Title: Two Weeks With William
Author: Edith Campbell
Section: 6
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'?
**Author's Notes: Ummm... okay, this part at the beginning, the ===
are used to represent different sequences. In my head, it's like the
huge scan of events at the beginning of 'The Gift'. Please assume
that everything that happened between each of the == William has
remembered, and I just didn't feel like typing out most of the 2nd
season. :)

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

====
The beautiful dark haired girl in his head was swaying.
Hypnotically, she rocked back and forth, massaging her temples, and
mumbling.

"I can't see her. The Slayer. I can't see." Suddenly, her head
snapped up, and she looked him straight in the eye. Her voice was
slightly pleading and airy when she added, "It's dark where she is.
Kill her. Kill her, Spike. Kill her for me?"

He smiled lewdly at her, and shrugged, as if the task she asked him
to complete was no harder than merely squashing a bug. "It's done,
baby."

"Kill her for princess?" Her eyes were innocently wide, and she
needed reassurance.

He gave it to her. "I'll chop her into messes."

Visibly, his evil princess relaxed. "You are my sweet... my little
Spike."

====
She was a better fighter than he had bargained on. Watching from the
shadows, he saw her easily hold off his minions until her whelp of a
had fetched a stake from inside. She was good, he acknowledged. But
he was confident that she wasn't THAT good. After all, he WAS
William the Bloody...

Mockingly, he began to clap. The Slayer whipped her head around,
scowling. She was still on the defensive, he noted.

"Nice work, love."

The blonde looked confused and very annoyed. "Who are you?"

"You'll find out Saturday," he strung her along, wishing he'd grabbed
a bloody cigarette instead of clapping.

She sounded boredly indifferent when she said, "What happens
Saturday?"

He took care to make his tone ooze sensuality. "I kill you."

====

He wasn't going to look at her. He was ashamed of what he had
become. He hated being helpless.

"Come on, love. You need to eat something to keep your strength up.
Now, open for Mummy..."

He turned to look at her then, suddenly furious. Loudly, he
roared, "I won't have you feeding me like a child, Dru!"

"Why not? She already bathes you, carries you around, and changes you
like a child."

Oh, great. As though his night wasn't bad enough already...

He watched his lover's face light up as she scurried to greet her
sire. It took all the restraint he'd learned over his years in the
night to not give into the pure rage and jealousy that coursed
through him, begging him to do their bidding.

"My Angel! Where have you been? The sun is almost up, and it can be
so hurtful. We were worried."

"No, we weren't," he retorted, angrily.

Dru sent him a look, and turned back to Angel. "You must forgive
Spike. He's just a bit testy tonight. Doesn't get out much anymore."

His grandsire sneered at him. "Well, maybe next time I'll bring you
with me, Spike. Might be handy to have you along if I ever need a
really good parking space."

That was it. That, to Spike, was the straw that broke the soddin'
camel's back. He shouted, "Have you forgotten that you're a bloody
guest in my bloody home?!"

"And as a guest, if there's anything I can do for you... any
responsibility I can assume while you spin your wheels..." He paused to
leer at Dru. "...anything I'm not already doing, that is..."

Spike fought for control. He hated his bloody grandsire, he hated
Dru, he hated his chair, and he DESPISED that bitch of a blonde
Slayer who would just not let him finish her off.

====
William sat up in bed, panting wildly. He kicked off the covers in
one smooth move, flew to the middle of the room, and crouched in a
defensive fighting position that he had no idea he even knew. Rage
coursed through his veins. He was so angry at that... bitch that he
was dizzy with it. Never before in his life had he been that
passionately furious... that enraged... He suddenly reminded himself
of his uncle.

Wide-eyed, he relaxed his stance, and looked around the room. It was
empty, save for him, and he felt surprised, despite himself. What
had he expected? The hypnotically beautiful woman who called herself
Drusilla to be standing around, hanging off that white-blond man-
hanging off of Spike? He shivered at the memory of what he knew that
man had felt for her. HE had felt it, almost as clearly as if those
were his own feelings. He had been consumed by her. She was his
world, his very existence.

