Title: GOOD ENOUGH FOR BUFFY - "William's Return" (2/2) Author: Bonnie Email: bondav40@yahoo.com Rating: R (for brief sex scene) Summary: Second ending to "Good Enough for Buffy" What's a humanized Spike like? Check out previously posted alternate ending. Disclaimer: All belongs to Joss and UPN.

William gazed around the unfamiliar room in confusion. Hospital? No. But he felt so feverish and disoriented that he must be suffering or just recovering from pneumonia. Every breath he drew burned his lungs like a brand and there was a high-pitched ringing in his ears.

"Spike? Can you hear me? It's Buffy."

His eyes slid back to the young lady with cropped, blond hair, who hovered above him. Nurse? No. She wasn't dressed appropriately. As a matter of fact she was clothed most inappropriately in a little camisole and boy's pants. William was aghast at her attire and wondered what kind of place he had woken up in and how. Searching his memory, he DID recall drinking too much after Cecily's cruel rejection. He had left the party in humiliation, realized he couldn't face an evening at home with mother, and stopped at a pub for a drink or two, or four.... That was the last he remembered.

He must have been waylaid in the alley then taken to this....brothel? No. It was a parlor floor and not a bed on which he rested. What a strange parlor, indeed! The furniture, the prints on the walls, the light fixtures, and that odd, square, mechanical contraption in the corner, all contributed to a feeling of otherworldliness. Nothing looked or felt quite right. And why was this strange girl fondling his hand and touching his face. William felt his pulse begin to quicken in fear. Something was definitely wrong and panic was not far away.

A dark, foreign-looking man appeared over the girl's shoulder. He said something to her about "Spike" and "ritual" and "memory loss," and the girl began to yell at him angrily.

"Ex....excuse me," William interrupted in a rasping voice. "Water....please...."

"Spike!" The girl began chattering at him again, and he closed his eyes to ward off the force of her exuberance. It was all too much.....too much. His mind drifted away again.

Moments later he was awakened by the lifting of his head and a glass of water being pressed to his lips. He drank gratefully then slipped back into blessed sleep, praying he would wake and find it all a nightmare.

A stream of sunshine warming his hand jerked William from a deep sleep. He pulled back from the patch of sun with a cry, fearing he'd be burned, then wondered where that odd thought had come from. He sat up, fighting back nausea, and rubbed his eyes. Looking around the strange room left him as nonplussed as the night before. Not only was he completely lost as to where he was, but nothing about this room looked "normal." The wallpaper, the bindings on the books, the oddly glossy magazines, and, again, that damn mechanical box in the corner, which now inexplicably had some images moving across it; none of these things seemed right.

The blond girl lay on a sofa nearby, covered with a brightly colored blanket made of some odd kind of material. Her arm was crooked under her head. Her lips were slightly parted, and he could hear her breath whistling in and out from his seat on the floor. William cocked his head to one side and considered her. She was a pretty little thing, but very loud when she was awake he decided. Definitely unladylike.

Just then the foreign looking gentleman entered the room carrying a steaming mug of coffee. He started slightly to see his guest awake.

"Well, good morning! How does your head feel?" the man asked jovially in an American accent.

"Feeling rather nasty actually," he replied, rubbing his temple, which throbbed painfully.

"Here," the American handed him the hot cup. "Hope you like it black. It'll fix you right up. I'll just get myself another."

Accepting the drink, which he heartily wished was tea, the young man thanked his host. The girl on the sofa began to stir and woke with a mighty yawn, then, as if suddenly remembering where she was, sat bolt upright, her wide hazel eyes flying open.

"Spike!" she gasped upon seeing William, then launched herself off the couch and onto him, almost spilling the coffee in his hand. Their host quickly retrieved the cup and stepped back, while the frightening girl covered William with kisses and embraced him so hard he feared she would snap his spine.

He pushed her away with both hands, horrified at the display yet, unfortunately, aroused at the same time. The binding clothes he found himself in were cutting most uncomfortably into his genitals. For the first time, William examined his own apparel, shamelessly tight black pants and shirt, and wondered again what had happened and how he had gotten to this place, in these clothes, with this young woman straddling him.

"Spike?" The girl was whimpering now, her forehead creased in concern. "Are you all right?"

"Young lady, I don't know who you think I am, but....." he allowed the thought to trail off, hoping she would take the hint and remove herself from his lap.

"Amnesia," their host muttered, setting the coffee mug on a table and crouching down beside them. "Do you know your name?"

"Yes. It's William." The blond girl gasped. "Could you please tell me where I am and what has happened? I must be getting home quickly. Mother will be very worried."

"Whoo boy," The dark skinned man ran a hand through his hair and pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I was kinda afraid of this."

"What?! What is going on? Explain this!" the young lady hissed. "You mean to tell me he only has William's memories now? Who do you think you are playing God! You had no right to mess with him like this. Now look what you've done!"

Her tirade would have gone on, but William interrupted. "I'm sorry, miss. I don't know what has upset you or who you think I am, but I need to have some answers to my questions....right now!"

"All right. Everybody calm down now." The man raised both hands placatingly. "William, you're not going to believe all that we have to tell you, so I'm going to ask you to hear the story out 'til the end, even if it seems illogical or downright crazy. As for you Miss Summers, you can tear me a new one later on. Right now it's important we set this fella's mind at ease and tell him what's going on."

The girl nodded and shot the man a glare. "Let me tell it then."

"First let's get William settled someplace a little more comfortable, and maybe add a drop of brandy to that coffee. Why don't you sit in this chair," the older man gestured to a worn armchair as he went to a sideboard to pull out a liquor bottle. Feeling helpless and overwhelmed, William did as he was bid, sitting and drinking deeply of the beverage which went straight to his head, while the girl settled at his feet and began her story.

"My name is Buffy Summers. This is Sam Fairman. He's a Native American shaman. And you are no longer in the year 1880, let alone in England. We're in Arizona, in the United States....." The girl's story unraveled from that point on, becoming more rambling and outlandish by the second. William thought it a pity that such a pretty woman was cursed with insanity, and that her fevered imaginings were encouraged by her keeper. He looked up at the other man with a frown of disapproval. But Mr. Fairman only nodded in agreement with the strange tale.

Miss Summers went on and on, gesturing with her hands, emotions flying across her open face. It was obvious she believed in what she said with every fiber of her being. And it was obvious she was fervently devoted to the vampire character "Spike" which she had somehow identified with William. The poor, poor child. Maybe the new, modern treatment of electric shock therapy could shake the girl from her delusion.

William felt Sam Fairman's dark eyes upon him, piercing through his nodding and smiling facade. The would-be shaman suddenly interrupted the young woman's barrage of words.

"Take a look around you, William. Does anything seem familiar? Does any of it look right? Look out my window. Does it look like England? How do you think you suddenly arrived in the middle of the desert? Look at our clothes. Are they like any you've ever seen before? Come and see the appliances in my kitchen.....or that TV over there...." He picked up a little black rectangle and suddenly caused the mechanical device in the corner to blare with sound.

"Double your pleasure. Double your fun." Jangling music played as two young women riding bicycles in their undergarments smiled wide, toothy grins. The picture changed and horrible battlefield scenes in miniature appeared on the box. It shifted again and an orange tabby cat was digging in a box of sand while different jangly music played.

William's empty stomach began to heave and he felt a return of the fluttering panic, which had threatened to overwhelm him the evening before. His sight seemed to be darkening around the edges and a dreadful pounding filled his head.

"Pardon me," he whispered shakily. "Do you have a basin? I believe I'm going to...."

"Wastebasket." Fairman pointed behind the blond and she quickly grabbed the receptacle and got it under William's face as he vomited the contents of his stomach into it. She rubbed his back as he wretched and shot venom from her eyes at the shaman who had caused this mess.

When the heaving subsided, William was shaky and pale, but for the first time ready to really listen to their explanation of the events leading up to finding himself in this strange place and time.

"Tell ya what, William. Let's take a break and get some chow into you. It'll all look better on a full stomach. I can fry up some eggs and bacon, and I got some leftover biscuits. You too, young lady. The talk can wait." Allowing no further discussion, Mr. Fairman grabbed William's arm and helped him to his feet. Buffy supported his weight on the other side, and, although he felt foolish, the young man realized he was too dizzy to walk on his own and accepted their help. They walked him to the kitchen and deposited him on a chair.

As Fairman moved around the kitchen, whipping together a hearty breakfast, and the girl set the table under his instruction, William gazed in wonder at the humming icebox in the corner. It was electrical as were the lights which illuminated the room.....and the device for toasting bread which Miss Summers was operating. He could see a glow from the coils inside it heating up. And that icebox! It let out cold air every time it was opened. William had read an article about electricity and basically understood the concept, but he could never have imagined the miraculous possibilities that would be generated by the invention. The hard, cold fact of the mechanical appliances in the room alone was almost enough to convince him that he was indeed in the future and not in some hallucination. He knew he just wasn't imaginative enough to have dreamed up these things.

