"Then, one morning I was heading back to my flat, and there he was. I tried to walk away, but he wouldn't let me. I listened to him trying to convince me he loved me. Then he asked me to kiss him."

She looked into Buffy's eyes and continued. "It was a bet, you see. If I kissed him, and didn't feel anything, he would leave. God, I was scared. It's almost funny to think about it now. I wasn't scared of him. My fear was of myself. I already knew I cared about him. It's why I tried to avoid him." Sam fingered her wedding ring. "I lost the bet, I'm sure you guessed. After that, it was a matter of trying to keep our relationship a secret.”

Sam had the look of deep concentration on her face. “I knew...or at least I thought, that Crawford would kill Ashton himself if he knew what was happening. As the months wore on, there was no doubt I was in love with Ashton, and it was killing me."

Buffy looked up at those words. This she understood. Feeling how wrong it is all of the time. Your duty, your birthright all in question because your heart won't do as it's told. Hiding it from people, even yourself for as long as you can. Then nothing makes you feel better. Not even the love.

"I was dying inside. He couldn't tell, but I knew I was. I wanted to get away. My prayers were answered when our side truly began gaining ground. So many attacks were pushing back the human enemies, and brought the first signs of hope back into so many hearts that had given up. The sightings of Demons began to lessen, and I would be going home to America soon. I could get away from him..."


Excerpt from: "Akoshta-CH 14- A Slayer's Story" by Kaylorin

Prologue

Buffy tumbled head over heels as she was pulled further into the vortex still swirling around her. She couldn't feel the barriers of the tunnel but watched the red, green and white lights change their motion as she passed through. All the while trying to keep her eyes on the tiny glowing spark traveling ahead of her. The crystal.

At first she was alone. The moment she passed into the light, she lost all connection to the vampire who'd been by her side for years now. A vampire no longer, she still sensed his presence with ease if he was near. The loss of that connection had distracted her at first, but just as she accepted it, he was there. Not beside her, but close. She knew he'd leapt in after her.

Buffy tried to will herself to pass through more quickly, but to no avail. Whatever energy was causing her to pass through, it had nothing to do with her movements or will.

"Buffy!"

It was a yelled and frantic call, but it reached her ears as a whisper.

"It's ok, Spike. I'm ok! I can still see the crystal!" she tried to call behind her. She wasn't sure if he could hear her, but it was the best she could do.

Then the tiny spark flashed as it hit the side of the vortex and was out of her sight as it was pulled through.

"No!" she screamed before being forced out through the wall as well.

The light was gone and darkness surrounded her as Buffy tumbled downward then rolled as she hit the hard wet ground. She stopped when another object impeded her tumble forward.

"Oomph," she said as her rear hit a brick wall. She rubbed the back of her head then her rump as she scanned the bricks, damp from recent rain, for the small green crystal. All at once she sensed it.

Vampires. Not far at all and heading this way. But there was something else. Or to be more precise, someone else.

Buffy spun on her knees to see a figure moving in the dark. It leaned down, and Buffy followed its movement's aim, her eyes now seeing the crystal lying in a puddle.

She pushed herself up off the ground, hoping she'd be able to find her balance before the dark form moved in for an attack.

But there was no problem. She knew as she stood that she was not permanently hurt, and this might be the easiest fight in her career.

"I can't let you have that." She took a step forward but was knocked over from behind by another dark figure.

"Oh Bloody Hell!!" Spike cursed as his back also hit the brick wall with a crack. He pushed himself from the wall only to sit in another muddy puddle.

He looked at his new position. "Not much of a landing."

Buffy, now flat on her face, jumped up as quickly as possible, but the figure was gone, along with the crystal.

She turned and looked down at the now soaking wet blonde at her feet. She placed her hands firmly on her hips. "Smooth move."

"What'd I do?" He asked offended.

Buffy pointed down the ally. "You knocked me down before I could stop whoever that was from running off with the crystal."

Spike got off the ground and began to push the dirt and muddy water off of his clothing with little luck. "Well how was I to know? Just got shoved out of that-" He turned to where they'd fallen from to see another brick wall. The vortex was gone. "Where'd it go?"

Buffy looked at the wall as well. "I don't know, but we can't leave now anyway. We need to find out who has the crystal and get it back before they use it." She gazed back down the ally to where the figure had been, then back to Spike. "And finding out where we are would be nice, too."

Spike glanced over his shoulders to where Buffy had been looking. "No time for that. We got ourselves some company."

She turned again and saw five vampires, then ten, then fifteen coming up the alley to them. “Crap.”

The leader was dirty and dressed in what seemed to be torn leftovers of a dress shirt and trousers. His companions looked no better off, all in dirty brown rags. Buffy guessed at one time they had been clothing, and, in all likelihood, in more than one color. But these vampires looked different than the kind she was used to. Dirty, hungry and unkempt

"Oh look, a welcoming committee," Buffy let the stake always hidden in her sleeve slip down her arm to her waiting grasp.

Spike pulled one from his duster's pocket and moved closer to her. Another five vampires came into view. "Buffy?"

"We can't take them. Not all of them," Buffy said in a whispered voice. "They look weak, but they're hungry. I can smell it."

The two blondes watched as they were forced to step backwards, looking for an easy way out. They were trapped, with a wall behind them. Their only route to escape was the rooftops if they could only reach them.

They had little time to contemplate the beginnings of the idea when another dark form fell from above them, dropping gracefully to the ground just a few feet ahead of them.

The longhaired gentleman looked behind him when the vampires halted their advance on the defenseless people in the alley, taking an extra long glare at the two strangers after the first. He then turned back to the menace before him.

"Ashton," The dirty leader called. "Where's your bitch? She's always fun for a little brawl."

The vampire dressed handsomely in black slacks and a deep blue sweater growled at the dirty one. "She would never engage in combat with the likes of you," he said in English with a strong Russian accent.

"Never say never." They all heard a female voice from the top of the wall the vortex had pushed Buffy and Spike out through.

She crouched low, scanning the newcomer humans behind the vampire who'd made it his job to try to protect her. She stood back up slowly, not sure what to make of the people who seemed to have been preparing to fight vampires.

"Sam," Buffy said, wide eyed.

Spike looked from his love to the woman looming overhead. "You sure, pet?"

Buffy nodded as she stared at the hem of the woman's pant leg. It had traveled upward when she’s crouched just enough to show a scar, new and still red, on her calf. "I'm sure."

"Well then." Spike said as he stepped up beside the vampire. "'D say our chances just improved."

Ashton turned his head to see the blonde man now beside him. On his other side, he felt the female.

"Five each. That should be fair." Buffy told Spike. She looked up to Sam and nodded that Spike and she could handle their load.

Sam, still unsure of who or why these visitors were, leapt down and stood beside Buffy.

The dirty vampire watched them form a line of defense then laughed. "These humans won't help you, Slay-" He stopped mid-sentence and glared at Buffy. "That's impossible."

"'S really not, mate," Spike said and lunged towards the offensive smelling vampire. Buffy flew forward, feet flying.

Ashton and Sam only waited a moment, before deciding not to question the situation and joined the battle.

~~`~~

Xander pulled up to the Summers home and into the drive. Dawn was quiet in the seat beside him, just staring at the house.

They'd all gone to Willow's and Tara's place, knowing that Dawn wouldn't want to go home without Buffy and Spike. Anya was there still, researching with the two ladies.
Xander tried to force a smile. "It's ok, Dawn. Willow and Tara are already working on how to get them back."

"And if anyone can do it, it's Willow. We already went over this, Xander. I get it, but I can still be scared." She opened the car door and got out, making sure to shut it with a little more force then necessary.

He got out as well and followed her up the steps, waiting while she unlocked the door. "Of course you can be scared. I'm just saying don't worry."

They walked in once the lock unhinged. Dawn raised her eyebrows at him. "Ok, I'll be scared, but I won't worry." She shook her head and headed up the stairs while Xander shut the door.

"Just get what you need, and I'll get you back to Tara's and Will's," Xander yelled when she took more than the five seconds he thought it should.

"Jeez. I'm a girl. I'm supposed to take forever," she yelled back at him.

He walked around the familiar family room and slumped into the chair.

He was scared. As much as he wanted to be the tough guy this time, he was freaking out on the inside. Anya could tell. Had promised him as much sex as was needed to make him feel better. He had to grin at the idea; then he remembered why he was scared.

Not knowing. It was one of those things he just hated accepting, ever since he'd met Buffy. He and Willow had become people out of some loops, but now were tied in with one that almost no one knew about.

It didn't make up for not being invited to big parties, or having girls laugh in his face during his early career as a student, but it had helped. Even now, as an adult, married and working in a job he loved, he still got to be part of the crowd. A crowd he had been in on from the beginning. And this crowd, they got things done. They would get Buffy back… and Spike.

He had to smile again, wondering at how weird it was that he was also scared for Spike.

Xander looked towards the stairs again, noting the upper level was now quiet. "Dawnie?"

"I'm almost done," she said.

He heard movement again and decided pacing was an activity worth doing. It was then that he saw a piece of paper sitting on the table by the couch, one he thought might be his, but when he looked at the warehouse order and delivery receipt, he realized what it was. Spike had missed delivery of some items. Without thinking, Xander folded the slip and put it in his pocket.

Dawn came flying down the steps just then with a suitcase and backpack holding her things. "Ok. I'm packed. Got enough stuff for a week," she said. "Just in case."

Xander again tried to force his smile. "Got your books, too?"

She nodded and slid the strap of her bag on her shoulder. Xander picked up her suitcase, and the two headed back into the night.

~~`~~

Giles stood in the hallway with Christian. "Take your time, son."

The boy stood a few feet away directly in front of a door. "It's not as hard as you may think, sir. One more moment, and I may have it." He scribbled a few words down on the notepad.

Giles turned when he heard the couple walking up behind him. He turned to see Michelle, a bag and suitcase in hand, heading towards him with Richard at her side. The young man had two suitcases and a satchel as well.

They stopped just in front of him and unloaded their burdens to the floor. Michelle looked past the Head to her friend reciting something in front of a door. "Why are we here, sir?" she asked.

Giles smiled at her. "Because I wanted you to take the quickest route."

"It's ready, Mr. Giles." Christian walked to them.

"Ah, good." Rupert directed the new arrivals to the door and began to explain. "I had Christian construct a new doorway. One that will lead you directly to Sunnydale."

Richard and Michelle both looked a bit shocked at the news.

"It wasn't hard at all. Really," Christian explained. "Just some mild adjustments to a spell that was used to bring the Watchers to this place," he said very matter-of-factly.

"That's still impressive," Richard said. "I'm sure Dawn would like to hear about it."

At the mention of the young sister of the Slayer, Christian's cheeks reddened and he turned his back, walking to his pile of bags against the opposite wall.

"Richard," Michelle chastised him lightly, "I do not think you have much room to talk when it comes to women."

They heard Christian snicker.

"Please," Giles tried to avert their attention, "You must pay attention. I swear, Buffy did more damage than good here. To you three especially." He shook his head, but still enjoyed the easy comradery among the newly formed group.

They settled down, and Richard looked at Michelle one last time before turning his attention back to their elder. "Sorry, Mr. Giles. Please, go on."

Rupert nodded. "Very well then. I have here the addresses of Xander, Willow and Buffy. You may find Anya at the magic shop. It's the last address. Have you all reviewed the layout of Sunnydale?"

They nodded simultaneously, and Richard pulled a folded map from his inside jacket pocket.

"Good." Giles gave them one more once over. He'd told them to dress down as much as possible so they could easily blend into the Sunnydale background. Gone were the tweed slacks and skirt. In their places were blue jeans. The dress shirts were gone as well, replaced with different styles of tees.

The children had these clothes; they just weren't used as often. Richard wore tennis shoes and a denim jacket. Michelle had a light blue faux- leather jacket with black boots. Christian opted for a dark blue trench coat and Docs.

"Well then, good luck." Giles handed them each a leather wrist band, much like the one's they'd seen the Slayer and the vampire wear. The stones were uncut though, just raw stones wrapped and held in place by the leather that would wrap around their wrists.

Once each was secure, Christian began the final stage of creating the door.
"Our entrance blessed, our exit granted. Our exit blessed, our entrance granted."

He looked back at his friends then opened the door. It was still night on the other side. Not early morning but night. The tombstones that lined the green grass were interrupted by a crypt here and there. One by one, Michelle, Richard and Christian picked up their luggage and gave Giles a final look and a smile, before passing through the doorway to another country.

~~`~~

Sam sat in her darkened kitchen, the kitten calendar laid out in front of her.
She'd circled the date after Buffy left months ago. Her aged mind was remembering something that happened 60 years ago. She recalled the true moment she first met Buffy Summers and a date that she'd kept in her memory since the first time she'd heard it.
Soon she would leave this place.

Like Old Times

The dust was thick in the air as the four warriors turned, punched, kicked and staked their way through the fight. Fists flew into faces; bodies were thrown around, seeming to bounce off the walls encasing the slick brick arena for the battle as it raged.

They gained ground slowly, the numbers of their enemies' troupe dwindling. Before long, all that was left were 'one-on-one' fights.

Spike spun and kicked the female backwards through the dusty atmosphere. Her body cleared a line of sight through the remains of the slain that he followed with a stake at the ready.

Sam was in full force as well, letting out short yells as she punched the last of her adversaries. She moved in for the kill.

Ashton's moves were all smooth and graceful; each punch was followed through with a kick. As though he was involved with a choreographed ballet instead of a fight to the death.

Buffy kicked sharply, disabling her opponent with the sheer force of her small feet. He pulled back to punch her, giving her the perfect moment to dust him. She watched him dissolve then turned to see Spike brushing off a sleeve, Sam sliding a stake in her waistband and Ashton staring back and forth between Spike and herself, looking as though he was solving a puzzle.

The former vampire understood the confusion of the current one. "'S'alright, mate. She's a Slayer."

