Buffy’s smile faded when she found herself not on Giles’s front porch, but in a dark alleyway. She looked around, frightened for a second before her slayer instincts took over. “Spike?” she called, looking around her. No one answered her and she sighed. She slouched, looking around trying to figure out where she was. When she felt the familiar tingle up her spine, her back straightened in alert and she turned around to find a man wearing what appeared to be clothing back in the colonial times. “Ok, you obviously haven’t been out in a long time,” she stated.
“Well, what a strange creature. What’s a pretty little thing like you dressed up in mans trousers and blouse? Shouldn’t you be wearing one of those frilly little dresses like women your age do?”
“What the hell are you going on about?” she asked annoyed somewhat as she could not find anything to use as a stake. Her eyes darted around, but kept sight of the monster morphing in front of her.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. You’ll be dead soon anyways.” Yes! She found it. With a smile looked at the vampire.
“I don’t think so. You obviously don’t know who I am,” she grinned, walking over to a crate which she broke by smashing it on the ground. Picking up the sharpest piece, she looked back at him.
“Yes, and who are you?”
“I’m the slayer,” she stated before charging at him.
“Giles! Wake up!” Spike scrambled up the stairs, stepping on both Anya and Xander who both yelped as they awoke. “Giles you damned watcher! Get up!” He crashed into Giles room to find the man searching for his glasses on his nightstand.
“What is the meaning of this Spike?” the old man growled with annoyance.
“It’s the slayer! She’s gone!” At this, Giles jumped out of bed, grabbing Spike by the shirt and shaking him.
“What do you mean she’s gone? What have you done with her? Dammit Spike, if you’ve laid one finger on her I’ll-“
“I didn’t do anything to her, you bloody git! I can’t touch her, remember? She’s gone. She disappeared in this big flash of light! She’s gone Giles. We don’t have a slayer!”
“Oh dear,” was all Giles could say as he stood believing the vampires tale whole heartedly.
Buffy limped down the street, running as fast as she could with a twisted ankle. It seemed that she was in an alternate universe because she had no slayer strength here. She looked back to see the vampire gaining ground on her and fast. “Oh god, how did I get here?” she murmured to herself as she began to hobble faster, turning down another street only to run into a hard chest, sending both the man and her down to the ground. She quickly got up, pulling the man to his feet and holding onto his hand as she began to pull him down the street and away from the vampire.
“Miss! Please Miss, let go of my hand!” came the cultured English voice from behind her. She didn’t look back, only held his hand tighter and kept running.
“Unless you want to die, I’m not letting go of your hand till we can find a crowded place.”
“What do you mean by unless you want to die?”
“Look behind you,” she stated as she pulled him along.
“Oh dear lord,” came the reply as he began to run faster, along side of her and finally in front of her, pulling her along. Finally, they reached a house and he quickly pulled her inside, shutting the door behind him. It was now that Buffy could see what the man looked like.
He was a little taller than her with a full head of sandy brown curls that seemed to hang in front of his eyes which were framed by his wire-frame glasses. His cheeks were nicely defined and he had a nice strong jaw as well as a full bottom lip and a thinner upper lip. He had broad shoulders and no doubt muscles that were hidden well beneath the frock coat he wore.
She noticed that as she looked him over, he did the same with her, taking in her petite frame, black capris and fitted powder blue shirt along with her worn tennis shoes. She smiled, looking up into his eyes. It was then that she noticed the startling similarities between this man before her the vampire she had left unattended and most likely freaked out at home. “Oh my god!” she gasped, covering her mouth as she realized what had happened to her. The reason she had been standing in a strange place. The reason she had no strength at all.
“What?” he asked as he snapped out of his daze from starring at her and her unusual wardrobe.
“You’re William the Bloody,” she stated.
“So, tell me again why you were burning Giles’s book,” Xander asked as he sat next to Anya on the couch while Spike stood in front of everyone after telling them what had happened to their precious slayer.
“It wasn’t ever his to begin with,” he growled as he looked at the other man who had taken off his glasses and had begun polishing them. “I’m still wondering how he even came into possession of my old journal.”
“Wait, you’re telling us that that’s yours? How can it be, it’s like one hundred years old!” Xander exclaimed.
“How stupid are you Harris? I am over one hundred years old. That journal was mine when I was human, still alive, you know, all soul bearing. The last entry is the day before I was turned. There’s and inscription on the back. It wasn’t there when I was writing in it so someone must have put a spell on it after I died because I through the thing out with my mothers ashes. I know it’s Latin.” He handed Giles the book to translate.
“Well, loosely, it’s ‘with secrets comes trouble’. But I can’t be sure, my Latin isn’t as good as it used to be and the language has been dead for so long.” Spike growled, grabbing his journal back from him.
“Not in magic it isn’t’. Do you know what this means? It means the slayer has gone back in time, met me, and will most likely ruin my unlife as I know it!” he yelled, flopping down on the couch.
“Buffy’s not that stupid! She knows not to interfere with the past. You’ll see, we’ll get her back here before you know it.” Spike sighed, looking over at Giles with a pointed look.
“You wanna bet?”
“I’ll get the whiskey,” Giles sighed after a moments thought before getting up and retrieving two glasses which he filled to the brim.