Prologue

She hated it. It had saved the world. It was the most beautiful and magical object she'd ever laid eyes on. And she hated it.

A glittering gem twirling freely on its gold chain; it was a vessel. A funnel, in fact. It took the soul from the man she loved and used it to destroy the Hellmouth in one redeeming act of self-sacrifice. Buffy wanted to throw it against the wall to shatter so that it may be destroyed as Spike had been. Her will didn't extend to her trembling hands, though.

She exhaled, sinking back into her pillow. It had arrived today, three months after the destruction of Sunnydale. A team of Slayers, overseen by Andrew, had been searching the rubble for any magical artifacts that might have survived. Sunnydale was home to a large number of demons and occultists. It made sense that it also housed some important mystical relics. Apparently, Andrew had sent the amulet to her as soon as it had been found. He had included a note that simply said "To remind you of your lost love".

Buffy hated the note, too. And she hated Andrew for writing it. He was just using her as a character in his romantic fantasy, after all.

She was in England, where the new Watcher's Council was forming. After the apocalypse that hadn't happened, she'd thrown herself into her work with wild abandon. Not a day went by that she wasn't busy tracking down new Slayers or training the ones who'd already been found. She left the administrative stuff to Giles and Dawn. She couldn't stand to be at a desk poring over papers. She had to be doing something. Moving. Fighting.

It would be a lie to say she cried every night. In fact, she rarely cried at all. You couldn't cry over something you were ignoring.

And then the amulet had arrived. She couldn't ignore it anymore. It was twirling in her face, reminding her of what had been lost that day. She realized that she was on the verge of blatant anthropomorphizing when she started thinking that the amulet was taunting her. She was tired, and her eyes were sore from crying.

"I wish," she whispered, voice raspy from her earlier sobs. "I wish that Spike was back with me. The way he was before he died. I just wish –"

She stopped. There was no point in finishing the sentence. She placed the amulet on her nightstand and waited for sleep to take her away from reality.

Chapter One: A Shadow From Another Time

Buffy knew she was dreaming. She'd thought that a muffled cry had woken her up, but the sight before her convinced her that she had to be dreaming. How else could it be that Spike was standing by her bedside?

"Spike?" The name escaped from her mouth with her barely noticing it. She blinked to make sure he wouldn't disappear.

He was Spike.

But he wasn't.

The hair was dark and longer, and he was wearing a strange outfit. In fact, the only Spike-like part of him was his face, which was undeniably Spike's. But it obviously wasn't Spike. Spike wouldn't be backing away nervously with a panicked look on his face. The posture was all wrong. This man was not Spike.

"I'm terribly sorry, miss. I'm…I think….I'm…" He stuttered, stumbling over the words that wouldn't come. He'd backed up to the point where he hit the wall, leaving him to lean against it as if his legs wouldn't support him anymore.

Buffy tossed the covers back and stood up, moving quickly towards him. This wasn't a dream. Because if it were a dream, she wouldn't know it was a dream so she wouldn't even be thinking that it might be a dream. So this was real. And this man in front of her had crystal blue eyes. Eyes she'd last seen gazing at her as the world fell down around them. Eyes that belonged to –

"Spike!" She didn't remember making the decision to hug him. Her arms were suddenly around him, and she was holding onto him as tightly as she could. But something was wrong. He tensed within her embrace, arms thrust out awkwardly to his side, and he held his breath.

Held his breath. His breath? Buffy recognized the subtle thump of a heartbeat inside his chest. Beating heart. Spike's heart didn't beat.

Buffy quickly released him as if shocked. The man who was not Spike exhaled in relief and sank down further against the wall, unable to meet her eyes.

Buffy felt the last trappings of sleep disappear as her mind began to process the situation more clearly. This man was in her bedroom, and he looked like Spike, yet was not Spike. This was William. A very human William. A very upset and confused human William.

"You're William," she stated. The swelling of emotion she'd felt upon first waking was almost instantly flattened.

The man who was not Spike seemed to recover himself at her prompting. He stood up a bit straighter and nodded nervously. "Yes, miss. My name is William Pratt. My deepest apologies for intruding on you…your…" A frightened gulp interrupted his sentence.

Buffy sighed. The man who was not Spike wouldn't look at her, and she could see he was trembling where he stood. She was out of her depth on this. And the crushing disappointing of finding William by her bed rather than Spike sent her overall mood from "depressed" to "bleakly apathetic to anything". Somebody else could deal with this.

***

Giles knew he was staying up much too late. He had been for the past several months. However, sacrifices had to be made when rebuilding an organization such as the Council. As the only remaining member, Giles had access to the vast wealth that the Council had horded. These months after the averted apocalypse had been dedicated to reforming and restructuring the Council into a vastly better entity.

Chief among his concerns had been giving the Slayers more autonomous power. Buffy and Faith were consulted on all major decisions, and, once more Slayers had been properly trained, they would become their own Watchers. It was Giles' hope that he would not need to remain on as the head forever, but that someone else would take his place. It pleased him to help in this time of reconstruction, but he was tired and ready to give the Slayers their independence from stodgy old men.

Small steps were needed, however. Although Faith had thrown herself into the job with a passion, Buffy had been less enthusiastic. She relegated herself to trivial tasks and had little interest in the decision-making process. He knew that Buffy was still mourning her loss during the battle with The First. Not only the loss of Spike, but the loss of her home. It would take some time before she was fully recovered.

Giles cursed to himself as he accidentally closed a window on his computer. He'd had no choice but to use one for his work on the Council, though he still despised the machine. He threw the mouse down and sat back in his chair. Perhaps he should go to bed. It was late, and he was becoming too short-tempered to be around technology.

They'd settled down in a renovated castle in England. It had been used by the former Council as a training location for Potentials. Now it served as a handy headquarters, as well as housing the core members of the new Council. Giles knew that, eventually, they would get scattered around the world. For now, however, this was home. Each person had a small set of rooms to provide them with a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and small den. So tiny were their living quarters, in fact, that they were called "cubbies" by the younger Slayers. The term had stuck, unfortunately.

A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. "Yes, come in," he said as he removed his glasses to rub his eyes. He'd gotten used to late-night messages being delivered at inopportune times.

He was surprised when Buffy entered. He'd assumed that she would rest for the night given the delivery that had been made earlier in the day. Here she was, however, and with a young man behind her. Giles stood up, sensing the tension that had entered the room.

Buffy's face was a blank, though her eyes were red from crying earlier in the evening. The man behind her was stooped over, head down. He was strangely dressed and, when he did glance up briefly, Giles noted the look of desperate confusion on his face.

"Buffy, what's wrong?" Giles asked automatically.

Buffy stepped aside to give the man room to enter. She waved an arm at him and shrugged. "This guy just appeared in my room, Giles. He's not supposed to be here."

"Just appeared?" He asked, looking more closely at the man. Something about him was strangely familiar, and yet recognition escaped him.

"It's Spike," Buffy said bluntly, arms crossed. "Or…not. It's William. Spike before he got turned. You know."

Spike. No, William. William looked up at Buffy in curiosity and Giles was suddenly struck with the resemblance. But what was a man from the 19th century doing here?

"Come in," Giles said. Buffy hesitated before entering, and William followed her lead.

Moving to his cabinet, he began making some tea. "Tea?" He asked.

"No," Buffy replied. "I'm just dropping him off. I'm not staying."

He put the water to boil and turned back to her. "Buffy, at least sit down. Tell me how he got here."

"Does it matter?" she snapped. "He's here. I don't want to deal with him. You do your thing and send him back."

William flinched at her harsh tone from where he was awkwardly standing off to the side.

Giles decided that Buffy needed his attention now more than the Victorian gentleman. He approached her and spoke softly. "Buffy, something had to have happened to cause him to appear here. It would be helpful to hear any explanation from you. Perhaps you were trying a spell – "

He was cut off by her laughter. "A spell? Giles, I think I'm the last person who would try something like that. I did nothing. And, you know what? I don't care. I'm tired. He's yours. Bye."

She walked out.

Giles sighed. Some things didn't change. He turned now to the young man. "You must forgive her, I'm afraid. She is still recovering from the loss of a…comrade." He couldn't bring himself to give Spike any more status than that in regards to Buffy.

William merely nodded.

Giles extended a hand. "I'm Rupert Giles."

William returned the handshake with a cold, sweaty grip. "William Pratt. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Of course. You look pleased," he smiled, trying his best to put this man at ease. Whatever his prejudice against Spike, this man was not the violent vampire that had come to them after a century's worth of slaughter. Obviously, the Council's speculations as to Spike's violent human past were off the mark. It was apparent to Giles that William was more than harmless. "Please, sit down." Giles offered him a seat.

Giles turned back to serve the tea as the young man sank down in one of the cushioned armchairs. William eagerly took the cup and raised it immediately to his lips, decorum forgotten in the shock of his situation.

"So," Giles sat down across from him. "Why don't you tell me the sequence of events that led you here."

"It's difficult to…it's very disorienting," William said. Giles noticed he spoke with an proper accent rather than the North London accent he was accustomed to from Spike. He supposed that changed when he became a vampire.

"I was leaving a party," William continued. "I was on my way home so as to not keep Mother waiting. There was a furious flash of light, and I found myself in that young woman's bedchambers." A blush spread across his face. "I deeply apologize. I certainly didn't intend to see her in such a manner."

Giles took a sip from his tea to cover his grin. Buffy's nightwear consisting of a tank top and sweat pants would surely be seen as scandalous by someone from the Victorian era. "What year is it?" Giles asked.

William looked up, making brief eye contact. The question seemed to surprise him. "Why, it is 1880, Mr. Giles."

The year Spike was turned, if Giles recalled correctly. He paused to gather his thoughts. A part of him wondered if it would be best not to let William know that he was now in 2003. The shock would be overwhelming, to say the least. However, he knew that it would be impossible to make any sort of explanation other than the truth. Already, William had been exposed to numerous 21st century objects. Why, his computer was just behind him. He couldn't possibly find a way to explain everything in terms of it still being 1880.

No, they would find a way to send William back to his proper time. Beforehand, they would have to do a memory spell on him to erase his recollection of this time. In the interim, it was best to let him know exactly what was going on. Presumably, this was a reasonably intelligent, adult man who would be able to adapt accordingly.

"William," Giles prefaced, putting his teacup down and leaning forward slightly. "This will most likely come as something of a shock. However, the year is now 2003. Somehow, and I'm not certain of how yet, you got brought here to the future."

Giles sat silently to give William time to process that bombshell. The young man sat still, staring at Giles incredulously. Finally, he shook his head. "That's…that's not…it's not possible."

Giles stood up at that and went to his desk. He rummaged through the papers that littered the surface until he found the newspaper he'd gotten a few days ago. He turned, handing it to William and silently pointing at the date at the top.

William's eyes focused on the date, and he briefly looked over the headlines. Then he displayed a flash of Spike-like quickness and dropped the newspaper as if it were on fire. His tea, likewise, fell from his hand to the stone floor, and William bolted from his seat, steadily backing away from Giles.

"No," he shook his head. "This is a prank of some nature. I – I don't accept this sort of nonsense."

Giles put out a calming hand. He supposed it was a testament to his lifetime as a Watcher that he took William's time displacement in stride. "I know it's hard to accept, but think rationally about it. Look around you, William. Does your time have such objects?" Giles motioned to the television and the computer.

William continued to shake his head, but he openly looked around the room. Giles had no doubt that many of the furnishings and objects would be unfamiliar to him.

"The future," William whispered. Then he rubbed his brow and frowned. "I'm afraid I feel quite ill."

Giles supposed that, for now, William could stay with him and sleep on the couch. It wouldn't do to leave him on his own while he was adjusting to this new time. He turned back to the cabinet and fetched a couple sleeping pills from his medicine chest.

"Here," he handed them to William. "These will help you sleep. Get some rest here on the sofa. When you wake up, we'll find out what can be done for you."

As he gathered blankets and pillows for his unexpected houseguest, Giles mentally prepared for the next day. He would have to make some calls, but those could wait until the morning. He hoped Buffy would be more forthcoming, but he feared that she would not so long as William was present. He might have to resort to another method.

***

"So he's Spike?"

Willow picked up the brush and glanced at Kennedy in the mirror. Her girlfriend was sitting on the edge of the bed, lacing up her boots. She sighed. She'd hoped for a vacation of the fun type after the whole apocalypse that didn't happen. Instead, it had been more work. Kennedy loved it. She took every opportunity to go out and slay or train or basically do anything that involved fighting. Willow was stuck doing the boring paperwork. Which sounded like it might be fun when she heard about it. Cause, paperwork, right? Kinda like studying. Just not. With studying, you actually learned stuff. Paperwork you just kinda worked with papers. Not as much fun at all.

"Not really," she answered Kennedy as she began brushing her hair. "He's like pre-Spike. Spike before he became Spike."

"Weird," Kennedy laughed.

"Yeah. And not on the Hellmouth anymore, either, so really weird. But we'll figure it out and get him back in no time." Long hair was a pain to brush every morning. She considered, as she often did, cutting her hair. But the short hair was for College-Willow and now she was Adult-Willow who had long hair, and it made sense in her own head.

"So," Kennedy had finished with her boots and was directly behind Willow now. She grabbed the brush from her hand and began to brush her hair for her. "Mr. Giles asked you to talk to Buffy first?"

"Just to see what happened. She didn't say much last night, apparently. Giles thought she'd talk to a friend," Willow replied, enjoying the feel of her girlfriend stroking her hair. She wasn't sure how helpful she'd be with Buffy. Buffy and her didn't talk so much anymore. And Buffy had been especially avoidy since the Hellmouth had been destroyed.

"Look, I gotta jet. Training some of the kids today. Be brilliant," Kennedy said, leaning over Willow's shoulder for a quick kiss before leaving.

Well, darn. Kennedy had been her last reason not to leave her cubby and walk to Buffy's. She couldn't help but feel a little hesitant to talk to Buffy. But Kennedy had told her to "be brilliant", and she couldn't let her down.

Willow and Buffy didn't live far from each other. Actually, being in the castle kinda reminded Willow of living in a dorm in college. Just more damp and with less frat guys.

She knocked on Buffy's door, hoping she wasn't gonna wake her up. There was an immediate answer, though, as Buffy opened the door slightly. Well, she was already dressed, so that was a good sign.

"Hey, Buffy," Willow waved, smiling brightly. "Can I come in?"

Buffy frowned but opened the door wider to let her in. Most people had decorated their cubbies by now, but Buffy's was still pretty sparse. It wasn't lack of money. No, Willow knew that Buffy had money now. She guessed that Buffy didn't feel like making the effort to personalize her living space.

"Lemme guess," Buffy said while walking over to where she was making some coffee. "Giles called you this morning to tell you about my late-night visitor and see if you could get the background details from me."

"Well, yes, actually," Willow sat down. She should have known that Buffy would figure this out pretty quick.

Buffy sighed and poured two cups of coffee before walking over and handing one to Willow. She sat down on the other end of the couch. "I thought of something last night after I dropped him off at Giles'."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I kinda wished for something last night. I," she looked down. "I wished that Spike was back here. The way he was before he died. I think it came true. But I wasn't specific enough. So he's back the way he was before he died the first time."

Willow frowned. "But there was nobody around to grant the wish, was there?"

"No. That's why I didn't think of it until this morning. But what else could it be?"

Willow took a polite sip of the coffee even though Buffy was horrible at making the stuff. If Buffy were right and William did appear here as a result of a wish, then it may be difficult to send him back. After all, his travel through time obviously didn't affect the timeline any. And wishes were next to impossible to reverse unless you knew the person granting the wish, but there was no one else there. She frowned. This was not of the good.

"You can send him back, right?" Buffy asked. Willow looked up at her friend and could see the stark desperation in her eyes. Willow tried to imagine what it would be like to have Tara show up. But not Tara. Tara from the past who didn't know her and who was completely different. It would be a constant reminder of her Tara that she'd lost and –

Willow stopped her own thoughts there because they were bad thoughts and she didn't want to think them anyway. Instead, she considered how to answer Buffy's question in a comforting, yet honest fashion.

"We'll do some research." That was honest. Good. "You can go about your normal work today. Giles and I will take care of William." And there was comforting. Willow was proud of herself. She'd sorta sucked at the supportive best friend thing these past few years.

She could tell it wasn't the answer Buffy wanted to hear, though. But she nodded anyway. "Thanks."

Dawn crashed through the door, skidding to a halt partway into the room. Willow froze in mid-sentence at the interruption.

"Hi, guys," Dawn tucked a strand of hair behind her ear in a casual manner. Giles could tell by her red face and lack of breath that she'd been running for a while. "I heard that Spike's here."

She looked at William who was sitting nervously at the edge of the sofa. They were in Giles' office, and Willow had just gone over the details of what she'd found. William had been very quiet throughout, though Giles supposed that this was probably all very overwhelming for him.

"Heard from whom?" Giles asked.

"Uh...Kennedy. Some of the girls were talking about it," Dawn hadn't taken her eyes off William. "That's not him, though."

"No," Willow's brow was furrowed in annoyance. "No, it's not Spike. It's William. And Kennedy shouldn't be all talky about this anyway."

"Well, it's going round the rumor mill now," Dawn entered the room fully and sat down. "So, fill me in. How'd he get here?"

"We actually just went over this, Dawn. I'm not sure if William wants to hear it again or –" Giles said.

William glanced at him sharply at that. "I...I'm afraid I didn't understand most of it, so..."

Willow looked at Giles who nodded at her to review what she'd learned. It hadn't taken long for her to do the necessary research. It was barely lunchtime before she had met with them to explain her findings.

"Well," Willow sat up straight. "You know Buffy got that amulet thingy yesterday, right?"

Dawn just nodded.

"See, nobody really knew much about it or what it does or...anything, really. And we didn't have time to find out before using it so we just kinda didn't. But now we do and it's actually a pretty ancient magical artifact. Kinda like a Swiss army knife of artifacts. It can do a buncha different things. One of them was to, you know, burn up Spike. But last night Buffy used it, inadvertently, to make a wish."

Dawn blinked. "She wished for William?"

"No," Giles interjected. "She wished for Spike the way he was before he died."

"Leave it to Buffy to muck up a wish," Dawn frowned while rolling her eyes.

"Yeah," Willow said. "So then, boom! William!" Willow motioned to William then with her hands.

"And how do we send him back?" Dawn asked.

Willow looked at Giles again, but this time he could tell that she was begging for him to take over. He complied. "We don't," he answered.

"Why not?"

Willow spoke up again. "Because there's nowhere to send him back to, Dawn. What the wish did was duplicate William at that point and send the copy here. If we send him back, then there'd be two Williams and that would be completely not good."

Giles kept an eye on William who was being very muted in his reaction. He wondered if the man were even following the conversation. "William," Giles prompted him to look up. "Do you understand what this means? We can't send you back to your time."

William nodded, though it was the nod of a person who understood without accepting.

"So," Dawn spoke quietly. "What's gonna happen to him?"

"He'll stay with me," Giles said. "Until he adjusts to this time. It'll take some effort, but he will adapt. Once he is settled, he'll be free to do as he pleases."

"Do you have any questions?" Willow asked William in full teacher-mode.

There was a very long awkward silence as everybody's eyes turned to William. The young man looked as if he weren't accustomed to being the center of attention.

"Who is Spike?" He asked hesitantly.

