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. :) The song I used in this chapter belongs to Pete
Dodds.
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'?
Dedication: This chapter goes out to my mom, Jemma, Stacey, and
Gillian, for all of their kindness and support.
**********************************************************************
"How are things going with you and Sp- William?" Willow asked, leaning back on her chair in the Magic Box's training room. She'd been sitting there for the last hour, watching her best friend train.
The Slayer, who was breathing heavily with exertion, stopped her assault on the punching bag. She turned to the witch and swiped at her forehead with the back of her hand.
"Fine," she replied, slowly, "Why do you ask?"
Willow rolled her eyes. "It's just that we've been in here for an hour, and we've talked about everything else. I'm curious. So spill the beans."
"There aren't any beans to spill." Buffy paused slightly, giving the punching bag a real good kick. Mentally, she recapped the last day with William, and kicked it again- harder. Then, she spun around to face Willow, waving her arms about in desperation. "He said I have swoony eyes!"
"Sw-swoony eyes?" she repeated, "For who? William?"
"No, for Spike." Buffy punctuated her statement by making immature gagging noises.
"Spike thinks you're having fuzzy feelings for Spike?" Willow smiled patiently, and then laughed.
"What? This isn't funny! William thinks I love Spike!" Buffy restated, "So not rating high on the amusement scale, Wil!"
Sternly, Willow pressed her lips together. "I know, and I'm sorry. But just think about it and it's so... weird."
The Slayer did think about it, and then shook her head. "Do you think William could be breaking into Spike's thoughts and they're influencing how he thinks?"
The witch shrugged. "Could be, I guess. But then again, Buff, Spike is quite perceptive. William probably is, too."
Buffy gawked at her friend for a moment. Then, she ran about to her and looked her straight in the eyes. "Do YOU think I have swoony eyes?"
Gently, Willow pushed her away and patted the seat next to her. "I don't know, Buffy. If you want, I could do a spell and see. Go into your subconscious like before."
Buffy considered this for a moment. That, she brooded, would put an end to Spike's big "there's something between us" theory. Providing Willow didn't find anything warm and fuzzy. Unfortunately, Buffy was afraid there was a possibility of Willow finding just that.
"Ugh, Wil! Having William around is not of the good!" she whined, smacking her head in protest against the wall. "I mean, Spike told me he'd always been bad. Raised on the streets. A fighter. I can't believe he lied to me! When that chipped idiot comes back to himself I'm gonna-"
"Going to what, Buffy?" Willow rolled her eyes.
"And you wanna know what's the worst?"
"What?"
"He loves his sister and his mom. Like, really loves them."
"And you assumed he'd eaten them?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, Angelus did," she paused, "Wil, there is one thing you can do for me, though."
"What's that?"
"Can you see how long they lived for? Like, on the internet or something? Just to make sure he... didn't?"
"Sure." The witch smiled warmly at her friend. "So, William bored out of his mind yet?"
"Nah," Buffy replied, shaking her head, "I don't think he's bored at all."
***
William was sure he'd never been so stir crazy in his whole entire life. Even the time when he and his childhood best friend, Jacob Richards, had gotten themselves locked in the coal bin for six hours didn't come close to this. At least then his father had found them eventually, and had released them to play with only a small lecture about being where they shouldn't be. Who was to find him here? Murderers, if Buffy Summers and her friends were to be believed. He shook his head and supressed a shudder, before crossing to the window. It was covered by thick beige curtains, and he'd been warned that he wasn't to open it during the day under any circumstances. Something about his own safety. He shook his head, fingering the own material. He was his own man, and nobody had the right to take away his sunshine. Nodding, he made a move to open it.
Something inside of him- something basic and instinctive- stopped him. A sense of self-preservation hit him, and he returned moodily to the bed.
" 'Twas way up in Brummagem so I do hear say, A boat by the name of the Rosemary lay. She was clothed up and painted in traditional style, But she hadn't carried for a very long while," he sang softly, getting to his feet, and pacing the room (again).