"Biscuits or toast?" Miss Summers was asking him.

"Um...."

"Toast it is." She slapped a slice of perfectly browned bread on the plate of steaming eggs and rashers that Mr. Fairman had just placed in front of him. Despite his recent upheaval, his stomach was now rumbling in response to the delicious aroma of the food.

"And orange juice," she added, pouring a tall glass of yellow colored liquid.

His thirst was extreme and he took a tentative taste of the beverage, finding it tart and sweet at the same time. Of course he had often had a Christmas orange, but never a drink squeezed from the fruit. Excellent!

"Dig in there, Will," his host encouraged. William lifted his fork, then quickly set it down and rose as the young lady seated herself across the table from him. She looked up in confusion and he reseated himself, wondering whether she should be treated as a servant or an equal. His well- taught etiquette told him to hold her chair for her, but it seemed that everything about him was antiquated in this time and place. He would need to keep his mouth shut and ears open to fit in to this new society, and, hopefully, it wouldn't be long before he could find a way back to his own world.

With no further ado, no thanking of the Lord, the odd pair across from him began to eat. William noted their appalling table manners as he delicately forked up a bit of egg. Then a ravenous hunger overtook him and he forgot everything his mother had ever taught him and attacked the food.

After the meal, both Mr. Fairman and Miss Summers quickly whisked the dishes from the table and rinsed them in the sink. At the touch of a metal knob, water gushed forth. There was no hand pump to draw the water to the spigot so William assumed the source must be electricity again. An electric pump that supplied water indoors! Amazing!

"So what do you think of our brave new world?" the dark-skinned man asked as he poured three cups of the foul tasting coffee.

"A little overwhelming," William admitted, "and marvelous. Man's ingenuity is boundless. But please, Miss Summers, could you repeat your story? I will endeavor to listen with a more open mind this time, since the proof of my own eyes tells me that at least part of your tale is true."

He didn't understand why the girl's lovely hazel eyes suddenly welled with tears, as she searched his face with intensity. He blushed under her scrutiny and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Obviously she thought there should be more to him......was waiting for some spark of recognition from him that he just couldn't give. Miss Summers sniffled a little then angrily brushed the tears away with her fingertips and launched into the same bizarre tale of vampires and slayers, passion and violence, death and redemption. It was the stuff of penny dreadfuls and William had trouble keeping a straight face during the most fanciful parts.

Finally he had to interrupt. "So you would have me believe that I underwent some kind of metaphysical transformation, became an undead being, walked this earth for over 120 years wreaking havoc, was inspired by love for you, and contacted Mr. Fairman to enact another transformation to bring back my former self? Is that it?"

"Yeah, that about covers it," the young lady nodded, blushing at his sarcastic tone. "Except you were supposed to retain some of Spike's characteristics." She scowled at Fairman, "What happened to the whole 'melding of two beings into one' thing, Miracle Max?"

"I'm sorry! It's not an exact science. I did my best. But, I'm still convinced the demon part of your friend is in there somewhere. Maybe it's hibernating or something," he finished lamely.

"All I know is what I see," she continued angrily. "And THIS," she gestured wildly at William, "is not my boyfriend."

"Pardon me. Not to quibble, but wasn't this MY body to begin with in your scenario? Haven't I a right to be in it? And can you please tell me, assuming all you say is true, how I can be returned to my own time?"

"You can't," Sam said gently. "This isn't a matter of time travel. Your time is long past. History. There's no going back."

"But. But I...."

"Look, William," the young lady said roughly. "I'm none to happy with the outcome of this little experiment either. But here you are, so try to accept it. You've been given another chance at life. Maybe you can be happier here in the 20th century than you were in your own time. It's not like you really have anything to go back to. Spike told me what a lose....um...unhappy person you were."

"I most certainly was not....."

"Oh come on. Rejected by women, future going nowhere, mama's boy.....that's why you leaped at what Dru offered. You had a secret desire for power and sex and.....and chaos."

William paled at her hateful words, which struck a chord of truth somewhere deep inside.

"I don't wish to listen to this! If you'll excuse me, I need some air." He practically leaped from the table and headed for the door, hearing Fairman try to calm the furious girl in the kitchen behind him.

Another curtain of dizziness and blackness began to descend on the vision of the lost young man, but he pushed it back. "I will not faint. I will NOT in front of her." and reached out for the doorknob. He pulled it open and bright morning sun poured into the front hall. William jumped back with a loud cry from the warmth lapping over his feet and legs. Good Christ, it was going to burn him up!

"What is it?" he heard the hateful girl, Buffy, call as she came running.

"Nothing!" he snapped. "I was just....surprised at the....brightness of the day." He stood, staring transfixed at the block of sunlight that lay on the floor in front of him. His booted foot was in shadow and he cautiously moved it into the light.

"What's the matter?" she pressed. "Are you going out? Can you.....?"

He took a deep breath and stepped a little farther into the light. He reached his hand out and experimentally moved it into the sun's rays. Backlit, it glowed red from the blood-flow within. He almost expected it to sizzle like Fairman's frying eggs. Where was this insane notion coming from? He took another step. Then another and another....

Suddenly his whole body was immersed in sunshine. It bathed his face and he squinted, then closed his eyes. Hot! It was so hot! William felt nauseous as waves of heat swept over him, and flashing images played behind his closed lids. He saw Buffy laying beneath him, hair fanned out in a golden halo around her head, eyes slitted, lips half parted in ecstasy, and felt her great heat surrounding him down below. He glimpsed a stranger's face contorted in fear and agony, then felt a searing burst of coppery tasting blood in his mouth. Hellish visions of demons, death and destruction flowed past his gaze, frightening but also strangely exciting William, until he began to lose consciousness.

He felt the girl's firm hand on his arm as she kept him from sagging to the floor. His eyes flickered open and vision cleared, as he regained his balance.

"I'm all right," he assured her, shakily. He pulled away from her viselike grip, thinking she was ridiculously strong for such a little thing, and he was imminently thankful that she couldn't see the image of her that had just passed through his mind. He grasped the door frame for support and walked out onto Sam Fairman's doorstep and into an oven-baked desert morning.

William filled his lungs with the dry, almost choking, air, and, looking around at the scorched yards in front of a row of similar one story houses, decided this was a hellish place to live. A pang of homesickness for the familiar damp, sunless climate of his native land brought unexpected tears to his eyes.

"Are you going to be okay," the girl behind him queried. "I can walk with you."

He shook his head. "No. No thank you. I've seen enough. I think I would like to lie down now." He turned toward the house, avoiding her eyes, and pushed his way back into the blessed dimness of the interior.

************ "You can stay another night," Sam's kind eyes offered support and encouragement, but Buffy declined.

"Thanks. You've been....too helpful already. Maybe taking Spike back to familiar surroundings will waken his memory. If not....." she trailed off, not knowing what she would do with 'William'. "Could I leave his car here? If we don't come back for it in a couple of months, sell it for whatever you can get out of it."

The shaman nodded. "Look, I'm real sorry things didn't turn out the way your friend wanted. I was hoping the demon and the human soul could blend together." He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe, given time, there's still a chance - that is, if any of your friend is left behind in there."

Buffy impaled him with a steely look, then went to wake her new houseguest and inform him that they were going home. Of course, he immediately resisted.

"I'm sorry, young lady, but I'm not going anywhere with you. This gentleman seems to be the one with the magical skills, and I'm counting on him to help me get back where I belong."

"Spike, you don't get it...."

"Please stop calling me that. My name is William."

"All right, 'William' then," she sighed. "There IS no going back. You're time is over. Didn't we explain that to you!"

"Maybe if I could only....go to England. If I could see my home again....."

"And do what? It's just a building, if it's even still standing. Your family is long gone."

William subsided into silence. The girl was harsh but truthful. He must simply find some way to deal with this unbelievable catastrophe and carry on.

"I-I'm sorry," Miss Summers spoke in a gentler tone. "I know none of this is your fault. I shouldn't be such a bitch. I just really miss...." She broke off, tears choking her voice and turned away.

The young man was taken aback by her casual use of the word 'bitch' and blushed slightly, then, decided it wouldn't do to show his shock about every aspect of modern woman. He wasn't sure if this one was an anomaly because of being 'The Slayer', but judging from the images he had seen on the TV apparatus, it was a whole different world for ladies.

Buffy turned back toward him, composed but grim. "Come on. Let's go. It's a long drive back." She led the way outdoors and the two men trailed after her. William took one look at the motorized carriage they were obviously going to be traveling in and felt simultaneously excited and faint.

"You keep in touch." Sam Fairman shook their hands. "You got my number if anything goes really wrong. Meanwhile, I'll keep working on it. I have some friends who might have some insight into the whole demon/human issue."

