Disclaimers: All characters which are native to the land of Sunnydale and its various connections are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox, WB, UPN and The Powers That Be (aka 'them' or 'they'). It's definitely not me. All new characters (those which are created in this AU) are property of me. You can use them if you ask me, but I doubt you would want to. All quotes from the show are the property of their original writers. All song quotes are the property of whoever wrote them as well. All of this intellectual property which is not mine is used strictly for entertainment purposes, cos god knows I couldn't make money off of this if I tried.

Italicised sections are characters thoughts, dreams or notes. Most chapters start with a song or a poem, I know its a bit on the annoying, but this is the way it was originally presented. I appollogize for the chapters being so long, I will try to break them up where possible. This story starts out slow, but it gathers speed, so be patient. PLEASE review, Pretty Pretty please with Hot Pockets on top?

Summary: Okay, tihs is my Alt Universe Buffy Season 7 and Angel Season 4, in this world, Spike's bathroom scene did happen. Now before you flame me out, know that this is addressed in the story, so don't get your knickers in a bunch. This story takes place all over the world, and involves pretty much every Buffy character you can think of, cos I like them all. Some parts may be worthy of an R rating. Any sex will be done tastefully and not in some slashy way, well maybe kinda slashy. To start out: Spike is in Africa, Giles & Willow are in England, Dawn, Anya, Buffy & Xander are in SunnyD, Jonathon & Andrew are south of the border, Tara sadly is still dead. Basically I took the Season 7 premise Joss gave us, and did what I would have liked for him to do. I like the first evil as a Big Bad, I liked the idea of the potentials, just more as background than characters, I missed Faith, so I kinda did what I want. I hope you like it. Please review or email me, I'm always willing to chat up another Buffy fan. And now, on with the show...

Here, somewhere in the heart of me, There is still a part of me, That cares.
And I'll still take the best you've got, Even though I'm sure its not, The best for me.
When you're born a lover, You're born to suffer,
Like all soul sisters, And soul brothers.
I can see the danger signs, They only help to underline, Your beauty.
I'm not looking for an easy ride, True happiness cannot be tried, so easily.
You can take your time, I'll be waiting in line,
You don't even have to give me, The time of day.
When you're born a lover, You're born to suffer,
Like all soul sisters, And soul brothers.
-M. L. Gore, 'Goodnight Lovers'

"Hello?"

"Um, yes, is Rupert Giles available?" God, you sound like such a ponce! Keep it together; he'll know what to do.

"Well, yes, I will fetch him for you"

It was so odd to hear another familiar homespun accent. Giles and Dru had been the only connection to that familiar phrasing Spike had heard in years. Well, that was until it happened, now he heard lots of different accents, but none of them so real as this voice on the end of the line.

"This is Rupert Giles"

"Giles, mate, I need your help."

"Mate? Who is this? Spike? Spike is that you?"

"Um, yeah its me, sorry being all proper and the like. Right then. Some things happened, I need your help."

"Is Buffy, are things okay? What's going on in Sunnydale, Dawn didn't mention anything to Willow yesterday."

"Sunnydale? Oh, God I'm not in Sunnydale, so if there's trouble, this is one big bad you can count out"

"Well then, where are you?"

"Nairobi, Kenya I think it is, well it's in Africa anyways, you know, heart of darkness and all that bollocks. I need to get out of here."

"You called me for train fare?"

"There's more, lots more, not just 'Oh Giles gimme train fare'"

Giles could sense something change in his voice. Spike was serious, even afraid maybe, not like him at all.

"As I was saying, something's happened to me and I think you, the Council and the Scoobies will need to hear about it, in that order, as soon as possible. So can you get me to where you are or not? I don't have a lot of cash right now, if I did I'd be halfway there by now, or at least calling you from Cairo, Christ Giles I'm rambling."

Giles heard it again, fear, or maybe embarrassment, but something was different.

"Hold on Spike, let me see what I can do."

How long can I pull this off? My head is going to combust. Who's he talking to? Is that the witch? I think she tried to end the world, the whole sodding mess. Damn her, why can't she go through with even the simplest apocalypse? Damn, Giles might tell her its him, and she might tell Goldilocks, and now the whole thing will become a mess. A bloody stupid mess just like me. Why'd I think I could do this without her finding out? I mean word travels fast among the undead, but it travels faster in her circle than hell fire in a forest.

