Hopefully, she had got the measures right and would finally be able to quell her curiousity about the
       neutered vampire that she now counted as a reluctant friend. She added a lock of his hair with a flourish,
       proud that she’d managed to snip it without his knowledge.

       She had caught him unawares, which was hard enough to do as he seemed to constantly erect a
       self-defence barricade around himself, to stop people seeing passed the miserable vampire face. Even
       those he counted as friends.

       He never told her anything about his life as a human, but sometimes, she would see him sitting pensively,
       a pen and scrap of paper clutched in his hands, his eyes focused elsewhere and when she saw that look,
       she could try to imagine what he was thinking.

       There was more to him than met the eye, that much was certain. And she wanted to know what it was.

       Opening the crisp, old pages carefully, she read the words of the incantation, her voice trembling in
       excitement, as the buzz of magick ran through her.

       "I summon the images of times past, I call upon thee forerunner of that which is known." Dropping a small
       clove of garlic into the mix, she raised a hand again, continuing steadily. "Bring to me, in sleep, the man
       who once was and now is no longer. Show me the life of the demon."

       The bubbling in the small ‘cauldron’ rose to a frenzy, hissing and spitting, the solution growling like a living
       thing against the contraints of the container.

       "What are you doing, Red?"

       At the familiar voice, Willow shrieked, the book falling from her hands and knocking the boiling pot over,
       her mixture spilling all over the dark surface of the desk. "Oh no!"

       Flicking the light on, Spike raised his scarred eyebrow questioningly. "Made a little whoopsie, pet?"

       "Why did you do that?" Pulling her books and powders out of the way of the spreading puddle, she glared
       at him, as he bent to help her, lifting her heavy tray of herbs aside.

       "I was curious." He grinned at her, then hissed in pain, the tray slipping from his grasp, as he jerked his
       hand towards his chest defensively. "Bloody hell, red! What’s in that potion of yours?"

       "What?" Catching the tray, the books scattered across the floor, her green eyes rising to meet his
       sheepishly. "Uh…garlic…"

       "Great." Turning his hand over, he looked at the blistering skin with a wince. "Just fan-bleedin’-tastic."

       "Sorry." She mumbled feebly, gathering her scattered books again, a frown wrinkling her face. "Wait a
       damn minute, mister! You made me spill it! It’s your fault that you burnt yourself! No one else’s!"

       Spike grinned at her. "Look at you!" He laughed, shaking his head. "A regular little spitfire, ain’t ya?"
       Making his way to the tap, he hissed again as he ran the cold water over his injury. "Sorry about the mess
       though, pet. Did I ruin a spell of some kind or were you just making some garlic soup?"

       "It was…a spell." She reluctantly admitted, pushing her books back onto their shelves and cautiously
       approaching him, taking his hand gently in hers and examining the blistered flesh. "I wanted to see what
       someone in the past was like…"

       "And it involved garlic?" Rolling his eyes, the vampire forced a grin. "Was it for something to do with a
       vampire before it was vamped? Or did you add it for the Witchy smell? Will?"

       The redhead looked away sheepishly.

       "A vamp it is…" He rubbed his jaw with his uninjured hand thoughtfully. "You want to see Angel as
       drunken slob, Liam O’Brien?"

       Shook her head once. No.

       "Erm…" He frowned. "I don’t know any other…oh, bloody hell." Tilting her, chin, he gazed at her. "You
       wanted to see what I was like?" She nodded. "Trust me, pet. You didn’t miss much. I was exactly the same
       as I am now, only without the bleached hair and decent clothes."

       "So you were still a moron?" She teased weakly.

       Spike nodded vigourously, with a wide grin, knowing his secret was still safe for the time being. "That I
       was, pet. That I was."

       Snuggling into her pillows, Willow yawned, her tired mind slowly shutting down and appreciating the
       silence of the dorm room for once.

