PART TWO

It seemed a good idea at the time - hide in the filing cabinet, nobody would think to look there. Two hours later, he was ready to tear the bloody thing apart with his bare hands. It was downright unnatural, what with his body being divided up between the drawers and all – and the fact that he couldn't see below his shoulders wasn't helping either; he knew he was incorporeal nowadays, but still.

For the tenth time that day, Spike wondered why he agreed to do this. But, of course, he already knew the answer to that one. He had been trying to shut his bloody ponce of a grandsire's mouth up before he stumbled onto the truth. Angel had come way too close to figuring out what had been plaguing him since he had popped back into existence and, as far as he was concerned, that was not a good thing.

Muffling a curse, he strained his ears and listened to the conversation that was going on in the library room outside. Same old, same old, they were still quarrelling over some Aramaic text. Two bloody hours spent arguing over whether a word should be translated into 'fog' or 'cloud' - it was the same bleeding thing, wasn't it? He knew William's geography lessons were bit out of date, but he was still pretty sure that a fog was just a low cloud.

And yet, there they were, going on and on about it. It didn't really surprise him that the guy with the nasal voice would be this pedantic, but he'd expected better from Wesley, he'd always struck Spike as having some commonsense.

The impulse to leap out and roar at them was becoming harder to resist with every passing second. Now he knew how Angel had managed to acquire some patience, lots of bleeding practice. Wincing as he did so, he counted to ten. He had just gotten to six – for the twelfth time – when Wesley announced that he had another appointment to keep. About time! Maybe now something interesting would happen around here, now that Wesley wasn't hovering about anymore.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long; Wesley was barely out of the room before he heard the squeak of a chair being pushed back. Within moments, the sound of a struck match caught his ears and he cursed the fact that he couldn't smell what was being lit. That was one of the worst things about being a ghost; his nose didn't work anymore. It had terrified him at first; a Vampires sense of smell was one of its most powerful tools and Spike had relied on his for over a hundred years. It was like suddenly losing his eyes. A nasal voice filled the air.

"Ad hoc…legerum…anno…."

"Oh, shit. It would have to be Latin, wouldn't it. Why did they always do that? It never ended well.

"Maximus… pax…notre…"

Yeah, it sounded like magic all right, the stupid git was trying to summon something. Spike decided to chance poking his face out for a look; the idiot would probably be too busy fiddling with his herbs to noticed a disembodied head, anyway.

Bloody Hell! At least now he knew what the match was for, the room was practically swimming in candles. Spike peered at the would be witch who, luckily, had his back turned to him as he knelt within his circle and droned on in badly pronounced Latin. Spike looked at the circle drawn on the tiles with suspicion, he couldn't be sure, but that looked remarkably like blood. He wasn't summoning anything nice, then.

A red haze filled the room and, for a split second, Spike thought of running to get Angel. The moment passed, however, and Spike looked on as the smoke coalesced outside the circle, slowly pulling itself into form. Truth be told, Spike was a little disappointed with the result, it looked human, he had been expecting something a bit more impressive, maybe a few wrinkly veins or a pair of horns. After seeing the things that Red could do with just a flick of a hand, everything else was bound to look second rate, he supposed.

"Why have you summoned me, you insignificant toad?" the apparition hissed.

Spike ducked his head back as he did a mental recalculation, this thing may look human, but any doubts about whether or not it was evil, disappeared the moment it opened it's mouth. He practically felt the bugger's voice crawl up his spine.

"Forgive me, oh omnipotent one," intoned 'nasal voice' cringingly. "But all the signs have been seen, the day is nearly here."

"Is that so," the apparition said softly, his voice almost a caress. "Tell me, have all the arrangements been made for my true return?"

"We have the book, my lord, and the sacrifice is safely installed in this very building as we speak. Everything has a gone to plan."

"You have done well, mortal, you will be suitably… rewarded… when the day comes," the apparition told the idiotic minion.

"Oh, thank you, my Lord, may your name be forever worshipped."

