Title: Two Weeks With William
Author: Edith Campbell
Section: 4
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 let me know where it's being
distributed. :)
Rating: PG 15 for language
Spoilers: Up to 'The Gift' Please note that Buffy is back. How?
Use your imagination. :) Major 'Fool For Love' spoilers.
Feedback: Oh please! Yesterdays_Child4@y... Thank you for all the
lovely comments last time. :) You're all too nice!!
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'?
******************************************************************
"William!" Buffy shouted, in her best drill sergeant voice. She'd
used the tone on his more evil half more times than she cared to
count. Good ol' intimidation... which would have worked better if
Spike had actually been intimidated.
Her sharp bark didn't phase William either, she grudgingly noticed,
stepping into the guestroom without knocking. The innocent vampire
was curled in a ball on the bed deep in sleep (which wasn't a great
surprise, as it was day) oblivious to her commands. This annoyed her.
"William," she urged, softer this time.
He turned slightly at the sound of his name, facing Buffy. He hadn't
woken up, and the Slayer was amused to discover that he made a slight
wheezing sound during slumber. His look of utter peace warmed her,
and she felt the unbidden urge to crawl into bed next to him and
cuddle right up. She shook it off with a sigh, marched over, and
gave him a light shake.
"Aww, Spikey, you're so cute when you sleep!" she cooed, with only
the barest hint of sarcasm. Then she added, "Wake up. I've got your
stuff."
William shook her hand off, and murmured in a voice heavy laden with
sleep, "Go 'way, Kitty. There's nothing under your bleedin' bed.
Thought we had a good chat about that with Mum."
Buffy arched an eyebrow and chuckled. "Ummm... I'm not Kitty?"
He groaned, and threw his hand above his head. He lay there
perfectly still for a moment, before cracking open his eyes. Once
again, Buffy experienced an odd warming sensation in the pit of her
stomach that was way, way too close to affection for her likings.
"Mornin' sunshine!" she announced, chipperly.
William's eyes widened in embarrassment, and he sat up so quickly
that it made Buffy jump.
"Miss Summers! I'm sorry... I... I didn't mean to fall asleep and-"
Oh, thought the Slayer, if vampires could blush! "Hey, no worries.
And what's with this Miss Summers stuff? I'm Buffy."
"Oh, yes of course, Miss Sum- Buffy." He smiled sheepishly at her,
before glancing down to make sure he wasn't in his nightclothes. He
was very relieved to find that he was still wearing the same hideous
black outfit.
"Your things." She pointed at the box and waited for his eyes to
show some sort of recognition.
He gasped. "That's Mum's jewelry box! I can't believe that she let
me take that." He chuckled, a deep, low grumble from the back of his
throat.
Spike had kept his mother's jewelry box? The warm feeling was there
again, and this time Buffy, who had formed a huge attachment with
anything belonging to her mother since her death, didn't try to
push it away.
She smiled as she watched him rifle through the box, 'ooh'ing
and 'ahh'ing in appreciation as he saw what he had 'packed'. A few
things, he clearly did not recognize and Buffy felt it safe to assume
that he'd collected them from between now (or January of 1880, Buffy
reminded herself) to the time he'd been turned.
Suddenly more curious about the history of her favourite enemy who
had quite clearly not always been bad, the Slayer asked, "Can I ask
you some questions?"
William looked up shyly from his box and nodded. "I filled out the
form for Mr. Giles." He pointed at it sitting on the counter, and
Buffy scooped it up.
His writing was neater than Buffy had imagined it would be, and she
wondered if Spike still wrote like that. It was the most beautifully
shaped pensmanship that she'd ever seen. Quickly, she read the list
of Giles' standard questions.
'Questions for (scratched out Spike) William:
NAME: William Ashley Wyndham
DOB: 14 September, 1853
LOCATION: London, England
FATHER and DOB/DOD: William Grey Wyndham (15 December, 1823 - 07
June, 1864)
MOTHER and DOB/DOD: Emily Ashley (21 February 1835)
SIBLING(s): Katherine Emily Wyndham (12 August, 1863)'
Buffy rolled her eyes, and wondered if Giles could have been any more
basic. She didn't want this. She wanted the dirt.
