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Author's Chapter Notes:
I realize that there will be a few historical inconsistancies in this story but as I've not only never seen England, nor lived through a war torn Europe... I've done what I can and used most inconsistancies to help create a unique life for Sam.
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.


Chapter End Notes:
I did try to have a little fun in here poking fun at a few things. Hope you liked, and if you did there should be a little blank box a little lower that will let you share those happy happy joy joy feelings. *hint*



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