A warning for those diehards, I realise that in the show Spike was a Manchester United fan, but I've taken some liberties and switched his allegiance to Arsenal, :0) Also - thanks to Mabel for clarifying that it should be "cup o' tea" as opposed to "cuppa"!

Chapter Twelve

"What time is it?"

William sighed and glanced at the clock on the wall, the one right in front of her.

"Right. Now, it's about five minutes past the last time you asked me," he answered.

He watched as she got up and rearranged the flowers on the kitchen island. She had already moved them from the hallway table, to the coffee table, to their current resting place. She flitted from one end of the house to the next, moving and arranging things. It was beginning to grate on his nerves. He tried to focus on the football match, but Buffy and her vase were on the move again.

"Buf-"

A roar came from the TV and he glanced over in hope. Hopes that were dashed the moment he realized that it wasn't his beloved Gunners that had scored. He threw his hands up in the air and in true sportsman fashion, began yelling at the TV.

"Tossers! For the love of God, Almunia, open your eyes! What? What – can you not see the big white ball coming your way? Wake up you sodding git or we'll put Monnone in there. It's not like he could do any worse. Bleeding hell!"

Buffy stopped and stared.

William watched the replay, shaking his head. "Wankers!" He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced up at Buffy.

"What?"

"It's a game," she said faintly.

He looked startled. "Pet, this – this-" he gestured to the TV, his voice rising. "Is more than a 'game'. It's a religion and Almunia is God."

She glanced over at the TV. "Then your God is failing you." She cocked her head and winced. "Again."

William's head shot around and he stared at the TV in disbelief as they showed Arsenals' goal keeper let in another goal. "NO! NO! Argh!" The final whistle blew and he jumped to his feet and lunged for the remote on the coffee table. "No, no, no!" he said, shaking his head as he turned the TV off. He turned and looked at Buffy.

"Am I supposed to apologize? I get the feeling I'm suppose to do something to ease the pain," she asked, fighting a smile.

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. He swaggered over to her, grabbed her by the hips, and drew her into his arms. "Well, it wouldn't hurt. A kiss would make it all better."

She wound her arms around his neck, reached up, and kissed him soundly.

"Hmmm, see, all better," he murmured.

The doorbell rang and Buffy stiffened.

"He's here."

William shrugged. "So? It's not like he's your dad or something. I'm not sure what all the fuss is about."

She reached out and moved the vase over by one inch. "Giles is like a father to me. He's been more a father to me these last ten years than my own dad ever was. I love him and his opinion, well, it matters to me."

"His opinion of me, that is," William said sourly.

He hadn't even met the bloke yet and already he didn't like him.

"Giles, um, he wasn't a fan of Spike," Buffy explained.

"Was anyone? Face it, pet. The git painted his nails black and bleached his hair. If that's not enough to turn you off a bloke, then maybe the whole big bad vampire thing would do it."

"Hey!" she said, trying not to laugh. "Don't mock your former big, bad self."

The doorbell chimed again and Buffy paled. She hurried down the hallway towards the door. "Stay there, I need to prepare him!"

William rolled his eyes and headed to the fridge. After Arsenal's sloppy playing, he deserved a beer.

Buffy threw the front door open and smiled nervously at the man standing on the front porch. "Giles!"

He straightened and smiled. "Hello, Buffy."

She threw her arms around him and hugged him hard. "I've missed you," she said softly.

Giles hugged her back and smiled. "I've missed you, too."

She bent down and grabbed his suitcase and gestured in the house. "Come on in."

Giles paused in the foyer and glanced around. "And Spike? Where is he?"

"He's in the kitchen," she said as she tucked a strand of hair nervously behind her ear. "Giles, I just – you need to know that –Spike's a little different. He's not quite what you'd expect or remember. Exactly."

Giles frowned. "From what I understand he's no longer a vampire, correct?"

Buffy nodded. "That's part of it." Figuring the best thing to do was just show him rather than tell him, she headed down the hall. "Follow me."

William glanced up from the newspaper he'd spread over the kitchen counter as he heard Buffy and her friend walk down the hallway. She stepped aside, letting the older gentleman pass her. Giles looked around the room, his gaze arrested by the beautiful view of the ocean, and then he turned towards the kitchen.

William smiled. "Hello Ripper, a pint or a cup o' tea?"

Giles was stunned. He dropped his briefcase and stared.

"Spike?"

William shook his head with a grimace. "No. A hundred times, no." He ran a finger over his smooth forehead, remembering the vampire from the night before, and he shuddered.

"My goodness," Giles breathed. He reached into his pocket for his handkerchief and taking his glasses off, wiped them clean. Then he put them back on and peered at William. "Remarkable."

"Remarkable! That's me. Remarkably, not a bloody vampire." He turned to Buffy and grinned. "He's terribly observant, isn't he?"

