"Ow!"

Mr. Angel's voice was surprisingly full of indignancy, considering that he'd just lost a kidney.

"Since when do you use shotguns?" the wounded vampire continued, not even bothering to take cover.

William sort of sighed a little and answered, "No idea."

And with that, he leapt down to the first floor, pumping another round into the chamber of the shotgun. As he rolled to his feet, a small blonde girl leapt from behind a column, almost blindsiding him with a bat.

He punched her in the face and kept walking.

"You're a big boy, boss," William spat, bringing the shotgun to bear as he approached his target, "You really need chippies on guard duty?"

And then he was hit in the back of the head with what felt like a blackjack.

"No, but it helps," a man with an eyepatch said from above him.

Swinging his feet around like a breakdancer, he took down the eyepatched man and leapt to standing, though his head hurt a bit. Mr. Angel remained standing, albeit bleeding quite a bit, as if daring him to make a move.

William was happy to oblige.

He swung the gun again, this time firing as soon as he had a bead on Angel's torso. He was very surprised, however, when a large and incredibly irritating clang noise came from shortly in front of himself. A split second later, Mr. Angel was sent sprawling, the manhole cover that had been thrown in the way colliding with his chest.

"Nice throw," he congratulated the girl he knew as Faith, "Got another?"

And then he was on the ground again, looking up at the blonde with the bat even before he knew she was awake.

"We got a lot," she frowned.

As he began to get up again, he felt his body sag into uselessness, gravity pinning him impossibly to the floor.

"What the-" William was interrupted.

"A binding spell," a British man announced from the sidelines, a redheaded woman with him, "Don't bother getting up, William."

Wesley walked up to him, pulling the shotgun away. "Sorry, William. Looks like you haven't got the means to do this job."

William smiled with relief. "I told you."

---

"So you planned this out?" Giles asked with a hint of surprise.

Wesley Wyndham-Pryce smirked a bit, hoping he wasn't letting on that he was proud of it. "Well, not down to the punch, but roughly, yes. It was a smashing success, if you ask me."

"You got Angel shot in the gut," Giles eyeballed him harshly.

"Turnabout," Wesley smiled darkly, "remains fair play."

Rupert seemed to accede that point.

"In any event, William is off the hook, as far as I can figure," Wesley expained.

Looking up knowingly, Giles continued, "Yes, he gave it his best, ah, shot, and he failed."

Bringing a finger up, Wesley added, "Not just that, but he always will fail, no matter how he tries. I think we proved summarily enough that it's a job he cannot do."

"And what about Wolfram and Hart?" Giles asked after a moment.

"Good question," Wesley wondered aloud.

They both took a sip from the tea someone had surreptitiously brewed and stared at nothing. Neither spoke for a few seconds, the weight of what had transpired beginning to be felt.

"Doesn't do much for job security, does it?" Giles asked.

"No, not really," Wesley answered.

---

"Wow," the eyepatched man marvelled over William's prone form, "He really does look different with brown hair."

"Very professional," the redhead agreed.

Suddenly, a slight brunette stood, angry and frustrated loking. "Yeah, a professional killer!"

"Dawn," the blonde tried to interrupt.

"I can't believe you guys are sitting around and joking when..." she slowed down, "When Spike just tried to kill Angel. With a shotgun!"

"Not the first time," the man explained.

William smirked and moved his head a little. "Wouldn't know. Amnesia, and all."

"See?" the one called Dawn shouted, "He doesn't know any of us! How do we know he's not gonna shoot one of us next?"

"Boss didn't tell me to," William explained neatly.

"But..." Dawn trailed off to a whisper, probably below the hearing of the rest of them, "How do we know we'll get Spike back?"

And there it was. They definitely knew him. They knew him as "Spike," but they obviously knew him. And, apparently, they liked him. A welcome change, to say the least.

"Guys," the blonde said suddenly and with some force, "Can I... could you leave me alone with him?"

And they all looked at her expectantly.

"Just for a few minutes. Maybe I can..."

And they all nodded at her knowingly.

He waited a few moments, sizing her up. She was pretty, though he could see a lot of fights on her. And there, in her eyes, was a strange sort of Look. A Look like she knew him. Like he knew her. A Look like old friends... or siblings meeting again.

"Who am I?" he asked simply.

She knelt down in front of him, and he could see tears welling up in her eyes. "Spike..."

"I know," he explained, "But who is that?"

She opened up her mouth to answer, but stopped, realizing that she had nothing to say. Slowly, she put her hand on his face, and he couldn't tell if she was happy or sad.

"Oh, my God!" she exclaimed, pulling her hand back, "You're alive!"

He blinked a little, but it didn't really help. "Yeah, 'bout par for the course."

"No, I mean... human," she stammered, apparently shocked.

"What?" he exclaimed, the depth of that statement sinking in, "What does that mean? What was I before?"

She didn't seem to want to answer. To hell with her. "Tell me! What was I? Who was I?"

"You were a bloodthirsty, murderous vampire," a voice came from the side of the room.

