---

Xander: I suggest we get inside before we run into any other-
Buffy: Demon! A Demon!
Willow: It’s not a demon. It’s a car.
Buffy: What does it want?
Xander: Is this woman insane?
Willow: She’s never seen a car.
Xander: She’s never seen a car?
Willow: She’s from the past.
Xander: And you’re a ghost.
Willow: Yes. Now let’s get inside.
Xander: I just want you to know I’m taking a lot on faith here.
- "Halloween"

---

"I know our ways are strange to you, but soon you will join us in the twentieth century - with three whole years to spare!"
- Jenny Calendar, to Giles, "I, Robot - You, Jane"

---

She stood in the circle of candles and recited the last stanza, stabbing her long dagger into the Earth. "As I will it, so now it be!" she cried. Suddenly a bolt of lightning hit her and she fell, unconscious, to the ground.

Across town, Angel sat up in bed. He heard the thunder and winced at the though of a storm. Suddenly he felt a terrible pain in his stomach. It reminded him of when he had been cursed with his soul - and when he had lost it again. He grimaced and glanced skyward, staring at the ceiling, wondering what great deity he had angered this time. Instead a bolt of lightning hit him and he collapsed into unconsciousness.

So accustomed to hitting the welcome sign - he had done it every other time he’d come to the Hellmouth - he had forgotten about the tree stumps nearby and did not realize how far off the road he had come until he hit one of the stumps head-on. Realizing that it had stopped the car, he got out to take a look. "Oh, bloody hell," he swore softly and then looked around. A decision made, the man known as Spike grabbed a bag and his eternal black leather duster and started walking in the general direction of Sunnydale High School.

Buffy was pacing. This worried both Xander and Giles profoundly. Cordelia, as usual, was oblivious, and Oz had been forced into visiting relatives for the weekend. Wesley, on the other hand - and for this small miracle Giles was rather grateful - had not shown up at all, claiming illness. Giles sighed and sipped his tea. Buffy continued her pacing.

Suddenly she stopped and looked at her watch. "Where is she?" Buffy asked angrily. "Xander, did she say anything to you?"

He looked up. "She said she’d be here, Buffy. Calm down a little. If Willow isn’t here in like ten minutes, then we start worrying, okay? She said there was something she needed to do. She wouldn’t tell me. Supposed to be a surprise, she said."

"Great," Buffy said. The sarcasm was clear in her voice. "I just love surprises."

There was a moment of silence. Cordelia turned the page of Cosmo and continued to examine the fashion statements of the rich and famous.

"It may be best to listen to Xander," Giles told her. "Unnecessary worry can help us in no way."

Cordelia spoke up. "I still don’t know why you’re worried. Sure, it’s dark. Okay, there are a bunch of vampires on the loose. There always are. This is Willow we’re talking about. The girl has no fashion sense, but she’s not stupid."

They all looked at her.

"What? I’m not allowed to say anything intelligent?"

No one answered her. Buffy returned to pacing. "I just wish I knew what she’s doing."

Liam Andrew Flannery awoke with a terrible headache.

This did not surprise him. His last clear memory was staggering out of the pub, drunk as usual. After that it was blurry, confused. He thought he remembered something…a young woman…in an alley…a blonde…but he wasn’t sure. "Sweet Mother of God," he whispered, trying to block the sickness, and opened his eyes.
He found himself to be lying on a bed in a dark room. He did not recognize it but suspected that it had something to do with the blonde woman. He sat up and realized that he was no longer wearing his own clothes. These were just as comfortable, but…different. Strange. They felt wrong somehow.

Finally he found the strength to stand and wondered if there was no light source at all to be found. Finally, he saw curtains and opened them. A little light came through - he wondered if it had been a full moon - but not much. He leaned up against the wall and felt a small…something move as he did. Suddenly, the room was ablaze with a strange light and he let out a feminine scream.

He saw no candles, no sunlight. The brightness seemed to come from strange glass orbs throughout the strange quarters. He looked further about him and recognized almost nothing in the room. It was all so strange…and the strange light - like…like…

Like magic.

