Disclaimer: They're all mine! Who's going to stop me from claiming them as my own? Joss Whedon (et al) and their lawyers? Hah! I scoff at your logical and reasonable conclusion!

Last time, on Crushed: Willow and Tara found a spell that would replicate any item from the past and place it in the present. They planned to use this spell to summon a book, destroyed and hidden by demons many, many years ago that may have information on Glory and/or the Key. Unfortunately, Spike and Giles' argument about Spike loving Buffy, and Spike accidentally touching a cross and spilling some holy water on his thigh, broke Willow's concentration. Poor Spike, he takes such a beating...

Magical whiplash

Spike was an annoyed vampire. Very annoyed. Furious, even. The list of reasons as to why was long. Buffy, Dru leaving, Buffy, the sodding chip in his brain, Buffy, the stupid git Watcher, Buffy, stupid bloody crosses and holy water, Buffy, stupid sodding de-invite spells... did he mention Buffy?

Problem was, he loved her. Not that she could see that. Her and her high and mighty friends turn their noses up at him when he has feelings, but as soon as they need some extra muscle or a handy bloody meat puppet, Good Ole Spike is more than man enough for them then.

And now Spike couldn't even stop by and see Joyce and the Nibblet. Those birds were all right. Not his Buffy, but they were more part of her life than anyone else and it made him feel good to be friends with them. If the Watcher knew about the 'chain-Buffy-to-the-wall-until-she-admits-there-may-be-something-between-them' plan, then Buffy had sure as hell told her mum.

The plan, -which had been stupid, Spike was man enough to admit it- had backfired in the worst possible way. At least before he had threatened to feed Buffy to Dru -and Spike still didn't see what was so bad about that. Ok, sure, he'd offered to feed Buffy to his ex, but he was going to kill Drusilla if all Buffy had said was maybe, maybe, some day in the far distant future there might have been a thing- he could have hung around her precious bloody Scoobies and the Bit, occasionally even her mum.

Then he goes and embarrasses himself in front of the Watcher and the demon-girl. What kind of master vampire was he? He tripped over his shoelaces, -his bloody shoelaces! - braced himself against a cross and then falls back and knocked a vial of holy water onto himself.

Only reason the pathetic old man Watcher hadn't thrown him out was the massive shockwave that knocked half the things of the shelves in the shop. Luckily, no more holy water landed on him.

While Spike had been busy extricating himself from the mess of frog's eyes and chickens feet, the Watcher had run over to the training room and put his head inside. Then the Watcher had started muttering quiet 'Oh dear God" and 'Oh dear Lord" over and over. When the Watcher had told the demon girl to call Buffy and tell her to come over immediately, Spike decided to make himself scarce.

While he'd give almost anything just to watch Buffy, he wouldn't quite give his life at this stage. She'd probably stake him good and proper if she saw him before she'd had time to cool off. Like, four months to cool off.

Spike wondered briefly how Harmony was doing, then shook his head in disgust. No way was he that desperate. He'd just go find something to kill, instead.

Buffy was on her way to the Magic Box. Giles had called, interrupting serious mother-daughter-sister bonding time (there had even been ice cream involved!) and he expected her to come running just because he stutters Dear Lord...

Walking through the door, Buffy felt her anger drain away completely. The place was absolutely wrecked, and there was a really bad smell. The whole place smelled like burnt flesh that had tried to be covered by really cheap deodorant.

Stepping through the wreckage on the floor, Buffy head towards the training room where she heard voices. The smooth, mellow tones of Giles accent and the harsh, clipped intonations of Anya let Buffy know they were okay.

"So, Giles. What's with the big mystery? I mean, what couldn't wait until tomo- huh?" The tiny blonde trailed off at the sight of Anya and Giles fussing over Willow, Tara and some guy. "Are Willow and Tara okay, Giles? What happened? Who's that guy? What's going on here?" she began to ramble through her worry.

Giles straightened and started to clean his glasses. He turned his head to check on the three figures stretched out on the training mats before letting out a sigh.

"Willow and Tara were attempting to do a difficult spell, that -if successful- would have summoned a book that possibly have information about Glory and the Key. Unfortunately, something went wrong with the spell and instead of summoning the book it has summoned... him."

"Okay, so that's what happened. Will they be okay? Do we need to help this guy get home? Help me out here Giles." Giles looked incredibly uncomfortable.

"Willow and Tara should be fine, although they shouldn't be casting any more spells for at least a few days. And the spell that brought this man here is a little more complicated than a simple transportation spell." At Buffy's impatient look, Giles decided that he should keep it short and sweet. "Basically, the spell created a copy of something from the past and brought it to the user, rather than risk altering history by bringing the item itself from the past."

