Time Stitches You

by sinecure

Spike uses Willow to go back in time to avoid being implanted by the Initiative, but- has even one of Spike's plans ever gone right? They end up a little further back in time than he intended. *WiP*

20. Time Stitch 20

Title: Time Stitches You (20/?)
Disclaimer: I own nothing here except the plot. The characters and all things Buffy the Vampire Slayer belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Twentieth Century, the Pope, and whoever else wants to claim them and actually receives royalties from them. That's not me, so... there ya go.
Pairing: W/S
Rating: R
Summary: Spike uses Willow to go back in time to avoid being implanted by the Initiative. Has even one of Spike's plans ever gone right? They end up a little further back in time than he intended.
A/N: Sorry about the delay, but the holidays got in my way. Hmph.
A/N 2: I've been working on this chapter for years. No, literally, for years. The past two chapters were written years ago as well, but I had to change a lot on this one, and I'm extremely nervous about it. Please bear with me. I'm working without a beta and partially from memory on some things and will be going back and cleaning up older chapters because of 's bad formatting screwing them up.

---

Willow fell to the ground with an oomph, landing on something hard, and yet, soft as well. Whatever it was, it gave an answering oomph and she quickly jerked back, finding Spike beneath her. Dizziness rushed through her and she fisted his shirt and the grass beside him with tight fingers.

The wave of vertigo passed rather quickly and she was able to blink it away. Time hopping seemed to be getting easier.

"Ow," Spike groaned, lying back on the grass, resting his arms limply at his sides.

On her anyway.

She looked down at him critically. He looked dead, which was completely normal for him, of course.

Despite all of her feelings from before-all the revelations and fears-she smiled in relief. They'd ended up together. She'd been fearful that she'd be on her own again for who knew how long this time. "We made it. Together. Now I don't have to go to work in the steel mines."

He raised a dark eyebrow at her.

"Barmaid, steel worker..." She held her fingers up, half an inch apart. "I was this close to choosing steel worker last time."

His brow rose a little higher.

Glancing around with a smirk, she felt Spike shift beneath her and realized she was still on him. Despite, or maybe because of, how soft and hard and familiar he felt under her, she quickly rolled off of him. "Sorry." Settling on the cool grass, hands fisted at her sides, she ran her eyes over his thigh, now encased in clean white breeches. "Did I hurt you?"

"Nothing I can't handle." He opened his eyes, staring at her, long and hard. "Let's not forget I'm a big boy, huh? Tough vampire and all who can handle pain." His eyes stayed on her intently, not blinking, not looking away. "A vampire who sometimes likes pain."

Had he guessed her thoughts from earlier? Realized her realization? "Right." Was he warning her?

Sighing lightly, he stared up at the night sky. "I'm not going to apologize for what I am, Willow."

And she shouldn't expect him to. It wasn't his fault she'd thought him different from the rest of the vampires. Wasn't his fault she'd tricked herself into believing something that he'd never lied about. He'd been honest from the beginning, about that at least.

She'd just assumed because he was nice to her-mostly-that he wasn't as evil as he actually was.

And now wasn't really the time to be thinking about this. Not while lying on a soft hillside who knew where during who knew what time period, with who knew what lurking around. There'd be plenty of time to discuss it-if she chose to-when they were safe somewhere. Clearing her throat, she focused her gaze back on his injured thigh.

The smelly herbal paste she'd applied to it seemed to be working. At least his breeches were still clean. Still white. Not even speckled with blood.

She took in their surroundings once more. It was night, which was a plus, but other than that, she couldn't tell a thing about where they were.

Grass, trees, flowers... a park maybe? There were lights shining in the distance, not too far away, but not too terribly close either. A woman's shrill laugh sounded a ways off and Willow was positive the owner of that voice was as drunk as Thomas, the guy who'd frequented Joe's place nightly for as long as she could remember, drinking all night and regaling anyone within earshot with tales of highway robbery and pirates on the far off seas.

Returning her attention to the immediate vicinity, she noticed that their belongings, which were now in a nice little valise that Christine had given them, were a few yards away, resting in a bed of flowers. Irises, white peonies, and blue sweet Williams surrounded the case, their scent tickling her nose, along with softer, subtler smells of grass and trees. It was a little overwhelming, and she felt a sneeze coming on; once, twice, three times.

