Spike and Willow had talked about this on Saturday night. They were going to go to the church services with the Bells because they figured they would be expected to go. The Bells, the Youngs, and the Walkers were all Anglo-Irish and thereby Protestant and Spike and Willow figured they should probably appear Protestant as well.

So they got up early, got cleaned up as best they could with a bucket of well water and some soap he nicked from the house. He considered it a good thing that Willow didn't get on his case about the stolen soap. Since she was talentless at getting her hair pulled back, he did it for her, showing her a skill he had picked up because of Drusilla. Since she couldn't see herself in a mirror it was his job to keep her hair styled in the pretty fashions she liked. It took some pulling but he got Willow's short locks into something that resembled a bun. It just took every single last pin that Mary Young had given Willow to do it. He also had to tie her up in her corset. This was becoming a morning routine for them.

He would have still been wearing his clothes from 1998 except that Arlen had given him a little bit of money yesterday and told him to go get some clothes. It was enough for one outfit and Spike was going to keep it as his Sunday clothes and work in his modern clothes during the week. He also didn't like the idea of having to wear these clothes more than he had to. The pantaloons alone were enough to make him want to gag. Whatever made men think these were fashionable? And now he was getting a taste of what Willow talked about with the shoes. He had forgotten how uncomfortable shoes used to be.

"Bloody Indians had it right with moccasins," he muttered to Willow as he took his first few steps in his new shoes.

Willow giggled. "Tell me about it. Why couldn't your item have been an Indian bead? The clothes alone would have been more comfortable."

He chuckled. "I'm sure you would have loved being scalped by Indians, pet."

"I think with our healing powers and you being able to move so fast, we would have been worshiped as gods if we played our cards right," she said buttoning the last of the many buttons on her dress.

"The language barrier would have been a real treat," he pointed out.

"We would have learned," she insisted. "Now church. I'm Jewish... I have no idea what to do in church."

He waved her off. "When I was human and went to church we just sat there and tried not to fall asleep while the pastor talked."

"Good, so long as it won't be too difficult."

It was a rare moment of them getting along.

People were staring at them when they got to the church. He figured it had to do with his hair. For these times he knew it stood out. It was too short and the color was something that wasn't even remotely natural looking so he was sure that people couldn't help but stare.

The singing was a little bit of a problem. There were no hymnals and neither he nor Willow knew any of the songs so they stood there and listened. It was a little awkward and the Bells looked at them a little strangely at those times. They expected them to know the songs. And they really expected them to know the prayers. Spike and Willow mumbled incoherently during those so it appeared that they knew them.

After the services, Willow and Spike were dragged to meet the pastor, a young man with curly black hair and a thick London accent. He knew both of them before they were even introduced.

"You must be the Jones couple I've heard about, William and Willow," said the pastor with his hand outstretched to Spike. "I'm Pastor Gregory."

Spike shook his hand and avoided looking at his cross. "Nice to meet you. Lovely services." He hadn't really been paying attention but it seemed like the thing to say.

"Thank you. I was so sorry to hear about your circumstances. These must be very trying times for you."

"We'll get through," Spike said. He didn't like the pity in the man's voice. It made Spike want to rip his jugular out, but he had his pocket conscience on his arm and knew he couldn't do it.

Damn this all to hell.

XxXx

Willow showed up for her first day of work at the Walker house bright and early and prepared to work. She planned on being very patient with the children and putting everything she learned about dealing with even the most difficult child to task. For two full years she babysat the Miles twins. She was twelve when she started that job and she only stopped doing it because her parents felt that she should be paying closer attention to her studies. She figured if she could get Jeremy to eat broccoli and Shane to stand under a shower and use soap, she could do anything. She felt fully capable of the task in front of her. All it would take was getting to know the children.

And the first half of the day was relatively easy. It was keeping three-year-old Evan from dying while teaching six-year-old Alice to read with marked moments of having to soothe seven-month-old Grace.

But then the world came crashing down around her when a familiar face walked into the kitchen while she was feeding the children lunch.

Angel.

Or rather, the human Liam walked in. He looked exactly like he did in her time with the exception of the hair. She made it a point not to stare at him though it was hard. It was so strange to see him in the stream of daylight pouring in through the window. He looked hung over.

