Title: Two Weeks With William
Author: Edith Campbell
Section: 1
Relationship: Spike/Buffy
Disclaimer: Alas, they all belong to the mighty Joss, except for
the ones I made up to use in Spike's memories (ie. his sister).
Those are mine. :)
Distribution: I don't mind, but please ask.
Rating: PG 15 for language
Spoilers: Up to 'The Gift' Please note that I wrote this before Bargaining. :) Major 'Fool For Love' spoilers.
Feedback: Oh please! Yesterdays_Child4@y...
Summary: While fighting a pack of vampires with Buffy, Spike gets
knocked unconscious. When he wakes up, Buffy is presented with a
slight problem: Spike thinks its 1880. In order to repay Spike for
attempting to save Dawn, Buffy brings him to Giles, who determines
that he is suffering from a temporary amnesia. Will the gang be able
to accept William? What will happen when Spike comes 'back'?

********************************************************
"I'll bet you a round of drinks at the Bronze that you get your ass
kicked worse than I do tonight," Buffy told Spike as she tightened
the grip on her stake and stepped into the cemetary.

It was a relatively quiet night, and the Slayer and the vampire had
made it through one other cemetary pretty much unscathed. She had
only had to stake two freshly risen vampires, and that wasn't too
much of a bother. She could handle that, and Spike hadn't even had
to intervene. Stepping in was something that he had to do less and
less these days, as Buffy was regaining the strength she'd lost in
her time spent... dead, but he still accompanied her, and she had to
admit to herself that she didn't mind all that much. He was still
the same old pain in the ass that he used to be before the Glory
showdown, but since her 'rebirth', he'd toned it down a little, and
they seemed to have a sort of a truce. Buffy, if pressed, would call
them friends.

Spike stepped neatly around a headstone, crowding into the Slayer's
space, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his duster.

"I'll see that round of drinks," he answered, his English accent
giving the words a nice clip, "And raise it to a round of Guinesses."

"Deal," Buffy replied, sticking her hand out to confirm it.

Spike ignored it blatantly. He cocked his scarred eyebrow at her and
spit out, "And I wan' a pack of fags. I'm fresh out."

Buffy scrunched up her nose and gave an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, but
only cause I know I'll win." With that, she gave him an almighty
hair flip and stalked off in front of him.

The vampire rolled his eyes and took the liberty of flipping off her
back. If somebody had told him a scant few months ago that he'd be
patrolling with the Slayer for free, he would laughed in their face,
and reminded them of the tactless incident where he'd had Buffy
chained to a bleedin' wall. If that same person had told him the
very same thing a few weeks ago, he would have furiously pointed out
that she was dead and buried. Then, he probably would have eaten
that person for being an insensitive sod, chip be damned. This
thought made him sigh, and he looked away from where he had been
looking, to fix his gaze pointedly on Buffy's back. Looking at her
made him shiver. He tried to remind himself that she'd been back for
a month, and he should be used to it now, but really... He couldn't
help it. He was always so relieved to see her alive that it almost
made him giddy. Her return had brought him back from an emotional
hell. Spike shuddered, not enjoying the memories of the months
without her. He'd brooded and sulked enough to make his poofter of a
grandsire proud. He shook his head slightly and wished that he
hadn't rushed over to Buffy's quite so quickly. Maybe he could have
stopped at the drug store. He really could use a cigarette about
now.

"Bloody hell, Slayer. Running throw the cemetary isn't exactly going
to scare out any baddies!" he growled, hurrying to catch up.

Buffy was about to open her mouth to reply, when a group of scruffy
looking vampires stepped out from behind a mausoleum. She sent Spike
a look that clearly read 'Oh yeah?' and faced their oponents.

"Did you boys come all this way here just to play with little ol'
me?" she baited, sizing them up. There were only four of them, and
judging by the rather panicked looks on their faces, they were
nothing that she and Spike couldn't handle. She, as a matter of
fact, could probably handle them quite nicely on her own, but she
could tell by the way Spike was shifting his weight that he was just
jonesing for a fight. She tossed him a stake, and the fight was on.

Three of the four turned their attention strictly on Buffy, which
both annoyed and amused her. She heard Spike's muttered oath about
it and had to laugh. If her unappropriately timed giggle phased the
vampires, they didn't let her see it, and in mere moments, two of the
three were dust. The third soon joined the dusty pile on the
ground.

Spike, who had long ago dusted his one challenger, clapped mockingly
at the Slayer.

"Good show, pet," he announced, dryly. Buffy raised an eyebrow,
trying to judge whether or not Spike was being serious. His
continuation proved that he wasn't.

"You're a bit rusty. Coulda done them in half the time, if I had
been given the chance," he theorized, "But those fledglings obviously
don't realize the merits of staking William the Bloody. Not that
they ever would, of course."

Buffy rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to retaliate, but before
she could even get out a peep, Spike had crumbled at her feet.
Confused, she looked up, and saw a smug looking vampire standing over
the peroxide blond one.

"I know the merits of staking William the Bloody!" this vampire
declared.

Buffy groaned, and waited for the vampire that she and Spike had
carelessly missed to acknowledge her. She was certain he hadn't seen
her, judging by the way he was smirking and muttering on about how he
would finally rid the world of the "traitor". Finally, she could
handle it no longer.

"Ummm... hi?" she offered, waving a stake in his direction.
Suddenly, he looked alarmed.

"You're- you're the-"

"Slayer?" She cocked her head, and nodded. The vampire decided that
staking Spike could wait, and, without a glance at his unconscious
victim, turned and ran. Buffy sighed and gave chase. When she
returned, Spike was beginning to stir.

