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Chapter Two


In which Buffy sees William for the first time

Italics = thoughts

Megan thank you for betaing this!!

The description of William's room sorta got carried away with it - guess it's the antique dealer in me ::grin::

*******

She was a being of thought now; no form - no body, only an amalgam of light and her memories.

Memories that were not letting her rest at all! If Buffy could've, she would have crossed her arms and stuck her lip out in a massive pout. 'So much for eternal peace!' She thought grumpily.

Buffy's thoughts were filled with Spike and why he had sided with her. And surprisingly, no thoughts for her friends or Dawnie; she knew they were fine… happy…but Spike wasn’t, she didn’t get why she knew, only that she did and that was why she was not completely at peace, in her little corner of Valhalla. She had unfinished business, in the form of the mercurial bleached blond menace.

In all their time fighting against each other, and then side-by-side as reluctant allies, she had often wondered what had happened in his past to make him into whom he had become. A soulless creature of the night that had loved one woman for over a century; he had protected and nurtured her back to health when she had been nearly killed in Prague.

So much feeling and tenderness towards his Drusilla puzzled her. When Angelus hadn't felt anything for her or anyone else - it didn't make sense to Buffy. Spike was soulless and a vampire just as Angelus had been, but even then he had helped to save the world…all for love.

Whereas Angelus had not loved - only hated.

Where had Spike learned such a deep and abiding love, one that he sustained for the entirety of his existence?

Before she could think of anything else a flash of an image filled her mind and Buffy latched onto it with a ferocious determination.

Then they came like a series of Dali-esque dreams.

The 'this is your unlife Spike show'.

She had no idea how long she watched Spike's life in reverse. Some of it was familiar to her, but now she saw it all...

And the bloody swathe he cut through history, sickened her. She had known he was evil, but to see it all laid out before her in a not so glorious Technicolor dream was too much. Buffy shied away from the murder, rape and blood and turned to Spike's quieter moments.

Of which there were a surprising glut of them. Buffy watched as he curled around Dru’s shivering and weakened form and tried to warm her with his body. She watched as he read book after book of poetry, she puzzled over him cautiously writing in leather bound journals - always hiding them away when he was disturbed.

But it was the tenderness he showed towards her, Dawnie, Mom and Dru, which captured Buffy's attention. She honed in on these visions and watched them over and over.

She saw Spike and Dru in Prague and his desperation to get to his fallen Dark Princess and wondered why he cared so much? Why he was so protective and in tune with women? He was a demon and a killer but when it came to the fairer sex Spike and made them his entire focus.

Then in a kaleidoscopic twist, all her attentions were focused on one image.

A man hunched over a desk in a gas light room scribbling on a loose piece of paper with a fountain pen. There were ink stains on his fingers and small round glasses perched on the end of his nose. Which he periodically pushed up with a blue stained index finger. His face was obscured by a tumble of honey brown curls and cast into a shadow by the muted light.

His full lips moved as he muttered to himself under his breath and scribbled on the sheet of parchment on the walnut veneered desk. Buffy looked around the large room with curiosity, trying to work out whom it was she was watching.

'Obviously a bedroom.'

She took in the massive walnut four-poster bed, dressed with burgundy velvet curtains and held back with thick gold ropes and tasselled tiebacks. The sheets were crisp linen and the blankets layered over it were covered with a handmade quilt of silks, the rich colours matching the curtains.

The walls were covered in striped wallpaper of deep crimson and off white, and hundreds of small and large pictures covered them. Watercolours, oil paintings but mainly stipple engravings - all of views of Italian ruins and landscapes.

Dotted against the walls were pieces of fine wood furniture - there was a huge armoire and some fancy cane-backed chairs. All of which added to the feeling of masculinity in the room.

As Buffy's eyes roved around the room they came to a halt again on the hunched form of the young man writing away at his desk. He was in his shirtsleeves and had kicked off his shoes, exposing his lean feet to the thick Persian rugs that covered the floor.

He looked familiar.

On the far wall there was a massive fireplace, with a crushed velvet throw draped over it concealing all the marble carvings from view. There was a fire roaring in it and the porcelain dogs that stood on either side were bathed in a golden glow. A Copper coal shuttle stood waiting to be emptied into the burning fire. The two large wing backed armchairs facing the welcoming warmth were covered in cushions and looked big enough to seat two. On either side of the fireplace were two massive blue and white jardinières in which stood miniature orange trees.

Buffy stared at the fire- mesmerised by the flames- for a long moment. She gazed around the beautifully decorated room once more and then her eyes were drawn back to the fireplace.