The long haired vampire whipped his head around. "And yourself?"

Buffy took a step forward. "That's a little more complicated."

"How can you be a Slayer? There is but one." Samantha the Vampire Slayer asked with seriousness.

"If I had a nickel..." Buffy shook her head at her mild amusement, then took a deep breath before looking back at the girl she'd first met as an older woman, 60 years from now.

She was young, no gray interrupted the perfect black of her hair, no wrinkles marred her skin, and she moved with the agility Buffy recognized in herself. But the eyes, they were somehow different. Full of youth, but a special wisdom that Buffy was only coming to understand. It was all something special that Sam would have even in her 80's.

Sam tried to take in the newcomers. The girl was American like herself, a rarity in London, but the man was most definitely English. "Ashton, I don't understand. Have you heard of two Slayers being called before?" She turned accusingly.

The large vampire shook his head. "Never in my time."

"Won't be happenin' for awhile," Spike said before walking to Buffy. "You alright?"

Buffy nodded. "You?"

"Course. Few vampires, tossed into the Twilight Zone, I'm just grand," he said, giving her a cocky smile.

"Good," was her response along with a sideways smile before addressing the others. "Look, I know this is going to sound completely crazy, but I am a Slayer. Just like you."

"Not just like-" Spike began but received an elbow to the ribs and was silent.

Buffy continued while the raven haired couple gave them curious looks. "Normally, there is only one... Slayer, I mean, but Spike and I aren't really from... now."

"Now?" Ashton looked them over again. Their clothing was odd. Hers seemed too tight, and he wasn't sure if he'd seen that style before.

Sam noticed the same thing. The two people matched each other but nothing else.

Spike had been quieted, but Buffy was having a little trouble coming up with an explanation, so he began with the one thing any Slayer would understand. "There were vampires." He had Sam's attention immediately. "They set out to change things in the past. Our past," he said, nodding at Buffy while he spoke. "So they opened a… a doorway of sorts to here and now, to make sure some events don't happen."

"Or that one does happen," Buffy interrupted. "Remember, those vampires have that crystal now." She had honed in onto the word : ‘vampires’ and clung to what had happened, where they were… and making thing right.

"Right," Spike agreed. "We'll need to find it an' soon."

At first, Sam stood with Ashton a few inches away, but instinctively she reached out for his hand and found it waiting. "This is your past?"

"Well not mine, not personally. I mean, if you're the Slayer... then I'm not even born yet," Buffy rattled off more to herself than the woman in front of her. "What year is it anyway?"

"Not even born?" Sam looked closer at Buffy then turned to Spike. "You two haven't been born yet?"

"She didn't say that," Spike answered.

Ashton looked him over. "You are a vampire, then. I sensed… something."

"'m as human as she is." Spike motioned towards Buffy.

Ashton nodded slowly, still not understanding fully, but his years had led him to accept that he would not fully understand it all. Especially when his heightened senses told him the man in front of him was no normal man, and the woman was no average Slayer.

He may not understand, not at this moment anyway, but he might come to in time.

"Samantha, I believe they can be trusted. For now," Ashton offered.

"Gee. Thanks." Buffy rolled her eyes.

Sam had been trained from birth and understood that the unexplainable usually came with an explanation, just not one most accepted easily. Magic was evil, and vampires were myth. So most humans were lead to believe. But as the Slayer, she knew magic was often good, and vampires were more real than could be imagined.

Time travel, although a new magic to her, was in books. Her Watcher had encouraged her to read both classic and modern literature to build her imagination. He believed it was a powerful ally to a slayer in many situations. And although until this moment she only believed time travel to be myth, she had the imagination and open-mindedness to recognize conditions that could easily prove it as fact.

"I need to get back," Sam announced. "Do you have a place to stay?" she asked Buffy.

"I don't even have a change of underwear," Buffy said, then was embarrassed. "I mean, well, we weren't exactly planning on coming."

"If you like, you may stay with me tonight. Possibly we can find out who is after this crystal." Sam still looked at Buffy, unsure, but it was not everyday she would have the chance to meet one of her own.

"What about Spike?"

"Of course. You are both welcome. It's a small flat, though."

"No worries, pet. I can sleep on the floor. Slept on worse."

"You can say that again," Buffy quipped.

"Come then. The sun will be up soon." Sam walked to the exit of the alley.

"What about Ashton?" Buffy asked and turned to where the vampire had been. "Where'd he go?"

Sam turned back. "He's respecting my wishes," she looked at the ground and continued walking, "as best he can."

Buffy looked at Spike, then to the now sullen woman leading them towards a place for the night.

A few paces passed and Sam lead them. Buffy turned to Spike. "I think I know what's going on, Spike."

"Shhh...Wait till she's settled in, sleepin'." His voice was beyond the silence for human ears. “No interruptions.” He let his lashes fall in a teasing wink as she grinned and nodded, agreeing. They followed Sam out of the alley into a war-struck London.

~~`~~

Three teens walked through Sunnydale loaded down with luggage of all types. From the cemetery they had gone to Buffy Summers' home. Strangely enough, it was a short distance. On further inspection they noted her home was close to eight of the twelve graveyards used in Sunnydale.

Unfortunately, there was no answer at the door, although they did hear the phone ringing inside.

Their next stop was The Magic Box. From the stories told by Dawn, it was the second place they would meet up at in a crisis, but again, there was no life inside but a ringing phone.

According to the addresses, Xander's and Anya's apartment was next.

"These bags are getting heavy," Christian complained as he adjusted the strap on his pack for the tenth time.

"Really? I'm not tired at all," Michelle said happily. Both young men stopped and glared at her. "Oh, right." She'd forgotten her extra strength and stamina for a moment. "Sorry."

Richard started to smile, followed by Christian, and then the two men snickered.

Michelle blushed, realizing how odd it was that she'd forgotten.

"Come on. They are bound to be at one of these addresses. It's just the matter of which one," Richard said, and they continued down another street.

~~`~~

Giles sat in his office and cradled the receiver once again. He'd called the Summers home at least twenty times and the shop a good ten. No answers. He'd yet to hear from the children or any of the Sunnydale residents. And the Harris’s answering machine only clicked and beeped twice before shutting off. No message taken.

Quite frankly he was becoming quite agitated. Which meant he wasted 3 very refined shots of Scotch.

Oh Blasted!

"Blasted!" He cradled his forehead in his hands. Waiting, not knowing. He usually dealt with these things much better.

~~`~~

Buffy studied the buildings, trying to remember if any were familiar since she'd been here sixty years in the future. It was almost ghastly. As if you could see people walking out of the skeletal remains of buildings lining so many streets.

A few were still standing proud,. They were full of cement and mortar.

The Slayer was so enamored with these people. A hardship. Such a simple concept to scholars and idiots. Not to those who have had to deal . To live. Experience life as a fight toward a greatness, no matter how you wished to be anything but ‘great‘ or ‘special‘, because let‘s face it. That always ends badly.

Stepping into this place, she knew. These people held all hope to the future that she, and others, other invisible warriors, would provide. A crawling sensation dug into her skin and she squeezed her eyes shut as a terrible rumbling shook every bit of earth around.

The sky was grey, the black instant.

I had no idea. None. What happened??

Life was jumbled. Facts, jumbled.


She saw the people. Some scampering. She didn’t realize she was being drug past spot lights and patrols. Buffy was still processing. But her instincts were high. She ducked lights and enjoyed shadow, It worked.

But as they walked down streets and turned corners, she also saw many building that were struck down during bombings. The crumpled and ragged edges of fallen walls seemed out of place against the sky.

"The Blitz," she whispered, a fragment of a history class coming back to her. Debris was piled as out of the way as possible. She could make out oddly shaped lumps of broken brick and rock set against alcoves or inside the buildings themselves.

"What's that, luv?" Spike looked at her, watched her eyes move back and forth as she took in the ruins of several buildings.

"I remember this from class. The Blitz, right?" she asked.

Spike nodded. "S'right. That's the big one what did most of this."

Then they turned another corner, and the street seemed untouched. Clean and kept, like a new world. Flowers bloomed and steps were swept clean while families ate there meals and someone played a record in the distance.

As they continued they did not take notice of the others walking along the street. Many out at this hour were not the type you stopped and had discussions with.

One man, dressed in a long jacket with dark slacks poking out underneath stood quietly off to the side. Once the three reached the building converted into flats after so many had lost their homes.

He noted the newcomers and their ability to fight. More would have to be seen before he could decide what to note in the log he kept. As a rule, entries in one's Diary needed to be complete and accurate. He had kept his personal logs as such. He would have to wait until he had more information.

The training Watcher was nearly completed with his studies and would soon be inducted into the secret society, but young Quentin Travers had opted to concentrate on not one, but two specialties.

Although he would be graduating well after his other classmates, some who now had charges of their own, he was sure to one day become Head of the Council. A goal he intended to reach one day.

With practiced silence and stealth, he headed back towards the secret entrance not far from where he stood.

Sam stood aside and let her guests through the door, sans invitation. "I have a little tea left, if you'd like some before sleeping."

Buffy was about to speak, but Spike interrupted. "That's right nice of you, but we're fine."

Sam smiled and nodded as she walked past a partition and she took off her jacket. "Ok. There's a basin by the water pump and towels if you'd like to wash up then," she called from out of sight.

Buffy was yanking on Spike's arm. "Would you let go of me? Why can't I have tea?"

"Rations, woman. They have nothing right now. Even if she's getting extra for helping out a bit with the locals, it's not enough for us to go begging off of her."

Buffy stopped trying to tug away from him, an embarrassed look coming over her face. "Oh, God. I forgot."

"'S'alright. I wasn't even here then… or now, rather. Just came back seeing the damage done, then tried to find the few o' my kind that stayed behind. Never did find a vamp that survived in these parts." A respective tone obvious in his words.

Buffy listened and took off her jacket, laying it over the back of a chair. Then she looked around and decided to hang it on the hook by the door. Spike smiled, thinking she understood. Even though the Slayer of this time had little, it was kept neat.

The flat was nearly empty but for the wood table and chairs, a couch and two tables. There was a small cupboard and a pump for water near a small stove. Woodburning. A lot of this had been scavenged, and he was an expert on that. Items carefully chosen because they could be reassembled to at least moderate use.

The simple wood floor was covered by a few rugs. Some looked newer, making him wonder if the Slayer had a source of income.

Buffy had done the same perusal and ended up in the small kitchenette, or so she assumed it was, and pumped some water into the basin carefully. She grabbed one of the thin, well-used towels and began washing her face when Sam came back in.

"I see you like the rugs?" she asked Spike, who was studying one.

"Yeah. How did you...what I meant was..."

"How did I get them?" Sam asked.

Spike nodded and Buffy dried off her face while she listened.

Sam walked past and sat on the couch facing the small kitchenette. Spike walked to the table and pulled out a char, sitting on it backwards. Buffy neatly folded the towel, letting it
hang over the edge a bit to dry, and sat beside Spike.

The Slayer of her own time, Sam, wondered exactly what was known of this time. "You understand, then, what much of this war is."

Spike nodded emphatically, while Buffy nodded slowly.

"Well, I have... friends. Ones that I have helped, Ashton as well. Some are craftsmen in hiding." She pointed to a rug. "Supplies are hard to come by for them, but when one is finished, I am to keep it for trade. One of these rugs can feed a family for months, more even."

"Tell me, these people, do they know who you are?" Buffy asked.

Sam sat back in her seat. "Do many know who you are?"

"More than should, or so I've been told on numerous occasions." She said half smiling. She recalled Kendra’s first reaction to Buffy having friends, civilians, that not only knew her secret, but helped in the never-ending battle against evil.

Sam nodded. "I find that most people, if they believe in what we fight, figure it out on their own. I suspect they know that I am not fighting the same war but that we are on the same side."

"Would they know who wanted the crystal?" Spike asked.

Sam shook her head. "For that we would need to go to the other underground." She looked back at her visitors. "And you would need a change of clothing."

Spike looked at Buffy, while Buffy looked him over.

"We don't exactly blend in with… well, here," the blonde Slayer decided.

"I have some things Buffy can use, but nothing of Ashton's would ever fit you."

"Reminds me of Peaches, he does. All large and brooding." Spike laughed. Then saw Buffy was less than amused, and sobered quickly. "Right then." He paused and reached inside each of his pockets, trying to find something worth trading. Buffy began to do the same thing.

"Your ring." Sam pointed to Buffy's finger.

Buffy held out her hand. On it were two rings, both from her mother. One, she had received on her thirteenth birthday; another was one she'd gotten for Christmas the year Faith had first come. "I... I can't."

"S'alright. I have these." Spike pulled out a felt bag and reached inside. After a bit of jingling, he pulled out a gold ring lined with tiny diamonds all around. It was a thick men's ring.

"Where did you get that?" Buffy had to ask.

"Had it for years."

She crossed her arms and glowered at him. "I didn't ask you how long you've had it."

Sam watched the two bicker easily with each other.

"Ah, ah, ah, you're forgetting your rules, Slayer." Spike waggled his fingers at her like she was a child.

"Fine," Buffy decided.

Spike handed the ring to the dark haired Slayer. "What you don't use for fetching clothes, use for those families you told us about."

Buffy glared at him.

"What?"

"You have more."

"True, but do you know how long we'll be here? How much of this we may need to survive?"

Again, he was right. "Ok, I got it. I just want to figure this out and get home."

"I know." He could sympathies on every level.

"Don't worry. I'll find out what I can, but I'll need more details about the crystal." Sam explained.

Buffy understood, and they spent some time going over what they could about the crystal. Uses they knew of and the powers it held. Before long, the sun was fully up, and they needed to get some sleep. The rugs provided some comfort, and the few blankets Sam had helped as well.

She had little more to offer; even her own bed was just a pallet on the floor.

Later that day, they would hopefully be on their way to figuring out what to do.