"Um, Spi..William. Sorry, Willow thinks I am talking to my brother, William. Right now. I have you on a train from Nairobi to Cairo leaving tonight, right after sun down. You will have a personal single room traveling coach in a car. You should be able to block out the African sun. Of all places for a vampire to go, I mean Africa's got the brightest, hottest sun on earth, it's a wonder you aren't..."

"A large pile of dust? Giles..."

"Yes, right, you will arrive in Cairo at sundown the following day. Be prepared though, nothing is guaranteed on time in Egypt, they're worse than just about anyone on earth with time. Yes you will need to take a cab to the Airport. Now I know you are broke, so when you get to the train station there will be a man waiting for you. He's a watcher like myself, and has been notified of your presence. He will have a passport and some cash for you. Don't spend it all on cigarettes and duty free whiskey."

"You watchers are better than the CIA, can you make me a birth certificate and fake baby foot prints too?"

"Shut up Spi..William. You will get on Egypt Air flight 317 to London Heathrow. It is a night flight; you will arrive in the middle of the night. Your ticket will be at the counter for you, under the name William Giles."

"Bloody hell, you really are taking this brother bit a bit too far mate. Do you even have a brother?"

"Well, No I don't but, pay attention. When your train arrives a woman will be there to pick you up. She will know who you are, don't worry. She's a witch, and she was headed here from London anyways to help the coven with Willow. She's been instructed to take vehicle precautions. It won't be luxurious but it will do."

"Giles, how does she know? I mean you were gone about 5 minutes and all of this is 'set up'. I mean your freaking me out a bit"

"Some of it is residual from when the coven tried to channel me to help Willow not destroy the world, there are certain skills I retained. Otherwise that Expedia dot com is bloody remarkable. Seems the internet is good for something. Just trust me it will all be fine"

"Giles, I need something else from you, this is important so listen up"

"Well yes, go ahead"

"You can't tell Buffy I am coming to see you, you can't tell any of her little chums, no one can know. When I come to see you Willow can't be there to see me, send her off with her cauldron sisters or something, but she can't know I am around, not at first anyways. Do you understand? This is a strictly you, me and all the people you have assisting me in my transportation to England. No one else can know."

"William, I mean, that's kind of brash, conspiracy theory and the like. What's wrong, maybe I can start working on it until you get here?

"Nothings wrong, its what's right that you need to know about. I have to go now. I will see you in a few days. I am going to head to the train station now, it'll be getting dark soon. Thank you Giles, I owe you."

"Right? Well fine I will see you in a few."

Nairobi stank. Not like garbage stinks, like fetid unwashed 19th century London's whore district stink. It smells of death and decay and excrement. It would have been refreshing in the past, but now it was only haunting him. It made all of this worse. The pain, and not the 'Ooo it hurts so good pain' more like the 'kill me quickly so it all ends in a single flash' pain was intense and difficult ot deal with. Even loving her hadn't hurt him this badly. He thought this might be the punishment for getting back his soul. He always thought the Poof looked a little worse for wear after he got his. At least Spike's didn't come with that whole 'one moment of true happiness' invalidity clause. It was the headaches that were the worst. They were full of screaming voices begging and pleading for him to stop, for his former self to stop, Spike wished he had.

Traveling through Nairobi by day wasn't nearly as difficult as it should have been. The markets, in alleys, were always dark, day or night. They were crawling with rats, and cats smaller than the rats, and the occasional skinny dog whelping. It was sickening. Not to mention it was not exactly a party to be a glow in the dark, paler than pale, white man here. The Shamans and Witch Doctors knew what he was, but they also knew what he has come to be: another vampire with a soul.

The Master would have been so disappointed if he knew what had become of the Order of Aurelius. Darla was dead, again. Drusilla, well god only knew where she was; she was probably sucking the life out of some poor chaos demon with tea parties and dollies right now. Angel the soul restored protector of the pathetic. And now Spike, William the fucking bloody, soul returned so he could go and pine after the slayer. How likely was it that not one but two of the Master's most vicious would turn all jelly legged and googly eyed for a silly girl with a bag of stakes and a birthright? Dru had known it. Dru could see it in him; she had never seen it in Angelus even when he wasn't evil. Angel's love wasn't as deep as this, as ancient, as set in his bones as it was for Spike. It was almost as if this were his fate, his destiny from the moment he was turned, to someday love the slayer. Not just any slayer though. He has offed two in his unlifetime, which was damn impressive! The first time he had seen Buffy she stirred something in him that hadn't been there for years. A lust for something more, sure blood, carnage, death and destruction were fun for the first 100 years, but after a while it all became so unsatisfying. Well, that and the damn chip. Not like he needed that anymore. He was too scared to kill a rat for a meal. Then again the rats here are of unusual size.