"What?" Willow was obviously blind-sided by the question.

"People keep referring to me as 'Spike'. I had assumed that I must bear some resemblance to this person, however your fantastic explanation for my travel suggests something more that I don't understand."

It was the most he'd spoken so far. Giles was pleased to hear him speak without stuttering, as well. He had tried to carry on a conversation with William in the morning hours, but the man had been reticent to engage him in any sort of dialogue.

Giles had been hoping, however, that this subject wouldn't come up. It wasn't pleasant to have to tell William about what had lain ahead of him had he progressed along his natural time. There was no avoiding it, though, and neither of the girls looked eager to launch into an explanation.

"Spike was a vampire," Giles said.

"There's no such thing, Mr. Giles," William said as if reciting some dogmatic belief.

"Just as there's no such thing as magical time travel?" Giles replied. William fell silent. "William, within the normal timeline, you would have died the night you were brought here. You would have been killed, and then a vampire demon would have entered your corpse. This demon would come to call himself 'Spike' and would live for over a century."

William paled to the complexion of his vampire counterpart at that explanation. "A demon..."

"Yes," Giles continued. "Not a very nice one, either."

"Then why would Miss Summers wish for his return?"

That was something Giles didn't want to think about, in all honesty. He'd never adjusted to Buffy's attachment to the vampire. While he could freely admit that Spike had proven his worth in destroying the Hellmouth, he couldn't give him the blind admiration that he seemed to garner from some of the others. Even with a soul. This man sitting before him was just one reason for that. William Pratt had died so that Spike could live. And William was just the first in a long line of Spike's victims.

Willow spoke up, obviously sensing Giles' reluctance to provide an answer. "See, Spike did some good things for us. It's kinda complicated. But he got his soul so he was all with the good-making for a while. And he died averting an apocalypse so big plusses there. That's why everybody's like 'Oh, Spike!' when they see you."

William shook his head. "There is no good in a demon. No doubt this creature of evil must have had some darker purpose for his actions."

"I don't think he did," Dawn said.

William ignored her, however. "Is this commonplace in this time? Battling the demonic forces of the world? Such things are told as superstitious stories in my time, and yet they seem readily accepted by you."

Giles was happy that the conversation had moved away from Spike. "Actually, no, William," he answered. "We're involved for various reasons, but most people in the world know nothing about the demons or our work to fight it. This actually may be a good time to start getting you adjusted to this time."

Giles stood, motioning to William to do the same.

"What are you gonna do?" Dawn asked.

"I will use the time-honored tradition of getting him accustomed to the culture of the time by showing him some television."

***

After some brief questioning, Dawn found out that Buffy had taken a group of new Slayers out to train and wouldn't be back till late. She had wanted to talk to Buffy about Spike. Well, about William. Because Spike was dead. And William was here now.

It was confusing. Not least of which because she and Spike had never really reconciled after that one year. She didn't regret it, actually. Her Spike had died when he went to get his soul. Her Spike of the rebellious snark and big brother affection had betrayed her trust and then died. The vampire who'd came back ensouled wasn't that Spike. Wasn't her Spike. He was Buffy's Spike. And Dawn hadn't wanted anything to do with him.

She paused at Giles' door. She could hear the TV blaring from inside, and she knew William was watching, probably confused. This man was different. He wasn't her Spike, but he wasn't Buffy's Spike either. But he hadn't betrayed her like her Spike had, and he hadn't taken the place of her Spike like Buffy's had so she didn't feel any resentment towards him. She felt sympathy for him, instead, being thrust into a completely new world.

She pushed the door open. William was sitting on the sofa watching the news. He had the face of a man that...well, that had been sent a century into the future. He stood up quickly when she entered.

"Hey," she said, looking around. Giles wasn't to be seen so he was probably back in his office.

William shuffled his feet. No, this man definitely wasn't Spike. Spike projected an image that he was taller and bigger than he actually was. His personality exceeded his physical presence. William hunched in on himself as if trying to make himself disappear. He seemed much smaller than Dawn remembered. She was almost as tall as he was.

"Mind if I join you?" She asked when he didn't say anything.

His eyes flicked to the TV quickly, then moved back to her feet. "We...we haven't been introduced."

"Oh, yeah," she said. She'd forgotten that. She put her hand out to try to match him in his formality. "I'm Dawn. Buffy's my sister."

He looked startled at her outstretched hand and bowed slightly instead of taking it. "William Pratt. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Cool," she said, putting her hand down before it offended him further. Introductions out of the way, she walked over and plunked herself down on the sofa. William carefully sat on the edge of the sofa as far away from her as possible. He was obviously uncomfortable with her presence. "Where's Giles?"

"He had some work to attend to so he's left me here to watch this...television. He will return at dinnertime." William's attention was back on the TV and the weather report that was currently showing.

So no Giles. Too bad. He could have been helpful in defusing some of the awkwardness. "Don't you have any other clothes?" she asked, taking in his slept-in suit.

William looked down, blushing. A hand went up to smooth a wrinkle in his jacket. "No. Mr. Giles is taking me out this evening to find suitable clothing for me."

"Oh," she replied. "Lucky you. Giles never takes me clothes shopping."

William didn't seem to know how to respond to that. Instead, he turned back towards the TV just in time for the sportscaster to start going over the latest soccer matches. No, football matches. She still wasn't used to this British stuff.

"Am I making you nervous?" she asked.

He almost jumped at the question, swallowing in a nervous gesture. "I...well...I...yes," he said. He looked at her directly then as he finally gave her a definite answer.

"Why? Cause I'm being friendly and trying to talk to you?"

"Well, yes." At her look, he continued. "It's not...you and I alone together would surely cause people to talk. It's not proper."

She laughed. "You need to watch more of that TV, William."

He flinched, glancing at the mentioned object. "Things do seem...looser in this time."

"Way looser. You know what people would think if they heard that you and I watched TV together? They'd think 'So?' Cause nobody cares about that sort of stuff now."

"So," he said. "People do not care about standards of decorum anymore?"

"We have standards. I mean, it's kinda gross if people are making out in public or something. But it's not as strict as your time. Not that I know much about your time except that you were all gentlemen and corsets and stuff."

They both fell silent as they watched a commercial for McDonald's. "Actually," William said. "Most gentlemen in my time don't wear corsets."

She frowned as she tried to work out what he meant. It wasn't until she looked at him and saw the slight smile accompanied by another blush that she realized he was making a joke. She laughed.

****

Giles regretted his choice of shopping venue almost as soon as they'd entered the store. He'd been thinking about the Council's budget when he had chosen Tesco, and he hadn't given much consideration to William's reaction.

The young man froze as they entered the large supermart. It was William's first trip out of the castle, and he'd already been amazed by the car ride here. Now he stood rooted to the dirty floor, blinking and looking overwhelmed by the sheer massiveness of the store.

William jumped as Giles gently took his elbow. "I know it's different from what you're used to, William, but it's not as bad once you get inside." He smiled in what he hoped was a comforting manner. Giles hadn't had much chance to be of comfort to anyone recently.

It worked, apparently, as William seemed to resolve himself. He nodded and allowed himself to be led to the clothing section with Giles. Giles quickly grabbed a trolley since they would be picking up a good amount.

"I think three changes of clothing for now will be sufficient until we can find some work to have you start earning your own wages," Giles said on the way. "Also, some pajamas are necessary as are...er...undergarments."

He wasn't sure how much William was actually listening or even understanding him, but Giles continued to talk anyway. "Also, we should get some toiletries for you. Deodorant, toothbrush, and such." He turned to look at his charge, but William's eyes were scanning the women's clothing section they were currently walking through.

Giles thought back to this morning where William had been baffled by his suggestion that he take a shower. To his chagrin, Giles had forgotten the different standards of hygiene during Victorian times. William probably was accustomed to a weekly bath and perhaps a cool dip in the morning.

They reached the men's section, and Giles quickly moved to the trouser rack. He had already decided that jeans were out of the question for now. Instead, he was browsing through the casual trousers for William when he realized that he didn't know William's size. He glanced up at the man.

William stood off to the side looking at the rack with a look of skepticism. "This is..."

William probably didn't know his size. Giles would have to guess and have him try it on. "A clothing rack," he explained before turning back to the trousers. "We mass produce our clothing now. You come to a store such as this and look through the rack for something in your size."

Giles took advantage of the puzzled silence to grab several different pairs of trousers of different sizes for William to try on.

"And then where do you go to get them fitted?" William asked.

Giles turned to William, trousers slung over his arm. "You don't. Now let's have you try these on. Once we have some trousers for you we can pick out some shirts. Those will be easier."

Giles was not looking forward to shopping for boxers for William.

A quick glance around led them to the dressing rooms. Giles instructed William on proper dressing room procedure and sent him inside. He took a seat on one of the benches to wait for William to finish.

It would have been more appropriate to take William to a better establishment to purchase clothing. However, Giles had trouble justifying spending much of the Council's money on William. Besides, he would have to adjust to these modern shops eventually.

"Mr. Giles?" There was a tentative call from inside the dressing room.

"Yes?"

"None of these trousers fit."

Giles blinked. He'd been fairly certain that at least one of them would have fit the young man. "Are they too big or too small?" He stood up, prepared to go gather some more sizes.

"Actually, they are too short. That is, they don't fully cover my waist. And the legs are also very long."

Giles had a sudden epiphany as to why men didn't go clothes shopping together.

"Are you decent? I'll come in and take a look." Giles said.

The door opened and Giles quickly entered, hoping nobody would see him joining another man in the dressing room. It was bad enough that an observant person would notice the two pairs of legs under the door.

William was wearing the mid-sized trousers that Giles had picked out for him. He had discarded his jacket onto the bench behind him and was tugging at the waistline. A cursory look told Giles that the trousers fitted fine.

He told William as such.

"But the cut is completely wrong, Mr. Giles." William continued to attempt to pull up the waist.

"It's the style now, unfortunately. You'll get used to the trousers...er...hanging low."

William didn't seem happy with that answer, so Giles continued. "Nothing to worry about, actually. Just give it another decade and the style will have changed completely."

Giles quickly left to pick out two more pairs of trousers. He also grabbed some shirts for William to try on.

It was easily the longest shopping trip of Giles' life. William had been fascinated by the material that was being used. He'd been distraught over the tags that irritated his neck. And he'd been shocked at how little clothing was required to be considered "decent" nowadays. It had taken a couple hours for Giles to provide a modest wardrobe for him, complete with socks, shoes, and boxers. As if that hadn't been bad enough, the trip to the bath aisle had prompted a long conversation about modern personal hygiene that William seemed alternately curious and embarrassed about.

As Fate obviously wasn't on his side that day, there was a tremendous line at the checkout, and William's current state of dress drew a good amount of attention. William was obviously the sort of man who didn't like receiving attention.

So they waited in line for 30 minutes. William fidgeted and read the magazine headlines, and Giles began to wish that he'd let Dawn take him shopping.

Finally, though, they were back at the car, loading bags into the boot. William had gaped at the cost of everything, and Giles had had to reassure him that £170 was a lot less money than what he was accustomed to.

"I imagine you're hungry," Giles said as he got into the car. "We can stop somewhere on the way back to the castle to eat."

William nodded, struggling with his seat belt. "There was an ad on the television this afternoon for a Scottish restaurant. Might we go there?"

Giles frowned. "What was it called?"

"McDonald's."

Giles laughed. "That's not really a restaurant, William. They serve food, but it won't be anything near what you're used to."

There was a snap as William finally clicked his seat belt into place. "It must be good, though. Everybody in the ad looked quite happy with the food."

"Yes, I'm sure they did," Giles said while starting the car. "Very well. Let's go to McDonald's."

Why not? He'd taken William to Tesco, after all. Capping the trip off with a dinner at McDonald's seemed wholly appropriate.

As Giles expected, William was dumbfounded when they actually arrived at the "restaurant". He had stared blankly at the menu behind the counter for a few minutes before Giles ordered a standard hamburger meal for him. Once they got their food, Giles led them to a booth at the back. William sat uncomfortably at the edge of his seat. He was careful to keep his elbows off the table and was staring at his hamburger as if disbelieving it were really food.

"The advertisement you watched did show people eating, did it not?" Giles asked while salting his chips.

"Yes, but I presumed there would be more on the menu. Are all restaurants like this?" William followed Giles' lead and picked up a chip.

"This is a fast food restaurant. It specializes in getting you your food...fast. We can take you out to a more traditional restaurant tomorrow. Perhaps Dawn could come. You two seemed to get on well."

William choked as he swallowed the chip. He coughed, tears forming at his eyes. Giles pushed his drink towards him to prompt him to drink. "That is very greasy," William commented.

"That's what McDonald's specializes in."

William nodded and pushed the chips to the side, focusing on the hamburger instead.

"You did get along with Dawn, didn't you?" Giles asked again.

William looked up, "Yes, she's a very charming young woman." He took a small bite from his burger. This seemed more acceptable to William as there was no coughing fit this time.

"I'm glad you think so. Would you be agreeable to her helping out with your transition to this time? I will have to ask her, of course, but I'm certain she'd be eager to assist."

"I don't wish to be a bother to anyone," William said when he had finished chewing.

"And you're not. In a way, it's sort of our business to help those who fall victim to the supernatural. This would include you." Giles didn't want to mention that Dawn had been very fond of his vampire counterpart and that she may wish to be close to William simply to keep the memory of Spike alive. It was best not to burden William with uncomfortable talk about what fate he would have met had he remained in his time.

"Very well. Then if she is agreeable, I'd be happy to have her help," William said. "Also, would it be expected for me to give some form of condolence to her sister, Miss Summers, for her loss? It might help to alleviate her grief at my presence." This last suggestion was spoken in a hush tone as if William were unsure of asking it.

Giles shook his head. "Buffy grieves in her own way. I think it would be best if you keep your distance from her for the time being. What she's going through is in no way your fault, of course."

The younger man nodded. "I suppose I'm just unaccustomed to young women being so distraught in my presence."

Giles smiled.

****

"You're wrong," Buffy declared. Willow sat across from her. As this morning, they were in Buffy's cubby, and Willow was filling her in on what had been found out. Buffy had been out all day training and keeping her mind off this whole William thing, confident that her best friend wouldn't let her down. But she had.

"I don't think I am," Willow said. "This amulet thing. It's called the Amulet of Taylieah. It's got some wonky powers. Even if I could do a time travel spell to send him back, it would just muck things up more. He has to stay." Buffy didn't reply. "Or, we could, you know, kill him." Willow joked.

Buffy didn't crack a smile, though. She stood, going into her bedroom and coming back out again before Willow could call after her. In her hand she held the Amulet of Screw Her Life Up. "So, this thing has some special powers, right? Why can't it undo its own wish?"

Willow shook her head, "I don't think it works like that. What I was able to find were some transcriptions of some scrolls on the thing. It just laid out some of its powers. It didn't really specify the how or why on them."

The chain rattled as Buffy violently shook the amulet. "It grants wishes, right? We know that? So if I wish for William to go back, it would just send him back, right? If I wish for Spike – the real Spike – to be here, now, it could do that, right? So why doesn't it, Willow? Why the hell doesn't it?"

She knew she was coming dangerously close to throwing a tantrum and she didn't care. Already she could feel tears prickling her eyes, but she didn't want to cry. Not in front of Willow.

In the early hours of the morning before Willow had stopped by, Buffy had tried some of those wishes on the amulet. It hadn't obliged her.

"Buffy," Willow stood and rushed forward to her friend. She held up her hand as if she were about to grab the amulet but stopped at the last second. "I'm so sorry, Buffy. I don't know. I can look some more for you. It's old. It may just not be working right. Like magical Alzheimer's or something."

Her cheeks were burning and her jaw hurt from biting back her tears. She nodded, clasping the amulet and turning to face away from Willow. She wanted to tell her to leave, but she was pretty sure that only sobs would come out if she opened her mouth. She didn't want that to happen.

Willow seemed to get the message, though. "I'll see what else I can find, Buffy. Really, I will. And Xander comes back from Cleveland tomorrow so we'll get him to help, too." There was a tentative pat on her shoulder. Then she felt Willow's presence disappear as the door shut.

It wasn't fair. She stared down at the stupid glittery amulet in her hand. So she'd gotten one wish on it, and she'd screwed it up. If she'd changed her wording, just slightly, Spike would be with her now. Instead, she had the man who was not Spike walking around with his face. She hated him. She didn't care if he's what Spike started as. She wanted Spike. Not that impostor.

Tears began to fall against her will. She threw the amulet against the wall, hoping it would shatter. It clattered against the stone with a loud racket and fell to the ground.

Buffy furiously wiped her eyes. Crying wasn't helping. Crying never helped. Instead, she opened her chest and grabbed a stake. Tonight, she'd hunt.

William smoothed his shirt as he stood in front of the mirror. Mr. Giles had been thoughtful enough to remove the tags from his clothing, but the material still felt uncomfortable against his skin. He was also still not used to the cut of the trousers. He had to refrain from trying to tug them higher.

This was the fashion as he'd seen it on the television. If he was to be trapped in this time, then it would be best if he adopted their customs. Even when he didn't understand them.

It had been a strange and disorienting experience. He'd been walking down the dark London street, shredded bits of poetry in hand, and then he had appeared in that woman's bedchambers. He'd been convinced that he'd been knocked out and was dreaming at that point. He hadn't woken up, though.

As if he hadn't been enough of an outcast in his own time. Everything he did here was subject to ridicule. While people had been kind to him, he could sense their wariness. The younger Miss Summers, while very friendly, seemed taken with amusement by him. He'd long been used to being the source of his peer's amusement.

He knew a part of their discomfort was his resemblance to this Spike. Even the thought of a demon invading his expired body was enough to cause him to tremble. Whatever heroic efforts might have been made recently, William had no doubt that he would prefer not to know about the violent carnage that had been committed by a creature with his face.

It was distasteful.

He hoped to make it clear to these people that he was not Spike. In his first night here, William had fantasies of astounding them with his written verse. They would surely see his gentleness and creative passion and would appreciate him for it. But every step he took seemed to be the wrong one, and he was forever being corrected by Mr. Giles on the proper way of behaving in this time. William had spent his entire life striving to conform to the standards of his own time.

It would have been easy to class this group as vulgarians. However, William had discovered, while watching television, that their behavior was the norm now. And so William had decided to simply observe without judging. He believed that to be the first step in adjusting to his new life.

For it was a new life. He was trapped here. Plucked out of his own time and stranded in this one. The thought overwhelmed him if he dwelt upon it for any amount of time. Instead, he put his efforts into adjusting and learning. It wasn't as if he had much to miss from his own time, after all.

The only thing that entered his mind was Mother. He knew that he had died the night he'd been brought here. He wondered often how Mother had fared after his death, though he was hesitant to ask Mr. Giles to see if he knew anything. His mother had been ill, and without him to look after her she may not have…

William knew that was a silly thought to have. Regardless of circumstances, his mother had passed away by now. It was, after all, a century later. What did it matter how it happened?

He sighed, rubbing a towel through his hair. He wasn't sure if he would ever get used to the shower. It was like going out into a warm rain shower to get clean. Mr. Giles didn't have a tub, though, so he had to make do with it.

He was not sure as to what his fate would be here. Mr. Giles had spoken of work the day before, but William wasn't certain if he were suitable for any occupations during this time.