"So... how old are you?" she drawled, before kicking herself for
asking a question that was right up Giles' lane.
"Six and twenty," he replied, distractedly.
"Six an- 26. Making you the second oldest Scooby. You're still the
second oldest Scooby!" She laughed, before realizing that she had
just referred to Spike as a Scooby, without the slightest concern.
She wasn't being careful.
William glanced at her as though she were off her bird, and looked as
though he were about to make a retort. He bit it back, however, and
Buffy was oddly disappointed. It had only been two days since she'd
seen 'Spike' and she already missed the verbal sparring.
"I wanna know about your life," she said, impatiently, "So, spill."
"Spill?" he echoed, "What do you wish to know?"
"I dunno, everything!" She made herself comfortable on the bed,
stretching out her legs and resting her head on her arms. This all
made William uncomfortable, and he tried desperately to remind
himself of Cecily Addams.
"Right. Born in London, lived there almost all my life. Have a
sister, and a mum. There you have it. The end." He raised an
eyebrow at her cockily.
There was the Spike she knew and loved to hate! She grinned and
thought in her best Spike accent, "Right. You want to learn all about
how I bested the Slayers, and you want to learn fast. All right then:
We fought, I won, the end, pay up."
"I wouldn't pay you for that," she said, earning another confused
glance, "C'mon- I want details. Where you were when..." She wasn't
getting anywhere. With a groan, she tacked on, "Tell me about your
sister. You thought I was her for a minute- wanted her to know there
was nothing under her bed."
"Want to know about Kitty, eh?" He smiled, warmly. "She's great, the
little bit."
Buffy's eyes widened at the mention of Dawn's nickname. It was on
the tip of her tongue to comment on it, but then she remembered that
this Spike hadn't even met Dawn.
"What was she so afraid of?" she pried.
"Monsters and things of the like. Made Mum feel real guilty," he
sighed, "On the account of her growing up without a father and all."
He narrowed his eyes, surprised at how easy conversation flowed with
the pretty blonde. He looked at her suspiciously, wondering how much
of Kitty's problem he could trust with her. Finally, because he was
lonely and talking about his sister cheered him up, he decided to
tell all.
"She's afraid of vampires," he said so softly that Buffy had to
strain to hear him.
"Vampires!" Buffy exclaimed, trying and failing to hide her ironic
surprise.
William sighed, and sympathy clouded his eyes. "One night when she
was six, she had a... dream that there was a vampire in her room.
Said he locked her in her closet and sucked her blood."
"What happened?"
"She told us the vampire tried and failed to open her bedroom window,
and caught on fire when he couldn't get out before the night ended.
She has quite the imagination." William chuckled, uneasily wishing
that he hadn't aired his sister's dirty laundry.
The Slayer felt a huge ball of empathy rise within her. She knew
that nobody would ever have believed the girl, and she wished that
she had been there to stake that vamp good and proper.
"William, that's awful," she said, laying her hand on his arm in
comforting support.
He looked at it and swallowed, before awkwardly spitting out, "She
has me to protect her."
Deciding to change the subject, Buffy asked, "How old's she? I have
a sister who's fourteen."
"She's almost seventeen. Mum is very excited to find her a husband.
Nobody in the ton is safe!" He laughed earnestly that time. "Kitty
and I are very close."
"How old were you when your father died?"
William looked up suddenly, pain and hurt flickering in his eyes.
Buffy cringed. She definitely earned the award for tacky
conversation starters.
"If you don't wanna tell me I'd-"
"I was almost eleven. Kitty was one. Mum was devastated and it was
awful."
"But you protected them," Buffy said, knowledge flooding her.
"I tried, anyway. My father made me promise to, before he died. But
Mum wouldn't have it." He shook his head. "She didn't want me
growing up without a father, so she sent me off to live with her
brother, who had five sons."
