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Chapter 3

"Well, I think that went well," Xander heard Anya say as he burst through the front door of Buffy's home. He'd needed an ice pack for his face, and to let Buffy know he'd run into Warren and his chums, so he'd figured he could kill two birds with one stone by heading straight there. He hadn't counted on running into Anya, however.

"Buffy," He called as he shut the door, choosing to momentarily avoid the whole Anya issue, "I found Warren. Actually, my face kind of found him…" He trailed off as he noticed Spike's coat hanging over the banister. That was also right about the time he noticed that Buffy was standing on the stairs in apparently nothing but her bath robe. He so totally didn't want to deal with this right now.

"This what you call not seeing Spike anymore?" He asked with no small trace of anger, and noticed that his question had elicited a very noticeable twitch from Buffy; but, she didn't give him any response to his question, she just turned and started to walk up the stairs. Xander also noticed at that moment, that she was moving quite differently than her usual self, slower and obviously in quite a bit of pain. "What did he do? Did he hurt you?"

Buffy froze in her tracks for a moment, before turning her head to glance over her shoulder at him.

"It was a demon. Caught me off guard. I took care of it," she offered quietly.

"Took care of it? Like you took care of Spike?" Xander seethed out, pointing toward Spike's black coat.

"No, it's safe to say I killed it," Buffy replied in her quiet but firm voice.

That was when he noticed that Buffy was staring intently into the living room. He followed her line of gaze, right into the very confused face of…Spike? Spike, in this house? After everything that had happened recently, and with Buffy and Anya both there as well? Xander's stomach started to feel nauseated, and then his rage started to take over. He made a sharp turn toward the living room with the intention to close the few steps to the couch and stake the vampire that had become the bane of his existence. Right until Buffy suddenly had a vice like grip on his arm and was pulling him toward the dining room. He made a valliant but vain attempt to free his arm, as he was dragged away. Once in the room, he stopped struggling and turned the full face of his fury to Buffy.

"What is he doing here? And Anya? Is this some sort of sick three…" He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence before Buffy's other hand produced the second solid crack to his face for the evening.

"First, don't you dare come into my house and start insulting me and my guests…" Buffy bit out through clench teeth. "

"Guests?! Since when is Spike a guest?!" Xander retorted.

"Second, that person in there isn't Spike," She finished.

"What, so now Spike's both a person and a guest? This is insane, Buffy. When did you…"

"She made a wish, Xander," Anya spoke up, softly enough that it took a second for him to register what she had said. "Buffy made a wish that Spike the vampire no longer existed."

"Funny, that sure looked like Spike to me." Xander's retort was short and his anger practically dripped from his mouth.

"You didn't let me finish! You never let me finish!" Anya stamped one heel for emphasis. "Buffy made a wish that Spike the Bloody Vampire no longer existed. The person you saw in there is the man Spike was before he was turned into a vampire 122 years ago."

Now it was Xander's turn to stand in silence as he took in what everyone was saying. He finally turned back to Buffy with a look of incredulity and asked, "You wished Spike out of existence?"

"No," Buffy dropped the grip she had on Xander's arm and crossed her arms in front of herself, pulling the bathrobe a little tighter. "Yes. I don't… it's complicated."

"Yeah, I gathered that," he replied. "So the Spike shaped guy in there is…"

"William," Buffy softly clarified.

"William." Xander looked up at the ceiling, as if expecting to find something there. Ye gods, this was going to be a long night, and he hadn't even gotten to the part about telling Buffy about Warren, much less getting that ice pack.

******************

Hearing his name, William decided this might be the opportune time to address the man who had charged in, and then started quite the heated discussion about a spike, and also seemed to involve a patron perhaps. What an odd topic of discussion, and not one he'd been able to completely follow. Then again, it certainly wasn't his business whatever business these adventuress' had with their patrons. Ah, well, "once more unto the breach," he mumbled to himself, as he slowly walked toward the gathered group. He was beginning to understand why his friends held such women in high regard. They were unlike any woman he'd ever seen.