They always came in threes. Her dad used to tell her it was a good omen. She could only hope. They were due a little good luck, weren't they?

Other smells wafted toward her as well; roasting meat, rich, wonderful aromas of food. She'd had a light meal at Christine's before leaving, but her stomach still growled in response to the delicious smells.

Glancing at Spike, she expected to see him looking around as well, but he was still lying back on the grass, hands now laced behind his head. He sighed and reached out toward her, wrapping one of his hands around her upper arm, pulling her into a prone position beside him. All with his eyes closed. "Relax. You're always so bloody tense."

Instead of immediately sitting up again, as was her first impulse, she stayed where she was, taking a few deep, calming breaths of the cool night air, scooting just the tiniest bit away from him.

It was actually kind of pleasant here. Peaceful.

He was right; since this whole adventure had started, she'd been overly tense. More so since the jump to Dru's time with no Spike around, being trapped in the past, the near-rape, Angelus, Dru, Darla- all of it, and... well, she was tense. Definitely tense, but who wouldn't be, and how the hell was she supposed to relax now?

They didn't know where they were and relaxing and letting go of everything for a few minutes seemed like the absolute worst thing to do.

Blinking up at the stars in the night sky, she felt an overwhelming exhaustion sweep over her. She needed to do something or she'd be torn to pieces by the stress and the constant anxiety and fear. Maybe it was time to let go. In light of her earlier thoughts, maybe she just needed to stop stressing over every little thing. To just... let things happen and not lose control again.

If she didn't stop freaking out over everything, she'd end up with a couple of bleeding ulcers for her troubles, and possibly a lot of dead demons and vampires. Maybe even humans.

Another deep breath left Spike. "I said relax, love. I know you can do it... I've felt it while you were sleeping. How about you try it while awake for a change?" He turned his head sideways, watching her, dark eyes taking in the tightness of her mouth, and the way her own eyes wouldn't settle on him for more than a few seconds.

Guilt.

She felt it, and felt she needed to feel it in order to keep him at a distance, because, despite knowing what she thought she knew about him now, her traitorous mind and body didn't care. She still wanted to be near him, to touch him, and talk with him, and... and she'd need to keep her distance if she was going to retain her sanity.

And if they were going to get through the next few weeks or months.

God, she hoped it wasn't years.

Sitting up, she drew her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "It's nice here," she ventured, hearing the tension in her voice and knowing he did too.

He sat up beside her, eyes fixed intently on her. She didn't like it. It felt like he was figuring her out, deciphering her thoughts and feelings. Like he knew her better than she knew herself, and though she'd thought it nice that he wanted to know her more, to figure her out, now it was just too much.

Uncomfortable with his scrutiny, she dropped her eyes to the ground. "What?"

A distant voice sounded off to her left and she snapped her head around. There were people far off, but she still couldn't see them.

Spike turned away with a shake of his head. "We should find somewhere to stay. I don't feel like a deep suntan when the sun rises."

Why did he always have to be so secretive about everything? He gave her enigmatic looks, watched her all the time, did things he refused to tell her about, fought mysterious vampires without even mentioning it to her...

Not that she could talk. She was keeping a few secrets herself these days.

"Yeah," she agreed, sighing heavily as she stood up. "We bloody well should, shouldn't we?"

A small smile lit his lips, but smoothed out again after a few seconds. Shaking his head, he stood up, looking around as he brushed off his breeches before going still and staring around them somewhat cautiously. "We're at Lord Harshnell's estate."

Willow looked around curiously. Was this a place the human Spike had known? There were more voices on the left, but, though there seemed to be a lot of people around, there was no one that she could see. There was music too, if she wasn't mistaken, drifting toward them on a soft breeze along with all those heavenly aromas. "Do you know this place?"

"Yeah." He nodded toward their valise, lying amongst the crushed flowers in the garden. "Spent a lot of time there."

Well, that was... surprising. "You spent a lot of time in a garden? Hello, evil man before you were an evil vampire. How does that translate into being in a garden enough to recognize it?" Scoffing, she brushed off her damp skirts, which were most likely grass stained now, and headed down the sloped hill to their things. "Did ya bury bodies in there?" Stopping as she realized who she was talking to, she looked back at him. "Oh, god, you didn't, did you?"