And then there was Buffy. Panic filled him. He had wanted to kill
her! He had more than wanted to kill her. He had been obsessed with
it! Buffy! The sweet, wonderful woman who had kissed him last
night. He smiled softly, at the memory, despite it all.

"Calm down, William," he snapped, annoyed, "Get your bloody wits
together. It wasn't as though that was YOU. It was... Spike?"

Visibly disturbed, he sat down and shook his head. He couldn't stay
here much longer. The place was making him go daft. What he needed
was a good stroll through the streets of London, and a strong pint of
ale. Or two. Right. All he had to do was get away from Sunnydale,
and book himself passage on the next ship leaving for England.

"Easy enough," he assured himself, although he was doubtful. He had
never traveled alone before, but he doubted that it could be that
hard. His father had done it.

Quickly, he formulated the plan. He would write ahead to Kitty, and
request that she send a coach to the docks once he knew when he'd
arrive. Then, he would send an apology letter to Pinkertons, and
explain that he really could take care of himself. Perhaps he'd even
write to Buffy. Maybe once things had settled down, she could join
him in London and... He felt his cheeks flame.

Good. All he needed was a map, and he'd be on his way.

"Oh, bloody hell!" he declared, heading for the bedroom door.

He was just about to open it, when somebody else did. He nearly
smacked into the petite Slayer, and she jumped back in surprise.

"I brought you breakfast," she said, holding out a steaming cup of...
something for him to take. She made a point of not looking at him,
as the memory of their sweet little kiss was all too fresh in her
mind.

He took it hesitantly, peered inside, and almost grimaced when he saw
what it was. Willow had given him a cup of the clear liquid
yesterday, and he'd sipped it nicely, although inside he was
gagging. Whatever it was had an awful, coppery taste, and it took
all of his manners not to spit it out. As it was, it had taken a lot
of effort for him to say, "Mmm, this is bloody good, Miss Rosenberg!"
The redhead had chuckled and muttered something about 'bloody good'
being a fantastic pun. He thought she'd taken the god-awful stuff
with her.

"Bottoms up!" he said, with false enthusiasm. In one gulp, he
drained the cup, and handed it back to Buffy. "What is that stuff?"

Somehow, Buffy didn't think telling him it was magically disguised
blood would go over well. "Umm... a drink. All vitaminy and mmm!"

"Oh," he replied lamely, thinking it was the exact opposite of 'mmm'
indeed.

Buffy laughed at him and his poor attempt to hide his disgust.
Impulsively, she grabbed his arm.

"C'mon downstairs. My sister and I are just eating now. You can
come too."

"A-are you enjoying that particular beverage?" He pointed at the cup.

She smiled. "Nope. No vitamins for us!"

Pure relief flooded through him.

****
Dawn shifted her weight anxiously and waited for her sister to bring
Spike downstairs. He was all she'd heard about for the last three
days, and she couldn't wait to meet his human counterpart. She was
sure he'd be cool.

She could hear them coming, so she sat up straight, and leaned
forward.

William gasped loudly when he saw the girl sitting at the table.
Excitedly, he turned to Buffy, and before he could catch himself,
pulled her into a hug.

"You brought me the lil' bit!" He laughed loudly. "I thought you said
she couldn't come!"

And then, before Dawn or Buffy had a real chance to gage what had
happened, William ran forward, and gathered Dawn up into his arms.
Dawn, who was pleased that she was the only person he seemed to
remember but confused over the happy reunion, tentatitively gave him
a squeeze.

"How did you like your ship?" he asked, looking at her
excitedly, "Did you travel well? How's Mum? Did they bring her
too? Surely you haven't traveled without an escort?"

Dawn exchanged a look with Buffy and said, "Allow me to sum this all
up with a really, really, REALLY big 'huh'?"

It was William's turn to look confused. "Kitty?"