Buffy chuckled and went to him and took his hand. She turned and faced Giles. "See what I mean? Different but the same. If that makes any sense at all."

Giles walked over to them, shaking his head in amazement. "It makes perfect sense Buffy. He is both Spike and William. The both of them melded in this new, human form."

William glanced down at Buffy. "Does he always go on like this?"

She grinned. "Most of the time."

"How did you know to call me Ripper?" Giles asked. "Did Buffy use that term?"

William shook his head. "Nope, just came to me when I saw you standing there. Mind, she did mention your name was Rupert Giles. Ripper just seemed to fit."

"Fascinating," Giles murmured.

"Let me show you your room and then we can talk," Buffy said brightly.

William smiled. "Seriously Ripper, do you want a cup o' tea?"

***

Buffy showed Giles his room and then sat waiting on the bed while he went to the washroom to tidy up. When he returned, she crossed her arms and stared at him.

"So, what do you think?"

He shook his head. "Really, Buffy, I'm not sure what to think. This is all highly unusual."

"Did you get a sense, as soon as you met him, that it was him?"

He nodded. "Of course the resemblance is remarkable. But it's more than that."

"The speech patterns and mannerism," she filled in.

"Precisely," he said. "The edge is gone, but what is left is essentially Spike. Or William. I'm not sure what to make of it."

"Don't call him Spike again," she warned.

Giles looked startled. "Why ever not?"

"He hates it. He's quite pleased with being William and has no memory of being Spike. And what he's seen of vampires and what he's sort of guessed about Spike's life, I don't think he's too keen with the comparison."

Giles tilted his head and looked down at her. "Quite frankly Buffy, I can't blame him. Despite your- er- feelings for Spike, he was a soulless demon for most of his existence." He looked thoughtful. "Does he remember any of it?"

"He dreams and writes about it. But they're separate experiences; he doesn't know them as part of his reality. And it's little things, like his calling you Ripper and yesterday he referred to Dawn as the key. Little bits slip past into this reality, but he's not sure where they come from."

"Incredible," Giles said, shaking his head. "We should probably continue this conversation with him as it does concern him most of all."

Buffy nodded and stood up, as they moved to leave, Giles gently took her arm.

"I haven't had a chance to ask," he said. "But how are you holding up?"

She smiled wistfully at him. "Good. I have him back, Giles. It's all I ever really wanted."

Giles looked uncomfortable and uneasy with her response. "Then, let's hope we can figure this all out."

They rejoined William at the kitchen island where he had set out tea and biscuits. Buffy perched on the bar stool while Giles opened his briefcase and began taking out papers and laying them on the counter.

He watched surreptitiously as William prepared the tea. A bone china cup and saucer, a paper thin wedge of lemon, expertly brewed Earl Gray, and a bowl of fine, white sugar set out. Everything exactly as Giles preferred it.

"Thank you," he said as William handed him the cup.

Giles knew from experience that Buffy, demonstrating abysmal judgment when it came to Earl Gray, took hers with two heaping teaspoons of sugar and milk. He watched as William took care of that without prompting. Finally, William poured himself a cup and looked up, suddenly aware of the silence that had fallen.

"What?"

Giles shook his head. "Nothing." he said.

Buffy sipped her tea and pulled some of the papers towards her. "On the phone Will said that what's going on here has nothing to do with the Shanshu Prophecy."

Giles nodded. "I don't think it does."

"But doesn't the prophecy refer to a vampire with a soul being rewarded with his human life?"

"Precisely," Giles said. He pointed to one of the documents. "I've been going over Wesley's notes. He had translated part of the prophecy and believed that the term Shanshu itself meant 'to live' and 'to die'. He determined that this vampire with a soul would fulfill his destiny and his humanity would be his reward."

William leaned forward. "Sounds pretty straight forward, mate. Spike had a soul, he saved the world during that thing in Sunnydale and apparently, here he is or rather, here I am, all human like."

"Seems so, doesn't it?" said Giles. "If Spike had been the vampire in question, this would all have happened after Sunnydale. Instead, he showed up in Los Angeles as a ghost." He frowned. "Certainly, the prophecy is vague. But, it is clear on one more thing."

Buffy leaned forward, holding her breath.

"The vampire will be restored to his mortal life." Giles shook his head. "Spike was not restored to his mortal life, he was given another mortal life."

Buffy frowned. "I - I must be missing something here. There must be some subtlety that I'm not getting."

"You see, Buffy," Giles tried to explain. "Prophecies are tricky. But if Spike had fulfilled his destiny and had his mortality given back to him, it would have happened right after the Sunnydale apocalypse and, well, he would still be Spike. He'd probably be living in Los Angeles, he'd have his soul, his heart would beat, and he'd be as mortal as the rest of us. But he would still be Spike, he'd still have his memories."