He laughed, his rich voice sending shivers down her spine. The warm look in his eyes heated her blood and she shuddered. Or was that a shiver? "No bodies." He moved past her, brushing against her as he went. "Just a lot of emotions."

"Wait a minute," she called out, picking up the suitcase and hurrying after him. She shoved the heavy, cumbersome valise into his hands, walking beside him quietly, wondering if she wanted to know this as well. She'd had a lot of revelations tonight, and sometime soon she'd need to sort them out, but right now, did she want to know more about him? Did she have the right to pick and choose what she wanted to know?

Was that fair?

But then she couldn't stop herself. "You had emotions? Other than kill, death, die, I mean. 'Cause, we all heard-"

"Yeah, I had emotions." He lengthened his stride, forcing her to jog to keep up with him. Wasn't he supposed to be the injured one? "Used to be human, you know."

"I know. It's just that..." she gave him an apologetic shrug, and felt the world tip out from under her for a brief second. Shaking her head, she closed her eyes and fought the exhaustion still trying to swamp her. The dizziness passed after a second and she drew in a deep breath, catching up with him again and tossing him a quick glance. "When you first came to Sunnydale, Giles read in the Watcher's Diary that you were evil as a human. That you were called William the Bloody before being turned."

He nodded absently, his eyes on the shimmering lights in the distance. "I was. But not because I was evil." He stopped, turning to her with a short, abrupt laugh. "You're gonna find out anyway, might as well tell you myself."

She frowned, afraid he was about to admit to something horrible. Something he was ashamed of even as a vampire. And she suddenly realized that she didn't want to know. She didn't want to carry the extra weight of knowing that he'd-

"I was a pathetic poet, a wannabe bard. Mooned around moping over everything, thinking I had all these really deep thoughts."

Willow blinked at him a few times, then opened her mouth uselessly. Then closed it. Wait, what? He'd been a poet? "Like the Jack Handy of poetry?"

He exhaled, staring off into the sky. "Not sure what that means. Look, I wrote poetry, did the lovesick thing and all that. I was quite the... gentleman. Only without a title." His gaze returned to her face, mouth tightening slightly, jaw working from side to side, and she thought she saw him holding back laughter.

Smacking him on the arm, relieved it wasn't some horrible human life he'd led that she'd have to tack onto the end of a long line of reasons not to get too close to him, she chuckled, starting off down the grassy hill again. "That's funny."

A loud snort escaped him as he turned away and left her behind, his long strides eating up the ground.

Staring at his back, she frowned. Was he being serious? Had he really been a poet? A lovesick, poetry-writing gentleman? But... the Watcher's Diaries, they'd all said he was evil. Hadn't they? Well, they'd certainly mentioned him being William the Bloody before becoming a vampire, and she'd always assumed that meant he was a horrible, evil person. They all had.

I walk in worlds others can't begin to imagine.

She remembered his words from that night, long ago, in her room at the pub. When everything was slightly less sucky than now. When Sam and Joe were still alive.

It had to be hard for him to admit if he was serious. A poetry-writing moodster. Wow.

Walking slowly behind him, lost in thought, her ears picked up more voices and louder laughter. They faded in and out a couple of times, sounding like someone was turning the volume up and down. It wasn't until they slowed down before speeding back up to normal and she felt the dizziness return that she started to realize it was her ears that were making everything sound funny. Was something wrong with her? She did feel tired and slow, like she was plodding through quicksand thickened with molasses.

Maybe she was getting sick. Or was it something else?

Everything returned to normal with a blare of sound, startling Willow. The exhaustion returned, stronger this time, but she brushed it away, not wanting to deal with all of this right now. She was just tired and a little tapped out. That was all.

Glancing around, she realized they'd walked quite a bit further than she'd noticed in the time she'd been out of it. She looked up, finding herself on the grounds of a lush estate. To her left was a winding path of gravel, dotted by moonlight and shadows. A few couples of well-dressed men and women strolled toward them along the winding path, talking and laughing gaily. A trio of young women, their noses turned up at the sight of her, strode past, not gracing her with more than the one sour look.