~~`~~

Dawn was asleep, head down on the table as Willow typed away on her laptop. Tara was going over the diaries one last time, just to be sure nothing was overlooked. Anya and Xander were lying on the floor with other books open around them, but they were long gone into the world of the unconscious.

A knock came from their front door.

Tara looked to the door, then to Willow. "Who could that be?"

Willow shrugged. "Would Buffy knock in this situation?"

Tara got up and went to the door as she tossed, "Spike wouldn't." Over her shoulder.

She opened it to see Michelle, Richard and Christian. A sudden look of confusion came to the sweet witch‘s face. "Uh, Willow?"

Michelle smiled. "Hello. Mr. Giles sent us."

Willow came up behind Tara and saw the waiting children. "Michelle! Richard! Christian! What are you doing here, not that you can't visit, but what are you doing here?"

"I believe you may want to ring Mr. Giles. He could explain it." Richard suggested.

Willow blanched. "Oh God! Giles!" She yelped and spun to Tara. "We didn't call Giles and tell him what happened. They need to find the next Slayer, and the funeral... oh Goddess, all we have are ashes." Willow rambled.

"It's ok, honey. Giles will understand." Tara soothed the now frantic redhead, rubbing her back gently.

"Ashes?" the three kids asked in unison.

The ladies looked back, then realized they were in the hall still waiting to be invited. They stepped back to allow the children gain entrance.

Tara waited and realized the children were waiting for the words. "Sorry, we don't actually invite people in."

"Yeah," Willow nodded. "If you can, you know what to do. If you can't, well..."
Richard smiled. "I understand. Quite ingenious. Saves time on disinvites as well."

"Yup," Willow agreed.

"Now, what was that about ashes?" Michelle asked as they entered, luggage and all. The bags were set aside near the coat closet, and the noise of the newcomers slowly roused the sleeping Scoobies. Anya smiled sleepily at the group.

"Xander. Get up." She called gently.

"Faith," Tara began. "She was… burned."

Christian looked back at Richard. "So it was the other one."

Richard nodded. "We need to contact Giles. He'll want to know."

"Michelle?" Dawn asked from the table as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Oh my God! Michelle!" She squealed and jumped out of her seat. "And Richard... and... and Christian, too? Wait, why are you guys here?"

The three looked from each other to the only others fully awake. Anya was currently trying to get Xander to wake up.

"We knew the Slayer had died," Richard said, looking back at Michelle.

"How?" Willow asked.

"Because," Michelle tried her best to hold her head high, "I was next."

Pieces

They'd settled down for the night, though outside it was morning. That was more than an hour ago, but neither came close to sleeping. Buffy's mind wandered back to what she could remember in Sam's Diary. Exactly where they were and why this was when everything would change. Or could change.

She tried to explain to Spike what little she was sure of. Not the date, but what she knew of the other Slayer.

"No, they were together." Buffy laid with her head pillowed by his shoulder as she curled into his side. "But she felt… well, like I did about you. Wrong. Dying." She sighed, not wanting to bring back bad feelings. "You can't imagine the pressure I put on myself. I know how she feels, I remember, but the situation is so...it's different."

Spike stared up at the plaster ceiling. "But they figure it out. They'll be fine," he assured her.

Buffy couldn't let it go, though. "I'm not sure. I can't be, not when this is the time we end up in. I was trying to remember what Sam told me. She explained most of it, but I don't remember what she said made her decide that being with him was ok."

Spike rolled over and propped himself up on an elbow. "Why does she need permission? Maybe she just decided it 'erself."

"Because, like I said, I know how she feels. I needed someone to let me know it was alright, to be with you. The Big Bad Bane of my existence." She nudged his side forcing him to lie back down and pulled herself into the crook of his neck, letting him hold her again. "And I wasn't raised to be a Slayer; she was. It had to be even worse for her."

"So what do you think? We should give them a stern talking to? Let them know what will happen?"

She laid her arm across his chest and listened to the rhythm of a heart that had not beat for more than a century. "I don't think telling them is good, but maybe… letting them know more about ourselves?"

"Wouldn't suggest that, either. Remember, I saw her before," Spike reminded her.

"Well I saw her, too. I mean, it was only a few months ago." She whipped her head to the side suddenly. "Wait, if I saw her then, in the future, did she know I was going to be meeting her here, now?"

He turned his head to face her again. "If she did, then at least we know we did alright. I mean it would mean we've done this, or at least it happened all before." He shook his head. All of this present, past tense happening in the future talk was starting to make his eyes cross.

Talking to Sam had been more than a good memory for Buffy; it was a turning point in a lot of her thinking. But if she already knew about Spike then, then why was she surprised? Or was she shocked by something else?

"I don't remember her saying anything like, 'Oh yeah, I remember you,' or anything. She shared the Diary, showed me her battle scars, and of course told me about Ashton."

"Battle scars?" Spike asked.

"Yeah, the scar on her leg. She said it was an apocalypse. One of the later ones. Ashton took care of her and made sure she got well. It was bad, she said. She lost a lot of blood."

Spike's brow went up. "And he didn't...?"

She looked at him for a second before she understood the unfinished question. "Eew. No." She paused. "Well, I don't think so, anyway. She didn't say," Buffy had to admit. "Isn't that personal or something?"

He chuckled. "I s'pose."

Buffy laid her head back down. "That scar, though, it was how I knew it was Sam so quick, not that a lot of girls go leaping off of buildings."

"Might 'ave been a clue." He liked it when she thought things out with him.

Buffy often took herself to be not all that smart. It wasn't true. She's had less schooling than she'd have liked, and apparently had not been the best student, but she was very intelligent. Given the right clues and a bit of time, she could figure most things out with a little mulling around.

"What about the crystal, luv?"

The Slayer's mind went back to the reason she knew they were there. "We still couldn't find a reference to it in the Diary. We're going to have to depend on what we can find here. Do you remember any of your old buddies from now?"

"Can't say's I do. Most scattered when the bombs started dropping. Can't have one's home blow its top off an' have a bright sunny day shining on you during a nap." He grinned now at the thought. "Make one hell of a wake up call."

Buffy yawned wide as sunlight filtered through the only window in the flat on the wall over the water pump.

"Sleep now. Solve mysteries and kill demons later," she mumbled.

Spike curled his arms around her tighter and let sleep take him as well. Soon the couple was fast asleep.

Past the blue curtain that acted as a partition, giving the sleeping area more privacy, Sam laid awake. She'd remained silent for a half an hour before she remembered what Ashton had said about the man. He had sensed something vampiric in him.

She knew the two were not sleeping, but perhaps they would not talk until they were sure she was. So she used techniques taught to her years ago, and practiced often in her life, slowing her breathing and heartbeat, hoping he would think she had fallen asleep.
It worked well enough.

When the two finally did speak, she found it very difficult to keep her concentration, but they didn't seem to notice her heart race for mere moments as her life was spoken of.

Eavesdropping would not have been her first choice in getting information, but she had to know what was going on. Acting calm about a situation was one thing. Actually being calm was another. Not knowing the strangers sleeping in her home was unsettling to say the least.

Over the years she had learned to trust Ashton's instincts, and so in her home they were. The blondes were not here to hurt her. That much she did know.

They were here, as they said, to get a crystal and stop it from being used. But they also knew things, things no one but she and her vampire lover knew. Somehow, they knew what she had fought to hide.

Now, with a twisting in her stomach, she tried to sleep, feeling somehow that these people were important.

~~`~~

Dawn sat at the table with Tara, Michelle and Richard while Xander, Anya and Christian filled the seats in the family room. They exchanged information concerning the events of the last few hours. Willow spoke to Giles on the phone, updating him as well.

"But where could they have gone?" Michelle asked.

Tara took a sip of the tea she'd made for them all. "We can't be sure, but considering the state the sisters were in, we'd guessed sometime that would change the prophecies. I thought maybe when Sam and Ashton met."

"And have you figured out how to get them back" Christian looked at her seriously from across the room.

"Well we know how," Dawn looked back at Tara, then to Michelle. "But we'd need to know when they should come back."

"I don't follow," Richard stated, shaking his head.

"It's like this," Xander said from his place on the couch next to Anya. "We know that Quentin wants to change the past. The crystal itself might be all that's needed to do it."

"Right," Richard began to understand. "You don't want to impede her mission by pulling them back too soon."

Tara, Xander and Dawn all smiled, nodding.

Willow hung up the phone. "Giles is having a vigil for Faith at the Council's Headquarters. He said for us to do what we think she would like with her remains." She eyed the black ceramic urn with brightly colored flowers hand painted around its base.

Tara smiled at her mate. "I think we should keep her, h-here I mean." She watched Willow's face for a reaction.

"Why, sweetie?"

Tara looked at her hands resting in her lap. "Because she wanted to belong." She looked back at the faces of the Scoobies. They gave her understanding smiles and mournful nods.

"Ok," Willow said. "We'll keep her here. If you like, we can have a small ceremony, to say goodbye."

Tara nodded and smiled. "I think she'd like that."

"What about them?" Dawn motioned to their visitors. "I mean, where will they be staying?"

"We do not wish to be trouble," Michelle began.

"Well, Tara and I could move back into the house, at least until Buffy gets back. Dawn and Michelle can share her room."

"Why don't we just share the room here?" Dawn asked. It's just as big, and the trundle under the bed would be perfect."

"What about Richard and Christian?" Anya asked.

"Why don't they stay at the house?" Dawn said. "I'm sure Buffy would understand."

Xander shook his head. "She would. But I think there was some work Spike was going to have done." He looked directly at Dawn. "Something for your ears’ comfort, if I understood correctly." He gave Dawn a look.

Dawn's eyes widened. "Oh."

"It really is not a problem. If Michelle would be more comfortable here, that seems very good. But we have an allowance for accommodations. I'm sure we can find a suitable hotel." Richard looked over at Christian who nodded in agreement.

"Oh, The Wild Winds is just a few blocks away," Willow offered. "I hear it's nice and not very expensive."

"That should work out nicely," Richard agreed with a smile.

Christian watched the redhead and blonde who lived in this place. "There was something else."

"What was that?" Dawn asked him as she turned in her seat.

"Mr. Giles. He asked that I spend time learning what I could from you." He tore his eyes from Dawn to Tara, then to Willow. "The elders of my craft, of spell casting, thought you two would be able to help me."

Willow looked nervously from the dark haired young man to Tara. "I don't know how much I can," she looked back at him. "Tara is very good, though. She was raised on the craft."

Tara understood her lover's discomfort. "We'd be happy to help however we can, but for now, I think we should try to get some sleep."

"Yeah. I can drop you boys at the hotel on our way back," Xander said as he helped Anya to her feet.

Soon the apartment was emptying of its tired occupants, leaving a Slayer, a Key, a witch and a hacker to rest up for the next day.

After Xander dropped them off, Richard and Christian found they could afford two rooms and settled in for the night as well.

~~`~~

Spike rolled over to find the place next to him empty.

"Buffy?" He sat up and looked around the small room, now lit up with the mid-afternoon sun. He found her leaning over a tin pan, pushing its contents around with a spoon. "What you got there, luv?"

Buffy's sullen face perked up when she looked at him, now standing and stretching. "I think the technical term would be mash. Or maybe mush." She scooped up a spoonful and ate it with trepidation. "Maybe gruel," she said, her mouth still full, then swallowed and took a long drink of water.

He couldn't help but smile when she began to make a face he thought she only made when hard liquor was involved. "Better eat up."

"I know, I know. The food is hard to come by," she said and scooped another mouthful of cooked grain into her mouth. "It's not all that bad, just..."

"Different?" He went behind her to the stove and scooped up some of the concoction for himself into another tin.

"Yeah." Buffy took another long drink of water.

"S'how I felt about peanut butter for the longest time," he confessed and sat across from her with a glass of water as well.

She swallowed hard. “But you ate that even before loosing the bumpies.“

“I said it took time, didn’t say what time.“ He gave her a wink.

They ate quickly, happy to be full. Then they set about to clean up the kitchen, careful to save what they could of the cooked grains.

"Where is Sam this morning?" Spike finally asked.

Buffy wiped the basin and counter clean. "I don't know. She was gone when I got up. The pot was on the stove and the plates, or are they bowls?"

"Bit of both."

"Oh. Well, they were set beside with utensils and the cups, so I ate. But I haven't seen her." She set the towel aside and stacked the dishes with the others after she was sure they were dry.

Spike went to work on their make shift bed, folding the blankets and straightening the carpets. Soon the rooms were clean and neat.

The door opened and Sam came in with several packages staked one on top of the other. "Hello?"

Buffy hopped across the room and helped her sister Slayer with the burdens she carried. "Wow. Are these all for Spike?" she asked a little confused. If things were so hard, how could she afford all of this waste?

Sam laughed. "No. These three are for you."

Buffy took the brown paper wrapped packages, secured with twine. "Me? But I can just borrow some things. I don't need these."

Spike walked over and watched as she undid the twine, unwrapping her surprise, and nearly fell over with laughter at the look on her face.

"Garters?" Buffy held them up, trying to figure out exactly when Spike had made this request of Sam, and exactly how hard she should hit him later.

"Yes. I noticed last evening you had only the... socks." Sam was proud she'd gotten such a good price for the ring, and thought that along with the donations she would be making to others later, she should try to outfit Buffy as well as she could for her stay.

Buffy set it back in the package and saw the stockings that went with them. She carefully set it aside and wondered what could possibly be in the next package. She was relieved to find what passed as underwear and two slips in the next one, along with, what couldn't be called a bra, but a 'foundation garment'. She quickly wrapped it again and moved on to the next, and largest of the packages. Inside were two pairs of slacks, a skirts, and she counted two simple blouses.

Spike was awestruck. What Buffy was holding in her hands had to be worth more than a year's clothing rations.