Buffy nodded and walked around to the driver's side of the car. William stood, staring at the door handle trying to figure out how it worked, fumbled with it for a moment, then opened it and slid onto the cracked vinyl seat. As the girl turned a key and the engine roared into life sending a shudder through the vehicle, he found there was a restraining harness to buckle around the passenger. He quickly ascertained how to click the metal piece into place.

"It takes awhile for the air conditioning to kick in. You might want to open the window," Buffy said. As he hesitated, again examining the door, she added, "That handle right there. It's not automatic."

"Oh, I see," he replied as if he had any idea what she was talking about. Automatic? Air conditioning? Then he rolled down the window to let the stifling air of the desert replace the stifling air of the automobile.

William's stomach leaped as the rusty Datsun began to move forward. The houses of the neighborhood flashed past. Turning a corner, they left the tiny enclave of civilization and were instantly on a highway that stretched forever among rocks, sand, cactus and sagebrush. The blond girl pressed her foot against a pedal on the floor and they sped up to a rushing, stomach-grabbing 50 miles per hour, according to the gauge on the dashboard. Wind whipped through the vehicle and William's eyes stung from the gritty particles in it.

"Sorry to go so slow. Xander's car doesn't go much over 50," Buffy apologized.

"Of course," William tried to sound casual, as his stomach dropped in horror at the unaccustomed speed. He stared out the window as the desert passed by, and gradually his clenched fists relaxed their hold on the car seat, as he realized there was no immediate danger of a crash. Just when he was beginning to think it was rather pleasant, the girl urged him to roll up the window so she could turn on the 'air'. He did as he was bid. A rush of tepid air came rolling from the dashboard, cooling the unbearable interior.

"How does that work?" he asked, fascinated by the possibility of climate control.

"Well, you just turn this knob here to 'air' and, you know, it gets cold - or, at least, cool," the young woman explained vaguely.

William smiled. Trust a female not to understand the workings of a mechanical device.

"What? Wipe that smirk off your face. I'm not a car person, and I could care less how it works!" she protested, reading his thoughts. "If you really wanna know, ask a mechanic."

"I beg your pardon. I didn't say a word," he answered, unsuccessfully trying to suppress his grin. He looked back out the window at the harsh landscape and brilliant blue sky, and thought that this land had its own unearthly beauty.

Miles slipped away. Buffy pressed a button on the dashboard and jarring music filled the air. William frowned. She fiddled with a dial and the music changed to a plaintive woman's voice accompanied by a guitar. "Better?" she asked. He nodded.

The ribbon of highway continued to flow like a river under their wheels. It was hypnotic and William began to doze with his head pressed against the glass.

"Water?" The blond girl's voice jerked him awake. She was poking him in the arm with a cold container. He gratefully took it, examining the label - Crystal Mountain - and the odd, clear material from which the bottle was fashioned. It was clear like glass, but flexible. Ingenious! He twisted the blue lid, removed it, sniffed at the liquid within and took a tentative sip - yes, it was definitely water. The icy fluid soothed his hot, parched throat. He had never tasted anything so cold and pure.

"Thank you." William belatedly remembered his manners. He recapped the bottle and offered it back to the girl.

"No problem." She took it and tossed it on the floor at their feet.

He settled back into position with his head resting on the window, and again drifted off to sleep....

In his dream there was a big man, almost half a head taller than he, with dark brown hair and eyes. Those eyes had a manic gleam as he said, "Let's have a little fun, Spike. We'll make it a vacation they'll never forget." He had tossed an arm around William's shoulders and together they walked onto the promenade deck. They were on a beautiful cruise ship, filled with glamorous couples having a mah-velous time. The year was 1928, money flowed like water, and this floating palace was a playground for the beautiful people - healthy, well-fed people who would make delectable meals.

Angelus knew how to throw a great party. He and his guests, a band of a dozen, had booked some of the most sumptuous suites on the ship. They had spent the first days at sea playing musical rooms - changing sex partners like underwear - and only sampling the humans sporadically so as not to alarm the flock. But tonight was to be the culmination of their orgiastic fantasies. A dress ball was to be held on the deck under the star-dappled sky. The vampires were going to fall like rain on the party-goers, who were held captive by the ocean itself. There was nowhere for them to run.

William salivated in anticipation of the frenzy of bloodlust they were about to partake in. It was a beautiful night at sea and life was good. Then the killing began......

"Damn!!" Buffy's cry awoke him, and he sat up abruptly, a pain shooting down from the crick in his neck. Smoke was pouring from under the hood of the car as it ground to a halt by the side of the road. "Damn! Damn! Damn! I hate cars!" She popped the hood and got out to check the damage. William climbed out of the car as well and stood beside her peering at the engine. They both surveyed the coils, and spark plugs, radiator, and fan belt with blank confusion, realizing they were hopelessly out of their depth.

The sun weighed on their heads like a physical presence. The temperature was well over 100 and there wasn't a leaf's-worth of shade in sight.

"This is not good," Buffy mumbled, looking around in all directions for a sign of civilization. "Why didn't I listen to Willow and get a cell phone?"

"I believe our only alternative is to start walking," William said, thoughtfully. "That vehicle is going to be like an oven soon, and there is certainly no shelter around here. You should have had Mr. Fairman make sure the thing ran correctly before we started out."

Buffy glowered at him and stomped over to the car to retrieve her sweatshirt, which she wound around her head like a turban, and several bottles of water that she tucked into the front of her shirt. "Load up," she snarled. "And let's get walking." Without another word, she stalked down the road that led, unbroken, to the horizon.

William quickly grabbed the remaining two bottles of water and a long, black leather coat he found in the back seat. He debated whether the coat would be more of a help or a hindrance - it's color would absorb heat, but it would shield his pale skin from the sun's rays - and he decided to wear it anyway. He tossed it over his head, like a protective blanket and set off after the girl, who was already almost a quarter mile ahead of him.

It took no more than fifteen minutes of walking for the pair to feel light- headed and dizzy from the extreme heat; only a half hour more to feel nauseated and an additional half hour to reach semi-delirious. Despite Slayer strength and stamina, Buffy was not exempt from the ravages of dehydration. She had planned to ration out the water, not knowing how long they might be out here, but with specks of darkness playing across her vision and a stagger in her step, she knew she must drink in order to be able to keep on walking. She glanced over her shoulder at 'William' who was struggling manfully on. Fuck him and his non-complaining, stiff-upper- lip British attitude. Buffy would have sat down and whined like a baby by now if he hadn't been there to see it. She had to smile at the tented coat, shielding his platinum head, so reminiscent of the times he had come bursting in to the Magic Box protected from instant burning death only by a thin cotton blanket. What an impulsive, danger-seeking maniac Spike had been, and how could he ever be replaced by this stuffy, conservative.....nancyboy.

Just then, almost as though reading her thoughts, William looked up from watching his feet trudge down the road. His piercing blue eyes gazing from under dark brows set Buffy's pulse racing, however, he wasn't looking at her - but past her.

"Is that a...a light up ahead?" he asked, pointing.

She turned around to see a glimmer of light glancing off.....something human-made! Hallelujah!

"It's probably a mirage," she answered, dryly.

"Well, maybe, but it looks rather like a signpost or building to me. Or maybe another automobile."

"Could be." She shrugged, refusing to let him see her hope.

Another mile brought them within sight of a filling station/motel - The Little Oasis, its sign proclaimed. Buffy stopped, waiting for William to catch up, and they both hobbled up to the smeary glass door together. He pulled it open for her to enter first, and Buffy rolled her eyes and passed into the air-conditioned splendor of the convenience store.

"Holy Jeez!" the skinny boy stocking chips by the front counter exclaimed. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Car. Broken." Buffy croaked, heading past him to the refrigerated section where she began pulling out bottles of water. She tossed one to William and drained hers in one long swallow. He dropped his coat on the floor and quickly guzzled his own life-giving drink. 'Almost as good as a long swig of blood on a hot summer night,' he thought idly, then mentally shook himself 'Where did THAT come from?'

Buffy wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Is there a phone? I have some people I've got to call."

"Um. The pay phone's broken. You could use the business phone, but you can't call long distance. The manager'd skin me," the boy said nervously. "And, uh, you have to pay for that water."

"I know," she snapped. "Just give me the friggin' phone." She pulled her wallet from her pocket and slapped a credit card on the counter. "Here. Okay?" She plastered on her most winning smile and gentled her tone. "Look, I'm sorry. It's been a horrendous day.....couple of days actually. I need to call home....and a mechanic. You aren't one by any chance?"

"No ma'am. I just work here. Nearest mechanic would be over in Jonesville, but he probably wouldn't come out. You'll have to call a tow. We got a real nice, clean motel if you need to spend the night," he added helpfully, offering her the grimy phone from behind the counter.