And there was a young man with blonde hair, shortish and nerdy. He caught a hell of a Look from the blonde, but he kept walking for them. Soon, he knelt down beside them, a look of goofy resolution on his face.

"Look, Buffy, he's got to know."

Buffy glared, "But..."

"You were the worst of the worst," he continued, ignoring the pleading face of Buffy, "Turned in eighteen-hundred and eighty by Drusilla."

Oh, that would make sense, actually. At least it was looking less likely that his memories were false.

"Go on," William said, a little more shaky than he wanted.

The boy drew a breath, hunkering down for something. "Angel had turned her. And Darla before him. The four of you cut a swath through Europe for more than ten years, nothing but bloody death waiting for your enemies, and most of your friends."

"Angel?" William exclaimed.

"But then things changed," the boy rattled on, "Angel killed the wrong girl, and her family cursed him with what would hurt him the most: a soul. Your vampire family was shattered-"

"Andrew," Buffy said warningly.

Andrew cleared his throat and went on. "Anyway, your girlfriend got beat up by a mob, so you came to Sunnydale to fix her up."

"Guess that didn't go too well..." William speculated.

"Buffy stopped you time and time again, in a nigh-endless battle of the sexes! Yes, that's right, the two of you were bitter enemies, evenly matched in all things..."

William couldn't raise his hand, but he made the halting noises to go with it. "Assuming I'm such a bad sort, why're we all chums now?"

"Good question," Buffy wondered knowingly.

Sighing, Andrew went on, seeming a bit put off by the interactions. "Well, you left for about a year, and Drusilla broke up with you. This is when your story gets really good."

"You sure about that?"

"Quiet. A year later, you returned to Sunnydale, intent on killing the Slayer-"

"WHAT?" William exclaimed.

Andrew looked around for a moment, confused, then smiled. "Oh, yeah, I forgot that, uh... you forgot. She's the Slayer."

"The Slayer?" He exclaimed. He'd heard of it before.

"Well, actually A Slayer, now," Andrew amended, "But let's move on, shall we?"

William sighed.

"You were intent on killing the Slayer, to prove your manhood. Or, uh, demonhood. But then, you were captured, and a chip was put in your head, a piece of plastic and steel that took away your monster. Yes, the bloodthirsty, rampant Spike was muzzled. You couldn't so much as harm a living soul without brain-twisting agony!"

"Seems I've lived an extremely silly life," William droned, "Or unlife, I guess."

"But then you fell in love with Buffy!" Andrew exclaimed, getting into the story.

"Hey," Buffy shouted, "You skipped a lot!"

William joined in. "Just like that? Bang, love?"

"Oh, that stuff was boring," Andrew dismissed, "In any case, love made a man out of the monster, and you cared for Buffy, and later, her sister Dawn, after both their mother and Buffy died."

"You died?" William asked her, incredulously.

"Twice," she acceded.

"Saving the world," Andrew added.

William paused for a moment, then asked, "Your mum, too?"

Buffy's face dropped, and he was sorry he'd said that. "Sorry I said that. Touchy subject, I'd suppose. So, ah, where do I stop being a vampire?"

"Well, you eventually fought to regain your soul," Andrew explained, "And returned to Sunnydale, insane in a school basement."

"Can I just say that I don't much care for me and my life?" William asked calmly.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "We've all been there."

"Self loathing?" William asked.

"You loathing," she answered.

He gave one of his first Looks in a while. "Go on," he threatened Andrew.

"Okay, uh, during that year, this last year, you- we all fought The First Evil, and it almost won. There were a lot of sacrifices... and you were one of them."

"Come again?"

Andrew sighed and clarified, "You wore an amulet that saved the day, but it burned you up. Last time we saw you, you were just a cloud in the sea of dust that is Sunny-"

Realization flooded him, and his eyes widened. "And then I woke up in that crater!"

"Whatever happened," Andrew concluded, standing irritatedly, "I guess you're human now. Uh, congrats?"

William just stared up blankly, thinking about what he had just been told. "Wow."

"Do you remember?" Buffy asked a little frantically, grabbing his shoulders, "Do you remember me? ... Us?"

Blinking, he turned his head to look at her. "Don't remember me or you, so I guess that rules out us. But tell you what, I'll believe what you told me and we'll call it even."

---

"He shot me!" Angel exclaimed, eyes wide and indignant.

Lilah Morgan remained seated.

"Look at this!" he shot, lifting up his shirt to reveal a huge bandage, "I had to get a kidney put back in! It's been years since I've had to do that!"

"What do you want me to do about it?" she asked calmly.

Glowering, he placed his hands firmly on her desk. "Let's try not ordering my death, for starters."

Lilah shrugged. "We had a request from one of our stockholders. We were contractually obliged to do what we could without breaking our contract with you."

He was sure she was lying, but had no way of proving it. "Yeah, about those contracts. I took a look at his. Looks like it got changed a lot."

Her smile nearly wavered.

"In my favor," Angel continued, "It says that he's supposed to fight for my cause first, and for you people second. Maybe you'd like to let me handle my employees directly."

Lilah smiled, maybe even warmly.

"I thought you'd never ask."