"Good, you're awake!" she called, "I wasn't really looking forward to
having to drag your sorry ass home. Guess I won the bet, huh? I
knew I would."

Spike sat up slowly. The world was spinning, and he was confused.
He glanced around him, and felt a growing sense of alarm when he
realized he was in a cemetary. He didn't remember going there. He
also didn't recall the pretty blonde girl who was strutting towards
him, a semi-annoyed smile plastered on her face.

Buffy was sweetly oblivious to Spike's uncomfortable alarm. Merrily
thinking about that round of drinks, she grabbed his arm and pulled
him to his feet. Hastily, she checked him over. That was when she
noticed the odd look on his face. He looked like he was in some kind
of pain, which she supposed was natural considering the fact that
moments before, he'd been unconscious.

"Spike?" she asked, uncertainly.

The vampire blinked blankly at her and replied, "Excuse me, miss, but
are you talking to me?"

Buffy dropped Spike's arm and took a step back, surprised. His
accent had changed, she noted dumbly. His voice on the whole was
softer, and his style of speaking had instantly become more refined.

She didn't know what else to do, so she laughed. "Funny, who else
would I be talking to? That pile of dust over there?" She pointed
in the direction of their former opponents and arched an eyebrow.
When he didn't answer her, she added, "What the hell is up with you?"

He blinked, and looked around again, slower this time. If Buffy
hadn't known Spike, she would have assumed that he was hopelessly
lost. He stared at nothing for a long time, and when he finally
turned to the petite blonde in front of him, he asked shakily, "Would
you mind telling me... that is, do you know..."

Was Spike stuttering? The whole situation was beginning to give
Buffy the wiggins.

"Spike, whatever you're playing at, why don't you drop it right now?
Before I... stake you or something. This isn't funny."

"Spike?" he echoed, looking over his shoulder for whoever that might
be. When he saw that nobody was standing there, he turned back to
the girl, and gave her a bit of a smile.

Buffy swallowed hard. This was all starting to annoy her. Patience
with Spike had never been her strong point.

Sarcastically, she said, "Yeah, you know. That's your name?"

Spike laughed then, and the sound of it surprised Buffy. It wasn't
his normal laugh, she noted. This one was almost apologetic, and it
was much quieter.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but you must be mistaken. My name isn't Spike.
It's William Wyndham." With that, he held out his hand.

Buffy was too shocked to take it. With an unshakable sense of
trepidation, she repeated, "William Wyndham?"

As though he thought it might help, he said, "Yes, William Ashley
Wyndham, the fifth."

The woman was quite obviously slow, decided William Ashley Wyndham
the fifth. She was staring at him, mouth agape, and he didn't quite
know what to make of it. She was certainly the oddest woman he'd
ever met. Here she was, standing in a graveyard, brandishing a piece
of pointed wood, and referring to him as Spike. He decided to help
her out a bit, deciding that maybe she could assist him in turn. He
had a funny feeling that he wasn't where he should be.

"And you are..." he prodded.

"Buffy Summers," she replied, grabbing his hand and shaking it. When
she realized what she'd done, she dropped it immediately and stepped
back further.

"It's alright, Buffy," she thought, "It's totally normal to be
standing in a graveyard introducing yourself to Spike. Introducing
yourself to Spike??"

"Spike!" she cried, angry now, "Would you just lay off this 'I am
William Ashley Wyndham, Lord of blah blah blah' because I'm really
not amused here!" She punched his arm to prove this.

William made a noise that was stuck between offense and disbelief,
and took another look at the girl. He noticed then that she was
wearing pants and a shirt that left absolutely nothing to the
imagination. Gasping, he took off his duster and shoved it in her
direction.

"Good heavens, woman! What on earth are you wearing? Is that really
the custom with Americans these days? You can see..." He trailed
off and looked infinately embarrassed.

Buffy took the duster, partly because she'd always secretly wanted to
wear it, and partly because Spike... or William... or whoever the
hell Spike thought he was, was looking honestly alarmed at her
appearance.

"Thank you? I've never had a-"

"What am I wearing?" he gasped, looking at his own clothes. He
looked back up at Buffy, pure panic marring his face. "What's going
on? Where the blazes am I? And what in the bloody hell is THAT!?"

He pointed at the road and paled considerably. Buffy turned around,
and bit back a smile when she saw the car that had driven past. All
thoughts of smiling vanished however, when she saw how frightened
William looked.

"It's... it's... a carriage," she finished, lamely.

He didn't believe her, she could tell that much. "I've never seen a
carriage like that. There weren't any horses."

"Oh, there were," she laughed, uneasily, "You just... um... you just
couldn't see them. Went by too fast, you must have missed them."

"Must have missed them," he muttered, shaking his head.

Although Buffy harboured very few doubts in her mind, she asked
weakly, "William... Mr. Wyndham, would you mind telling me the date?"

William looked up at her and shook his head again, obviously still in
a state of disbelief. "Of course. It's January 15, 1880."

Damn. Buffy processed this slowly, and tried to think of something
to tell him. He was gazing at her, wide-eyed with confusion.

"Miss," he began, softly, "may I be so bold as to ask what is
happening?"

Buffy laughed dryly, and took hold of his arm again. "Couldn't tell
you. But I have a friend who can."

With that, she pulled him out of the cemetary, and onto a back road,
hoping to avoid any further car incidents. She hoped fervently that
Giles would know what to do.