"Well, I'm sure it won't come to that," Buffy continued to smile. Forty minutes and four phone calls later the grim look was plastered on her face again. The tow truck would not be out until late in the evening, the mechanic wouldn't even begin to look at the car until tomorrow, her classes would be taken over by another instructor until she 'felt better', and Willow would happily have Dawn over for the night and tell Xander the status of his poor, broken Datsun. Buffy hadn't even begun to get into the subject of Spike. She told Willow the sketchiest of details about what had happened, promising to fill the story in when she saw everyone in person. Hanging up the phone after this final call, she was surprised to find it was already late afternoon.

"I guess we'll need some rooms after all," Buffy told the clerk.

"Room," he corrected. "There's only one. We just have four units. A couple of semi drivers are in two of 'em, and the third..well, it got kind of trashed by the last people who used it. It's closed for remodeling. So there's really just the one."

"Oh."

William, who had been studying the contents of the store with fascination all this time, came wandering over. "So, will you be able to get the automobile repaired?"

"Um, yes. But not 'til tomorrow. We'll have to spend the night here..and we have to share a room. They only have one."

"Oh." William echoed Buffy's sentiment. "I see. Very well, then."

"Why don't you pick out some juice and snacks, and I'll get microwave burritos for our dinner."

He nodded and began plucking all kinds of things from the shelves, returning to the checkout with arms laden, while Buffy quickly zapped a pair of burritos at the back of the store.

"You plan to eat all that?" she asked dryly when she saw the pile he had amassed.

"Is it too much? I didn't know what to get."

"No. It's fine. Just teasing." Buffy paid for their loot and their room. The clerk handed her a key.

"Room 3. The door sticks a little, but the air conditioning works real fine. Have a nice stay."

The interior of the room, when Buffy was finally able to force the door open, had the typical stale, musty, motel smell, but it was cool as promised. The carpet and drapes were faded and worn, the walls were painted cinderblock, and the twin beds were covered by fire engine red comforters. Paintings of soulful clowns loomed over the headboard of each bed.

"And I thought living on the Hellmouth was frightening," Buffy quipped, looking at the décor. "William, you go ahead and eat your burrito and whatever else you picked up. I'll take first shower." Without waiting for an answer she headed into the bathroom with the toiletries she had purchased.

William began to pick through the bag of food, sampling a little of everything and finding it all extremely salty or sweet. After a few minutes he heard the gushing sound of water from the little room adjacent to this tacky bedroom, and froze with his burrito halfway to his mouth. She was in that room. She was probably..naked in that room, just a few short steps away from where he sat with hot sauce dripping from his fingers onto his lap. She was likely lathering herself with soap about now. The image he'd had of her earlier in the day flashed through his mind again - flowing hair, flushed face gasping in ecstasy, panting breath , heaving breasts.. William gulped and carefully set the burrito down. Suddenly he wasn't at all hungry.

A little square device like the one in Sam Fairman's house, sat in a corner of the room. William went and poked at the buttons until sound blared from it and a grainy picture emerged on the screen. The loud voices of the moving figures drowned out some of the watery sounds from the other room, and he was quickly engrossed in the novelty of the miraculous contraption. A woman was telling about a big war somewhere, then a very jolly man began to talk about the weather. William sat entranced until he heard the bathroom door open behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder and froze, riveted by the sight of the petite girl wrapped in a towel and nothing else, her blond hair shining wetly, sleek as an otter.

"I'm washing my clothes out. They smell. Give me yours, too," she commanded. "I'll do the best I can with them in the sink, and they should dry out by morning."

"I...I.." William was still frozen and speechless. "What..?"

"Come ON. It's no biggie. You can wear a towel." She frowned at his horrified face, then modified her tone as though speaking to a recalcitrant child. "Spi.William, you've got nothing I haven't seen already, you know. I'm as familiar with your body as I am with my own. So will you give me your damn, stinky clothes and take a shower?!"

"We're....lovers?" he finally managed to whisper.

"Well, duh! Why do you think I'm so upset about all of this? I TOLD you we fell in love. Didn't you listen to any of my story? I even said we live together."

"I misunderstood. I thought, perhaps, a boarding house..." he trailed off. "But - but you have no wedding band...not even an engagement ring..."

Buffy smiled at his consternation. "Sex is a little more casual nowadays. Many couples live together without being married. It's accepted."

William was knocked speechless again. She had said S-E-X right there in front of him. He had no response to make to that, so he dumbly stumbled toward the steamy bathroom, and closing the door behind him, leaned against it breathing heavily. It was all just too, too much to take in. The sights, sounds, smells, concepts of this new century were mind boggling. He closed his eyes and begged God to let the nightmare end.

"Do you need me to show you how to use the shower," she called through the door right behind him, making him jump.

"N-no. I can sort it out," he replied, eyes flying open. It was then he caught sight of himself in the mirror. William stared at his unfamiliar reflection. It was him....yet not. For one thing his hair was practically white-blond and cut very short. His own blue eyes peered back at him, but without benefit of glasses, and strangely enough his vision seemed perfect. As a matter of fact, he had never seen so clearly or heard so acutely before. It must be a by-product of having been a.....William couldn't even complete that ridiculous thought.

His clothes, as he had already noted were an unrelieved black. William cautiously peeled of the T-shirt and gazed at his own naked torso. Bodies were not something one generally examined very closely in Victorian England, but he knew his enough to be sure that his stomach had never been this flat, his chest this hard and muscular. He looked amazingly strong and athletic. William had to give the....whatever....that had possessed him credit for building up this healthy body.

Unbidden, the memory of the morning, when Buffy had thrown herself onto his lap and covered him with kisses, sprang to mind. Well, no wonder the girl was attracted to him, he thought smugly. He felt his sexual apparatus begin to stir in the tight pants, and decided he had better start the cleaning process quickly before the girl started banging on the door again.

The shower was easy to figure out and it wasn't long before he was enjoying the perfect temperature and fine, hard spray of electrically pumped water. This had to be one of the best inventions he had encountered so far. The grime of the desert swirled away down the drain, and his muscles felt massaged and pampered. When he finally stepped out, and toweled himself dry, he noted that his clothes were gone and there were puddles of water all around the sink. He hadn't even heard the chit come into the room.

William wrapped the towel around his narrow hips, ran a hand through his damp curls, and steeled himself to face the girl in this embarrassing state of semi-nudity. Obviously he couldn't hide out in here all night, so he might as well get it over with. He opened the door and padded quietly into the room, where their wet clothes were hung randomly, and Buffy sat in the middle of one of the beds, surrounded by snacks and watching the TV. She glanced up at his entry and gave his body a long appreciative look that sent a fire straight to his loins. He stalked past her in shame and quickly pulled the coverlet off the other bed and swathed himself in it.

The young woman smiled at his indignation and held out a brightly colored bag toward him. "Cheese curls?" she asked.

"No thank you. I'm not very hungry," he lied. In truth he was starving, but for something more filling than the fare this inn provided.

"Suit yourself." She licked each of her orange tipped fingers delicately, and William, hypnotized by the sight of her little pink tongue, found his own tongue slowly traveling over his lips. Buffy's eyes met his just then and he quickly snapped his gaze away, concentrating fiercely on the television where a family of hand-drawn yellow people were saying rude things to each other. William stared at them blankly as the girl chuckled over their antics.

"God, Homer kills me!" she commented. A black rectangular object, like the one at Fairman's house, landed on the bed next to the shell-shocked man. "Here's the remote. Knock yourself out. You pick the next one."

William picked up the thing and began pressing numbers as image after image flashed across the screen in front of him - all of it noisy and incomprehensible. A sudden wave of desolation swept over him for his time and his people and a world he could understand. He tossed the remote back to Buffy.

"Please just make it be silent. I'd like to rest now." He curled up on his side facing away from her, head on the lumpy pillow, and gratefully closed his eyes, shutting out this foreign place.

Buffy muted the set, gathered up the food and stuffed it back in the bag, turned off the light, went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her orange tinted hands, then sat on her lonely bed watching a happy movie about people in love as tears rolled down her cheeks. Every now and then she would cast a glance over at the lump in the next bed and consider whether she dared make an overture toward him. She missed him desperately, and he was right there.....but not. God, just to have him hold her would feel so good - so normal. If he didn't speak she could pretend he was still Spike. Sighing, Buffy turned off the TV and stretched hear weary body under the covers. She was asleep in less than two minutes.

*********** William was dreaming. He was climbing a tall tower. There was something vital he had to do. The wind whipped around him, shaking the tower, but he continued to climb. At the top was a platform and a young girl with long brown hair. She was tied up and crying as a man moved menacingly toward her. This was what William must do. This was the purpose of his existence. He had to save the girl. He began to run toward her with that single goal in mind, then abruptly he was falling through space. Falling, and he didn't even know how it happened. It was so damn fast. All he knew was that he had failed, and because of him, someone he loved was going to die. He woke with a cry of anguish and sat up, gasping for breath.

