It was a big garden and fortunately we had arrived behind some big flowery things which masked us from sight. Stepping out from there I could see the white of what looked like an old, slightly shabby, European classical style palace with some new wings bunged on. Prince Charles would have a fit. Some very scruffy travellers were enjoying a beer in the last of the afternoon sun. I raised my eyebrows and said to Giles "not the Hilton this time then?"

Buffy piped up. "I liked the Hilton."

Giles interrupted. "No, we need to know what the opposition are up to. This place is the centre of the traveller grapevine for much of Asia. Anything going on this is where we'll find out. I'm sure Riley and his sort'll be staying somewhere safely bland."

Buffy continued oblivious "Holiday Inn? Marriott? No?" he shook his head. She continued "Days Inn? Howard Johnson? Motel 6? Uuuh this place looks funny!"

Giles grinned at her and said, "welcome to backbacker world Buffy, and our best hope of both hearing what's going on, and sorting out the mechanics of getting to Shambala."

"Spike and me don't have to be carry guys all the way then?"

"Not and be able to fight too. You might have enough problems adjusting to the altitude, though being a slayer you should be ok. Spike and Anya being immortals should be fine, though I don't remember too many studies on altitude and demon physiology in the Watcher library. But I know I'm going to feel it. Maybe you too. And it can be fatal above 10,000ft, and we'll be going much higher. No, we'll take some porters for the bulk of the luggage and especially the cooking."

"I cook!" from Buffy.

"Exactly!" From Giles.

"Anya tell him how well I cook!"

"Rupie dear hiring cooks is a wonderful idea. And porters too, I'm not having you tire yourself out. That's my job!"

Buffy Sherpa and Muggins Sherpa took the bags for at least one of the last times in the near future and traipsed after Giles and Anyanka through the veranda into the Kathmandu Guest House. We got to reception, handed Giles our passports, and let him sort out the rooms.



Giles brought back our passports after checking us all in. As he passed mine back to me Buffy snatched it, going "ooh! Passport Photo of Spike!" Naturally I tried to snatch it back. Since it's a magical passport the pic isn't the usual FBI's most wanted horror, but it's still a passport photo, and I'm not sure it really catches my best side. This of course resulted in us chasing each other round the lobby, whilst being watched with interest by the locals, and travellers clad in either trekking gear or hippy ethnic gear, or a combination of both.

Giles and Anyanka had their "what are we going to do with the children" looks on their faces. Not fair really, she's at least 900 years older than me, and while he looks older than I do, my birth-date was about a century earlier. Wouldn't give this up though, she's laughing, squealing, and I catch her and tickle her 'til she gives my passport back. Came as a surprise that time in the crypt when I found the big bad slayer was ticklish, course she had to retaliate, unfortunately, I am too.

This time I got there first and she's an out of breath laughing ball on the floor of reception. Unfortunately my passport is still right in the centre of said ball of Buffy.

Giles cleared his throat. Oops. We're both in trouble with Dad. Never mind, it's just so much more fun tickling Buffy 'til she can't take any more. And she can take so much.

Giles cleared his throat again. Ok I can be good, probably, well maybe in this case. Besides Buffy's beginning to get breathless and that's always time to stop. So I do. Then I help Buffy up, but even then she keeps my passport, and stuffs it down the front of her blouse. Then she sticks her very cute tongue out at me. Before I can say anything she turns demurely to Giles and does a big eyed "sorry, we'll be good."

Giles and Anyanka did a synchronised "humpf" and threw the luggage to both Buffy and me. Least we're both in the dog-house this time. So Buffy and I throw "we're in trouble now" glances at each other and start giggling again, anyway until we're full recipients of the Giles glare. Time to behave, a bit anyway. So we duly trot after them, and a hotel guy who just looks relieved the nutters have stopped without him having to call the police.

We go upstairs and get shown to two rooms overlooking the garden. Lot more basic than Cairo but considerably more comfy than Tanzania, and much better than some of the places I've slept in my time. Of course when we travelled with Darla she always insisted on staying in the top hotels. She'd always complain about the service, right before eating the night clerk. What I never figured is that she always moaned that the service in the hotels never improved despite all the complaints she made. Strange woman, suppose over a hundred years of Angelus'll do that.

Same rooming arrangement as Cairo though. But since all the trekking gear is muddled up in the bags we all retire to Giles and my room for now. Sun won't be up for much longer and when the sun goes down at this height it's gonna get cold. Be nice to get a beer in though, and I'm dying for a fag.

Anyanka pulled out the fleeces and threw a emerald green one to Giles saying "Rupie this is yours…it goes with your eyes!" He blushed. She gave a tiny deep purple one to Buffy. Lovely rich colour but more Dawn's colour than Buffy's. Obviously all is not quite yet hunky dory between the girls. But Buffy smiles and says thanks. She takes a crimson one for herself, and I get a black one with little blue footprints on the back. Least it's not poofy.

Buffy said "I need a shower. This is lovely, but I'm still all smoky, dusty and messy Buffy." Anyanka gave her the room key for their room, and she went to move next door.

Of course she still had my passport, so "Missy! My passport?"

"Later Spike, when I'm all clean, non-sweaty Buffy!" And she flounced off next door. Course I don't actually mind my passport Buffy scented, and she knows that perfectly well.

