Chapter Twenty

I had to upload this part again because I made slight changes at the end.

At quarter to eight that night Wesley entered "David's Dockside", a small pub fifteen minutes away from their hotel. It was located in one of the darker alleys London's north had to offer and Wesley wouldn't have been surprised to see other than human population frequenting it.

But so far he was able to make out only four or five other clients through thick tobacco smoke, and all of them looked rather human to him.

Wesley crossed the room, alone for now. They'd agreed that Spike, Angel and Cordelia would come in a few minutes later to sit nearby but not with him. It would certainly be better if Wesley talked to Henry alone at first, wouldn't it?

After getting himself a pint at the counter Wesley took a seat at one of the tables near the back door where he could overlook the crowd (or rather the almost empty room). And then he enjoyed the first sip of true English beer in over a year. God, how he'd missed it!

Not that he was a big drinker, far from it. But American beer just couldn't hold a candle against this!

"Missed the taste, Wesley?" a quiet voice suddenly asked.

Wesley's head shot up and, nearly choking on his beer in the process, his eyes fell onto a tall man around his own age, clad in a dark overcoat with a well-fitting tweet suit underneath. The typical bow tie completed the Watcher outfit but the ruffled brown hair falling into his piercing blue eyes made it look stylish instead of stuffy..

'He has Spike's eyes,' Wesley thought, astonished that he'd never noticed before. But then, he hadn't known Spike as well then as he did now, had he? No, back when he and Henry, for that's who the man was of course, had been students at the Academy, William the Bloody had been nothing but a good reason to make them shake in their boots.

Wesley noticed that he hadn't answered and he quickly cleared his throat, motioned for Henry to sit down, and said: "Yes, well… American beer is just not the same, you know?" Then he offered his hand over the table and added: "Nice to see you again, Henry."

"Nice to see you, Wesley," Henry shook his hand, set his pint of ale on the table and shrugged out of his overcoat.

Wesley used the moment to take a closer look on Henry. He hadn't changed much over the past year, the hair was a bit longer than he remembered but other than that…

"So," Henry addressed him again, "are you back from over the pond for good then? One would certainly assume that after the fiasco with those two Slayers you'd want to leave that country sooner rather than later."

Wesley stiffened slightly in his seat but Henry's next words were spoken much more friendly: "It wasn't right of the Council to fire you though, I am certain that even Quentin Travers couldn't have done a better job with a rogue Slayer like Faith. That one would have handed his arse to him on a platter!"

Wesley let out a short chuckle and relaxed. "I take it Travers is not so much in your good books anymore, is he?"

"Well," Henry admitted, "he is still the one in charge, so you won't hear me saying anything against him too loudly, but…"

"But?" Wesley inquired, interested in hearing Henry's opinion on the Council.

"Not everything going on is truly for the greater good and that's all I'm saying." Henry quietly answered and took a sip from his pint.

Wesley breathed out in relief. Chances were good for them, weren't they? Maybe Henry would indeed be willing to help them steal the prophecy from the Archive. Maybe even without mentioning Spike?

"But enough of the Council," Henry continued more joyful than before. "You certainly didn't contact me to talk about them lot, did you? What is it you came here for? On the phone you said you needed to know something about a certain prophecy? Which one were you referring to?"

"Well," Wesley drawled after he'd taken a quick look around to make sure no one was listening in on them. "That is rather the problem, I am not sure which prophecy we need."

"Who is 'we'?" Henry asked immediately. "Who are you working for nowadays?"

'Oh bollocks, good one, Wes!' the ex-watcher could hear Spike's reproach in his head and had to smile. He had really spent too much time with the vampire if his mind started to sound like him. Out loud he answered: "I'm working for no one, Henry. I am a rogue demon hunter."

"Really!" Henry quirked an eyebrow and while Wesley was trying to figure out if he was impressed or amused the other man went on: "What kind of demon are you hunting? And why would you think anything evil would play a role in a prophecy?"

"Oh, come on, Henry! You know just as well as I do that there are hundreds of prophecies about demons or… vampires for that matter," Wesley waved off unimpressed. "I heard you had become quite an expert on prophecies these days."

"Just because I spent the last five months categorizing the Archive does not mean…" Henry looked up sharply. "You need something from the Archive, don't you?"

Wesley was about to reply something but then a dangerously low voice from the side suddenly beat him to it: "Well, well. See here, right quick on the uptake, aren't you?"