Thinking about that led him to wonder why Fate brought him here at all. Surely there must be some higher purpose to him being thrown into the future. William couldn't entertain the thought that random chance heralded his arrival.

He was now in the company of people who took part in extraordinary events of a nature that he had never thought to believe. Perhaps he was to help them in their fight against the demons of the world.

***

Xander held his hands up in front of him to stop the onslaught of explanations. "Wait, wait, wait. Let me get this straight." He turned to Giles. "Buffy made a wish for Spike, the souled wonder, to come back here." He glanced at Willow. "This amulet thingamawhatsit did a little magic thing and brought back William, who is Spike before he caught a bad case of vampiritis." He stopped while facing Dawn. "And you want me to what?"

The story about William's sudden appearance didn't surprise him too much. Xander had spent far too long with the Scoobies to be fazed by wacky stuff like that happening.

"Listen," Dawn said. "He needs people to help him adjust. Giles and I are helping, but you're like a peer, so you can do…you know…guy stuff."

"I don't do 'guy stuff' with Spike," Xander protested.

"That's good!" Willow said. "Cause it's not Spike. Like, really, really not Spike."

Giles just nodded in agreement.

Xander sighed. He'd just flown in from Cleveland. He'd hoped to hunker down and sleep off the jet lag when he got here, but these three had gotten to him first. The last thing he wanted to do was spend quality time with a guy who was almost Spike.

"What about Buffy? I'm sure she's happy having her vampire back," Xander said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. So what if Buffy had her Spike back while he was still mourning his own loss?

"Buffy's not going to help on this one," Giles said. His tone made it clear that he wouldn't discuss the issue any further.

Xander rolled his eyes.

If he'd had the amulet, he could have wished for her to be back. How appropriate that she would return to him by a wish.

Stupid thought.

There was a tentative knock on the door. Giles stood from where he was seated behind his desk and opened the door, ushering in a guy wearing some Wal-mart clothes. Xander had had his fair share of clothes from the 'mart. He knew the look well.

"William," Giles said, presenting the guy to Xander. "This is Xander Harris. He's a friend. Xander, this is William."

The guy, William, nodded nervously in his direction. Xander blinked.

No, this was too perfect. This guy standing uncomfortably in front of him with tiny old lady glasses and floppy hair…this was Spike? Spike of the Big Badness and friend-seducing?

Xander giggled, looking around at the others for them to share in his mirth. The giggle turned into an all-out laugh, and Xander found himself leaning on Giles' desk to steady himself.

One of the girls slapped his shoulder, though he couldn't tell which one through his own laughter.

"Xander, stop it!" Okay, that was Dawn.

"Sorry, sorry," he said, biting back his glee. He looked back at William who was staring intensely at his own feet. "William, good to meet you. You're really, really not what I was expecting."

William glanced up at him over his spectacles. "I keep getting that reaction."

Xander stood up straight and clapped a hand on the shorter man's shoulder. "Come on. There's a pub a ways out. We can celebrate my arrival."

"What about not wanting to hang out with Spike?" Willow asked.

"This," Xander indicated William. "Is not Spike. This is William. Keep up, Will." He smiled. "Any of you ladies wanna join, then you can pick up the tab. Uh…same to you, Giles."

The three declined. Xander shrugged them off and went with William to get a drink.

***

He was always surrounded by women. Now, that may sound like a good thing at first. But after seven years, Xander had gotten to the point of latching onto any bit of testosterone he could find. Especially now with all the mini-Slayers being trained.

See, the whole point of being "the only guy" is to have a harem situation with all the girls going ga-ga over you. Xander, to his dismay, just didn't have that. So he desperately wanted some guy company. Giles didn't count as he was old and British. Andrew got along a little too well with the girls. William, well, he was British, but not as old as Giles. Beggars couldn't be choosers.

William didn't drink from the pint in front of him. Instead, he was looking around the quiet pub in fearful wonder. It was still early in the day and the only other people in here were the alcoholics. Xander didn't care. He deserved a drink.

He nudged William. "Don't like beer?"

William shook his head, "I do, however, I haven't had much opportunity to visit an…establishment such as this."

Xander shrugged. "Just a pub. So you're really from the past?"

William focused his attention on Xander. "Well, yes, I am.

"Okay, I gotta ask, because this has always bugged me. But what the hell did you guys do all day without TVs? Seriously?"

"We…um…work. We work and partake in various hobbies and amusements. There are many leisurely ways to pass the time."

Xander shook his head. "I don't get it. Gotta love the TV."

"Yes, Mr. Giles has been having me watch television in order to learn the customs of this time. It's very interesting."

Xander briefly wished that Spike, the real Spike, were back with them just so he could tease him for having been a big dork as a human. Why on earth does he get such great taunting material on the guy after he dies? Life just wasn't fair.

"Just to let you know, but not everything you see there is like real life," Xander said after taking a gulp of his beer. "It's all…TV-like, instead. It's different."

William frowned. "How so?"

"Well, there's a lot to TV. I mean, you probably see people shooting each other and doing all sorts of cool martial arts moves and stuff. Yeah, that doesn't happen. Not really."

William looked confused.

"What have you been watching?"

"The news station."

Xander waved his hands in front of him. "That's it?"

"That's what Mr. Giles recommended I watch."

Xander rolled his eyes. "Leave it to Giles. You won't learn anything from CNN."

"It's actually called the BBC –"

"I know." Xander sighed, running a hand through his hair.

They sat in silence for a few moments. Xander drinking his beer, William conspicuously ignoring his.

"May I ask you a question?" William asked.

"Sure."

"This group of yours," William looked down at the shredded napkin he was holding. "They deal with supernatural occurrences, correct?"

"Well, yeah. That's not normal, by the way."

"I've been told," William nodded in understanding. "What is your occupation with them?"

"Mine?"

"Yes. I've been attempting to figure out how best I could provide support to your organization, though I'm afraid I only have a vague notion as to what you actually do."

Xander wasn't sure how much William knew about the Slayers. Willow had told him that he already knew about Spike and the vampire thing. But some guy from the last century hearing about a bunch of super-strong girls who fought monsters? He wasn't sure how well that would sit.

He shrugged. William would have to find out sometime.

Xander spent the next hour explaining the Slayers and his history with Buffy. William didn't interrupt at all. In fact, the guy seemed to be hanging off Xander's every word. Xander was rarely treated with such attentiveness. Course, William's beer was also getting warm, so Xander slid the glass over to his place and took over the drinking for William.

He concluded with an overview of all the Potentials gaining the Slayer power and then sat back on the bar stool to await William's reaction. The man remained frozen on his stool, and Xander could almost see the gears grinding away in his head. Xander was pretty happy with himself in that he'd managed to avoid all talk of Spike or Anya, two subjects he definitely did not want to get into.

"So these girls…" William said.

"Can totally kick our asses. Blindfolded. With one hand behind their back. While balancing a puppy on their head."

"And Miss Summers…she was the original Slayer?"

"Well, not the original. The first one I met? Yeah. But there were a whole lot of them before her. She just started the whole Slayer craze, basically. So she's in charge." Xander knew he was going to regret asking this, but he was feeling a bit loose from the booze. "So have you and Buffy not met yet or something?"

William looked up in surprise. "No, we've met. She just doesn't want to see me. I upset her."

Xander placed a friendly hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it, man. She'll get over it. Sometimes…when you lose someone…any reminder of them hurts. Doesn't make sense, I guess." Xander shrugged. He should probably stop drinking considering he would be the one driving back to the castle.

William looked uncomfortable at where the conversation had drifted, so Xander quickly smiled. "Hey," he said. "Let's play a round of darts?"

***

The jet lag was starting to set in. After a few rounds of darts, Xander had suggested they call it a day and go back to the castle. He dropped William back at Giles' cubby because, apparently, British guys had to live together or something. And then there was one stop that Xander wanted to make before going to his own room and sleeping for the next couple days.

Buffy answered the door almost immediately, and she was dressed in workout gear. He'd obviously caught her about to leave to do some work. Xander held out his arms for a hug.

"You weren't part of the welcome party," he said as she embraced him.

"Yeah," Buffy pulled back. "Sorry. Just had some training. You know how it is."

"I very much do. You about to head back out?"

"Yep. No rest for the Buffy." She smiled, but Xander could tell that it was the smile she used when she wasn't actually happy but was acting like everything was okay anyway.

"So," Xander leaned in the doorway as Buffy started loading things into her gym bag. "I met this William guy. Had a few drinks with him."

She tensed slightly. Somebody who didn't know her as well probably wouldn't even notice. "Wouldn't have thought him to be your type," she commented, not looking up.

"He's fun. More fun than Giles, at least," Xander shrugged. She still wasn't looking up at him. "He doesn't understand why you don't want to see him. I think it hurts his feelings."

A towel got shoved roughly into the gym bag, and then Buffy harshly jerked the zipper close. "I'm sure he'll live."

"I'm just saying – "

"I know what you're saying," Buffy thumped the bag down and turned to face him. "And you, of all people, should know why I don't want to see him. What if it was Anya? What if Anya showed up but it wasn't Anya? It was Anya way back before she turned Orville into a troll or whatever? Would you still want to be with her?"

Xander straightened, feeling the blow to his heart with her words. Even hearing Anya's name was still painful. But he knew the answer anyway. "Well, yeah. Of course I would." Buffy looked skeptical. "It would still be Anya."

Buffy shook her head, picking up the gym bag and slinging the strap over her shoulder. "Xander, you had drinks with him. You know. You know that he's not Spike. Tell me I'm wrong."

Xander stuck his hands in his pockets. He knew the answer to the question, but he didn't want to tell her that she was right. He wouldn't have spent the afternoon at a pub with the guy if she were right.

After a few minute's silence passed between them, Buffy walked toward the door. "I gotta train," she said as she moved past him.

Xander sighed. What a waste of a wish.

***

Night was falling, and William was becoming restless. He'd actually enjoyed the trip to the pub earlier in the day. Mr. Harris – Xander, as he insisted on being addressed – had been surprisingly pleasant company. True, William had been off-put by the gregarious displays of affection that Xander chose to exhibit such as back-patting. However, Xander didn't seem to have that same expectation of him as the others did. Instead, he'd been able to simply be himself as he was without being coddled to "adjust".

It was getting very tiring.

Xander had assured him that pubs were a socially acceptable place to be now even though William, himself, had never been in one. It had been very subdued and unlike the stories he'd heard, though perhaps things had changed from his time. They had ended the outing with Xander promising to show him some "good" television and an offer to go out for drinks again sometime. William was surprisingly agreeable to this.

Now, though, William wished for his newfound friend to be present as he found himself increasingly bored with his activities. The television wasn't very entertaining as he didn't understand the context most of what was being shown, and most of the literature Mr. Giles had was of the demon variety.

William would prefer not to think of those things at this time. He had been shocked to hear Xander's story about these "slayers". Young girls who were possessing of extraordinary strength? The idea was completely contradictory to everything he knew about women. Not that he thought women to be weak. His mother, after all, was quite strong-willed. However, everybody knew that women were the passive sex and not equipped for physical exertion.

It was a well-known fact.

Although, William rationalized that Xander's story didn't necessarily dispute that. By his own admission, these slayers were endowed with supernatural powers. Obviously, that meant they possessed a power above and beyond an ordinary woman.

Why it should be women who were granted these abilities and not men, William wasn't certain. However, he could accept that a small portion of women were stronger than he was.

William sighed. He had meant to ask Mr. Giles for some writing paper so that he could work on his poetry, but he hadn't had the opportunity. He was hesitant to search through Mr. Giles' possessions to find paper, either. He glanced out the window and saw it was a clear night. Perhaps a walk might settle him so that he may sleep more calmly.

***

This night was not helping Buffy calm down. It was bad enough when the amulet had arrived. But then that man who was not Spike popped up. On top of that, Xander was bugging her about being nice to the man who was not Spike.

Buffy plunged her stake into the vamp's heart and stood back while it turned to dust.

She hated her life.

She'd been out patrolling every night since the man who was not Spike had arrived. While this castle had been a Potential training ground once upon a time, a bunch of vamps had moved in when the Watcher's Council had been destroyed by the First Evil. The Slayers had managed to run out most of them to reclaim the castle, but a lot of them still hung around the area, making this a prime hunting ground at night.

Which was perfect for her.

She'd been throwing herself into her work for so long, she was reaching a state of physical and mental exhaustion. But she was scared to stop. Because if she stopped, then it would be real. He'd be gone. And she didn't want that, so she kept working.

That's what he sacrificed himself for, right?

Buffy was about to head back to the castle when she heard a cry in the distance. She cursed as she ran in the direction of the noise. They'd had a lot of untrained baby Slayers wandering out at night in their first couple weeks here. However, by now, everybody knew to stay indoors when the sun went down. What idiot would be traipsing about at this time of night?

Through a thick of trees, Buffy came upon a vampire attacked a young man. Going on instinct, Buffy tore the vampire away from the human, pushing him out of her mind.

Ordinarily she enjoyed the fight. She'd play with the vamp a bit before staking them. But she didn't have the patience right now. She delivered a punch to the nose that had the vampire stumbling backwards. Buffy took the opportunity to hook a leg behind his and send him crashing to the ground.

In an instant, Buffy had staked him as he lay, standing up straight to watch his dust settle to the dirt.

She turned, putting her stake back in the waistband of her pants.

It was him.

She'd saved him.

She was tempted to just turn and go back to the castle, but that wasn't very hero-like. She held out a hand to the man who was not Spike and helped him stand up. He looked completely flustered, all blood drained from his face, and he was taking big gulping breaths.

She didn't want to say anything to him. She really didn't plan to. Really.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" Buffy asked, stepping back from him.

William visibly cringed at her tone. "I…out for a walk…I didn't…"

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her. "Not smart. Come on."

She turned without looking back, expecting him to follow her back to the castle.

He must have tripped on something because she heard the sound of a body falling to the ground and a muffled "Bloody hell!" from behind her.

Buffy froze.

It was years ago in a smoky bar. Familiar in setting, yet completely unsettling in the company she had. Playing pool with her mortal enemy, hearing stories about how he'd murdered her fellow Slayers. She was there again.

"Getting killed made me feel really alive for the very first time. I was through living by society's rules." Black leather and bleached hair.

She'd been so entranced by his stories. Entranced and disgusted, every word seared into her memory.

"I was through living by society's rules."

Buffy spun around, eyes wide. What if? She almost couldn't think it. But what if he was still there? Hiding under what society dictated, what if her Spike were still there? All hot passion and anger wrapped in a snarky package. Could she get through to him?

"Can't you walk straight?" She said without hesitation.

William was in mid-crouch as he picked himself up. He paused and looked up quizzically at her.

"It's sad, William, that you can't go two feet without tripping all over yourself. It's almost as bad as that stutter you have."

He stood up straight, avoiding her eyes. "I'm…I apologize…I'm just…"

"Yeah, that's the one," she said. "I bet you're the life of the party. Must take, what, a week to finish a story with the way you talk?"

William was staring intently at his feet, mouth open as if wanting to protest, but no sound actually came out.

She tried again. "Seriously, William. I'm not sure if you noticed, but you're not exactly Mr. Popular here. Nobody actually wants you around. We're all just putting up with you since we're too nice to throw you out." Okay, that was a little too mean. But, dammit, Spike would surely be fighting back at this point.

He looked off to the side, and Buffy could see tears forming in his eyes, though he was trying his hardest not to let them fall.

She laughed. Spike didn't cry at something like this. "You're crying?" No, she was sure he was still in there somewhere. "What the hell are you doing crying?"

"Buffy!"

She turned to find Giles behind her, giving her a look like she was a five-year-old whose hand was in the cookie jar.

"Giles, this isn't –" She said, trying to figure out how best to explain what she was doing. That it was for William's own good.

"I see exactly what it is, and it can stop," Giles admonished. He looked past Buffy to William, though Buffy didn't turn around. "Let's go inside, William. You shouldn't be out here at night anyway."

Buffy was still as William brushed past her, watching as the two men walked away from her towards the castle.

She bit her lip. She refused to feel guilty for that. William had shown her that he was still Spike somehow. He just had to find it. She couldn't possibly be made to feel bad for that.

But she kinda did.

Giles raised the damp cloth to the scrape on William's forehead. The younger man's injuries weren't very extensive. He did seem badly shaken, however, even after Giles had taken him back to his room and made some tea.

"What happened?" He asked.

William was silent as if considering his answer. "I suppose I was attacked by a vampire."

"Yes, that's why it's not a good idea to wander around outside after dark. That's my fault. I should have informed you."

William nodded, and Giles had a feeling that the vampire attack wasn't what had badly shaken William.

"And what happened with Buffy?" Giles prompted.

William jerked away from Giles at the question but steadied himself. "That must have been my fault. I was in a state after the attack and fell while following her. I'm afraid I used some coarse language in my frustration. It must have offended her."

Giles raised an eyebrow, but William wasn't looking at him. "I suppose that's a possibility. Regardless, she shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I will speak to her – "

William's hand darted out to grab Giles'. "Don't," William looked at him. "Please, don't interfere. She's obviously upset, and I don't wish to distress her anymore."

Giles refrained from pointing out that William didn't know the full situation. It was important, for his self-esteem, to respect his wishes in this matter. Besides, Buffy was an adult now and didn't need him nagging her about how to behave. He'd already made his opinion on her actions known when he'd interrupted them.

He nodded, standing and pulling away from William's grasp. "Very well. Why don't you go to bed? You're probably very tired."

William nodded, looking thoroughly exhausted.

***

Buffy stared at the clock from her place on her bed. The night had moved so slowly like some gooey molasses time thingy. She went patrolling to help her sleep, but the incident of last night completely screwed that plan up.

It was her fault. She'd come on too strong and ended up hurting the guy. She didn't mean to. Okay, yeah, she did. But she'd expected him to fight back, so that's okay, right?

She sighed, burying her face in the plushy pillow. She'd been scolded by Giles – something that hadn't happened in a long time – and she'd been miserable with guilt all night.

She'd never thought much about what William would have been like. She'd never made much of a connection between the vampire and the human that had come before. If she'd been made to think about it, she'd have thought that Spike was probably some sleazebag criminal who had a reputation for killing people in bar fights or something like that. When William had appeared, all those thoughts had scampered off and she found herself faced with a man who, on the surface, was nothing like the vampire she'd recently lost.

But last night had shown her something. It was the smallest glimmer of something, but it was there, and it was enough for her to hope that, through William, she might be able to get Spike back in some form. She'd acted rashly last night by lashing out at him. That was dumb. No, she'd have to be more careful from now on.

That's provided, of course, that he'd ever want to see her again. All he'd seen of her was her being a total bitch. He was probably scared of her. And she'd rather find another apocalypse to avert than face him again.

There was a knock at her front door that she ignored. It was 8:30 in the morning. She'd gotten maybe an hour of sleep. They could train without her today. It's not like she was doing much anyway.

The knocking repeated itself a couple times before the visitor opened the door to let themselves in. Buffy rolled her eyes, still sprawled on her bed. Unfortunately, they hadn't been able to equip the doors with locks in this castle. Most people respected the privacy of others, but a few people close to her would feel that they had the liberty of just walking in. One of those people, of course, was –

"There you are!" Dawn entered the bedroom. "You didn't come down to training so people were wondering about you."

Buffy shrugged, turning away from her sister and burrowing into the blankets. "Not working today. Need sleep."

