Authors Note: Here are the specifications of the challenge:
Must have:
* Buffy meeting William, it doesn't matter how (in a dream, time travel etc.). Spike can be
in it too if you want.
Buffy & Spike/William living happily ever after.
* William writing a poem about Buffy (it doesn't have to be a good one)
Include at least 3 of the following:
The colour Green
A novel by Jane Austin
The song ‘Strong’ by velvet chain
A line by Shakespeare
* Buffy or Spike/William being injured and the other taking care of them
* A slap round the face
A top hat
It had been a long, hard, day. Buffy had been bothered and tormented till she felt like screaming. Since she had defeated Glory it seemed every other daemon in sunnyhell though it would come out and have a look around. Just today she had defeated a chaos demon, a Polgar Demon, dealt with Dawn wining because she wasn't allowed to go to her friends house from dinner and spent hours researching a stupid prophecy. The researching was the best part.
She relaxed back on to the bed. It had been a hard night slaying and she fully planed to get some sleep.
For a second she though she sensed something, something evil, but then dismissed it. It was only Spike. He was always hanging around outside her house. It was a good job she had uninvited him.
She was so tired that by the time the demon on the lawn leapt up to her windowsill she was fast asleep.
The demon quickly broke the lock and climbed in. He paused a second to admire the sleeping Slayer, who would have thought something so small could cause so much trouble. Then he cast his magic.
Suddenly the door flew open.
“Buffy,” Dawn cried. “I heard something. Are you allri...”
Her voice trailed of as she saw the demon leant over Buffy. Before she could even scream the demon was off, out of the window and across the lawn.
*~*~*~*~*
The streets of 19th century London were dark and musky. St Alburns street was no exception. The only light was where it met a junction with Crown street where some thoughtful soul had placed a candle on the window sill to help travellers see there way.
Buffy was confused. She had just found herself in the street, wearing a period dress. One minuet she had been asleep in her bed and the next she was here.
‘Must be a dream’ she thought. Slowly she began moving towards then end of the street when someone banged into her.
“Oh I'm terribly sorry,” the man who had banged into her spluttered. “Here let me help you.”
“Thank you,” she replied.
He immediately began to hurry of. Buffy reached out and grabbed his arm.
“I'm sorry but I'm lost,” she told him. “Perhaps you could tell me where I am?”
“Erm...” he stammered. “This is St Alburns Street. Erm. Why don't you just tell me where you want to go and I can direct you. I was never very good with street names.”
She froze. Where did she want to go? She had no idea where she was.
“Actually I just got into town,” she told him. “Do you know anywhere I can stay.”
“Well, of course,” he brightened. “How much money do you have.”
She felt silly. Who would have though she needed money in a dream.
“Well...”
“Oh I see,” he whispered. He just stood there, seeming reluctant to leave her out on the street.
“What's you name?” he asked her.
“Buffy,” she told him. “Buffy Summers.”
“I'm William Cole,” he replied. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
She smiled at him and he smiled back. Then he looked down at the floor. This was so awkward. She had no idea where to go.
“Erm.. Miss Summers,” he spluttered.
“Yes,” she asked, looking up at him.
“Erm... Well I have a... I have a spare room in my lodgings. You could stay there if you liked. Until you got yourself on your feet.”
“That'd be wonderful,” she replied, smiling. He offered his arm and she took it.
There was something about him that was familiar to her. She couldn't lay her finger on it though.
He led her through the dark abandoned streets to a large Edwardian house. He walked up the front steps and opened the door.
She followed him up into the house. It was ... dated. She supposed it might be modern for the time. He showed her into a sitting room then hurried of. He returned a short time later.
“All sorted,” he told her happily. “You may use my spare room as long as you need it.”
“Thanks,” she told him, smiling. This was all so life like, yet she knew it must be a dream. ‘Funny’ she thought ‘I've never had a dream where I knew I was dreaming before’
“Ahh,” William said. “Come along. Let's go into the parlour and I’ll get you some tea.”
He escorted her into the parlour. It was a largish room with lavish overstuffed red leather chairs and redwood furnishings. He rushed out of the room and came back a few moments later with some tea.
“I'm awfully sorry,” he exclaimed, “It's the maids day of so you'll have to have tea as I make it. I know it's not the best but...”
She smiled at him. He took this as a positive thing and handed her a cup, pouring the tea.
“Well, Miss Summers,” he said uncomfortably, trying to make conversation. “Erm ... you must be from America.”
“Yes. You could say that,” she replied. Trying not to use slang or anything that might make his suspicious. ‘Boy do I wish I’d paid attention in History class now’.
“You must have come in one the St. Louise, am I right. I was down at the docks this morning and that was the only ship I saw from America.”
“Yes. I was on that,” she replied hastily. There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment.