"And yours, Spike," she said, still uncomfortable with the name, and handed him three packages as well. They were a bit bulkier. She had gotten him three pairs of dark slacks, a jacket, three dress shirts, a belt along with men's socks and underwear, as well as a hat that matched the jacket.

"If you'd like overcoats, I'm afraid it will be a bit more." She watched as the two went through their new clothing. "They've been harder to come by lately."

Buffy shook her head. "This is too much."

"Nonsense," Sam disagreed. "You have more than provided for others with his gift." She looked out the window. "But if you want to look for your crystal, you'll need to be able to move freely in the city, and you can't do that in what you are wearing."

Buffy folded her things carefully. "Well, thank you then, Sam. I hope we can help you while we are here."

Sam took the opening, hoping to gain more from direct conversation than she could eavesdropping. "Help me with what exactly?"

Buffy looked back at Spike. "Well, we can fight. Help you kill the vampires at the very least."

"S'right. Consider us at your beck and call for fighting the evils." Spike nodded. "Get a bit antsy without a good fight anyway," he joked.

"Alright, but usually vampires aren't the biggest problem," Sam conceded. "First get changed. I'd like to show you two something."

Spike went first behind the partition and came out a few minutes later dressed sharply in a dark blue jacket and slacks. His boots didn't exactly set off the outfit, but they were black and mostly hidden under his slacks. In all likelihood, they would just be mistaken for dress shoes.

Buffy giggled a little at him, but Spike seemed unfazed by it. He only watched her walk out of sight with her clothing in hand.

Sam set about rewrapping the packages, separating items into piles apparently for separate people. Spike set himself on the couch, waiting for Buffy to call for him. He was sure the older version of women's undergarments would give her some trouble.

Instead, a little while later, she stepped out wearing a skirt and blouse and spun to show off her now outfit.

Spike could tell she wore all of the vintage clothing and wore it quite well. "There's something to be said for clothing that leaves the imagination open," he said as he studied the line going up the back of her legs and disappearing under her skirt. "Always liked those."

"Well, it'll take some getting used to," Buffy said as she adjusted the seam, putting Spike in a light trance while following her fingers with his eyes as she lifted her skirt a bit. She then turned with her back to him. "I never thought I'd have to ask this, but are my seams straight?" She looked at him over her shoulder.

Spike was still staring at her, with his head tilted to the side.

"Spike!" she yelped.

"Wha- What?" He sat up.

"They're fine," Sam answered as she tied the last package and smiled. "Now come on. I could use a hand."

The three of them walked out of the apartment weighed down with several packages each, and went down five flights of stairs. But instead of going outside, Sam turned and went down a back hall that led, not to apartments, but to a large dining area.

Buffy and Spike stood at the entrance while Sam continued inside.

The room was not just a room, but a full scale eatery. Benches and tables were set up in two long rows. It reminded Buffy of her grammar school cafeteria, but on a smaller scale.

Along the front wall, right beside a door, was a long table with what was left of a buffet. Only scraps of bread were left, but the other serving dishes had remnants of the mash Buffy and Spike had had that day and some other dishes with vegetables.

Spike exchanged a look with Buffy before they crossed the threshold and caught up with Sam.

"Samantha." An older woman with graying brown hair and a round waist walked out of the doorway by the long table, smiling and wiping her hands off on her apron. "You're a bit late my dear."

The woman shared her open smile with the strangers before turning back to Sam. "I see you found help today." She took a few of the packages from the young lady and led her back into the large cooking area hidden behind the door.

Sam shook her head. "No, Mrs. Walsh. They are here on some business."

"Ah. I see." Her smile faded. "And what kind of business would you have with us?"

"No," Sam reassured. "Not that type. MY type."

The woman's face filled with wonder and amusement. "I see. You must not frighten an old woman like that." She looked back to the strangers. "Well, come along then."

She walked back into a pantry, past the counters littered with sliced vegetables, bits of flour and canisters filled with other ingredients.

The pantry itself contained few items, and the blondes assumed they were here to help stock it. But the woman surprised them when she pulled back the aprons hanging on the wall in the back before pushing it forward. The wall then slid back like a door, revealing a stairwell.

Mrs. Walsh went down first, then Sam.

Both Buffy and Spike looked in the darkness before going in as well.

Trade Off

Quentin shuffled his notes haphazardly as he stumbled clumsily through the halls of the Headquarters of the Council of Watchers. The halls he had known as home his entire life.

He passed familiar faces of instructors and acquaintances, nodding politely as he walked by. He had no true friends. He had peers and work mates, but no one he would call a friend. All but the Head of the Council, Mr. Edward Crane. It was he whom Quentin was on his way to see.

He made his way through the halls past the faces of slayers gone by, then Watchers, and soon found himself at the Head's door. The secretary outside gave Quentin a nod, before motioning him to go in. He carefully straightened his jacket before entering.

"Mr. Crane, sir?" he said to the chair turned with its back to him, then shut the door behind himself.

The chair slowly turned around revealing an older man, thin, but obviously tall. His moustache and beard were full and neatly kept. Unlike most of the men and women that walked this hidden world beneath the streets of London, he had perfect vision and required no spectacles. "Please, come in." The man of power within these walls held out a hand indicating one of the simple wood chairs facing the desk.

"Thank you, sir." Quentin ran his fingers through his brown hair nervously as he approached the seats and settled into the one on the left. He took in the familiar surroundings of the nearly empty office, save the desk, chair and a large painting on the wall behind the desk.

Edward sat up in his seat and laced his fingers while he leaned on the desk. "Tell me, son, what have you discovered of our Slayer and her vampire?"

Quentin opened the folder that contained that which he was prepared to share. "Well, it seems she has pushed him away, but he still intervenes on occasion. They leave the battles separately, and I have yet to see any way arranged meetings could be accomplished."

The thin man nodded at his apprentice's news. "And the humans the vampire keeps company with?"

Quentin turned past some of his notes then settled on a new page. "Yes. Mr. Michael Cravats. He still keeps. In fact, makes a point to visit the pub he and his.." there was a notable pause, "His wife run."

"I see." Mr. Crane settled back into his chair. "These mixings are why our Slayer's morals were compromised in the first place."

Quentin nodded. "Yes, sir."

"They should know their place," The Head continued. "How many centuries have we tried to keep a relationship with the less dangerous? We focus on vampires, demon sciences and biology, castings, prophecy." He looked at the young man sitting across from him hanging on his every word. "And, Quentin, we depend on our children to follow our teachings."

Young Mr. Travers sat up straight in his seat. "Yes, sir. I understand."

Edward clapped his hands once and sat back up. "Good, my boy. Now report any new findings to Mr. Emerson. He needs to be kept apprised of his charge's progress away from her deviant ways." He sighed. "With any luck, we will not have to kill her until her sixth year."

Quentin nodded and stood. "I will be going out again this evening."

"So soon?"

Quentin closed his folder carefully. "Yes, the upcoming apocalypse may provide more information on what the vampire is willing to do. She will be preparing soon."

The Head nodded. "Very well. Be sure to report any new findings."

"Of course, Sir." Quentin exited the office he hoped would someday be his with a new enthusiasm. Of course he had left out the information on the new arrivals, but until he had something to report it would be a waste of time to share.

~~`~~

Tara flipped through the papers, making sure she had everything she would need, then looked at Michelle. "You're positive?"

"Of course. Mr. Giles thought it would be best."

Willow sat at the table with Dawn, Michelle and Tara. The redhead spoke on the phone quickly. "Yes, I understand it is very short notice, but it was all very sudden. All of her paperwork and records are in order, though, and she is anxious to begin soon." There was a pause.

"I can't believe you WANT to do this. I mean, you do know it's not like The Council. Right?" Dawn tried to explain to the newcomer, hoping to save her from the blinding torture.

"Yes, Ms. Maclay will be bringing her down this morning." Willow nodded happily. "Really?! Great. Thank you." Willow pressed the off button on the cordless. "Ok, you're all set. Just go to the office, and let Tara fill out the guardian stuff."

Willow turned to a paper in Michelle's official school records and handed it to Tara. Only slightly forged to hide where she'd truly been educated previously. "Make sure you give them this, too. It's the paperwork transferring her guardianship to us while she's here."

Dawn picked up the paper. "Giles really set you up to stick around, didn't he?"

Michelle shrugged. "I am the Slayer. This is the Hellmouth."

"True," Dawn agreed. "But when Buffy gets back, you may have to work out a patrolling schedule. She's kinda territorial. I remember this blue sweater I borrowed once. There was just one little stain and she went completely bal-"

"Dawn," Willow interrupted. Dawn turned her head abruptly. "School?" The redhead reminded her.

"Sorry." Dawn took one last bite of her cereal and the two young ladies cleared the table.

Tara gathered the paperwork and placed it in her satchel. "I'll meet you before Post Modern Art, ok?" she asked Willow.

"Ok." She smiled and gave Tara a quick kiss before the three ladies walked out, Dawn still trying to warn Michelle of all the horrors of high school.

Willow stifled a giggle and picked up a few books she'd wanted to take over to the magic shop with her. Some more research was needed.

The night before, she'd asked Giles to see if he could find more on Samantha, and what Buffy and Spike might be there to change, or what the crystal would have been used for then.

He was worried about the blonde pair but confident. Willow was familiar with his attitude on Buffy. If something needed to be done, she would find a way to get it done.
The question was, what was IT? And when was IT?

~~`~~

The air turned thicker as they went down the steps in single file, Mrs. Walsh leading with Sam, Buffy and Spike following. Soon the steps stopped, and a large basement filled their vision.

Buffy turned her head as she scanned the rooms that made up the lowest level of the building. "What is all this?" she asked when her vision revealed desks, chairs, bookcases, couches, dressers, beds and knick-knacks of every shape and size. There were chandeliers and boxes like the one at her home that held the good silver her mom had cherished. There were several chests, like the one she kept her weapons in, and other items throughout.

Mrs. Walsh walked down the main hall that the rooms opened up to. "These are the treasures my ladies saved."

"Your ladies?" Spike asked as he eyed the rooms as well.

"Well, not all of them are ladies. I opened up to the elder men as well, but this is where they store what their rooms cannot. Things they scavenged from their homes after the bombing."

Buffy kept walking, listening while Mrs. Walsh explained that after her husband died, she took over this property and was in the process of converting it all into a women's dorm.

Then the Blitz came and drastic measures had to be taken. Many of the would-be apartments began filling with refugees that lost their homes, families and husbands.

The people worked together, helping to convert each apartment into a useable space. "It's why many of the apartments have very little indoor plumbing," Mrs. Walsh finished.

"The pump?" Buffy asked.

"Yes. Ms. Samantha was quite kind in taking the one room we have yet to fit with proper facilities." Mrs. Walsh beamed and came to the only door other than the exit in the basement. She opened it and all four of them felt a cool breeze filter by. "Well, come on in. It's not the chill of death you feel. It's only the cellar."

Sam smiled back at the couple before going in with her parcels. Spike and Buffy walked in as well, and Mrs. Walsh closed the door behind her when she passed into the room.

Buffy scanned the shelves, stocked much better than the pantry on the upper level. Spike took note of the meat, vegetables and grains all stored low in the ground in the hopes it would not be tainted by age or warmth before it could all be used. Nothing could be wasted.

Sam set her packages on the ground and waited for Buffy and Spike to do the same. "We need to make some care packages," she tried to explain.

Buffy and Spike weren't sure what was going on. After all, Sam had just rearranged her packages upstairs, but they did as she did, and watched Mr. Walsh walk to the other side of the room and pull open some cloth bags. "First on our list is Mrs. Hallstead. That baby of hers is due any day. No time for her to miss meals to feed the others in that brood of hers."

Sam laughed lightly and went to the shelves picking out carrots and lettuce along with small bags of grains. "I also found some cloth for diapers and some baby clothes," Sam stated proudly.

Mrs. Walsh held the bag. "Well set them in here then, dear. No baby in England will go with out clothing." She smiled at the blondes who simply watched from the ground as the experienced ladies prepared a care package. "Not if we have anything to say about it," she winked.

Some time passed and, before either the Slayer or the former vampire knew it, they had more than a dozen packages for local residents in need.

Sam gathered up four of the cloth bags. "You asked what you could do." She looked at Buffy.

Buffy nodded.

"Well this is part of it. Mrs. Walsh and I do this nearly every day, and she lets me stay here rent free."

"These old bones don't get around so well anymore," the plump woman explained. "Samantha also has the ability, it seems, to get whatever it is we are in need of." Her eyes popped open. "Which reminds me, I nearly forgot." She turned and pushed some of the baskets and bags used to carry the packages aside to reveal two large jars filled with what looked like blood. "These are for your young man."

Sam's eyes flew open, and she began to shake just slightly. She knew the couple behind her knew that she and Ashton had something, a connection, and that he was a vampire. They had all but said so that morning while she feigned sleep, but somewhere inside, she knew it should be hidden. All of it.

She quickly reached out. "Thank you. I'll be sure he gets it."

Mrs. Walsh seemed not to notice Sam's sudden discomfort. "I don't understand why you don't bring him around more often. He's so polite."

"He's been very busy." Sam tried to brush the subject off. "We need to get going. My friends here need to get some information tonight."

"Oh, of course." Mrs. Walsh picked up another bag and gathered items off the shelves. "I understand, dear. Business must be done. It's almost time to prepare the evening's meal. When my girls finish at the factory, I would swear they put any man to shame when it comes to appetite."

Sam grinned. "We'll be back tomorrow. Have a good evening." She led Spike and Buffy back out of the door.

"And good luck to you," the old woman called after them then turned to her selection of meats. Not much to choose from, but enough to make something tasty.

~~`~~

The bell overhead rang as Richard and Christian came through the door of the magic shop. Each took quick appraisal of the items surrounding them. Christian was the first to descend the steps.

"This is amazing," he proclaimed while walking to a shelf filled with tiny crystals, statues and small bottles of herbs. "To have all of this at hand, it must be very convenient."