"Spike! What is it?" Buffy jumped out of bed and tripped over her shoes, landing beside William with a curse. "Are you okay?" She pulled herself up next to him, groping for him in the dark. She held him in her arms as he continued to shake, her hand running comfortingly up and down his smoothly muscled back. "What is it? Do you hurt somewhere?"

He managed to shake his head where it rested on her shoulder, his mouth pressing against her soft flesh. "Just a dream," he muttered. "Nightmare." He clutched her slim body against him with all his might, reveling in her warmth and solidity. She was here, truly here, and safe. That was all that mattered.

Buffy crooned meaningless endearments while she continued to stroke his back, his hair, and kiss his neck. William's healthy young body responded automatically to the presence of this soft, sweet female in his bed. He might not know her, but he knew what to do with her, and, on some level, she did feel very familiar and 'right' in his arms. He pulled away from her slightly so they were face to face. They were both mere shadows in the dark, but he could see her eyes, glittering in the shaft of light that leaked through the blinds, and the contours of her face, barely lit but discernible. Her lips moved and throat contracted as she swallowed nervously. William touched her mouth with the tip of a finger. It was as petal-soft as he had imagined. He replaced finger with lips and their mouths blended as though one.

William the Bloody Awful Poet had read much about romance in his life. The ideal worship of a knight for his fair lady, and the rhapsodic ramblings of poets were all he knew of the dealings between women and men. The reality was quite different. More basic and earthy than his imaginings, the probing tongue and taste of her saliva invaded him and left him shaken to the core. This was a real woman. Her skin beneath his hands covered flesh and bone and was hot with the coursing blood beneath it. Her little sounds of pleasure and contentment were more eloquent than the most poetic phrases he had ever read. And when the cheap motel towel fell away from her breasts and he was able to freely cup one in his hand as he kissed the hollow of her throat, he finally understood that no poet could ever execute the reality of making love on paper. It had to be experienced.

She ran her small hand up his chest and he shivered at the touch. Then she lightly caressed the side of his face and he leaned into her palm, feeling a rush of joy. But when she moved that hand down to his waist, loosening the fabric still wound around him, and when she skimmed it over his hip bone and down toward his crotch.....that's when electric shocks began to shimmer outward from the center of his being. The more contact their bodies had, the more he needed, until it wasn't enough to be wrapped around her, skin to skin - he had to be inside her as well. And very shortly, he was.

Afterward, as they lay spooned together, resting, William kissed the back of her neck and marveled again at the porcelain delicacy of her skin, which masked muscles like iron. She was little, yet so strong and demanding. He hoped his fumbling lovemaking skills had been adequate. If not, he decided as he traced a hand over her shoulder, he would have to get better fast, because there was no way he was going to lose this miracle of a girl. He may have won her heart as a vampire, but he was going to keep it as a man.

William drifted off into a dreamless slumber for the rest of the night. ***********

Buffy woke clasped in Spike's arms and smiled. Another new day to spend together. Get Dawn off to school, make time for a little interlude, then go to work at a job she really enjoyed. And at the end of the day.....more Spike. Always Spike to look forward to, and slaying, of course. She had to admit now that she enjoyed the hunt and kill probably more than was morally right. But she no longer worried about whether that made her a 'bad person', it was her calling after all. The man behind her shifted and breathed and suddenly Buffy was wide awake and aware. This was not her Spike, not her beloved enemy, but another man in his body. And they had made love.

She quickly slipped out of his arms and the bed, grabbed her still-damp clothes and wiggled into them. With a backward glance at his sleeping form, she left the room to go use the phone and make sure their vehicle had been towed to the right place and was being worked on immediately - there was no way she wanted to be stuck in this motel another night. She grabbed a pack of donuts and quart of orange juice and steeled herself to face William again as she entered their room.

Waking at the sound, Will rolled over to face Buffy and bestow a sleepy, angelic smile on her. His hair tufted out at all angles, and he looked so boyish and sweet her heart melted. Again she reminded herself it wasn't his fault he wasn't Spike. She smiled back and held up her bag of breakfast. "More sugary goodness for ya."

Spi-William sat up and patted the bed next to him. Buffy sat down, shyly, her mouth running a mile a minute in between bites of donut. She decided her nerves were shot and she'd probably have some kind of breakdown soon.

"I called the garage, and they have to replace the ......something something. I think it started with a C. It's gonna be a couple hundred bucks, but they should have it done by late afternoon. I certainly hope so. I've got to get home and see about Dawn and get back to work. I called Willow again and told her we'll try to make it back today. Everyone is so anxious to see you. Dawn says 'hello' and she's glad you're all right. Xander says he's never lending me his car again no matter what the emergency. I don't know what we're going to do to pass the day here in the middle of the desert. I'd say we could take a walk, but I think we did enough of that yesterday. Too bad they don't have a pool. Do you think......"

He stopped her with a powdered sugar kiss. Buffy choked on the piece of donut she was swallowing. She pulled away from him and quickly drank some orange juice to help it down.

"Sorry," he said, patting her back ineffectively. He looked so awkward and young, Buffy felt there couldn't be even a trace of her swaggering vamp left in there. She smiled at him kindly, then spoke the hard words she had to say.

"Look.....William......I know we shared a - a moment last night. It was very nice, too. But I don't know you and you don't know me, whatever our bodies might tell us. You, as you are now, are a stranger to me, and I don't sleep with strangers. What we did.... can't happen again. Not now."

"Oh." A flush spread across William's pale face. Of course, he should have known better than to think a beautiful woman like this would want him. It was the story of his life. Even an undead monster could get a woman to fall in love with him, but, oh no, not William.

He rose from the bed and headed toward the bathroom without another word.

*************** The day inched by in strained awkwardness. Buffy couldn't stand to be alone in the room with William so they hung around the convenience store talking to Robbie, the skinny clerk. By noon, Buffy had him sweet-talked into giving them a ride to the garage in Jonesville when his shift ended, and by 5:00 they had paid the mechanic's exorbitant fee and were on their way back to Sunnydale.

Trapped together in the car for several hours, Buffy tried to fill the silence with music. She fiddled with the radio, changing channels until she heard a snatch of one of Spike's favorite tunes. She glanced up to see if there was any recognition in William's face, and found him cringing at the wall of noise pouring from the speakers. She sighed and flicked it off. They drove in silence the rest of the long way home.

For his part, William had a thousand questions he wanted to ask, both about their personal life and the world in general, but he was afraid to breach the wall of silence that had built between them. Consequently, he knew no more about his new life when they pulled up in front of the house on Revello Drive than he had on waking up the morning before at Sam Fairman's. He stepped out of the car with trepidation at the thought of meeting more 21st century strangers who would expect him to be someone he wasn't.

A young girl with long brown hair came bursting out of the house, followed more slowly by a redhead. Dawn. Willow. He mentally matched them to the brief descriptions Buffy had supplied. The young woman's face meant nothing to him, but for one brief second a flutter of recognition stirred at the sight of Dawn's happy smile. 'Sister' -his heart told him. When she threw her arms around him, he returned the hug.

"Hey, Bit," the name slipped naturally from his mouth. Buffy looked up at him sharply.

Dawn pulled back and searched his face. "You know me? Buffy said you had amnesia."

"Something like that," he replied. "I know YOU anyway," he added reassuringly. "You're Dawn."

"That's right," she said. "And you're........?"

"William," he shrugged. "That's who I am. That's what I remember."

Dawn nodded, thinking deeply, then the bright smile lit her face again and she linked her arm through his, drawing him toward the house. "That's enough, then." It was her turn to sound reassuring.

As Buffy trailed after them, she wondered how her little sister had grown so much wiser and accepting than she.

Willow came toward them then and formally stretched out her hand to shake Spike's.

"I'm Willow," she said simply. "Pleased to meet you, William."

'This is just getting more bizarre by the second' Buffy thought. 'Am I the only one disturbed by having a stranger in my boyfriend's body?'

William politely shook hands with the witch, then the little group moved on into the house.

He looked with interest at the dwelling he shared with the two sisters. Dawn led him through all the rooms, looking up now and then to see if any of it touched his memory.

"And this is my room," she tossed open the door to show an unmade bed and a floor ankle deep in dirty laundry. "And this....." she crossed the hall to her mother's old room. "is where you and Buffy sleep."

William felt his skin grow hot as he looked at the wide bed, and unsuccessfully willed himself not to blush as he remembered everything but sleeping that the pair of them had done the previous night. He turned quickly from the room.

"Are you hungry?" Dawn asked, smoothly changing the subject at the sight of his face. "We can go down to the kitchen and I'll make you something."

"Yes, that would be lovely," he answered.

"You sound like Giles," she laughed. "I think he'd like you better as William."

When they reached the kitchen, Buffy and Willow broke off the whispered discussion they were having.

"Call me if you need anything, Buff," Willow said. "I'm supposed to meet Tara for a date, but you can call me on the cell, okay? Oh, and Xander said he and Anya will be by to pick up his car later tonight, but don't wait up for them. Just get some rest, and we'll see you tomorrow." She added to William, "And, um, nice meeting you."

