Prologue


Spike sat in front of his apartment smoking a cigarette, while he watched people get ready to go inside for the night. There were a few kids out playing basketball in the parking lot of the complex. An old woman sweeping the dirt from the sidewalk in front of her door. Two men whispering conspiratorially near the back of one of the buildings. He should be out spending his last free night getting plastered, but he was feeling oddly contemplative. His mind was running through all the events of the last year. Everything that had happened seemed so surreal. Being a ghost, the fight with Angel at the opera house, Doyle or Lindsey, whatever his name was, the psycho slayer, Illyria, Italy, Harmony. He shuddered at that last thought. Bloody hell, he still couldn’t understand what was going on in his brain over that one. He knew that he wasn’t going to escape this next battle. Angel was pretty sure that they were all going to die, and for once he agreed with the poof. The only regret he had was how things with Buffy ended. The sentimental fool in him still wished he could have seen her one last time, but it was probably a good thing that he hadn’t. Those type of things never turn out how you picture them. Songs, slow-motion running, snogging like mad, yep, it would never have happened like that. He was interrupted from his thoughts by Wesley, sitting down next to him.


"May I have a moment of your time?"


Spike turned to face him and gave him a grateful look "sure, I’m actually glad you came. My thoughts had turned to things I’d rather not think of."


“Well I’ll get on with it, I’m in a hurry, but I wanted to see you before we all met up back inside.” Wesley took a breath, “You know that Angel is right. About this fight. We're most likely going to all die."


"I was there too Percy, I heard the great and rousing speech."


Rolling his eyes, Wes continued "Have you given any thought to the Shanshu prophecy?"


Spike shrugged and took a drag off the cigarette, "Sorry, Watcher-boy. As much as I’d like to think that there is some big old destiny waiting for me, there isn’t. That's Angel's gig. You know it, I know it, everyone knows it. I'm just the grunt work. Just point me towards some demons who need killing."


"We don’t know that the prophecy isn’t about you. It doesn’t mention either you or Angel by name. For all we know, it could be you.”


“Ya, well, maybe it is. I really don’t give a piss about it right now. I have a job to do and I’m probably going to be dust by the end of it. I don’t have time for talk about this Shanshu thing.”


"I understand your reservations, Spike, but I’ve thought a bit about it and what it means for both you and Angel. I have taken the liberty to create some personal documents for you. A passport, visa, the works. Should something happen to me or Angel, you might need them.”


“Um, I’m a vampire or did you forget that?”


With a small laugh, Wesley finished by adding, “If you somehow are the one spoken of in the Shanshu prophecy, you’ll need these to start over.” He then handed over the packet of papers.


Spike took them and opened them up. He pulled out the passport and started thumbing through it. He opened up his mouth to protest, but Wesley beat him to it.


“Before you start to argue, I created a similar set for Angel. I’m just covering my bases.”


Looking a bit sheepish, Spike looked up at Wes and smiled.


“Thanks Wes, I appreciate it.”


“It was my pleasure.”


Before Wesley could get up and walk back inside, Spike grabbed his shoulder.


“I know I should have said something, but at the time it just didn’t seem appropriate. I’m sorry about Fred. I loved the bird, we all did. But I know how painful it was for you, especially. I’ve been there, with Buf..I mean in the same sort of situation. I just wanted you to know that before we went off.”


Wes stared at the ground for a few minutes while he tried to gain control of his emotions, then finally looked up with a strained smile, “Thank you, Spike.” He then stood up and went back inside.


Spike looked down at the passport in his hand and tucked it into the inside pocket of his duster. He would deal with the other documents later. He had a poetry reading to get to.

Chapter 1

One year later.....

William came awake with a gasp and a jerk. It was the same dream. Every night, the same dream. An alley, rain, blood, sadness and despair. He always awoke with a sense of loss and the feeling you get when you forget something, but can't quite remember what it was. Though, that must be normal when you don't remember who you are. William groaned and reached over and switched the alarm off. He didn't even know why he set it. It's not like he'd ever used it to wake up. Sleep was as elusive for him as his memories were. Every morning when he opened his eyes, he wished he hadn’t. This probably wasn't the best attitude to have, but he couldn't help it. It had been almost a year since he woke up in that alley, and it had only gotten worse. He still couldn't remember anything prior to that moment, nothing at all. He wasn't even sure if William was his real name. It was a depressing way to live. He had nothing to tie him to this world, and it was starting to take its toll. He stared up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. It was always the hardest first thing in the morning. It felt like the whole world was pressing down on him. A single tear slipped down his cheek. Feeling a bit embarrassed, he wiped it away and mumbled, "Wanker."

It would have been better if he had friends and maybe a girlfriend, but it was too hard to open himself up to people when he didn't even know who he was. It’s not like he never had the opportunity to make friends. William had received advances from women, and his co-workers had tried to befriend him on more than one occasion, but he just couldn't do it. He tried, but it was like something was holding him back. It could have been a subconscious effort on his part trying to protect himself, or it could just be that he was bleeding wanker. He didn't know. Once a few months back he put in a conscious effort into making friends with a few of the guys from the site. He went to a bar with them and even ordered a drink. But as he sat there watching people laugh, connect, and just enjoying themselves he felt isolated and alone. The feeling freaked him out so much he almost had a panic attack. He had made a quick, rather unbelievable excuse, and literally ran out of the place. His co-workers had basically avoided him ever since. It could also be the fact that he looked like utter crap. He didn't really sleep, and had to force himself to eat just so he wouldn't collapse on the job. It was a downward spiral that was coming ever closer to the hard cement at the end.

William sat in bed contemplating the farce that was his life. He knew that he should focus on the happier things, but it was hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel, while you were being buried by falling debris.

Bored by the ceiling, William rolled to his side and stared at the table next to his bed. Sitting on that table was the passport. One British passport, and that was all that proved his existence in the world. No friends or family, just a passport....and a black leather duster. But who knows what that was all about. That brought up as many questions as the bleached hair.

His mind started running again. Okay, I know two things. I'm British, and was obviously a punk rocker. Wow, that was a long list. I'm so deep. Bloody Hell.

Maybe he needed a change. Maybe he should ask his boss at the construction site if he knew of any jobs somewhere else. Los Angeles was getting old. He looked at the clock again. 4:10. Joy. Three more hours till it was time to punch the time clock.

William laid in bed for a few more hours, before he got up to get ready for work. As he got ready to take a shower, he looked down at his body. It never ceased to amaze him the amount of scars he had. There was one on his left side that looked like someone had stabbed him with a large knife, and there were others that just made it look like he had led a rather violent life. And the fact that he woke up in an alley covered in blood just cemented that idea. With a sigh, he stepped into the shower to get ready for another day.

After forcing himself to eat a banana and finishing the rest of his morning routine, he left for work. Once he hit the sidewalk, he paused like he did every morning. He couldn't get enough of the early morning sunshine. He didn't know why, but it made him feel so alive. William smiled, some things about this life weren't so bad after all. While he was standing there enjoying the sun, he flashed back to the idea he had earlier that morning. It’s what he needed to do. William decided right then that he was leaving LA. He needed a fresh start. Someplace where he hadn't been. Someplace where he could start his life over. The hell with knowing about his past, he just needed a future.

Chapter 2

William reached the construction site in record time. He couldn't remember the last time he had been in such a good mood. It felt slightly weird and completely foreign. Being able to finally make an important decision about his life was doing wonders for his psyche. He really should have done it earlier. Walking up to the office was a little nerve-wracking. He got along with his boss just fine so there shouldn’t be a problem, but Bob wasn't exactly the sort of person to go out of his way to help someone. William was a good worker and was always on time. Yeah, he was a little sluggish some days, but lack of sleep does that to a person. He stood in front of the door trying to gather enough courage and strength of mind to talk to Bob. Lately he had been feeling skittish, almost like he was holding something back. He couldn't really place the feeling, but what else was new.

"Are you coming in or what?" Bob yelled from inside the trailer

Startled, William quickly opened the door and walked to the back cubicle where Bob's desk was located.

"Um...Bob? Can I ask you something?"

"That's why you’re here isn't it?"

William suddenly felt the need to get extremely snarky. He always felt that way around Bob, but he pushed the feeling down and instead concentrated on playing peon.

"I was wondering if you have any connections outside of Los Angeles. I need to get out of here, but I'll need a job wherever I end up. Could you help me with that?"

"Why? You on the run from the law or something?"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, William shook his head and explained the situation to him.

"No, I just don't want to live here anymore. I feel stifled and need something new."

Bob gave him a probing look, "This is about that amnesia stuff, huh?"

"Sort of"

"Well, I do have one idea."

"Really? What is it?"

"I know this guy who has set up his own business in Las Vegas. He used to work for me in Sunnydale. He’s doing pretty well. Lately, there has been a huge housing boom in Vegas, so he's always hiring new guys. I'll give him a call and tell him you’re on your way."

William resisted the urge to dance around, "That's brilliant! I don't think I can thank you enough!"

"No problem, Shaw. You've been a good worker, so I'll hate to lose you, but I understand. Now get out and start working. I'll be out later today to give you his contact information."

Giving Bob a huge smile, William quickly turned around and walked out the door. Bob better not change his mind, because this was exactly what he needed. He would go to Las Vegas and start fresh. He could make friends, get an apartment, save some money, and maybe even get a girlfriend. Things were starting to look up; maybe life wasn't so bad after all.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

William tried his hardest to hold on to that euphoric feeling, but it wore off about an hour later. Throughout the day while he was sheet-rocking the interior rooms of the building, William continued to remind himself about where he was going and what he would be doing. Despite his natural inclination to brood and frown, he found himself smiling throughout the day. It was a nice feeling. His co-workers noticed William's change of mood as well. They kept staring at him and talking to themselves. It was as weird for them as it was for William.

William was feeling so good, that at lunch he even joined the group he had been working with at thepicnic table.

"Hiya mates, mind if I join you?"

They all turned and stared at him, not quite sure what to say to the reclusive man they had worked with for the past year. Realizing how rare it was for William to be friendly and approachable, one of the men quickly spoke up, "Sure, Will! Scoot over, Jose and make some room."

William thanked them and sat down next to Jose. "I appreciate it."

They all turned back to the conversations they had been having, a few of them inviting William to join in. He politely listened in, not really commenting. He found himself extremely hungry, for once, and was glad that he had brought something for lunch. After he inhaled hispeanut buttersandwich, he sat there listening to the conversation and wishing he had brought some chips or something. It felt good to be around people. For once he didn't feel stifled or nervous; surprisingly, he was almost disappointed when the lunch hour was over.

While he was getting ready to leave for the day, Bob walked up to him and held out a piece of paper. William quickly wiped his hands on his jeans and took it.

"Here's the name of the guy, and the address of his site. He'll be expecting you in a few days. I figured you'd be ready to leave, so I waived the whole two-weeks notice thing."

"Thanks, Bob. This is just perfect. I can't remember the last time someone was this nice to me."

"Probably last year when I gave you a job."

William chuckled, "Yeah, still surprised you did that, when all I had was a passport."

"What can I say, I'm a softie. You tell anyone, I’ll hunt you down."

"Your secret's safe with me."

Bob slapped him on the back, "You’re a good kid, Shaw. Don't worry so much, it'll all come together for you."

William watched as he turned around and walked back to the trailer. As annoying as his boss could be, he’d really lucked out when he’d met Bob. It had made this last year a little more bearable. He looked down at the paper, and it suddenly hit him. The huge step that he was taking. Grinning, he tucked the address into his front pocket and finished putting his tools away. He waved goodbye to a few of the guys that were still there and walked back to his apartment.

William reached his apartment in record time and flew up the stairs. He didn't have much in the way of material possessions: Just some clothes, that leather duster, a TV, and somesecond handfurniture. He knew that he was making a rash decision, but he didn't care. William quickly wrote a note for the landlord that explained the situation, and telling him that he could keep the deposit. He felt a little bad for breaking the lease and leaving the furniture, but he didn't have time to get rid of it and honestly, he didn’t really care.

He threw his clothes, a few books, and the duster into an old duffle bag. After zipping it up and slipping on a sweatshirt, he dropped his keys and the note in an envelope and headed out the door. William put the envelope in the rent drop-box and started walking towards the bus depot. He felt like he was heading toward something big and important. It sounded melodramatic, even to his own mind, but the idea to get out of LA had saved him and given him a sort of direction and purpose to his life. It was bloody brilliant.

Chapter 3

After buying his bus ticket, he still had about $160 in his pocket, just enough to afford the essentials once he arrived in Las Vegas. As he sat in the terminal waiting to board his bus, his mind drifted to the events of the past year.

He woke up in an alley covered in blood and laying in a puddle of dirty rainwater. The smell of garbage and the sounds of the rats in the dumpster next to him were overwhelming. Every sense seemed to be magnified. His breath was heavy in his chest, the sun too bright in his eyes. The world itself seemed to be in slow motion. He looked up toward the sky where the sun was happily shining directly overhead. He squinted and turned his head toward the street. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. People were out walking to their various appointments or lunch dates. It looked like a normal day in the city.

He sat up quickly, and then wished he hadn't. It felt as if his brain was spinning around in his skull. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. He promptly turned to the side and threw up.