Sometimes Spike wondered about humans, he really did. Anyone with a half a brain could see that this git's 'reward' wasn't going to be anything pretty. Chances were, he was going to end up fish food – if he was lucky.

"We shall meet again, on the appointed day," the apparition promised as his voice faded away. "Then you will truly know the power of my beneficence."

"Yeah, right, I'm sure he will," Spike thought cynically as he popped out through the back wall and made for Angels office. He had barely made it around the corner when he bumped into Fred, or, to be more honest, walked through Fred.

"Oh, there you are," she exclaimed. "I've been looking all over for you, we've done it."

"Done what, pet?" he asked impatiently. Can't this woman ever get to the point? Normally he would find it endearing, but he was in a hurry, damnit.

"We've fixed the time differentiation problem, of course," Fred explained excitedly. "You'll be walking around in your old body before the day is out."

"No mushy parts?" Spike asked suspiciously.

"No mushy parts," she promised as she tried to grab his arm, forgetting they're was nothing to grab onto. "Oops, sorry. But never mind, we'll soon fix that, come on!"

"What, now?"

"Why not?"

"I have to go and speak to Angel first."

"You do? Why? You hate talking to Angel," Fred asked in surprise. "What's up?"

He really should remember that, for all her eccentricities, Fred was far from stupid. Obviously, Angel had decided not to tell her about his new job description. Why he hadn't, Spike didn't want to know. He quickly came to a decision. "It's nothing that can't wait, pet, lead on."

Fred beamed as she herded him along the hallway to her lab. "It's all set up, all you have to do is stand over there," she explained as they entered the room.

"How long is this going to take," he asked as he looked at the platform that Fred pointed to.

"Ten to fifteen minutes, no more," she replied as she scooted across the room to the device's controls. "Just step on up."

Reluctantly, Spike stepped onto the platform and waited.

"You might experience a slight tingly sensation, but don't worry, that's quite normal," she reassured him as she flipped a switch. "Hold on."

The platform hummed under his feet and started to glow. "What's with the lighting effects, luv," he asked worriedly, the memory of the amulet's effects still fresh in his mind.

"Oh, that's just a side effect of the ionic interference, nothing to worry about," Fred said as she looked up from her monitor.

Slightly mollified, he stood as patiently as he could while Fred twiddled at the controls on the other side of the room.

"Okay," she said chirpily. "I'm now bringing the time differentiation compensator online."

She was right about the tingly sensation, it was strangely invigorating, probably because it was the first true sensation he had felt since he'd died. His sense of touch had gone the same way as his nose once he'd acquired the ability to float through walls. He looked up to share this new revelation with Fred, when he noticed the frown on her face. "What's wrong? I'm not about to turn into a pumpkin am I?" he asked, with growing concern as she started typing away at her console furiously.

"I'm not sure," she replied absently. "It could be nothing, it's just that the other you that I'm trying to align you with doesn't seem to be resonating at quite the right frequency. I don't understand it, I've put in all the right parameters - Sunnydale, the Hellmouth, A person who was originally human but then lost it's soul when it became a demon - until it was resouled by it's own volition, date of demise, etcetera, etcetera. It should pull your previous body, just before it died, from an almost identical dimension to this, but it seems to be a little bit off."

"How 'off' are we talking about here," Spike demanded as he glared at her.

"Well…I can't be positive…but it seems that the body is human!" Fred thrilled. "Oh wow, you're going to be human! Isn't that great? Everyone will be so happy."

"I won't, you stupid bint," Spike roared, making Fred take an involuntary step back from the console. "Send it back – now."

"But… but… I thought you'd be pleased," Fred protested. "I mean, Angel is always saying…"

"I'm not Angel," Spike told her through gritted teeth. "Send it back."

"I can't," Fred admitted in a small voice. "Once it has started, it can't be reversed."

The tingling sensation was becoming more intense as the seconds ticked by and Spike decided that there was only one thing he could do before it was too late; he stepped off the platform.