She frowned down at her gown foggily, not seeing a thing wrong with the dark green material. Certainly they couldn't see any grass stains in the near-darkness? The cut looked similar to the other women's gowns, so what the hell? Smoothing a hand absently down her hair, which Christine had helped her work into a chignon before they left, she tucked a few stray strands behind her ear.

Nothing wrong there either.

She glanced up ahead at Spike, who was walking a yard or so in front of her, still carrying the valise.

"William," she called softly, trying to gain his attention without calling anymore to herself. Picking her skirts up in both hands, careful not to expose any ankle, she ran to catch up to him. Once back by his side, she dropped her skirts and smoothed them out, shaking her head, irritated with having to constantly be cautious about what was exposed and what wasn't. "It's ridiculous that showing a little ankle can be so scandalous."

Spike continued walking, barely even glancing in her direction. She heard him draw in a breath once, and his limp returned for a few steps, but other than that, he could've been a robot.

After walking for what felt like a block, not seeing anyone else, and listening only to the crunch of their steps on the gravel path, she sighed and stepped in front of him. "Look, I'm- I'm sorry, okay? I thought you were kidding." She slid her eyes shut, shaking her head in self-deprecation. "That's not an excuse, I know. It was rude. I was rude. And mean, and if I'd thought for a moment you were being serious..." she opened her eyes, dipping her head down to force him to look at her, "I never would've laughed. Ever."

He stared at her for a few seconds before brushing past her, intent on the journey ahead. "Doesn't matter."

She grabbed his arm, halting him a few feet away, once again moving in front of him and blocking his path. "Hello," she said, pointing at her chest, "high school nerd, remember? Star of the geek squad? Ringing any bells?"

"Oh," he half-laughed, half-snarled, "is that supposed to make it better? I've been laughed at by a nerd? A geek?" His sarcasm was strong, his derision even stronger. "Well, all better now, thanks."

A couple skirted by them quickly, their steps on the graveled path crunching loudly in the sudden quiet between them.

Willow snorted after they were out of earshot and crossed her arms over her chest. "Please! You know damn well what I'm talking about, Spike. I was the girl in school that everyone picked on. I know what's it's like to be laughed at, and, and made fun of." She tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowing, ignoring the lightheaded feeling rushing through her, making her vision a little sparkly. "By your blonde bimbo girlfriend even. So, no, I would never purposely make fun of you."

His eyes narrowed as well, then suddenly closed as a sigh escaped him. Shoulders lifting in a shrug, he pushed his hand through his hair. "Yeah. Guess you wouldn't at that."

She shrugged as well, dropping her defensive posture. "My bad." Frowning, she stared over his shoulder, deep into the middle distance, trying to remember something she'd read. "Ooo, I just thought of something. The Watcher's Diary said you were, well, I think it said you were almost as old as Angelus. Do you think this is the reason the dates don't match up? Because of us?" She gestured around them, to the estate they were standing on, a small bit of excitement pulsing in her. "All this traveling through time, someone must have seen you... Laura's watcher could've- oh, I am so checking that out when we get back home."

Changing the valise to his other hand and taking hers with his free hand, he pulled her with him. His hand was damp from holding the handle of the suitcase. Warm. He felt human. Or it could've been from the blood he'd downed just before she did the spell that brought them here. She'd done a lot of spells lately.

Maybe too many.

"Don't really care just now," he sighed, pulling her along beside him. "What I do care about is getting safely inside somewhere before the sun decides to come up."

She waved her free hand to the side, indicating their surroundings. "What about this Lord Harshnell guy? Apparently this place is a freaking mansion. This yard alone is as big as Sunnydale." She glanced at him curiously. "Was he a friend of yours?"

"Oh, bloody hell, no. He was a fat bastard who slept all day and sat around all night passing judgment on others." He chuckled darkly, his hand tightening uncomfortably on hers. "Thought he was better'n everybody else. Lorded it over all the lesser folk. Knew quite a few people like that."

"Sounds like a prince among men," she said, prying Spike's fingers from around her hand. "And also, ow."

Spike's fingers loosened, but didn't let go of her. He ducked under a low-hanging tree branch, passing by a lantern that was set up by the side of the path. There were more of them up ahead, every few yards, staggered on either side of the path, swaying in her vision.