Another pleasant smell added to the plethora of odors assailing his nose. He bent over and held his head, trying to get his head to stop spinning while at the same time trying to get his bearings. When he felt that he could finally stand up without immediately falling over again, he grabbed the side of the dumpster and hauled himself up. As he familiarized himself with the vertical world again, he began to pay more attention to his surroundings. There appeared to be scorch marks on the wall, making it look like someone went to town with a flamethrower. How would he know what that was? He shook his head . . .which was a bad move, a very bad move. He grabbed onto the edge of the dumpster, clutching it so hard his knuckles turned bone white. He took a deep breath and started moving towards the entrance of the alley. As he reached the opening, he saw what looked like a hand underneath a pile of crumpled cardboard. He didn't dare investigate further.

He started to move on but stopped. What if it was someone he knew? As he was contemplating the right course of action, something twisted in his stomach. Wait. Something wasn't right. Where am I? Who am I? He started to hyperventilate. He couldn't remember who he was. What the hell was going on? He was wet, dirty, and didn't know who he was. He didn't know who he was. He didn’t know who he was. This same sentence kept repeating over and over in his head. Choose another mantra, buddy. Before this revelation could overwhelm him, he shut it away. Plenty of time to act like a wanker later. He shoved everything else to the back of his brain, as a sense of self-preservation kicked in. He needed a place to go, he needed food, and he really needed to get cleaned up.

He looked down at the hand again. He really should look. Chances were that he knew him. What are the chances of two people being either unconscious or dead in the same alley? He slowly cleared the rubble away from the body. It was a man. A black man. He reached down and tried for a pulse. The man was dead. As he stared down at the body, he had a fleeting moment of recognition and sadness. He quickly stood up. This was too much. He didn't know what to do. He glanced out into the street, and then back into the dark alley. He needed to leave. He couldn't help this man, since he really didn't know he was. He didn't have the answers to questions that the authorities would have. He gently knelt down next to the man and cleared the excess debris away from him. He brushed his hand on the dead man's shoulder and suddenly his eyes teared up, and without even realizing what he said, "Sleep well, Charlie boy." He took one last look and then stood up and hurried out into the light.

"All passengers, Bus 109 from Los Angeles to Las Vegas is now boarding" The man on the intercom calling for the boarding of his bus interrupted his reverie. He smiled. He hadn't been so excited since, well, he really couldn't remember now could he? It had been so long since something had gone right for him. William picked up his bag and walked over to the line by the bus. He stood behind an old Mexican woman who had knitting needles clutched in her hand.

Before he sat down, he shoved his bag into the luggage racks above his seat. He slid into a window seat and got comfortable. It was going to be a long drive. Fifteen minutes later the bus pulled out of the loading area and onto the freeway.

As he stared out the window his mind returned those first moments a year ago.

After left the alley, he was so confused.. He wandered aimlessly down the sidewalk. People gave him a wide berth and gave him nervous looks. After a few blocks, he started noticing this behavior. He realized that he must look horrible, so he quickly looked for the next building that would have a public bathroom.

The next building turned out to be a Burger King. He quickly slipped in the door and walked down the hall to the bathroom. It was the lunchtime rush so he expected the place to be busy but as he looked around, he found the bathroom completely empty.

He slowly walked over to the sink. He didn't know what he was going to see or what to expect. Hell, he didn't even know what he looked like. It was pathetic, really. He reached the sink and looked up into the mirror.


"Holy Fuck!"

He couldn't help it. He was surprised he didn't get arrested walking down the street. He looked like he belonged in one of those slasher movies, and not as one of the victims. He had bleached hair that was sticking up wildly all over his head. Well, where it wasn't matted from the filth and blood from the alley. His face was covered in the same. He had a large cut underneath his left eye that was crusted with dried blood. He started to inspect the rest of his body, but couldn't help looking up at the mirror every few seconds. His own face was so alien to him. "Blue eyes, I have blue eyes," he mumbled
to himself. He quickly stripped the leather duster off. "I'll investigate you, later," he told it, as he draped it over the neighboring sink. He grabbed a handful of paper towels out of the dispenser and turned on the water. When the water turned warm, he started washing his face and hair. Well, as good as one can with hand soap and a sink in a public restroom.

Ten minutes later he was relatively clean and feeling marginally better. At least his hair didn't resemble a creature from a horror movie any longer. He started wiping the blood and water off the sink just as someone walked into the bathroom. Taking that as his cue to leave, he threw the sodden towels away and grabbed the leather coat and walked out of the bathroom and into the dining area and sat down in a booth. He dragged the coat up on the table and started searching the pockets. The first pocket he
searched turned up a half empty pack of cigarettes, a hot pink Bic lighter, and a quarter. The second pocket had a wooden stake. "Well, that was helpful," the man groaned. He stuffed the items back into the pockets and put the jacket back on. As he was putting his left arm in the sleeve he brushed against a small bulge on the inside. Struggling to control his excitement, he tore the jacket off again and rummaged inside the pocket.

"Jackpot!" The woman at the booth near his gave him an annoyed look.

He ignored her and pulled out a handful of items. A passport and a roll of money. When he saw that passport, he almost cried. He looked at it, but was afraid to open it. Like it would suddenly disappear or something. It was a British passport, which made him wonder what the hell he was doing in. . .he quickly reached over and grabbed the newspaper on the next table. ‘The Los Angeles Times’, what the hell was he doing in Los Angeles? Shaking his head he turned his attention back to the passport. He opened it up. William Shaw. It said his birth date was June 11, 1976. He looked at the year on the newspaper. . .2004. So, he was 28. The passport also showed that he was born in London. "Hello," he said to the imaginary person across from him, "My name is William, William Shaw, and I’m from London, England." He gave a short laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. William took a deep breath and let it out. Bloody hell, this whole situation made him sick.

He shook his head and took the wad of money and started counting it out. There was one hundred dollars. That was a huge relief. At least he wasn't going to starve. He gathered it back up and put the money in his pants pocket. At that moment his stomach decided to make itself known. He shoved the passport back into the coat pocket. Then he took the money back out and peeled a few bills from the roll. He stood up, shoved his arms back into the duster and walked up to the counter to order some food.

When he finished eating, William continued to sit in the booth, as he began to realize the tough situation he was in. He only knew his name and birth date, and $100 wasn't enough money to keep him going. All he wanted to do was sit there and feel sorry for himself. He was really quite distressed, but there was this small part of him that was whispering in his ear to get up and move. He needed to find a job. He needed to find somewhere to live. Both seemed to be insurmountable tasks. How would he get a job with just a passport? It wasn't like he was a citizen of the States. This was utter crap. William stared out the window wishing that he could remember who he was. Anything had to be better than this. Unless he some mass murderer or drug addict. Though he didn't feel like he was either of those things, so point for him. But then again, he did wake up in an alley covered in blood and filth, next to a dead body. So point against him. Bugger. He racked his brain trying to figure out where to go. He could always go to a homeless shelter, at least for the night. Maybe they'd have a job posting board. Yes, that’s what he would do. He’d find a shelter and start from there. Now. . . how to find out where a homeless shelter was? William quickly stood up and walked out the door. He remembered seeing a phone booth outside the Burger King.

Once out the door, he walked quickly down the sidewalk the few feet to the phone booth. He picked up the phone book and quickly found a shelter that was just a few blocks down the road. Feeling more than a little guilty, he tore out the page and put it in his pocket. He turned around and looked down the street. He felt so out of control. Like he was spinning around with no way to stop himself. He raked his fingers through his hair. He really needed a shower. First things, first; Find the shelter, then worry about hygiene. He took off down the sidewalk towards his destination.


It took about twenty minutes for him to get there, but while he was walking he realized how hot it was. He was feeling pretty uncomfortable in the huge leather jacket, but he didn't want to take it off because he didn't want to lose it or anything in the pockets. It seemed irrational, but it was all he had. The only things that tied him to the world. The jacket and its contents were the only things that proved he existed. Shaking his head to get rid of the depressing thoughts, he looked back down at the page out of the phone book and checked the address. Just a few buildings away. Once he got there he stopped and stared at the front doors. He couldn't will himself to walk into the building. For some reason, he just couldn't do it. It was like he would be admitting that everything was true. The amnesia, the blood, the alley, everything. It would be true, and he didn't know if he could handle that. Well, there was only one way to find out. He took a step forward and opened the door.

William was jolted from his thoughts as the bus pulled into the terminal in Las Vegas. He had come so far since those first few days. Sometimes it felt like it had been forever, but sometimes it felt like it was just yesterday. He quickly pushed the memories back into the recesses of his mind. There was no need to dwell on the past. It would be a waste of time because he had just arrived at the crossroads of his future.

Chapter 4

William slowly stood up. He was stiff and sore. He always tensed up in his sleep. It was like his body and subconscious was constantly preparing him for a fight. He was just naturally defensive, and while sleeping there was no way to make himself relax. William twisted his arms around and stretched out his legs, then walked down the aisle and down the stairs to the outside.

It was hot, windy, and sunburned. You could see the desert on all sides of the terminal. A few hills and freeway were the only things breaking up the monotony of sand and sagebrush, and in the distance he could see the tall buildings of the Strip. It was marvelous. It felt so different and completely new. It was open and desolated, kind of reflecting how he felt. If dirt could be a kindred spirit, then this was definitely it. The majority of the city must be behind the hills. It almost made him regret moving to a city like Las Vegas. Maybe he'd just stay long enough to earn some money and then leave and go somewhere really isolated, like Montana. That sounded nice. He didn't feel much like a people person these days. He should put out an effort to make friends and contacts, but he didn't really care anymore. Hopefully that would change once he started this new job.

He yawned and then proceeded to make his way across the asphalt to the departing city buses. When he got there, he walked immediately up to where the maps were kept, and pulled the slip of paper that Bob had given him out of his pocket to double check the destination.

William got off the bus and walked down the street looking for the work site. He was extremely nervous. He looked across the street and saw a sign that read "Harris Construction".

"Well, there it is."

He took a few deep breaths, but they weren't helping at all. The novelty and excitement of moving to Vegas and getting out of LA were starting to wear off, and the actual seriousness of the situation was starting to make itself known, but William quickly forced himself to swallow the fear and anxiety. He had to make a good impression because he really needed this. There were no other options at this point and without the job, he didn't know what he would do. He gave his head a small shake and clenched his jaw. He could do this; he was strong, he was resilient; but what he actually wanted to do was curl up in a bed, pull a sheet over his head and ignore the world. With that final thought, he stepped off the curb and ran across the street.

When he stepped through the gate, William was immediately engulfed by giant cloud of red dirt. Someone was unloading bags of cement next to the entrance, and they weren't being too careful about it. Brilliant, that was a perfect way to meet a future employer, covered in red dirt. Good thing his hair wasn't bleached anymore, it would have been pink.

William walked through the dust toward the trailer that was directly to his right on the far side of the site. He stopped in front of the stairs and paused for a minute. He really needed to get out of this habit. It was like he had to psych himself up for every little thing he did.

William knocked on the flimsy trailer door and waited for a response. He didn't have to wait long.

"Come on in! I'll be with you in a minute."

William walked in and set his bag down on the chair near the door. He was too nervous to walk around and snoop, so he stayed near the door. The same loud voice yelled from the rear of the trailer behind some filing cabinets, "Take a seat in front of the desk, I'll just be a few more minutes."

"Okay, um...thanks!" William answered. He turned to the right and located the desk on the opposite side of the room. There were a few chairs in front, so he went over and sat in the one closest to the wall. As he waited his curiosity got the better of him and he started to look at the pictures on the desk. There were three of them, all just normal sized with nothing too spectacular about them. But something just drew his hand over and he took one. It was a picture of three people. It looked recent, but he didn't know for sure. There were two women and a man. They were all smiling, though it seemed a little forced. The man in the center of the trio was dark haired and goofy-grinned. He also had a patch over his left eye. Hmm. . .accident? William then focused on the woman on the left. She had marvelous red hair and a gorgeous smile. He couldn't help but smile in response to her. He then turned his attention to the last woman. Something tugged at his memory. Something about this slight, blonde woman pulled at him. He brought his hand up and his fingers ghosted over her face.

"So, how can I help you, fine sir?" The man startled William out of thoughts, and he quickly put the picture back. As he brought his hand back towards his body, the man sat down in front of him at the desk. One mystery was solved, this was the man in the picture, and according to the nameplate in front of him, this was Alexander Harris. He looked up into the mans face, expectant, but that soon changed to anxiety and fear. The man was looking at him like he was a ghost. Like he was his worst nightmare come to life. His face had become very pale and his mouth was gaping open. It looked as if he was trying to say something, but was unable to. Deciding to take the initiative for once, William reached over the desk and offered his hand.

"Hello, I'm William Shaw. Bob, my old supervisor, was supposed to give you a call. He said you could maybe set me up with a job." The man blinked, closed his mouth, and swallowed heavily.

"I'm Xander, but you knew that already didn't you?" He said suspiciously.

"Uh. . . not really. I was coming to meet an Alexander, but I wasn’t sure what you looked like. You are Alexander Harris, arent’ you? William asked, slowly pulling his hand away in confusion.

Xander was speechless. He didn't know how to react, let alone what to say to the man sitting in front of him. He obviously wasn't the First because he’d seen him holding one of the pictures from his desk. But this thing, Spike, or whoever he was, was acting like he didn't know who he was. Well, two could play at that game.

"I'm sorry, I’m being rude. I've had a weird day and my brain has disappeared. Let me introduce myself. I'm Alexander Harris, but most people call me Xander. I'm the head honcho around here. But enough about me, let’s find out more about you."