"What are you doing," Fred squealed as she rushed forward.

"I told you, I don't want to be human," he said shortly as he stood back and watched the platform.

"But we can't have two Spikes running around, Angel will kill me!" she wailed as she watched the platform with rounded eyes.

"If it's human, it won't be me, will it?" Spike reasoned. "It will be William."

"Same difference!" she retorted.

"Believe me, luv, it isn't," Spike replied with a sigh. "This is for the best, Fred. The only way this thing was going to work, was if I ended up in my old body. A demon running around in a human is not a good idea."

"But you've got a soul now," Fred protested.

"But I've still got my Demon too, pet," Spike explained. "Believe me, William wouldn't be able to handle it and I should know - I used to be him."

As one, they turned to look at the platform. "I'm not so sure about this," Fred said querulously, as a vague form began to pull into focus on the platform.

"There is no going back now, luv," Spike informed her. "You said that yourself, remember?"

Slowly, the form took shape and they could now make out a human outline.

"I could be wrong here, but doesn't that seem to be a bit on the short side to you," Spike asked as he tilted his head and measured it's height with his eyes.

"Now that you mention it, it does seem to be a bit petite," Fred replied thoughtfully, hurrying back to her console. "Let me check the diagnostics… oooh…"

Spikes head spun around to look at her, and registered the stunned look on her face in an instant. "What's up, luv?"

Fred just pointed at the platform in reply. Spike slowly looked back at the platform and watched in amazement as the human took on its final features and became – someone who definitely wasn't William.

"What the…where the hell am I," the woman on the platform demanded, holding her sword up defensively - only to lower it a moment later when she spotted Spike. "Spike, is that you? Where did all the Bringers go? Did we win? Are we dead? Is this some eerie metaphorical representation of heaven or something?" the questions slipped out like quicksilver as she looked wildly around the room.

Spike didn't answer, he couldn't, he was too busy laughing his head off.

"Spike, are you okay, is it some kind of seizure?" the woman asked concernedly as she stepped off the platform and approached the vampire, who was now rolling around on the floor.

Fred decided to speak up. "Hi!" she squeaked. "My name is Fred, what's yours?"

The woman looked at her suspiciously. "Why do want to know?" she asked. "Are you an agent of the first? If so, I'll have you know that I'm not going to listen to you, I wasn't born yesterday, you know."

"Huh?" Fred asked, but the woman had already turned her attention back to Spike.

"Spike, Spike, can you talk?" the woman asked uncertainly. Tentatively, she tried to touch Spike's shoulder, squealing as her hand passed right through him.

Spike gasped for air as he tried to answer. "Was human… lost soul… regained… voluntari…" it was too much, he collapsed into giggles once more.

"Okay, what did you do to him," the woman yelled, as she made a beeline for Fred, her sword at the ready. "I know how to use this, you know. I've had plenty of practice today already."

"No… it's alright…I'm okay," said Spike as he pulled himself off the floor. "This is Fred, she's one of Angel's lot."

"Angel?" she said questioningly. "But I thought he'd scurried off to Los Angelus, second front and all that."

"This is Los Angelus, luv," he told her gently. "And yeah, we won… and no, you're not dead… not anymore anyway," he amended.

"Um, excuse me? Could someone tell me what's going on here?" Fred broke in.

"It's quite simple, luv," Spike said as he looked at Fred from the corner of his eye. "You forgot to add one extra condition to your 'parameters', you should have mentioned that you were looking for a bloke."

"But what difference would that make? I mean, how many resouled vampires were they, at that battle?"

"That's another thing, luv," he reminded her with a smirk. "You also failed to add the fact that you were looking for a vampire."

"But…" Fred didn't get a chance to finish, however.

"Fred, this is Anyanka," Spike explained. " Anya was born human, but lost her soul when she became a vengeance demon. It's a long story, but last year Anya decided to return to her human roots, so to speak - and as humans have souls…."

"… Anya regained her's," Fred finished for him. "Oh dear…"

TBC…