Buffy cringed, feeling bitter towards Mrs. Wyndham. The young Spike
wouldn't have felt anything but scared and abandoned. William's
voice had thickened, and she could tell his memories at his uncle's
house were not happy ones.
"You don't have to tell me, William."
William glanced at her, his eyes steely. He WANTED to tell her, more
than he had ever wanted to tell anybody anything. During his brief
stay in America, she had been nothing but nice to him, and he felt
the strongest and strangest connection with her. It was as though he
had known her before, long ago.
"My uncle was a hard man," he said, emotionlessly, "And his sons were
no better. They made my life hell- excuse my language- for five
years. The only thing I learned there was that I was the poorest
excuse for a man they'd ever seen. Oh, and I learned how to fight a
little, although I don't do so. Don't care for it, you see.
I left when I was almost sixteen, and have stayed with Mum and Kitty
ever since."
Something in Buffy hardened, and she murmured, "You're man enough for
me."
William shrugged, looked embarrassed and awkward, and bent his head.
A moment later, he reached for his box, and withdrew an old, tattered
book.
"What's that?" the Slayer asked, leaning forward to see.
Spike's past counterpart made a choking noise and sputtered. "T-
this? It's my... p-poems."
Buffy arched her eyebrow, confused at his sudden transformation into
the bumbling, unsure man again. Then she realized what he'd said.
"You write poems? That's too rich!" And then, before she could stop
herself, she laughed. Spike the Poet.
He looked away, hurt, and tried to put his book back into his box
unseen.
"I don't write them often," he lied, quietly, "It's just something I
like to do."
"Can I read them?" Buffy asked, sitting her knees.
"You want to read them??" He looked as though he were about to choke
on his tongue.
"Well... yeah."
"They're not very good," he warned, warily.
"C'mon, just lemme."
Begrudgingly and cautiously, he handed her his treasure.
"Please..." his voice trailed off, as he was not sure exactly what he
wanted to say.
Buffy stood up, clutching the book.
"I will be back, with a full review!"
With that, she turned and left the room, leaving an embarrassed
William to scowl at the closed door.
Author: Edith Campbell
Section: 4
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 let me know where it's being
distributed. :)
Rating: PG 15 for language
Spoilers: Up to 'The Gift' Please note that Buffy is back. How?
Use your imagination. :) Major 'Fool For Love' spoilers.
Feedback: Oh please! Yesterdays_Child4@y... Thank you for all the
lovely comments last time. :) You're all too nice!!
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'?
******************************************************************
"William!" Buffy shouted, in her best drill sergeant voice. She'd
used the tone on his more evil half more times than she cared to
count. Good ol' intimidation... which would have worked better if
Spike had actually been intimidated.
Her sharp bark didn't phase William either, she grudgingly noticed,
stepping into the guestroom without knocking. The innocent vampire
was curled in a ball on the bed deep in sleep (which wasn't a great
surprise, as it was day) oblivious to her commands. This annoyed her.
"William," she urged, softer this time.
He turned slightly at the sound of his name, facing Buffy. He hadn't
woken up, and the Slayer was amused to discover that he made a slight
wheezing sound during slumber. His look of utter peace warmed her,
and she felt the unbidden urge to crawl into bed next to him and
cuddle right up. She shook it off with a sigh, marched over, and
gave him a light shake.
"Aww, Spikey, you're so cute when you sleep!" she cooed, with only
the barest hint of sarcasm. Then she added, "Wake up. I've got your
stuff."
William shook her hand off, and murmured in a voice heavy laden with
sleep, "Go 'way, Kitty. There's nothing under your bleedin' bed.
Thought we had a good chat about that with Mum."
Buffy arched an eyebrow and chuckled. "Ummm... I'm not Kitty?"
He groaned, and threw his hand above his head. He lay there
perfectly still for a moment, before cracking open his eyes. Once
again, Buffy experienced an odd warming sensation in the pit of her
stomach that was way, way too close to affection for her likings.
"Mornin' sunshine!" she announced, chipperly.
William's eyes widened in embarrassment, and he sat up so quickly
that it made Buffy jump.