Buffy suddenly rushed forward. She put her arm around Dawn and
said, "This is my sister, Dawn Summers. Dawn, William Wyndham."

"Dawn Summers?!" And suddenly, William looked impossibly
embarrassed. Quickly he stepped back and looked at his shoes. "How
embarrassing, do forgive me. It's just that you look an awful lot
like my sister, Katherine."

"Hey, don't worry about it," Dawn replied, going back to her chair.

Buffy pointed at one for William, and the two of them sat, as well.

"So, we look exactly alike, huh?" Dawn asked, curious.

"Well..." William paused and looked at her carefully. "Not exactly,
now that I'm really looking at you. Her eyes are a different colour,
and you are taller. I believe she's older though. She gets a season
next summer, if I can sponsor her."

"A season?" Buffy asked, "What? Summer, winter, autumn, spring, and
Kitty?"

William sent her a funny look. "Do young women not have seasons
here? Well, nevermind then."

"I'd love to meet your sister," Dawn piped up.

"Thank you," he replied, casually pushing the food on his plate
around with his fork. He wasn't hungry, which was odd enough, since
he couldn't remember the last meal he'd eaten. He decided he wasn't
hungry now due to the fright Dawn had given him. That was enough to
chase any man's appetite away. Politely, he tried to forget his own
worries and lonely feelings, and focused on the story Dawn was
telling.

"...And then the cash register just exploded! BOOM! And Willow was
really embarrassed, because she didn't mean to, and you should have
seen Anya trying to save the money! And Giles had gone to
investigate something with Spike, right, and when they saw it, Spike
was all-"

"Spike?" William interrupted, suddenly interested.

Buffy regarded him warily. She had called him Spike before, and he
had not reacted overly much, so she couldn't imagine why he'd choose
now to make a big Spike speech.

"Yeah, Spike. A... er... friend of ours."

"A friend?" William looked like he was about to choke on his mouthful
of food.

"Well, yeah," Dawn took over, "I mean, at first he was all 'Grrr',
but once he laid off the pointy teeth, he wasn't at all bad. I like
him."

"Speak for yourself," Buffy murmured.

"You don't like him?" William breathed a sigh of relief. At least
one of them knew that he wanted to kill them.

"Well..." she sighed.

"Buffy!" Dawn implored, annoyed.

"Okay, fine, I like him. Happy now?"

William nodded, and tried to figure out what to say. When he
couldn't think of anything, he went back to pushing his peas with his
fork. At last, the meal was over, and he excused himself. He had
every intention of sitting on Buffy's porch, and getting some fresh
air. It would clear his head.

Buffy watched his retreating form with a sigh.

"I think he's remembering," she told her sister.

"I think so too," Dawn said, "He looked really upset when we called
Spike our friend."

"Your friend," Buffy corrected effortlessly. Dawn rolled her eyes.
She was used to her sister's denial. "I think I'm going to go out
and see what's up with him. Can you handle the dishes?"

"Yeah, yeah," the brunette girl replied, dismissing her sister with a
noncommital shooing gesture.

Buffy laughed, and went to find William.

****

He smelt her vanilla perfume before he saw her. Sighing, he debated
whether or not to acknowledge her presence and sacrifice his time
alone. Before he could even complete the thought and open his mouth,
Buffy had plopped down on the steps beside him.

"Hey," she said.

"Hello."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

William graced her with a shy, sweet smile. "Talk about what, Buffy?"

Buffy shrugged, drawing her knees up to her chest and gazing out into
the night. It felt so... weird not to be patrolling, but she just
couldn't bring herself to leave the house tonight. She gazed
expectantly at William.

"You know. Whatever it is that's giving you the wiggins."

William's eyes widened. Something had given him the wiggins.
Feeling an inkling of panic, he grabbed Buffy's arm.

"The wiggins? How did I bloody catch it? Should I be seeing a
doctor?"

