1855 – London, England – Autumn

Willow was vaguely aware of the fact that her and Spike were living in a bubble, she just never dared to do anything that would burst it. Neither one of them had mentioned Drusilla's name since 1769. Coming to London now didn't seem like a choice either of them had made. It just seemed to have happened and Willow was willfully ignoring the nervousness she was feeling about being here.

They worked together at the moment. He tended bar and she was a waitress at the same bar on the same days. Today was one of their days off and they were spending it doing one of their activities. They loved their activities. As soon as they were able they started going to libraries, attending lectures, things like that. Sometimes Willow had to dress like a man to get in but that was all part of the fun for them. It had become a big game. When they were feeling mischievous they would dress up and crash high society parties. So long as they didn't make too big a scene they felt they were all right. They had saved up quite a bit of money. On top of their day jobs they invested into water closets, which was bringing them in a lot of money. Soon they wouldn't even need to work.

Today they were walking around Hampstead looking at the nice architecture. This was something they did when they had nothing else to do and didn't feel like going to one of the libraries. Being better read these days and far more traveled around England, their accents were broadly English not being specific to an area of any kind and they got the word 'it' back in their vocabulary.

They were passing a church with large stained glass windows and with a Gothic flair. "We should check it out," Willow suggested. "Churches sometimes have the strangest things in them. You never know what we'll find."

Spike smiled at her. "Like that finger bone behind glass? What saint was that from?"

"I don't remember which saint, but I remember us being oddly fascinated with it." She pulled on his arm and took them inside.

It seemed they had come during the scheduled confessions. People were lined up in pews waiting to get into the small boxes where they would confess to their priests. Willow and Spike had been seeing this more and more over the last fifty years... a growth in the Catholic church. There was even the Catholic Relief Act in 1829. So it wasn't so unusual to see Catholics anymore. And during the potato famine and with the French coming over there was a huge surge in Catholics in England.

Pulling her close, Spike whispered in her ear, "What do you think? Do we have enough time for me to confess my sins?"

Willow had to stifle her laughter. "I don't think we'll ever have time for all that. Come on they have beautiful windows."

They were looking at the stations of the cross done in lead and colored glass when Willow noticed a change in Spike. He suddenly got tense. She looked where he was looking and her heart started to immediately ache.

Drusilla was there.

A very young Drusilla, but unmistakeably Drusilla. She looked to be no older then fifteen and she was with her sisters and her parents. And Spike couldn't take his eyes off of her. He took several steps in her direction, not even glancing at the reliquary that housed a human skull.

When Spike followed Dru out the door, Willow's heart broke and the bubble she had been living in for the last eighty-six years burst. Willow couldn't bare to follow him out the door.

XxXx

1858 – London, England – Summer

Spike ended up getting replaced as the bartender at the pub he and Willow worked at because his work attendance was so poor. He didn't care. He had to see everything she was doing. He was rarely home and he rarely talked to Willow beyond getting fed nightly. He barely tasted her anymore. Her virginity remained thanks to the spell and her power had only increased as time passed, but at the moment it was salt on his lips.

He knew he needed to decide between Drusilla and Willow, something he had been avoiding for a very long time. But that time was up. The decision needed to be made. He just didn't want to make it. He wanted both. He wanted them to become a great trio. He knew that Willow was a bit catholic with her tastes and he remembered that Drusilla and Darla got together quite a few times over the years. He had reason to think that it would work. But he also had reason to think that it wouldn't work. Drusilla as a vampire was insanely cruel, Willow wouldn't be able to be with someone like that. The reason Willow was able to be with Spike now was because he hadn't killed in a hundred and five years.

Had he really been with Willow that long?

They hadn't been lovers all that time, but they had been companions for all of it. Even at their worst they had always in the end been there for each other. Was that all going to end now? Was there no way to salvage things? Was there no way to make the two parts of his heart line up? He had come to adore Willow, but he still loved Drusilla so much it hurt.

He was watching Drusilla now. She was embroidering something with lots of colorful flowers and she looked so happy. He had been watching her for almost three years now and he couldn't believe how sane she was and how happy she seemed with her family. There were a few spots of gloom on the gilding because of her visions, but for the most part they seemed to be so incredibly blissful.

There wasn't going to be much of that left. It wasn't too far off when Angelus and Darla would show up and put an end to all of that.