She was having a hard time getting Evan to eat his lunch. As it turned out, Evan didn't like potatoes and this was a problem because everything was made with potatoes in Ireland at this time. Willow was already really sick of potatoes and felt bad for having to force the poor kid to eat them.

"If you promise to tell him a story later, you might have a better chance getting him to eat," Liam said casually, as he served himself a plateful of food.

"Story!" Evan exclaimed excitedly.

"Yes, Evan, I'll tell you a story if you eat everything on your plate." Willow looked over at Liam. "Thank you. I wasn't sure what I was going to do."

"Anything I can do for a pretty lady," he smiled at her lasciviously. "I'm Liam."

"Willow, it's nice to meet you." She now concentrated on feeding Grace her mashed up potatoes.

"Are you married, Willow?"

"As a matter of fact, I am." Willow spooned food into the baby's mouth.

"Then I'll just have to work extra hard to win you away from your husband." He finally started eating his food.

All afternoon, Liam bothered her with empty compliments and stared at her while she tried to deal with the children and ignore him. She just wanted to get back to Spike and discuss this new wrinkle in their lives. Worried that she was already altering history just by meeting the man that was going to become Angel, her nerves were on edge until Liam left to go out for the evening.

It was at the tail end of sunset when Spike showed up to walk her back to the Bell farm. It wouldn't have been proper for her to have been walking so late by herself.

As soon as they were a safe distance away from the Walker house Willow whispered to Spike. "This is Angel's house. What the hell am I supposed to do? I can't quit. Mary would never recommend me for another job again. She might even make it hard for me to get a job. But I could be messing with history here. This is a complete disaster."

Spike put an arm around her shoulders. "We could always go with my plan. It would be the quickest way out of town. We rob a couple of people, steal a horse and we're gone."

Willow considered her options. She didn't like any of them, but the one that sounded least offensive was the one where she just continued to work and then headed off Angel in the future and told him that the Willow he was going to meet wasn't really her. It seemed like a good plan. She didn't think it would alter the timeline all that much, so her mind was made up. "No robbing people. I'll just stick it out and deal with Liam and then when we get close to 1997 we'll just hunt Angel down and tell him what's up, so things don't get spaztastic."

"His name is Liam?" Spike laughed. "I never knew."

"What's so funny?" Willow asked lost as to the humor of a name.

"We're both Williams." Spike barely got the words out for laughing so hard.

She didn't understand why Spike found this as funny as he did. It was only slightly amusing. But his laughter was contagious and soon she was laughing too.

XxXx

Over the next few months, Willow had hoped that Liam's attentions would wane, but she was sorely mistaken. The longer she resisted him, the harder he tried.

At the moment she was giving little one-year-old Grace a bath and he was staring at her with lust in his eyes. Willow simply focused on her task and ignored him. Grace needed a bath almost daily because she made such a mess when she ate. Alice tried to help get the food into Grace without it becoming part of her clothes, but had no luck. (It was Alice's way of avoiding eating foods she didn't like.) This was while Willow was trying to convince Evan to eat anything at all, because even bribing him with promises of stories didn't always work.

"I'd love to give you a bath," Liam said in a voice sticky like honey.

"It's late. Aren't you going to go out tonight?" Willow asked icily.

"Why would I want to go out, when I have such a lovely view right here?"

She ignored him and took little Grace out of the bath and wrapped her in a towel.

"Wi-o!" Grace exclaimed. It was as close as she could get to saying Willow's name. She looked at her older brother and giggled, "Ee," at him.

Willow patted the little girl dry and while she was doing that, Liam stole one of her hairpins.

"Stop that."

"No." He stole another and then another until her hair fell out of the once careful, tight, and small bun it had been in. "You'll have to explain to me what happened to your hair. It's so dreadfully short."

Seeing an opening to shut him up, Willow said, "My husband likes it this way. Now can I have my pins back please?" She held her hand out to him while in the other arm she held his little sister.

With a smile meant to charm her, he put the pins in her hand, making sure that his fingers lingered on her palm. She put the pins in her pocket and then went about getting Grace dressed. Once Grace was placed securely in her crib, Willow did her best at trying to pin her hair back up. Usually, Spike did this for her in the morning. She had no talent for using these infernal hairpins.