Anya watched Christian from the loft as he fingered the items. "Well, this is a magic shop. It's most beneficial to keep a large quantity of the more frequently used items." She backed down the ladder. "In most cases, the crystals are used as paper weights."

"Paper weights?" Richard followed his friend to the shelf.

Anya nodded and came to the two gentlemen. "I once heard Giles used an Orb of Thessulla for the very same thing."

Both boys looked at her, unbelieving.

"Well, ask Xander. I think he and Willow… maybe Buffy, too, were there. It had to do with Angel and his soul."

"Oh yes, I do recall that in lessons," Richard agreed. "A Gypsy woman died trying to restore Angelus's soul."

Anya shook her head. "No. She translated the spell, but she never got to try it. Willow did it." Anya looked past them, trying to remember what she'd been told. "But Buffy had to send him to Hell anyway. Not at all a fun place to visit, let me tell you."

Christian frowned at the thought. Angelus was a terror, but Angel, he had learned, was one of the good guys.

Richard looked from the ex-demon to the crystals. "Tell me, do you have a crystal like the one used by the vampires to entrap Buffy and Spike?"

Anya nodded and walked back to the counter with Richard and Christian following. "We decided to keep the supplies that might mimic the crystal, but out of the average Joe's reach." She disappeared behind the counter while she looked for the hidden treasures. "Unfortunately, I don't think we'll be able to use them ourselves."

She came back up with one of the small box containing the supplies in her hand.

"But this would act as the type used?" Christian asked and took the container from her, studying its content.

"That's right," Anya confirmed.

Richard removed his glasses and began chewing on the end of one of the rounded wires that held onto his ears. "It's perplexing. Why would the vampires intend to go back and have no way to return?"

Anya shrugged. "They're immortal. Maybe they thought they'd just wait till it was now again."

The bell rang on the door and they all turned to see Willow come in. "Hey guys. Did you get nice rooms?" she asked and walked to the research table.

"They are quite suitable," Richard said and walked over to her. "Why are you here so early? I was lead to understand you had classes. University?"

Willow opened her pack and began setting up her laptop, books and notes. "I do, but my first class isn't until this afternoon."

"They were just asking about the crystal," Anya supplied.

"Oh." Willow smiled. "Good, because I'm going to need all the help I can get."

Christian pulled out a chair. "That is why we are here."

Richard joined them, and soon all three were researching while Anya attended to the random customers that walked in.

~~`~~

Sam knocked on the door again. "Mr. Raymond? It's Samantha." She turned to the impatient blondes standing behind her on the stoop. "He's a bit paranoid. It usually takes him at least five tries before he-"

The door swung open. "Samantha. I was afraid it wouldn't be you this time."

Sam smiled and walked in when the door was opened wide. "It is. And I brought some fellow agents to help us today."

The old man with a very bald head and wire frames outlining his eyes looked Buffy and Spike over carefully. "If Sam says you're safe, then you are welcome in my home," he said, not so convincingly.

The house was scantly furnished. One wall was obviously rebuilt. It lacked the paint and care taken to decorate the home. Several shelves were empty and only two chairs were available in the sitting room. Much of the other walls were scorched, revealing the supports under the plaster.

"Mrs. Raymond is out just now. I'm sure she'll be upset having missed your visit again." Mr. Raymond shuffled into the sitting room. "Why don't you ladies take a seat while the young man and I gather refreshments?" He motioned towards the chairs that, at some point had been beautiful, but were now ratty and torn from some unnamed disaster.

Spike looked to Sam, who nodded.

"Right then," He smiled at the elderly man and set down the two bags left from their rounds to the locals. "Be right back." And he followed Mr. Raymond into the kitchen.

He watched as the old man set up a silver tea service and filled the kettle with water. He then set squares of bread along the edge. "It's difficult now, isn't it?"

Spike tipped his head at the man trying to follow an etiquette taught him long ago. "S'pose it is."

The old man backed away from the silver. "Would you mind? In my state, I do believe the tea would find its way to my floor before it made it to the young ladies."

Spike smiled and stepped up, taking the service in hand before walking back out to the sitting room, where Buffy and Sam waited.

Buffy had just found out where the carpets came from. The floors were lined with them.

"So, Samantha, what have you brought us today?" he asked while Sam took one of the water filled tea cups.

Buffy leaned down and opened up the bag she knew was for this home and began pulling out bottled dyes along with thick thread and yarns.

After they'd taken a carpet in trade, they said their goodbyes to the old man. "And, Miss Samantha?"

She turned halfway down the stoop behind Spike and Buffy to see the old man smile. "We will miss you."

Sam nodded politely. "Thank you. The feeling is quite mutual."

Sam took the last few steps and joined her visitors. "That's the last one for tonight."

Spike looked at the bag holding two jars of blood. "So it's off to see Ashton now then?"

Sam nodded. "And maybe get a few questions answered." She looked over her shoulder. "For all of us."

Buffy gave her a curious look while she walked beside her down the dark streets of London. "All of us?"

Sam smiled then frowned. "Yes. I still have a problem of my own to solve."

Buffy nodded knowingly. "I understand."

"If anyone would, it would be you. And I still have no idea how to prevent it." Sam pulled her jacket around her more tightly. "If I can't, then we are all doomed, war or not."

Both Buffy and Spike exchanged a look before the blonde Slayer asked. "What are you talking about?"

Sam stopped walking and turned to both of them. "The talisman." The looks on their face told her. "You have no idea what I'm talking about?"

They shook their heads.

"I thought… My watcher had me study the battles fought by other slayers, and you seemed to know us." She was lost. "Tomar? You have heard of Tomar?"

Spike's eyes widened. "Shit."

"What's a Tomar?" Buffy looked between her companions for an answer.

Spike pulled his gaze from the dark haired Slayer to his love. "It's… a clan. Or an order would maybe be a more accurate description."

"An order? Oh God, not more assassins. Did I ever tell you how lame that was by the way?" She shook her head at him, feigning disappointment.

"They aren't assassins," Sam began, a bit lost by Buffy's comments, and led them down the street, passing people who were now getting off work at the numerous factories strewn throughout the city. "But Spike is correct. They are an order of sorts, with one clear goal in mind."

"Lemme guess: ending the world?" Buffy couldn't help it. What else could it be?

"Not exactly," Sam said as they turned a corner. They continued through the city, passing homes and businesses alike. "Although it could create an apocalypse."

"That's the end of the world," Buffy said flatly.

"What they wish for could bring about the end of the world, but it is not their central goal," Sam corrected.

Spike shifted the last bag he carried from one hand to the other. The blood for Ashton had been strangely considered his charge. "Have to go with Buffy on this, pet."

Samantha continued down the dimly lit streets. "Generally speaking, yes. But the Tomar don't wish to destroy the world. They wish to open it to others. Demons. They have tried unsuccessfully to open a doorway to other dimensions before, but soon they will have another opportunity to try again. If they are successful, with the state of our world, I don't think I will be able to protect the human populace."

"Again with the portals?" Buffy said, still not understanding. "Even if they can open this... portal thingy, can't you close it?" She blanched at her words then looked quickly to Spike before continuing. "Although avoiding the opening is a much better plan."

Sam slowed her steps. "Yes. As of yet, Mr. Emerson has only been able to find information on the ritual to open it, which is relevantly simple. Closing it could, however, be a problem. I'm afraid my only chance is to find someone of the order willing to give me the details on how and when to stop them from acting it out."

Buffy looked up at Spike as he walked beside her. "I thought you said there weren't any demons hanging around here. And already we've seen a gang of them, plus now… an order?"

"Said most vamps ran out and they were all gone when I got back. Didn't much care for the other demons at the time."

Sam looked back at them. "You regularly consort with other demons?"

Spike smiled. "Was one myself."

She stopped, hoping to confirm a suspicion. "A-a vampire then?"

Buffy and Spike both nodded, and the blonde Slayer figured it was time to let a bit of the cat out of the bag. "Spike was a vampire, but he-" She looked up at him, suddenly unsure of how to explain it. Spike eyed her, wondering what she'd come up with. "He didn't act like a vampire. Started killing demons and helping me." She looked back at Sam. "You know The Powers?"

Sam shook her head. "Although I do understand their control over the predestined."

"Well, they're like… deities for people like us. The not so normal. Anyway, they decided that he, or maybe me." She crinkled her brow, trying to find the words.

"Think it's more of a 'we'," Spike offered.

Buffy smiled at him and nodded. "'We' earned something, and they made him human."

Sam looked at Buffy. "That's why Ashton sensed something about him, and you?"

The couple nodded.

Sam seemed to take them in, studying the two, trying to make sense of these Powers choosing to put a Slayer with a vampire. Then to reward them for it. She herself was involved in such a thing. They had yet to mention any knowledge of this to her face. And so she remained silent, but considering whom it was she was working with, and The Powers' choice of those who have earned their lives back, she had to know. "Are The Powers evil?"

The shock of the statement was plain on Sam's sister Slayer's face just before she let out a happy laugh and shook her head. "Only sometimes." She kept up her giggles, remembering some of the 'evil' things she and Spike had done… and still did.

"Alright, Slayer. Enough with the hysterics." Spike tried to quiet her. The two were coming dangerously close to a conversation that could reveal more than it should.

"What?” She asked. Buffy pointed to Sam, still giggling. "You gotta admit, sometimes it felt evil." She waggled her eyebrows at him to which he cocked an eyebrow back at her.

Sam was fairly sure if she had an eternity she would never be able to figure out the dynamic of the strange pair.

It was then Buffy realized they'd stopped on the sidewalk but had yet to resume their pace. "Where are we going, Sam?"

"We are here." Sam pointed up at the sign hanging over the door beside them. 'The Hook and Claw' "Hand me your bag, Spike. And no talk of demons and such until you see it is clear to do so. These are humans in here."

It felt strange to be warned by another Slayer, but Buffy was ignorant to this time and place. Her only true map was Sam.

The elder Slayer opened the door and went in with the odd couple behind her.

The strangers to the pub took a moment to look over their new surroundings. There was a long bar along the wall to the right, with a collection of bottles and barrels along the wall behind it. The floor was strewn with small round tables, now partially filled with patrons.

Lamps lined the walls, giving the place a darker atmosphere, but the people seemed to be the hard working type. Dirty from their day and happy to have moments without thoughts of war, only joking and jibing with mates.

Sam strode up to the bar with confidence. This place was obviously familiar to her. She knew it well, and the people here knew her. An old man walked from a table to the bar, wiping tables as he went.

"Samantha." His eyes sparkled with glee at the sight of the young woman. "How good of you to come by this evening."

Sam smiled back and bellied up to the bar. "Mike. You know I come by every night."

He made his way behind the bar and stowed the towel out of sight. "I know, dear, but it's always good of you."

She lifted the bag and settled it carefully on the varnished surface in front of her. "Could you put my things back there for me?"

Buffy and Spike seated themselves on stools as well. Buffy beside Sam then Spike.

"Of course." Mike picked up the bag with a knowing look and set it down on the floor. Then carefully, he took the sealed jars and set them in a nook hidden from most of the people in the pub. His head appeared once again, a smile firmly set into place. "And who have you brought with you?"

Sam turned and made introductions. "This is Buffy and Spike."

The old man looked directly at the former vampire. "Spike? And how does one gain such an interesting name?"

"By reputation." Spike held out his hand. "Given name was William, if it makes you feel better."

The old man took his hand and nodded. "I believe William suits you."

Buffy watched the exchange with some surprise. Very few people had been given permission to call him William.

She looked back again at the old man. He was elderly, but here he was, doing what he could. He provided a bit of escape and a little freedom for the people helping in the way they could. He'd somehow earned Spike's respect just by being here.

The three were to busy with the exchange to notice Sam's face fall. The lessons she'd been taught had all been dashed away in one moment. The man she was sitting with had not just been any vampire. The connection didn’t occur to her until his given name was revealed. Spike, but also William. That lead her to only one very clear conclusion. He had been William the Bloody.

A shadow fell into place all around her. An unknown one of who this shockingly blonde man really was, what he had been, and who he now traveled and apparently fought beside. She shook here head, now dizzy from facts all discounting each other. Everything she'd been taught. Everything she'd grown to know, to trust.

But Buffy's case was different. Someone had decided it was. Sam's rules no longer applied to the Slayer visiting from another time. Buffy's rules had been changed for her, and in her favor. Without knowing it, Sam's eyes began to burn. For one of the first times in her life, she felt sorry for herself.

"Sam?" the shadow beside her called.

She brought herself out of her thoughts and looked to the side opposite Buffy, to Ashton. His heart was worn on his face each time she saw him. His love embedded in his moves to comfort and care for her.

She looked over to Buffy and Spike, then to Mike. They were all looking at her worriedly. She quickly wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry."

Buffy, now seeing the arrival of Ashton, only smiled gently. "Don't be. It can all get to me too sometimes."

Sam nodded, hoping Buffy either believed she was speaking of slaying, or that she would not speak of what thoughts she had truly let her mind be drawn to.

Ashton, however, knew Sam too well. Whatever had upset her had little to do with slaying. Once again it was him. He only hurt her, and he didn't even know how or why. "I may have found some information," he said quietly.

Mike nodded. "You want to go to the lower levels?"

"I think it would be best," Ashton acquiesced.

"First things first." Mike lowered himself behind the bar again and came up with a glass with etchings covering its surface. It was filled with the red liquid brought in moments ago, but its true contents was camouflaged by the decorative design. He handed it to his vampiric friend.

Both Buffy and Spike whipped their heads back at the bartender. Then it hit Buffy.

"Mike."

The old man nodded. "Yes?"

Buffy caught herself. She knew about this man. He had been outside the night Sam and Ashton first met. He tried to shield the vampire from the threatening Slayer. "Oh, I just-"

She looked back at Ashton, now sipping his blood while Sam brought him up to date on the activities planned for the evening. "I didn't know you knew. Who he was." She nodded towards the vampire, now finishing his meal.