"Magic!" he cried out faintly. "Witchcraft!" He was Irish; he had lived all his life on that green island; he knew all the old stories. But now, in this rather modern age, he had thought he’d left those beliefs behind. But now they returned, the only logical explanation his confused mind could supply. "The Devil’s hand!"

He looked around again, searching for a way out. Finally he found a door and opening it, he stepped into the cool, unforgiving darkness of the night.

Willow knew something had gone wrong the instant she regained consciousness. She felt…different. She ached all over and felt tired. That was to be expected; she had put a lot of power into the spell and of course it would wear her out a bit physically. She had the vague memory of a bright flash of light before her. Did that mean it had worked? She didn’t know and all she could do was wait. Wait and see what had happened to Angel. If something had happened at all.

After a few moments she found the strength to stand again and began to clean up her mess. All the candles
had gone out and many of the herbs had been strewn across the empty field, but she was careful to clean up as much of it as possible, tossing the candles and her dagger - now carefully sheathed - into a backpack, salvaging what she could of the herbs and putting them away as well.

There was a light breeze now and even though she knew it was uncommonly cold out, it didn’t bother her. She looked up to the sky as she began walking away and wondered, Is it my imagination, or is it a lot brighter all of a sudden? Maybe I was out longer that I thought and it’s only the dawn approaching-

-the dawn approaching-

Suddenly her mind was filled with only one thought: escape. All other thoughts were killed with fear of the sunrise. She wanted to run, desperately wanted to find cover, but she stood her ground and tried to understand what she was thinking.

Why am I so afraid of the sunrise?

Once again in control, she pondered the question as she walked. She began to hear the sounds of the Bronze in the distance-

Feed me.

She twirled around, ready to attack at the sound of the voice. But no one was there. It was strange. She thought she had recognized the voice. Startled, she continued walking.

Feed me.

"Angel?" she said suddenly, turning around again. But the dark-haired vampire-(hopefully)-turned-human was not there. "Angel? Where are you?" She was certain it had been him.

Willow, you know what you have to do.

"No." Her whisper was faint. "No." She recognized the voice now. It was Angel’s voice, but not Angel. She knew the tone, the attitude: it was Angelus.

She began walking briskly, not ready to run, coming nearer and nearer to the Bronze. If I get to the Bronze, I can go inside and call Buffy from there. She’ll know what to do.

No.

This time, though, it wasn’t her voice that said it. Why? she asked innocently.

Buffy. The Slayer. Why do you want to consult the Slayer? You know what you need. Feed me, Willow.
The voice was changing. Its pitch was higher, more feminine. And then, it was a new voice, one she didn’t want to hear.

Her own.

Feed me, Willow. Feed us. Don’t be weak again. You’re strong. You’re powerful. But you’ll be weak if
you don’t. Feed me, Willow.

No. It was the voice of the other Willow, the one from the other reality. The Willow who was a vampire.
She came around the corner and saw some kids talking near the entrance to the Bronze. Even at that distance she could hear them-

"…And then I said, ‘Look, Johnny, I don’t care if you’re the captain of the best football team on the planet. I’m not going out with you.’ And then he said, ‘Well, why not?’"

"What did you say?"

"Wasn’t he, like, super mad at you?"

"Of course he was mad. So I said, ‘You know why I’m not going out with you?’ And he’s like, ‘No.’ And I swear this jerk is as thick as steel. He doesn’t listen to a word I say. So I’m screaming, like, ‘Idiot!’ And then I said…."

 -and she could smell them.

She could smell the girls. They smelled sweet. The scent was staggering. The sudden hunger in her stomach did not want to be denied.

Willow, horrified, put her hands up to cover her face, thinking, no, no, no, no, and suddenly dropped them again. After a moment she raised one hand again and touched her face. No, no, no, no, no…

And the other voice said, Yes, yes, yes…

Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god… She raised her hand again. She felt it again. She touched her mouth and felt it there as well.

Ridges.

And fangs.

Screaming, she ran off, heading for the school.