"Okay," she could hear Dawn behind her fidgeting. "You'll be all rested tonight, right?"

"What's tonight?"

"Party at my place. You know, to celebrate Xander's return."

Buffy rolled back over, propping herself up on her elbows. "Who all's going?"

"Well, just the gang. Me, Xander, Willow, Giles, Kennedy…William, you know, the usual."

Buffy felt her stomach lurch at William's name. This would be the perfect time to make amends. It would also be the perfect time to start ignoring the problem again and hoping it went away on its own. "I'm not gonna go, Dawnie."

"Buffy! It's for Xander! Come on. We'll have Monopoly and drinks and music. It'll be fun."

"I'm not really feeling well. I think I picked up that stomach flu that was going around," Buffy said, trying her best to sound convincing.

Dawn crossed her arms. "It's cause William's coming, right?"

Buffy looked down, biting her lip. She didn't know if Dawn knew about their confrontation last night. Most likely not. Giles wasn't one to gossip, and she'd be willing to bet William would be too embarrassed to talk about it. "I just don't want to see him right now."

"Buffy," Dawn waved her gangly arms. "You can't just ignore him. He's here. He's not going anywhere. And I think it's important that he be included in this. I'm not asking you to be dance partners with him or even talk to him. But you can be in the same room without freaking out, right?"

Apparently not if last night were any indication. But Buffy realized that her sister sometimes had way more courage than she did with this sort of thing. She sighed. "I'll be there."

Dawn smiled, bouncing on her heels. "Good. Be there at seven. It'll be fun!"

She spun around and left the room as Buffy fell back onto her pillow.

Oh yeah. Tonight would be lots of fun.

***

It was a puzzle. Giles had expected William to be the expressive sort. Spike had been, after all. He would have expected him to be pacing back and forth, babbling about how unfair everything was. William, however, gave very little hint as to his inner feelings. Giles couldn't tell what, if any, effect Buffy's words had on him, and he was reluctant to ask.

So they'd gone shopping so that William may get out of the castle. William had spoken to him of wanting something to entertain himself with while Giles was working. The request wasn't unreasonable, and Giles was surprised when William had mentioned writing poetry.

Giles probably couldn't afford to take the day off, but he allowed himself this one indulgence. He did have some responsibility for William, and this was a pleasant enough way to pass the time before Dawn's get-together.

William's attention was drawn to a small florist's at the corner. Giles stood outside while the young man went in, presumably to get flowers for the hostess tonight. Giles had provided William with a council credit card with a strict daily limit. It was easier than trying to explain the new way of counting money in this time. William knew, by now, to present the card and sign the slip and then give the receipt to Giles.

It was good to give him that sort of freedom. They still hadn't discussed the possibility of work for William, though Giles supposed that they should do so soon. William was getting restless, and Giles was certain they could find some task to occupy him with.

William emerged from the florist's holding a small bouquet consisting entirely of pink budded flowers. Giles smiled.

"What type are they?" he asked.

William looked at him as if the answer were obvious. "Sea thrift. Armeria maritima."

Giles nodded as if that meant something to him. The flower seemed familiar, and he supposed it was common over here. Dawn would like them.

They continued walking down the sidewalk. "What was your occupation in your own time?" Giles asked.

"I was a clerk at the bank. Sorting accounts."

A paper-pusher. Well, it was better than a drunken brawler, which is what he would have guessed of Spike. Giles tried to think of some way to apply those skills to their work at the Council. Thanks to Dawn and Willow, pretty much all of their files were computerized now, and there wasn't much use for somebody to file papers.

"I've been considering what type of job you might be suitable for here with us," Giles said. "Do you have any other skills?"

William was quiet for a long while. Then he was quiet a little more. When it reached the point of awkwardness, Giles broke the tension.

"We'll think about it," he said. He thought William might have let out a sigh, but it was nearly imperceptible.

They went into a bookstore so William could choose a journal of his preference along with a fancy writing instrument. William seemed pleased with the leather-bound book that he had chosen, and they didn't discuss the issue of work any further.

***

It was not what he'd been expecting. William had actually been dreading this party that Miss Summers was hosting. He'd attended parties in his own time due to social pressures, and he'd always found them to be unpleasant. The evening would always end with a game of Magic Music or The Dumb Orator which he would, inevitably, lose and have to pay some humiliating forfeit. He expected much the same from Miss Summer's party.

He didn't get it. It was a strange affair. She had cleared an area in her living room for them and had some music playing. William was fascinated with the new style of music that they played on the television. He and Mr. Giles had arrived late so everybody else was already there. Mr. Harris – Xander – greeted him warmly while Miss Rosenberg smiled and waved. There didn't seem to be a dinner table set up, but a large number of snacks were set up on a table.

And in the corner was Miss Summers. The other Miss Summers. She was sitting in an armchair talking quietly with Miss Rosenberg. William felt an odd sense of shame wash over him when he saw her. She glanced up quickly at his arrival but then averted her eyes. He felt bad to cause her so much discomfort.

The incident of last night had left him badly shaken. While he'd accepted the existence of vampires, he'd never actually seen one. Being attacked as he'd been was a frightening experience. He'd still been in a state of shock when Miss Summers had verbally lashed out at him. He knew better than to take her words at face-value. After all, she was upset and mourning. However, she had struck a nerve with what she had said and had touched upon concerns that he'd had already. Couple that with his awkward conversation about his skills with Mr. Giles and William was feeling like something of a burden to these good people.

And yet, they seemed to genuinely enjoy his company. The younger Miss Summers was enthusiastic in her greeting and led him over to fill a paper plate with crisps and such for him. Xander quickly took over William's attention, weaving some humorous story about his trip to Cleveland.

William didn't understand most of the references. Xander had a habit of dropping pop culture sayings throughout his conversation. William managed to work around them, for the most part.

His eyes kept drifting over to the older Miss Summers. She looked tired. In fact, she looked as if she would rather not be here. He imagined that she was still uncomfortable in his presence. He wished to resolve that somehow.

"It's just taking forever," the younger Miss Summers was complaining to Mr. Giles.

"Can't you use some of the girls to do it?" Mr. Giles replied.

Xander turned to include himself in the discussion. "Do what?"

"Transcription duty," Miss Summers rolled her eyes, displaying her opinion of how much fun that would be. "Old scrolls and books that are falling apart need to be copied over by hand. We'd prefer to have hardcopies of them. Just…nobody wants to do it."

Mr. Giles glanced at William. "How's your penmanship, William?"

He was startled by the question. Transcription? Copying scrolls? It was a menial task, surely. However, it was better than nothing. "I always got high marks for it," he said.

Miss Summer's eyes widened. "You wouldn't mind? I mean, it's kinda boring."

"We'll pay him for his services," Mr. Giles said.

"Hey," Xander patted his back. "You're employed!"

Miss Summers set down her drink suddenly. "Speaking of employment, let's play Monopoly!"

***

Buffy sucked at Monopoly. She always had. Tonight was no exception, especially as William's presence was making her nervous. Even now, he sat across the table, completely not looking at her as if nothing had happened. It made her want to run out of the room with the tension, but she fiddled with her money instead.

Xander had volunteered to partner with William since William had never heard of the game. Obviously cause it hadn't been invented until, like, the 50s or something. If she ignored William completely, it wasn't an altogether bad evening. Hanging with the gang. She and Willow had talked girl stuff, which is something they didn't often do anymore. Kennedy couldn't make it because she got called away on Slayer business.

Yeah, if it weren't for William, the honking great reminder of Spike, sitting across from her, she might actually enjoy the evening.

As it was, she had Baltic Avenue and was constantly landing on Dawn's Park Place. Life sucked.

"But why do we keep charging him money?" William asked Xander.

"Cause he keeps landing on Tennessee, which is ours," Xander explained while taking the money from a disgruntled Giles.

"It seems somewhat cruel. He has so little money."

"That, Will, is the point of the game."

Willow's head snapped up from where she was sorting red hotels and green houses. "Huh?"

Xander looked between Willow and William. "Ah, bad nickname. Very confusing. We'll just call him 'William'."

"It is my name," William said.

"Yeah, but I'm lazy with the syllables sometimes. Sorry, Will. And Will." Xander smiled at his own lame joke.

They were enjoying his company. They joked with him in a way they never had with Spike. Buffy remained quiet. This game was going to defeat her. Dawn's room suddenly felt very small and oppressive. She was in it and William was in it and her friends' laughter echoed off the walls as they enjoyed themselves, but she was miserable.

"You know what?" Her chair scraped stone as she quickly stood up. "I fold or quit. I'm losing anyway, so…" She looked around at the blank faces staring back at her. "Um…I gotta go."

She escaped very quickly. Probably not her best exit, but she'd had worse. Dawn's cubby was by a balcony type thing so Buffy took advantage of it to go out into the cool night air.

She wasn't sure what the problem was. They were all moving on with their lives. Even Xander, who'd lost Anya, was happily playing Monopoly with the others. But Buffy couldn't. Not as long as he was sitting right across from her. She hated it.

And last night, when she'd tried to do something about it, had backfired. She didn't know if she had the resilience to try something like that again. Or if it were even worth it to try. What if there weren't anything of Spike in William? Outside of the swearing, he'd certainly not acted like Spike last night at all. She didn't want to give herself false hope over this.

Her mind kept going around in circles until she was confused as to what she even wanted.

She sighed as she leaned against the stone wall that served as a railing. It's times like this that she missed the back porch of her Sunnydale house. It would be nice to sit on that right now.

Buffy heard a shuffling footstep behind her and turned her head slightly. She'd been outside for a while and none of the guys had come out to talk to her. She assumed that they'd decided to leave her alone, which was probably for the best. But now…

It was William. He was looking at her in that scared bunny way he had as if she were gonna bite him.

"May I join you?" he asked.

If she told him no, he'd probably go away without question. It would be way less stressful. But he obviously wanted to talk to her, and she owed him so she shrugged. "Okay."

He approached, standing beside her. He didn't lean against the stone, but stood straight instead. He held up a hand, presenting a small bouquet of pink flowers.

"I hope you don't find this forward, but I bought these for you."

On instinct, Buffy accepted the flowers, bringing them to her face to smell. Why the hell was he buying her flowers? Shouldn't this be the other way around as some kind of apology or something? "Thanks," she said. "I'm not sure why you bought me flowers after what I said last night."

He looked down, shifting his weight uncomfortably. "About that –"

"No," she held up a hand. "No, wait. I'm sorry. I was out of line, and you didn't do anything to deserve that. So…sorry…" She wasn't good at delivering apologies, but she supposed that was as good as any.

He looked back up and gestured towards the flowers she held in one hand. "Those are something of a peace offering, actually. I'm sure I must have done something on some level to upset you."

She opened her mouth to object but he cleared his throat. "My father passed away when I was a small child. I remember my mother being so distraught over his death for a great length of time. She was prone to lashing out at me in her grief. However, once her time of mourning was past, she was able to move on."

He stopped abruptly as if he hadn't expected to be allowed to speak for so long. A heavy silence fell over the two of them. Buffy knew it would sound lame to apologize again, and he seemed to be kinda understanding.

She turned back to lean against the wall again. "When you came here, was your mother…I mean, was she…" Okay, she should have thought more about that question before opening her mouth.

He smiled though. "Yes, she was still alive. We got on very well."

"Good," she nodded.

"You probably have me at a disadvantage, Miss Summers – "

"Buffy," she interrupted. "'Miss Summers' sounds weird."

"Buffy," he said though he frowned. "Anyway, you probably know quite a bit about me already."

He probably thought Spike had told her about himself. But he hadn't. And whatever the Council had had was obviously wrong. She shrugged. "Not really. Maybe we should pretend we know nothing about each other. Start clean. Obviously, you don't know much about me. And I can pretend I don't know what little I actually do know about you."

He smiled, turning towards her. "That sounds like a reasonable plan to me."

Buffy smiled back. Clean slate. Right. The guy beside her was not her Spike, but it didn't matter because she could enjoy his company anyway.

As long as she didn't make him cry again.

"So," she said. "Why do they call it the 'Victorian era' anyway?"

It had been a good evening. William had been initially hesitant to speak to Miss Summers – Buffy. After all, in the past, his attempts to speak to women had proven disastrous. However, he'd managed to come to an arrangement with her and get past their former awkwardness. He felt inordinately proud of himself in his success.

He stretched on Mr. Giles' sofa. It was still early and he had a few more moments in which to doze. The party was still fresh in his mind even though it had been several days ago. It had been the highlight of his experience thus far. Buffy had proven to be a most delightful woman.

Mr. Giles had been keeping him busy with transcription duties. William suspected this was mainly busywork to distract him, but he didn't mind. The books were most interesting in a horrifying way. Back in the past, he would have disavowed any knowledge of such things. Now, however, he was coming to view the world quite differently.

Mr. Giles had spoken of getting William a private cubby to live on his own. William had been told to think about it, and he had been pondering it for much of his time. Surely he wouldn't be out of his depth in this communal environment. He would be down the hall from help in case it was needed. It would also offer him more privacy. It would be not unlike his time in boarding school when he was a child.

The actual move would have to wait, though, as Xander had invited him to spend the day "hanging out". William wasn't sure as to what that entailed. Xander had no particular outing planned, to William's knowledge. But it seemed a genuine offer of friendship from the man, and William was happy to take it.

As he closed his eyes, a flash of golden hair appeared in his mind. He hadn't had a chance to see Buffy since the party, though he was certain she wasn't avoiding him as she had been. Mr. Giles told him that some demonic activity had picked up in the area, and Buffy was busy fighting it.

So strong. Not just for a woman, but for anybody. He'd seen her fight the vampire who'd attacked him that one night. She had a power that could only have been bestowed upon her by God. A heavenly creature sent to protect the unknowing innocents from the monsters that lurk in the night. He was blessed to be in her presence.

He'd given a lot of thought to the vampire called Spike, whom she mourned. He'd been told that Spike had saved the world in his death. William could scarcely believe that. That is, until he'd discovered more about Buffy. He was now convinced that Buffy's love and attention must have helped cleanse the demon from the vampire. Only through the love of an extraordinary woman such as she could a demon be redeemed.

Mr. Giles emerged from his bedchamber, interrupting William's thoughts.

Another day had begun.

In the far past, his days had been structured quite differently. He would awaken at an early hour to wash and dress himself. Emma, the cook, would have breakfast served by that time, and William would join his mother for the morning meal. After which, he would promptly go to the bank for work.

He found now his days much less scheduled, which he feared gave him a tendency towards laziness. His rhythms were no longer kept by the sun, but by the artificially bright electric lights that adorned the dark castle. William was staying up later than he'd ever let himself previously, and he found himself giving in to the urge to sleep in far longer than he would have ever allowed himself in the past.

He had prided himself in following the rules of decorum laid out by his society. Many of his peers believed that they did, as well, but their behavior proved otherwise. They were vulgarians. They cavorted with their amusements and their fancies without regard for what was proper. William would never allow himself to fall to their level. He was a better man than that.

Though, lately, he wasn't certain as to exactly why he still felt the need to adhere to those strict standards. To be a gentleman was a worthy goal in his time. In this time, though, it seemed that being a gentleman was directly contrary to leading a fulfilling life.

It puzzled him the more thought he gave to it, and William often found himself going around in circles to reach an answer. Perhaps there were none.

Breakfast in this time was a modest affair. Mr. Giles made toast for the two of them as they quietly discussed the day's plans. Mr. Giles seemed pleased to hear that William would be spending the day with Xander.

After they had finished their meal, Mr. Giles departed for his work, and William left to visit Xander's cubby.

****

Xander had put a lot of thought into this get-together. Now that he was fully recovered from jet-lag, he had the freedom to spend some time with William, his new guy-buddy. When Giles had heard about his plan, he'd said that it would be good for William to be exposed to Xander. Whatever that meant.

Xander had spent a long time at the video rental shop trying to find the perfect movie to show William in order to fully welcome him into the 21st century. Well, the 20th century, since they weren't very far into the 21st century. Anyway, after much careful deliberation, Xander had decided on a classic trilogy that William would be sure to love.

Well, that had been the plan.

"It's what?" William asked, tentatively biting a piece of popcorn in half.

"In space. It's set in space. Star Wars. It's an epic space film." Xander said, watching as Darth Vader confronted Princess Leia.

William's eyes were wide. "Space? The stars? When did this happen?"

Xander sighed. "It's not about anything that happened. It's science-fiction. You know, fantasy."

"Fantasy? Like Alice's Adventures in Wonderland?"

"Just without the rabbit and mirrors and stuff."

William frowned, and Xander could tell he wasn't quite getting it. R2-D2 and C-3P0 were escaping to Tatooine.

Through most of the movie, William sat silent with a look of intense concentration on his face. Xander glanced at him from time to time. He wasn't sure if the guy were actually following what was going on or not.

Then came the big space battle at the end. Wedge's fighter was damaged, and he had to leave Luke on his own to destroy the Death Star. Xander was refraining from quoting the lines as they were said. Han came to Luke's rescue, and Luke managed to hit the impossibly small target just in time to save the day. As the space station exploded in a ball of pyrotechnic glory, William smiled widely and looked over at Xander.

"It exploded," he said with a grin.

Xander nodded. "Oh yes. Yes, it did."

Figures. No man could resist the allure of an exploding space station. Victorian or not, William was very much a guy.

When the credits began to roll, William sat back. "That's it? But what happens next?" He looked at Xander.

Xander grinned, holding up The Empire Strikes Back. "Lucky for you, this is a trilogy. Gimme a mo and we'll be seeing some more."

And so their day went. Occasionally, William would ask a question about what was going on, or he would comment about the violence of a scene. But he seemed to thoroughly enjoy it all. Even the Ewoks. Man, nobody liked those guys.

"They're small bears," William smiled.

"Yeah," Xander shoved a handful of popcorn in his mouth. "Like teddy bears."

William frowned. "'Teddy' bears? I've never heard of that species."

Xander shrugged him off as the speeder chase scene had just begun.

It was a well-deserved break. After the last apocalypse, everybody had been all busy getting the Council set up. Nobody wanted to stop and have any fun, which is something Xander was desperately needing. Buffy might be one to throw herself into work when troubled, but not Xander. Xander liked to have time to deal with it. He hadn't had much chance to even think about Anya since she'd…gone.

No, this. Just hanging with a guy was nice. The girls were cool, of course. But there was so much history there. He knew that they were all wondering how he was doing, and they wanted to do that comforting thing that girls do when someone's down. Xander just wasn't in the mood for that.

The final credits rolled. They'd spent the entire day watching the Star Wars trilogy. William jumped up, an excited grin on his face.

"That was – how did they do all that? With the shooting and the ships? And that woman, Leia. She was…wow!" William babbled.

Xander smiled while putting the DVD back in its case. William was babbling about the mythic character arc of Luke or something along those lines.

"Is there a book for it?" William asked, still giddy. "Giddy" wasn't a word Xander used often, but it fit in this instance. "It would make a wonderful tale written down."

"Yeah," Xander said. "There are books. Not worth your time, though. You'd have to talk to Dawn about what's good to read now. I just know movies."

"That was incredible!"

Xander smiled, putting the popcorn up. "Incredible enough to go to a pub and get drunk now?"

William barely hesitated.