This Alexander/Xander guy was weird; he was looking at him like he was lying or something. He didn't lie; at least, he didn't think he did. He hated being treated like this. He came to this place expecting a job, and from what Bob said to be treated decently. But he wasn't getting either.

"Listen, mate. I don't know what I did to you, but I'm just here because Bob said you'd help me out. I can see that clearly isn't going to happen, so I'll just take my leave. Sorry to have disturbed you." With that, William quickly stood up and walked to the door. It looked like would be heading to Montana sooner than he’d thought.

Just as he was shouldering his bag, Xander called out to him. "Hey Spike, wait a minute."

William turned around, "What did you call me?"

"Spike. That is your name, isn't it?"

"Well, no. I introduced myself as William, or didn't you notice that?" He was starting to get really irritated with this wanker. It didn't occur to him that this man might possibly have known him before.

But Xander had been distracted by something and wasn’t listening at all. He had finally noticed that William, Spike, or whoever, was standing directly in the patch of sun coming through the window in the trailer door. He looked closer. It was Spike, wasn’t it? Everything about this man standing in front of him screamed Spike. Yeah, he had different hair and there was that whole breathing thing, but the scar was there, not to mention the face and the voice. This was driving him crazy. Spike was dead. Burned up dead. Gone forever out of his life dead. Big pile of dust dead! But this man in front of him was anything but dead. He was a breathing, tanned. . .wait a minute, were those freckles? This was way too confusing for him. He needed to make a decision fast. He could let this man walk out that door, and pretend he never met him, or he could hire him and keep an eye on him until he figured out who he was and what he was doing here. He had finally gotten tired of the super-hero lifestyle, which was why he was in Vegas building houses, and not out protecting the world from the next big evil, but once a Scooby, always a Scooby.

Just as the man was walking out the door he called out, "William, wait! I'm sorry. You just caught me at a really bad time, and I took it out on you."

William turned around and arched an eyebrow. "Ya think?"

Xander walked up to him and held out his hand. "Let’s start over. I'm Xander Harris. Bob called me and let me know that you were coming, and I do happen to have a job for you."

William looked at him, paused, and then warily shook his hand. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Xander. Thanks for giving me a chance and letting me work here"

Xander grinned, thankful that he’d decided to stay. He really needed time to figure out what was going on. He led William back to the chair he had been sitting in and walked back around the desk and sat down. He looked over at William, who was trying unconvincingly to act nonchalant, instead of pissed. He needed to test a theory. No way would Spike be able to look at Buffy and not have even a spark of recognition.

"So William, I noticed you looking at my pictures..."

"Yeah, nice birds you got there."

"That's my best-friends BUFFY and Willow." He hoped that wasn't too obvious. But there wasn’t even the tiniest flicker of recognition at either name.

"Odd names. They hippy types?"

Xander scrambled at what to say. He was totally out of his element. How do you react to a situation like this? So he would rely on the age-old conversation starter.

"So, where you from William?"

"LA?"

"That a question?" Xander was starting to become really intrigued, especially now that William was starting to look like a scared rabbit.

"Did Bob tell you anything about me when you talked?" William asked

"Nope, how about you fill me in?" Not wanting to scare him off, he added, "So that we can get your information, then you can start swinging that hammer."

With a huge sigh, William started in on the tragic story that was his life. "I don't know where I'm from. I assume I'm British, for obvious reasons."

"Care to elaborate?" Xander said

"Woke up in an alley in LA about a year ago. I have amnesia. I don't know who I am; I don't have family, friends, or a visa. All I have is a British passport with a name on it, which I’m assuming is me judging by the picture in it." William paused and gave Xander a confused look, "Bob really didn't tell you any of this?"

"No, not really, but it’s no big deal. Can I see your passport? Just for employment purposes."

"Sure," William reached inside his duffel and pulled out his passport and handed it over to Xander. He stared at the picture on the inside flap. It was Spike, no doubt about it. Bleached hair, pale and pasty skin, nasty smirk. Yup, it was Spike. He glanced up at William. He had an expectant look on his face. He would bolt. If Xander said anything about knowing him, he would be gone. William was scared of knowing who he was. He didn't seem to know why, but you could see it in his eyes. The man was running from something. Himself? The past? He needed to call Giles. He always knew what to do. Or should he call Buffy? He didn't know. Damn Spike, he always threw a wrench into things.

William sat there looking at Xander, waiting for the boot. Silence like this couldn't be a good sign. Just as he was about to ask for his passport back and head out, Xander cleared his throat and started talking.

"Listen William, I'll hire you. I want to help you out. Obviously you’re in need of a job, and you’re lacking in the whole document area. So you need a hook up, since you can't get a real job without papers. All I’ll need is the place your staying at, and I’ll need to make a copy of your passport for documentation. Then I'll get one of the supervisors to take you on a tour of the site, and we'll get you a hard-hat. You can start work tomorrow."

All the doubts that William had had about the job and Vegas disappeared at Xander's words. He was still suspicious about the man, but he needed the job, so he'd ignore the weirdness. Besides he'd been on edge lately, so it was probably just his imagination working overtime.

Xander stood up and handed him his passport and picked up the radio, "Hey, Joe. I have a guy here who needs to be shown around. He's going to start working on the site tomorrow"

The radio spit out an answer that was so garbled, William couldn't hear enough to make out the response. It must have been positive because Xander put it back down and took William by the shoulder and walked him toward the door.

"Feel free to leave your bag here while you get your bearings, I'll get all your information when you get back."

"Thanks Harris, I really appreciate it." Shaking off the weird feeling he got from the guy, William walked out the door to meet Joe.

After William was gone, Xander just stared at the door. It was Spike, it had to be. There was no other explanation. He needed to call Giles. It was either that or he would start tearing his hair out. Man, was his life weird.

Chapter 5

Xander stared at the phone in his hand. Giles or Buffy, Buffy or Giles. He couldn't decide. On the one hand, Buffy had obviously grieved for Spike and while he might have hated their relationship, he wasn’t blind. Well, okay, maybe he was partially blind, but that wasn’t the point. Buffy would be so happy to find out that he was alive, not to mention the violent reaction she would have if he and Giles kept this from her. But on the other hand, it was Spike. The vampire who’d hurt Buffy, the vampire that had tried to kill him, the vampire that took advantage of upset women who had been left at the alter. He knew he should be above that, but he was still bitter. Xander closed his eyes and tried to come to terms with his feelings toward the vampire. He tried to think positive thoughts. Spike had saved the world. Spike had averted the apocalypse. Unfortunately, it was always easier to feel the Spike love when said vampire was dead. Now he wasn’t. He groaned. This was a lot easier when Spike was a vampire, and not a vulnerable human-type guy. Making his decision, he picked up the phone and dialed. After several rings, a familiar voice answered.

"Giles...I have some news."

"You do realize you’ve just woken me up from a profoundly good dream."

For once, Xander didn’t take the bait. "Giles, you’re not going to believe this. Are you sitting down? You need to be sitting down. While you’re at it, grab some alcohol or something.”

"Xander, can you please just spit it out already? I want to go back to bed."

"So. . .you remember our friend Captain Peroxide, right? Well, um, he's back."

There was a pregnant pause. "Giles? Did you hear what I said? Spike is back."

Giles cleared his throat. "I know, Xander. He was working with Angel for most of last year, but he died in Los Angeles during the battle with Wolfram and Hart. I don't know how you found out, but please don't tell Buffy. I don’t think she would take it well.”

Xander gripped the phone a little harder. "Okay, I don’t know what you’re talking about and I don’t have time to go over it.”

He could hear Giles’ release of breath over the phone. Before Giles could go on about whatever he was going on about, Xander interrupted.

“Giles, I know you’re all head Watcher guy and all, but really do I need to spell it out? Spike. Is. Back. He just left my office."

"He was there in your office? But how? Why? Isn't it late in the afternoon there?"

Xander could here the bedsprings creek. If he were to guess, Giles had started to pace the floor.

"Xander, are you sure it was him? Are you sure? How do you know?”

Rubbing his hand over his face, Xander continued, “How many people do you know that look like Spike, talk with a British accent, and go by William?”

“Right, right.” Giles groaned, “Good Lord.”

"And, that’s not even the craziest thing! One, his memory is gone. . .he doesn't know who he is, and two, he's human."

Xander heard a thud, followed by a string of British curse words. "Giles! Giles? You still there?"

After what sounded like Giles fumbling with the phone, he came back on. "Its okay, I just dropped my glass of water. I think I might need to switch it for some Scotch, like you suggested. Do you mind repeating the part about Spike being human? Be more specific. How do you know it was him? Could it just be a coincidence?" Giles sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. Xander decided to butt in.

"I wouldn't have called if I thought it was just that, Giles. He looks like Spike, talks like Spike, can't remember a thing from before a year ago, which considering what you just told me-would be a pretty big coincidence, wouldn’t you say? Plus, I saw his passport. The picture on it is Spike. Black leather, bleached hair, annoying smirk, and white-hasn’t-seen-the-sun-in-a-few-hundr ed-years skin. I'm a huge fan of coincidences too, but add those together and you’ll find you come out with one giant, Spike-shaped conclusion.”

While Giles started sputtering over that bit of news, Xander picked up the picture of him with Buffy and Willow. When did they get so old? He sure didn't feel like he was 24, and this thing with Spike? Just one more thing adding to the premature grey hairs on his head.

"Xander? Are you listening to me?" Giles interrupted.

Focusing his attention back on Giles he quickly answered "Um, yeah, I’m listening. What should I do?"

"You need to keep an eye on him. Just watch him, nothing else. Don't tell anyone, especially not Buffy."

"Don't you think we should tell her, though?"

"Yes, but not until we know for sure. I already regret not letting her know that Spike was back the first time, so I don't want to get her hopes up over this news, just to dash them later."

Xander shook his head, "Giles, I need you to come here and help me. If you want to make this decision about leaving Buffy in the dark or not, then you need to be here to decide if it's Spike. It's too important for you not to be here. Besides, I don’t think I can do this myself."

With a sigh, Giles agreed. "You’re right. You will have to wait about a week, though, so that I can get my affairs in order over here. I'll have to delegate some of the more pressing matters to other watchers. But Willow will be here, so everything should be alright."

"So I’ll see you in a week then?"

"Yes" Then with a sigh, Giles added, "Isn’t there anything involving this bloody man that doesn't result in chaos and frustration?"

"I'd have to answer with a giant no for that one. If it wasn't for the fact that this guy doesn't know who he is, I'd be wondering."

With a groan, Giles continued, "Just keep an eye on him. Make sure he stays around. I'll be there in a week."

“Okay, will do, see you then. You still have the keys to the apartment, right?”

“Yes, I do. Goodbye, Xander.”

Xander hung up the phone, and let his head fall onto the desk. Why did these things continue to happen to him? Why couldn’t there be a nice surprise for a change, like a hot super-model turning up on his doorstep instead? Life just wasn’t fair.

Chapter 6

William had been on the construction site for about a week and everything seemed to be going well. He had rented a motel room, which had seen better days, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. He'd get something better once he’d saved up enough money. But for now it was going to have to do. Besides, who doesn't like orange shag carpeting and a bedspread that looked like a Muppet threw up on it? He was enjoying the job, well as much as anyone could enjoy construction. Las Vegas was a little flashy, not to mention hot and dry, but it seemed okay. Though it had only been a week, he felt like things could only get better. The only thing that was starting to disturb him was the dreams. They had always been there, but the frequency had increased. It had started his first night in Las Vegas, and he couldn’t really remember what they were about when he woke up. Nothing in the dreams was clear. They were full of images, sounds, and smells, but they were all abstract. There wasn’t a specific order to the dreams; they were just random. It frustrated him to no end, so he did what he always did, worked himself to death. Being exhausted helped keep the dreams at bay. Menial labor was extremely good for that. But try as he might, he couldn't help but dwell on the dreams as he went about his job. They distracted him, and distraction leads to 2 x 4's in the head.

With a sigh, he looked at his watch and decided that it was time for a break. He needed to clear his head before he started in on some of the more dangerous work. He walked over to the fence on the edge of the site and sat down next to a pile of bricks. William took off his hardhat and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He was so tired. He really should get up and go get some water, but he couldn't find the energy. Just as he was closing his eyes, a shadow fell over him. He looked up and Xander was standing there staring at him.

Deciding to pretend like he cared, William looked up at him and asked, "Is there something you need, Xander?"

"No, I just thought you might like some water. That, and I thought I'd come check up on you and see how you were doing."

“I’m fine," William said as he took a drink of water, "Ta mate, that hit the spot"

Xander took a step and sat down next to him, "So where you living? Are you still at that motel?

"Yeah, I gotta wait until I save up a bit more money before I can afford an apartment."

"Cool, just make sure you let me know when you have a more permanent address.”

“Will do, boss.” Spike took another drink of the water and wished that Xander would leave him alone. He hovered like a mother hen. Unfortunately, Xander continued on.

“So, I have a proposition for you, buddy o' mine. It's Friday, so let’s go out and get a beer and celebrate your week long anniversary.”

William shook his head, "I don't think so, Harris. I'm not one for company these days."

"Who cares about company? I'm talking about getting as you British call it, pissed!"

Fighting a smile, William continued making excuses, "No, I can't. Really. I'm not a people person."

Xander continued to ignore his protests and kept on talking.

"After we get off, the two of us are getting a beer and that’s final." Xander stood up and walked back towards the trailer, leaving William baffled and slightly annoyed.