"Miss Summers! I'm sorry... I... I didn't mean to fall asleep and-"
Oh, thought the Slayer, if vampires could blush! "Hey, no worries.
And what's with this Miss Summers stuff? I'm Buffy."
"Oh, yes of course, Miss Sum- Buffy." He smiled sheepishly at her,
before glancing down to make sure he wasn't in his nightclothes. He
was very relieved to find that he was still wearing the same hideous
black outfit.
"Your things." She pointed at the box and waited for his eyes to
show some sort of recognition.
He gasped. "That's Mum's jewelry box! I can't believe that she let
me take that." He chuckled, a deep, low grumble from the back of his
throat.
Spike had kept his mother's jewelry box? The warm feeling was there
again, and this time Buffy, who had formed a huge attachment with
anything belonging to her mother since her death, didn't try to
push it away.
She smiled as she watched him rifle through the box, 'ooh'ing
and 'ahh'ing in appreciation as he saw what he had 'packed'. A few
things, he clearly did not recognize and Buffy felt it safe to assume
that he'd collected them from between now (or January of 1880, Buffy
reminded herself) to the time he'd been turned.
Suddenly more curious about the history of her favourite enemy who
had quite clearly not always been bad, the Slayer asked, "Can I ask
you some questions?"
William looked up shyly from his box and nodded. "I filled out the
form for Mr. Giles." He pointed at it sitting on the counter, and
Buffy scooped it up.
His writing was neater than Buffy had imagined it would be, and she
wondered if Spike still wrote like that. It was the most beautifully
shaped pensmanship that she'd ever seen. Quickly, she read the list
of Giles' standard questions.
'Questions for (scratched out Spike) William:
NAME: William Ashley Wyndham
DOB: 14 September, 1853
LOCATION: London, England
FATHER and DOB/DOD: William Grey Wyndham (15 December, 1823 - 07
June, 1864)
MOTHER and DOB/DOD: Emily Ashley (21 February 1835)
SIBLING(s): Katherine Emily Wyndham (12 August, 1863)'
Buffy rolled her eyes, and wondered if Giles could have been any more
basic. She didn't want this. She wanted the dirt.
"So... how old are you?" she drawled, before kicking herself for
asking a question that was right up Giles' lane.
"Six and twenty," he replied, distractedly.
"Six an- 26. Making you the second oldest Scooby. You're still the
second oldest Scooby!" She laughed, before realizing that she had
just referred to Spike as a Scooby, without the slightest concern.
She wasn't being careful.
William glanced at her as though she were off her bird, and looked as
though he were about to make a retort. He bit it back, however, and
Buffy was oddly disappointed. It had only been two days since she'd
seen 'Spike' and she already missed the verbal sparring.
"I wanna know about your life," she said, impatiently, "So, spill."
"Spill?" he echoed, "What do you wish to know?"
"I dunno, everything!" She made herself comfortable on the bed,
stretching out her legs and resting her head on her arms. This all
made William uncomfortable, and he tried desperately to remind
himself of Cecily Addams.
"Right. Born in London, lived there almost all my life. Have a
sister, and a mum. There you have it. The end." He raised an
eyebrow at her cockily.
There was the Spike she knew and loved to hate! She grinned and
thought in her best Spike accent, "Right. You want to learn all about
how I bested the Slayers, and you want to learn fast. All right then:
We fought, I won, the end, pay up."
"I wouldn't pay you for that," she said, earning another confused
glance, "C'mon- I want details. Where you were when..." She wasn't
getting anywhere. With a groan, she tacked on, "Tell me about your
sister. You thought I was her for a minute- wanted her to know there
was nothing under her bed."
"Want to know about Kitty, eh?" He smiled, warmly. "She's great, the
little bit."
Buffy's eyes widened at the mention of Dawn's nickname. It was on
the tip of her tongue to comment on it, but then she remembered that
this Spike hadn't even met Dawn.
"What was she so afraid of?" she pried.
"Monsters and things of the like. Made Mum feel real guilty," he
sighed, "On the account of her growing up without a father and all."