"A doctor? The hell?" The expression on his face was too much for
her, and she chuckled softly. "No, no. That's... umm... what's
been... oh hell, do you have anything you want to tell me or not?
Because I have tonight off, and there are a lot of things I'd rather
be doing than sitting out here." Right, she added mentally. Because
the laundry that needed folding was just SO much better than this...

The silence was deafening, and William frantically searched for
something to say. There was no way in hell that he was going to tell
the blonde beside him that he'd been having bloody nightmares about
some bloke named Spike. She'd probably send him off to the insane
asylum in mere minutes.

Firmly, he decided not to mention Spike.

"So, tell me about Spike." This was followed by a harsh, mental kick.

Buffy wasn't surprised at the question. She'd been expecting it, more
or less.

"What do you want to know about the bleached wonder?" she asked,
picking at her fingernail.

"Oh, I don't know," he replied, "What do you want to tell me?"

"There's not much to say. Came here with his girlfriend- and let me
tell you, was SHE a crazy bitch!- shacked up with a bunch of nasties,
and decided we were going to be mortal enemies. Actually, I decided
that. His girlfriend got down with my boyfriend, we broke them up,
he left Sunnydale and that's that. And is it just me, or did that
whole story seem like a really huge understatement?"

"Until he came back," William said, wisely.

"Until he came back," Buffy echoed, deciding instead to gaze at her
shoe. "Turns out Dru dumped his ass for a chaos de- dentist. Had
better teeth than Spike. Not so pointy, and yeah. So, see, he gets
friendly with a bunch of government guys-" she paused to snort- "and
then... they... errr... knocked some sense into him. So Spike's
playing on our side now, and no more mortal enemies."

"So you are friends?" ventured the vampire.

"Oh please! Like anything could ever be THAT simple with Spike. Oh
no, he has to go and fall in love with me. Can you believe it? I
sure couldn't! Especially with his less than casual 'get the girl'
routine. Majorly weird. But then..." She paused for a
moment. "But see, then Mom... died, and Dawn and I got into some...
ummm... trouble. And Spike was really, really helpful. More than
some of my friends. And you know, how can you hate that?"

Buffy rolled her eyes at her confession. Of all people to confess
that she didn't utterly loathe Spike's existence to.

William turned so he could face her, and tried to figure out her
emotions by looking into her eyes. They were totally unreadable, so
he went out on a limb.

"Buffy, may I ask you a personal question?"

Uh oh. Personal questions coming from Spike- or his more... human
counterpart- were never a good thing. She swallowed, nervously.

"Umm, shoot."

"Do you love him?"

Buffy paused, choking on disbelief. Then she burst out laughing.

"Love him??? Are you kidding me?"

William looked sheepish, but he didn't back down. Instead, he
grabbed Buffy by the chin and forced her to look at him. She
squirmed under his very blue gaze, and tried her hardest to look
away, but his hand wouldn't let her. At last, he smiled.

"Ahh... there it is. That swoony look. Bloody hell, you've got it
bad!"

Buffy snorted, and wrenched her chin away. "T-that SWOONY look? I
have a swoony look? Please. This is so not a swoony look."

He rolled his eyes. "Touchy subject, I see. And you do so have one."

"Okay, I think that maybe you need glasses, or a doctor. Yes, you
need a doctor badly."

His reply was much more serious than Buffy had counted on. He took a
deep breath, and slowly said, "I must warn you of something...
unpleasant."

Buffy groaned, but gave him her full attention.

Suddenly nervous, William took his time in replying.

"Well, Buffy, you see there is something about Spike that you do not
know. He-he... He wants to kill you."

Buffy felt momentarily let down. She had thought for a second that
William was going to let her in on some juicy memory. She had
apparently been wrong. She got ready to laugh off his warning, but
stopped when she saw that he was looking at her as though his news
had broken her heart. She smiled softly.

"He did. A long time ago," she said.

"You can love somebody who wanted to kill you?"