As she moved around the kitchen, heating leftover lasagna and tossing a salad, Dawn prattled on about the Scoobies, her school friends, teachers, the town, demons, movies, and facts from history that occurred to her. Buffy went to wash up, leaving William in Dawn's capable hands.

"So then Janice said, in a real snotty tone, 'That's right I did!' I about died laughing! Oh, did I mention anything about space travel yet? Yeah. There's satellites up there and men have landed on the moon and there's space shuttles going up all the time. Anyway, Ms. Burns said, 'You can just march right on down to the principal's office.' and Janice said, 'Fine'....You want to cut this up, please?" She handed William a tomato and a sharp knife. "And I thought she was going to send me too for laughing, but she only said......The cutting board is under that counter." Dawn interrupted her flow to point William in the right direction. "Oops, almost forgot. Clem stopped by yesterday evening to see you. I told him what was going on. And he says 'hello' and to come see him when you get back if you remember who he is."

Buffy returned just then and they were soon seated at the table, ready to eat.

William was pleasantly surprised at the taste of the Italian food. He'd never eaten anything like it. Soon he and Dawn were happily consuming, while Buffy picked at her plate. Suddenly she put down her fork and practically glared at William.

"How come you remember Dawn?" she demanded.

"I just do. She's Dawn," he shrugged.

"What do you know about her?" Buffy persisted.

"She's the Key. I have to protect her." The words slipped out without William having the slightest idea what they meant.

"Not any more. Glory's long gone. What else do you know?"

"There are still dangers. There's always danger here. I take care of Dawn."

"That's right," Buffy nodded. "You always do. Do you know HOW you take care of her?"

"I - I fight things," William spoke hesitantly, still uncertain where these words and the accompanying images were coming from.

"How can you know all that and not know me!" Buffy exploded. "What all are you remembering?"

"It's not me. These aren't my memories. They aren't my words. I don't KNOW what I'm remembering. It's like watching someone else's dream." William faltered.

"But the memories are in there," Dawn said encouragingly. "That's a good thing, isn't it Buffy."

"Yes," she answered. 'But why doesn't he have memories of ME!' her mind cried.

"It'll all come back to you, Spike," Dawn continued enthusiastically. "When you go out and start slaying things with Buffy, I bet all your past will come flooding back."

"Slaying....?" William sounded doubtful.

"It's what you do! Help Buffy kill things and hang out with us. That's your life." Dawn speared a large forkful of lasagna.

"I see," he said faintly.

Buffy studied his face. "I think William's more of a writer than a fighter, Dawnie. We may have to find him a new line of work."

"No. Not at all. If freeing the world of evil is good enough for a vampire, it's good enough for me. I'm sure I can still aid you in your endeavor," William said briskly.

'Endeavor'? Dawn mouthed at Buffy.

"Just...er....give me a stake and point me in the right direction," he added.

"I'm getting a headache. I think it's time for bed," Buffy muttered, standing up and clearing away her untouched plate. "William, you can sleep in the spare room. Come upstairs when you're finished and I'll show it to you."

Laying in bed that night, William thought about his family and how long ago they had passed from this world. He thought about the time he'd left behind and the new world he had awoken in with all its technological advances and moral ambiguities. And he thought about Buffy, the girl sleeping just down the hall from him - so near he felt he could hear her breathing and the warmth of her skin right through the walls that separated them. He sighed and rolled over, trying to get to sleep, but her presence invaded his consciousness and his desire for her kept him awake far into the night.

When he finally slept he dreamed of a woman with long dark hair and dreamy eyes. She was dancing in the moonlight and beckoning him to join her. As he reached an arm around her waist, her features changed, twisted into a demon visage, and when she opened her mouth to kiss him, sharp fangs protruded between scarlet lips. William woke with a shudder to bright morning light streaming over his bed and another day to face in the 21st century.

"Good morning, Sunshine," Dawn chorused, as he shuffled sleepily into the kitchen. "Buffy's already left for work. She has a Saturday morning aerobics class, but I'm free to show you the town today. We can go over to the Magic Box and hang out with everybody for awhile, then just walk around town and see if anything strikes you as familiar - maybe go to your crypt. That should bring back some fond memories."

"All right," William agreed, sitting down to the table and accepting the cup of tea Dawn offered.

"Also, Buffy's going to call Giles and see if he has any input. You remember Giles? Stuffy British guy, glasses, talks like a book? Nope. I can see you're drawing a blank. Well, that's okay. I'm sure he'd like to forget you, too. Joke!!" she said, seeing the puzzled look on William's face. "Giles is Buffy's Watcher. Did she explain all about being the Slayer and everything? Anyway, he wasn't happy last month when she finally called and told him about you two being together. Vampire plus Slayer equals Bad. So he should be really happy about your, uh, change."

Dawn continued to prattle on as they ate, cleaned up, and dressed to go. Yes, he could hear her still talking to herself across the hall from the bedroom where he found a dresser full of black clothes to wear. Actually, there was a blue shirt in the mix, so he put that on, combed his hair, and went to join the chattering teenager.

"So then Xander walked right out of the wedding. Can you believe it? Anya was devastated. Who wouldn't be! She ran away for awhile. Nobody knew where she went. She still hasn't told us. Then after she came back, she wouldn't speak to Xander or listen to anything he had to say. But he just kept after her in that persistent way he has, and finally he must have said the right thing, cause she forgave him and they got back together. Needless to say, they haven't made any more wedding plans yet."

They walked down the sidewalk companionably, the sun resting warm on their shoulders. William thought it was a nice neighborhood even if every blessed thing in it looked foreign and inconceivable to him. For instance, what was the siding and roofing on all the houses made of? How did that grass-cutting apparatus the boy in the next yard was using work? And what was the metal thing the boy wore over his head like ear muffs? William lost track of what Dawn was saying as he pondered the world around him. She tugged his arm gently to get his attention.

"Geez, Spike, you don't know how weird it is to see you in daylight," she was saying. "That's something I thought I'd never see. What does it feel like? Does it feel strange?"

"No, I... It's just the sun, and it feels like a hot day."

"You really don't remember being a vampire, do you?" she asked sadly.

William hesitated. For some reason, he wanted to be truthful with this girl. She made it easier to talk about things than the volatile Buffy. "I've been having.....dreams. At least I think they're dreams, but they seem almost like memories."

"Tell me," Dawn encouraged.

And he did, leaving out the parts about Buffy in various sexual positions. The violent memories of a vampire were bad enough to be sharing with a young girl. He concluded with the story of the rampage aboard the cruise ship.

"Yep. That's Spike all right," she said. "He was always trying to shake me up with tales of his wild years. He said he didn't want me to forget what he really was. He loved me and Buffy, but he wasn't tame, you know?" She paused, remembering her friend. "And what about you, William? What are you like? Who are you?"

William stopped walking. A bird called out from the tree above them. The drone of the lawn mower drifted through the air. Heat waves shimmered off the sidewalk. He thought long and hard about the girl's question and finally gave her the only answer he could. "I don't know. I don't know anymore."

"Well, that's okay," Dawn reassured. "Heck, it's only your third day as a human again. You'll figure it out with time. Come on. Let's go reintroduce you to the others. I didn't wake you guys up last night when Xander and Anya came for the car, but they are both real anxious to see you."

As a matter of fact, Xander was beside himself about Spike's new humanity. He had made such a business out of hating the blond vamp for so long, that he didn't know how to react to the quiet, sedate William. With no adversary to sling barbs and wisecracks at, Xander was uncharacteristically silent. Anya more than made up for his silence with a running commentary about her own adjustment after losing her demon powers. She expounded on what an enigma human beings were - never saying what they truly meant, and how she had discovered the joys of capitalism and Xander and never regretted losing her past again - except for when he left her at the altar....Then the pair was off and running on who had been most at fault in the wedding fiasco and its aftermath.

Dawn and William slipped out of the Magic Box and headed downtown to shop.

"Hey, Billy, let's get you a new shirt. My treat. I've got a job bagging groceries a couple days a week so I can afford it now. No more shoplifting for Dawn. You pick out something you like, that fits your style. Then we'll go for lunch anywhere you want. And after lunch, we can meet Buffy at the Fitness Center."

"That's very generous of you, Dawn," William thanked her politely. "Anything but black would do nicely." He grinned and she returned the smile, grabbing his arm and pulling him along to the department store.

William's inclination would have been to head straight for the suits, but Dawn guided him to sportswear and then to the racks of discounted shirts that were in her price range. He flipped through the garishly colored clothes and came up with light gray, dark gray, and white shirts to try on. Dawn rolled her eyes and shook her head at his monochromatic choices - some things never changed. She led him back to the dressing room then wandered over to the jewelry department while she waited.