****

"So, these demons. What do they want?" William asked. He and Xander had been at the bar for a while now, and William had finally decided to start drinking. He had refrained for a while, but, after assurances from Xander that it was completely okay in this time, he relented and ordered whatever Xander was having. He had to admit, it tasted better than the beer from his own time.

He was trying to pace himself, though, as he had had little tolerance for drink. He did not wish to become inebriated in a public place. Especially as the pub was much more crowded than it had been during his daytime visit with Xander several days ago.

Xander shook his head. "Who knows? World domination. Babies. Kittens. They're demons. They want demony things. Anyway, once we heard about them, Buffy organized the girls and took them out to fight. Last I heard, they managed to wipe them out, and they should be heading back." He shrugged. "But they don't tell me that much."

William gulped some more of his beer, disappointed to see the bottom of the glass. Almost immediately, the bartender placed another one in front of him. What service!

"Those girls," he said. "Are incredible."

Xander chuckled. "Tell me about it."

"And Buffy must be the strongest of them all," William said after another chug, setting down the mug a bit too heavily and sloshing some beer over the edge. William licked it off his fingers. No point letting it go to waste.

"She's always been my hero," Xander agreed. "She's saved the world more times than I've sneezed. And she's always always making the tough calls." He smiled. "Plus, she's really hot."

William almost choked on the beer he was drinking at that point, but he managed to retain his dignity. He giggled at Xander's last statement. He'd learnt from the television that "hot" meant "attractive" in today's world. The phrase amused him. "You fancy her?" He asked.

Xander shook his head, jaw set like a five-year-old. "No, no, nope. Once did. Long, long time ago. She's like a sister. A hot sister. But a sister, y'know?" The last phrase was slurred.

William smiled at his friend. His friend was quite, quite drunk. Xander should have been more careful with his drinking. Like him.

Besides, this talk of Buffy outside her presence was quite scandalous. A gentleman would refuse to discuss it further.

"She's not my sister, and I also think she's hot," William laughed. Alright, that's not quite what he'd meant to say.

Xander lowered his head to the bar briefly in his drunken laughter. "Like vampire like human."

William had no clue what he meant by that, but Xander didn't seem to want to expand on it, so he just finished his mug. There must be a hole at the bottom of his glass. He surely wasn't drinking that quickly.

"Y'know what'd be funny?" Xander lifted his head, pointing at William. "If you and Buffy, like, hooked up. That'd be so weird." He laughed.

William joined him, leaning back to get some more air. Unfortunately, he ended up falling off the stool and found himself sprawled on the floor of the bar. People around him clapped and cheered for him. All he could do was laugh some more.

Looking up, he saw Xander doubled over, still on his stool. "You fell!" Xander said.

William nodded. "On the bum," he said between his laughter. "And it sorta hurt."

Well, now that he was on the floor, he wasn't sure if he could get back up. He attempted to disentangle his legs from the bar stool but only succeeded in sending Xander into another fit of laughter. His own mirth had died out in his frustration. The room was not supposed to be wavy like this.

Giving up on the stool, William pressed both hands on the cool, sticky floor and let his head hang. He was queasy from the alcohol. He felt that if he sat still long enough, the room might stop churning back and forth and he could stand up again.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been in that position when he felt Xander pull him up, bracing him with an arm about the waist.

"Come on, Will. Let's get you and me back to the castle. The bartender's calling a cab."

With Xander's guidance, William managed to make it out of the pub, though his stomach protested with each footstep. Once the night air hit his face, he pushed himself away from Xander and vomited into a bush outside the pub. He leaned against the building after he was done retching.

"What's his problem? Can't take his beer?" A deep voice asked. Behind him, William could hear Xander talking to a couple curious onlookers.

William was sweating, and his throat felt raw from the fierce vomiting. However, his stomach felt better. He turned, still using the wall as support. Xander was still talking to two large guys. Younger men, both of them. They'd just been leaving the pub. One smiled at him.

"Looks like the pansy's done throwing up," the taller of the two said.

William inhaled sharply, remembering the sting of insults endured long ago. He'd managed to avoid them here, for the most part. Who was this ruffian to hurl names at him?

Xander held his hands up. "Thanks for the concern, guys. We don't want any trouble." He pointed behind him towards the street. "We're just gonna go wait for our cab." William was surprised to see Xander's entire demeanor had changed. Not a trace of his former inebriation was showing.

"Not so fast," the shorter stranger grabbed Xander's arm. "We wanna buy the tosser a drink. Might be good for a laugh."

His friend chuckled, nodding in agreement.

William pushed himself away from the wall. He'd heard of these types of people who frequented bars only to engage in brawls when drunk. He'd never met them before though. He walked up to stand beside Xander, feeling steadier on his feet.

"Actually," he said, trying to remember his gentlemanly manners in his current state was difficult. "I have to decline. My friend and I would like to retire for the night."

William tugged on Xander's sleeve to turn and walk away.

"Couple a poofters?" One of the men asked the other.

"Dunno," that was the taller one. "Maybe he just needs to get home to his mummy so she can sing him a bedtime song."

They laughed.

William turned back.

Everything happened in a drunken blur. Like puzzle pieces tossed in the air, none making sense on their own as they each only held fragments of the full picture. There was yelling. A lot of yelling. Hard bodies hitting concrete, and the squelching noise of fist meeting bloodied flesh. William wasn't sure exactly how he got there, but there he was. Straddling the tall guy and throwing punches at him, one after another. Xander frantically trying to pull him off.

The short guy called after them as Xander dragged William to the cab while William still tried to lunge at his fallen opponent.

On the silent cab ride back to the castle, William slowly remembered the rest, though it came back to him as if he were watching a film like Star Wars. Him shoving the tall guy. Being shoved back. A couple punches being exchanged between the two of them while the shorter guy tackled Xander.

A cruel jibe from the tall guy about William hitting like a woman was what had done it. William had proven him wrong. Very wrong.

He looked down at his blood-stained knuckles, ignoring the bruising wounds that he carried. Something wasn't right.

***

"Andrew's going to Cleveland now. They're asking for you to go visit. Apparently some Hellmouthy stuff is going on. I told them you had just gotten back from another demon thing," Dawn was yapping away while Buffy reclined on the couch.

Still, better to be updated on the happenings of what she'd missed by Dawn than by Giles. It was so awkward talking to Giles about anything these days. Especially now that William was here.

And that was so a thought she shouldn't have thought. She hadn't seen him since the party. She'd had to leave shortly afterward. She hadn't even thought about when she might see him again. Or if she wanted to see him again. They had ended up on friendly terms, really. He was kinda nice once you got past the spazzy nerves part of him.

"Hey!" Dawn's sharp voice cut through Buffy's thoughts.

"What?" Buffy looked over at her sister who had just sat down across from her.

"You were off in la-la land or something," Dawn raised an accusing eyebrow.

Buffy shrugged, sipping her coffee. "I was listening. Cleveland. Prophecy. Boys being snuck in. I got it."

Dawn's reply was interrupted by a knock at the door. She frowned. It was pretty late.

Buffy sat quietly while her sister answered the door. She heard Dawn's startled yelp as well as Xander asking her to let them in. Buffy looked up to see a scraped-up Xander supporting a wasted and bloody William.

"What the hell happened?" Dawn asked, already rushing off for a first aid kit and a wet cloth.

Xander unceremoniously dumped William in one of Dawn's dining room chairs before turning to look at Buffy. "Buff!"

She put her coffee down while standing up, unsure of what to do. "Yeah, I just got back."

Dawn bustled back in, supplies in hand. "Sit," she ordered to Xander who took a seat beside a silent William. "Now what happened? Buffy, come help."

Buffy followed her sister's orders, grabbing a washcloth and getting it damp under the sink. Dawn was cleaning Xander's wounds so Buffy turned to William.

"Well," Xander said as Dawn dabbed at a bright red scrape on his forehead. "William the Bloody here decided to get us into a bar fight. With two guys who could probably play linebackers for the 49ers."

Buffy frowned, noticing the blood liberally coating William's knuckles. She concentrated on his wounds first. Somebody had gotten in a good punch to the nose, and he had a split lip. He took her care in silence, not even really focusing on her.

"Anyway – ow!" Xander batted at Dawn's hand when she pressed too hard against a cut. She rolled her eyes and persisted. "I didn't want to go to my cubby cause I'm in the same hallway as Giles. If Giles saw William looking like that…well…I think he might take out my other eye in exchange."

"Okay, now tell us what really happened," Dawn said, sitting back and reaching for the disinfectant. "I doubt William started the fight."

"He did! We were turning to leave the guys and they threw some insult out. Cause, you know, that's what tough guys do. And William had to go turn around and start throwing punches. I had to pull him off the bigger guy he was whaling on him so bad," Xander shook his head. "Victorian gentleman, my ass."

William stood abruptly, the chair he'd been sitting on scraping stone roughly. Buffy lost balance and toppled back on her butt, though she hardly noticed as William paced away angrily.

"What was I supposed to do, then?" William snapped at Xander. "Let them say such…absolutely disgusting things?"

Xander shrugged. "Well, yeah. They're bigger than us. Look, I'm sorry, man. Your first night getting drunk. Should've cut you off sooner."

William shook his head, looking even more upset as he continued to pace in a strangely Spike-like manner.

"This isn't right," He murmured. "What I did…fighting…"

"Well, if it's any consolation, you won," Xander spread his hands out. "Not sure how when you were half the guy's size but you did."

"Yeah," Dawn turned to look at William, desperately trying to calm the situation. "And it's kinda funny if you think about it."

William stopped. "Funny? You find this funny?"

Dawn's smile faded, and she looked from Xander to Buffy for support. "Uh…no?"

The pacing started again. "It's not their behavior that's wrong. It's mine. It's completely inexcusable for me to act like that…like some kind of street ruffian. I'm a gentleman."

"Look," Xander sat forward, trying to be consoling. "It's not that big a deal in this time. People get into fights. It happens. We'll get ourselves patched up and laugh about it in a couple week's time."

"I don't want to laugh about it! What am I if not a product of my own time? What type of man am I if I just strip away all semblance of decorum? The type of man that fights in pubs? Is that what I am? Then, please, let me be a gentleman!"

William's voice had risen to a frantic pitch.

Buffy stood up to bring attention to herself. William's pacing stopped and both Dawn and Xander turned to look at her. "Guys, could you leave the room for a moment?"

Dawn pressed her lips together in disapproval, but she helped Xander stand up.

"We'll go into Dawn's room and listen through the door," Xander joked as he and Dawn left.

Once the door closed, Buffy turned back to William. His face was red and blotchy from crying, and he was staring stubbornly at the floor, jaw working in frustration. She'd almost never seen Spike cry. Only when he'd been recently souled and tormented by The First. It was uncomfortable to watch him try to keep from sniffling.

She frowned. She had him alone, but she wasn't sure what to say to him. She just knew that Dawn and Xander were making him more upset.

"What…what's this all about, William?" There, that was a nice, neutral question, right?

He was quieter when he spoke this time. "All my life, in my time, I've strived to be a good man as dictated by society. Manners and decorum and etiquette." He spit the last sentence out with some disgust. "Every second of my life, those things have been ingrained in me. And, now I'm here, and I'm told that they don't matter at all."

William shook his head, and the pacing began again. Fortunately, the crying had stopped now that he was talking things out.

He continued. "Fine, those things don't matter. I can live without them, right? Everybody else here does somehow. But apparently, without those things, I'm just some vulgarian who imbibes too much alcohol and starts fights in pubs." His voice was getting shaky again. "I don't know how I'm supposed to act in this time without those rules, Buffy. I don't even know who I am without them. What sort of man am I outside of my society?"

"A good man," Buffy blurted out to answer his rhetorical question.

It stopped him, though. He froze on the spot, staring at her in a way she found familiar, yet unsettling at the same time. He tilted his head to the side, and Buffy couldn't look at him anymore. She looked down at her feet in an effort to find a way to express what she wanted to say.

"The fact that you're even questioning all this," she said. "Shows that you are a good person, William. So you got drunk and got into a fight," she shrugged. "It doesn't change anything about who you really are. All the Victorian etiquette stuff doesn't matter, either. It's just stuffy British stuff. It's not you. You're you." Okay, she was rambling into incoherency. She risked a glance up to see him staring at her as if she were reciting some Shakespeare or something.

She cleared her throat. "I think you need to give yourself more of a chance before you start beating yourself up." A thought popped into her head when she said that, and she smiled. "In fact, given that you're apparently good in a fight, maybe we could work on training you to help out with the demon-fighting. Be better than transcription-duty, right?"

He blinked at the segue and nodded tentatively. "Training…"

"Yeah, like, along with the baby Slayers. I mean, you don't have super-strength or anything, but neither does Xander and he's come in handy in battle many times. And I'd place my money on you over Xander in a fight."

He nodded, gaze wandering off. Now that the heightened emotion was dying down, Buffy could see that the night of drinking was crashing down on him and that it'd be best to finish getting both him and Xander cleaned up so they could get some rest.

She sat William back in the chair before calling back in Xander and Dawn.

While cleaning the blood from William's hands, she desperately tried not to think about the fact that William had started a fight. Started a fight and won against the odds. She knew it was such a Spike thing to do. She wanted to cheer him on. She wanted to tell herself that she was right. That there was something of Spike in William. But she couldn't do that to herself. If she did, she'd be holding out hope for something that was gone.

So she ignored it.

She stood in front of his desk, arms crossed in determination and eyes blazing with strength. Giles took his glasses off to clean them. He could scarcely believe what she had told him. In fact, he had half a mind to call Xander in immediately and ask what he'd been thinking to take William on an outing such as that. Buffy's final proposal had served to distract him, however.

"Train William?" Giles echoed back to her. He shook his head. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Buffy. He's still adjusting."

"Yeah, sitting around works real well in helping him to adjust," Buffy replied. "He needs something to do besides the paperwork you've given him. He needs a purpose, Giles. And, according to Xander, he completely kicked that other guy's ass."

Giles raised his eyebrows. He hadn't seen William since the previous day. Giles had had the luxury of retiring early and hadn't heard William come in. The younger man had been gone when he'd awakened, but he'd been assured by Dawn that she'd seen William at breakfast so he'd paid it little mind. Indeed, he'd been happy to see William socializing as such.

But fighting? Giles couldn't put William in that situation.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. I just don't think it's a good idea."

"Well, I do." She said. Giles looked up at her, putting his glasses back on. "And it's my call, Giles. I offered the opportunity to him. He said yes. I'm not asking your permission. I'm just letting you know."

She lingered, looking uncertain at her display of authority for the briefest of seconds before turning around and walking out. Giles sighed, a resigned smile forming.

***

Buffy was sitting in her office. She had little experience with offices. She'd had that brief stint as a guidance counselor last year, but she'd never gotten used to the office atmosphere. Desks, pencil holders, sticky-notes, huge laminated calendars that you write on with a dry-erase marker. It was a completely different world from the cemeteries she was used to.

True, it hadn't seen much use. Since she'd gotten the office, she'd pretty much kept herself in the field. But she finally felt it was time to sit down and try some of this paperwork thing that Giles kept bugging her about.

It wasn't very exciting, when you got down to it. There were reports. Lots of reports. Injury reports. Initiation reports. Status reports. Resignation reports. Resignation. Girls could resign from being a Slayer. How weird was that?

Buffy carefully read through her stack of papers and signed whatever was needed. Her email was full of requests for her to pass down decisions. Most of those had been handled by Giles while she'd been working elsewhere. However, she took up some of the new requests that had come through. A new base was forming at the Hellmouth in Cleveland and there was discussion about how to distribute these bases in the future. She'd have to call a meeting on it.

She laughed at herself. Calling a meeting. That was a strange thought.

A knock at her open doorway caused her to look up. William was standing nervously at the entrance to her office. He'd obviously just been training. He was still even wearing his athletic clothes that she'd manage to find for him. Athletic pants and a tank top. It was a good look.

He'd spent the previous night at Xander's cubby. Then, later in the morning, Buffy had taken him to Kennedy's training class. Buffy had been determined to do some officework so she didn't have the opportunity to train him, herself. Which, considering the way her eyes kept lingering on the soft outline of his muscles through the tank top, was probably a good idea.

"May I come in?" William asked.

Buffy nodded, smiling and putting aside the file she'd been looking at. She motioned to the plush chair in front of her desk.

"What's up?" she asked.

He kept his gaze on her desk as if afraid to look her in the eye. He wasn't wearing his glasses. Maybe he couldn't see.

"I just finished the training," he said.

"Yeah. How'd that go?"

"Actually," he looked up. "Not so well. I don't think I'm cut out for that sort of thing."

She frowned. He looked like he wasn't quite telling her everything. She decided to probe a bit more.

"Why not?" she asked.

He glanced down. "The women that were training…they're very strong. I was…out of my depth."

She grimaced. Dumb, Buffy. Stupid, stupid, Buffy. Throwing William into a room full of Slayers and expecting him to train with them? Of course he'd be all making with the nervousness.

But she couldn't let him get discouraged. She remembered his breakdown last night, and she knew she had to do whatever possible to avoid that. She was the one who had brought him here, after all.

"I'm sorry, William," she said. "What about tonight, after I finish some of this paperwork, you and I do a one-on-one session?"

"Well, Xander and Mr. Giles were to help me move into my own cubby tonight."

"We can meet after that's done. I have a lot of paperwork," she grinned, trying to show a chipper face for him. Truthfully, she wasn't too thrilled with a one-on-one session. She knew his body far too well to be comfortable in such close quarters with him.

He didn't seem entirely happy with the arrangement, but he nodded anyway. "Very well. I look forward to it, then."

Buffy continued to smile as he left her office. Once she was alone, though, she let her smile relax. She could do a one-on-one training session with him. After all, it was William. Not Spike.

She shuffled through the papers on her desk, trying to pick back up on her train of thought from before William had entered, but it wouldn't come to her. She sighed, biting her lip. So much for getting some paperwork done.

***

It was late by the time they met in the training room. Buffy had forced herself to concentrate on all the work she had to do, but her impending meeting with William had kept her sufficiently distracted.

She hadn't expected Xander to tag along. Xander and William had become pretty good friends, which was majorly weird. Both the boys were still bruised from the bar fight last night. Their wounds weren't serious, though. Buffy knew that she'd have to go easy on William anyway.

"Hey, Buffy. Don't, you know, kick him across the room or anything." Xander said, sitting on the floor against the wall. She rolled her eyes, not even bothering with a response as she walked to the mat in the center of the room.

William stood quietly, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Xander was holding his glasses for him, and Buffy immediately thought of Spike when she first looked at him. She shook her head, trying to get the image of the bleach-blond vampire out of her mind. This wasn't Spike. This was William.

"Okay, William," she said. "Let's see you throw some punches." She raised her hands. She'd equipped herself with padded gloves, though she probably didn't need them. He'd probably just find it easier to punch at her if he were aiming for a glove and not her hand.

He took a strange stance and hesitantly hit at her right hand. He was obviously uncomfortable throwing a punch at her as he withdrew his hand nearly as soon as it had made contact with her glove.

"Come on, William!" Xander shouted from the side. A bag of chips had materialized from nowhere and Xander was suddenly snacking. "That's not what you did last night."

"I wasn't hitting a woman last night," William muttered. Buffy knew that he hadn't meant for her to hear that so she ignored it.

This time when William tried to punch her, she forcefully blocked, pushing him back a couple feet. He look up sharply, obviously surprised by her display.