And all the while, the other Willow voice, the demonic one in her mind, said, Feed me. Feed me. Yeeeeeesssssssssssssssssss……………………

Buffy decided she had had enough with pacing and stopped. Giles looked up from his book and glanced over at Xander and Cordelia, both of whom had fallen asleep, Cordelia with her magazines, Xander amid a herd of Twinkie wrappers. "Buffy?" he asked cautiously.

"Giles, it’s been too long. Something’s wrong. I know it. I can feel it," she said. "Willow’s in trouble and I have to find her." She walked over to the table and grabbed her coat and a solitary wooden stake. "Don’t worry about me," she added. "I’ll be back."

She left.

As soon as she was gone, Giles sighed. "I always worry. It’s part of my job."

It was cool outside and Buffy was glad she had taken her coat. It was a clear night and she wished she knew a little bit more about the stars. She walked as she had earlier that night on patrol: prepared, waiting, cautious.

The vampires seemed to have all stayed at home and she only dusted two during her search for Willow. A honking horn captured her attention.

A young man looked up in fear as the car stopped short of him. The driver yelled a little, but the man paid him no attention, instead gazing up at the building on the other side of the road. The man raced the rest of the way across as the car continued on its course and then entered the church.

Intrigued, Buffy followed him after a cautious moment. She could have sworn the young man looked like Angel, but there was something terribly wrong with him and she couldn’t place it.

Terribly wrong.

Liam was certain that they were demons, these strange box-like creatures with wheels instead of legs. Their eyes glowed in the dark and they came racing out of nowhere at amazing speeds. He walked the strange streets, staring at the buildings and the demons that seemed to be sleeping. Suddenly there was a strange sound and he looked to see one of the demons aimed towards him. It stopped short and a human voice began yelling at him from inside of the beast. Startled and afraid, he looked up at the building before him. A church. He ran inside and did not see the young blonde woman following him.

How many churches are there in Sunnydale? Buffy asked herself. Forty-three? If it was Angel, why would he go in this one? Okay, I guess he was probably Catholic when he was human, but he’s a vampire now. Statistically Catholic churches have the most crosses and crucifixes (not to mention holy water), so he’d be, like, torturing himself. If he wanted holy ground, there’s a Christian Scientist church only a block from his place. They’re not as big into the whole religious decoration thing.

She watched in amazement as the young man dipped his fingers into the holy water and anointed himself and then continued inwards. It can’t be Angel, she thought nervously. The holy water didn’t hurt him one bit.
He was kneeling now, at a pew that was in about the center of the church. Walking slowly and quietly, she came to him. She looked around and saw the crucifixes, the one huge cross at the front. Then she turned back to the young man. His eyes were closed in concentration, his lips moving in silent prayer. "Angel?" she asked softly.

Suddenly Liam heard a voice beside him and he looked up to see a young woman standing there. "Angel!" she said again, as if in amazement, as she sat down on the pew. He crossed himself and sat back onto the pew. He wondered why she kept calling him an angel.

He examined her face. She was blonde and her hair was tied back in a fashion he was unfamiliar with. Her eyes were hazel and filled with concern and worry. She was tanned and she had painted her face with color.
She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life.

"Why are you here, Angel?" she asked worriedly. "The crosses and crucifixes and everything…"

He didn’t know what she meant with that last part, but he told her the truth. "I was afraid," Liam said. "There were these demons-"

"Demons?" she asked. "What demons? Why didn’t you tell me?"

"These strange demons on the streets. Box-like, but with wheels to move upon. They can run so fast, and their eyes…their eyes are as bright as the midday sun…"

"Wait a minute." She looked at him strangely. "You mean the cars? Angel, what’s wrong? You know about cars - you know how to drive." She took a breath. "What’s going on, Angel? You’re scaring me. How can you be in here with the crosses? How could you touch the holy water? Please, Angel, tell me."

He began worrying that she would start crying, and was starting to question her sanity. "Miss, if I might ask you a question, why are you calling me Angel?"

"What?" she whispered. "If you’re not Angel, then who are you?"

"My name is Liam Flannery. Now, Miss-"

"Buffy," she said suddenly. "I know you, and you know me, but obviously something’s wrong-" She had reached over and grabbed his wrist and then stopped in mid-sentence.