After shutting the door to the trailer, Xander sat down on the chair near the door. He couldn’t believe that he just did that, but he wasn't getting any kind of clues or information about William from just watching him. The guy was a robot. He got to work at seven in the morning and worked like a madman until five. If it wasn't for the fact that William took his designated breaks and lunch he could actually qualify as a machine. Crazy. His few attempts at starting a conversation with William while working was about as successful as talking to a tree, but then the tree would probably be more responsive.

Thank goodness Giles was coming on Sunday. This whole Spike thing was driving him insane. And tonight was going to be hard, since he wasn't the most suave guy around. He didn't want to make William suspicious, so he'd have to settle for the next best thing, getting him drunk. Xander stood up and walked over to his desk. He had a few blue prints to check over. He pulled them out and started to work, but his eyes kept on roaming to the pictures on his desk. . .one in particular. It was a picture of Anya, from before the wedding. He had been goofing off with one of the a href"disposable20cameras" onmouseover"window.status'disposable cameras'; return true;" onmouseout"window.status''; return true;">disposable cameras /a> that they were going to use for the reception. He picked up the photograph, looking at it more closely. He had caught her in a genuine moment of happiness, her face bright with laughter. It was beautiful. He had kept it in his wallet ever since he’d gotten it developed after the wedding that wasn't. It was the only one he had of her. Damn he regretted a lot of things. With a sigh, he put the picture down and returned to work.

After Xander left, William continued to sit by the fence. The last time he tried having a beer with work buddies, it had ended disastrously. He ended up running out of the bar, literally. He leaned his head back against the a href"chain20link20fence" onmouseover"window.status'chain link fence'; return true;" onmouseout"window.status''; return true;">chain link fence /a>. William knew that it had only been a week since he arrived in Vegas, but he had foolishly thought that everything would become perfect when he started his life here. It had been an idiotic idea, but he had embraced it full force. If it weren’t for the dreams....

Now he was stuck in Vegas with the same kind of job, with the same depressed feelings. The only difference was that his boss was out of his gourd. He took a final swallow of his water, grimacing at the lukewarm mess it had turned in to. He hauled himself up, pulled on the yellow, plastic hat that seemed to define his life and set off to work.

The sun had begun its descent and William was trying to slip out before Xander could find him. He quickly put up his tools and hat, and ran out the front entrance.

"Oh, bloody hell."

Xander was waiting right in front of him parked near the curb. He leaned out the window of his car and yelled, "Caught you! You thought you were going to escape didn't you? Leave it to the Xan-man to thwart the evil blood-suckers plan!"

William rolled his eyes. "Ha bloody ha, and what’s with the evil blood-sucker thing? Were did you come up with that interesting nickname?”

Realizing his slip, Xander hurriedly brushed right past it.. "Um...get in! We're getting smashed tonight!"

William grudgingly opened the door and threw himself into the seat. "You’re bloody annoying, you know that?"

"Not as annoying as I'm going to be...Wait, that was kind of insulting to me. . ."

William started laughing, as Xander started the car and headed towards the bar.

A few hours and many bottles of beer later, the two men were in extremely high spirits. Xander was telling him about a date he had when he first moved to Vegas.

"It was horrible, man. The woman, well, she wasn't a woman. How was I supposed to know she was a man? She looked good to me, and it wasn't like he...she…or whatever was taller than me. I didn't find out until I ran into a friend of mine at the restaurant we were at. He thankfully pointed it out, and then I ran for the hills."

Wiping tears of mirth out of his eyes, William took another drink. "Bloody hell mate, that was some rotten luck."

"Tell me about it, I haven’t had a date since. I've been too chicken. That scared me to death. What if I hadn't run into my friend?" He shivered thinking of his narrow escape.

William burst out laughing again, then immediately sobered up, "Listen, Xander. I just want to thank you for making me come out tonight. You’re an odd sort, but I can't remember the last time I laughed this hard. . .or at all, actually."

Xander slugged him on the shoulder, "No prob, man."

They both looked down and stared into their drinks. The conversation having abruptly switched over to an awkward silence. Xander turned and looked over at him trying to work up enough courage to ask him about losing his memory. He didn’t want to make William uncomfortable or upset. He was actually starting to like the guy.

"William, uh, I’m a tad curious about what happened to you. You mind telling me?"

William turned red and took a pull of his beer. "I don't think so"

"Come on, have you ever really even told anyone about it? It could be good for you. Get it all out.”

"Xander, please don't make me do this. Just leave it alone."

He didn't know what to say, and he didn't want to push to hard and scare him off. He finally just flew with what his gut said and broached the subject once more. "I think you need to come clean, so if you make me pull the employer card I will. Please William, just tell me. I promise, it stays between you and me."

He didn't know if it was the five beers he had drunk, or if it was just because he was so tired of holding it in and feeling alone and isolated, but William finally decided to let it out. "Harris, you have to promise not to tell anyone. I don't know what half of what I'm going to tell you means, so please just hear me out first before jumping to conclusions."

"Okay, no problem. Do you need another drink or anything?"

"No, um. . .I don't know how or where to start."

"Wherever you want to, just let it flow. If it helps, pretend that I'm not even here."

“Okay, well. . .” Taking a deep breath, William readied himself for reliving one of the earliest memories that he had. "The first thing I remember is waking up in an alley in LA. I was covered in blood..."

An hour later and the story was done. The combination of alcohol and memories had nearly brought William to tears. Telling Xander about the past year had brought it all back to the front of his mind. He hadn't realized how far he had pushed the memories of those first few days away, and how raw his emotions still were. Now they were all pushing at him and pulling at him. He felt like he was about to explode in a thousand pieces. He put his head down on the table and tried to choke back the tears.

Xander was in shock. He didn't know what to say. Why did he make Spike open up to him? He couldn't remember, maybe someone could remind him. He felt sympathy for the man sitting in front of him, but was so confused by the situation, he didn't know how to respond. Shaking himself out of his funk, he stood up and walked around the table to William.

"Hey man, let’s get you home."

William let himself be pulled up and then leaned against Xander's shoulder as they walked toward the door. He couldn't seem to stand up straight. Must have been the booze. He knew he'd regret drinking when he woke up in the morning. The hangover was surely going to kill him. All he wanted to do was go home and go to sleep. Maybe the dreams would stay away for once.

"Just get me a cab, please. I'll find my own way home."

"Nope, can't let you go off all by your lonesome. You’re not the big bad Spike anymore."

"What the hell are you talking about, Harris? Who is Spike and why do you keep saying his name?"

"Um, I’m drunk too. . .don't listen to me because I don't even know what I'm talking about."

By the time they reached the car, William was half asleep. The alcohol and emotions had taken their toll. Xander helped him into the passenger seat of the car, and walked around to the driver’s side. He hadn't drunk as much as William had, so he was feeling okay to drive home, but he didn't know if he'd make it to William’s.

"Hey, Will, do you mind sleeping on my couch? It'll probably be safer for the both of us if I don't try to find your motel in my condition."

"Hmph"

"I'll take that as a yes"

With that, Xander shifted the car into gear and headed towards his apartment.

Chapter 7

He was awoken by an absurdly bright ray of sunshine shining through a crack in the curtains and right into his eyes. With a groan, he pulled the pillow out from underneath him and put it over his head. That’s it, he was never going on a drinking binge again. He felt like utter crap. Just as he was drifting back to sleep he heard some keys in the lock. He sat up as someone opened the door. Well it definitely wasn't Xander, unless he had decided to dye his hair, wear a suit, and age about thirty years.

He stood up, and then his instincts took over and he promptly sat back down again. William decided to change tactics. He cleared his throat and waited for the stranger to acknowledge him.

"Good Lord, its true!" The stranger stared at him in disbelief.

Okay, certainly not the reaction he was expecting. "Um, what’s true?"

The man set his bags on the floor, and was obviously searching for something to say. "Ah..um..that Xander has a nice apartment. I never thought I'd see the day when Xander actually had things that were adult in nature."

"Uh, okay. And you are?"

"My name is Rupert Giles, and who might you be?"

"William Shaw. I'm a friend of Xanders. We drank a little too much last night, so I crashed here."

"Well, in that case, I'm pleased to meet you"

"Likewise."

The man kept staring at William, which was starting to make him feel extremely uncomfortable. It made him feel like he was being held under a microscope and studied in minute detail. Looking at the clock, he decided to head back to the motel. It was time for lunch, and despite the splitting headache, he was feeling rather hungry. He had a package of Ramen noodles with his name on them.

William hurried and put on his shoes and then made his excuses. "Well, it was great meeting you, but I'm going to head on out. Xander is in the bedroom, I think. Tell him that I’ll see him at work on Monday."

With that, he hurried out the front door. That British guy was seriously creeping him out.

"Xander! Xander! Wake up!"

"Mmph...mom...."

Giles gave a sigh of disgust, bent over and picked up one of Xander's a href"work20boots" onmouseover"window.status'work boots'; return true;" onmouseout"window.status''; return true;">work boots /a>. He contemplated the damage the shoe would cause, grinned and then tossed it at Xander's head. Unfortunately, he missed and it hit him in the chest, but he still got a rather spectacular reaction.

"What the Hell?!?" Xander shot out of bed, scrambling for something. An axe, a sword, anything. . .hell, even a spoon would work. After he’d calmed down and realized that nothing was about to tear his throat out, Xander turned around and noticed Giles standing there trying to hold back his laughter. It wasn’t a very good attempt. Xander gave him a dirty look.

"I thought you weren't getting in until tomorrow."

Taking a deep breath and getting his voice under control, Giles explained. " I caught an earlier flight out, and I must say, that was the hardest I have laughed in a long time."

"I've been hearing that a lot lately." Xander turned around and reached for the glass of water that was on the a href"night20stand" onmouseover"window.status'night stand'; return true;" onmouseout"window.status''; return true;">night stand /a>. Thankfully, he didn't really feel hung over. Suddenly remembering who had crashed on his couch, he reeled around and started toward the living room.

"Spike! . . .I mean William! Did you see him? Is he still out there?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I think I startled him into leaving, though. I don't think he looked too comfortable to begin with. I'm sure waking up in a strange place will do that to you. But he did say that he'd see you at work on Monday."

Looking back at Giles, Xander breathed a sigh of relief. " Good, I was worried for a moment."

"It really is quite remarkable. The resemblance, I mean. It was Spike, yet it wasn’t. I don’t think I made a very good impression. I ended up standing there like a statue. He probably thought I was quite odd."

"It's okay, Giles, you are odd, but if it makes you feel any better, he thinks I’m off my bird, whatever that means."

Giles was impatient. He wanted to know what was going on, and so far all he had found out was that William looked like Spike. He started to question Xander, "Have you learned anything about how he came to be here or, if indeed he is Spike, why he's alive?"

"Hold your horses, G-man. Let me take a shower and wake up a bit, and then I'll give you the low-down on Mr. Mysterious."

"Oh right, sorry about that. I guess I can wait for a few minutes. Go get ready, I assume you have coffee or tea or something?”

Searching for a towel, Xander answered over his shoulder, “Um, yeah, its somewhere in the cupboards, help yourself."

Giles rolled his eyes and started toward the door, "Oh and Xander, can you please act your age and quit using names for me that you created back in Sunnydale."

With his trademark smart-ass grin he turned back and nodded."Whatever you say, G-man."

Giles groaned and closed the door behind him.

About half an hour later, Xander walked out of his room holding a piece of paper. He walked up to Giles and handed it to him. This is "William's" passport. I made a copy of it."

Giles took it and studied it closely. It was definitely Spike. No one could replicate that smirk. He compared the picture and his knowledge of Spike to the mental image of the man he had met briefly that morning. This William seemed so unsure, so cautious. Giles tried to pinpoint the exact feeling he got from the man. William reminded him of certain kids in school when he was a librarian. The type of children that came and chose books about poetry and quantum physics, and reviled any sort of social interaction. The loners. So completely un-Spike like. Even when he had the soul, Spike had always sought out human contact. Giles searched through his memories from that last year in Sunnydale. No, now that he thought about it, he was wrong. During that last year in Sunnydale, when he had been paying the vampire any attention, Spike had been severely withdrawn. The only person Spike had talked to at any length had been Buffy. Oh, he didn’t know what he thought. This was so complicated. Spike was so complicated.

Ever since he had found out what Spike had done down in the Hellmouth, what his part had been, he had regretted many of his opinions and actions concerning Spike. As a result of his refusal to acknowledge Spike’s soul, he lost out on the opportunity to learn and study the vampire. With the time and distance that now separated his sojourn in Sunnydale, he was able to look back on Spike with an objective eye. He should have talked with him and learned from him. Any vampire that would go against his nature and willingly change himself for the better was nothing short of spectacular. . .not to mention unheard of. Why he didn’t see that then, he’d never know. Spike had proven him wrong, and he was sorry that he hadn’t believed Buffy. Well, he now had the opportunity to right the wrongs he had done. He looked back up at Xander, "Tell me everything you know."

"Well, to make a long story short, he woke up in an alley covered in blood. Somehow found a job at a construction job, which was incidently run by my old boss from Sunnydale. After a year he decided he wanted to start over someplace new. His boss called me and I hooked him up. Then I called you. That’s about the extent of it. Oh, and he can't remember a damn thing. Amnesia or something like that."

"And how is he taking it?"

"Pretty bad. Last night, when I finally got him to open up about it, I noticed three things about him. He's scared, confused, and angry. Which is understandable, I'd probably freak too."

"You've talked to him, do you think that he is Spike?"

"That's the weird thing. I don't think he is, but every now and then you might see a flash of something Spike-like."