Above it was a large giltwood over mantle mirror, which was decorated with carved acanthus leaves and the mottled glass reflected the room and it's occupant back to Buffy's curious gaze. She ignored the High Gothic Bronze and ormolu clock that ticked away on its perch in the centre of the mantelpiece and all the curios scattered over the remaining free space on the velvet covered fireplace. As her attention was focused on something reflected in the aged mirror - she could see the man's face.

She stared in confusion at the face of the man who sat writing with his back to her. His sharp cheekbones, full lips and piercing blue eyes reminded her of...SPIKE!

Spike? The perfect picture of a Victorian Gentleman, in his swanky bedroom and writing what? If she had a jaw it would have hit the plush rugs with a resounding thud!

'When the hell am I?'

"Master William?" There was a knock on the door.

'William?' Buffy mentally slapped herself. William the Bloody – sure, it was his real name.

There was another knock, "Master William, may I enter?" The voice sounded female. Buffy looked over at the shut door and wondered who the hell it was.

The fountain pen clattered to the desk and William stood, running his fingers through his curly hair.

'Holy crap, Spike...I mean, Master William has curls!' Buffy watched as he shrugged on his waistcoat and then the unthinkable happened.

"You may enter, Esther."

'Jeez, he sounds like Hugh Grant! All this time I thought he was a cockney rebel and he was just a big faker' Buffy mentally rolled her eyes at Spike and then turned her attention back to the suit clad William. ‘Big bad my invisible ass!’

"Thank you, sir! The Mistress wanted me to ensure your bed was turned down and you had this." The white-capped maid gingerly carried the copper bed warmer filled with hot coals to the foot of the bed and slipped it under to covers to warm the sheets.

'Mistress? Naahhh, he looks too uptight to have a Mistress.' Buffy watched the maid bob a small curtsey and exit the room. She looked over at the slender man who was now pacing back and forth and before she could see anymore the room vanished.

***********

She curled up on herself and groaned. Cool grass pressed against her cheek. 'Wait, my cheek!' Wincing, she rolled onto her knees and pushed herself up. "Huh?" Then she did a mental snoopy dance- she had a body again! As nice as it was being all one with the universe, she missed her arms and legs!

"Hey girl." Nikki's voice filled her ears. Wait, she had ears again? Buffy clapped her hands to her head and knelt up.

"What's going on?" Buffy asked warily. One minute she was watching Spike/William and now her insides felt like someone had rearranged them with a wooden spoon. She hoped like hell that she wasn't in any kinda trouble for snooping around in Spike’s…

No…William's life.

"No idea - I was brought here same as you." Nikki sat up and looked around.

"This really will not do!" A new voice echoed around the meadow. "Explain it to her, Nikki."

"What?" Nikki yelled up at the sky.

"No hauntings! It's not becoming of a Slayer of her status." The invisible person sounded miffed. "Sort it out... really most unbecoming of her…tut tut."

Buffy turned to face Nikki, "I wasn't haunting anyone!"

"You sure?" Nikki's deep brown eyes twinkled with mirth.

"Cos we've all done it from time to time...those guys upstairs kinda think it's not cool for us to be wafting around someone’s house all Scrooge and Marelylike, rattling our stakes at people!

Buffy frowned; she bit her lower lip between her teeth and then shook her head. "Nope, no haunting. Was just looking around. I wasn't physically there…no reflection. Nothing!" Buffy knew she hadn't cast a reflection in the mirror when she had registered who her writing man had been. Master William had never reacted to her presence in his rooms in any way and neither had the maid who had brought the bedwarmer... nope, she was of the good.

Buffy wriggled her toes cos she could and smiled happily.

"Uh huh." Nikki looked doubtfully at Buffy, she glanced around guiltily and then leant closer to the blonde. "We all do it, I look in on my kid all the time. Just try not to get caught, okay?" Nikki pulled back with a wink.

"Kid? I thought Slayers didn't have children." Buffy cocked her head in question.

"Who told yah that pile o'hooey? I have...had, a son. He's all grown now! Real handsome boy!" Nikki looked proudly at Buffy.

"Wow."

"Yeah wow…now hon, let’s talk." Nikki spent the next few hours talking about her life and son Robin and every now and then, dropped in a few hints about how to watch over someone. She never asked who, assuming it was Dawn or one of her friends. Before long they were lying side-by-side in the grass and chatting up a storm. Buffy enjoyed talking with Nikki, it was much like when Faith had first come to town and they had become friends - comrades in arms.

And then they both shimmered out and there was silence again in the meadow.





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