His skin was warm.

How can that be? Buffy asked herself. She looked at his face and only saw confusion to mirror her own. She turned his wrist over and pressed two fingers into the skin. He had a heart beat. She pressed her hand over his heart and felt the warmth of his body before putting her ear to it. Even through his clothing, she could hear his heart beating. A heart that hadn’t been beating for over two hundred years.

"It’s true," she whispered. "You’re alive. You’re…human."

The man - who she knew had to be Angel, though he claimed otherwise - only looked at her in confusion - and fear. "Is there a reason I shouldn’t be?"

Buffy looked at him strangely. "What year is it?" she finally asked, an idea forming in her mind.

"Miss Buffy," he said, "are you all right? Are you ill perhaps?"

"No, no," she answered slowly, "just answer the question, please. What year is it?"

After a moment he finally replied. "Why, it is 1753, of course."

1753…she thought. The year he was turned. "Of course. Of course." She stood and pulled him to his feet. He was surprised by her strength. "I know another place, one that’s much, much safer," she said, thinking, Giles is going to have a field day with this one. Maybe we should start keeping tract of how long it takes to research each threat to Sunnydale we come across and make a little contest. Each time we break the record we could have a pizza party or something. That was her hunger talking - she hadn’t had time for dinner. She smiled a little at the thought of pizza. Yeah, right.

"But what of the demons?" he asked fearfully.

She sighed. "Don’t worry," she replied. "They won’t hurt us if you’re with me. I know how to take care of the demons."

Spike took little pride in the fact that he had found the high school completely on his own again. Pride can come when I survive the night, he told himself, when I’ve convinced the Slayer and her Watcher that I am telling the truth. Just then he heard footsteps and melted into the shadows, watching. Lurking.

He recognized the young woman. It was Willow, the witch, the Slayer’s best friend. She was more beautiful than he remembered. Oh, please, no, God, he prayed, don’t make me another ensouled vampire in love with a mortal woman. Not another Angel and Buffy, Romeo and Juliet thing.

At that moment she turned into the light and he saw her face straight on. The sight made him wince.

He still thought her beautiful, but it pained him to see her so. He felt his tears coming.

Willow had attained full-fledged panic by the time she reached the high school. She could tell that she was still vamped out and she was glad she hadn’t somehow run into Buffy on patrol. She didn’t know what had gone wrong with the spell, but it was rather obvious that it hadn’t gone according to plan.

She stopped and leaned against the wall, trying to calm herself. She took a couple of (now unneeded) breaths. She turned and was now in the light of a street lamp. Deciding that it definitely wouldn’t be a good idea to go inside looking like a vampire, she began concentrating. "Calm down, Willow," she said aloud. "It’s only your best friends in the whole world. Giles will figure out what’s happened and then everything will be okay. Just calm down."

After a while she finally did relax and calmed down. And when she touched her face again, it had turned human again. That accomplished, she turned back towards the entrance and went inside, oblivious to the fact that Spike followed.

Giles looked at his watch for the hundredth time in five minutes. Where could they possibly be? he asked himself. First Willow, now Buffy, and come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Angel for several days and had anticipated the vampire’s arrival at some point.

Suddenly there was a creaking sound and he turned to see Willow quietly coming in. "Willow!" Giles cried out, a little louder than planned. "Dear child, where have you been?"

"Willow?" Xander lifted his head and looked at her groggily. "What’s going on?" Cordelia’s head remained down.

"Um, Giles?" Willow said slowly. "I think we have a problem."

She took in a deep breath out of habit. "Giles, I’d sit down if I were you. This is going to give you a major wiggins, and I need you to be…coherent and lucid once I’m done telling you all this."

"But, Willow, what could possibly-" Giles began, sitting down.

Willow interrupted. "Look, Giles, you’re not going to like this one single bit. Please, just let me explain. Believe me, I’m already more sorry than you can imagine. And don’t ask that question - we live on the Hellmouth. Anything’s possible."

"Very-very well, then, Willow. Do tell," Giles said as Xander sat up properly.