"If he is Spike, then there is a possibility that he might have reverted to his base personality. Without the experiences of Spike to help form his character..." Giles trailed off. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "This is too confusing, even for me."

"Hear, hear. You don’t have to tell me twice."

"I need to talk to him. Do you think we could go and find him?"

"I don't think so Giles. William opening up to me was a fluke. Well, not so much a fluke as an event preceded by massive consumption of fine hops. So I highly doubt he'll be wanting to spill his guts to you on the spur of the moment."

"That's not what I meant Xander. I just want to talk with him, so that I can get a sense of who or what he is. Not that I don't trust your opinion, I just need to start somewhere."

Xander tried to think of something that they could do without seeming obvious. He already felt like he was starting to push his luck where William was concerned. Maybe they should just fall back on the normal, getting to know you event. Hopefully Giles would agree. "How about we go out to eat Sunday? I'll go over and invite him later tonight."

"That sounds like a good idea. I don’t know how else we’d do it. So it’s certainly better than nothing. Now, do you mind if I borrow your couch? I'm completely knackered."

"Have at it, I have errands to run today anyways. I also have to go see Spike."

Giles sank into the a href"sofa20cushions" onmouseover"window.status'sofa cushions'; return true;" onmouseout"window.status''; return true;">sofa cushions /a>, with a sigh of relief. "Bloody airplanes..."

For the next few minutes Xander puttered around the apartment getting ready, finally sitting down on the chair to tie his shoes. To Giles, it seemed as if he were stalling. Xander wanted to ask him something, but at the rate he was going, Giles would never know what. Sighing, he sat back up and put thoughts of sleep aside.

"Xander, what is it?"

"Um...what do we do about Buffy?"

"What about her?"

"She needs to know. We can't keep this from her, it's too important."

"I'd like to keep this to ourselves, but you’re right. I just don't want to put her in the middle of something like this again. Not until we have something concrete to tell her."

"Giles, she dated the freaking Immortal. No matter what we do she's going to be attracted to the freaks. Besides, you know she loved him."

Giles looked confused, "Who? The Immortal? I surely hope not!"

"You know for someone who is known as the brains of this outfit, you can be remarkably thick sometimes. You know he's my least favorite person. . ., well one of my least favorite people,” he corrected himself, thinking of his other souled vampire buddy, “But she loved Spike. So bottom line, we're calling her after you talk to Spike. She deserves that much."

For a few moments, Giles just sat there looking at his hands. "Every now and then, you manage to surprise me, Xander Harris." He paused and then added, "We'll call Buffy, after I talk with Spike."

Xander smiled and then got up and finished getting ready. Giles sighed and then collapsed back on the couch. Maybe he'd get to finally rest once he died. Maybe, just maybe, peace would be within his grasp then.

The front door slammed with a loud bang as Xander finally went out.

Then again, probably not.

Chapter 8

William stood in front of the microwave sipping a Big Gulp. This was his idea of Nirvana, Ramen Noodles and a Coke. After all the emotional upheaval he’d experienced this week, he deserved some time to just be lazy. He took the noodles out of the microwave, settled down on the bed and switched on the TV. He loved television; in fact, it was becoming apparant to him that he would watch pretty much anything. Well, everything except soap opera's. For some reason they just gave him a weird feeling. Deciding for once to not think about his problems, he instead focused on some weird snake-hunter show on Animal Planet. Bloody hell, these idiots were entertaining to watch. Though, it would be a damn site more interesting if one of the poncy animal guys would get himself bitten once in a while.

About an hour later, the stupid animal-lovers in khakis were starting to bug him. Using the truly ancient remote that came with the TV, he turned it off and flipped over onto his back on the bed. He had tried to forget about the talk he’d had with Xander, but try as he might, he just couldn't. The whole night had been almost cathartic for him. He felt like all the stress and depression that he’d experienced with the whole amnesia thing had been expunged a little bit. It wasn't all gone, though. The wrongness of the situation, the feeling that he should be somewhere or remember something was still there, but it wasn’t weighing him down anymore. He felt kind of free. He shouldn’t be so hard on Harris; the whole talking thing really had helped him. Maybe Vegas would be good for him after all. With that final thought he decided that he hadn't fully recovered from his hangover, so he grabbed his pillow, shoved it under his head and fell asleep.

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thump thump, thump thump

He was helping Xander hammer a sheet of wood up against a window. He was in a house that he didn't recognize, but it felt like home. It was a nice feeling. He started to look around the house, but Xander turned to him and started talking.

"You know I don't like you, right?"

It was him answering Xander, yet it wasn't. "I think you might have mentioned it once or twice."

"And I'll never admit to saying this, but the soul thing. It was a good choice."

He was embarrassed by Xander's comment. He wanted to snark back and say something rude. Anything to cover the pleasure he was feeling at those words. He prepared to say something particularly vial, but then stopped himself. He wasn't that type of person anymore.

thump thump thump thump

Xander had turned back to the window and was going to town with the hammer and nails.

thump thump thump thump

The sound was getting really loud and annoying, "Bloody Hell, Xander. Stop the damn hammering."

Xander turned to him and started yelling, "Open the door William, it's 3 in the afternoon! Let me in!!"

He woke up. What the hell was that? He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the weird and disorienting feelings that flowed around him. That dream felt so real, like it had actually happened or something.

"William!! Open the damn door!!"

Realizing that Xander really was there, he stumbled over and opened the door. He winced at the bright sunlight, and quickly motioned Xander in.

"Bloody Hell, Harris. Get in quick. It's too bright."

Xander walked in, while William closed the door. William turned around and gave Xander a rather dirty look.

"William, if looks could kill..."

"I was asleep"

Xander took in his disheveled hair, wrinkled clothes, and blood shot eyes, "Looks like you need it too," He tried to stifle his laughter, but failed miserably.

William rolled his eyes, and walked over to the sink. He ran some water and started to wash his face. When he had finished, he felt much better and ready to be conversational. He threw the towel down on the counter and turned to face Xander.

"What do you want?"

"My friend and I are going to lunch tomorrow, wanna come?"

"Not really"

"Good, we'll pick you up tomorrow at 1. Be ready."

Annoyed, William said, “Harris, you really know how to ruin a bloke’s good mood.”

“What? It’s a free lunch, and you get to get out of this room.”

William was still a little thrown off by his dream, so he quickly agreed to go. Anything to get Xander out of the room. “Whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

"Good. You won’t regret it. Have a good rest of the day and I’ll see you tomorrow!" With that Xander opened the door and went on his way.

William sat down on the bed and stared at the closed door. That man was weird and entirely too cheerful. And he thought he had issues. Rubbing his eyes, William lay down and stretched out. The dream. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. What did it mean? Why now? It had been so clear and for once he could actually remember everything about it. Like the house. It had been so familiar. He had been there before, he was certain of it. Being in that house made him feel. . .complete? The conversation with Xander had seemed familiar too. It was almost like a memory. But why would Xander be in a memory? He only just met him last week. The other thing that bothered him was the actual conversation they had. What was Xander saying about a soul? What did that mean? Maybe it was just leftover alcohol hang over stuff. But it seemed so real. William groaned and decided to forget about it for now. He was too worn out to analyze an odd dream, so he decided to go back to sleep. Maybe he’d go see a movie after his nap. Escapism was always a good thing.

Chapter 9

William looked over at the clock. It was 12:30. It was almost time for him to go and be social with Xander and his friend, probably that British guy that he’d met on Saturday morning. William sighed. He really wasn't in the mood for people today. Actually, he felt like he had reached his social quota. He had gone to a bar with Xander, and had even begun talking to his co-workers. So he didn't need to go, not really and it's not like Harris could fire him for skipping out. Besides, he was getting a little put off by the man. He pushed to hard. Always asking after him and inviting him places, and asking about his past and his life. Making his final decision, William walked over to the table and quickly wrote a note telling Xander that he’d changed his mind. He then shoved the room key in his pocket and walked out the door. Before he left, he slid the note between the door and the molding. It had been a while since he had just gone out and enjoyed the sun. A walk would do him good. He could get some fresh air, avoid Harris, see some of the city, and probably die from heat stroke.

Xander and Giles arrived at William’s motel room a few minutes before 1:00. Xander knew that William would try and skip out, and by arriving early Xander hoped to catch him before he’d had a chance to take off. He reached up and knocked on the door, and waited for a response. No one answered, so he knocked a few more times. Still no answer. He decided to try a different tactic.

“Will! Open the damn door!”

Giles who up until that point had remained silent, decided to put his two cents in, “Xander, have you thought that maybe he’s not there?”

Xander stopped knocking on the door, long enough to turn around and answer Giles. “I came by yesterday and had to do the same thing. He’s probably just asleep.”

“Be that as it may, Xander, it’s probably not the best idea. Don’t you have his phone number or another way to contact him?”

Xander had the decency to look slightly abashed, “Oh, yeah. I should have thought of that.” He happened to glance down at the ground and spotted the piece of paper that William had left. He bent down and picked it up. “I wonder what this is.” Xander unfolded the paper and read it. With a loud sigh, he reread it aloud, so that Giles could hear.

“Harris. I changed my mind. William.”

Giles snorted, “Good Lord, that was Spike. Whoever this man is now, Spike is definitely still a part of him.”

Xander shoved the note inside his pocket, and started to rack his brain. They needed to come up with something that didn’t look completely obvious, so that somehow Giles could get some time around the man. With William being so uncooperative, it was becoming harder to find excuses to be around him outside of work. It didn’t make sense to Xander. Spike was always trying to find ways to be around their group back in Sunnydale, so for William to try and avoid him and Giles was hard to comprehend. This was so aggravating. He never thought that he would be putting this much effort into anything that involved Spike. Xander looked over at Giles. He would know what to do.

Giles said, “So what should we do now?”

Huh...guess not. “Well, I kind of have an idea.” Xander said. “I don’t think he’ll get suspicious, and I really think it’ll work, although my ideas are usually worse then when Lincoln suggested taking in a show, but there is always a first time, right?

Giles rolled his eyes. “Your guess is as good as mine, Xander.”

“Okay, first we’ll need to go pick up some supplies.” Spike had always been pretty observant, so they would have to try their hardest to act normal, but maybe William hadn’t inherited that particular piece of the Spike puzzle. One could only hope.

About an hour later, William got back to his motel room. He didn’t regret ditching Xander and his friend. The walk had helped clear his head and put the last week into perspective. What with the new job, new city, and his overly-enthusiastic boss, the whole week had been really odd. He now felt refreshed and ready to start a new week. Well maybe not refreshed in every sense, since he was sweating like a pig. Note to self, walks are good, but take them in the evening, not in 100 degree afternoon’s.

He slowly walked up the stairs to his room. What he needed was a cool shower and a nap. As he was unlocking the door he noticed that the note he had left was gone. Hopefully, Harris had taken the hint. William liked his solitude and Xander making him his new project was getting on his last nerve. He walked in and closed the door, then went over and turned the AC up to high. He stripped his T-shirt off and headed toward the bathroom. Just as he was about to turn on the water, someone knocked on the door.

“Oh bloody hell.” If it was Xander he was seriously going to tell him off. William stomped over to the door and yanked it open. Sure enough, it was Xander and his poncy British friend.

“Piss off!”

“Why William, is that anyway to treat the bearers of pizza and beer?” Xander countered.

Giles stared at William. Whoever William was, and despite the lack of memories, he was looking at Spike. Pissed off, ready to tear your throat out, Spike. Any lingering doubts that Giles might’ve had disappeared. He didn’t know how it had happened or even why, but it was Spike. They needed to tread with caution and understanding. Unfortunately, Xander was doing neither. He was about to blow it. Giles quickly stepped in front of Xander and stuck his hand out.

“William, my name is Rupert Giles. I believe we met yesterday. I apologize for my friend here. I fear that it is my fault that we are here. He told me that you were from London, and I was eager to talk with another Brit.”

William eyed him skeptically and willed himself to calm down. Change always made him cranky or maybe it was just Xander. He was starting to get really, really irritated with him. He wanted to tell them both off, but decided to give them one more chance to get a clue.

“I appreciate the thought, mate. Unfortunately, you caught me at a bad time. I was just about to shower.”

Only then did the two men notice his half-dressed appearance. They both had the grace to look embarrassed, but Xander still continued to press William to agree.

“Come on, Will. Free pizza! Frosty Nectar! It’s a no brainer.”

William clenched his jaw and got ready to close the door. If he needed to he’d close it in their faces. Probably not good for job security, but Xander seemed pretty thick, so he most likely wouldn’t get to offended. Before he could take any action, Giles interrupted.

“Xander, I think we might have come by at a bad time. How about we leave William and maybe I can talk to him another time.” He directed the last part to William, who was looking very relieved.

Xander finally backed down. He thought he had almost got William to agree, but Giles must know something he didn’t or maybe he had seen all that he wanted to. Either way, he quickly back peddled.

“You know what, Giles is right. Sorry about that William. How about we leave and I’ll see you at work tomorrow, okay.”

With a sigh of relief William smiled back at them. “Not to be a killjoy, but that would be great. Thanks.”

“That’s no problem, William. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

“Bye”, and before either of them could say anything more, William shut the door.

Xander and Giles just looked at each other. “Well that was abrupt.” Xander said.

“He looked pretty annoyed, so it’s no wonder.” Giles then turned around and headed back toward the car. “It’s okay, Xander. I saw everything I needed to.”