Apparently they were reaching civilization.

"Hey!" Spike shouted, yanking on her hand. She stumbled forward, wondering what the hell she'd done now, and tried to catch her balance, but a hard body smacked into hers, knocking her to the ground. Nausea. Oh, god. Feet going out from under her, she fell backward, landing on her ass, just barely catching herself with her hands. Someone fell on top of her, then quickly rolled off and onto the grass beside her.

Dizziness and nausea and blurred vision, oh, my.

And then it passed again.

She felt small, sharp rocks poking and biting into the flesh of her hands. Not just her hands though, oh, no, that wouldn't make this day complete. Her ass was now being viciously attacked by tiny, little pieces of rock, too.

The man got up on his knees beside her- he could do that since he was on the grass and not on tiny little projectile pieces of granite. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry," he exclaimed, sounding horrified.

Dusting her hands off, she sighed. "Don't worry about it." This was a near-perfect ending for the day that didn't want to end. She felt like she'd been awake for a week, running around, killing things, healing Spike, and walking nonstop. Weariness rushed through her, and this time it stayed.

Spike dropped the valise to the ground and started to kneel beside her, but she quickly stopped him.

"Your leg," she reminded him. "And, look," she said, showing her hands to him and the rude man who- whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa. She'd been expecting- and, well, she was actually looking forward to it, but not this soon. Serious whoa-ness.

It was like one of those Doublemint commercials. Double her pleasure, double her fun. She was going to hell for that thought, but there was still a little drool factor going on in her mouth as images of Spike and her and this man entered her mind and didn't want to leave.

Spike frowned at her, then at the man on his knees beside her. She saw him close his eyes and throw his head back in frustration, mouthing a few curse words under his breath.

She was sure there was a bloody hell in there somewhere.

The human-human!-William patted the ground around him, squinting in the meager moonlight. "I'm terribly, terribly sorry, my lady, there's no excuse for my clumsiness." He frowned at the ground, resembling Spike so much that she could only stare at him dumbly. He was flushing deeply, looking around him miserably. "I seem to have lost my spectacles. I wonder if you could trouble yourself to help me find them?"

Slightly panicked, Willow looked for his glasses, thanking god he wasn't gifted with perfect sight. Who knew what would happen if William saw his exact duplicate-his doppelganger-standing before him. Whatever it was, surely it wouldn't be good.

Spike shoved his foot behind him and she spotted a telltale glare in the grass beside him.

"Oh, dear. I can't seem to find them either," she lied, making a show of patting the ground all around her, not knowing how bad his sight was, or how much he could, and couldn't, see.

Spike held his hand out to her again to help her up and she took it this time, not anticipating him jerking her up so roughly. She did a little hop and frowned.

"Thank you, William," she bit out without thinking, then wanted to kick herself for her stupidity. Brushing her skirts off, she looked down at the human William, hands halting when he looked up at them.

The likeness was uncanny.

"Again," he climbed gracefully to his feet, "I apologize." Dusting his hands off, he offered one to Spike.

Spike took a quick step backward and stared at the hand before him in horror. "No harm done, mate." His face said otherwise. "Come on, dear. We should be going."

William dropped his hand with a small sigh.

He had really beautiful, wavy, light brown hair that was swept back from his face, framing it just perfectly, softening his cheekbones. But it was his eyes, which were a bright blue-ish gray color, even in the low light of the lanterns and the full moon hanging overhead, that grabbed her attention.

They were clear and bright, readable. He wasn't hiding his feelings from her like Spike always did. Wasn't pretending.

And she realized that this man, this human, was going to turn into the demon beside her. He'd claw his way out of his grave, and then learn to hunt and feed, to kill and torture. He'd take pleasure in it. And though it hurt to think of that happening to this gentle man, it was also reassuring. Spike was nothing like Angelus, and he didn't even have a soul. He'd always seemed mellower to her, even when he was trying to kill her.

He'd talked to her like an equal, not like a meal, when he came to her dorm room. There'd been a ton of fear, yes, definitely fear. But there'd also been a little comfort on both sides. And the time before that, too. She'd actually felt sorry for him. For what Drusilla had done to him. Maybe that was stupid, maybe it'd get her killed one day, or maybe she was being naïve again, but... Spike wasn't like all the other vampires she'd known.