       Buffy was staying with Riley, wherever, and Willow – for one – didn’t want to know what they were getting
       up to. She had spent a long while chatting with Spike while they tidied up the mess of her spell, but she
       hadn’t found anything new about him.

       Her eyes sank closed and she was about to embrace the familiarity of dreamland when she heard a
       hesitant tapping on the bedroom door.

       With a grunt of disgust, she shambled to her feet, rubbing her sleepy eyes and made her way across the
       room, tripping over a chair and Buffy’s weapons sack before, she reached the door and groped around for
       the handle.

       Pulling it open, she rubbed her eyes, her silky red hair falling in messy swathes across her face as she
       tried to focus on the person who had disturbed her. "Who are you?" She mumbled grumpily, blinking at the
       figure silhouetted by the lights flooding in from the hall.

       "Er…sorry to disturb you." A undeniably familiar British accent sheepishly spoke from the face that was
       slowly coming into focus. "I’m William Covington…could you possibly tell me where I am? Miss?"

       Clutching his books of poetry nervously, William ‘the Bloody-Awful’ Covington blinked owlishly over his
       spectacles at the young woman who lay sprawled on the floor in a dead faint.

       "Bloody hell," He whispered, his mouth dry. "Mother’s never going to believe me this time."

       Rubbing her head, Willow winced, suddenly becoming aware that she wasn’t in her comfy bed. She was
       lying on the floor with a pillow stuffed under her head and a very stiff neck.

       She also noticed that she wasn’t alone.

       Shakily rolling to her knees, she got to her feet and turned to the young man sitting on the chair, hugging
       his books to him like a life preserver, a blank expression on his familiar face.

       "William?" She tested the name on her tongue, gently touching his shoulder. "Are you…all right?"

       Raising tearful blue eyes to her, the human-that-Spike-once-was stared at her fearfully, wetting his lips.
       "Please, miss." He whispered shakily. "Where am I? I want to go home."

       "Please…don’t cry…" Willow was lost. This wasn’t Spike. This wasn’t the cock-sure, arrogant vampire that
       she knew. This version of William the Bloody seemed little more than a frightened kitten. "I’m sorry. I
       brought you here by accident…it wasn’t meant to work this way…"

       "B-brought me here?"

       Nodding, she gave him a wry smile. "I’m a witch." She explained, jumping back a step as the young man
       leapt to his feet, backing away from her, his face pale. Going over her words, a hand flew to her mouth.
       "Not a bad witch. I’m a good witch! A wicca…I help people."

       "Who are you?" He stared at her, his eyes wide with fear. She definitely didn’t look dangerous. In fact, she
       really was quite becoming, although her outlandish garb was disgustingly short and very revealing, even
       for a witch.

       "I’m Willow." Reaching over, she flicked the desk lamp on and smiled at him in as friendly a way as
       possible. "Why don’t you sit down. Are you thirsty? Hungry? I could get you something to eat if you want?"

       Shaking his head in nervous dissent, he sat back down on the chair, his eyes never leaving her face, as
       she started pacing across the room. "What is this place?" he finally asked, hugging his books closer.

       "Uh…you’re in Sunnydale, California in the United States of America and it’s the year 1999." Willow briefly
       wondered how stupid she sounded to a man from over a hundred years before.

       Letting her eyes wander over him, she took in the high-collared shirt, the suit, the glasses and the long,
       naturally pale-brown hair pulled back in a tight ponytail at the base of his neck. Definitely nothing like
       Spike.

       "But that’s impossible!" He exclaimed, dropping his books in his lap and pulling off his spectacles,
       methodically cleaning them in a frenzied manner not dissimilar to Giles. "It is but 1873!"

       Several of the books slipped from his lap and landed at her feet, a scatter of papers falling from between
       the covers. His blue eyes stared at her fearfully, as she bent and started to gather them up, her eyes
       moving across the scrawl.

       "Did you write this?" She asked, almost grinning at the corniness of the words, even by the standards of
       the nineteenth century.