He narrowed his eyes, surprised at how easy conversation flowed with
the pretty blonde. He looked at her suspiciously, wondering how much
of Kitty's problem he could trust with her. Finally, because he was
lonely and talking about his sister cheered him up, he decided to
tell all.
"She's afraid of vampires," he said so softly that Buffy had to
strain to hear him.
"Vampires!" Buffy exclaimed, trying and failing to hide her ironic
surprise.
William sighed, and sympathy clouded his eyes. "One night when she
was six, she had a... dream that there was a vampire in her room.
Said he locked her in her closet and sucked her blood."
"What happened?"
"She told us the vampire tried and failed to open her bedroom window,
and caught on fire when he couldn't get out before the night ended.
She has quite the imagination." William chuckled, uneasily wishing
that he hadn't aired his sister's dirty laundry.
The Slayer felt a huge ball of empathy rise within her. She knew
that nobody would ever have believed the girl, and she wished that
she had been there to stake that vamp good and proper.
"William, that's awful," she said, laying her hand on his arm in
comforting support.
He looked at it and swallowed, before awkwardly spitting out, "She
has me to protect her."
Deciding to change the subject, Buffy asked, "How old's she? I have
a sister who's fourteen."
"She's almost seventeen. Mum is very excited to find her a husband.
Nobody in the ton is safe!" He laughed earnestly that time. "Kitty
and I are very close."
"How old were you when your father died?"
William looked up suddenly, pain and hurt flickering in his eyes.
Buffy cringed. She definitely earned the award for tacky
conversation starters.
"If you don't wanna tell me I'd-"
"I was almost eleven. Kitty was one. Mum was devastated and it was
awful."
"But you protected them," Buffy said, knowledge flooding her.
"I tried, anyway. My father made me promise to, before he died. But
Mum wouldn't have it." He shook his head. "She didn't want me
growing up without a father, so she sent me off to live with her
brother, who had five sons."
Buffy cringed, feeling bitter towards Mrs. Wyndham. The young Spike
wouldn't have felt anything but scared and abandoned. William's
voice had thickened, and she could tell his memories at his uncle's
house were not happy ones.
"You don't have to tell me, William."
William glanced at her, his eyes steely. He WANTED to tell her, more
than he had ever wanted to tell anybody anything. During his brief
stay in America, she had been nothing but nice to him, and he felt
the strongest and strangest connection with her. It was as though he
had known her before, long ago.
"My uncle was a hard man," he said, emotionlessly, "And his sons were
no better. They made my life hell- excuse my language- for five
years. The only thing I learned there was that I was the poorest
excuse for a man they'd ever seen. Oh, and I learned how to fight a
little, although I don't do so. Don't care for it, you see.
I left when I was almost sixteen, and have stayed with Mum and Kitty
ever since."
Something in Buffy hardened, and she murmured, "You're man enough for
me."
William shrugged, looked embarrassed and awkward, and bent his head.
A moment later, he reached for his box, and withdrew an old, tattered
book.
"What's that?" the Slayer asked, leaning forward to see.
Spike's past counterpart made a choking noise and sputtered. "T-
this? It's my... p-poems."
Buffy arched her eyebrow, confused at his sudden transformation into
the bumbling, unsure man again. Then she realized what he'd said.
"You write poems? That's too rich!" And then, before she could stop
herself, she laughed. Spike the Poet.
He looked away, hurt, and tried to put his book back into his box
unseen.
"I don't write them often," he lied, quietly, "It's just something I
like to do."
"Can I read them?" Buffy asked, sitting her knees.
"You want to read them??" He looked as though he were about to choke
on his tongue.
"Well... yeah."
"They're not very good," he warned, warily.
"C'mon, just lemme."
Begrudgingly and cautiously, he handed her his treasure.
"Please..." his voice trailed off, as he was not sure exactly what he
wanted to say.
Buffy stood up, clutching the book.
"I will be back, with a full review!"
With that, she turned and left the room, leaving an embarrassed
William to scowl at the closed door.