Over four years, she'd met and been threatened by a lot of vampires, and that was before their trip through time.

Now, years later, she knew evil. She'd even become it for a bit.

Yes, Spike was a demon and he was evil, but he seemed to care about her. He was protective of her as well. Was that evil? And, here was William, the man Spike used to be, and all she could think was that he was a good balance to the demon he was to become.

He was nearly identical to Spike, yet she could tell the difference between them easily enough. Spike wasn't this soft and innocent. There was a hard edge to him that William lacked with his shy smile and uncertainty. He was friendly and handsome, his lips inviting a person to look at them. Spike's smile was more often cynical and bitter, his lips inviting a person to want to smack him.

Or touch him and kiss him.

She let out a quiet sigh, thinking she could so easily fall for this man like she had for- could have for Spike.

Her vision began to fade again and she absently reached out for something to hold on to, but both Spike and William were too far away from her. Neither were a good prospect just now anyway, she'd be better off without.

Darkness faded in and out, then brightened to a pinprick. Oh. Something was most definitely wrong with her, but she couldn't deal with it now. It'd have to wait until they were alone because she was beginning to think it was from using too much magick recently. She'd used a hell of a lot in the past few days.

She swayed a little as Spike glanced down the path, toward their freedom.

William frowned, looking concerned as he reached out to her. His hand was soft and comforting, grounding. "Are you hurt, my lady?" he asked, voice low and deep, his British accent slightly more pronounced than Giles'. His eyes swept over her briefly, unfocused without his glasses.

Spike nudged her arm and she shook herself. "Uh, no," she finally stammered. "I'm- I'm unharmed, thank you." She rolled her eyes at her stilted answer, trying to force herself back into her 'genteel English lady' persona.

Both Williams were looking at her. The human one with a kind, but distracted quality. Spike with a... well, he was frowning and possibly annoyed.

The human William brushed off his tan breeches and frock coat almost as an afterthought and she wondered if he had any idea how handsome he was. Probably not. It'd take the demon to realize that.

Spike took her hand, startling her into looking his way. His eyes were distant, his mouth twisted into one of those cynical smiles. "Wife's just fine. Aren't you?" In a lowered voice, just by her ear, he whispered, "You mind not ogling him?"

"Sorry." She winced and tightened her fingers around Spike's hand, raising her voice back to normal. "I'm fine," she said slowly, realizing she really was fine for the moment. "Just a bit startled is all."

William smiled in understanding, nodding his head a little and clasping his hands behind his back. "You seem rather familiar," he said softly, switching his gaze from Willow to Spike. "May I ask your name, sir?"

Spike shifted his weight off of his hurt leg and cleared his throat.

Concern shot through her when she saw how disconcerted he looked. "You okay?" she asked softly, leaning toward him a bit to keep their conversation between them. Her eyes drifted down to his leg; still blood-free.

"Fine," he told her equally as softly, then turned his attention to William. "I'm William, uh," he looked around, in a slight panic, and then cleared his throat again, "uh, R- Rose." His voice, after his little falter, was steady and even, with no inflection in it, and she knew he was trying to keep himself from noticing he was talking to... himself.

Willow smirked a little at that, and at the fact that he'd just used part of her name for his own.

The human William's brows dipped down sharply when Spike spoke, while Spike's shot up, almost in surprise. She wondered what that was about.

"Ah," William said after a moment, bowing slightly in their general direction. "I am William as well. William-"

"Yeah, nice to meet you and all, but we've got to go." Staring at William a moment longer, Spike shook his head with a slow frown. Grabbing Willow's arm, he dragged her along with him, further down the path, away from himself.

"Ah. I see... yes, uh, good- goodbye," she heard William call after them hastily and she turned with a quick wave in his direction, realized he probably couldn't see it and jerked free of Spike's grip.

"We can't just leave you- him there." She ran back and picked up his wire-rimmed glasses. "I've found your spectacles." Handing them to him, feeling his warm skin brush hers, she closed her eyes for a second. Feeling warm skin when Spike touched her was... odd, but in a good way.

"Thank you," William enthused, quickly putting the glasses on. He blinked at her a few times, but she was already turning away, joining Spike in the shadows of the path.