She shrugged. "No need to be gentle, William."

He nodded, jaw set with determination. This time, his punch landed solidly. He had a good deal of strength, though it was pretty unfocused. He obviously had never been very active in his lifetime. And he was lacking the supernaturally-granted super-strength that Spike had enjoyed.

They concentrated on throwing punches for a while. Right, left, blocking. The entire time, they were accompanied by the steady munching of chips by Xander.

After a good half hour, Buffy could tell that William was getting tired. He was sweating and panting. Admittedly, so was she, though she wasn't tired. She'd been so active lately. Especially since she'd been going out to hunt vampires. Her fighting had never seemed like much of a release, though. That was only being heightened now, training with William. Her every sense was hyper-aware, and she felt as if her nerves were buzzing. She knew why. It was the familiar body. The familiar voice. The familiar presence that made her skin itch. It would have been impossible to work with him so closely and not feel like this.

But, damn, it was frustrating.

Buffy smiled, calling a stop. She wanted to get back to her room and take a shower. She needed to release the tension somehow.

She had a sudden thought: Why bother with a shower? She knew William could fight if need be. It could be like a part of training. She remembered her fights with Spike in the past had always proven to be very helpful in releasing any pent-up tension she may have.

But this wasn't Spike. It was William.

Buffy decided she just didn't care anymore.

After she took off her gloves, she turned back around to William who was talking quietly to Xander and threw a punch to his stomach.

To her delight, he blocked her. Clumsily, yes. But it was something. Both of them seemed to run on instinct as Buffy engaged him in a sparring match. William dove into it, throwing a counter punch of his own.

Buffy held back. She had to. She couldn't go all out on him. He was a human who barely knew how to fight. But her holding back was starting to work to her disadvantage as she was distracted with trying not to hurt him.

William surprised her by kicking out, hitting her shin and dropping her to the padded floor. She quickly flipped back up, though. He had a proud smirk on his face, and he just shrugged in response to her look. He'd realized she was holding back and had done that on purpose. What's more, he was taking a large amount of glee in it.

It should have annoyed her. No, it should have angered her. Instead, it excited her.

This may not be Spike, but William was getting pretty damn close.

Buffy swung a soft punch at his nose, moving too quickly for him to block. As he recoiled, she grabbed his arm and flipped him over onto his back on the mat. She straddled him, pinning him down with some satisfaction.

"I win," she smiled.

Looking down at him, his smile slowly faded back to his normal nervousness, chest rising and falling rapidly from his exertions. Buffy wrinkled her forehead. Why would he be nervous?

Then she felt his own excitement as he squirmed under her. Her eyes widened. Whoops. Way to make the Victorian guy all uncomfortable. Apparently, like with Spike, fighting got William hard. She should have moved off him then, but she found herself frozen, unable to resist prolonging this familiar position. Instinctively, her hips rocked against his, making him grunt in response.

It took Xander to snap Buffy out of it. "Gee, what a surprise. The Slayer wins!" he said.

Buffy quickly stood up and stepped away from William. Xander seemed largely oblivious to what had went on, but he stepped forward to help William stand up. William, for his part, seemed to have trouble making eye contact with Buffy.

"I think the guy's got a natural talent, don't you think, Buffy?" Xander asked.

"Uh, yeah," she said. Her pulse was pounding. Her plan for releasing her tension definitely hadn't worked.

"Are we to train again?" William asked, still not looking at her.

Great, he was putting the ball in her court. After she'd just pretty much violated him on the floor of the training room. Suddenly she felt like some old lecherous perv who took advantage of young, innocent, Victorian men for her own sexual satisfaction.

"Well, William," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. "It's up to you. If you want to, we can put you back in the training class. You definitely have potential. Just…whatever you want."

He nodded, but didn't answer immediately. When he did, it was to sidestep the question. "I think I'll rest and consider my options."

Xander started babbling to William about some TV show that was starting up tomorrow, and the two of them left. Buffy exhaled in frustration. Now she was going to feel too guilty to take care of things in the shower.

***

The water was freezing, but William still felt the burning inside him. It had been such a frustrating day.

First, the training. He'd never been in the company of so many women before. At least, not when there weren't an equal number of men. And as much as he kept telling himself he was just admiring their strength while exercising, he couldn't help the desire that washed over him. It was subtle, but there.

In his own time, he hadn't been as tempted as the women were always modestly dressed. Women in this current time did not grant him that luxury. He'd been taunted for a full hour with tantalizing glimpses of glistening flesh moving with a mesmerizing grace. He knew, from the television, that things were different now. That this was acceptable. But he still wasn't accustomed to it.

Then Buffy had suggested they train one-on-one. He imagined she misunderstood his reasons for disliking the training. True, all the women had been, far and away, possessing of more physical aptitude than him. However, that wasn't the primary reason for his discomfort. He certainly couldn't explain that to Buffy, who had shown such faith in him the previous night.

Moving into his own cubby had allowed him time to calm himself before seeing her. But then…

The final fight with her. That had done him in. Their final position had left her fully aware of his desire. She was probably disgusted that he'd reacted in such a way to the violence of the situation. In fact, her behavior afterward had proved it. She had avoided eye contact and had expressed no wish to train with him again.

She found him repugnant.

William leaned against the wall of the shower, closing his eyes. His mind flashed back to the sparring match. The scent of her sweat. Her flushed skin. The grunts she made while striking at him. It had been exhilarating. Like a dance. Brief glimpses of skin-on-skin contact. Never lingering. Friction giving way to arousing heat. And then her on top of him, straddling him. It had been glorious.

He'd begun stroking himself while reminiscing, barely aware of his actions until he reached a climax. He cried out to no one.

Shame took the place of pleasure as he came back to his surroundings. He picked up a washcloth and mechanically began to wash himself.

He didn't often engage in such behavior. It had been drilled into him as a child that the solitary vice was unhealthy and improper. While men may feel that desire, he shouldn't give into those urges. William had lapsed several times, but he'd maintained a purity in that area as best he could.

And yet, he knew that Buffy had encouraged him to disregard those values last night. His experience watching the television suggested to him that sex was regarded in such a way that onanism may no longer be considered a vice. This way of thinking made sense to him, as the act harmed no one. Still, he couldn't help the guilt that came after.

Especially as the act was done while thinking of Buffy. The thought of soiling a woman such as her was unforgiveable. She was above that sort of treatment. Above him, if he thought honestly about it. The feelings that he was beginning to experience for her rivaled anything he'd felt back in his own time.

William shut off the water, reaching for a towel as he exited the shower. In this more modern time of blatantly open sexuality, perhaps he could use that openness to his benefit to settle his conscience. It's not as if he didn't have somebody who was imminently suitable to discuss this with.

***

Xander's muscles still ached from the fight a couple nights ago. He was way out of shape. He'd considered doing some training along with William, but he would probably end up embarrassing himself. Especially after seeing him fight with Buffy last night. The Victorian guy was a natural fighter. That should have made Xander uncomfortable given the whole Spike connection, but Xander had decided to just ignore that detail.

He'd spent the day with Dawn, tracking down new recruits. He'd probably have to go off traveling again sometime soon. The traveling was nice, but he was disappointed. Things were starting to go right here now. Buffy was coming out of her post-apocalyptic funk. Dawn and Willow were happier as a result. And Xander had a buddy to hang out with in the form of William.

And, speak of the devil, Xander was surprised when William took advantage of his open invitation to visit. He greeted William happily, thinking about chilling out with some beer for the evening. Maybe watch some sports. Guy stuff. Oh, wonderful, wonderful guy stuff.

William sat down on the couch while Xander grabbed a beer from the kitchen. William declined a drink. Guess he still wasn't over the fun night at the pub yet.

Xander sat down on the far end of the couch, beer bottle in hand. "So what's the plan tonight? Movie? Sports? Bar fight?"

"Actually, there's something I wish to discuss," William said.

"Okay, what?" Xander asked, taking a chug of beer. William seemed to be a bundle of nerves, almost ready to bolt out of the room. Something had the guy spooked.

"It's something of a delicate matter," William replied. "However, I gather it's an acceptable topic of discussion in this time, so I hope this is not breeching any social boundaries."

"Alright."

"I…well," William stuttered. "I wish to talk about sex."

Xander couldn't help the goofy grin from forming on his face. The mere mention of the word sent him immediately back to junior high maturity. William looked down, obviously off-put by his reaction.

"Right. Sex," Xander rubbed his hands together. "What about it?"

"I know that it's treated differently now. There are a couple things I'm uncertain about. The first being…masturbation." William looked back up at Xander.

"Okay, masturbation. It – well – it happens." Okay, now Xander wanted to bolt out of the room. Talking about masturbation with a guy from the Victorian period? Not high on his list of fun things to do. He just hoped William didn't want a demonstration on technique.

"And it's considered normal? To partake in the act?" William asked eagerly.

"Yeah," Xander dropped the grin. "I mean, especially for guys. It's normal. No big deal."

William nodded, looking relieved.

"Then the second thing I wanted to discuss is a bit more personal," William said.

"More personal than masturbation?" Xander felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to be shoved off. He should have had more alcohol before this talk.

"Well, yes. I'm afraid I may have offended Buffy last night during our sparring match." William said hesitantly.

"She didn't seem offended."

"Yes, you see. The fight left me rather – er – aroused, and she undoubtedly noticed at the end."

And William pushed him off the cliff, leaving Xander to tumble into the chasm of wrongness, limbs flailing helplessly. That was something Xander definitely, absolutely, completely, did not want to know about. "Oh, right. Cause the whole fighty, close-quarters thing. I gotcha." Too much like Spike. Way too much like Spike. And…just weird. But Xander couldn't tell William that. The guy would probably cry. Xander couldn't handle crying. Instead, he decided to placate him. "But Buffy wouldn't get offended by that."

William frowned. "She should. It was absolutely improper to have that reaction to her."

"William, it happens to guys. Girls know that. Buffy knows that. Trust me, she wouldn't be offended."

William still looked confused. Xander knew that Buffy probably wouldn't be offended. He knew it would make her uncomfortable because of the whole Spike thing, which he was not thinking about. Xander told himself that William would have reacted that way to any girl. It's not like this pre-Spike guy had a thing for the Buffster. That'd be a monumentally impossible coincidence. Just…no.

"Xander, do women enjoy sex?" William asked, breaking Xander from his thoughts.

Xander's grin was back. He thought of Anya. "Well, yeah. Listen, girls like sex. Guys like sex. People like sex. We just try to work things out so we're all having sex with right people. That's it." And Buffy's not the right person for you to have sex with. So don't, Xander thought.

"I'm sorry if that seems like a daft question. It is believed, in my time, that women do not enjoy the act of intercourse. Sex is something only men desire. To think that a woman may want sex is…people from my time would consider her a fallen woman."

Xander shrugged. "I'm glad I live in this time."

William smiled. "I think I'm beginning to feel the same way."

Buffy wasn't certain how exactly this trip had come about. It had started with a fairly simple mission: Willow had asked her to go into London to meet an old witch who had a scroll that might help explain the mystery of the amulet. The witch was, apparently, a little eccentric and would only hand over the scroll to the Slayer. Not any Slayer. Just the one.

So Buffy had been preparing to go to London, which would be a good day trip for her. Then William had asked if he could join her. She hadn't been expecting it. The last time they had seen each other had been very awkward, and she'd made every effort to avoid him afterward. He made no mention of their previous sparring, though, and simply told her that he wanted to see if his old house was still there.

She couldn't exactly refuse him. He'd been polite. And it had been several days since the incident. Obviously, if he had asked her, she didn't make him too uncomfortable. There was no reason against it. They could just pretend the whole thing never happened, which was fine by her. It's not like she even thought about him like that. Fighting always got her worked up. Especially when she was fighting somebody with Spike's body.

Okay, that was a bad train of thought. Bad, bad train of thought!

She hadn't dreamt about Spike often after his death. After sparring with William, though, her nights were suddenly filled with tangled memories of their time together. Pale skin slick with sweat leading her to rapturous bliss in the darkest year of her life. Quieter memories of nights spent in his arms before the end of the world, being held by the one who cherished her above all else. Memories of fights past with traded blows and verbal jabs as they danced around each other. All these images blended together in her dreams to form a whirlwind of sensation that left her craving for more when she woke up.

But she woke up alone. Spike was gone.

And now, William was beside her. Walking beside her in the sunlight down one of the streets of London.

It was confusing.

"Getting the scroll shouldn't take long," Buffy said, breaking the silence that had been traveling with them since leaving the castle. "Then we'll see if your house is still around."

She could see William nodding out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head slightly to watch him as he gazed around, eyes searching for some landmark that he might recognize.

"Looks kinda different now, huh?" Buffy asked.

"Yes, quite," he replied softly. "It's a lot cleaner."

Buffy wrinkled her nose. She thought London was pretty dirty in this time. She couldn't imagine what William was talking about. She usually avoided going in to London. It seemed so busy and noisy, and all it did was serve to remind her that the rest of the world was moving around her while she seemed to be stationary.

At least, that was the impression she had gotten in her few visits before.

This visit didn't seem so bad. Yes, it was still crowded and people moved quickly about their business. But she felt like she was moving with them now.

"So you grew up here?" Buffy asked.

"No," William shook his head. "Mother and I actually had just recently moved to London before I appeared here. Previously, we'd been living in Somerset. That's where I grew up."

"Oh," Buffy said, noticing the small magic shop that they'd been looking for. "Here we are."

It was an unassuming store, sitting between two much larger tourist shops. One had to walk down a short flight of steps to get down to the door. It seemed more like someone had built a shop in the alley between two buildings as opposed to being a store in its own right. Buffy was hit with an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia upon entering. Ever since her resurrection, enclosed spaces had been uncomfortable for her. That the inside of the store was dark and musty, smelling of various earthy scents, didn't help matters at all.

In the corner, incense burned and Buffy looked around, trying to find the witch, Amelia, who had the scroll. The store seemed to be empty. William hung back by the door, obviously uncomfortable with the atmosphere.

Buffy moved carefully towards the back of the shop. The oppressive shelves were difficult to navigate around, and the merchandise seemed to fall on the "dangerous" end of the magic spectrum. Her Slayer-senses were all too aware that this might be some sort of trap.

Before she reached the very back of the shop, though, a small older woman came out from behind a curtained employee's area. The woman stood shorter than Buffy, which was pretty damn short. Buffy was startled to see that the woman's eyes were a milky white. She was blind.

"The Slayer," the woman said in greeting. It wasn't a question but a declaration.

Buffy looked back to William, who was still standing by the entrance. "Yeah, that's me."

The woman grabbed her hand with a lightning speed that caught Buffy by surprise. "Of course it is. Come on back, and we'll discuss that scroll, dear."

"Uh," Buffy glanced at William again. "Well, I have a – "

"You go on. I'll wait out here," William called, staying firmly where he was.

"Yes," Amelia agreed. "Neither of us really want him, anyway, now do we?"

Buffy studied the other woman's face, curious about her words. A gentle tug from the smaller woman, though, and Buffy was led into the backroom.

Boxes lined the walls, and a round table sat in the middle. Not surprisingly, there was a crystal ball in the center of the table. Gee, cliché much?

Amelia released her hold on Buffy and moved to a cabinet in the corner, rummaging through various artifacts.

"They were gonna send one of those new Slayers. You know the ones I mean. But I told them that I would only give this to you. Buffy Summers, the Chosen One."

"I heard," Buffy said. "So, how'd you get this scroll thingy?"

"I collect them. I run a magic shop, dear. I always have a bunch of scrolls. Ah, here we are!" Amelia pulled out a ragged scroll from one of the drawers. She held it up as if to inspect it, yet she was staring with sightless eyes.

Okay, that was a little creepy.

"About that amulet," Amelia said, rolling the scroll and handing it to Buffy.

Buffy opened it slightly to look at the foreign lettering strewn about the page. "It's not in English."

"Of course not."

"Do you know what it says?"

"Yes, but that's for you and your friends to discover. I'm just a provider, so to speak."

Buffy rolled her eyes, though she wasn't entirely certain that Amelia wouldn't notice. She carefully tucked the scroll into her handbag and looked back up. Amelia was gazing at her expectantly.

"Uh…we're willing to pay you whatever amount you feel is fair," Buffy said, preparing to reach for the Council credit card.

Amelia waved her hand. "I don't think monetary compensation is fair."

Buffy stopped. "Okay." She wasn't sure where this was leading.

"What I would ask instead, is for the Chosen One to remember her duty. Stop lollygagging around and do your damn job," Amelia said, speaking in a matter-of-fact manner as if she hadn't just verbally punched Buffy in the gut.

"Excuse me?" Buffy replied. "What the hell are you talking about? You don't even know me!"

"Oh, I wish I didn't. How I wish I didn't know that you are the one we're all depending on. Stop lingering in the past and get on with it."

"Get on with what? Lingering? Huh?"

"You are unreasonably dense, dear."

Buffy threw her hands up. "Okay. That's it! Thanks for the scroll. Bye!"

She turned and pushed aside the curtain, walking quickly back to the entrance. William gave her a quizzical look, but she just grabbed his arm and dragged him with her as she stormed out.

They were a couple blocks down before Buffy had calmed down enough to walk at a more leisurely pace.

"What was that about?" William finally caught up to her, breathing heavily from the brisk walk.

Buffy could still feel the heat in her cheeks from anger at Amelia's words. She hated it when people got all advicey to her. Especially when she didn't ask for it. Get on with it? With what?

"Nothing," Buffy replied to William. "Just…she…it's nothing. Forget it." She waved her arm as if to brush aside the woman's words, but Buffy felt them still hanging in the air. She took a deep breath to calm down. "Let's go see if your house is still around. Where would it be?"

William looked unsure, but didn't ask any further questions. He just nodded in acknowledgment. "Dulwich."

Along the way, they stopped at a small cafe and had lunch. Buffy found herself forgetting the awkwardness caused by the event a few nights ago and allowed herself to just enjoy William's company. He had such an enthusiasm for everything. Probably because most of it was new to him. It was the same joy for life that Buffy had seen, albeit somewhat muted, in Spike.

Amelia had said she was "lingering". Lingering on what? Well, that was obvious. It was staring her in the face every time she glanced up from her plate. Spike was always with her, even though he'd been gone for months.

It was useless not to compare William to Spike. She'd tried. Oh, how she'd tried. But every mannerism, every step, every shy smile reminded her of Spike. It told her that the man sitting across from her wasn't so far away from the man she'd lost as she'd thought.

Maybe that's what Amelia had meant. Maybe she meant that Buffy should stop trying to avoid it and get on with it. With William. With Spike. The amulet had granted them some sort of future together. She should take advantage of it.

"Buffy?"

Buffy's thoughts were interrupted by William's tentative question. She blinked, realizing that she'd been staring at him for the past several moments. Boy, that was sure to make him uncomfortable.

She laughed nervously, looking down at her empty plate. "Sorry. Just sorta spaced out."

When she looked up, he was tilting his head to one side as if he could see her emotions and thoughts. She felt all air leave her lungs at the gesture, suddenly struck by how right this could be with him. How it might have been meant to be.

"Shall we go?" William asked, standing and offering his hand to help her up.

They had to go to Victoria station to catch the train to Dulwich and then walk to where William's house had been. It didn't take long to realize that it wasn't there anymore.