Willow took a seat across from them at the table. "I know you’ve never really like the idea of me playing with magic, but I’ve been doing it anyway. So far, I haven’t had any problems with any of the spells I’ve tried - until now. I found this one about a week ago and knew I had to try it, so I did. I did everything exactly like it said to - I’ve gone back over it a hundred times in my mind and I can’t see any mistakes. I made no substitutions, and I didn’t mispronounce anything. Once I finished, I think a bolt of lightning hit me and when I came to, I realized that something…strange had happened to me."

Giles frowned. "What sort of spell was it?"

Willow sighed and looked away. "It was supposed to make Angel human again," she told him softly.

Xander’s eyes bulged, but he kept his voice at a normal level. "You did what?!"

Willow gave him an odd look. "Why do you hate Angel so much? This would make Buffy so happy. Can’t you understand that? Besides, if he wasn’t a vampire anymore, there wouldn’t be any chances of him losing his soul again and hurting someone."

Xander refused to reply, so Giles did. "Please, Willow, the rest of your story. What happened to you?"

"I cleaned up the circle and started walking back here. I remember noticing that it wasn’t as dark as it should have been, and I wondered if I had been unconscious longer than I had thought and it was approaching dawn. Then, suddenly, I was scared. More scared than I’ve ever been. I stood for a few moments and kept walking when I had calmed down. I realized that I was getting close to the Bronze and suddenly I heard this voice. At first I thought it was Angel, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen; then I heard it again, and it was in my head and it wasn’t Angel, it was Angelus. Oh, God, oh, God." She started crying and hid her face in her hands.

Xander moved close to her, putting his arm on her shoulder. "Willow, it’s all right. What’s wrong? What happened with the spell?"

"This," she replied and looked up at him, completely vamped out.

"Eeeeeeeeeeeyyaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" Xander screamed, jumping back. "What the-!"

Giles moved back. "My God, Willow…"

She looked at them with her yellow eyes. "I know. I don’t know how it happened, or why, or anything. It just did. The spell worked. Angel’s human. I know it. But now I’m like this…and you can’t believe what it’s like. It’s awful." She buried her face in her arms on the table top.

Xander and Giles looked at each other, uncertain how to take the situation. "Willow?" Xander finally said. "It’ll be okay."

"Willow, you mustn’t give up hope," Giles told her softly. "If this was caused by a spell, I daresay a spell shall cure it."

Willow looked up, her face human again. "You think so?" she asked quietly. Giles nodded. "It may require some time, research, of course, but because you were not…brought over by more…eh, conventional means, I do not believe it is permanent."

She leapt up and hugged him. "Thank you, Giles. You have no idea what this means to me. To get her voice out of my head…I’m surprised the demon hasn’t driven Angel insane."

The two men looked at her. "What do you mean, Wills?" Xander asked.

"The voice I heard. It was Angelus, and it was in my mind. It was awful. It sounded so much like Angel, but it’s mean and evil - and then when it changed and it was her-"

"What do you mean, Willow?" Giles said. "It changed?"

"The voice of the demon - of course, I guess that means I still have my soul-"

"Yes, I had surmised as much," Giles told her.

"The demon talks to you and tell you to do all these horrible things…It’s awful. And now it’s her, and not Angelus-"

"Who, ‘her’?" Xander interrupted.

"You know, her. Me from the other dimension. Vamp-me. Evil Willow. I mean, it was Angel’s demon and then the voice changed and now it’s-it’s me. The other me. In my mind."

"Oh, Willow," Xander said and hugged his best friend. She hugged him back-

"Whoa - oxygen becoming an issue!" Xander yelped.

"Sorry," she told him sheepishly.

Spike lurked outside the library doors, listening to the strange conversation inside. He breathed a sigh of relief to learn that little Willow hadn’t been changed permanently, that there might be a cure for her. His heart and soul swelled at the revelation that she still had her soul.

But then he saw her through the crack, hugging that annoying boy - Xander - and he laughed out loud when she realized how much stronger she had become. The poor boy must have been shocked.