“Whatever you say, Giles. And now, we have pizza and beer to occupy our time. Yay, us.”

As soon as the door was closed, William turned around and leaned against it, thanking whoever runs the universe that they had left. He didn’t have any energy to pretend around people today. He just wanted to be by himself. He pushed himself off the door and walked back into the bathroom. Now he could take his shower.

He turned the water on as cold as he could stand it. The heat had really got to him on his walk. Cold was good. William stepped in and held back a yelp. Maybe it was too cold. He reached down to turn the hot water on, when he was hit with barrage of images. It was so sudden and so violent that he was physically pushed on the floor of the bathtub. He was in some kind of granite building. It almost looked like a tomb. He was there, wearing the duster, and counting money? Xander’s friend, Mr. Giles was also there in the background, talking to him.

William didn’t even understand what was going on, and he was trying to take everything in. He looked around the room, his gaze finally settling on where Mr. Giles was standing. It looked like he was inspecting the bier, but suddenly the man stood up and stared at him.

“I realize this is completely against your nature, but has it occurred to you that there may be a higher purpose. . .”

Then it was gone. The dream or flashback, or whatever the hell it was. It had left him drained and exhausted. It was all he could do to turn off the water. William lay gasping in the bathtub, trying to comprehend what had just occurred. Giving up, he crawled out of the bathtub and without drying off or even getting dressed, he stumbled to the bed and collapsed on to it. William reached over and wrapped the sheet around him, and before his head hit the pillow, he was asleep.

Chapter 10

As soon as they walked into the apartment, Xander flopped down on the couch. He was getting really tired of this whole Spike thing. They hadn’t gotten anywhere or discovered anything, and Giles was as clueless as he was. He was honestly starting to think that they were the wrong people to deal with this situation. They needed to call Buffy. The question was, would Giles want to follow through with his earlier decision to call her? Xander wasn’t sure. Giles had never been a member of the We-love-Spike-club. Well, it wasn’t like he had a membership card either, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that Buffy needed to be here. He looked over at Giles and sighed. They hadn’t talked much in the car on the way back from Williams’, so now was as good a time as any for him to broach the subject.

“So what did you think, Giles? Was it Spike?”

Giles sat up a little straighter in the chair across from the couch and took off his glasses. He was at a loss. “Well, Xander, I think that you were right. It is Spike, or whatever is left of Spike.”

“So where do we go from here?”

With a sigh, that was almost a groan, Giles forced out an answer. “I honestly don’t know. William obviously isn’t going to help, and I fear that anything we may do will be met with suspicion and hostility.”

Xander nodded emphatically. “We should be calling Buffy now, yes?”

“Yes, I know. As much as I don’t like it, I know. Maybe she will be able to help him without seeming too transparent.” He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. He set it on the coffee table and simply stared at it. Once he called Buffy, there was no turning back. She would come for Spike, just as she always had. Everything that he had hoped for her future would be ignored. Spike would be brought back into the fold, and oddly enough, he was alright with that.

Giles picked up the phone and dialed Buffy's number.

"So, how does it feel to be a one-month college girl?" Buffy flopped onto Dawn's bed and grabbed her pillow, then looked up at her expectantly.

Dawn arched an eyebrow, "Like you can't remember?"

"Nope. Besides, it’s like I’m giving you the mom experience! Mom's never remember what college was like."

"Whatever floats your boat, weirdo."

Buffy just smiled back at her and proceeded to snuggle deeper into the pillows. Dawn finished unpacking her bag and continued to taunt her.

"So if you’re acting out the mom role, why aren't you doing my laundry and folding my clothes? Better yet, where is my home-cooked meal?"

Suppressing a frantic look, Buffy hopped off the bed and grabbed the phone book, "Hey! How about Chinese food? You can get that spicy shrimp stuff you like!"

Dawn just rolled her eyes. She loved her sister, but sometimes all you could do was shake your head at her. Definitely a weirdo.

"Sure, but I'm in the mood for orange chicken. And get a double order!"

"Like I'd forget, Miss Piggy."

"Says the lady who ate 3 hamburgers, 2 order of fries, and a shake?"

"What?!? I was hungry! I hadn't eaten since I left England, and you know how airplane food is. Besides, eating a hamburger in California, kind of poetic, don't you think?"

"Only you would think it was poetic. So before you start espousing the virtues and beauty of ground up cow meat, order our food."

"Okay, okay!" Buffy walked over to desk and dug the phone book out from under a stack of Cosmo’sShe started flipping through the pages, when a tinny, high pitched rendition of "God Save the Queen" filled the room.

"Oh, it’s Giles! I wonder why he's calling?"

"Probably because you’re supposed to be on Council business instead of being a bum in my dorm room, and what the crap is playing on your phone?"

"It’s the British national anthem, and Giles is British, so I figured it matched. Oh, and Giles knows that I’m with you this week. I don’t have anything to do that’s work-related until Monday."

"Yay, us! But shouldn't you answer the phone?"

"Oh, yeah." Buffy opened her phone and happily answered. "Hey, Giles! How's my favorite watcher doing?"

Dawn sat on her bed and watched as Buffy talked on the phone. She was glad that her sister was happy. Buffy had seemed so lost that year after Sunnydale, but finally she had ditched The Immortal, and decided to start doing something with her life. For a while there, Dawn had wondered if Buffy’s life was going to consist entirely of buying shoes, club-hopping in Rome, and dating Eurotrash. Personally, she thought that Buffy had just been trying to escape the pain from the death of a certain vampire. It had taken the destruction of Wolfram and Hart and the death of Angel to get her on the right track. She had been shocked into action, and reminded of her calling. Angel had known what was right, and somehow his sacrifice had pushed her into action. Now she was working for Giles and the Council by helping the new slayers come to terms with their calling and getting them situated and acclimatized. It agreed with her. Dawn smiled indulgently at Buffy, as she wondered if there had been some mistake and she was really the older sister. She was startled out of her thoughts by Buffy. Her voice had gotten suddenly shrill.

"You’re in Vegas? Why? Is something wrong with Xander?"

Dawn got off the bed and went and stood by the desk. Buffy let out a breath, so she assumed that nothing was wrong with Xander, but then all of the color drained out of Buffy’s face and her voice got very quiet.

"What do you mean he's alive?"

Dawn quickly pulled out the chair from under the desk and gently pushed Buffy into it. She looked like she was going to faint. It kind of reminded her of when Mom had gotten sick. All shaky and pale.

"Okay. I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't argue with me, I said I'll be there. Yes, I have both addresses. I'll see you soon." And with that she closed the phone and stared at it.

"Buffy? Are you okay? What happened? Are Xander and Giles okay?"

Buffy slowly looked up at her and started to cry. Dawn quickly moved into hug her sister. After a few minutes of tears and hiccups, Buffy pulled away from her and told her what Giles had said.

"He's alive."

"Well, duh. Giles was the one on the phone, but I don't see how that warranted tears?"

"No, it's Spike. He's alive."

Dawn was dumbfounded, "You mean he survived Sunnydale?"

"No, apparently he was brought back to life, worked with Angel, died again, and is now human and working for Xander."

"What?! How?! Why didn't he come find us?"

"I don't know. I didn't let Giles finish. He tried to tell me to wait a few days to go down to Vegas, and I got mad. I forgot to ask him."

"I'm going with you."

"You can't, Dawnie, you have school."

"Screw school! It's Spike!”

"I’d love for you to be there, but you have midterms. Besides, I need to go and find out what is going on before I bring you into it.”

Dawn tried not to pout. Buffy was right, there really wasn’t any way she could go down there and still pass all of her classes. Sometimes she really hated having a life. Back in the good old days, she could have skipped school with no problem. Partly because school would’ve been cancelled due to the impending apocalypse, but who was paying attention? "Okay, but you have to promise me that you’ll call me as soon as you see him.”

“I promise.”

Dawn reached down and gave Buffy a fierce hug. She looked awful. It was like her whole world had just stopped without letting her know ahead of time. That’s it! She was carsick, or world sick. Maybe whiplash.

“Buffy, why don't you take a nap? I'll call the airlines and book a flight for you. You can leave in the morning."

She shook her head. There was no way she could wait. Spike was alive, she needed to see him. "No, you don't need to do that, and I really don't think I can sleep. I should leave as soon as possible."

"Nonsense! You’re tired, and if I know how your life works, I’m willing to bet that soap opera drama awaits you, so now it’s time for me to play the mom." Dawn pushed her back onto the bed. Buffy reluctantly stretched out.

"Bully."

"You know it."

Fifteen minutes later, Dawn had booked a flight and a rental car. She looked over at Buffy and smiled at her sleeping sister. She knew that Buffy had been exhausted. Dawn looked closer and noticed that Buffy was drooling onto her pillow. . . gross. Sometimes she surprised herself at how tolerant she was. Careful not to wake Buffy up, Dawn opened up her desk drawer. She reached deep inside the drawer, searching for something. Finally locating the elusive article she pulled it out. It was a picture of Spike. It was the only one she had of him, and somehow it had found its way in her bag before the battle with the First. It had been during the summer of no-Buffy. Bored, she had started fiddling with an old Polaroid camera she had found down in the basement. Spike had been dozing on the chair by the TV, and for once didn’t hear her coming up next to him. Before he could do anything, she had snapped the picture and run quickly up the stairs to her room. He had chased her, but she had successfully hid the picture before he could find it. Unfortunately for her, she had paid for her sin with a massive tickle attack by Spike. She had been laughing so hard, if Spike hadn’t stopped when he had, she would have peed her pants. Smiling at the memory, she let her fingers touch his face. Everything had been so bad those last few years in Sunnydale, but she had never wanted their relationship to end the way it had.

She couldn’t believe that Spike was alive. She almost didn’t want to believe it. There was no way. It must be a mistake or something. But if Giles had actually called Buffy in on it, they must be certain. Damn midterms. Buffy was going to need support, not to mention she had never gotten closure with her bleached buddy. With a sigh she grabbed her European History book and flipped it open. She had a killer test in a few days and now was as good a time as any to start studying. She opened it up, but couldn’t focus on the words on the page. Looking over at her sister, she wondered what Buffy had done in a past life to deserve all the crap she had to deal with. Dawn sighed. It was only going to get worse, before it got better. That’s just the way the Summer’s girl’s lives went.

William shoved his head under the pillow. Maybe if he ignored the alarm clock it would disappear. Peering out from the protective embrace of his cheap motel pillow, he gave the clock a dirty look. He hated mornings, and he hated having to get up and go to work. Why couldn’t he just stay in bed all day? With a final groan, William reached over and turned off the alarm. At least now he could be grumpy without the obnoxious beeping invading his thoughts. Maybe he could go back to sleep for a few more minutes. Glancing back over at the clock, William decided that wasn’t an option, since he was already running late. He really needed to get up and start getting ready. His eyes roamed over to the bathroom. To shower or not to shower, that was the question. Something clicked in his brain. The bathroom light was on. That was odd. He didn’t remember leaving it on, he must have forgotten to turn it off after. . .

The memory of last night slammed through the fog that had been clouding his mind. He turned over onto his back, pressing his face into his hands, and let the images march their way through his consciousness. For once there was no confusion. The pictures and sounds were clear and concise. Xander's friend, Mr. Giles, him in the duster, and a rather derelict room. The combination didn't make any sense. William opened his eyes and combed his fingers through his hair. This had been nothing like the dreams. For one thing, it had happened while he was awake, not to mention that it had felt real. Disturbingly so. But, Mr. Giles had been in it. He had only met the man twice, so why would he be in it? What did it mean? Why now? Why when he was just starting a new life was this happening to him? He must be going crazy. That was the only way to explain it. Maybe the shock of the cold water, coupled with being angry with Xander, had caused him to crack. He had been kind of stressed out lately, what with the relocating to Vegas and starting a new job, so maybe everything was just negatively affecting him. Yes, that's it. No need to get freaked out. He just was stressed, and had let his imagination get the better of him. He hadn't been sleeping well, either. Maybe he hadn’t been drinking enough water. It was rather hot and dry in Las Vegas, so maybe he really did have heat stroke. That was it. The walk yesterday afternoon had caused him to have some sort of weird hallucination. More water, less sun, that was the solution.

William sat up and rubbed his eyes, happy with his new found explanation. No need to dwell on the weird vision. It was easily explained away. Best to forget all about it. All thinking about it would do was stress him out further. With that final thought, William got off the bed and started to get dressed. Working hard always made it easier to forget certain aspects of his life, especially certain weird hallucinations. Thank God they were laying brick at work today. He was going to need the hard labor. He finished getting dressed and walked over to the sink and brushed his teeth. After he finished, he put the toothbrush back in it’s holder and looked up into the mirror and stared at his reflection. Even though he told himself that he wasn’t going to think about the vision anymore, he couldn’t help it. Especially what Mr. Giles had said to him. He had tried to ignore it, but he kept on hearing the man say, "Has it occurred to you that there may be a higher purpose?" What did that mean, and what the bleeding hell was happening to him? William stared at his face, taking inventory of his features, and finally focusing on his eyes. If he stared long enough, maybe he’d be able to see into his own soul. Find answers to his questions. Find out why Mr. Giles thought he had a higher purpose, or whatever the hell he had been talking about. He reached out and ran his hand over his reflection. “Who are you, William?” he whispered. He turned around suddenly and went to the dresser. Grabbing his keys and some money for lunch, he ran out the door. Maybe if he ran fast enough he'd escape his thoughts. Too bad he couldn't leave his head behind as well. That would fix the problem for sure.