Buffy nodded absently, looking at the man passed out on the floor. He was wearing really old-fashioned clothes or he was the saddest person alive. His hair was light brown and shaped kind of like a mushroom. He had charming little wire-rimmed glasses as well. He had a slight build and was maybe a touch on the short side. Peering closely at the mans face, Buffy gasped.

"Giles? What the hell is Spike doing in here, and what happened to his hair?"

Willow felt awful. Truly awful. Like someone had beaten her senseless with a giant boot. And then did something to make her really dizzy. It was worse than the time she had resouled Angel. She felt like she'd been turned inside out, rubbed across sandpaper then put back inside in.

Stirring slightly and groaning loudly, Willow opened her eyes. It was a mixed blessing. On the down side, her migraine now had the element of painful light burning her brain, but on the plus side Willow could see Tara. Tara who was looking a bit exhausted, but Tara with all her bits and pieces still attached.

"Hey there, sweetie" Tara whispered, seemingly aware of the pain Willow was in. Giving her lover a warm smile, Tara helped Willow sit up. The redhead noticed that they were in their dorm room. Giving Tara a quizzical glance Willow sipped at the water that was on the bedside table. Noticing Willow's look, Tara answered the unasked question. "Buffy and Giles brought us here last night. After the spell, I mean."

"Di- did the spell work?" Willow asked in a hoarse voice, not wanting to have disappointed Buffy when things were so hard for her. Tara looked torn, slightly confused and very tired.

"Well, yes and no. The spell did work, but not the way we wanted." At Willow's horrified look, Tara hastily continued." Oh, it's nothing bad. We don't think. We're not sure. We didn't summon a copy of the book from the past. We think we summoned Spike, before he was turned."

Willow was so stunned she didn't even react when her nose started bleeding, a side effect of overusing magic.

"Where ib he?" Willow asked through the tissue being held to her face to halt the bleeding.

"Buffy and Giles tied him up in Giles' lounge room. You know, because Spike was probably a killer or something before he was turned, if he was this evil after. At least, that's what Buffy said."

William woke suddenly, as though someone had splashed water on him. He was shocked to find himself chained at the hand and foot. Clearly he had been struck on the back of the head at some stage last night, and he was now being held hostage for ransom.

This led William to worry about his mother. His last memory before waking up was reading some of his poetry to his mother. They wouldn't have killed his mother if they were holding him for ransom, so she must be fine. Perhaps she screamed and one of the servants or neighbours came and helped her.

Looking around the room he was in, William found himself sitting on a very odd couch. There were books lying around the room, so even if his kidnappers were vile criminals they were at least civilised enough to realise the value of books. In the corner there was what looked to be a box with a sheet of black glass on it, and silver circles on one side.

The rest of what he could see without his glasses on was just an assortment of odd items, many of which he did not recognise. Struggling to sit up, William gave it up for a lost cause when he found he was not strong enough to move the chains more than a few inches at a time from this angle.

"Um, excuse me?" he called out in a wavering tone, unsure as to whether he wanted his captors to come or not. He gave another start when he heard soft footsteps behind him. He was not sure what he had expected of a captor, but it was certainly not this seemingly distinguished gentleman with glasses. Although his clothes were incredibly odd. Blue pants made of an unknown material and a shirt open, revealing his undershirt. Clearly this man was not a gentleman, to come even before a captive while not completely dressed.

"Am I to be ransomed? What do you wish to achieve by my kidnapping?" William asked in, what he thought, was a firm, even voice. In actuality, he sounded scared, the upper class English accent revealing his emotional state more than he would have liked.

"You are not kidnapped, precisely." the elderly man suggested. William's relief was enormous. At least this man came from England, and not an uncivilised place like Australia or some other minor colony. "But this story is going to be hard for you to believe. It might be best if you stay as you are until I am finished." William allowed the man a cautious nod.

"For you to understand how you came to be here, there are several things you have to know about first. Magic, demons, vampires and the like are very real." William nodded, humouring this obviously unstable man. He had managed to be kidnapped by a madman. "And the other thing is, you are no longer in your time at all."

William blinked, obviously confused. He wished he was wearing his glasses so he could see his captors face more clearly. Perhaps this was all a joke? Only, William didn't have any friends who made jokes like this. Okay, so he didn't have any friends at all, but still.

"What year do you think it is?" the man across from William asked. Giving the man an incredulous look William responded.

"It is 1880, the year of our Lord. Sir, is there a point to your ramblings? I must get home and see to my mother. She is sickly, you understand." William was gambling that this insane man was not dangerous. He had not done anything to indicate he was planning to harm William, and normally William would not even take a chance this large, but he had to see to his mother. Who else was going to look after her?

"I'm afraid that is not exactly correct. Actually, that is very far from correct. The year is 2001, and you are now in America. A spell went wrong, and we accidentally summoned you." William stared at the man warily. Clearly, he was absolutely crazy to think William daft enough to believe a magic spell took him 121 years into the future.