Both men looked up and right into Spike's sombre face. For once the vampire wasn't wearing his usual smirk but a truly menacing expression. Wesley had to suppress a groan. Of course Spike had to have his special entrance, impatient bugger!

"Dear Lord," Henry sputtered and half rose from the table, only to be pushed back onto the bench by Spike. "That is… you are…"

"Your dear old gramps or whatever, in all his not-so-departed glory. Flesh and blood, alive and kicking and all that!" Spike flashed an evil grin before he thought again and added: "Well, not so much alive these days but… you get what I'm saying, don't you, Henry-boy?"

Henry's face had gone as pale as the vampire's and he was still stuttering incoherently. "You… I mean, you are…"

"Oh come on, Henry!" Spike cheered, obviously enjoying the situation. He clapped the mortified human on the back and went on: "Give your old man a hug!"

And then he slid onto the bench beside Henry, one arm still slung around the poor man's shoulders. Wesley watched the situation with rolling eyes.

"For God's sake, Spike!" he finally cut in, "He won't be of much help to us if you give him a heart attack now!"

"Bugger, you're right, Wes!" Spike pulled his arm away and moved an inch or so away from Henry to give him some space. "I guess the hug will have to wait till after we got the prophecy then!" And then he put the dirtiest grin Wesley had ever seen onto his face.

"Spike," he tried to get the vampire's attention once more, "where are the others?"

"Huh? Oh, they're over there at the bar!"

Wesley followed Spike's nod in the direction of the counter and saw Cordelia and Angel sitting there, throwing glares at their table (or, well, at Spike).

"And why are you not with them?" Wesley wanted to know.

"Oh, you know me, Wes," Spike smirked. "Too bloody impatient for my own good. Couldn't wait to meet dear Henry here, see?"

Wesley shook his head and sighed. He should have known that Spike would barge right in instead of letting him handle Henry. The ex-watcher took his gaze back to the other human who was still staring speechlessly at Spike from the side.

"Henry?" Wes addressed him cautiously, "Take a breath, he is not going to hurt you."

"What? But he's… and you are…" the watcher broke off and eyed Wesley closely. "Are you a vampire? Did he…"

"I am not a vampire," Wesley assured quickly. He held out his arm for Henry to check his pulse and after the watcher had done just that Wesley continued: "I know seeing him must come as quite a shock to you, Henry, but believe me, you are not in any danger. I will explain everything to you, like I had planned before Spike barged in on us. So, please relax, take another drink and listen, alright?"

Henry simply nodded and picked up his pint to gulp down his beer. His hand was shaking slightly but he had stopped staring at Spike and looked at Wesley instead.

"And Spike?" Wes glared at the vampire. "Wipe that smirk off your face and try not to frighten him further. Oh, and don't interrupt me, okay?"

Spike opened his mouth to protest but Wesley shushed him with a determined "Ah-ah-ah! No interruptions!"

"You haven't even started, pet!" Spike complained but then he shut up and Wesley turned to Henry again. The man had watched their exchange with an incredulous expression, eyes flickering from Wesley to Spike and back, mouth wide open.

"So," Wesley finally began, "about that prophecy…"

It had taken Wesley ten minutes, two more pints of beer and seven glares in Spike's direction to convince Henry of the fact that the vampire wouldn't hurt him. And then Angel had thrown himself into the mix by coming over and Henry had needed another ten minutes to adjust to him. But eventually the watcher had calmed down enough to let the strange group fill him in on what they needed his help for.

They had tried to talk around the whole time-travel thing but so far they hadn't accomplished anything but going around in circles.

"What I don't understand, Wesley," Henry shook his head for the fifth time that night, "is what you'd want to achieve helping a vampire. And what do you hope to find in the Archive?"

"You ever heard of something called 'The Lost Words Veiled'?" Spike asked suddenly.

"Of course," Henry answered promptly, facing the vampire for the first time in minutes, "I have examined The Case. But…"

"I've read that phrase before. But, Henry, why case? Isn't the prophesy a scroll?" Wesley wanted to know.

"Nobody knows exactly. There is this wooden case that no one but Him can open. It is said to hold 'The Lost Words Veiled'," Henry looked around with a frown. "Is that what you are after?"

"Perhaps," Wesley evaded quickly. "Can you tell us more about the case? What does it say about the Him who can open it?"

"Well, the engravings on the case are not all that clear although they are written in plain English. Many people have tried to decipher their meaning, for centuries watchers have sought to unravel this mystery…"

Henry's speech was cut off by an impatient shove from the side followed by Spike's growl: "Come on, Henry-boy, cut the lecture and get to the point already! Do you know what's said on that bloody case or not?"