As he slipped on the ready-made clothes and stared at his reflection in the mirror, William remembered his tailor in London with sad affection. He felt totally indifferent about all of the garments so he picked one at random and went off to find Dawn. She wasn't at the jewelry counter where she had said she'd be.....nor in women's clothes, perfume, audio, or any other section of the store. He wandered up and down the aisles searching for the brown haired girl, as a sick feeling began to build in the pit of his stomach.

Finally he discovered the service counter and asked for help in locating his 'sister'. The woman behind the counter paged Dawn, he could hear her name being broadcast all over the store, "Please meet your party at Customer Service," then he waited for her to respond. Minutes passed. People came and went. William sat on a bench by the counter and waited. And waited....

"Could you just call her again, please?" he entreated almost an hour later.

"Sir, I've already tried twice. Maybe she left the store. Excuse me." The harried woman went off to finish a return for another customer.

William swallowed a sudden urge to leap over the counter, grab the woman, and rip her throat out. Customer Bloody Service indeed! She was right, though, Dawn was obviously not in the store anymore. God only knew where she had got to. He wandered out onto the street and began to search store to store.

***************

Buffy looked at her watch, compared it to the clock, shifted her gym bag on her shoulder, and sighed deeply. Trust Dawn to be late! She had told her specifically to be here by one. Obviously Dawn had lost track of time. She and .....William....were probably enjoying a great lunch somewhere, while Buffy stood here starving. She'd give them twenty more minutes then...... The door to the Fitness Center opened and William entered....alone.

"What happened," Buffy demanded, terrified at the look on his face.

"I'm sorry. I've looked everywhere for her. I don't know what else to do. She said, 'Try these on,' and I did, and when I came out she was just gone. I'm sorry."

"Where? How long ago?" the Slayer asked succinctly.

"It's been, about two hours. At that big store. I don't remember the name. The customer service woman called for her several times. Then I looked in all the shops between there and here."

"How did you find me?"

William pointed outside. "Saw the sign."

"All right." Buffy drew a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves and think through this. "Where there any signs of a struggle? Did anyone say they'd seen something unusual?"

"No. No signs of struggle. And I didn't think to ask anyone, but none of the customers looked alarmed in any way. It took me awhile to realize she wasn't in any of the other departments and to get the lady to call for her. Then I just sat and waited for a long while for her to come back. I wasted so much time!!" William berated himself. "I didn't think..."

"Doesn't matter. Don't worry about it," Buffy responded. "Okay. I want you to take me back every step of the way through your day. If she was taken in broad daylight, it couldn't be a vampire. Maybe a demon or even just some perv....."

A brick crashed through the plate glass window of the Fitness Center and landed practically at Buffy's feet. A brick with a note tied to it. She stared at it for a moment, then stooped to pick it up saying distractedly, "This is fairly unoriginal."

She unwrapped the message and sighed as she read: Slayer. We have your sister, but will trade her for YOU. Come to McKinley Park near the Civil War Memorial at midnight - no weapons - no backup - to make the exchange.

"It just never ends," she complained absently to William. "My life sucks." And she handed him the note.

************* "For the hundredth time....you read the note, too.....it said "no backup". Besides I can't be worrying about protecting you and saving Dawn at the same time," the Slayer insisted.

"And for the hundredth time I'm telling you I can help. I'll stay way back. They'll never know I'm there," William regarded Buffy's stubborn face and tried another tack. "Look. Even if they actually free her and take you, someone has to be there to take care of her and get her home." 'And someone has to watch your back because you can't handle this alone,' he mentally added.

Buffy appeared to consider this, then grudgingly nodded. "All right. You can bring a bag of weapons, too. Just in case. But you're staying so far back even you won't know you're there." The last statement made absolutely no sense whatsoever, but Buffy was way beyond witty repartee at this point. She was more into the realm of panic and despair. Her little sister snatched....again. How many times did this make? Let's see....Harmony, Glory.....assorted demons.....had to be at least a half dozen.

When she shook herself from her reverie, William was already loading the knapsack with weapons from the chest. He had remembered where they were stored she registered, but her mind was quickly on to more pressing issues, such as how to arm herself unobtrusively. There was no way she was marching into a den of....whatever....unprotected. That wouldn't do her or Dawn any good. Also, she was considering whether to tell the rest of the Scoobies what had happened. But that would only worry them and they might attempt some stupid rescue plan that would only endanger them all. Bad enough that poncy William over there was going along.

However, watching him swing a sword around with one hand and heft an axe in the other, Buffy thought he looked a little more useful - more Spikelike - than she could have hoped. Good.

She finally settled on strapping a small knife far up the inside of her thigh, and twisting her hair into a bun held in place by two wicked sharp chopsticks. Now there was nothing to do but wait. Damn villains and their midnight deadlines!

By now it was late afternoon, but there were still many hours to pass. Buffy drew a map of the park and showed William where the meeting point was and where he should hide himself. Then William convinced her to eat something to keep up her strength.

They both managed to choke down an omelet and some fruit. Still it was only 8 p.m.

By 8:30 Buffy stopped pacing and said, "I think we should go early. Scope the place out and maybe I'll be able to surprise them somehow. Or we could shake some information out of Willy. Maybe he's heard somebody planning something. We just can't go in there totally unarmed - with no idea what we're dealing with at all!"

William noted that 'I' had turned into 'we' and smiled. "I could go ahead to the park so I'd be in place early, while you question this 'Willy' person," he suggested.

Buffy looked at him closely. "You wouldn't go barging ahead and muck things up?"

"Definitely not. I'm very cautious by nature."

"All right then. Let's do it. Just remember, you don't make any kind of move until Dawn is free and clear, which you should be able to see from your vantage on the hill. Then you come down and take her home and let me deal with the rest of it. No heroics!"

"Got it. No heroics," he confirmed.

He shouldered the weapons bag, and Buffy tossed on her jacket. They exchanged one long look. William wanted to step forward and kiss her and hold her tight, but she was out the door and headed the opposite way across town before he could make a move. Fine then, he would just have to make sure they both survived this ordeal intact so he could claim that kiss later.

*************** By the time Will reached the park it was late evening and only couples and a few groups of noisy, flirting teens were cruising around the paths. He hiked unnoticed up the hill to the designated spot and hid his weapons bag under a bush. Drawing out a sharp blade, he tested the edge against his finger and instantly blood began welling up. William licked his lips at the sight of the red ooze, then frowned and suppressed the unbidden images of carnage and mayhem that had erupted in his mind.

On the other hand, considering the foe he was about to face, maybe it would be a good idea to draw on those demon memories that still seemed to be lodged somewhere in his brain. As though lifting the lid off Pandora's box, William gently probed under the rocks of his mind to see what evil grubs he could stir up. He leaned against a tree, eyes closed, and let the images sweep over him in waves until he was sick. And every memory was centered around one thing: killing, killing, and killing. That was something he knew how to do very well.

Fine. He would take advantage of the demon's knowledge and use it toward good. The hard part would be finding Dawn. The easy part would be killing every last creature that was holding her hostage and saving her. William swept down the hill in a swirl of black leather. ************** Buffy had Willy, the bartender and part-time snitch, pinned against the wall with his arm drawn painfully up his back.

"I don't have time for twenty questions," she snarled. "If you've heard anything, and I mean ANYTHING, about a kidnap plan, I want to hear it right now!"

"Okay! Jeez, don't break my arm!" he whined. "The other night there were a couple a guys sittin' in the back booth talkin'. And I might have heard them mention the Slayer's sister. But people are always makin' plans against you so I didn't pay much mind. These guys always got some scheme."

"What'd they look like? Who were they?" Buffy pressed, pulling his arm even tighter.

"Ow! Couple of Tagas demons. They ain't too bright. And the guy tellin'em what to do was a vampire named Butch."

"Butch?! A vampire named 'Butch' masterminded it? Well, this couldn't be too hard. Where do I find'em?"

"Right behind you, Slayer," a gravelly voice said, then Buffy felt a sharp blow to the head and blackness descended.

****************

William continued to patrol the park, skulking at the edge of the treeline like a shadow and watching everything that passed through. Having seen nothing more unusual than a drug deal and a couple making love behind a bush, he had just decided to withdraw to his spot on the hill when a couple of Tagas demons carrying a suspiciously large bundle came into view. The thing looked like a roll of carpet draped over one of the creature's shoulders, but the lumpiness of it suggested unconscious body. The ex- vampire followed at a cautious distance.

The hulking, hairy humanoids walked through the park to the very hill he had been located on and entered the wide opening of a storm drain, stooping and dragging their burden behind them. William waited until he could no longer hear their shuffling and muttering, then slipped into the tunnel behind them.

"Butch is gonna be pleased about this," he faintly heard one of the kidnappers say. "We got the Slayer without a fight AND we got the sister!"

"Talk about being in the right place at the right time," his companion agreed. "We'll have to take care of that jabbering Willy later, though. He woulda give everything away. Damn good thing we happened in when we did."