Buffy stared at the steering wheel. Now that she was in Las Vegas, about to see Spike, she couldn’t move. She was almost paralyzed as the last moments she had spent with him played over and over in her head. No matter who she had dated, or who she had slept with, nothing and no one had made her feel as loved and protected as Spike had those last few nights in Sunnydale. She had been the General, she was the one who was supposed to protect everyone, but somehow Spike could make her forget all that. For those few, brief moments she was able to forget that the world was ending and that everything was falling down around them. They were together, and for once in the many years that she had known him she was okay with that. She smiled a little as she thought of the look on his face when she had asked him to sleep with her the night the others had kicked her out. Looking back on it now, that was one of the things she missed most about him. She had been bitchy and ill tempered, but still he acted as if she were the queen of the world. Happy to oblige her smallest requests. Acting as if the small crumb she threw him was the biggest banquet in the world. It was that moment that she realized that she loved him. As he carefully lay down beside her, gathering her in his arms. Everything that he was to her, her friend, her lover, her confidant..it all hit her at once. He was her everything. And then it was over. He was gone. They had saved the world once more, but this time she had to go on without him. The only way that she could cope was to lock the memories away. After Sunnydale, she didn’t think of him often. Not because she didn’t miss him, or mourn him, but because it was too painful to remember. Leaving him in those last moments, knowing that he hadn’t believed her. That he had died thinking that he was unloved and unappreciated. If she had kept those thoughts in the forefront of her mind, she wouldn’t have made it. Even now, the feelings of loss, despair, and guilt threatened to overwhelm her. It wasn’t the healthiest way of dealing with what had happened, but then she had never been the poster child of emotional stability.

She lowered her head and rested it against the wheel. No way was this going to be easy. Not only would she have to go into Slayer-Buffy mode, just to be able to emotionally deal, or not deal as the case may be. She was going to have to do it by herself. She didn’t even know what she was dealing with. Spike with no memory? How the hell was she going to pull this one off? Sometimes her world sucked.

Buffy sat up and took a deep breath. She looked in the rearview mirror and smoothed her hair. Make-up? Check. Hair? Check. Paralyzing nerves of fear and anxiety? Check. And with that, Buffy opened the car door and went in search of Xander.

William walked quickly down the street towards work, still feeling anxious and unnerved by the vision. If sweat and manual labor didn’t help him forget about it, he didn’t know what would. It’s not like he could go to a therapist and ask for help. He still didn’t know if he was actually a good person or not. The way he had woken up in the alley still made him nervous. He could just picture the look on the good doctor’s face when he told him his story. Why yes, Doctor. I did wake up next to a dead body, covered in blood, with no record of who I am! Isn’t that just neat? Won’t it make a great case story for your next article in the Journal of Extremely Looney Patients? Great, glad that I could help. He was so caught up in his thoughts of padded walls and straight jackets that he didn’t notice the blonde woman walking near him. They both turned into the entrance at the same time. William being on the inside was knocked into the chain-link fence. He quickly grabbed the top of the fence, to keep from falling down.

“Bloody hell! Watch where you’re going!”

“Oh! I’m sorry. I was distracted and I . . .” Buffy turned to face the man, and couldn’t talk. Words were gone. They had disappeared; in fact she couldn’t remember if she knew how to speak at all.

William hauled himself up and brushed his hands on his jeans. They were all scraped up and stung a bit. Daft woman couldn’t even watch where she was going. He turned his attention on to her and gave her a look. Beautiful girl. She looked familiar though. He struggled to place her. Then he remembered, she was one of the girls in Xander’s picture. One of his lady friends with the odd names. She was staring at him. With a look on her face almost identical to the one that Xander had worn, when they first met. What was with these people?

“Um…miss? Are you okay?”

Buffy just stared, trying to speak. What should she say? What should she do? It was Spike. He still had that eyebrow arch-thing. She loved that. All she wanted to do was throw her arms around his neck and kiss him until she couldn’t breathe. She wanted to tackle him to the ground and inspect him at her leisure. She needed to know that he was real. That he wasn’t just a ghost or a figment of her imagination. She really didn’t know how to do that without tempting a restraining order, so she suppressed the urge. Getting a little control back, she decided to fall back on what she had been using for years. Flirty blonde. She could get close and innocently touch him. Yeah, right. Making the decision she stepped towards him.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you! Are you okay?” She reached her hand out as she “accidentally” tripped, her hand immediately coming into contact with his chest. His solid, warm chest. His arms reflexively went out and caught her to him to prevent her from falling. Okay wrong move. If she had wanted control over herself, this was the wrong way to go about it. But for a moment, she just let herself sink into him. The first thing she noticed was he smelled the same. Whoever said smell is one of the best ways to remember, were right. His smell gave her the feeling of safety and love. It was the same feeling that she would get when she would come home after school and her mom had been baking cookies. It was home. He was her home. She was such a sap.

William looked down at the woman. She was almost snuggling him, which was odd, but not entirely uncomfortable. As he was wondering how to gently remove her, she looked up at him. As their eyes met, he lost all train of thought. There was something about those eyes, he thought as they stared up at him, large and tear-filled. Something niggled at the edge of his mind. Something about this woman and tears . . .Something. . .He shook his head. No more crazy hallucinations. His brain was obviously weak and unprepared. He was susceptible to crazy ideas and dreams, and this woman was not helping matters. William gently pushed her away and helped her regain her balance.

“Well, Miss. . .” he mentally scrambled for her name. “Uh...Buffy, I need to get to work, so I guess I’ll see you later.” He was starting to feel ill at ease around this woman, so he quickly nodded his head towards her, stepped around her and jogged into the lot. She wouldn’t stop staring at him and it made him uneasy. Besides, he had work to do and hallucinations to forget. Too bad, though, she was one hell of a looker.

Buffy watched him slow to a walk and head towards the other workers. She never thought that she would hear him say her name again. How he knew it, she didn’t know. He’d probably learned it from Xander or something. She looked down at her hands to see that they were shaking. She bent down and picked up her purse, and started walking towards Xander’s trailer. She was still dazed by her sudden reunion with Spike. Definitely not how she pictured it. How was it that she could face a Hell-God, demons, and the First Evil, and not back down, but the minute she was confronted with someone that she loved she reverted into a scared, little girl? One of the world’s greatest mysteries.

William was tired. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so tired. It had been four days since he’d experienced the weird flashback, and he had hardly slept since. Every time he closed his eyes, images flashed through his mind; Xander, Mr. Giles, that Buffy girl, and others that he recognized, and yet didn’t know. The actual situations that he saw were the worse. Not only were they unbelievably bizarre, but it was almost like they were shrouded in a giant fog. The dreams didn’t make sense, and the ones that almost did were anything but ordinary. The dreams were filled with death, destruction, and violence. He was on the outside watching himself interact with Xander, Buffy, and the others. He was fighting, crying, and killing. It was intense and crazy, and there was no way that it could be just a coincidence. Something was definetely going on, but he couldn’t figure out what. It couldn’t be real; there was just no way that his dreams could be real. For one, monsters didn’t exist, and for another, if they did, he highly doubted that he would be fighting them. He was at his wits end. He couldn’t tell anyone, and even if he did they wouldn’t understand. William groaned. How was he supposed to work when he felt like this? Every time he picked up a hammer or even a nail, it felt like they had quadrupled in weight. William glanced down at his watch. He had an hour until lunch, but there was no way he was going to make it until then. He needed to sit down because if he didn’t, he was going to topple over. The frightening path that his life had just started down was a heavy load that was almost to much carry when you were about to pass out from lack of sleep.

As he walked over to one of the tables in the break area, William tried to ignore the stares of his coworkers. He didn’t blame them for staring. He looked awful and they probably thought he was going to fall over and die right in front of them. Well, that, and the fact that he had been jumping at the slightest sound. No matter what William did, he couldn’t calm down. Thankfully, Xander had backed down a bit, although he was still watching him like a hawk; however, his friend Buffy was another story. She had been skulking around ever since he had bumped into her. He could tell she was following him around, she thought she was being stealthy and sneaky, but he wasn’t stupid. Crazy and somewhat schizophrenic, but not stupid. William kept walking, past the stares and concerned looks to the table farthest away from everyone. It was partially hidden from view by a large stack of roofing tiles. He slid onto the bench and cradled his head on his arms. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, no one would notice...





Buffy was worried. When she had first run into Spike, he actually seemed all right. He had looked good, well rested, and healthy. It was surprising how he’d changed so drastically just in the past four days. Now he looked haggard, worn down, and down right miserable. The look almost rivaled the crazy Spike in the basement look just minus the two toned hair. She had tried to follow him around the site, without being noticed, but she was failing miserably. She was following him, and he knew it. Buffy blamed the lack of good hiding places. The fact that she didn’t even get a dirty look just went to show how off he was. He also hadn’t even noticed her current stakeout point behind the cement mixer. The irony that she was now stalking Spike hadn’t escaped her notice, but she didn’t know what else to do. She had held off talking to him because she didn’t want to scare him off or make him feel weird, though with her covert stalker plan, she had probably already succeeded in doing both. Besides what on earth would she say to him? He didn’t remember her or anything else that involved Sunnydale. And to make things worse, she was obviously out of practice with the whole battle strategy thing. Though, she was becoming quite proud of her coping abilities. Obviously age had brought her some maturity because she was handling this Spike thing pretty well. After she had gotten all the information from Giles, along with Xander’s sarcastic commentary, she felt like she had a mission. It felt good. It felt right. So yeah, she was missing an actual plan, but weren’t all good slayers supposed to be spontaneous and think on their feet? Well that’s how she saw it, anyways. And maybe if she told herself that a hundred more times she might start to believe it. With a sigh, she turned her attention back to Spike. He was heading towards the lunch area with a wobbly kind of walk. This whole watching thing needed to end, it was time for her to take some action. Talky Buffy it was. Cue angsty music and let the soap opera begin.

When she reached the table he was sitting at, her determination wavered. She hadn’t been this close to him since she literally ran into him, plus he looked like he was taking a nap. He probably needed it, if looks were any indication. With him being asleep, Buffy took the opportunity to study him up close. Even when what she really wanted to do was to go up and run her hands through his hair and over his face. Geez, Buffy...one track mind. She tried to decide if she could get any closer to Spike without waking him up. When she had run into him before, it had happened so fast that she hadn’t had time to concentrate on details, but now with his face turned toward her, quiet and still, she had ample time to do so. She may not be able to use her hands, but her eyes still worked. She really needed to get closer, so she took the leap and took a few steps forward, slowly so she didn’t disturb him. She smiled... he looked so different, but also completely the same. His hair was a light brown now, with a slight curl. Buffy decided that she liked the bleached look better. Yes, it had been weird, outdated, and should’ve been hard to pull off, but it had worked for him. Another odd thing was the tan. The sun had been good to him, and his color almost rivaled hers. Under her close scrutiny she also noticed the dark purple bags under his eyes, and the occasional twitch in his shoulders. He almost looked like he was dreaming. While she was pondering her new discoveries, William gasped and quickly sat up. Crap, he was awake. Quick mind think...think. It took him a minute to gain his bearings but after a few seconds he looked up and noticed her. Double crap.

“Wh...what are you doing?” he finally stumbled out.

“Um...um...coming to ask you a question for Xander?” Buffy mentally hit herself. Like he would fall for that one. He didn’t answer immediately. He still looked pretty shaken up from whatever he had been dreaming about. Maybe he’d let her hug him. Probably not. After what seemed like forever, he finally got control of himself. She could almost see him put the mask on.

“What does he need?”

Thankfully, the few moments he gave her while he composed himself had given her time to think up an excuse and a plan. “He wanted me to ask you if you had found an apartment yet.”


“No, I haven’t. I don’t get paid until Friday, so I wouldn’t have had the money for the deposit, now would I?”

She decided for once to take the higher ground and not take offense at his snippy tone, and decided to play nice. “Well, have you started looking yet?”

“No.”

“Do you want help?”

“No.”

“Um, I’m looking too, so maybe we can look together.” Another mental slap, but she was getting desperate.

“Don’t worry about it, I can do it myself. Besides, I’m okay at my motel.” As he said that he got up and started to walk away from her.

“Wait! Don’t go! I really want to help you.”

“Yeah, I can tell. You know if you wanted to make friends, staring at me from behind a cement mixer isn’t the best way to go about it. So if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to do.”

Damn, he had seen her. Dumb Spike and his observy ways. “Well, you don’t have to be rude. For all you know, I could just be really shy and socially retarded!”

“Sure, Goldilocks. I can tell you’re the epitome of a wallflower.”

He pissed her off so much sometimes! “Listen, I’m new here, you’re new here. I just thought we could help each other out. Excuse me for trying to be nice.”

When she said that he stopped and looked at her with that intense, I’m-reading-your-soul look that Spike always used. Like he was appraising her and trying to figure out her thoughts and motivations. With a short nod, he seemed to have decided that she was for real. “Sorry..., Buffy was it? I haven’t felt well this week. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s okay. I know I was probably weirding you out.”

“Yeah, you were.”

He was starting to warm up to her. Talk about an about face. This was turning out better than she had hoped, but she was going to tread carefully.

“I’m really sorry. How about we start brand new?”

He grinned a little and agreed. “Okay,” Buffy stuck out her hand. “I’m Buffy, a friend of Xander’s. I’m here visiting for the unforeseeable future.”

He grasped her hand and gave her a smile. “I’m William, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

“No, it wasn’t.”