He laughed again. It felt good. His soul didn’t cringe at the happy sound for once.

Xander laughed. "Gee, Willow," he joked, "nice muscles. Wonder where Buffy disappeared to - then there’d be two girls around to protect little old me-"

"Shh!" Willow told him suddenly. "I heard something. Laughter."

"Huh?" Xander replied as she moved towards the doors.

"Willow - where are you going?" Giles asked cautiously.

She did not respond. The two men followed her at a safe distance. She opened the door to find -

"Spike?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"

He looked up at her. "Hey! Red! Nice to see-"

She cut him off by shoving him again a wall, a hand at his throat. "I said, what are you doing here?" This time her voice was not as kind.

He looked at her with fear. "I-um-er-"

She realized at that moment that he was staring at her, and there was something in his eyes other than fear - something she didn’t quite recognize.

She also realized that he wasn’t struggling or trying to fight her.

She dropped her hand from him and stepped back, confusion on her face. "What are you doing here?"

"Yeah, Spike," Xander said from behind Willow. "Answer her, or she’ll kick your butt again."

Spike looked around Willow. "Oh, um, hi, mate. Watcher. Nice stakes you’ve got there." He laughed nervously. "Oh, bother. I guess I’ll have to tell you the whole bloody story." He looked around. "Could we possibly not do this out here, with the weapons and all, mates?" he added, gesturing to the library doors.

"Oh, yes, of course," Giles said, a little nervous himself.

"But I’m telling you one thing, mates, love," he said, with an extra glance and a smile over to Willow, "just ‘cause I’ve got my soul like Peaches doesn’t mean I’m gonna turn into a brooding idiot like him. Sure, I’ll join your little monster-fighting parties and do all that, but I’m not him."

 All as one, the others stopped and turned towards him. "What did you say?" they asked in stunned synchronization.

Spike knew things were not going terribly well and he kicked himself mentally for telling them straight out about his soul. They didn’t trust him - and he didn’t blame them, remembering his earlier antics in Sunnydale, especially the last time - and he had just ruined the strategy and the plans he’d been working on. Blast the plans, he thought to himself, wouldn’t have worked anyway.

He walked over to the table in the center of the library and sat down. He glanced over at Cordelia, who was still asleep. "Doesn’t this girl have a home?" he asked. "Does she usually sleep here?"

"We were waiting for Willow and Buffy to return and the children fell asleep," Giles answered, not quite sure what to make of him. "Xander," he added, thinking quickly, "why don’t you help Cordelia get home?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Xander glanced between Spike and Giles, and then to Willow, who nodded in reply. If he gives them any trouble, between the two of them they can handle it, he decided, remembering how Willow had reacted only minutes before. Still he wished that Buffy, or even - he cringed - Angel was there.

He stepped over to Cordy, ignoring Spike, who had moved out of his way, as best he could. "Hey, Cordy, wake up," he said, shaking her softly. He looked up again, and Spike had moved into the shadows and he knew Cordy wouldn’t see him.

Once the cheerleader and the idiot boy were gone, Spike breathed a sigh of relief. Those two were unstable elements in his eyes - as well as civilians compared to the other two, and the Slayer and his sire.

"Okay, Spike," the red-headed beauty said, "what’s going on?" The Watcher hovered nearby, glaring at him.

Spike squirmed in his seat. "Eh, pet? Watcher? You should sit down, I’m thinking," he told them. He watched her sit down, his entire range of sight filled by her movement. She put her arms in front of her and leaned on them. He grabbed her hands, cupping them in his own, looking her directly in the eyes. "Please, pet," he said softly. "Tell me it’s true. Tell me you still have your soul."

Both she and the Watcher looked at him with a startled countenance. Finally she spoke. "Yes, Spike, I have my soul."

His reply startled them further. "Good. ‘Cause if you didn’t, I’d track those gypsies down myself. Now, who did this to you? I know it wasn’t Dru, she’s gone from us." He paused, closing his eyes for a moment, and then looked back at her. "And it wasn’t me, that’s for sure. It had to have been someone with power, a lot of power, since you and the Slayer are such friends."