"Think Butch'll give us a taste, too?"

"I doubt it. He's a sonuvabitch....." The talk trailed off into a mutter that was covered by the increasing sound of rushing water from somewhere farther up the tunnel. William continued to scuttle along in a half crouch through the narrow tube until he reached a wide open area where rungs climbed up to a grate in the street and several branches of the tunnel system forked off into different directions. In the echoing chamber it was hard to tell from which tunnel the kidnappers' voices drifted. William froze and listened intently, then began to follow the diminishing sounds down the widest of the three choices.

After what felt like hours to his aching back, but was probably only twenty minutes, he saw a dim light ahead and heard loud voices. William crept as close to the drain's entrance as he dared and peered into the lair where Buffy and Dawn were held captive. There seemed to be more underground chambers in this town than anyplace he'd ever been. With that thought, memories of Paris in 1902 crowded in on him. As the relative youngster in the group, it had fallen on him to bring food back to Angelus and Co. when they were too wasted on absinthe to bother to go out and hunt for themselves. He felt a sudden pang of sympathy for the Tagas minions who likely wouldn't get a drop and most probably would be killed for their efforts on their leader's behalf now that they had fulfilled their function. William mentally shook himself. When would these twisted demon memories leave him be!

He leaned forward to survey the room, the dim light casting sharp highlights and shadows over his angular features. Dawn, tied and terrified, was huddled in one corner of the room. Buffy, still rolled in a piece of material, was laying in the center of the room as the vampire and his flunkies circled her. William sat, still as death, calculating the risks to the victims as he planned and discarded various rescue scenarios.

"So this is the famous Slayer." Butch kicked the bundle on the floor and a soft groan arose. "Doesn't seem like much. And you two just bopped her once on the head and she went down? Amazing how legends build up around the most ordinary people. Seems to me this girl just had an incredible run of good luck and now it's run out."

The two demons chuckled supportively, then the shorter one nudged his partner encouraging him to ask for their payment.

"Uh....sir. We were just wondering about.....you know....our share. Maybe we could have the girl?" He nodded toward Dawn, licking his lips hungrily.

"Perhaps. I'll get back to you on that," their boss hedged. "Meanwhile, unwrap the Slayer. Let's have a look at her."

The minions obeyed, untying and unrolling the fabric to reveal the delicate blond girl nestled within. Blood had run from the wound on her head, matting her hair and trickling over her face. Her skin was pale, eyes closed, and breathing ragged, but William was not deceived. He could FEEL her from across the room, coiled like a spring, just waiting for the right moment to strike. In response his body tensed for battle too.

The foolish vampire leaned over his intended victim, deeply breathing the intoxicating scent of her blood. "Ah, this is going to be good....." His words were cut off by a punch to the throat and a kick that took his legs out from under him. He fell forward onto the Slayer and she grappled with his beefy form.

William froze for a moment as memories were triggered and instinct kicked in, then the single-minded imperative rose like a shining beacon in his mind; Save Dawn. That's what he was made to do - protect the girl at all costs.

He catapulted from the opening of the tunnel, smoothly impaling the first of the Tagas demons on his sword. Before he could free the blade, however, the second was upon him, attacking from behind. William smashed his head back into the creature's face, momentarily blinding it, as he struggled to pull his weapon from the other body. He glanced up to see Dawn's wide eyes watching the fight, and Buffy still grappling with the vampire on the floor. Then the blade drew free and he swung around to face his second opponent.

Suddenly not liking the odds, the Tagas abruptly turned tail and dove for the tunnel. William grabbed an ankle and dragged it back into the room, hacking furiously all the while. When he was satisfied the thing wouldn't rise up again, he turned his attention to Buffy and her combatant punching and kicking each other mercilessly. Butch may have been an upstart vampire, but he was tenacious, and the Slayer was injured and tired. William stepped forward to lend a hand.

With a roar he pulled the vamp off her, hauled him up and spun him around. He battered his face and body viciously. As Butch tried to regroup from this unexpected attack from behind, William simply grabbed his head and twisted. The vamp's neck made a sickening snap and he exploded into dust. Suddenly the only sounds in the room were Buffy and William's panting breaths and Dawn's quiet sniffling.

"That was almost anti-climatic," Buffy managed to quip, as William reached a hand down to help her to her feet. Their hands clasped, as they had so many times after a battle and he pulled her up. In that instant, heaving and sweating, hands joined and eyes locked, a surge of recognition broke over William, but before he could process the feeling, Buffy's leg gave way and she started to fall.

"Damn! I think I sprained my ankle kicking that little shit," she gasped. He helped her ease back down to the floor.

"I'm okay. Get Dawn," she ordered, and, as always, her word was his command. He quickly crossed the room and cut the ropes binding the girl and tore the gag from her mouth. She collapsed into his arms, crying.

"You alright, Niblet?" he asked, holding her and stroking her hair, as she nodded and whimpered. "Everything's going to be fine," he crooned soothingly. "Let's get you home." He glanced over at the Slayer, who was pulling herself back to her feet with the aide of the wall. He lifted one eyebrow questioningly and she nodded back at him.

"I don't think it's broken," she croaked. "I'll make it. I'm just a little stiff.....and embarrassed. Rescued by a pansy Englishman!" She smiled, teasingly.

"Can you walk, sweetheart," William questioned Dawn. "Cause it looks like we're going to have to help your sis."

"Sure. I'm fine," Dawn pulled herself together and put on a brave front. She always told everyone she could handle herself under pressure if they just gave her a chance - now was the time to prove it. 'Be cool, Dawn.' her mind urged.

"Let us help you, Buffy. You're hurt!" The teenager reveled in fussing over her older sister, checking out the swollen ankle, and supporting her with an arm around her shoulders.

William could easily have lifted the petite girl himself and carried her out, but he recognized Dawn's need to be needed. He had certainly felt it often enough himself.

So he explored the chamber looking for an alternate exit that didn't entail scrambling up a drain pipe with an injured girl. He found a much shorter way that brought them straight to the cemetery and soon the three were out in the cool night air headed for home.

As they walked Buffy along, supporting her on either side, William realized that he suddenly knew these two girls - REALLY knew them - and that they were the most important thing in his life. They made up his life. They were his to protect - his to love.

As though a floodgate had burst, memories began to flow over him in waves.

He remembered the first time he had ever seen Buffy, dancing at the Bronze, and how excited she had made him - how eager he had been to challenge her. He remembered the times they had battled and verbally cut one another until both were psychically bleeding. Their first kiss came back to him in all its unexpected wonder. He remembered his hostile relationships with all her friends, and the calm acceptance Joyce had always shown him. And he remembered Dawn; little sister, confidante, playmate, cherished one. Her trusting gaze could make him feel like the hero he never was.

His memories of life before Sunnydale had returned, too, but held no more weight or substance than a wisp of dream. All the violent, unspeakable acts he and his companions had committed as they rampaged across the planet were like pictures in a book and held no connection to William. They were ugly memories and couldn't be changed, but they were faded by time and distance. It was as though his life only began recently, in this town, with this woman by his side - and that's all he need know.

He embraced the memory of their love-making in all its permutations from violence to tenderness. He stole a sideways glance at Buffy now, her mouth drawn tight in pain, face pale, and felt such an overwhelming joy in her presence that tears sprang to his eyes. He wanted to share his new-old knowledge with her, but the time wasn't right. Time enough later to let her know that her Spike was back.

************* Two weeks later -

A bedroom, lit by the rosy glow of a decorative lamp. A bed, rumpled covers thrown back. Two naked forms entwined, stretched out, luxuriating in their closeness. Legs snaked around each other. Hands, palm to palm, fingers playing together, stroking, teasing.

"Stop me if you've heard this one. There's this blond who goes to buy a car...."

"Stop."

Murmured voices, a deep vibrating chuckle and answering woman's laugh. Wet, smacking sounds and little sighs of contentment.

"Okay, how 'bout this, I just got it off the internet today...."

"Stop."

"Slay-er." A sing-song complaint.

"Will-iam." A giggle, quickly muffled by a conquering mouth. "Mmph."

A rustle of movement and creak of the bed frame. More wet kisses and quiet "mmmmm's" building in intensity.

"Oooh not again. You wear me out."

"What happened to your Super Slayer Strength? I'm just a poor, weak mortal. You should be the one tiring me out!"

More giggles and caresses, skin on skin, sliding and smacking. Panting breaths. Grunts of pleasure. Rapturous moans.

A curve of throat, cut of cheekbone, flutter of eyelash, tangle of hair.

"Ah, ah, ah....." Shifting shadows on the wall. Reflected images in a mirror. Two figures coming together and separating again and again.

"Ah, ah...yessss.....like that......"

Arching. Plunging. Engulfing. Devouring.

Two become one.

A growl. A cry. Deep sighs. And peace.

Another night on Revello Drive in Sunnydale, USA.

End