“Oh my, look at the time!” he exclaimed, pulling out his pocket watch. “I usually head down to the local tavern at about this time to meat some chums. Care to join me?”
“Umm...sure,” she replied.
*****
Dawn lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She could hear concerned mumbling through the door in Buffy's room. No-one knew what to do.
Giles had spent the entire day reading his books, trying to find out what the daemon that had been in Buffy's room was. He'd had no luck. Buffy hadn't moved all day. Someone had stayed with her the whole time but she just wasn't responding. Giles thought it was a coma.
She'd felt so helpless, as usual. Her sister lay lying, possibly dying, in the next room and there wasn't a damn thing she could do...or was there.
Slowly she got up and slipped out of the bedroom. No-one would notice if she went out for a walk. The fresh air would do her good, and if she ended up at Spikes crypt, well it wasn't her fault.
*****
The party was so different from what Buffy was uste to it almost wasn't a party at all. It was in a pub. The men stood around talking big important talk while the women flitted around smiling prettily.
She had been separated from William as soon as she had come in. Some tall man had taken her of to show her to his friends, like a prize.
Looking around she finally saw William sat on a flight of wooden stairs, leading up to the guest rooms. She made her way over to him and when he saw her he looked up and smiled.
“Hello Buffy,” he said, smiling. “Have a seat.”
“What are you doing?” she asked. She'd quickly got uste to having to say things the long way.
“I... I... I'm writing a poem,” he stuttered.
“Can I see it?” she asked.
“I’d rather you didn't just yet,” he told her, “It's not finished.”
“Well,” a voice boomed from above them. “If it isn't William the bloody!”
Buffy looked up at the tall man who was towering over them with a sense of dread. William the Bloody. They had called this sweet and kind man William the bloody. It couldn't be the same one.
“You know why we call him that miss?” the man asked. “Because of his bloody awful poetry.”
The group of people who had gathered all laughed.
“Would you like to see what I mean?” he asked and before she could reply he grabbed the paper out of Williams hands.
“Oh fair goddess,
Brightest star.
Shine from the heavens,
Where ever you are
You came in the breeze,
like a leaf from a tree
And blew me away
with your beauty.
Never leave fair goddess
Stay by my side
For I love you
Please be my bride.”
The crowd began to roar in laughter. She didn't see what was so funny, but then again she didn't really know anything about poetry.
Suddenly the lines of the poem came to her again. She ran them through her head.
“Oh fuck, it's about me,” she whispered.
Quickly she turned around to talk to William but he was gone. She leapt to her feet and ran outside to look fro him. It didn't take her long to find him. He was sat on the back steps sobbing.
“William,” she said, reaching out and touching his leg. He lashed out at her and then glared up at her.
She felt anger building up in her and before she could do anything about it she hit out and slapped his face. He looked totally stunned.
“Now,” she said. “Let's try to have this conversation without you crying, shall we?”
He sat there sulking. Clearly embarrassed.
“Was that poem about me,” she asked.
“Well I suppose it could have been about anyone. I think it's awfully rude of you to assume it was about you. In fact...” she slapped him again, “Yes it was.”
“We need to talk,” she told him.
“I'm sorry about you hearing the poem. It wasn't ready. I wasn't ready. It's just that you make me feel a way I've never felt before. You can't deny there's something between us Buffy.”
Memories came flooding back to her of another William making that speech, another William the bloody.
“Oh my god!” she exclaimed.
“I... I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn't have said anything. Now you'll just be upset and things will be strange between us...”
“No. I'm sorry,” she interrupted. “I... I'm just overloaded at the moment. Umm, how about we just leave it for now. I need to think, and I really don't feel so well.” v “Of course,” he whispered. “Let me help you home.”
*****
“Spike,” Dawn yelled, pushing open the door to his crypt. The vampire jumped out of his chair then cursed loudly when he realised it was only her.
“What do you want Nibblet, and what are you doing out on your own in the dark?”
“I just wanted to see you,” she told him frowning. “Is there a problem with that.”
“Yeah, and it's called Buffy,” he told her.
Suddenly Dawn burst into tears and threw her arms around him. She started to sob on his shoulder.
“Hey,” he exclaimed. It was bad enough that she trusted him, holding her while she cried on his shoulder was going a little to far. “What's wrong?”
“It's all my fault,” she wailed. He looked down at her quizzically.
“What is pet?” he asked her, awkwardly stroking her back.
“Buffy,” she wailed. “Last night... I went to her room...there was a daemon ... it sprinkled something...she wont wake up...no-one knows what's going on.”
“Shit,” he spat. It couldn't be. Last night when he had been wandering out and about he had seen a lazus daemon. They were daemons who killed there victims by putting them in a deep sleep with dreams so vivid that they never knew what was going on. He drained there energy while they slept and in a few days they would die.
“Doesn't Giles know what's going on?” Spike asked. Giles must. He was a bloody watcher for fuck sake.