"You must be William the Bloody, also known as Spike?"

"What?" Spike was startled. He turned around to see where this booming voice had come from, and saw who could only be described as the African version of Giles. He wondered if the damn council gave them a dress code. Only this one was black, black as the night, but still stodgy and uptight.

"Oh, yeah, that's me. The terror of Europe, the big bad, grr arrg, be scared." Spike said unenthusiastically.

"I received Rupert's message. I am Samuel. Here are the items he requested I give to you. Sorry about the photo in the passport, it was the only one the Council had on file."

The photo was horrendous. It looked as though he was pissed out of his mind. The background was familiar, it looked like the cells in the Initiative's demon control center. This must have been the photo they took of him when he was captured. How in the hell did Giles get a hold of it?

"Actually Giles had a fellow email it to me, so I could put this together. Truly though, I have seen far worse by means of passport photos so you should be jolly well with this one."

"Well I don't know that I'll ever be 'jolly well' but it'll do."

In the back of the passport was approximately 100 pound Sterling. Enough to let him live like a king in damn Nairobi. He though that he should have called Giles sooner.

"Your train leaves in a half hour. Your ticket is at the counter up there. I also brought you this bag so you wouldn't look suspicious as a luggage-less passenger. There are some clothes and toiletries and a thick wool blanket for the window in here. Giles doesn't know how shoddy the damn blankets are on the trains here. You'd be dust in a few minutes if you relied on them. Now, I know you can't see yourself in a mirror, but you look quite awful. Your room on board has a washroom and loo attached. I made sure of it, I figured if you were desperate enough to contact Rupert, you must be in an awful state I wasn't wrong."

No wonder this guy was a watcher Spike thought. He was straight forward, no holds barred, and he had thought of everything! Maybe they should send him to Sunnydale, Buffy could use someone with this much forethought and planning.

"Right then. I should probably be going."

"Wait, Giles figured you hadn't eaten in a while either. He said you didn't sound right on the phone. There are two bags of pig blood in there as well. I know how hard a butcher shop is to come by here, well one which keeps the blood instead of letting it run into the street at least, so I hope this helps."

Now he really had thought of everything. Clothes, money, object to block murderous African sun, and now a meal! For a change Spike actually felt sort of happy. This was an odd, unfamiliar sensation.

"Wow, well I must say thanks, you've really taken care of everything. You wouldn't happen to have a pack of fags on you? That would certainly make you quite possibly the most remarkable human I have ever met."

"Sorry, I don't smoke, but there will be a dealer in the station that can probably assist you in that. How odd, a vampire that smokes objects, which could light him on fire and send him to an early dusting. Hmm, I'll have to make a note of that."

There's the watcher sense he had been looking for. Business was still first, all else was second.

"I take it you haven't met a lot of us. We do all sorts of destructive things to ourselves. Someone might think we had a death wish. We are dead, so that whole death wish thing takes on a whole new meaning."

There was the uncomfortable vampire-watcher silence he was looking for.

"I guess I should be going. I will tell Giles that you were very helpful and that he should..." God I suck at this "be very happy you are a watcher too. Um Good Bye"

When he turned around Samuel was already gone. Disappeared. Like me.

Cleopatras are the fungus demons of the cigarette world. They are about 4 steps past horrible and closer to 'did someone kill the guy who came up with these, or should I kill him?' bad. They tasted like dust. They were stale and sickening. There were shrubberies, which tasted better when smoked. These were disgusting, but it fulfilled that nagging 'addiction' to nicotine Spike thought he had. He did look awful; even the white folks were looking at him with glares and stares.

He hadn't slept in weeks. The sleeper/loo/bath room was nice. Too nice, he thought he didn't deserve something like this. Hopefully Giles didn't expect to be paid back. Maybe he could turn in the receipts to the Council for reimbursement. Why did he care? Damnit I am tough, I am scary, I am evil, and I am a complete ponce. I am pathetic. I am beyond pathetic. Spike handed the porter his ticket, locked the door and hid inside the confines of his room.