It was almost time for her to go home, she was just waiting for Spike to come and get her like he normally did. When he showed up she could tell by the look on his face that something was wrong.

"Willow, sweetie, I have to go back the Hughes, but I have an errand for you to run," Spike said loud enough for Liam to hear but then he drew her close and whispered in her ear. "Darla's in town, we almost missed her. She's due to leave tomorrow so if she's going to turn Liam here she has to do it tonight. At the moment she's in Kieran's Inn."

This alarmed Willow. She didn't realize they were that close to when Liam got turned. Nor did she realize that by being here she had interfered that greatly in the timeline. Hopefully they hadn't missed their window. Willow was the one touting the line that they couldn't kill or save anyone because it could severely alter history. The last thing she wanted was to return to the future and find a nuclear winter or that penicillin never got invented. It would pain her since she had gotten close with people destined to die, but that was how it had to be.

Spike handed her an envelope and kissed her on the forehead before leaving. She looked at the envelope and saw that it was addressed to the Nolans. That would take her to right next to Kieran's Inn.

"Liam, I have to go all the way to the Nolan's. Would you mind escorting me?" she asked demurely.

It was evident that this request surprised Liam, but then he smiled. "Of course, Willow. I'd be happy to escort you to the Nolan's."

The walk to the Nolan's house was uneventful. Liam seemed smug to have Willow on his arm, but for a switch made few comments. He compared her to the beautiful night, but was about as sincere as a used cars salesman.

After she dropped the letter off at the Nolan's, Willow made a point of commenting, "I'm parched."

Liam smiled a greasy smile, and outstretched an arm toward the inn. "Kieran's is right here. I'd be happy to buy you something to drink."

"Thank you, Liam, that's very kind of you," Willow said heading for the door of the inn that doubled as a tavern.

It was mostly men inside the tavern. The women that were there were just the two bar wenches that served the customers and Darla sitting off to the side by herself watching everything. Willow was astounded by her beauty. There was no doubt that when Liam saw her, he would forget completely about Willow, of that Willow was certain. The place was loud with men shouting and singing to the minstrels that were playing in the corner.

Liam guided her to sit at a table and he ordered wine for her and ale for himself when the voluptuous wench came to take their order. He gave the matron a grin and told her, "There will be something special for ya if ya hurry." And he winked at her.

This would have been rude behavior in 1998, but for these times it was scandalous. But then it was rather scandalous for a married woman to be sitting in a tavern with another man. Only Willow and Spike were aware of the fact that they weren't really married everyone else in town thought that they were the nice but strange couple from America.

While they drank, Liam was going on about how he was the oldest and he was going to inherit everything from his father. All the land and the business, like this would impress Willow.

Willow however knew she needed to figure out a way to get his attentions off of her and onto Darla, so she smiled and said, "But if you don't help with the business now, you won't know how to run it when he dies and it would no doubt whither and die under you as a result."

Liam frowned. "And what would a woman know about running a business?"

"More than a man who puts no effort into it," she shot back. She was about to point out Darla when Spike entered the tavern.

"I expected you straight home!" He grabbed her by the arm and started to drag her away. "What do you think you're doing here with him?"

Willow reacted like any girl from 1998 would. She pulled herself out of Spike's grasp and yelled at him. "What do you think you're doing grabbing me like that?"

Spike backhanded her across the cheek and then grabbed her by the hair and started dragging her out of the tavern. "You don't talk to me like that!"

She was sure that he had broken her cheekbone and her eye felt like it was going to explode out of her head. "Let me go!" It felt like he was going to rip her hair right out of her head.

Once outside and a fair distance from the door. Spike let her go.

"What the hell?" she shouted at him.

"Would you keep your voice down," he seethed. "Have you forgotten what time we're living in? I'm your bloody husband according to everyone here. If I had acted any different it would have been suspicious."

All the anger Willow was feeling a minute ago vanished. "Sorry, I just reacted."

"I can tell."

"How are we going to know if Liam gets turned?" Willow asked.

"We could watch," Spike suggested.

She shuddered at the thought. "I don't think I want to do that."

"Then go back to the barn, and I'll watch," Spike reasoned.

"Fine."

And that's what she did.