"Hey, Victorian boy, this so isn't love! But once again, with Spike,
so not that simple. Umm... how can I explain this? We here at...
Pinkertons suspected Spike of this really awful crime, so he was...
on the run from us. But his girlfriend, the crazy one, tricked him
into thinking we were bad, and to avenge his honour... Spike and I
were going to... duel," she finished lamely.

William obviously did not buy her story. Slowly, he said, "I thought
you said that a bunch of chaps from the government got ahold of him
and talked some sense into him?"

She laughed nervously. "So I did. Can we talk about something else
pleeease? Spike is such a depressing subject."

He conceded with a withering sigh. "Fine. Tell me about your
mother."

"My mother?" Buffy repeated, dumbly. That was something she wasn't
ready to discuss quite yet. "I thought we were going to talk about
you. Why don't you tell me about your mother."

====

Spike, for the first time in his unlife, was glad that it was
raining, as the clouds prevented the direct sunlight from having its
merry way with him. He had gotten slightly sodden walking- or
sneaking, rather- over to the cemetary, but the trees surrounding the
graves gave him a bit of a shelter. He leaned against a tree and
wished he could say the same thing about the crowd gathered around
the freshly buried coffin. Or, at least about Kitty. He didn't give
a damn if the rest of the onlookers bloody froze to death.

The rain was beginning to get to the small crowd, which was rather
disappointing. He'd hoped to go collect Angel, Darla, and Dru and
have himself a real good meal... after Kitty left, of course.
Naturally, he'd have to come up with a good story, or else Angel
would probably want to go find her and make supper out of her
anyway.

Well, he could do that over Spike's undead body.

Idly, he wondered what his good ol' grandsire would think if he knew
why he was in the cemetary. Somehow, he didn't think saying, "I went
to my mum's bleedin' funeral because she was a real good mum, and I
loved her" would go over well. They'd all assume he'd gone soft, or
daft. But, that was the truth of the matter. He had loved his
mother.

And so, he knew, had Kitty. Dumbly, he reminded himself that she was
going as Katherine now, and was no longer even a Wyndham. She'd
married John Blakeley, if he remembered the announcement in the
newspaper correctly. He'd never met John, but watching the two of
them, he knew he loved his sister and was pleased. He remembered
vaguely how long Kitty had fancied herself in love with Andrew
Coleman, and shuddered. Now there was a real pillock.

Finally, the last mourner turned and left, and Spike vacated his spot
behind the tree. Calling on his newfound cocky attitude, he
swaggered towards the grave and stopped at the headstone.

Beloved Mother
Emily Ashley Wyndham
1835-1895

"Well, guess this is goodbye, Mum," he told the stone. "Sorry I
didn't come and visit. Didn't imagine you'd like the new me. But,
hey. At least I didn't marry Cecily- stupid bint. Know you hated
her. But, I wanted to say, you raised me good and proper, and I
loved you."

Then, hit with a emotions that made him feel like a bleedin' poof, he
blew the grave a kiss, and literally ran from the cemetary.

He did not see the young woman clad in black step out from behind
another grave. For a moment, she stood with her hand to her mouth,
utterly confused, and watched the man's retreat with large blue eyes.
Quickly, she glanced at a tombstone partly hidden by another.

"In loving memory of William Wyndham," she read outloud, "Died 1880."

It couldn't be, not possibly. But that man...

She shook her head, but could not erase the thought from her mind.

"John, love!" she cried, suddenly nervous, "Do wait for me. It's been a trying day,
and I do believe I just saw William!"

====

"What is it?" Buffy asked, responding to the ashen look on William's
face. Before she could think, she had grabbed his hand in hers and
was squeezing it tightly. "What's wrong?"

William laughed uneasily, and shook his head. Then, he looked down
at his hand entwined with the Slayer's, and felt his heart expand.
He swallowed. Hard.

"Nothing is the matter. I just... I just thought Mum died in 1895 is
all, but that's bloody stupid. It's only 1880."

"Yeah. Right. It's 1880."

Still clutching his hand, Buffy continued to look out into the night,
comforted again by Spike's- or William's- presense.