Spike grabbed her hand again and drew her with him away from his human self.

Stumbling a few times at the pace he set, she kept quiet until they were far enough away not to be overheard, then leaned toward him, staring over her shoulder at William. "Wow," she mumbled. "That was odd. How old is he? I mean, are we close? We don't have to wait too long, do we?"

"No." He glanced back as well, watching William stare after them before turning and heading toward the garden they'd just left. "Not too long."

They reached the house proper a minute later, and Willow was panting by then, feeling weaker and weaker. Her body wasn't responding as she was used to and it was difficult to keep her thoughts completely straight. Definitely an overuse of magick. She'd need to get somewhere quick so that she could sleep and recharge. "Hey, what's the rush?" she gasped, rolling her eyes at the irony of needing to hurry, but not being able to because her body was being slow. She pulled her arm free of Spike's and shortened her strides.

Spike's brow lifted her way.

"Yeah, I get it; doppelganger. Bad badness if there are two of you. But could you just slow down a little?" She refused to run after him again. He could wait for her, damn it. Otherwise, he'd have to pick her up off the ground after she collapsed into a puddle of exhaustion.

They rounded a stand of trees and were suddenly on a large patio in back of a mansion. She heard low conversations and laughter all around them. The lights were brighter here. Dancing golden light flowed from the doorways, broken by the occasional person walking past. She had to cover her eyes from the piercing glow. The aroma of fresh fruits, cooked meats, and sweet wine wafted their way, making her stomach turn as music drifted through the open doors, soothing her ears with soft, melodic sounds.

She bumped into someone, barely seeing her as she blinked back a sudden wave of nausea.

"Excuse me," she mumbled, trying to shake off the dizziness washing over her.

The sounds grew muffled again and something ate at her. Something deep and dark and pulsing in her veins. She fought the feelings as the people milling about her and Spike turned to stare.

Talking in hushed tones.

Watching her, judging her.

A sharp laugh sounded behind her and she tensed up. The man was laughing at her. Was it Spike?

She glanced behind her, seeing a couple of women, lightly laughing, passing by her to go back into the house. Not them. "Spike?" Where was he? Was he leaving her alone here? "Where are you?" Anger rose in her. She could feel it battering at her, gnawing on her insides, and she wanted to get somewhere soon, somewhere where she wouldn't cause a scene.

Somewhere where she couldn't hurt anyone.

Shaking her head to clear it, she stared at Spike, seeing distaste and a sneer on his lips. "Can't you do anything? Come on!"

She followed after him with a frown. Why was he looking at her like that, talking to her like that? Sharp pain pierced her side and she doubled over with a gasp. The pain fueled her, driving the ire higher and higher. "I'd love to get out of here," she snarled, eyeing his retreating back, feeling rage writhe in her. "Anything to be able to get away from you." She could so easily hurt him. A little flick of her wrist here... a tap of a stake there.

No.

No, that wasn't right. That wasn't her. Her magick was tapped out and her excessive use of her powers was causing these... feelings, right? That was it. That was what it was. It had to be.

"I said come on." Spike took her hand, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there with her. And it hurt. Seeing his true feelings, his real feelings, it hurt to know. "You're useless, you know that?"

"Go to hell," she bit out, glaring at him. "Like you're so perfect." She leaned forward, spitting out her words, aiming to hurt him as much as he'd hurt her. "I never wanted you. I was just taking pity on you. It was a pity fuck," she laughed, amusement bubbling up inside her to mix with the rage. "Never wanted you at all."

He stared at her for a good long while before turning and heading to the right, following the huge brick mansion around to the side. Back here, the darkness was broken only by rectangles of light stretching from the high windows.

He was leaving her behind.

Of course he was, she was being horrible to him. Why wouldn't he want to leave her?

No, she was being truthful. He was the one hurting her.

It was hard to make herself follow him, but she saw no other way out of there and the people were talking too loudly. Their voices rose and their footsteps thumped on the patio stones. They were whispering about her. About how Spike didn't want her. They were watching her, laughing to her face. Spike didn't care for her, it was obvious in the way he cringed from her and snarled her name.

"Fuck. You." Her whispered words reached Spike's ears, if no one else's. They were all talking so loudly they probably couldn't hear her anyway. They were intent on staring and following her, chasing her from the yard.

