awkward silent exchange with Angel, Piper resumed observing her companions again. Blond vampire lost in thought. So was Willow. The two FBI agents were huddled together immersed in an urgent discussion. They were always in some urgent discussion, Piper thought, amused. Or argument perhaps. She wondered what pressing matter they could be conferencing about right now, sarcastically of course. She professed to not having any bias against the FBI but yet had taken an instant dislike towards Mulder and Scully. Could there really be any bias? Since discovering that she was a witch and after several run-ins with the authority, maybe she could not claim to be impartial anymore. Darryl, and of course Andy were both law enforcers, and she absolutely loved them although she often shuddered just thinking about the time she and her sisters had went into the future where witches were persecuted and Phoebe was burned. She looked at the two agents again and decided finally that she was definitely above having any prejudice and that it was certainly their unbearable self-important demeanor that was getting to her.
Definitely. That must be it.
Following this conclusion, she realized, albeit too late, that she was staring. She could see that Mulder had already noticed her and bestowed her with what she thought was a smug grin. Scully followed her partner's gaze, gave Piper a casual glance and focused her attention back at Mulder without any indication of a thought.
Schmuck-heads.
Part 5
"Mulder, I can't believe I let you got me into this." Scully said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Should I just abandon any hope of ever having a normal Christmas? Don't I deserve it, Mulder?" Realizing that she would go completely ballistic if she had to just look at her partner for even another split second, she wrapped her face into both hands and shook her head in despair. Even after everything they had gone through together, Scully was utterly unprepared for what was happening.
Mulder shook his head incredulously, amazed at his partner's reaction. "Scully, tell me you aren't excited. Look around us! This is time-travel. Did you ever think it was possible? You wouldn't believe when I told you about the time warp on Queen Anne. Now here we are! I hate do this but…I told you so." Mulder grinned, visibly pleased.
Scully forced herself to look up at the beaming face of her partner again, resisting the urge to trample him. "Time travel, Mulder. It runs completely counter to common sense! I mean it doesn't take an advanced degree in Physical Science to understand that .……."
"Understand what, Scully? We are in the past! I can't see how you could argue with that. True, it is against common sense. Only, common sense is about as reliable a guide to science as the well known "fact" that Einstein came up with the idea of time as the fourth dimension is to history."
"What are you talking about? It was Einstein, as every schoolchild knows, who first described time as 'the fourth dimension' when he published the Special Theory of Relativity in 1905."
"Then every schoolchild is wrong. Exactly a decade before that, in 1895, H. G. Wells published his classic story 'The Time Machine' and it was in it that he wrote, and I quote, that "there is no difference between Time and any of the three dimensions of Space, except that our consciousness moves along it". Mulder's eyes twinkled with delight, no doubt taking pleasure in correcting Scully.
"I'm not getting into that with you. Mulder, this is hardly the time." Scully groaned, wondering how she could ever have thought that such arguments was amusing in the past. Now it just irritated her.
Noticing her frustration, Mulder decided to leave H. G. Wells alone and continued, "Decades of research has led to the conclusion that there really isn't anything in Einstein's equations that prevents time travel and the general theory of relativity is the best theory of time and space we have. Even the most hard-nosed relativists bent on proving it all nonsense had to admit that. It has always been thought that time-travel would involve rotating black holes, that a black hole at one place and time is connected to a black hole in another place and time through a 'throat'. What if we don't need black holes and that doors not visible to our eyes already exist all around us but could only be opened by supernatural influences. Think about it Scully. We're already in the past and it is just illogical for you to doubt it. Do you actually think you're dreaming?"
"You have to take into account the paradoxes. The classic paradox, of course, occurs when a person travels back in time and does something to prevent their own birth. It goes against common sense and there has to be a law of nature to prevent time travel and thereby prevent paradoxes arising. Mulder, the universe works in a certain way that prevents such things from happening. Do you realize that movies dealing with time-travel never make complete sense? It's because this notion is absolutely ludicrous. We can't have everybody zooming in and out of time changing everything all the time. The world doesn't work like that. If it does, everything in front of everybody would be changing all the time, on their own, right in front of them and we can't possibly have that.
"No we can't have that," Mulder agreed, but went on right away, perhaps too eagerly, to add, "but time-traveling doesn't mean that everything would change right in front of you. Look, there is a way out of all those paradoxes. The Universe is split into infinitely many copies of itself, variations on a basic theme, in which all possible outcomes of all possible choices must happen somewhere in the "multiverse". So there is, for example, another version of you right now, that have chosen to become a doctor existing in a parallel universe. Suppose someone does go back in time to change certain things, on this multiverse picture, they would continue to move forward in time, but up a different branch of the multiverse. An alternative universe would be created and there would be no paradox.
"Mulder, this is science fiction. The idea of parallel universes and alternative histories is hardly taken seriously by any researcher and you know that."
"Then congratulations to us, Scully. We have just proven thousands of scientists wrong, haven't we.
"Hardly, Mulder. We're in the past, but that doesn't mean you're right about this multiverse theory." Scully retorted weakly.
"Scully, I expected something better from you." Mulder teased, looking like a child who got what he always wanted for Christmas. "But I could hardly blame you. After all, you don't have a strong case on your side in the first place, considering where we are." Mercilessly, he continued, "So, I take it that you've finally accepted you're not in a dream?"
Unable to come up with a suitable come-back, which is a considerably rare occurrence for Scully, she couldn't help but glared at Mulder.
At that point, Mulder recalled a story he once read, By His Bootstraps by science fiction writer Robert Heinlein. In his story, the protagonist stumbled on a time travel device brought back to the present by a visitor from the far future. He stole it and set up home in a deserted stretch of time, constantly worrying about being found by the old man he stole the time machine from -- until one day, many years later, he realises that he is now the old man, and carefully arranges for his younger self to "find" and "steal" the time machine. So the cycle continues. Mulder chuckled and turned to Scully, still obviously annoyed. "You look like you could use a funny story. Want to hear it?"
"Trust me Mulder, it is not going to be funny."