"Er, Spike-"

Spike looked up. "Not now, Watcher. Let’s see then. God, no." He shuddered. "Damn it, I should have known. It was my bloody sire, wasn’t it? Old Angelus is back, isn’t he? He’s lost his soul again, hasn’t he?" At Angel’s name, Willow’s eyes had grown large and he felt like crying again. "It was him. It was. I can see it in your eyes. I’ll stake him myself. Don’t you worry." He stood, rounding the table, and knelt beside her, her hands in his again. "Don’t worry, love. You’re safe now. I’ll take care of him and then it’ll be all right."

She had been frozen in confusion ever since he’d started going on about her soul. What does he want? she asked herself. What is he doing here? Then he came to her and knelt before her like a promising knight, and now he was hugging her. "Um, Spike?" she ventured. No response. "Spike?" she tried again.

"Yes, pet?" His voice and his eyes were filled with concern. It unnerved her.

"What are you doing?" she asked finally.

He looked at her and realized that she didn’t have the slightest idea why he was there, or why he was hugging her. "Oh, pet," he said apologetically, "I’m sorry." He stood and returned to his seat. Looking over at the other man, he said, "You wanted to say something, Watcher?"

Giles stood nervously, looking at Spike. What in God’s name is he doing here? he asked himself. "Eh, er, Spike, if I might be so bold, what in Heaven’s name are you doing here?"

To his amazement, the vampire actually appeared to be afraid. Spike’s mouth opened but before he could speak-

Buffy didn’t know what to make of the situation. Every additional moment scared her. Angel didn’t remember her - and he was obviously human. What had happened? He followed her fearfully and she made no effort to speak to him. It was too confusing. Better to let Giles deal with it.

They entered the school. She heard voices coming from the library - Good. Someone’s there. She paused momentarily and then pushed open the doors, Angel, timid, at her heels-

"Buffy!" Willow cried out.

"Buffy!" Giles turned, startled.

"Willow? Spike? Giles?" Buffy asked in confusion. Then with a double-take, "Spike?"

"Hey, Buffy," Xander said, coming in behind her. "I see you’ve got Deadboy with you."

"Angel?" Willow and Spike asked in unison.

Uncomfortable silence. Giles sighed and cleaned his glasses. Finally Buffy said, "Okay. This is interesting. Someone mind telling me why Spike’s here?"

No one answered. Spike looked at Angel thoughtfully. "Question, Slayer," he said slowly. "How’d you make Angel smell like a human? Did you put a spell on him?"

Giles stared at Spike. "What did you say…?"

Liam Flannery looked at the strange blond man. "Spells? Witchcraft! I knew it! The Devil’s work is here!"

Willow nodded. "You’re right. He does smell human..." Then, in amazement, she added, "It worked! It really worked!"

Buffy looked at Willow. "How would you know what he…smells…like…?" Odd realization started to pass over her face, but was then replaced by confusion. Sighing, she dragged Angel to the table and had him sit in one of the chairs. "Okay. This is how it works. I tell my story of weirdness and then you guys get your turn, okay?"

She took a step away from them. Pointing at Angel, she said, "This is, strange as it may seem, a human being named Liam Flannery who claims that it is the year 1753. Take note that he looks just like Angel, and I think he really is Angel. But, somehow, he’s human and he’s got amnesia. My guess is that he doesn’t remember anything after Darla killed him. I found him in St. Matthew’s over on the other side of town. He thinks cars are demons and he can touch holy water and crosses, no problem."

Liam looked at the beautiful woman - the lady, Buffy - in panic. "I was killed? I’m…I’m dead? Oh, God, this is surely Hell!"

"Er, Spike," Giles said carefully, already falling into research-mode. "You wouldn’t happen to know if ‘Liam Flannery’ was indeed Angel’s real name, would you? It’s not in any of the Watcher’s Journals…and he never told any of us…"

Spike shrugged. "I don’t know. Someone told me once that Angelus was a nickname, I think, but he never told me his real name. Darla named him Angelus, I think. Or maybe the Master, ol’ Nest. I don’t know." After a moment he added, "Sorry."