William gaped at the large, trendy shopping area that was in front of them. A clothing shop stood next to a jeweler, which was next to a bookshop. Pedestrians bustled in between. Buffy stood by his side, not sure what to say.

"It's gone," William muttered to himself.

"Well," Buffy said, trying to think of something comforting. "It was over a hundred years ago."

William's shoulders sagged. He glanced around, finding a bench on the sidewalk and sitting down on it. Buffy sat next to him. He continued to stare at the masses of people going in and out of the shops, utterly oblivious that they were walking on the place where the man had lived.

"We'd just moved there," William said.

"Hey, I don't know if it helps, but my house is gone, too. It kinda got destroyed in an apocalypse that didn't take," Buffy said, trying for cheerful.

William turned to look at her, obviously puzzled at her statement. Well, that didn't go well. Seems Buffy needed some lessons in tact from Anya or somebody.

"Sorry," Buffy said. "I'm just not sure what else to tell you."

"It's alright," William said. His voice was flat, belying the sincerity in his words. "As you said, it was old. And the city would most likely benefit from another shopping area."

Buffy shook her head. "Doesn't feel right, does it?"

"No, it doesn't." He paused, hesitating before speaking further. "I worry about my mother. She was ill when I came here. I just wonder what became of her."

A shock went down Buffy's spine, and her muscles tensed. The night he was taken from his time, the other William became a vampire. Spike had never told her about his mother, but she wouldn't be surprised to hear that she had fallen victim to a newly vamped William. She couldn't tell that to this William, though.

"What was she sick with?"

"Consumption. Tuberculosis. We'd moved to London to be closer to better medical care for her." He wasn't looking at her. Instead, he was staring down at his lap, eyes distant in remembrance. "She must have been so worried when I didn't return home. I wish I could have spared her that." He squeezed his eyes shut tightly before looking up and opening them again. "I wish I knew what had happened to her."

Buffy could almost feel the frustration emanating from him. She felt so damn useless. She wasn't so good with the comforting thing.

Except…

Struck with sudden inspiration, Buffy rustled through her purse for her cellphone. She pulled it out and punched the speed dial. A glance at William showed him to be staring at her in curiosity. She held up one finger.

"Hello?" Willow's voice came on the line.

"Hey, Will. You by your computer?" Buffy asked. She could at least try to give William some information.

"Uh, yeah, hold on."

There were some general moving noises as Willow walked to her computer desk. Buffy could hear her talking to Kennedy in the background. Finally, Willow's voice came back clearly.

"Yeah, whatcha need?"

"Could you check to see if you can find out what happened to William's mother? You know, after he got brought here? Her name was…" Buffy looked over at William, realizing she didn't know the woman's name.

"Anne Pratt," William supplied.

Buffy smiled. Figures. His mother had her middle name. Bringing the phone back to her ear, Buffy repeated the name for Willow and informed her what district they were in.

There was some tapping on the other line, along with some general Willow-noises. Finally, after several minutes, Willow spoke, "Hey, I'm checking the censuses that were taken during that time. Anne Pratt's not showing up on the 1881 Census for London."

Buffy frowned. That's what she had been hoping not to hear."Do you have any idea what happened?"

There was some more clicking and humming from Willow. "Hmmm. They don't have a death certificate on record for her. I can keep digging if you want, but -"

"No, it's okay, Will. We'll be back later." Buffy didn't need to know any more. She could already guess what had happened. Most likely, a very violent fledgling William had killed her and disposed of the body somehow.

Buffy disconnected the call and carefully put her phone back in her purse before turning to William. He was waiting eagerly for her to speak.

"William," Buffy said. "Willow searched the records. It doesn't seem like your mom survived long after you arrived here."

William sat back, looking away. Buffy let him process that. She knew that he had known his mother was dead. Obviously, his mother had died. But she had, apparently, died not one year after William had been turned. That didn't bode well for her fate once the original William had been vamped.

Buffy couldn't tell him that.

"Miss Rosenberg wasn't able to find out how she died?" he asked, still not looking up.

Buffy shook her head. "No."

He nodded in understanding. "Well, she was ill. And without me to take care of –"

He stopped himself abruptly, clamping his mouth shut, and Buffy could tell that he was doing so to hold in a sob. On instinct, Buffy grabbed his hand and held it. She gave a slight squeeze, trying to give him some sort of assurance that everything would be okay.

And they sat in silence on the bench in front of where William's house had once been.

***

It was well into the evening by the time they returned to the castle. They had briefly stopped by Willow's cubby to drop off the scrolls, and then William had insisted on walking Buffy to her cubby.

William was tired after the trip into London. Particularly given the information, or lack thereof, that he'd discovered about his mother and home. He wanted nothing more than to retire to his cubby and sleep a hopefully dreamless sleep.

However, he was unable to refuse when Buffy invited him into her cubby for coffee. Her gentle understanding and sympathy had been a salve for him today as he'd faced how very much the world had changed from his time. He doubted that he would have been able to refuse her anything she might ask for.

He had been delighted when she'd agreed to allow him to accompany her into London. Ever since his conversation with Xander, William had been considering ways to forward his relationship with Buffy. She had been avoiding him, however, which had discouraged him at first. However, he quickly realized that her avoidance was due to her own fears rather than any distaste for him.

When he had heard that she was taking a trip in to the city, he had immediately asked Mr. Giles if he could go along with her. William was happy that he'd been able to use this outing to get past their initial nervousness so that he could pursue the relationship further.

Buffy was sitting down with two cups of coffee when he reached into his pocket for a kerchief to wipe his glasses with. As he did so, a scrap of paper fluttered out and onto the floor.

William froze, reflexes sluggish from the day's exertions. Buffy stared at the paper and looked up at him. "What's that?" she asked.

Spurred into action by her question, he hastily bent down to pick up the scrap, cramming it back into his pocket. "It's nothing," he said as he sat down next to her on the couch. "Just some piece of scrap paper. Absolutely nothing."

Buffy pressed her lips together, scrunching her eyebrows in skepticism. "Uh-huh. You wrote some bad things about me, didn't you?" she teased.

William couldn't help but smile at that. "I wouldn't be able to think of a single bad thing I could write about you," he replied.

He was reluctant for her to know about the poem he'd been working on. He did feel a strong desire to be with Buffy. A desire above and beyond anything he'd felt before. And while he was eager to pursue a relationship with her, it frightened him to reveal his heart to her in such a manner at this point. It was this feeling that left him terrified of her rejection should she read his poetry.

Then she smiled at him. A genuine smile that displayed all her radiant beauty and lit up the dark room. He felt his own heart light up with joy at the look on her face. A look that he had granted her in affording her such a small compliment. He wanted to see that smile again. And often.

He glanced down, summoning the courage that he'd had once before when confessing his feelings to Cecily back in his own time. This time would be different. Buffy was not Cecily, and the piddling feelings he felt for the brunette were trivial compared to what he now felt for Buffy. This time had to be different.

"Actually," he looked back up. "It's…it's a poem. I wrote a poem…for you."

He was dismayed to see the smile disappear from her face. However, she didn't seem displeased. Instead, she seemed to be considering something for a few moments. A few moments that lasted an eternity for William.

"Read it to me?" she asked finally.

He stood, fetching the worn paper from his pocket and straightening the folds. He focused his gaze on the paper, trying hard not to glance at Buffy as he read the words that he'd pored over for the past few days.


"As darkness hath fallen upon a gaze so tired;
The sun shall rise up, bright as fire.
Her beauty and strength do cause my heart to swell;
And light my soul afire and cannot be quelled.
For stronger feelings towards her, there are none;
I simply know that she is the one."


As he finished, he slowly lowered the paper, tentatively looking at Buffy to gauge her reaction. There was a small smile on her face. A faraway look of remembered happiness, and her eyes were large and glistening.

She took a deep breath after a few moments, "William, that was…beautiful. I don't know what to say, really."

He sat down as his spirit soared. She liked his poetry. His bloody awful poetry that, by all rights, nobody should like. She thought it was beautiful.

"You don't need to say anything, Buffy," he said. "I just wrote what I feel…about you. I love you."

He half expected total rejection of the type he'd experienced before. He expected to be asked to leave. Instead, he received no immediate response. Just a look of almost-resigned contentment and indecision that left Buffy silent for several agonizing moments.

He opened his mouth to try to soften whatever damage he'd done with his confession, and was surprised when Buffy sprang forward on the couch, kissing him hard. Her hands tangled in his hair as her mouth claimed his own.

William pulled away, holding Buffy by her shoulders. "Buffy, this is – "

"William," Buffy interrupted, breathing heavily. She touched his cheek, caressing his skin. She took off his glasses and carelessly tossed them onto the coffee table without looking. Leaning forward, she kissed his lower lip, nipping at him with her teeth. "We both want this."

She looked up, meeting his eyes. William could see the complete adoration in them. Adoration for him. That she felt for him.

When she kissed him again, he didn't stop her. There was, after all, no use denying their desires.

Buffy sat at the edge of the couch, buttoning up her blouse. On the other end of the couch, William put his shirt back on.

Don't say anything. Please, please don't say anything, Buffy thought.

"I'm sorry, Buffy," William said softly.

Damn.

"It's okay," she lied.

"No, it was….I'd never…before, so I know it wasn't good…"

Wasn't good? Parker had been better.

Buffy refused to turn around. She didn't want to look at him after that awkward mess of awkwardness. "No, it's fine, William."

"Perhaps it's best if I leave now," William said.

Yes. Yes, leaving would be good. I need some alone time with my showerhead now.

"Yeah," she replied.

She felt the weight on the couch shift as William stood, but her gaze remained focused on the floor until she heard her front door open and close. She sighed. Well, that had been a disaster.

***

William paced back and forth in his small cubby. He'd gotten little rest after having retired to his own room after his disastrous encounter with Buffy. In fact, it was now morning, and Mr. Giles would be expecting him to meet up for his transcription duties.

He shook his head. His duties could wait. He'd performed horribly with Buffy and had embarrassed himself. A part of him wanted to throw a tantrum at his own failure.

However, that part was winding down, and now he was trying to figure out how to fix things. Because he couldn't let this be the end of his relationship with Buffy. They had grown too close, and his feelings were too strong to discard on the basis of one night's fumbling encounter.

He grimaced as images of the night before flashed in his mind. She hadn't been satisfied. Xander had said that women found the act pleasurable, but Buffy hadn't. Of course, it hadn't lasted very long. She'd seemed surprised when it was over.

He stopped in his pacing, closing his eyes to try to erase that particular memory from his mind. Unfortunately, it seemed insistent on staying there to taunt him with his inadequacies.

Obviously, William was just unknowledgeable as to how to make sure a woman received pleasure from the act. He would have to do whatever was necessary to make amends and then go to Buffy with a proper apology for what had happened.

He was determined to make this better.

***

"So what language are these in?" Dawn held the scrolls up to the light, inspecting the fragile parchment they were written on.

Willow quickly grabbed them from her. "Sumerian. I've been working on translating them since Buffy handed the scrolls over to me."

They were in one of the many libraries in the castle. Dawn had volunteered to help Willow, though she hadn't done much actual work. Not that Willow was resentful of all the interruptions or anything. No, no. She loved it when people interrupted her in the middle of translations. It was, like, fun.

Dawn sank down in her seat, folding her arms on the table and putting her head on top of them. "Was Buffy with William when she dropped them off?"

"Yeah," Willow said. She was trying to focus on the translation program she had pulled up on her laptop.

Dawn was blessedly silent for a few minutes. Then she decided to talk again. "I think she and William have hooked up."

Willow's fingers faltered on the keyboard at that. "I dunno, Dawnie. William's not exactly Buffy's type. He's kinda…"

"Human?"

"Yeah."

Dawn's shoulders rose a bit in what Willow guessed was a shrug. "Yeah," Dawn agreed. "But it's still Spike's body, and we know Buffy likes that."

"Dawn!" Willow said. She didn't want to think about Buffy and Spike and their whole ultra-destructive sex-bunnies relationship they'd had that one year. And she especially didn't want to think about Buffy and William making with the loving. That was just weird.

As Willow frantically tried to clear her head of the mental images that were popping up, Buffy walked in. Willow sighed. Great timing.

"So," Buffy said as she sat down across from Willow and Dawn. "Found out anything?"

Willow paused in her typing, inspecting her friend. Buffy didn't seem like she'd just had sex. Girls could tell. Buffy wasn't all glowy or anything. She looked kinda nervous instead and fidgety. Dawn was wrong. Way, way wrong.

"Still working on it, Buff," Willow said.

Dawn raised her head. "Yeah, hopefully we'll figure this out by the end of the day."

Willow resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Dawn hadn't been doing anything to help. Why was she even bothering with giving a status report?

"Did Amelia want some money?" Dawn asked.

Buffy shook her head. "No. She just started spouting off seer advice to me. It was kinda weird." Buffy paused, staring past the table. "I thought it was stupid advice. Then I thought it was good. But now I'm not so sure." Buffy snapped out of her daze, shaking her head. "Crazy old seer."

"Actually," Willow said. "She probably gave some good advice, you know. She did help the Guardians, after all."

"Huh what?"

"You know. The Guardians? The ladies who watched the Watchers?"

Buffy waved a hand. "I know that. But the last of them was killed by Caleb. She's not a Guardian."

"Oh, no. No, she's not a Guardian. But she helped them and had connections to them. She's pretty invested in the Slayers, you know, having served them her entire life."

"Oh," Buffy said, looking suddenly contrite. "Well, she came off…kinda…cranky, you know. And rude. Cranky and rude."

Dawn laughed. "She's like a bazillion years old. People stop caring about being polite when they're that age."

Buffy just nodded, doing that thing where she stared past the table again. She stood up finally. "Well, let me know when you've discovered something."

And then she left before Willow could say anything. Willow looked at Dawn, who put her head down on her arms again.

"She and William totally did it," Dawn said.

***

"I bring beer!" Xander announced as he entered William's cubby.

William had invited him over the day before, and Xander was determined to take him up on that. He was surprised to see William hunched over his desk, a wide array of books strewn about him. The Victorian glanced up before carefully closing his reading material.

Xander set down the booze. "Whatcha reading?"

Walking over, Xander picked up a book. Lesbian Sex. He looked at the other books on the desk. The Joy of Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex: The Loving Guide to Exciting a Woman, and other books of a similar nature.

Xander's mouth opened, but his voice wasn't quite working. Maybe because his throat had dried up and his tongue had gone numb. It was a typical reaction to seeing "lesbian" and "sex" together.

"Will," he squeaked out. "What?"

"Oh," William adjusted his glasses. "I borrowed them from Kennedy. I felt need to educate myself on how to give pleasure to a woman."

"Kennedy?"

"Well, yes. She is a woman, and a good enough acquaintance for me to ask, yet not so intimate as to be awkward." William looked down at the books. "Though I had no idea that women did this with each other. It's been quite enlightening."

Xander smiled in response, sitting down at the edge of the couch. "Why the sudden interest?"

William stood up, grabbing a beer and joining his friend on the opposite side of the couch. "Purely for my own benefit. No…no particular reason, really."

Xander didn't believe him. But Xander also didn't want to know any more about it.

"Would it be improper to speak to you about my relationship with Buffy?" William asked suddenly.

"What? Yes!" Xander exclaimed on instinct. "Yes, it would be horribly inappropriate and wrong and just really really uncomfortable. So don't."

Mental images were already coming to mind. Images that Xander had already seen live before, and that he'd tried so very hard to forget. He didn't want to think about this guy, who was absolutely not Spike, doing stuff with Buffy like that. Nope. He wouldn't even consider it.

William looked down, looking even smaller than he actually was. "Yes, of course. My apologies. I'm still unclear as to where certain boundaries are in this time."

Xander rubbed at his eyes. He wanted to support his friend. But this? No. Buffy wishes for Spike, gets William, and then starts banging him again? No, he couldn't deal with this. Not right now.

He stood up, "Actually," Xander said. "There's something I need to do. I forgot about it. Doing it. That I needed to do it. So I'm gonna go…get it done."

Xander didn't look back as he left William alone.

As the door closed behind him, Xander closed his eyes, sighing heavily. His legs wanted to move back to his own cubby, but he somehow stayed firmly in place.

He wasn't being fair to the guy. William likely didn't have anybody else to talk to about it. And Xander cringed, remembering his own awkward time with Faith way back in the day.

Xander rolled his eyes at himself before turning and entering William's cubby again, hands up as if in surrender. "Okay! Okay! Let's talk. Just…just leave out the details, okay?"

William had still been sitting on the couch, apparently, and looked up in surprise at Xander's return. He nodded in agreement, though, and waited while Xander took a beer and sat down across from him.

"So, what happened?" Xander said. "Just give me an overall picture. Make it as fuzzy as possible."

"We – that is – Buffy and I, were intimate last night. However, I'm quite certain she wasn't…satisfied with the encounter."

"Did she say that?"

"Well, no, but I left afterward."

Xander gaped. "You left her?"

"It was over very quickly. She asked for me to leave."

Ow. Xander felt a pang of sympathy for the guy on that one. He held back his wince, though and nodded instead. "It looks like you're hitting the books to make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Xander," William said. "Do you not think Buffy and I would be a good match?"

Not the right question to ask him. Should he be honest? Or should he be nice? Xander thought about Buffy. Honesty, it was. "Actually, Will, no, I think there couldn't be a worse match."

William flinched noticeably, looking wounded.

Xander continued, though. "She's mourning, Will. She's mourning for a guy that looked just like you. She's confused, and upset, and I think she's holding onto you because you remind her of the guy she lost. But if she didn't have that background with the guy, she wouldn't even look at you twice. Or even once. She wouldn't look at you, is the point."

William looked down, obviously trying to hide the hurt Xander's words caused. There was a long moment's pause where Xander tried to figure out if he should try to say something to take the sting away. William spoke up first though:

"I'm only in her affections through my resemblance to a dead man."

"Vampire," Xander correctly automatically.

"Vampire," William repeated. He looked back up at Xander. "But I love her."

Oh, great. "Then let her go," Xander said.

William shook his head, setting his jaw. "No. I can't give up." He stood and started pacing. "While her initial attraction to me may have been spurred by my having a similar likeness to Spike, I'm certain that I can prove myself worthy of her on my own merits."

"William – "

"No," William said. "I won't hear anymore on this. Spending time with her. Bettering myself for her. This will help her see me as I am, and I dare hope that she'll love me as she was able to so generously love that demon."

Xander frowned when he realized that he wouldn't be able to deter William's persistence in this regard. He stood up as William grabbed another beer.

"I'm sorry, Xander. I have a lot more reading to do before I see Buffy again," William said by way of good-bye.

Xander shook his head. This wasn't going to end well.

***

Buffy nervously arranged some flowers on her coffee table as Willow sat down. Buffy had felt adrift all day. She'd skipped out on all her duties. Not that anybody noticed. It wasn't like she was the most important cog in the Council's wheel. Not now.

The night before with William had left her numb. She'd been riding on such a high, caught up in William and everything that was right about him. And then it had all crashed. Something about it just wasn't right.

It had been late in the evening when Willow had stopped by with news about the scrolls. Buffy wasn't sure if she really wanted to hear the news right now. She'd rather just sleep for the next week or so, and try not to pay attention to anything going on in the world.

"You gonna sit, Buff?" Willow asked.

Buffy nodded, sinking down into the armchair. "So," she sat at the edge of her seat. "What's the what with the scrolls?"