"I see." Mike grinned. "Yes, well, let us say, he has been in my family for generations. Shall we?" And he winked.

Spike nudged her when Mike went to tend to other customers. "What was that about?"

Buffy smiled. "Just remembering something I read is all."

He cocked his head, asking a silent question, but she apparently was not answering and instead turned to Sam. "So, where to now?"

Sam turned to them, still unsure of what she'd just figured out about one of the blondes. "We go below."

Once the glass was drained of its contents, Ashton reached behind the bar and set the glass on a shelf below to be sure only Mike would be picking it up, then stood with Sam.

They all walked out the door, nodding at the old barkeep as they exited, and around the building to the back. The door there was large and seemed hinged onto the wall at an odd angle.

Ashton was about to open it, then turned around. "You can speak freely here, but not everyone is friendly. Please, keep your wits about you." He opened the door and descended the stairs. They each went in after.

Buffy was filled with a sense of quickened movement, but her feet paced with those with her, and she felt Spike's ever constant presence only steps behind her. When they reached the landing the pub appeared again. Only this time, its patrons were not dirty from work. They were demons.

Horned demons, scaled demons, a rainbow of colors and languages filled the room. And at the bar was a woman, aged like the man in the twin pub above, but, as the patrons were, she was also a demon.

Any man or woman who looked upon her would not be able to see what hid beneath her human graying hair and bright blue eyes. Buffy knew she was not a vampire, they gave off a specific frequency to her senses, but she was most definitely a demon. And one who could mask who she was inside.

Spike sensed it as well. This place reminded him of some of his favorite haunts in Sunnydale. Demons everywhere, all mingling together playing at being friends until one or the other of them got riled up. Then of course, all hell would break loose for awhile then settle until it all started over again. Generally a bloke could sit with others not of his kind with no troubles. Most differences were forgotten at the door.

"Hemphry," Ashton greeted the woman and sat at one of the simple round tables. Sam, Buffy and Spike joined him.

"Ashton. I trust Mike has made sure you've fed?" she said and placed ale in front of each of them.

The dark vampire picked up his drink and drank down a greedy gulp. "That he has."

"Good." She smiled. "And Sam, how are you?"

"I'm well." She took a small sip from the mug in front of her then set it down. "We have a few problems though, Hemphry. Ones I think that may need your distinct talents to solve."

The woman looked past her regular customers to the unfamiliar faces. "I see." She rounded the table to Spike and Buffy and shook her head. "I do see. You are not to be. Not yet." She raised one hand and set it just over Buffy's forehead.

"Hey," the blonde Slayer began to protest.

"Let her, luv," Spike said, watching the woman with an intense gaze.

Buffy shot him a look but stilled herself and let the woman place her palm on her forehead.

Hemphry closed her eyes and let her head fall back. "You are meant to be here, but it has not yet been your time. Your energy is… confused, displaced."

Buffy sat still. She felt nothing supernatural and was never sure if she believed in fortunetellers, but the woman was not exactly off base. All of a sudden, Hemphry snapped her hand away from Buffy.

"You understand part of your journey here. Its meaning." She looked from the dark couple to the blonde one. "Your goals are one in the same." She took a few steps towards Spike. "And for you, do not dwell on this past. You know." She paused, sensing the words needed to be said. "You are on your path, as they are." She looked back to Buffy. "Your path has been drawn out before you. All that is needed is." She looked about the room. "The power."

Spike looked at Ashton and pointed towards Hemphry. "She's pretty good."

"But what does it mean?" Buffy asked.

Hemphry came down from whatever trace she was partially under. "Unfortunately, I only see what I see, and the words are rarely my own. Their meaning is lost to me, but to you, they should have meaning."

Sam frowned. "But, Hemphry, our goals are not the same. These two wish to go home. I wish to prevent disaster."

"I am sorry, my dear. I do not control these things." She gave the young woman a sympathetic frown. "I do however have information on the talisman you have spoken of."

Ashton set his drink down. "That would be extremely helpful. What have you heard?"

The bar maid took his empty mug and set it on the bar behind her. "It is little. Only that its location has been discovered. The Tomar may have it, but they still must wait for the time." She turned and looked at the patrons. "I believe it will be soon. I have sensed from others that much."

Buffy looked the woman over. "Have you heard about a crystal?"

"A crystal? What type?"

Buffy opened her mouth to answer then realized she'd never known the name and looked questioningly at Spike.

He saw her confusion and looked back at Hemphry. "Not sure of its name, but it's what brought us here. It opened a doorway of such. Through time."

"Displaced energy. That's what it was." The fortuneteller nodded, happy that some of her words made sense. "I have not heard of such a thing. My specialty is dimensions, but I can keep an open mind for thoughts towards it."

"Appreciate that, luv."

She smiled at him. "Will that be all for you this evening?"

Sam and Ashton exchanged a glance before nodding. Sam looked back at Buffy. "There aren't a lot of vampires around here, but I've gotten word of a group of chaos demons causing trouble."

Spike smiled. "Chaos demons? I'd love a bit of that action."

The three headed out, thanking Hemphry for what information she had.

~~`~~

Quentin ducked behind a corner and scribbled down what he had witnessed. The four of them were fighting together. They'd obliterated the demons in seconds. The blondes were demons, that much was sure. What type? He could not discern.

Vampires seemed likely, because they had little reaction to the demon who'd shown himself on the familiar vampire's face during the battle. Not that he himself was close enough to see the change, but the feral growl that echoed in the alley could only be that of the demon.

The young man was tired now; he'd had to work to keep up with them since the group came from behind the building frequented by those seeking fermented liquids after working their menial jobs. He'd expected the vampire and Slayer but not the newcomers.

Whoever they were, they had managed to squeeze their way into the midst of his final project: 'The accurate keeping of accounts of a Slayer averting apocalypse.'

Unfortunately, their presence had already jeopardized this. He could not keep accounts of those he could not explain. Once again, he avoided mention of the blondes and stuck with relevant information on the Slayer herself and the vampire she continued keeping in her company.

She was no longer working immorally with him, but still, he was a constant. If he were gone altogether, things would be so much simpler. But he could not count on the Slayer to do this.

He knew her feelings for him had been her death sentence, but upcoming events had to be taken care of first. It was the only reason The Council did not end her life now. She had at least this to complete. One final task. It was foretold. Then, regardless, she would have to be put to death.

She would be gone after she quelled the Tomar.

If You Only Knew

Michelle walked quietly next to Dawn towards the double doors out of the school and into the courtyard. She'd been glad that several of her classes were with Dawn, but she'd had more trouble fitting in than she thought she would.

From the descriptions of American public schools, she'd expected comfortable classes with little structure. Classes full of easy going teens and faculty.

What she found was that the structure was there, just as an undercurrent. Students were encouraged to participate and form their own thoughts. A free thinking form of teaching. Although class discussions were of course part of her studies in the Council, free thinking was not encouraged, just taken note of then passed over.

Even in the most basic of courses, she found herself ahead in several areas, but behind in others. History was like decoding a language. References to periods and wars were often called by unfamiliar names, but, with Dawn's help, she'd caught on to much of it.

Now her day was over and they were walking along with some girls Dawn knew. The girls were friendly, but Michelle was new and unknown to all but Dawn. Suddenly she heard her name intermingled with the conversations taking place between the young ladies.

"Michelle, how did you like your first day?" the girl with medium length brown hair walking beside Dawn asked her.

Michelle pulled her books closer to her chest and smiled at Janice. "It was very interesting. The teachers are all very kind."

Janice waved her statement off. "That's just cuz you're new. Wait till you really get to know 'em," she giggled.

Michelle's smile widened. Things would be ok.

Dawn linked her arms through her friends'. "How about the coffee shop?"

Janice clapped her hands. "Lattes all round?"

Michelle nodded and walked along with them, now feeling more comfortable.

~~`~~

Buffy walked beside Spike, their fingers laced as they listened to the information Ashton had been sharing when the chaos demons interrupted.

"If they weren't lying," he continued over his shoulder to the blondes, "it should be in two nights. At the height of the hour. Midnight."

"What about the talisman itself?" Sam asked him.

"The information is sketchy, only that it is within their grasp." He led them down another street, passing several brick homes. They were tall two- stories, with lovely gardens kept in the raised ground encased in brick. He looked back at Buffy again. "I will ask for your crystal as well now, but you understand, we must stop the Tomar."

Buffy nodded. "I know. Spike and I are going to help as much as we can."

Ashton nodded, knowing a Slayer would. His more pressing question was of Spike, or William the Bloody.

He led them into an alley then turned. Sam gave him a curious look, wondering if mentioning Spike's alter ego to him had been wise.

Buffy and Spike looked around the alley, sure they'd been led here because Ashton was expecting demons.

"Now, if you don't mind," the dark vampire began as he turned and stared down the former vampire in his midst, "I'd like a few questions of my own answered."

Spike let go of Buffy's hand and instinctively stepped forward to partially shield her.

"What questions would those be, mate?"

"Ashton," Sam chastised him.

He shook his head at her. "I must know," he stated simply before looking back at Spike, the man whom he sensed had Slayer's blood in his veins, yet vampiric blood that was aged. All with a human heart beating and warmth burning naturally through his skin. "William the Bloody, how have you become human?"

Buffy shared her stunned expression with Spike then she stared Ashton.

The two blondes from the future had hoped to keep as much as they could of who they were, or to be more precise, why they were, to themselves. Her identity could do little harm, her future would be unaffected, but Spike was an active participant in this time.

"Crap," Buffy whispered under her breath.

Spike tilted his head to the side and gazed up at the larger vampire. "Figured that one out did ya'?"

"Actually, I did," Sam confessed. "I did not realize until you gave Mike your human name."

Buffy gritted her teeth. "You shoulda asked him to call you Randy. They never woulda figured that one out."

Ashton wasn't interested in the banter. "How did you do it?" He looked back at Sam then to Spike again. "How are YOU human?"

Spike closed his eyes and took a cleansing breath before facing the vampire. "I wish I could tell ya, mate. I really do." He felt Buffy's hand meet his again. "All I can tell you is, you can't give up."

Ashton opened his mouth, prepared to say something, then noticed the small gesture Buffy had made, and his brow furrowed.

Sam watched the short exchange and shook her head. There was nothing that could change it. And whatever had happened to Buffy and Spike had been in a time she would in all likelihood never see. If she did, Ashton would still be as he was, and she would be an old woman.

Buffy felt the tension. The weight on Sam's and Ashton's minds seemed to fill the air and hold them in place. Something had to be said. "So, is there anything else good to kill in this town?"

Both the Slayer and the vampire gave her odd looks. "What? It clears my mind," she said frankly.

Sam grinned. "Yeah, we should check the cemeteries." She began to walk, then turned back and faced Ashton. "I do need you to do something for me, though."

"Of course," he said easily.

She looked back at Spike. "Mrs. Walsh would never say anything, but with so many single ladies I don't think you living in my apartment is painting the best picture."

Spike looked back at Buffy, then to Sam. He understood. "I think I remember a place, might still be here-"

"Easier said than done," Sam said and turned to Ashton. "Could you put him up?"

Ashton studied the former vampire. Maybe he would be of help. He looked at the small woman gripping the blonde man's hand. A man. "He would be welcome."

Sam smiled and looked back as Buffy. She seemed happy. Truly alive. Maybe she would be able to answer questions. Give her an idea of what to do. Sam smiled back at Ashton. "Thank you." Then she looked back at the blonde pair. "You are sure you won't mind?"

Spike smiled, a plan forming to help the large Angel impersonator to change his act, and nodded. "Wouldn't want to corrupt those young women's minds."

"Puh-leese," Buffy said and rolled her eyes.

Spike nodded towards Buffy and smiled at Sam. "Corrupting her is work enough."

He received a light smack on the arm from Buffy. "You are so-o-o asking for it."

"Yeah. Unfortunately, I won't be around to get it," he said with some regret.

~~`~~

Giles rifled through the stacks of papers in front of him. Several of the children had chosen their final projects, all for his approval. He was now regretting those approvals, along with the ones to come.

Most of the projects had something to do with the reforming of the Council's structure. At first, it reminded him of the fateful summer that had sparked Willow's interest in the future of Spike and Buffy. He had enjoyed the help and found that the work with the computers was not his worst experience. It had even brought up fond memories of Jenny.

These projects, he thought, would be much the same. They were yearlong and took many hours of dedication to one's specialty. Most of which he'd become more familiar with.

Then the insanity came, and he discovered just how dedicated this group was. He had old diaries, journals, and notes from the last 100 years on his desk, in the den used for the libraries. All of the papers thought to be part of new discoveries for the elder 'Watchers to be'. Those who would hope to take a charge in their career.

"Good lord," he said as he scanned the growing pile.

A young man, Nathan, came walking out of the library containing Watcher's Diaries. "Mr. Giles?"

Rupert set some papers aside and motioned for the boy to come.

He walked over, looking disturbed. "Sir, I was searching for a diary and found this." He handed an aged folder to Giles.

Giles took the thick package and set it out on his desk. There were no markings to indicate what it was, or to whom it belonged. He opened it and scanned several of the pages.

At first it was little, random accounts of a Slayer. Demons, vampires, travel. Whoever kept this had followed his Slayer with dedication. "These look to be the personal notes of a Watcher." He flipped towards the back. The passages were much the same. More fights, more demons, vampires.

Giles closed the folder. "And what would you suppose could be done with this?"

Nathan eyed the yellowed folder. A smile began to form. "I could find out the identity of the Watcher and possibly the Slayer as well."

Giles handed him the folder. "I believe that would be an excellent project."

The boy smiled and walked to a desk nearby, sat and began taking notes.