"Quite -quite all right," Giles replied. He moved to question Angel himself. "I want to ask you a few questions. Do you think you can help me?"

Liam nodded.

"Your name?"

"Liam Andrew Flannery."

"Where are you from?"

"Galway, sir. My father keeps his home in the center of town. I still live with him and my family - well, I did until yesterday. We had…a falling out of sorts."

"What year is it?"

"Her ladyship asked me the same, and I answered true. Don’t you know, sir? Or is indeed - God forbid! - Hell?"

"I assure you, this is not Hell. We’re all very much alive. There’s simply been a bit of confusion among us. What year is it?"

"It is the year of Our Lord 1753, and to set you all straight and avoid any more confusion, it was the eighteenth of March yesterday. And I assure you, sir, of that - it was my birthday."

"I see. What is the last thing you remember, before waking up here?"

"I was in the pub. We’d been drinking all night for my birthday, and finally one of my friends - Connor - and I decided to go on home. We left and Connor just fell to the ground. The ale was mighty strong that night. I saw a finely-dressed lady, a blonde, in one of the side-streets and offered to escort her to her destination. I can’t remember what we said after that - the ale, you know - and then there was a pain in my neck, like she had bitten me. I must have given in to the ale because the next thing I remember is waking up here, in a strange room and in this strange place."

"God, and I thought I had bad birthdays," Buffy said, trying to break the tension. "She turned him on his birthday."

"Poor wanker," Spike agreed. There was a moment of silence.

"How old are you?" Xander suddenly asked.

"Six and twenty years, this past night," Liam replied.

"See, Buffy?" Xander told her. "I always knew he’d be too old for you, dead or alive."

"Xander, this really isn’t the time or place-" she began.

"Quiet, both of you," Giles said softly. "Now, er, Willow, if you would-"

"Tell my freaky story? Okay, here goes. I, um, found this spell a few weeks back that I thought I could use to try to make Angel human again." She darted a glance over to Liam, who watched on in detached confusion and fear. "So I did it, I followed the directions to the tiniest of details, all the herbs were fresh, I did everything right, and then at the end, it was like a bolt of lightning struck me…"

"…So now you’re a vampire?" Buffy asked, having heard Willow’s story. The redhead nodded, a frown on her face. "But I still have my soul, just like Angel did. What’s really kind of odd is that the - the demon’s there, but none of it’s memories have been carried over into me. Kind of makes me wonder if Angel will be able to remember anything of the last two hundred and fifty years when we get the spell reversed - if we can get it reversed," Willow added sadly.

"Did you say two hundred and fifty years?" Liam asked.

Willow nodded.

"Oh, dear Lord," he whispered and returned to his prayers, becoming once again oblivious to his surroundings. "Pater noster…."

Buffy giggled softly.

"What’s so funny?" Willow asked.

The Slayer gestured to her amnesiac, once-again-human boyfriend. "Angel told me once that he was a real jerk as a human. What’s the word? Oh, yeah. A rake. All he did was drinking and carousing by night. Not exactly the guy you wanted to bring home to the parental units, you know?" Willow nodded thoughtfully and Buffy continued. "He hadn’t been to a church for years without having been threatened with bodily harm by his father. And so now that he’s that person, that human being again and scared spitless, half-convinced he’s, like, in Hell - again - he’s suddenly taken up the religion thing again. He’s been praying ever since Giles finished his little interview, and I found him in a Catholic church earlier. It just strikes me as kind of off or odd or something."

Willow smiled. "Agreed. But it kinda makes sense. He was one of those live-for-the-moment kind of guys and now that his series of moments is threatened or whatever, he’s doing what he thinks he needs to do to survive."

Buffy frowned. "Have you been hitting the psychology books again?" she asked.

"My mom really liked this book she read last year by a professor here at UC Sunnydale. Maggie Walsh, I think her name was. So Mom bought another copy and left it on my bed the last time she went out of town. It was interesting, and kinda proved that she still knows I’m alive - my mom, I mean, not the psychology lady."

"Oh," Buffy replied.
 

TBC