It had been weeks since he has been this confined in a space. For the first month he ran ragged through the caves by the sea where this all began. The locals had thrown carcasses into the caves. They thought they knew what he was. It was no matter. He ate nothing of it, and finally slunk off in the quiet of night with a group of tourist fisherpersons. Stupid tourists.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. The soul was supposed to come back, he was supposed to feel remorse for like a week, some pain some anguish, and then he was supposed to go on his merry way. Back to Sunnydale, back to her, rub her nose in what she done. Instead he could barely make it through a day or night without wanting his own death. Spike thought he knew pain when she was dealing it out, no, that was kittens compared to this.

Like many things in Nairobi the train looked nice, but underneath, it was really only swill. Yes there was a bath, yes there was water, but this bathwater was cold and brown. It would do, but it would only satisfy on the basest level of necessity. In the bag from the watcher was a small bottle of hotel shampoo and soap. Also in there was a clean black tee shirt and black pants. A bath was in order.

The watcher wasn't wrong. Based on the color of the water after his wash, with it being even dirtier than when he got in, that being a feat in itself, he must have been filthy. His hair had grown out significantly. It was almost down to his ears, much the length it was when Spike was originally turned. He so wished he could see it; it must have looked very reverse skunk. He was too afraid to see a barber in Kenya. It was too risky. Plus Spike couldn't just kill him afterwords like he would have been able to do in the past, so word surely would have gotten out about the man who cast no refleciton. In Europe and even Sunnydale there were places a demon or vampire could go in for a nice trim and a bit of conversation. Some demons were even unusually skilled at the barber trade and could completely change a look to put you in hiding. Some even were kind enough to keep around Polaroid cameras to take photos of the work they did, so vamps could check it out. But not in Kenya, not in Africa, you couldn't even get simple hair bleach.

Spike considered burning his clothes. They were a mess. The smell alone was enough to frighten off evil. He thought it was funny that when all of you reeks you did't seem to notice it. Throwing them out the window was the only solution. Good Riddance. The belt had to stay though, as it didn't smell. The pants were quite nice actually, snappy even.

He finally decided to confront the dark mistress who taunted him so. The little bitch chided him constantly. If Spike didn't sleep he would only get worse, and he knew he really didn't need to scare the living daylights out of Giles. The last time he slept was at least 2 weeks ago, and even then it wasn't really sleep. Undressed and freshly clean he put the blanket over the cheap tatters of curtain. The watcher even packed some tape to secure the blanket so it wouldn't shift and dust him. Genius.

In the folds of the blanket it was there. He could smell it: sweet, tempting blood. Swine tasted remarkably like human. It was so close that it wasn't a shame to survive off of pig's blood if you had to. It was almost warm from the protection of the blanket. The first bag he gingerly sucked back. He was anticipating the overwhelming feeling of the suffering of this victim. Humans were animals, they suffered, they haunted, so why not a stupid pig? Most pigs were smarter then a good lot of humans anyways. The haunting had not come and the second bag beckoned. Shooting back the second bag he felt satisfied for once. The strength pored into him and reminded him how badly he needed the rest. It was easier to walk around half starved, a zombie like existence kicked in after a week. But now Spike needed sleep.

"Ha Ha! William the bloody awful poet!"

"Wait Charles, Wait, What rhymes with ephemeral? Ha ha ha!"

"Oooo Cecily your poet awaits!"

"If you are lucky dear he will just drive a railroad spike through your head rather than make you suffer his words!"

They roared with laughter. They were my friends. Maybe they were my friends, it has been so long that I can't really remember. But if it hadn't been for her none of this would have happened. It rang through my ears "you are beneath me" it haunted me, chased me, controlled me. Damn Cecily, she had it coming. She drove me to that stable; she drove me to darkness, to the darkness, which would eventually consume her.

I had just been turned. Angelus, Darla and Drusilla were all there. Dru claimed to be my sire, but I knew differently it was Angelus. He turned me to get her off his back. Dru needed a plaything that would be easy to control. Was he wrong. They let me go and kill my first out of vengeance. That only made me hungrier.

"William, William is that you..? By heavens, however did you get Oh lord, Oh dear Lord! We shall all burn!"

The kitchen maid had let me in. By the time Cecily found me, I was vamped out, for the first time in my new existence.

"What Cecily? Can't stand to look what you drove me to? This is your fault! Am I still beneath you now? Tell me, for I am immortal now. You will die, your corpse will fade, but I will be forever! You are beneath me now!"