Spike tore his eyes away from Drusilla and walked home with his head down. He didn't know what to do and he needed to talk to Willow. No one knew how to make sense of things for him better than Willow and he needed her now like he had never needed her before. He knew that he'd been blowing her off a lot recently. She had been trying for a long time to get him to do the things they used to do together. Even this morning, she had tried to get him to take her to the library since it was her day off, but he told her that he'd do it some other time. He was busy. She simply nodded and said, 'Of course.'

Not knowing whether she was even in the apartment, Spike walked up the stairs and unlocked the door. He didn't even need his eyes to tell him that she wasn't there. Looking in the bedroom wardrobe to see what she was wearing, Spike was trying to figure out whether he should wait for her here or go look for her. Her men's clothes were gone. She had gone to the library without him. He checked his pocket watch and determined that she would be home shortly if she didn't stop anywhere after the library so he went back out to sitting room to wait for her.

If they were together, they might have stopped someplace to eat after the library or have gone for a walk, but he had no idea what she might do after the library by herself. She was always so curious that she could be up to absolutely anything. For all he knew she was off to see a prostitute. He wouldn't put it past her with the way he's been ignoring her lately and he certainly wouldn't hold it against her under normal circumstances but he needed to talk to her right now... this very minute.

Willow came through the door looking sad. She took her hat off and her jacket and hung them up on the coat rack just inside the door.

"We need to talk," Spike said.

"I figured as much, you're actually home before dark." She sat in the other wingback chair and looked at him, waiting to hear what he had to say.

Spike stood up and walked over to the window and looked outside. It was a beautiful summer day. There should be nothing wrong on a day like this. "I can't let her be turned."

"I see," Willow said quietly. "Why not?"

He turned to look at her. There was no surprise on her face, there was only sadness mixed with curiosity. Supposing that he better make the explanation a good one, he started with, "She's sane. I've never seen her sane before. Sure there were moments over the years where she would seem lucid, but it was never like this. She's so happy now and I never want to see her world ripped out from under her. I don't give a damn what the consequences are we have to save them all."

She nodded. "So you want to keep her from going insane. Is that what I'm hearing?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm afraid what you want is impossible, Spike. And I'm not trying to be mean here. I'm just telling you how things work. The Drusilla I remember seemed schizophrenic and if I'm right about that her symptoms are going to happen whether you stop her turning or not. One day she's going to break from reality and for humans during this time period her future is pretty bleak." Her eyes were apologetic.

"What are you saying?" Spike asked anger seeping out of his voice.

"I'm saying that Drusilla is sick and the symptoms are going to show one day no matter what. If she's human when that happens they may cart her off to Bedlam. Do you really want that for her? Do you know how they treat the patients there?" Willow looked angry now. They were now talking about one of her least favorite things about history.

He knew very well how they treated the patients at Bedlam. He toured the place for giggles once, but now it didn't seem so funny. The idea of Drusilla there chilled him. "I don't think her parents would do that to her."

"What will happen to her after her parents die? Spike, there are no guarantees here about what would happen to her if she were human. But we do know what her life will be like as a vampire. I read the Watcher's Diaries, Angelus takes care of her after she becomes a vampire and later on you do. And you said it yourself... you were happy together. She was happy with you. Insane... yes, but that's unavoidable. So the question becomes... which life is best for her? Human and unknown? Or vampire where we know she's happy?" The look on Willow's face was completely serious with edges of pain. This was a difficult conversation for her. He could tell that it still went against the grain for her to be advocating for letting someone get turned.

"If it were your choice?" Spike asked.

"Then we wouldn't meddle with history. We'd leave tomorrow and go very far away. Learn a new language if we had to, whatever, just go." She looked tired now.

"I don't know if I can leave her," he muttered.

"At least you haven't talked to her," Willow said.

"How do you know that?" he wanted to know.

Her hands started to wring together and she was looking at everything but him.

"How do you know that?" he asked again getting into her face.

Very quietly, almost so quietly that he couldn't hear her, she replied, "I've been following you. On my days off."

"Impossible. I would have smelled you or saw you." He huffed and then went to look out the window again.

"I stay downwind and you never see anything but her." If it was possible to hear a heart break he was sure he just did.

He looked at her again. "How long have you been following me?"

Her eyes were downcast. "As long as you've been following her."

Spike's eyes got really wide. How was she able to follow him for so long without him knowing about it? Surely there would have had to have been a shift of wind or something to tell him that she was there at some point. Or was he so caught up in Drusilla that he'd have missed it if she were standing right next to him? He sat down and held his head in his hands. How lost have I been?

"What will you do if I decide to save her and her family?" he asked.

"I'll help. What else can I do?" He knew in that moment that she loved him because she was willing to do whatever he wanted.

He had a decision to make.