"Ugh," Henry stuttered, "yes, yes I do. The engravings say:

'He will come when the time is not right, He who has chosen the Light.

It is for Him alone to unlock and for his Future to wield with pride.'

Hearing the words Spike felt a cold shiver run down his spine, just like when he and Wesley had come across the reference to the lost words for the first time in their research. He knew somehow that those words were meant for him.

The vampire felt Wesley's eyes upon him and he looked up, locking their gazes over the table.

"That's it," they said simultaneously.

They'd found it at last.

"What? That's it?" Cordelia voiced her thoughts for the first time that night. "What does that even mean?"

"Well," Wesley tried to explain, "I assume these words refer to Spike, he's the one who can unlock the case for he is the one who has chosen the light and for him the time is not right. We know that already."

"Okay, Mr. I'm-so-clever, I actually figured that part out for myself. I meant the last part, with the future and the wielding and… does that mean there's some kind of weapon in the case?"

"Yeah," Angel agreed.

"And for his Future to wield with pride, is that what you meant?" Henry asked shyly.

"Yes," Cordelia frowned back at the Englishman, "that doesn't make much sense, does it? I mean… if it's a weapon then how can the future wield it? It's not a person!"

"We don't know that for sure," Wesley quickly retorted. "It could be a reference to, you know…" he broke off, unsure if he would reveal too much of Spike's time-travel. But then he decided that they had to fill Henry in on every detail if they wanted his help and so he added: "It could mean Spike's future counterpart, as in… him," he nodded briefly at Spike.

Angel frowned: "But that would mean the one to unlock the case would have to be the other Spike, this time's Spike, right?"

"Well," Wesley thought about it. "That can't be right because this time's Spike doesn't have a soul. He didn't choose the light yet. No, that's…"

"Excuse me?" Henry suddenly stared at Wesley, "I am afraid I… did I hear you right? He has a soul?"

"He is sitting right here, so why don't you ask him?" Spike growled and waited for Henry to look at him.

"So, so you…" Henry stuttered.

"Yeah."

"W-willingly?"

"Yes, I did," Spike sighed with rolling eyes.

"And… and you, you are not, I mean… Am I to understand that you think you are from another time?" Henry inquired further.

"I don't think that, mate. I know it!" Spike was slowly getting fed up with this. "So are we done playing twenty-questions or what?"

"I… I'm sorry, but… but that would mean…" Henry stopped to take a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a second. When he looked at the others again a smile slowly made it onto his face and his blue eyes got a wicked gleam, no more trace of fear or insecurity in them.

"I knew it! Time-travel is possible! I was right!" he exclaimed, "Oh how I wish the other Watchers could be here to hear this! They all said that I was mental when I proposed it as the only conclusion to my research on the case."

"Well, looks like you came to the right conclusion, mate," Spike grinned. "Question is, how is that bloody case gonna help me get back to the future? And, more importantly, how are you gonna get it out of its hidey-hole for me?"

"Out of its…?" Henry broke off and shook his head. "Get the case out of the Archive? I'm afraid that's not possible."

"Why not?" Wesley frowned. "It was brought in by the Slayer of 1976, Nikki Wood." He noticed Spike nod out of the corner of his eye and briefly wondered if she had been one of the two Slayers he'd killed. Then he focussed on the topic again. "Why can't you take it out again?"

"Well, first of all, I'm no Slayer. The case is larger than a coffin and, even though it's made of wood, it weights as much as a grown elephant. No mere human could possibly lift it."

"But I could," Spike threw in.

"No offence, but you couldn't." Henry saw Spike open his mouth to protest and quickly added: "It's not only heavy but also secured in place by magic. I'm afraid no one will be able to move it without the counter-spell. And I have no idea where that is stored. I doubt it's written down at all."

Spike's jaw clapped shut.

"But that means…" Wesley's eyes glazed over. Things suddenly got a lot more complicated. They couldn't simply steal the case from the Archive. So that meant… "If Mohammed not come to the mountain…"

"Huh?" Cordelia frowned.

"Mount Spike will have to find a way to Mohammed," Henry finished for Wesley.

"Bloody hell," Spike sighed and closed his eyes.

The words engraved on the case were inspired by the BtVS-Episode "Empty Places" (When Spike reads the tablet in the mission: "It is not for thee. It is for Her alone to wield"). So the credit goes to Joss & Co.