The Head sighed. He'd wanted to make sure he took part in the activities, unlike his predecessor, but was finding it more taxing than he'd planned. He slipped his glasses off his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose remembering why he wanted to be a fore figure in the children's world. The end result would hopefully be a better Council. One that worked well with the Slayer.

With a little effort, he sat up and replaced his spectacles, awaiting the next child.

~~`~~

Christian sat in the loft of the store going through the books one by one. As large as the libraries were at the Council, there were some books he'd simply never even heard of here. He ran his fingers along the bindings, memorizing titles for later deliberation.

Now, though, he had a mission. There was something about the crystal he should know. Something he knew he'd learned but could not bring from his memory.

He was sure it was a minor detail, something dismissed as a small point, which was why he was having trouble remembering it now. Somehow he felt it was important, though, and it was driving him crazy.

His head pounded, and his eyes hurt from the constant reading. He was a spell caster, and although a large amount of studying was required with any specialty, he'd never been one for the books. He liked the teachings taught by the Wiccans of the Council and the natural elements of magic. It was his gift, but he'd never been the best student.

He looked down at Richard still seated at the table. He still typed away on Willow's laptop. She'd left it behind when her research seemed to be leading to an answer. They might be able to use a locator spell to find out 'where' Buffy was. But the 'when' was still causing problems.

Christian turned back to the books, trying to figure out a spell that could be used to enhance a location spell to also search through time.

Maybe when Willow and Tara returned, the three of them would be able to figure something out.

~~`~~

Sam stepped off the bus with an ease most her age didn’t possess and walked towards the rear, waiting for her bags to be pulled out from under its belly.

The small town reminded her a little of her own. It was greener here, but small and simple. She smiled, wondering if Buffy appreciated it, then knew she had to. She'd wanted to get back here so badly. To friends, family. And to her own future.

Sam saw her bag and stepped forward to take it, but was intercepted by a young man. "Let me help you," he grinned at her.

She smiled back. "No, thank you, young man." And she picked it up with ease.

The boy stood back up and watched the old woman walk away. He'd barely had a chance to try to lift it, but he knew it was heavy.

She was no stronger than your average twenty year old. Of course, the fact that she was well into her eighties was of no consequence, especially when she knew she had yet to look past 60. She had felt stronger lately, and was enjoying it.

With a bounce in her step, she hailed a cab. "Wild Winds, please."

"You got it," the man called over his shoulder after she was seated, and turned on the meter before taking off.

~~`~~

Dawn walked into The Magic Box laughing along with Michelle.

"And that waiter was so-o-o into you. I can't believe you tried to order it all in French."

Michelle smiled. "My French is perfect," she said, as though it would be obvious by her accent. "It is not my fault his is so poor."

Dawn set her books on the counter. "But it was the funniest shoot down to a pickup I've ever seen."

Richard turned his head towards the ladies coming in. "So, you have admirers?"

Michelle walked to the table and set her new textbooks down before seating herself next to him. "An obnoxious waiter is not an admirer."

Richard nodded. "Good." And he turned back to his work on the computer.

Dawn rolled her eyes and mumbled, "Don't be too jealous."

Christian came down the stairs of the loft with three books. "Hello, Dawn."

She smiled, picked up one of her books and a notebook and walked to the research table. "Hi, Christian. Did you guys find anything?"

He set the books down and sat a few seats over from Richard. "Willow has an idea for locating your sister and Spike, but we haven't figured out how to do it."

Dawn crinkled her nose and sat across from him. "Really? What is it?'

He began to explain.

Anya sat behind the counter flipping through a magazine shaking her head. "You can smell the hormones," she said to herself before checking the clock to see how long it would be before Xander was done with work for the day.

Vamp/Slayer 101

"You're sure this is the place to go to find vampires?" Michelle asked as she stood in line for entrance to The Bronze along with Willow, Richard and Xander.

"Oh yeah. They're big on the young blood." Xander handed his I.D. to the man checking ages and walked in after them.

The Bronze was bouncing for a Thursday. A light show complete with strobe was on full force. The live band was a major pull, and therefore snacks all around were available if you happened to be into the warm blood pulsating from wall to wall.

"Come on!" Willow yelled back to them over the music. She walked by the throng of people to the steps leading to the balcony. Even after the numerous refits The Bronze had had over the years, that was still the best place to use if you wanted to spot anything in particular.

They lined the railing overlooking the main floor and studied the groups below all moving to the music blaring from the stage.

Xander looked over the random jumble of colors and movement for someone out of place. He and Willow were pretty good at picking out the vamps now. Not from powers or senses, just a lot of practice. He'd seen this group from all angles. He'd been the dork in the corner, the guy dancing with his two best friends. The guy dating the popular girl, and now he was the adult. A funny thought even to him.

The adult who'd spent the better part of the afternoon in his friends' house soundproofing walls. He shook his head at the thought before looking over to Willow. "You see anyone?"

The redhead passed her eyes over the crowd again. "No."

"I do," Michelle said. "There's a vampire here." She nodded at the floor towards a boy dancing amongst the teens below.

At first glance he seemed perfectly normal. Denim jacket, black pants and a green polo. Not out of date and dancing with the kids well. The only oddity was how he seemed to move away from the girl turned with her back to him. He jumped forward each time she took a step back.

The girl dressed in a black jacket covering a red knee length dress spun, and they all saw why the boy was leaping away from her. The design on her back was made from several tiny studs beaded together in the shape of a cross.

The boy kept trying to work his way away from her, but the pit of dancers squeezed inward from every direction, making his escape a difficult one.

Richard looked over to Michelle. "Shouldn't be a problem. We'll need to get him away from the others, though."

Michelle nodded as she looked at the boy vampire. "I think I can do that," she said and spun walking back the way they'd come.

They looked around to be sure they caused no suspicion. Willow and Xander went to the exit and waited near the door for a sign that Michelle had it under control.

Richard walked to the bar, separating himself from his charge and girlfriend.

Michelle handed him her jacket before forcing her way through the crowd. She moved undetected towards the boy who'd lost the red-dressed girl along with his dance partner.

Michelle gave him a full grin and moved with the others beside him. He caught on quickly and moved to hold her hip as she moved back and forth.

Xander and Willow watched her. This was her first outing as a Slayer, and Sunnydale wasn't for amateurs.

Apparently she caught on fast. She smiled and moved in closer, whispering into the boy's ear. He grinned and nodded. Then took her hand and lead her towards the exit.

Willow and Xander saw them walking their way and scrambled out the door and to the back of the alley.

Richard sat calmly until Michelle was out of his sight and out of The Bronze before following.

Michelle giggled and began to lead the vampire down the alley.

"You sure are trusting to come back here with a stranger," the boy said.

Michelle took both his hands and walked backwards further into the darkness. "Oh, I don't think you'll hurt me." She smiled at him.

He smirked at her. "I might."

Michelle stopped and let go of one of his hands then held her hand out. "No, you won't," she said seriously, feeling the stake Xander threw to her land squarely in her palm. "Or anyone else."

The vampire boy watched the stake appear and come towards his chest. In a final attempt at escape, he shoved Michelle back, causing her to stake his arm instead of his heart.

She yanked the stake out and the vampire took the moment to jump back, securing his escape. He turned to run and ran right into Richard who fell back and knocked his head on the cement.

Michelle wasn't far behind the vampire. She grabbed his arm and yanked him around to face her. "You have no idea who you are dealing with." Then she punched him in the face before staking him, in the chest this time.

She watched the face of the boy crumble into dust and smiled. "I did it."

"Ow," Richard said and sat up holding the back of his head.

Willow and Xander raced out of the shadows to the side of the fallen Watcher.

Michelle heard him getting up and looked on with sorrow. "I'm sorry." She hoisted him up to his feet. "He never should have gotten that far."

Richard nursed the wound on his head with the handkerchief from his back pocket. "It's alright, Michelle. You did get him."

"Yeah," Xander said happily.

"Looked alright to me. One vampire equals one dusty pile," Willow affirmed.

Michelle picked up the jacket Richard had dropped on the cement and put it on. "Really?"

"Absolutely." Xander nodded.

Michelle grinned from Richard to Xander then to Willow. "Then, may I see the cemeteries now?"

~~`~~

Spike walked alongside Ashton trying to figure out how to get the man off the subject. "Yeah, mate. I'm serious. Staked 'er myself."

The dark vampire studied his new companion. The blonde caused one query after another, all with few answers. The only thing he could seem to get him to talk about was how he and the new Slayer had gotten themselves here in the first place. "And this Watcher wished for them to come back here? To what end?"

Spike shoved his hands into his pocket. "Not sure on that part. Maybe Dru had more information." He chuckled at his own words. "Not likely though."

"From what I have heard of her and… you, it would seem unlikely." Ashton tried to work it out again in his head. This man was no longer William the Bloody, he was simply Spike.

"Well, she ain't here. So whatever it was can't be done now," Spike said quietly. He'd had to do it, and Dru was no longer his love. But she would always be a part of him, no matter how much time passed.

Ashton murmured his agreement and the two continued on.

Still not sure how to bring it up, Spike decided that subtlety just wouldn't work. Which was good, because it had never been his strongest asset. "So, you an' the Slayer?"

Ashton's face suddenly went hard. "What about her?"

Spike sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought. "You know what. Why are you on the outs with her? If it has to do with shackles..."

The vampire turned on him in an instant and held him up against yet another wall.

Spike struggled for the breath he now needed. He somehow choked out a few words. "You keep holdin' me this way," cough, "I'm gonna start thinkin' things."

Ashton twisted his mouth then shook his head violently before dropping Spike to his feet.

The man new to humanity held his own throat and coughed a few more times before he attempted to speak. "You don't need to be so touchy."

Ashton stood with his back to the bent human. "Maybe you have an idea of what my time here is like, with her, but I have no chance to be anything more than the monster I am." He turned and looked back at Spike. "I haven't even been able to do that right for a very long time."

Spike stood up straight and looked up at the vampire towering over him. "You'd be surprised just how much we do have in common."

Ashton looked down at the man.

Spike smiled. "C'mon, mate. You tell me about it, and we'll figure something out."

Still unsure, Ashton saw few other choices, and they continued to his home.

~~`~~

The partition in Sam's apartment had been moved aside to open the area for the two ladies. She'd done it hoping that Buffy would feel more free to a discussion of... well she wasn't sure. There were too many things she wanted to know, all centering on herself.

Samantha wasn't sure how, or even if, she should approach the subjects rolling around in her head. She'd always lived her life for her present survival, not her future. But here she had someone who made her believe she had a future. Something Slayers usually did not have.

Her short life span was of little consequence to her. Like any person who believed they would live to be fifty, she knew she would live to be in her mid-twenties at best. She'd reached that goal, would never see thirty, and the only reason she was still here now was because she'd been called so late in her life.

These were all facts she'd long ago accepted. The way life was and the way she lived it. It was why she had contacts in the cities she stayed in, helped the people living in them. Why she stayed with the Underground in France when she had to go to Paris. Why she hid just outside a concentration camp in Poland, and why she lived with factory workers in London. These people were the ones in need of hope and help. She would provide whatever she could while she walked the Earth.

Her upbringing and her day to day life had made her an unselfish person. Her presence was all she had to give.

But now in a matter of a day, things had changed. She had done so many things that should have been impossible. She'd met another Slayer, a time traveling pair, and a human who'd once been a Master Vampire. He'd killed a Slayer himself at one point.
Sam pulled the blanket up under her chin and rolled over to see Buffy nestled in her make shift pallet, looking back.

"Can't sleep?" Sam sat up and asked.

Buffy shook her head. "No." She pulled the blankets away and stood up wearing an oversized nightgown, one of the practical garments that had been purchased. She walked into the kitchen area and drew some water into a cup.

"Me either," Sam admitted and got up and walked to the couch. "What is it that's causing you problems?"

Buffy took a long sip and rubbed her eyes then joined Sam on the couch. "Well, mostly it's you."

"Me?" Sam asked.

Buffy nodded, then cocked her head to the side and studied the young face of Samantha Emerson… or soon to be. She remembered the woman she would be. She'd been impressed with the former Slayer from the moment she opened the door. Even Cordy would have been impressed.

The cheerleader's echoing voice with tips on moisturizing still rang in the blonde Slayer's ears and caused a smile to sneak across her face.

Sam had spoken with her so easily about Ashton and helped her to see Spike for more than what he had been, before he'd discovered he had a choice. Before she'd found out she could make one.

"What is it?" Sam asked, watching as Buffy smiled and looked past her.

A chuckle escaped Buffy's mouth. "It's just that, I didn't think deja-vu could happen in reverse."

Sam shook her head. "I don't understand."

Buffy looked back, her smile fading. "I want to ask you something, but don't freak, ok?"

Freaking was not something Sam wanted to do, whatever it was. "I think so."

Buffy pursed her lips, unsure of what to say. What had Sam said to her? The memory came into focus, and suddenly Buffy knew what to say, or rather, what to ask. "I wonder," she began and looked as deeply into Sam's eyes as she could, "how confused are you?"

The dark haired Slayer was taken aback. "Excuse me?"

Buffy smiled again gently. "The reason I'm asking is, well, when I was with Spike, you know, before… when he was a vamp, I was so-o lost." She looked away around the small room and then back at the Slayer. "It was killing me."

Sam's eyes widened. "You do know. You know what's happening? All of it?"

Buffy shook her head. "Not all of it, but a lot. You and Ashton? You were," she paused, "but now you're not. Right?"

Sam nodded. "I had to. We couldn't. If The Council found out... not to mention, he's a vampire. I never should have." Sam kept shaking her head as she spoke then looked up. "But you were permitted."

"Hardly," Buffy snorted. "I mean, eventually, there wasn't much choice."

"You had no choice?"

"Oh...I had a choice. I mean the ones who'd blown a gasket had none." Buffy smiled. "And as much as I know you would love to hear about that, I really can't tell ya."