"Pardon me, good sir," William said after cleared his throat. The gentleman turned towards him, as he spoke. Only this looked like no gentleman; rather, he looked like a laborer of some sort, who had recently been in a bit of a row judging by his face. "My name is William Pratt. I take it you are the proprietor of this establishment?"

The man just stared at him, and apparently was floundering for words as he himself so often did.

"Establishment?" The man asked in what seemed to be a question.

"Yes, I assume this is your introduction house? I'm afraid I seem to have been injured earlier this evening, and was brought here for assistance," William explained. "Though," he scratched his head, "I'm not entirely sure how I got from the Adams engagement to the rookery."

"Ok, this is officially starting to wig me out a little. I hear these words coming from his mouth, but they're making even less sense then usual." The man stated.

"Right there with you, Xander." The angel, no… Ms. Buffy, stated.

"Ah! Xander is your name? Nice to make your acquaintance Mr. Xander. Fascinating name, I take it your family is from the continent?" William asked, as he took one of Mr. Xander's out stretched hands and shook it. Getting no answer, he pressed on.

"As I told these lovely adventuresses, I really must be on my way. My mother is not well, you see, and she will be worried sick if I don't return immediately."

"Uh, huh," was the only reply he received.

"I don't suppose I could trouble you to locate a cab?" William asked.

"Cab! Ok, I know this one. Did they have cabs 122 years ago?" Xander asked, looking at Buffy.

"How they heck would I know?" Buffy asked in return.

"Oh, sure," Anya offered. "Only they were coaches and not cars. The drivers charged outrageously too, but if you could afford them you probably didn't care what they cost."

"You speak old guy?" Mr. Xander asked Ms. Anya.

"I beg your pardon?" William exclaimed at Mr. Xander's assertion. "I am no man of dizzy age, sir! I am not long out of Cambridge, I dare say."

"Anya, translation?" Ms. Buffy asked.

"Oh, he said he isn't old and that he hasn't been out of college long," Ms. Anya supplied.

"And, the rest of it?" Mr. Xander asked.

"Rest of… oh, um, let's see… he thinks your name is weird and asked if your family comes from somewhere else in Europe, and he wants to know if you're the pimp in charge here, and he thinks he is in a sort of red light district in London. Oh, and he wants you to get him a ride home because his mother's sick." Ms. Anya supplied, though some of the words seemed a bit odd, William felt it to be a close approximation, and these east enders were known to have an unusual vocabulary of their own.

"Did you say, 'pimp'?" Xander asked.

"God!" Buffy exclaimed. "What is it going to take to get it into your head that we aren't a bunch of prostitutes?"

"Technically, he called us adventuresses," Anya pointed out. "Again, you should be quite flattered. They were often very highly regarded. Um, did you ever read Sherlock Holmes?" On the blank expressions, she continued anyway, "Well, one of the characters, Irene Adler, she was based on an opera singer at the time, Lillie Langtry."

"And she was a…" Xander left the question hanging.

"Adventuress, yes," she supplied. "Although, married at the time."

"Can we get back to the whole Spike thing?" Xander asked. "Preferably before my head explodes?"

"William," Buffy corrected.

"Not helping," Xander replied.

"So, has anyone here bothered to translate into old British guy…" Xander started.

"See here!" William interrupted.

"Sorry, sorry, my bad," Xander held his hands up in surrender. "So, has anyone told William here that he's in Sunnydale, California in 2002, and his mother's long gone? Assuming Spike, here, didn't turn her into a vampire, that is?"

"Vampire?!" William gasped.

"You know about vampires?" Buffy asked.

"Why, yes. Well, I hope you don't think me feeble minded, but I think it was such a creature of the night that attacked me earlier. You say this creature, this 'Spike' would have gone after mother?" William asked with growing alarm. "I must leave at once."

With no further pause, William pulled the front door open and hurried from the house and down the sidewalk.





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