She had a moment of lucidity when she thought something was wrong, but it was only a moment, gone before it fully formed.

"I hate the way you feel," Spike called over his shoulder. "Your touch makes me feel like worms are crawling under my skin."

She shook her head, seeing his face turn sharply toward her and then away again. It jerked so quickly from side to side, like he was having a seizure, but his body wasn't reacting, and then it stopped and he was turned away from her. Nausea swept through her. Biting it back, feeling like she wanted to run, she pushed past the small crowd of men hunched over, talking in low, excited tones. She could hear dice being shaken and thrown against the side of the house to click onto the stone path. Shouts of disappointment and excitement rang out along with laughter and goading.

"Who are you?" she whispered, trying to see them in the darkness. They were just black shapes moving against the inky blackness.

"Servants of the demons, of course. Damned like you are."

Snapping her head up, she stared at Spike's back. "Demons." He pulled her along, not letting go, tightening his grip in an unnecessarily cruel grip. "There are demons here. We should kill them!"

He shook his head and held his finger to his lips, dragging her faster.

The group of men spotted them and went quiet, hurriedly shoving blurry items into their jacket pockets and under their legs. Their hushed whispering quieted to complete silence as she and Spike went past.

And then, as they emerged onto the front lawn filled with carriages and people arriving and departing, everything snapped back into focus. Into reality.

"Whoa."

Spike raised a brow at her and remained silent.

"I'm sorry. I think-"

...for a whole ten seconds. "Let's just get out of here." There was a tic in his jaw as he ground his teeth together. She didn't blame him in the least. She felt guilty and ashamed and wanted to tell him that, but he shook his head with a warning look.

Now wasn't the time.

They needed to get somewhere safe first, then she could have her freak out. "Since- since that was you-human you-back there, I'm assuming we're in London." She glanced around at the vehicles clogging the estate grounds, hoping like hell that there was somewhere with a bed close by, because she was fading fast and she really didn't want that anger to rise in her again.

Didn't want to lash out at Spike again.

"Yeah, we're in London," he said, pulling a cigarette out and slipping it between his lips. He shook his Zippo a few times then tried to light it. It sparked, but didn't work.

"We need to get a hansom cab," she said, absently flicking her finger at the tip of his cigarette. "Hang on, did you really say there were demons here? Should we... you know?"

"Oi!"

She turned to see the tip of his cigarette flare up with a bright orange flame.

He dropped the cigarette and valise in alarm, patting his slightly singed hand with a dark look aimed her way. "Keep the bloody mojo to yourself, huh? I don't fancy going up in flames. Haven't I mentioned that a few times tonight?" His eyes shifted from the ground to her face, muscle jerking tighter in his jaw. "And you don't need to be using now, not in your condition."

"I'm sorry." She hadn't even realized what she was doing. She'd just done it, with no thought behind it. Again. Was she going to lose control again and light people-demons-on fire? Injure Spike because he happened to be nearby? She squirmed under his frown, imagining something dark and cold swirling in her, just beneath the surface, struggling to take over.

No, she didn't have enough mojo in her to do that much damage, just enough to over-light his cigarette, apparently, because she was pretty sure she was now completely tapped out. "Just trying to do you a favor," she muttered, feeling a surge of resentment rise in her, aimed directly at Spike. Wild-eyed, full-fledged, unexplained resentment followed by anger. She fought it hard. "You could thank me instead of whinging."

Not hard enough.

"Highly unlikely."

It began to pass, leaving her exhausted. She watched the flame of his cigarette fade out, lying on the ground, slowly burning away. Was that what was going to happen to her? Not a quick loss of control, but a slow burn?

Spike sighed, looking down at her, face in shadow. "No harm done. This time."

No, not this time, though she could feel it rising in her again and that scared her more than Angelus. "I wasn't thinking. I just... did it." She shrugged, staring off down the street when a carriage careened past. "I need to get out of here."

He nodded, then bent down to pick up the cigarette, slipping it between his lips as he straightened up. A trail of smoke rose high up into the air as he bent down again, this time for the valise. "Let's get a cab before you light more than my hand on fire." He looked around them, then nodded toward the street, waiting for her to pass before following behind her.