He stopped at the counter opposite the bed and lightly began to finger the ornaments that decorated it. There was a figurine of a young woman holding a cat that he thought his sister would have liked, and it made him smile.
"Along came a boatman, the old boat to see, Says he 'Here's a craft that is useful to me. I'll load her with coal and for London I'll steer', Said the boatman to the owner, 'If I take her from here'."
He moved away from the figurines to stand before a square black box sitting on the left side of the counter. Cautiously, he hunched before it and gave it a quizzical poke. He wondered what it was. William was willing to bet it was top secret Pinkerton equipment. Then he noticed a row of neat little buttons, marked 'Play', 'Rewind', 'Fast Foward', 'Pause', 'Stop', and 'Record.' Still humming distractedly, he peered at them.
"The owner said 'Yes' and the boatman 'Okay' And into the cabin he went straightaway. He lit up the stove, cleaned cobwebs and mould, And polished the beam 'til it shone like fine gold."
The 'Play' button's allure was too much for the vampire to take. Carefully, he reached forward and pressed it. Then, William the Bloody, slayer of two slayers, and feared by many, jumped back and screamed bloody murder.
It took Buffy, who had returned home twenty minutes earlier, mere seconds to run up to the spare bedroom, worry fluttering within her heart.
"William? Are you okay?" she yelled, ripping open the door, "I thought I told you not to open the blinds! Somebody might-"
The sight before her stopped her short. William was hovering on the bed, staring suspiciously at her old radio, which was now turned on and blaring her sister's Live CD. He looked as though he suspected it would bite. Buffy bit back a laugh.
Relieved to find out he wasn't alone, William whipped his head in Buffy's direction.
"What in the bleedin' hell is that?" he cried, scared out of his usual politeness, "The soddin' thing is-is YELLING at me!"
Still chuckling softly, the Slayer crossed to the radio and stopped the CD. She then smiled uneasily at the vampire.
"It's nothing, just Pinkertons' equipment," she lied, with a winning smile.
William felt his heart skip a beat at her smile. Then he remembered his anger.
"What's it doing here? Are you purposely trying to scare me to death?"
Buffy rolled her eyes. "A little late to scare you to death."
There was an awkward silence as Buffy moved the radio into the closet, and William came down from his frightened high. He sat for a moment, embarrassed. Then, he softly asked, "How does that thing work?"
Buffy snorted. Like she was going to explain how a radio worked to somebody from a time that had just discovered lightbulbs. Plus, she wasn't sure of the technicalities.
"I don't know. Classified," she said, "Why don't I get you a book or something?"
William sighed. "Not really up to reading, thank you. I was wondering, however... I was thinking about t-taking a stroll, and perhaps... that is would you... would you like to accompany me?" He looked up at her and smiled shyly.
This time it was Buffy's heart that skipped a beat. She had never seen such a soft, unsure smile on Spike's face and it was doing funny things to her. Inanely, she grinned back.
"I-I'd love to." And then she realized what he'd asked. "Oh! But I can't."
"Why?" Despite his attempt, he couldn't hide his disappointment.
"It's still light out. Do you want to be burnt to a crisp?"
"Burnt to a crisp?" He smiled wryly. "It's just sun, Buffy."
"Oh... right, you're not Spike," she muttered to herself. Louder, she added, "For your protection. From those murderers."
Frustration welled up in him. He'd be damned if he had to sit in that bloody room for one more day. "Is there something I can do?"
"Are you bored?" she asked, amused.
"For Heaven's sakes, no... well, slightly. Which isn't to say you aren't a good host! You are doing a bloody good job, it's just that-"
"You're bored. It's okay, I get that. I just don't know what..." A metaphorical light bulb lit up in Buffy's head and she snapped her fingers. "You stay here. I'll be right back with the fun!"
With that, she left his room, and ran to her own. She picked up the phone and quickly dialed a number. Within seconds, Anya had answered.
"Hello?" she asked.