“No one knows!” she wailed. “And it's my fault.”
“Shush nibblet,” Spike soothed, stroking her hair. “It wasn't your fault. I think I know what it is. Let's get to your house quick. If we hurry then it'll be easy to save her.”
*****
Giles paced the room like a caged animal. They had nothing. Dawn had only been able to provide a vague description that hadn't helped very much. He had spent hours pouring through texts looking for some reference to this but couldn't find anything.
Xander was sat on the couch staring into space. He felt as useless as Giles. He didn't know what was going on and even if he did he got the feeling there was nothing he could do.
Finally Giles sighed and sat down besides Xander. He removed his glasses and pinched the end of his nose. He just didn't understand what was going on.
At that exact moment the door flew open. Xander and Giles turned in surprise to see Dawn and Spike stride into the room. Giles immediately pulled out a stake and turned to Spike, holding it threateningly.
“Put your stake away,” Spike told him calmly, “I think I know what's wrong with your slayer.
“That is highly unlikely,” Giles told him, equally calmly. “I have exhausted all my resources and still found nothing.
“Ever heard of a Lazus daemon?” Spike asked. As Giles blanc expression he continued. “A Lazus daemon is a daemon who puts his victims into a deep sleep while draining there energy. I saw one yesterday. If I'm right the only way to wake the slayer up is to kill it.”
*****
Buffy lay in the giant bed. She was wearing an old fashioned night gown that came almost to her feet and her hair was braided to keep it from knotting.
She felt drained. She couldn't move her arms or her legs at all. She felt dead. It was an awful feeling. She didn't understand what was going on at all. She just lay there. She knew it must be some kind of magic but she didn't know what. That was not her job. Giles always told her what was causing trouble, she just killed it.
With great effort she looked around the room. It was big. Old fashioned. It must have been quite modern considering what year she was in actually but...
She was sick of being sick. She just wanted to go home.
There was a polite knock on the door. She managed to yell yes. Even that seemed like an insurmountable challenge.
William entered, obviously embarrassed to be finding her here. His maid had helped her into bed. Nice woman. She'd have to ask Spike what happened to her sometime, even though from her talks with Angel she guessed she didn't want to know. She might not ever get a chance.
“I'm sorry to disturb you,” he said.
“It's ok,” she replied. It was scary how rough her voice was.
“I was simply wondering if you had been able to think about the poem I wrote yet. It wasn't finished and I must admit it wasn't awfully good but the feeling, the sentiment was there. I know now’s not the best time to ask but, buffy, will you marry me.”
“William,” she sighed. “I'm sorry but I'm just not at that stage of my life when I'm thinking about getting married.”
His lip began to quiver and he clenched his fists. He looked like a little boy about to throw a temper tantrum.
“Well, if that's how you feel about it!”
“Oh grow up!” she said angrily, then she muttered under her breath “I think I like you better as Spike.”
*****
He rammed his booted foot angrily into the creatures middrift sending it flying across the cemetery. IT immediately got back up and ran at him, roaring.
Spike cursed as he dodged. It was strong. Of course it was, it had Buffy's strength. IT wasn't all that bright though. Most daemons weren't. You'd think these would be an exception with the way they killed but that came to them on instinct. Really, they were dumb.
As the daemon charged again he dodged then grabbed it's arm, using it's own momentum to swing it around into a tree. It hit it's head hard and was stunned for a second, just long enough for Spike to grab the sword he had been carrying from where it had landed when the daemon had first tackled him.
That was all he needed. He quickly spun around and brought the blade right through the daemons neck. Poof, of fell his head. That was it.
*****
He sat beside her bed, watching her. She looked so peaceful in her sleep. So calm. Like the weight of the world wasn't on her shoulders, like she wasn't the chosen one.
He wished he could see her like this more often. Just watch her sleep. He wondered if she would let him sometime. She sometimes paid him. He never asked anymore. He wasn't helping her for money, he was doing it for love and so the scoobie gang might accept him. It was quite sad actually.
HE watched as her eyelids slowly fluttered open, she looked round the room until her eyes found him. She smiled sleepily.
“Hi Spike,” she said softly. She tried to sit up but she was still very weak, her was having trouble lifting herself of the mattress. He quickly slipped in and slid his arm behind her, pulling her up.
She sat for a moment, perfectly still, then she moved further forward laying her head on his shoulder. He smiled to himself and lay his hands on her back.
“Spike,” she whispered, “What happened.”
He told her the whole story. She sat with her head on his shoulders, listening to him but not absorbing a word he was saying. His voice washed over her and she soon felt tired again.
“Spike,” she whispered when he was done.
“Yes,” he said.
“Never get your soul back, William is so boring,” then she kissed him, softly, right on his lips. It was suck an innocent kiss but it still made him want her.
She lay down on bed and within a few minuets was fast asleep.
THE END
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