This was of the good. Spike was smiling at her, she was smiling back, but she had no clue what to do next. Maybe she should bring up the apartment thing again. She looked at his face, saw the fatigue and decided against that. Real life stress was something that needed to be avoided at the present. After Willow brought her back, the whole having to pay bills and make serious life decisions had made the adjustment that much worse. She honestly thought that if she had been helped in that area, that year wouldn’t have been so bad. But she could make sure that Spike didn’t have to go through that, so she needed to find a way to help him forget about the real world for a moment.

“Do you want to go get some dinner tonight? My treat!”

“I don’t know. I’m probably not the best company at the present.”

He was going to try and get out of it. She was prepared for this. Xander and Giles had filled her in. He was all avoidy. But she had something they didn’t, Spike liked her. He always had, even when he wanted to kill her, he still liked her. Well, in a twisted I want you dead, kind of way. And William, on some level liked her just as much. He just needed to have an opportunity to find out. And hey, she was all up for that challenge.

“Come on, William. It’s a free meal. Who gives up a free meal? I’ll even let you pick” He was caving, and she was about to do the dance of celebration. She was also taking advantage of his fatigue and stress, and was using his stomach to get her way. She was pure evil.

“I guess if you’re letting me choose....”

“Whatever you want.”

“Mexican?”

“Sure. I love Mexican. Plus, all you can eat chips and salsa. That’s always a good thing.”

“Well, I guess I could be persuaded to eat chips and salsa.”

At that moment, Buffy wished she could give herself a high five. Guess she’d have to settle for a little bit more flirting. “Good thing, because I wasn’t going to take no for an answer.”

He smiled at her, again. She could get used to this.

Buffy fell into the chair with a loud groan, as she stared at Xander. Could he be any denser? She let out another groan, as he continued to inspect some building plans. “Xander!”


Xander straightened up with shock, sending his pencil flying up in the air. “What?”


“Did you not notice me sitting down?”

“Well, considering how you just scared ten years off my life, no!”


“Please. Like me yelling your name scared you that bad. You have so seen scarier things.”

Xander thought about it for a moment. “You know, you’re right, Buffy. Jonathan as a lounge singer was much more terrifying.”


Buffy laughed. “I don’t know, I think Andrew’s attempt at a funnel cake was worse.”


“I had forgotten all about that! Ah, those were the good times.”


They both immediately sobered up. Buffy smiled at Xander. “You’re right, those were good times.” The two friends shared a comfortable silence. It was good to remember the past. And to remember old friends and loved ones.


“So speaking of good times. . ., how’s Giles’ research going?”


“Nice segue, Buffy.”


“Thanks, I try.”


“Well, Giles is currently in my apartment with some of the books he brought with him and he’s actually using the Internet. But most of the time he’s on the phone with Willow and some council members. So far he hasn’t had much luck. Turns out there was some prophecy about a vampire with a soul, but the only person who knew much about it was Wesley.”


“Oh.”


“Yeah, oh. So it looks like the only person who probably knows what happened is Spike himself.”


Buffy smiled at Xander. “Considering the whole amnesia thing, I don’t think he’s going to be telling us any time soon, which is kind of a bummer, but I do have some good news regarding Spike.”


Xander gave her a questioning look. “What did you do now, Buffy?”


“I invited Spike out to dinner. He chose Mexican.”


Xander stared at her in shock. “How did you get him to agree to that? I practically had to twist his arm to go get a beer, and even then, I had to get him drunk to open up to me. All you’ve done is stalk him for a few days and he agrees to a date?”


“I decided to change strategies, and then just walked right up and asked him.”


“And he said yes? Just like that?”


“Yup. Well, after he kind of chewed me out for stalking him. But I just turned on the Buffy Summers charm and he caved. Besides, it’s Spike. He can’t help but fall under my spell.”


“I don’t believe it. You must have done something else. Like punch him in the nose and threaten his life or something.”


“Believe it, Xander. Tonight we’ll go out to eat and he’ll tell me what’s up. If nothing else, I hope he’ll have fun. He looks like he needs it.”


Xander nodded in agreement. “He does look like he’s having a rough time with something, and his work has kind of been suffering. Maybe he’s starting to remember things.”


Buffy stood up and walked over to the window. She peered out from behind the curtains and watched Spike working. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out. Something is definitely going on with him. I really think he needs some help.”




He was so cute. Why had she never noticed this before? Of course she had been very aware of the hotness and sexy vampire factor back in Sunnydale. Even then she never would have classified him as cute. Somehow it had managed to escape her notice. But with the whole curly hair and adorable little boy thing he had going on now, there was no way she could ignore it. Especially when he was sitting right in front of her biting his lip, pouring hot sauce on his food like there was no tomorrow.


“Wow! That’s a lot of hot sauce.”


William looked up from his plate of enchiladas. “What? I like spicy food.”


“I’m just saying that spicy food this late at night adds up to some pretty weird dreams.”


“Been there, done that.” William mumbled under his breath.


“What was that?”


“Nothing. I just said, don’t worry I have a cast iron stomach. Nothing phases me. Thank God.” He caressed the hot sauce bottle. “I don’t know what I’d do without it. It’s brilliant, is what it is.”


Buffy laughed. He was cute and funny. This whole amnesia thing was good, she decided. Well, not exactly good, but not all bad either. She was getting to see Spike without all the pretense and it was really refreshing. Back in Sunnydale everyone had been so mixed up. She was hurting, he was hurting, and that was just with the confusion of their non-relationship. At times she had almost forgotten about how he had to deal with the soul too. She didn’t even want to contemplate how much pain he had been in. One thing you could say about Spike, was that ever since he had gotten his soul he had been really good at putting barriers between the world and himself. Sure, there had been times he had let the mask slip, but mostly he just held it all in. Before the soul she could always read him like an open book. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and it was constant. Spike hurt, Spike happy, Spike lustful, it was constantly apparent. But with the addition of the soul, that had all changed. Instead, she only saw what he wanted her to see. She didn’t know if it had been intentional on his part, or if the soul just acted like a filter. Maybe as a brick wall? Either way, the only emotions that came through had been what he wanted to let out. It was probably her fault. She had hurt him so badly, that of course he didn’t want to show any weakness. Especially after she had told him off for being weak. Stupid General Buffy. Buffy wanted to scream out loud. All the thoughts were jumbled in her head and she didn’t know how to sort them out. Maybe she should just concentrate on the person in front of her, and forget the past. It wasn’t like it mattered. Spike couldn’t remember, so there was no use in freaking out about things that he didn’t even know about.


“You okay?”


Spike’s question startled her out of her thoughts. “Oh...yeah. Sorry. I kind of got lost in my thoughts.”


“Are you sure? You seemed to be thinking about something awfully serious just now.”


“Yeah, I’m fine. I just zone out occasionally is all. And I’m a little stressed. New places do that to me sometimes.”


He took a bite of his food and nodded in agreement. “I know exactly what you mean. I thought Las Vegas would be all kittens and candy, but in the last few weeks it seems like everything has gone to hell. I can’t remember the last time I was this stressed out.”


Buffy had known that he would eventually start opening up to her, but she didn’t think it would be so soon. She needed to tread lightly, because if she played her cards right he would let her in. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you so stressed out? Is it the job? Or let me guess, it’s Xander. He’s new at this boss thing, so sometimes he is kind of a spaz.”


Spike started to laugh. But it was a kind of manic laugh, almost forced. “Spaz. . ., that’s a good word for Harris.”


“So about this stress?”


He wasn’t looking at her; she could tell that he was trying to find a way to backtrack. But he finally answered, “Um...it’s no big deal. Just real life stuff.”


“Oh come on. You can tell me, I’m a good listener! Well, in theory anyways.” He gave another forced laugh, though it seemed a little more genuine than the last. Buffy smiled back. When all else fails, make fun of yourself. Works every time. She kept encouraging him in a soothing voice, trying to make him more comfortable. “If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I’m just saying that if you want to talk about it, it could be a good thing. I know when I bottle things up, and trust me I do it too often, it helps when I finally talk about it.”


Warily glancing up from his plate, he looked like he was seriously debating telling her what was going on. She could see the moment when he made the decision. Spike took a deep breath and looked her straight in the eyes. “I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this. I don’t even know you.”


“It’s okay, William. Sometimes it’s easier to tell someone you don’t know.”


“It’s just...you’re going to think I’m completely insane.”


“No I won’t. I’m pretty open-minded. Just let me help you.” Please Spike, let me help you for once. He needed her and she wanted to give that to him.


“Well, I’m sure Xander filled you in on my little amnesia thing, right?”


“Yes, I hope you don’t mind.”


“No, it’s no secret. I’m pretty much used to it. But what I’m about to tell you, please don’t tell Harris, or that Mr. Giles person. I don’t want to lose my job or get carted off by the men in white coats.”


“I promise, William. This is just between you and me.”


He took another bite of his food and glanced surreptitiously around the restaurant. “How about we leave and take a walk?”


Her surprise at the abruptness of his suggestion must’ve shown on her face for he looked back at her and gave her a weird grin. “I just don’t want to do this in front of people.”


“Good, I’m not much of an exhibitionist anyways.”


He laughed out loud at that one. A real laugh this time. “Saucy wench, let’s go.” He stood up and held out his hand. She gladly took it.




William didn’t know why he felt like he could confide in Buffy. It was mystifying to him. He didn’t know her, if anything he should be suspicious of her attention, since she had basically been stalking him all week. But while they had been sitting there eating Mexican, exchanging quips, and just generally having a great time, he had felt drawn to her. Like he could tell her anything and it would be okay. The only other person he had opened up to had been Xander, and that had been forced. But Buffy? It was a different feeling all together. The intensity scared him. He had just met her but already, he wanted to tell her all about his fears and concerns. He wanted to tell her about his dreams and hallucinations. William could almost picture himself with this woman. Holding her, talking to her. Where these thoughts came from he didn’t know. Since the day he woke up in that alley, he hadn’t felt the desire to be close to anyone. The risk wasn’t worth it to him. Sure he had plans on one day getting a girlfriend and getting on with his life, but with the way things were going, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. He could just imagine having a girlfriend and waking her up in the middle of the night by thrashing around and talking in his sleep. He didn’t think that would go over very well, so he just avoided women altogether. But Buffy made him think twice about that decision. As much as he regretted it, he still wasn’t going to pursue anything with her, because when you were hanging on to sanity by a thread, the stress of a relationship wasn’t exactly the best thing to add into the mix. Being friends with her sounded like an okay plan. Someone to talk to and just have around. Someone who could help him. He smiled. It would be nice to have a real friend.


As they kept walking down the sidewalk, he kept sneaking glances at her. William couldn’t help it. It was like his eyes had a will of their own. Especially when he looked at her hair. He couldn’t stop staring. It was all golden and bouncy and kind of mesmerizing in a disturbing way. Who in real life had shampoo commercial hair? Obviously she did, but it was still odd. He tore his eyes away and focused on the sidewalk. They were almost there. He was leading her to a park that was near his motel. It wasn’t a really good part of town, but he felt comfortable there. In the last few weeks, he had made it a habit to spend a few hours after work in the park. He didn’t like to use the term “communing with nature” because it made him fell like a poncy granola eater, but it helped him calm down a little. To forget for a few moments that he was plagued with dreams of surreal situations. Sitting on his little bench underneath a few palm trees, helped him remember that he was real. That he had a life and that he mattered. William felt that by bringing Buffy to this spot, he would be able to open up to her and tell her what was going on with him. Maybe she would even be able to help him. Maybe she was right, letting her in might be a good thing.


“So where are we going?”


“Just a place. Somewhere I feel comfortable and relaxed. It’s actually over by the park.”


By the time they arrived, the sun had already set, and it was turning into a really nice night. Cool and balmy. A perfect night to just spend outdoors. For Buffy, it was perfect patrolling weather. Even now, three years after Sunnydale, her first instincts were slayer related. Spike led her over to a bench near the edge of the park next to some palm trees. When they sat down, she grabbed his hand and brought it to her lap and gave him an encouraging smile. After taking a few deep breaths he finally looked at her. The look on his face was so open and honest. It was filled with gratitude and longing. Longing for what, she didn’t know. But she was sure she was about to find out.


“So, what is it you wanted to tell me?”


William took another deep breath. There was no point in beating around the bush, so he was just going to dive right in. “I’ve been having these dreams. I’ve always had them ever since I woke up in that alley last year. But ever since I arrived in Las Vegas they’ve gotten worse. You, Xander, his British friend. You’re all in them. I don’t know what they mean and I can’t even sleep.” He stopped talking. Buffy was just staring. Not even at him, but past him. Okay, he had expected her to be a little weirded out, but to just freeze and start staring off into space? His problem was kind of crazy, but not that crazy. “Buffy? Are you okay? Wait...what are you doing?”


Buffy froze. Why now? Why of all times did this damn vampire have to attack now? She knew she should have insisted on going somewhere indoors. She pulled a stake out of her purse and stood up and rushed the vampire. Here she was having a moment with Spike, he was finally opening up to her, and the dreams he was talking about would probably lead her and Giles to a solution. Stupid idiotic vampires. Fortunately for her, it was a fledgling. And a stupid, fat fledgling at that. He was easy to dust. A right hook and a roundhouse and he was on the ground giving her ample time to stake his ass. Brushing the dust off her pants she turned around just in time to see Spike running off in the opposite direction. She spit out another curse at the vampire’s bad timing and then took off running after him.