"Hi, Ahn," Buffy said, twirling the cord, "How would you all feel about a Victorian party?"
**********************************************************************
"How are things going with you and Sp- William?" Willow asked, leaning back on her chair in the Magic Box's training room. She'd been sitting there for the last hour, watching her best friend train.
The Slayer, who was breathing heavily with exertion, stopped her assault on the punching bag. She turned to the witch and swiped at her forehead with the back of her hand.
"Fine," she replied, slowly, "Why do you ask?"
Willow rolled her eyes. "It's just that we've been in here for an hour, and we've talked about everything else. I'm curious. So spill the beans."
"There aren't any beans to spill." Buffy paused slightly, giving the punching bag a real good kick. Mentally, she recapped the last day with William, and kicked it again- harder. Then, she spun around to face Willow, waving her arms about in desperation. "He said I have swoony eyes!"
"Sw-swoony eyes?" she repeated, "For who? William?"
"No, for Spike." Buffy punctuated her statement by making immature gagging noises.
"Spike thinks you're having fuzzy feelings for Spike?" Willow smiled patiently, and then laughed.
"What? This isn't funny! William thinks I love Spike!" Buffy restated, "So not rating high on the amusement scale, Wil!"
Sternly, Willow pressed her lips together. "I know, and I'm sorry. But just think about it and it's so... weird."
The Slayer did think about it, and then shook her head. "Do you think William could be breaking into Spike's thoughts and they're influencing how he thinks?"
The witch shrugged. "Could be, I guess. But then again, Buff, Spike is quite perceptive. William probably is, too."
Buffy gawked at her friend for a moment. Then, she ran about to her and looked her straight in the eyes. "Do YOU think I have swoony eyes?"
Gently, Willow pushed her away and patted the seat next to her. "I don't know, Buffy. If you want, I could do a spell and see. Go into your subconscious like before."
Buffy considered this for a moment. That, she brooded, would put an end to Spike's big "there's something between us" theory. Providing Willow didn't find anything warm and fuzzy. Unfortunately, Buffy was afraid there was a possibility of Willow finding just that.
"Ugh, Wil! Having William around is not of the good!" she whined, smacking her head in protest against the wall. "I mean, Spike told me he'd always been bad. Raised on the streets. A fighter. I can't believe he lied to me! When that chipped idiot comes back to himself I'm gonna-"
"Going to what, Buffy?" Willow rolled her eyes.
"And you wanna know what's the worst?"
"What?"
"He loves his sister and his mom. Like, really loves them."
"And you assumed he'd eaten them?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, Angelus did," she paused, "Wil, there is one thing you can do for me, though."
"What's that?"
"Can you see how long they lived for? Like, on the internet or something? Just to make sure he... didn't?"
"Sure." The witch smiled warmly at her friend. "So, William bored out of his mind yet?"
"Nah," Buffy replied, shaking her head, "I don't think he's bored at all."
***
William was sure he'd never been so stir crazy in his whole entire life. Even the time when he and his childhood best friend, Jacob Richards, had gotten themselves locked in the coal bin for six hours didn't come close to this. At least then his father had found them eventually, and had released them to play with only a small lecture about being where they shouldn't be. Who was to find him here? Murderers, if Buffy Summers and her friends were to be believed. He shook his head and supressed a shudder, before crossing to the window. It was covered by thick beige curtains, and he'd been warned that he wasn't to open it during the day under any circumstances. Something about his own safety. He shook his head, fingering the own material. He was his own man, and nobody had the right to take away his sunshine. Nodding, he made a move to open it.
Something inside of him- something basic and instinctive- stopped him. A sense of self-preservation hit him, and he returned moodily to the bed.
" 'Twas way up in Brummagem so I do hear say, A boat by the name of the Rosemary lay. She was clothed up and painted in traditional style, But she hadn't carried for a very long while," he sang softly, getting to his feet, and pacing the room (again).
