A/N: Yes, I am alive. Yes, I'm sorry for taking so long to update. Writer's block is the devil. I've been trying to bring myself to finish this, and ... have not been having any luck. I swore to myself I'd finish this chapter before uploading any of the other random fanfic I've been writing in my spare time, though, and um ... here it is?

And it will be finished. This thing will be finished even if it kills me. Might take half of forever, updates will probably be slow as molasses, but ... I know people like this, and so I'm going to finish it, if only for you guys.

"Spike Williams?" I asked, looking at the files. "That's a weird name."

"Even weirder," Erin stated, "is that there are inconsistencies in the files." She pointed. "It states that his father's name was Angel Aurelius, and his mother was Drusilla Williams."

"Maybe he changed his name cuz he hated his old man."

"Possibly, especially since – get this – the files say Drusilla Williams and Angel Aurelius were never married. According to what I found, Angel married Darla Aurelius – no maiden name stated. And that's just the beginning – the entire family tree is a whole convoluted mess."

"Isn't everybody's?" I asked.

"Not like this."

We both stared at the holographic file.

"This is impossible," I declared.

"Tell me about it. The file also says that Drusilla Williams is Angel Aurelius's daughter, and that –"

"No, not that," I said. "Look at the stats ... there's no DOB. Or rather, there is, but it doesn't include a year. The file says he's currently twenty-eight, sure, but ... don't they usually include a year in the DOB?"

Erin stared. "I ... I didn't catch that. That is odd."

"Yeah," I agreed. "And look – no year on the DOBs of his family, no year on the date her legalized that coat of his, no year on – anything."

We paused, staring at the file in new light.

"I can figure out the years," Erin said at last, "but I'd need to run a cross-check on some of these things, mainly the legalization of the leather jacket. I can run the serial number through the system, see what it turns up."

"Okay," I said, "until then, what?"

"How about I buy you a few drinks?"

I stared. "Wow, Erin, that's almost ... sisterly."

Erin rolled her eyes. "Do you want to go to Ama and Jove's tav?"

"No," I said automatically, thinking of Loo. "Yes," I amended – how was I going to get past this grief gig I was hung up on if I wasn't even willing to talk to Ama and Jove? "Maybe. I dunno. Should laws even go to a tav in this area?"

"Just don't get into fights, and we'll be fine."

The girl turned her head toward the door slowly as she heard it swing open. The people who'd taken her here – Ama and Jove? – didn't even turn at the sound. People came in all day, and deep down, the girl knew why, but she couldn't remember. It was frustrating.

The man who stepped in ... that she remembered. She remembered him. He was ... she couldn't remember his name. He was someone she remembered.

His hair was longer. And had blue on the edges. She found that odd. His hair was supposed to be short ...

The coat was the same, though. New patches, maybe. But it was the coat.

What was his name again ...?

She's yelled at him. Shut him out. She couldn't remember why. Sister. It had something to do with Sister. But what? Sister was ... who was Sister again? It was so long ago. Too long.

"Hey," she called out, but it didn't sound right. Too quiet. Too rough.

He heard anyway and turned toward her.

"Hey, li'l bit," he said shortly before turning away again.

That reminded her ...

"Spike."

He turned back, surprised. "What?"

"Spike. You're Spike."

He stared. "Who are you?"

She frowned. "I can't remember."