Buffy stared at him. "That's – that's-"

"A complete load of shite," William said. "What are you basing this on?"

Giles sat back, took his glasses off and wiped them. "The original document has been lost, I'm afraid. Oh, for certain we have some of Wesley's notes, but really, I'm merely going by what we've found in what's left of the Council documents, and well, what Angel knows."

Buffy stiffened at the mention of Angel's name and William smirked. "Right then, so you're basing your theory on some bits and pieces of paper flying about and some Nancy boy vampire with a soul who wants to be a real boy again?" He glanced over at Buffy and noted the look of utter shock on her face. "What? The poofter's name is Angel for fucks sakes. What am I supposed to think?"

She shook her head. "No-nothing. Just keep going," she said, giving Giles a pointed look.

"You're going to need something more than that to figure this out," William finished and sipped his tea.

Giles nodded in agreement. "Precisely. We can start with the prophecy, but it has its limitations. It's a prophecy, they are written in ancient languages and usually by the time we get them, we're missing half the document. It's an imprecise study. It is not a science."

"Blah, blah, blah," William said, tossing back the last of his tea. "Right then, here's a nice, precise question for the both of you." He stood up and leaned on the counter and stared them down. "Who cares? Who gives a bloody damn?"

"What?" Buffy asked faintly.

He tossed his arms open. "Really, what does it matter? Who cares if it's the Shanshu or bugaboo prophecy? I have a great life. As a matter of fact, ask anyone, and I have a perfect life. Why would I need to know anything about this prophecy? What would I do with that information?"

"What indeed," Giles murmured.

Buffy stared at him, her eyes wide and filled with tears. Only three days ago, she would have had an answer for him. It would have been a simple, straight forward answer. Understand the prophecy, figure out a way to reverse it, get Spike back.

Things were no longer that straight forward and simple.

William looked at her and noted the tears.

"Buffy?" he asked in concern, he hurried around the kitchen island to her side and cupped her face in his hand, tilted it up to him. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head. "I just want to understand," she whispered. "I just want you to know."

"Know what, love?"

"Me," she replied. "I just want you to know me."

"But I am getting to know you," he said, bewildered.

She pulled away from him, stood up and walked over to the window. She couldn't be near him. The temptation to throw herself in his arms and bury her head in the sand was too great.

"I want you to know who I was before - who we were before," she continued. "So that – that I could fix things."

"Fix things?" He glanced over at Giles, as if looking for answers. But Giles simply bowed his head and avoided him.

"I suppose it'd be easier this way," she said, turning from the view of the endless sea and looking instead at him. "You don't remember anything, so there's nothing I need to apologize for, fix, or make up to you. But I just don't do easy well."

William went to her and held her shoulders. He rubbed them gently and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Maybe it's time to give easy a try."

She stared at him, her green eyes glittering with tears. "I can't live with easy. Easy scares me. Easy equates happy and that gets snatched away."

"Life doesn't always have to be one apocalypse after another," he insisted.

She wiped a tear away and laughed roughly. "In the Buffyverse it always is."

He sighed and drew her into his arms. "You're daft, you know that? Here I'm offering you an easy way out and you want to make things difficult for us. What do you need, Buffy?"

She muffled something against his chest.

"What?"

She looked up at him, her face flushed with embarrassment. "Redemption."

Giles coughed on his last sip of tea and Buffy glared at him.

William suspected that what she wanted wasn't necessarily what they both needed, and he had his doubts that he could really give her what she needed, but he felt an inexplicable urge to try. "Alright, pet. You want to make things right, then we'll do what we have to, to make things right." He turned to Giles. "So, if it's not Shanshu then what is it?"

Giles' face lit up as he finally had both of them on the same page, his page. He opened a folder and carried it over to them.

"I think, but I'm not one hundred percent certain, that it's a prophecy dealing with hermetic magic and a 19th century cult based in England," he said.

Buffy heard a slight rumbling. She glanced over at William. "What's that?"

He frowned. "Garage door opening." He glanced thoughtfully at the clock. "Buffy, what day is it?"

"Tuesday, why?"

"Bleeding hell," he muttered. "She's going to kill me."

"Who's going to kill you?" Buffy asked, immediately going on the defensive.

"Jackie," he replied. "Jackie is going to kill me."

Buffy snorted. "I tried to kill you for years and never managed it. She doesn't stand a chance."

He shook his head, looking uncertain. "Well, pet, she's going to give it a damn good try." He turned and smiled at Giles. "Prepare yourself, Ripper, you're about to meet your match. Jackie reminds me a lot of you, now that I think of it. All stiff and proper and the like." He started towards the front of the house and glanced back. "Mind you, younger and better looking."

TBC