He stopped at the counter opposite the bed and lightly began to finger the ornaments that decorated it. There was a figurine of a young woman holding a cat that he thought his sister would have liked, and it made him smile.
"Along came a boatman, the old boat to see, Says he 'Here's a craft that is useful to me. I'll load her with coal and for London I'll steer', Said the boatman to the owner, 'If I take her from here'."
He moved away from the figurines to stand before a square black box sitting on the left side of the counter. Cautiously, he hunched before it and gave it a quizzical poke. He wondered what it was. William was willing to bet it was top secret Pinkerton equipment. Then he noticed a row of neat little buttons, marked 'Play', 'Rewind', 'Fast Foward', 'Pause', 'Stop', and 'Record.' Still humming distractedly, he peered at them.
"The owner said 'Yes' and the boatman 'Okay' And into the cabin he went straightaway. He lit up the stove, cleaned cobwebs and mould, And polished the beam 'til it shone like fine gold."
The 'Play' button's allure was too much for the vampire to take. Carefully, he reached forward and pressed it. Then, William the Bloody, slayer of two slayers, and feared by many, jumped back and screamed bloody murder.
It took Buffy, who had returned home twenty minutes earlier, mere seconds to run up to the spare bedroom, worry fluttering within her heart.
"William? Are you okay?" she yelled, ripping open the door, "I thought I told you not to open the blinds! Somebody might-"
The sight before her stopped her short. William was hovering on the bed, staring suspiciously at her old radio, which was now turned on and blaring her sister's Live CD. He looked as though he suspected it would bite. Buffy bit back a laugh.
Relieved to find out he wasn't alone, William whipped his head in Buffy's direction.
"What in the bleedin' hell is that?" he cried, scared out of his usual politeness, "The soddin' thing is-is YELLING at me!"
Still chuckling softly, the Slayer crossed to the radio and stopped the CD. She then smiled uneasily at the vampire.
"It's nothing, just Pinkertons' equipment," she lied, with a winning smile.
William felt his heart skip a beat at her smile. Then he remembered his anger.
"What's it doing here? Are you purposely trying to scare me to death?"
Buffy rolled her eyes. "A little late to scare you to death."
There was an awkward silence as Buffy moved the radio into the closet, and William came down from his frightened high. He sat for a moment, embarrassed. Then, he softly asked, "How does that thing work?"
Buffy snorted. Like she was going to explain how a radio worked to somebody from a time that had just discovered lightbulbs. Plus, she wasn't sure of the technicalities.
"I don't know. Classified," she said, "Why don't I get you a book or something?"
William sighed. "Not really up to reading, thank you. I was wondering, however... I was thinking about t-taking a stroll, and perhaps... that is would you... would you like to accompany me?" He looked up at her and smiled shyly.
This time it was Buffy's heart that skipped a beat. She had never seen such a soft, unsure smile on Spike's face and it was doing funny things to her. Inanely, she grinned back.
"I-I'd love to." And then she realized what he'd asked. "Oh! But I can't."
"Why?" Despite his attempt, he couldn't hide his disappointment.
"It's still light out. Do you want to be burnt to a crisp?"
"Burnt to a crisp?" He smiled wryly. "It's just sun, Buffy."
"Oh... right, you're not Spike," she muttered to herself. Louder, she added, "For your protection. From those murderers."
Frustration welled up in him. He'd be damned if he had to sit in that bloody room for one more day. "Is there something I can do?"
"Are you bored?" she asked, amused.
"For Heaven's sakes, no... well, slightly. Which isn't to say you aren't a good host! You are doing a bloody good job, it's just that-"
"You're bored. It's okay, I get that. I just don't know what..." A metaphorical light bulb lit up in Buffy's head and she snapped her fingers. "You stay here. I'll be right back with the fun!"
With that, she left his room, and ran to her own. She picked up the phone and quickly dialed a number. Within seconds, Anya had answered.
"Hello?" she asked.
"Hi, Ahn," Buffy said, twirling the cord, "How would you all feel about a Victorian party?"