"Well," Willow said. "The amulet was made millennia ago for various uses. However, it had a limited lifespan, which it was at the end of when we got it. It looks like the only reason it did its whole fiery thing is cause of the Hellmouth charging it."

"Charging it? Like a battery?"

"Yeah. You know, like when you jump-start your car. Anyway, that pretty much killed it off. The most power it had left was to grant a wish, which is pretty small in terms of magic."

Buffy sighed. "And so now it's dead."

"Pretty much. But this amulet has kinda an 'undo' function."

"Huh?"

Willow cleared her throat, obviously trying to find the best way to phrase things. "You get one 'undo' on the amulet. It's possible for you to undo your wish."

"Send William back?" Buffy felt numb.

"No. It would undo the wish entirely. This William is a copy of the real William. If you undo the wish, he would disappear. And our memory of him, his time with us, would be gone, too. It'd be just like you never made the wish."

No, she didn't feel numb. She felt sick. She felt her stomach falling, and she wasn't sure as to why. She shook her head. "After I undo it, could I then – "

"No, the amulet's still dead, Buffy." Willow shook her head.

"It would kill him," Buffy said.

There was a long pause before Willow replied. "He's not supposed to be here anyway."

Buffy stood up, mainly to hide how upset this news was making her. "So you think it would be okay to kill him?"

"It wouldn't be killing him. It would just be setting things right. We wouldn't even remember."

Buffy turned. "And you think that's okay? Whatever you call it, he wouldn't be here anymore."

"I think," Willow's mouth hung open as she considered what to say. "I think it's up to you. Your wish. If you want to keep it in place, then do nothing. If you want to reverse it, let me know." Willow stood up, grabbing the files she'd brought with her. "Whatever makes you happiest, Buffy."

Willow left.

Buffy laughed. Whatever made her happiest. William certainly had shaken things up when he'd appeared. She didn't know what to do. Getting rid of William, wiping him from this time, was out of the question. He was here, for better or worse. William was her last link to Spike, after all.

Wouldn't it be tempting, though, to just wipe it all clean? Erase the wish and not have to worry about this whole confusion?

She wanted Spike back with her. Spike. Not William.

The realization hit her like an uber-vamp's punch. She sat down, not really by choice but because her knees wouldn't support her.

Ever since William had appeared, she'd been searching for any tiny hint that he might have Spike in him somewhere. Any small sign. And then…then she'd pounced when she'd seen it. But it wasn't him. No matter what base similarities there were, it still wasn't Spike.

She heard her own choked sob as her tears fell freely. Spike wasn't coming back to her. And, try as she might, she couldn't act like William was him anymore. It wasn't fair to either of them.

Buffy fought down the grief-stricken shudders that were wracking her body. She shook her head. She couldn't accept that. Taking deep breaths, she forced herself to calm down. She had somewhere to go.

***

There was a familiar mustiness to the shop. Somehow, Buffy hadn't been surprised to find that Amelia's store was open at this time of night. As before, it was empty of any other customers. However, this time, Amelia stood at the back, as if she'd been waiting for Buffy's arrival.

Buffy hesitated at the threshold. Now that she was here, she wasn't sure what she was really looking for. She'd taken Amelia's earlier words as encouragement to pursue a relationship with William. Now, however, she wasn't sure what the seer had meant.

"Somebody had a tragedy," Amelia remarked casually.

Buffy inhaled sharply. "About what you said yesterday when I was here -"

"Yes, it made a convenient excuse for you to do what you wanted, anyway, didn't it?"

Buffy shook her head in frustration. "Have you seers ever considered just saying what you mean? Something other than these cryptic statements that us, the mere mortals, have to interpret!"

Amelia smiled, walking forward to stand behind the counter at the register. She looked to be waiting, so Buffy grudgingly approached, standing on the other side.

"I'll only tell you what you already know," Amelia said.

"Which is?"

"Your Spike is gone."

The words twisted Buffy's gut and sent her reeling, but she maintained her composure. "William -"

"William is what Spike was over one hundred years ago," Amelia interrupted. "Give William a demon and wait a century, and then you might have your Spike." Buffy didn't want to respond to that. Responding to it was tantamount to accepting it. "You're not honoring Spike's memory by clinging onto William."

"You don't know the first thing about how I'm honoring Spike's memory!" Buffy spit out, angered at Amelia's presumption.

"Don't I? Withdrawing from your friends, ignoring your duty as a Slayer, chasing after some ghost from the past. Spike didn't die so that you could stay frozen in that moment. He died so you could move on. And while you're moping around about lost love, the world out there is missing the best Slayer it's ever seen."

Protests died in Buffy's throat. She knew it was useless to even try to deny any of what the seer was saying. "I just miss him," she said, aware that her voice was much squeakier than she liked it to be.

Amelia nodded, "To be expected, my dear." She bent down, searching for something behind the counter. "That's why I have a gift for you."

The older woman finally set the nondescript box down on the counter, stepping back for Buffy to take it.

"What is it?" Buffy asked.

"A lasting moment of happiness."

The sun was already coming up by the time Buffy had arrived back at the castle, but Buffy didn't care. The day could wait. Right now, she had something much more important to take care of.

Her hands shook as she put on her pajamas and brushed her hair. She wanted to get this over with. Amelia's explanation of the gift had left her excited and nervous at the same time. If it worked as Amelia had promised, then Buffy would be able to see him again. One last time.

She opened the box as she sank down onto her bed. It was very ordinary-looking, if Buffy were to be honest. A simple white candle. There wasn't even a candlestick or base for it. However, sometimes magical objects didn't need to look flashy.

Buffy lit the candle, breathing in the herbal scent that began to permeate the room. Amelia had said that this was a one-use object. She'd only have one chance to get it right.

She turned off her light and lay back onto her pillow. She was tired from being up all night, but almost too jittery to fall asleep. It was only the soothing smell of the candle and Amelia's promise of the dream that calmed her to the point of sleep.

It wasn't the past. It wasn't anywhere. It was just where she was now.

There was only the present as Buffy reclined on the unfamiliar bed with the strange smell of someone else's laundry detergent. Words having just left her mouth and still echoing around the room: "Will you just hold me?"

Spike was standing by the stranger's armchair with the stranger's clothes thrown on it. His face was inscrutable as he looked at her before starting to move back to the bed.

Time skipped. The seconds when he wasn't touching her. They weren't important. She was in his arms again. Him wrapped around her, arms entwined. She was drawing strength from him, as she'd done before. She watched his face as he fell asleep, knowing that she'd never find another person like him again. Not another person with such all-consuming love and fire. Strength, resilience, intense loyalty, and years of wisdom that often went disregarded in the face of pure emotion. That was all Spike. He was the man she'd known for years. Fought as an enemy, tolerated as an ally, turned to in despair, leaned on for strength. They had hated each other, fought each other, hurt each other, and loved each other. She had a history with him unlike anything else, and they knew one another in the most intimate of ways. Soul, body, mind. He was her companion in all ways possible. That was Spike.

It wasn't William. William was the starting point. He was a good man. However, he wasn't the man she'd fallen in love with. She could accept that now, as she held Spike close to her. It was only here, in this place that wasn't, that she could come to terms with that.

She'd left him then in reality. Here, though, she'd stay with him till morning. As long as she could. After all, the end of the world didn't matter here.

Her cheeks were wet when he stirred, waking up. He could probably sense her hitched breathing. Those damn vampire senses made it hard to hide anything from him. Or maybe he was just that attuned to her.

He frowned as he saw she was crying, hand stroking her arm in a comforting rhythm. He didn't need to ask what was wrong. The question hung in the air, unspoken. Whenever she cried, Spike wanted to do whatever he could to make things better.

She took a breath, whispering, "I'm never going to see you again after this."

He frowned further, pausing for a few moments. "You'll remember me?" he asked, only a hint of insecurity creeping into his voice.

She bit her lip, nodding and feeling fresh tears form in her eyes.

He smiled. "That's alright, then."

She could have told him that he'd die a hero and that he would have been loved at the end. That would be a waste of the moment, though. Here, he didn't care about being a hero, and he knew he was loved. Instead, Buffy leaned forward and kissed him. It wasn't a frantic, desperate kiss of their time together before. It was gentle and comforting as he held her, and she tried to memorize his taste, his smell, his soul. His soft lips spelled promises against hers. That he was hers and would be until the end. In return, she told him the same. No words were needed between them to know that.

She pulled away, and he brought his hand up to brush away her tears. She smiled in embarrassment, knowing that she probably looked awful now after having cried so much. She also knew that he didn't care.

"I just wish," she said. "That I had something to remember you by."

He stroked her hair, laying her head down under his chin and holding her in his embrace. She could feel the rumble of his voice in his chest as he spoke. "Wait till morning, love."

The night was silent then as the two held each other for the last time, resigned to their impending separation. The future didn't matter. Only this moment did. It was a moment outside time that would be seared into her memory and impressed upon her heart for her to keep with her.

Buffy's skin tingled, and she felt herself begin to wake up. Quickly, she raised her head to look at Spike, reaching a hand to caress his cheek. She wanted to see him as she left this place. Spike held her hand and squeezed, nodding at her in understanding. She whispered "Good-bye" as the room faded away.

Reality hit her hard when she woke up. Details overwhelmed her as the stark contrast of the real world collided with her senses. Her head pounded. She could almost feel his skin beneath her palm, still, and the impression of his body underneath hers.

She looked at her night table, noting that it was just past noon. The candle had burnt down to almost nothing. Amelia had been right. One-use only.

She sat up, feeling like she'd just passed through some type of barrier. Her world today was not what it had been yesterday. And that was a good thing. The confusion that she'd had before was gone. Spike, William, the amulet. It was clear what she had to do now that she'd been granted one final night with Spike's memory.

It was only as she was about to stand that she noticed the photo behind the candle. She picked it up and smiled. Spike had been true to his word.

***

Buffy was dreading this. Her footsteps echoed down the stone corridor, and she found herself walking as slowly as possible. She'd been making arrangements all day; doing everything except face William. Now, finally, as the evening had wound down and she had nothing left to procrastinate with, she had little choice but to go through with this.

Still, she found herself almost walking past William's door instead of knocking. She hated having to do this.

William answered the door, looking surprised to see her. "Buffy," he said, though it was more to himself than to her. "Would you like to come in?"

She nodded, throat suddenly dry. She could face down apocalypses, vampires, and demons of all sizes, but she couldn't do this?

She entered his cubby, looking around briefly. He hadn't had much time to decorate, so the furnishings were sparse. He did have a desk in the corner that was covered with papers. She turned to face him.

"William, we need to talk -"

"No, Buffy, I have something to say," he said quickly.

Buffy bit her lip. She didn't want to hear anything he had to say, but she let him continue anyway.

"I know that our…encounter was less than satisfying for you, and I admit that I am embarrassed at my performance." Buffy tried to interrupt him, but he kept talking, obviously going off a script he'd had prepared. "I have, however, been researching on ways to improve in that area, and, if you would be willing, I would like to try again." He finally took a breath, eyeing her nervously.

He'd been researching? There're ways to research that? Buffy didn't want to think about that too much because all roads led to porn, and that just left her with the image of William watching some Penthouse movie while scribbling down notes. Perhaps with Xander munching on popcorn beside him. No, no. Bad image.

Still, Buffy couldn't deny that there was something strangely endearing about William doing research as to how to be a better lover. It was sweet and enthusiastic. Just like William.

It just made this harder.

She sighed, shaking her head. "William, we can't." The words hung in the air. William's reaction was muted, as if he'd been expecting it. Buffy quickly continued, "Not because of the sex. I mean, this - researching - it's very sweet. I appreciate it. But we can't be together."

William shook his head. "There's something there, Buffy. Between us. You've felt it -"

She looked away. She couldn't do this while looking at those damn blue eyes of his. "No, William. There's something that was between me and Spike. And…I was just seeing parts of him in you. It's not fair to you to do that."

He looked confused. "So was there nothing in me that you were attracted to? Nothing that I, alone, possess or that you appreciated as a facet of being me rather than a reminder of him?"

She scrunched her forehead at his words. She didn't like what he was asking, and she didn't really want to answer him. However, he deserved honesty from her. Especially after what she had put him through.

"Every time I looked at you, I was looking for Spike," she said, cringing as the words came out. "I just missed him so much."

Buffy looked up and instantly regretted it. William was looking down at his shoes, hands shaking and obviously trying not to cry outright.

"But I do love you," he whispered softly.

"I know," she said. "And a part of me loves you, too. But it's the wrong part, and you deserve better than that."

He still didn't look up, and a silence fell between them.

"William," Buffy said. "I'm going to Cleveland tomorrow morning to take over operations there. It's time I actually get involved with the Slaying again." She stepped forward, placing her hand at the back of his neck as she touched her forehead to his. "You need someone who will love you for being you. Not because you remind her of her dead boyfriend. You're a good man. Someone will see that."

She paused for a second before kissing his cheek and stepping back. She reached into her pocket and took out the amulet. The shiny piece of jewelry that had started everything shimmered in the dim light of William's cubby.

"This is the amulet that brought you here," she explained, though he was still avoiding her eyes. "I gave it to Spike last year…because he was a champion. I think you should have it. You need something to remind yourself of your own potential." He didn't reach for it, so she placed it on the coffee table. "It's yours by right."

He didn't seem like he was going to be saying anything, so she turned to leave.

At the door, she stopped. "I'm sorry," she called back before finally exiting.

***

The clock told him the sun was coming up, though William couldn't see it.

What was there about him? Was he so plain and ordinary that he could not hold her attention? Did he aim too high in his affections? Surely, that was something beyond his control. He had thought that she returned his feelings. Did she not smile at his poetry? She had desired him, after all. She'd said so, herself.

She'd never said the words, though. She'd given him words of encouragement and friendship, but not of love.

Every time she looked at him, she was looking for Spike.

That was the harsh truth that William kept coming back to. He'd been a convenient stand-in for her in her grief. It seemed that he could be made a fool in this time, as well.

The middle of the night had already seen him play out his anger and frustration. Now, he only had the numbness as he tried to figure out where he had gone wrong, and how he could have changed things.

There was a knock on his door, and Xander entered without waiting for a response, ready to go in to work together.

"Hey, there! Brought donuts-" Xander paused in his entry.

Xander took in the mess of a room with the torn bits of poetry as William remained on his spot on the couch where he'd been sitting for hours during his struggle to come to terms with Buffy's departure. He knew his face was likely red and blustery from tears shed earlier, but he didn't much care at the moment.

"There a problem, William?" Xander asked carefully. When William didn't say anything, Xander continued. "Would this have anything to do with Buffy leaving for Cleveland later this morning?"

William tensed at the mention. Xander nodded knowingly and put the box of donuts down to sit across from William.

William looked up at his friend. "She didn't care for me," he said.

"What? She say that?"

"No, but…she was wanting him. Not me." William rubbed his eyes, aware of how tired he was. He was also aware that sleep would bring unpleasant dreams of blonde sirens who would entice him until he was smitten and then would cruelly discard him at their convenience.

"It's good she told you now before this got way out of hand," Xander said. "Trust me on this. I've seen it get out of hand before."

"I suppose some people aren't worthy of that type of love," William said wryly.

"What? William, it's one girl. There's a whole world out there!" Xander said, standing up. "If you had windows, I'd be pointing that out to you."

William shook his head. "Buffy is -"

"Special," Xander interrupted. "Yeah, I get that. Listen, Buffy has a 'type'. And guys like us? Don't fit it."

William looked up, frowning. "Spike did?"

"Yeah, he did. But if you were like Spike, I would not have brought you donuts. So, see? It's a fair trade." Xander sat down again. "Look, I know it hurts, being rejected by her. But it was the kindest thing she could have done. Don't hate her for it or anything."

William smiled as he considered Xander's words. Not about the donuts but about Buffy.

Try as he might, it was hard for him to maintain that resentment towards her. Oh, yes, it had been going strong throughout the night. But as morning came, he was starting to come to some realizations. Buffy had gotten caught up in the past and accidentally ended up hurting him. He couldn't begrudge her, much as he might want to. His eyes wandered to the amulet which had been saved from his tantrum earlier in the night. It was the object that had brought them together, and yet it represented that which kept them apart. What had Buffy said about it? That it would remind him of his potential?

"Hey," Xander said. "I'm leaving in a few days. Doing my traveling thing. Finding new Slayers and such. You should come with me."

"Go with you?"

"What better way to get used to this world than to travel in it? Plus, you'll meet more people that way. Learn more about the work we do." Xander shrugged. "I could use the company."

William had never left the country in his own time. Traveling to faraway lands sounded exciting. Lord knew that he needed to get away from this place. Though Buffy was leaving, this castle would still hold memories that he found unpleasant to recall.

Also, with Xander teaching him about their work, he might be able to make himself useful in the future. Despite whatever Buffy was looking for when she looked at him, she'd always seen a good man. She'd said so. She may not have loved him, but she did believe in him. The amulet she left was a testament to that.

He didn't want to let her down.

William nodded. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes," William looked at Xander. "I'll go with you."

"Great! I've always wanted a sidekick. I'll be Xan-man and you can be Victorian Boy. Or we can work out the names later," Xander smiled. "You obviously need sleep," he waved his arm at the mess in the room. "I'll leave you to it. We'll get together tomorrow to work out the details."

Xander left, leaving a chocolate donut behind, just in case William wanted a snack before going to bed. William found he wasn't very hungry, actually. He did feel, however disastrous the evening had been, that the morning had brought forth a resolution that might be the best for his future.

He was looking forward to it.

***

She didn't have many clothes to pack, which was fortunate. Buffy had made the mistake of waiting till the last minute to get her luggage out and actually gather her things together. She was racing the clock before she had to leave to get to the airport.

Everybody had been happy to hear she was going to Cleveland to take charge. She thought she saw Giles get giddy, even. They'd all been so used to her "hands-off" approach lately. Buffy hadn't realized how much of her slack they'd been picking up. Work that, by all rights, she should have been doing was being taken care of by Giles or Dawn. That's not what she had fought for in this last battle, and that's not what Spike had sacrificed himself for.

Talking to William had been difficult. It was necessary, however. And she felt better knowing that William had a close friend in Xander to help him through this time. She knew William was resilient. He'd do well.

She had to start thinking about herself.

As she folded her last shirt and put it in the luggage, she grabbed the last item left to put on top.

It was the photo from this morning. It looked like the type of couple photo you might get done at some photo place. She was in Spike's arms, leaning back against his chest, head resting on his shoulder. She wore a huge smile. He, predictably, had a cocky smirk on his face that told the world exactly how he felt about having Buffy in his arms. His eyes made it clear that he was happy. And he was loved.

Buffy smiled. It was a beautiful photo. They'd never actually had photos taken, of course. They'd never managed to reach that point in their relationship before the end. If they had, though, she's sure this is what it would look like. She silently thanked Amelia for the token. She finally had something to remember Spike by. It was something she could look at and treasure while moving on with her own life.

Carefully packing the photograph, she closed the luggage and glanced around, doing a last look to make sure she wasn't leaving anything behind. The cubby was completely empty.

She flipped the luggage upright and extended the handle to roll it to the door. The wheels clacked on the stone floor, and Buffy turned to look around one last time. Living in a castle had been fun, but a change in scenery would do her good.

With that final look, Buffy opened the door and left.

fin