Anyanka continued unpacking what looks like enough gear to both climb Everest and walk there as well. Giles and me put our fleeces on. I do need some fags though and that needs the local money. So I ask the watcher if he's got any. He shakes his head, but since we all need some we both go downstairs. Not gonna change it all now, just enough for food, booze, fags and expenses for a day or so.

Both of us have done lots of travelling, and it would really go against the grain to change money in the hotel. Did it in Cairo but this place is just so much funkier and neither of us want to be boring middle of the road hotel guys. Here anyway we both get to be us. So we step outside the hotel into a big drive with some giant Mercedes and Bedford trucks parked outside, both plastered with overland travel company logos on them. We decline the services of a taxi and some auto-rickshaws and inhale Asia.



It's been a while since I was in Asia, and it's more Western than I remember, but still fun. Besides I've never been to Nepal before and at my age it's bloody good to be able to say something's new. It's loud, the air pollution is terrible, but breathing for me is optional. There are advantages to being undead.

We walk out into the street, full of restaurants catering to travellers, the odd internet café, some bars, trekking agencies, traffic, travellers and touts looking for business. I'm not the only one breathing it in Giles looking round says "its changed, of course, but still much the same." At my quizzical look he says "was here with Ethan, of course we were off our heads most of the time we were here but…" Shakes his head and spots a carpet shop.

We go into the little shop and the guy inside greets us and starts to unfurl carpets. Giles starts talking to him in a language I don't know, but at least the carpets stop being exhibited. Giles and the guy do some negotiating, play with a calculator, come to an exchange rate and do the trade. Can't help feeling Anyanka would have preferred to have done it. On the other hand if she had Giles might have ended up with a carpet as well. And no matter how many porters we end up with I just know who'd end up lugging a carpet up a bloody great big mountain.

Anyway, fortified with some local dosh, we made our way back to the girls. Picked up a packet of fags first though. God I love countries where they are this cheap. Course the downside is that I miss Passions, but this is much more fun anyway.

Giles and Anyanka opted to stay in the room sorting out the gear. Well that was their story and they were sticking to it. Yeah right! I knocked on Buffy's door and invited her to a) come down to the garden for a beer and b) give me back my passport. She voted yes to option a.

I bought a couple of bottle of beer. The bottles were big but they were the only option, and Giles had told me to keep her beer levels up, to offset the germs in the dust. So no coke for Buffy this time. We walked out into the garden and found ourselves a seat.



The sun was setting and, despite the haze, we could still see the foothills of the himalayas turning red overlooking the city. I say foothills, anywhere else they'd be bloody huge mountains.

We clinked our bottles and supped away.

She took my passport out of the pocket of her fleece. She looked at it, and then at me. She handed it back to me. Very quietly she said, "is that your real name? It's not the real date of course, but is it your real name?"

This is a turn up. I tilted my head and looked at her. "Yes pet, right name, right day and month too, just the year's different. Why?"

"God Spike! All that time I was having sex with you! I never knew your surname! My Mother would kill me!"

"Never! So? You like it?"

"Suits you! William Grey."

"My mum'd be happy. Named me after my dad's favourite brother. Got 'imself killed in the charge of the Light Brigade. Daft sod."

"So suicidal courage and a total lack of common sense runs in the family?"

"Yeah, both sides." So I gave her the potted family history. Dad's side full of border wars with the Scots. Got a title back under Elizabeth for Scot and catholic bashing. Course my dad was a younger son and didn't inherit, went into the church, while his brothers became soldiers or sailors. That phased her, she nearly dropped her beer at that one.

"Your father was a Bishop?"

"Yeah, well didn't have to be very religious for that then, pet. C of E you know, not done to be enthusiastic, that was for catholics or methodists. Was a classical scholar, well regarded one too. Had me learning Homer at 6. Course me mum preferred Wordsworth. But he was 25 years older than mum, died when I was 12." She looked sad for me at that and rubbed my free hand. But most of all she was listening. That's what felt bloody marvellous. She was listening and interested. Means everything, that does.

So I told her the rest. My oldest brother John being a social disgrace and going into trade. Course he was bloody successful and so able to support mum, my sisters, and me in my daft literary delusions. Henry going off to join the army in India like mum's brothers.

Then of course she asked the question. "Did you kill them?"

Know what Angelus did. He gloried in it…the tosser. Know she'd expect it of me too. Still hurts she asked even if I knew she had too. Been one of the things I've blessed since I got re-tuned that I didn't do. Not sure I could have stood it now if I had. But owe the girl an answer.

Very quietly I said "No. Matter of fact I created such a hue and cry we had to flee London. Angelus, the git, nearly staked me over it. Not innocent by any means, pet. Did some pretty horrible things to some people whose sins were being mean gits, and having a different taste in literature…they had some, I couldn't write it. But my family, no they lived out their lives. I couldn't be part of them anymore. Saw some entries in the papers sometime. But busy being the Scourge of Europe at the time so had to move on luv. Been changed, couldn't go back. Been changed now, not going back."

She smiled. Clinked her bottle with mine and said, "I'm glad…to both." Then we enjoyed what was left of the sunset. Together.