Buffy was still staring at where the portal had been, her mouth hanging open.
"Buffy, what's going on?" Dawn asked, her voice shaking a little.
"It's a curse."
"How do you know?'
"Because he told me. He said on his 213th birthday something bad would happen. His…erm, the person he loved would have to decide whether he lived or died."
"Are you sure it was the one he loved?" Willow said.
"Well, he said it was a rough translation."
"What language?"
"Indian, I think."
"This sounds familiar…" She said, biting her lip.
"Yeah, I think I know what it is. And I think he translated it wrong." Tara put in softly. "Willow, did you bring your computer?"
"Yeah, hold on…" She got her bag from the couch and produced her laptop. "What? You never know when you might need it. Like now, for instance." She shrugged. "Ok, Tara. Where to?"
"Uh…search for a Cherokee curse, maybe. Something about birthdays?"
"Okey-dokey. Coming up."
"How can you be so jolly, Willow?" Dawn said, tears forming in her eyes. "Xander and Spike could both die anytime now!"
"Oh, its not that serious, I don't-," Her eyes grew big.
"What is it?" Buffy asked, glancing over her shoulder.
"Well, I found the curse I think. Same elements…he just, uh translated it wrong. It was supposed to say 'enemy'."
"But why Xander? He's got a lot of other enemies."
"I guess he was the closest. Who knows. But, well, maybe if Spike would have told us what was going on we could have been more prepared. It is pretty bad."
"What?" Dawn asked.
"He's only got 48 hours to do this. He has to stop him from doing whatever he got cursed for. But he doesn't know that."
"Where is he? And why an enemy?"
"Well, it is a curse, not pleasant. That's why it's got to be Xander. He's not blinded by love. And if I'm reading this right…he's gone back in time."
*******************
The sun was finally coming up and Xander stepped out of the doorway he'd been hiding in for the past few hours. He decided to roam around until he found a shopkeeper to tell him where he was. The butcher was the first one to open. The bell tinkled above the doorway as he entered and an older women turned to look at him.
"Yeah, what is it?" She looked him up and down a few times. "Say, where'd you come in from? You're one of those fancy French people, ain't ya?" She said in an undoubtedly English accent.
"No, but I was hoping you could tell me where I was. And what year it is."
She gave a rude chuckle. "Serious, are you?"
"Um, yeah. I am. Could you tell me and I'll leave you alone?"
"Bruce. Come 'ere! Take a look at this one!" She called to the back. A big guy with a bloody apron came out from the back. His thick, black hair was pulled to the back of his neck.
"What do you want? Are you a beggar?"
"No, I just want to know what year it is. And where I am. I…uh, I got really drunk last night and woke up in that alley over there."
The man rolled his eyes. "Second time this week someone's done that. Be more responsible, got me? You're in England. It's 1892. Alright?" Xander nodded. "Now if you aren't buying nothing, get out."
Xander walked back out onto the street, which had a few more people on it now. Mostly merchants or beggars. What was he going to do now? Why hadn't he let Buffy go? She seemed to know what was going on. Shaking his head he wandered into what he figured was an abandoned building. The floor was covered in dust, dirt, various dead rodents…and a pair of boots. He looked up the legs, then the chest, then the face.
"Hello, mate. Nice of you to join us. We were just talking about finding some guests for ourselves." He got a glimpse of three other people before something hard came into contact with the back of his head and everything went black.