William opened his mouth to express that very point when the British man dropped a newspaper in front of him. His eyes bulged as he read the date. 2001. The man might not be as crazy as William had thought, if he was going to such elaborate lengths to convince him that this was the future. The man let out a sigh.

"I can see you don't believe me. Look at this." the man said, heading over to the odd cube with the black glass. Doing something to one of the silver circles on the side of the glass, he stepped back as images, people, appeared on the glass. They were talking to each other.

"That's amazing!" William expressed in awe. "This is... magic?" He stared avidly at the figures moving across the screen. His eyes flicked over to the wizard who made this happen only to see him smiling and shaking his head.

"That is not magic, I'm afraid. It is television. It is like a playhouse that almost everyone has in their own house. It is technology, completely manmade. Although it could be argued that it has certain hypnotic qualities, there is nothing magical in it's nature. Times have changed a great deal since you were born."

"So I see." William stated quietly, no longer doubting this mans word. He shifted in his seat only to be pulled short by the chains again. "Umm, would it be too much trouble to have you take these off me?" he asked in an almost pathetically hopeful tone. Giles blinked for a moment, then rushed over to the young mans aid.

"Yes of course, it appears my manners have been quite remiss. I am Rupert Giles." the older Englishman stated, extending a hand for William to shake. William stared at it blankly for a moment, no one back home ever offered him even this simple courtesy, then tentatively shook Giles' hand.

"It's very nice to meet you, Rupert. I am William-" the young man was cut off by the front door swinging open loudly. A small blonde was walking through in a hurry.

Buffy rapidly shifted through the opening area of Giles' apartment, intent on reaching the kitchen to put the ice cream her mom had made her promise to bring Giles. Buffy wasn't sure why her mom was sending Giles ice cream, she seriously hoped it wasn't some old person sex thing. It was bad enough knowing they had sex once, no twice before, during that whole Band Candy debacle, but to think of them having future sex was just oogy.

"Hey Giles. Just putting away some ice cream my mother said she was giving you. Has our guest woken up yet?" she asked, wandering out of the little kitchenette, only to see Spike - William, she reminded herself harshly, he's a human - putting on a pair of glasses. He took one look at her, his face reddened and he instantly spun about.

"I- I- I'm dreadfully sorry. I didn't realise that you- well, that you were- I'm so very sorry." the human who had become Spike stuttered and blushed. Buffy was having a very hard time connecting the blushing, shy young man with such a Giles-like accent with the hard, arrogant, downright rude vampire with a coarse, lower class British accent.

"You're sorry? For what? What am I? Have I got something on my shirt?" Buffy asked, only vaguely worried when she realised that the third possibility she mentioned might actually be true. She had walked all the way from her house to Giles with that ice cream, and it was pretty hot outside.

"You are in your underthings, and I was looking at you. I am incredibly sorry, I hadn't realised you and Mr. Giles were married, or that you were prone to wandering the house undressed." William stuttered, fairly obviously still blushing if the back of his neck were any indication. As his words sank in, Buffy's search for an ice cream spot ceased immediately.

"You think that Giles and I are married?" she asked incredulously before starting to giggle at the absurdity of it. Giles, who had been preening over the fact William thought him young enough for a bride like Buffy, looked mildly indignant that she found the concept so funny.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I didn't expect anyone of your profession-" William began, still studiously staring at the wall.

"My profession? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Buffy cut in sharply, her face expressing her absolute rage. What kind of arrogant, judgemental, narrow-minded ass thought she was a prostitute just because she was wearing her tight jeans and her favourite strappy shirt? All of a sudden the connection between Spike and this not-quite-Spike became much easier to see.

"William," Giles cut in quickly, before the situation got worse. "please remember that this is a different time to what you are used to. Women no longer wear those elaborate dresses. In fact, many women wear things considerably more revealing than what Buffy is wearing. I'm afraid it is just one of many things you will have to get used to."

Buffy felt some of her anger -but not all. A prostitute! Really. What was he thinking?- drain away as the young man turned around to face her, his expression deeply mortified. His eyes darted up to meet hers and then shied away, obviously too insecure to look her in the face and just as clearly too Victorian to look at her body.

"I'm dreadfully sorry I was so presumptuous. It is just unheard of for women in my time to wear such revealing clothes, but it was incredibly rude of me to assume the worst like I did. Please, forgive me." he said, his face still red and getting worse with every glance he flicked towards her body. Buffy smiled.

"Forgiven. Now let's start again. I'm Buffy" she said, extending her hand for him to shake. He just looked at it for a split second before flicking an incredulous look at Buffy, before taking her hand gently in his own.

"I'm William. It's a pleasure to meet you, Buffy" he murmured, brining the back of her hand to his lips for a gentle kiss.