"William, I never meant what I said, please just go, and no one will ever have to know."

"You are right my dear Cecily. No one will ever know who or what did this to you, but they may have a clue. I am William the Bloody, and will be my first. You could have been my first in other more human ways, but I was too beneath you for that now wasn't I?"

"Please no! Don't I am sorry! Please forgive me I am repentant!"

"Keep begging Cecily, beg until your last breath escapes you, and then beg all the heavens for forgiveness. They know it's your fault, GOd knows what you did, and he can't save you now. You made this demon my sweet!"

"No, please God will forgive me, and you! Just please don't!"

She had by now seen the corpse on the floor. Her kitchen maid was there. Sucked dry, neck ripped open, but not by me. Dru and Darla had a taste for servants and they fulfilled their hunger happily. Angelus and them were throughout the house eating the residents, and looting whatever they could find.

"Cecily, if you scream I will leave, just keep screaming." A wicked smile passed crossed my lips. I could see the vein just below the skin, pushing all those little cells throughout her body. I felt a hunger deep within me that I knew only she could satisfy.

"Please, Ahhhhhhhh"

The screaming stopped when she died. It was then that I learned how much more fulfilling it would be when they fought back, but that wasn't enough for me this time. I wanted them to know who did this. The railroad spike was the finishing touch, straight through her temples. This would show them. She was the first of many, of my 'friends.'

She was back now. I never turned her, but clear as day she stood there. Thought eternity was too good a gift to the little cunt. It was all her fault, but now I plead with her; I am the one begging forgiveness. Her screams rage through my mind. Her screams, not of fear now, but of anger and hate radiated through my dreams. I can do nothing about it.

"DAMNIT CECILY! I am sorry. How many times do I have to tell you? I am so sorry please forgive me. I need redemption! I only wanted you to know how it felt to be nothing. I didn't do this to you, the monster did, but he's gone now so please forgive me..."

Sir! Sir! Are you all right? Wake up! My God, I think he is dead!"

The porters were in his room now. Shaking him. I am dead but you wouldn't know it from the way I walk and talk!

"What? Get out of here! Can't you read the bloody door? Do Not Disturb! That means don't come into the room! Stupid gits."

"But sir, you were screaming, t-t-he other passengers were concerned that something was wrong."

"Everything is wrong, but that's not their issue. Get out. I don't care if it sounds like the goddamn inquisition is going on in here you leave me be!"

They left. This was why Spike hadn't gotten any sleep. The nightmares, the screams, their screaming, the pain of knowing what you were. He was terrified they would see him vamp out. He didn't get bumpy so often now. It took a lot of rage to trigger it. And the only person Spike could get that kind of anger about was himself.

He could feel by the heat radiating off the blanket that it was day. He couldn't wander the coaches. Too risky. After his little performance he didn't think the man who's flesh smokes in sunlight would be such a hit. Spike couldn't go back to sleep. This soul bullshit was getting old fast.

Spike rifled through the bag the watcher had packed. If he was such a genius to pack the tape and shampoo maybe he stuck a book in there, a newspaper, anything to pass the time. Ha! Toothbrush and toothpaste! That's a kick! Apparently it's not in any of the vampire information libraries that vamps don't need to brush their pearly whites. Bacteria can't live in them, viruses can't live in them, and neither should their souls.

In the bottom of the bag were a few more things. A pair of boxers, apparently Slayer hadn't told ol' Giles everything about their little affair. No need for those, don't wear 'em. A wife beater tank and black button down shirt were two things Spike would wear so they could stay. He chucked the tooth accessories into the trash with the boxers. Under the shirt there was a note, 2 pills and a book.

Spike:
If you can't sleep here are 2 sleeping pills, one for the train, and one for the plane. I don't know if they work on vampires, not a lot of information available on personal hygiene and toxicology of vamps. Buffy mentioned you were some sort of poet, and that she always caught you reading so here is a generic anthology of verse. It might help pass the time. You sounded distressed on the phone, please relax we are preparing for your arrival. Be well, and please don't kill any flight attendants.
-Giles

That man was everywhere. Any rate, the pills would work and the book was perfect. Of course they were horse pills, and even with his antibacterial status he couldn't bring himself to drink the swill water. Breaking one into pieces Spike swallowed it back. The pills were temporary salvation; they would stop the nightmares, and put him into a black, dreamless sleep.