Sam sat forward on the couch expectantly. "What can you tell me?"

"Not to give up."

"On what?"

"On any of it. Life, love, the pursuit of happiness." Buffy waved a hand in the air. "Any of it. Don't let anyone convince you it's wrong. No Slayer's life is carved in stone." Buffy giggled. "And even if it is, you can't take the symbols literally."

Sam squinted at Buffy. "You're a little strange."

"Yeah." Buffy grinned. "I'm aware."

Instructions Included

Willow slid her key into the deadbolt and opened the door, allowing Michelle to walk in ahead of her.

"And when he jumped off of the tombstone right onto my stake." The excited newly-called Slayer continued, "I couldn't believe he was so stupid."

"Fledglings are like that sometimes. Buffy can usually get pretty close to the younger ones without them even knowing who she is," Willow explained the finer points of young vamps to the new slayer. "They seem to wake up pretty much like they were before they were turned, though. You really have to watch out for the athletic ones."

Michelle took off her light blue jacket and hung it on the coat rack near the door. "Like the gymnast Xander spoke of?"

"Yeah. Oh, and the ones that were criminals or crazy before, too. They can be even worse after." Willow set about putting the weapons away in a cupboard.

Michelle stifled a yawn. She didn't want to go to sleep, despite the late hour. Unfortunately for her, Willow saw her gaping mouth. "And all good Slayers get a good night's sleep after a full night of the slaying," she added to her Slayer/vampire knowledge list.

The dark haired Slayer smiled. "Good night, Willow, and thank you."

The reformed witch gave her a quick hug and watched her go into the guestroom.

The young Slayer was good. Not as good as Buffy of course, but she was a natural. Something that should be a given, but Willow had seen four different Slayers fight now. Kendra had been regimental, Faith was a risk taker, and Buffy seemed to be a little of both. Michelle hadn't done enough to have her own style yet, but Willow could see it forming even in just the one evening of slayage. She found the fastest way to dispatch the demons, and did her best to make it as painless as possible for them. But she was able to be creative and have some fun with the chase.

Perhaps meeting and talking with Spike had not changed her view of the creatures that roamed at night, but it had made her aware of what they had been. Who they could have been if given the chance. For Michelle it seemed, she wanted to be as humane in ending the existence of something that reminded her of someone real. But she wanted them to die fighting. Somehow it seemed only right. She had something to compare these evils to.

Willow made her way into the room she shared with Tara and quickly changed into pajamas.

Tara rolled over when her lover crawled into bed. She cuddled close to Willow. "Did everything go alright?'

Willow turned her head enough to see Tara's open eyes looking into her questioningly. "She did fine, sweetie."

Tara nodded. "At least we know the Hellmouth isn't opening up anytime soon."

"Yeah." Willow agreed and closed her eyes ready to let sleep take her. "We'll be fine till Buffy gets back. All..." she yawned, "bases covered."

"Hmm," her lover responded, and fell back to sleep.

~~`~~

Nathan pulled another chart from the files of the computer and compared it with the one he'd found within the folder he'd discovered in the library. He scanned and compared the two. The similarities were there. With a grin he jotted down the placement of the stars.
He took note of the dots that lined up with his drawn out version and the one on the screen of the computer and called across the short distance. "Audrey?"

The brunette stood and looked over her computer to the one across from her. "What is it, Nathan?"

She was on hand along with several other computer hackers and programmers in training. She, along with any Watcher in training for a specialty other than the training of a Slayer, earned credits for final projects by the work she did for the children who aspired to one day have a Slayer in their care.

They were expected to take part and make there own discoveries by the work they did in assisting. One of the changes instated by the new Head of The Council of Watchers; learn by doing.

"I need to mark the position of these stars." He said as she walked around the shared desk and looked on the monitor. "And search for other charts matching their position."

Audrey studied the chart. "That shouldn't be a problem." On closer inspection she noted the chart's date. Almost 60 years ago. "Would you like it to search for only charts in the past?"

Nathan took a moment and decided. "No. Any time within one hundred years before and after should be sufficient."

Audrey nodded. "In that case, copy the information to a disk, and I'll get to it after I'm finished with this program."

Nathan pulled a disk from the stack of papers, books and folders and began the download.

~~`~~

Buffy, now dressed in slacks and a button up shirt, swung the long wooden handle downward and effectively moved aside the offensive dirt. "I hate gardening," she said and wiped her brow.

Sam smiled before hefting the hoe in her hand towards the raw earth. "I like it. Gives me time to think."

The blonde Slayer pulled the weeds marring the ground and hefted the clods of dirt into the barrel. "I think I'd rather stake vamps. They don't fight as much."

"True, but all the dust." Sam offered, scrunching her nose.

Buffy held her muddy hands up. "Oh yeah. This is much better than dust."

It was then that Sam took a good look at Buffy.

Coordinated as she was when it came to battles, gardening was most definitely not something with which Buffy excelled. Her hands were covered in mud as were her pants and shirt. Not too mention the mud on her face and in her hair. With no other recourse, Sam bent over and began laughing harder than she could remember doing in a long time.

Buffy watched her, letting her face fall. "That's it. I need a bath, a massage, and a good dose of coddling when this is all over."

Sam got her giggling under control just when Buffy began to smile and joined her. Both ladies erupted once again when Buffy began trying to wipe away the mud from her face, effectively covering herself with more of the thick brown substance. Then Buffy looked up at her laughing comrade in arms and came up with recourse of her own.

Sam had no time to duck when the mud came flying towards her chest.

"Ahh!!" The dark haired Slayer fell backward trying to move out of the way but was only pushed back to the ground by the force of the projectile She sat in the goo and slowly lifted her head to eye the woman across from her.

Buffy watched the eyes of a miffed Slayer as they looked back at her. "What? I had to." She cocked her head to the side. "You know I had to?"

Again the laughter filled the small area of land behind the apartment building.

The blonde Slayer calmed herself. Taking deep breaths and trying to shake the caked on dirt from her hands. "Xander would love this."

"Xander?" Sam asked as she wiped the dirt clod of her coat. ""He is the one who married the demon?"

"Ex-demon," Buffy quickly corrected. "Yeah. He's Mister Dig. Construction work," she explained.

Sam smiled. "And he and… Willow?" Buffy nodded, letting her know she'd gotten the name right this time. Having her redheaded friend referred to as "Spruce" was a funny moment she was resigned not to share with any of the Scoobies.

Sam continued, "They have been with you all of you‘re time as Slayer?"

"Yup, pretty much." Buffy said, having cleaned herself off the best she could before going back to weeding.

Sam struck the earth as she continued the conversation. "I can't imagine having so many friends that stayed with you always."

Now on all fours, Buffy yanked at the plants determined to keep their position rooted in the ground. "And a sister, too. Can't forget Dawn."

"Of course." Sam was still shocked to know Buffy had a sister. She had no siblings and had come to understand most Slayers didn't. "Witches, werewolves and vampires," Sam said. "It sounds like what we should be fighting, not with whom we fight alongside."

"Yeah, well," Buffy shrugged and dropped another weed onto the growing pile in the wheelbarrow. "Kinda had to make up some rules as we went along."

"I think I would like to meet these friends of yours. Do you think I could?" Sam waited knowing from the overheard conversation that she may have the chance in the future.

Buffy stopped what she was doing and looked back at her breathless. "I thought I told you already. One: there are some things I just can't tell you."

"And two?" Sam held the hoe upside down and waited.

Buffy sighed. "And two: even if I write it out for you, it doesn't mean things won't change. Or that we haven't already changed things by being here."

"But if you already changed things," Sam pleaded.

"Then I don't want to make things any worse," Buffy finished. "I can't. You know this." She tried not to let the wine seep into her voice. A large part of her really did want to reveal everything. But she knew better. Enough movie choices dictated by Xander had shown her that much. Doc Brown wouldn’t want her to say a word.

A small nod was given by Sam before she turned around. What Buffy said was true. She may have already made changes in the future that couldn't be fixed. Sam had information that she shouldn't, and for good reason. IT was bad enough.

If she took what she knew and used it to her advantage, irreparable damage may be done to the future. Buffy's and Spike's future. One where a vampire and a Slayer might be happy. Sam looked back at Buffy who was yet again hunched over, yanking at a weed.

Determination set into Sam's mind. They would get back. Such a pair as they were, her guests gave her hope. They would return, if for no other reason than that future she had only whispers of.

~~`~~

Sam looked at her reflection in the small mirror over the chest of draws with the television playing the local news while she tightened the bun holding her graying hair in place. This town seemed to have a lot of odd occurrences and, therefore, a lot of news.

Updates were a frequent occurrence, Samantha Emerson soon found out. In the time she'd checked in less than 24 hours ago, she'd had four programs interrupted by "Breaking News."

But then again, she reminded herself, there was a Hellmouth under this town. Pulling the same demons here that had plagued most of Europe in her time. The fact they would take note of a person found in a cemetery with possible damage to the neck was a sign this town knew the score, so to speak.

In all likelihood, people watched the news a lot here. If for nothing else, to be sure it wasn't their son or daughter who'd been found. A wife or a husband was safe at work. If their loved ones were in danger, a news flash would let them know.

With a final look at herself in the mirror, she pulled the strap of her small purse over her shoulder and walked out the door of her hotel room.

~~`~~

It had started out innocently. It really had. The accent was the only reason he'd even asked.

Most vampires lost their accents somewhere around age 200. Mostly because they travel so much that they would pick up on the others they aquatinted themselves with. But Ashton's was strong. The Russian in him had not died with the body.

So Spike, hoping to encourage a conversation, had asked, "Got any decent vodka?"

In truth, he'd not thought the vampire would. This was a war. Rations were low, and getting vodka good enough for a native of the country it was known for, would be more than difficult.

Ashton had been none too happy to share his space. But Sam had made the request, and there was no denying her. Not in his mind. The odd human should have been reason enough for him, as he soon found out.

The factory that had once been used to produce clothing was all but rubble after the first bombs were dropped. The only surviving element was the basement below, now closed off to anyone who didn't happen to know the entrance. A secret he'd shared with only two people; Mike and Sam.

Now the vampiric human, sitting across from him on a chair that had seen much better days, also knew the location of the refuge he'd called home for more than two years.

It was dark, of course. No windows or doors directly to the outside. He managed to procure enough candles that if needed, they were available. But generally he used the senses given to him along with the demon and his death, to move about in the pit below.

Spike seemed impressed with his host's home. Furnished, and like his would- be Mate's, neat. Small things about it let people know this place was lived in. Books and candles. Magazines and, he almost chuckled, more rugs.

It was dark, and several of the walls were crumbled remnants of what they'd been. Passages had been cleared to open up the area. But to Ashton it was a home. One that, Spike had to admit, was nice for any vamp.

Unfortunately, once they'd arrived, the dark demon had fallen silent. Little was said and Spike hated the new quiet that settled. Sleep was next on the to-do list, he knew. But he wanted to pick up where the previous discussion left off.

The conversation had been simple. Spike understood what was going on with Ashton and his Slayer. But when pressed on how to fix it, Spike had no real idea. Whatever had happened to Buffy and he was different, and Sam had been a big part of what made Buffy reconsider.

So, the quiet came, and an idea, and then the bottles. Apparently, having a friend who actually owned and ran his own bar--or two--gave Ashton some helpful connections to his homeland. Mainly, the aforementioned vodka.

Which had brought them here. One drunken vampire, listening to advice from a very drunk human. Each idea more outlandish than the other. What the vampire found more unbelievable was that most of the ideas were ones Spike had actually tried.

Ashton spit his last gulp across the room in a spray that was classic to any burst of surprise when taking a drink. If he were human, he would have choked. As it was, he was having trouble getting the air into his body needed to make sound. Vampire or not, air was necessary.

"You shackled her… to the wall?" he said wiping the escaped alcohol from his shirt.

Spike waved his arm in the air. He was drunk enough to stop worrying so much about what the vampire found out. He just wanted to make a point. He wasn't sure he remembered what the point was, but it was supposed to be made. Besides, he enjoyed telling his tales. "Was more like supports in the wall. But yeah." He took another long swig then eyed the bottle. Its clear glass showed the water-like liquid inside. Crystal clear and refreshing. At least when you haven't had it in years.

"And that worked?" Ashton asked, now resuming his drinking as well.

Spike chuckled. "Nah. Got me banned from her home."

The vampire shook his head, bent over, set his bottle on the ground, then lifted his head up to eye the man across from him. "What were you saying?"

Spike smiled and let his head fall to the side as he looked glazed-eyed at the rug on the floor. "Buffy."

Ashton shook his head. "No, about being banned. She banned you from her home, but you had the invitation?"

Spike's smile slowly left his face. A frown came in its place. "She took it back."

The words filtered through the vampire’s drunkenness slowly, forming the idea of what was being conveyed. "That's possible?"

"Yeah. Right unfair, you ask me. All the hard work gone through, for such a basic thing," he said before taking another long drink.

"But how?" Ashton was beginning to sober up. No matter how much he knew he was kept out of Sam's life, he'd never thought she'd be able to keep him out. The idea struck fear in parts of his mind he'd never considered before. His dead heart squeezed in on itself as the idea sunk in.

"Magic, of course. How else? Little mojo here," he waved his hand to his left, "little mojo there," he waved his hand to the right, "an' no more Spikey invites." He watched his hand, scrutinizing his need to wave it around, shook his head and let his hand drop onto the arm of the worn flowered upholstery of his char.

Ashton was still processing the information. "How did you ever get so close to her again?"

A flash of a memory took over Spike's mind.

She stood at the top of the stairs. He hadn't even bothered trying to cross the threshold. It was one of the first times he had ever noticed a look in her eyes that said more than ‘I put up with you cuz I have to’ Since he'd been banned.

"I got 'er killed," he said and dropped his chin to his chest. Ashton watched as Spike's shoulders began to shake, tears falling silently down his cheeks..