       Snatching his books almost petulantly out of her hands, his face turned a deep shade of scarlet, his eyes
       staring hard at the ground. "Mock me, then. Everyone else likes nothing better than to mock me."

       "But," She hesitated for less than a moment, before tilting his chin up with her fingertips and giving him a
       smile. "I’m not everyone."

       His nervous blue eyes met her understanding green. "I do not understand this." He spoke softly,
       swallowing hard. "But I would like to know why I am here. I would like to return to London."

       Willow blew out a swift breath. How do you tell a gorgeous, shy, romantic nineteenth century man that he’s
       going to get killed and turned into a vampire then join the group known as the Scourge of Europe?

       "Give me five minutes, then I’ll see what’s the what."

       A frown furrowed his brow. "I beg your pardon?"

       "Oh…right…" With a wry smile, she tried to amend her words. "I’ll put something more appropriate on, then
       we can find someone who may be able to help you get back to London."

       Offering the pretty young lady his arm, William smiled gallantly, trying to fight down the fear he had been
       quashing since she had told him she was a witch. She had been nothing but courteous to him and for that
       he was grateful.

       She had changed out of her previous garb – clothing that seemed little more then tragically short blomers
       and a loose corset. Now, she was clad in a long, leaf-green skirt and dark blouse that made her green
       eyes and red hair positively glow.

       Smiling at the non-vampire Spike, Willow couldn’t help but wonder what had made him become such a
       monster. True, there was the demon, but this man was a gentle as a kitten, too gentle to harm another
       living soul.

       Tucking her left arm through his right, she felt a tingle run through her as he took her left hand in his.
       "William, why is it that you are so shy?" Great, Willow. You pull the human right out of his time zone and
       reality and then ask questions that will just embarrass the poor guy even more.

       Ducking his head, he gave her a nervous smile. "I don’t really know." He replied quietly, his accent much
       more pronounced than Spike’s. "With a beautiful, effulgent lady on my arm, I feel unworthy."

       "I’m effulgent?" Barely able to squeak, she exchanged a shy smile with him, both blushing. **Oh, Goddess!
       I’m falling for the human version of Spike…and the demon-big-bad-vampire Spike…this is so not good!**

       "You’re more than effulgent." He continued, his thumb brushing across the back of her hand, his eyes
       focused on her as they walked. "Your hair is like flames, dancing in the wind and your eyes are like the
       grass of the fields…and they were right. I’m a bloody awful poet."

       "I’ve heard worse." She smiled up at him, the soft warmth of his skin against hers not entirely unpleasant.
       Going through his words, she looked at him curiously. "Is that how you got your nickname? William the
       Bloody?"

       With a weak nod, he replied. "They thought it was bloody funny, damn aristos."

       "I like it." She patted his hand gently. "It’s a...strong name. It makes you sound dangerous and powerful."
       Inclining his head, he gave her a look that reminded her far too closely of one of her own expression. It
       was the look that said ‘I know that you’re humouring me, but it’s very nice so I won’t object’.

       **Goddess…he’s just like me!**

       "Look, Peaches," Pacing furiously across the floor, Spike whirled to face his Sire, eyes blazing. "I don’t
       know what the hell you’re on about. I’m not in any danger...at least, not any more than I’ve been facing with
       this soddin’ chip in my head."

       Angel’s stoic expression gave none of his anxiety away. "Cordelia had a vision." He repeated stubbornly,
       crossing his arms over his broad chest. "She said that she saw you...but not..."

       "Well that just fills me with confidence." The blonde vampire dropped heavily onto the sofa, propping his
       feet up on the low coffee table with a sigh of frustration. "And does the almighty Slayer know you’re here
       yet?"

       The shadows that always played on Angel’s face seemed to deepen, as he withdrew into the darkness on
       the far side of the room, despite all the lights being on. "No." He replied quietly.

       Spike raised an eyebrow. "You did the shadow thing again, mate." He remarked dryly. "And you know
       shes going to kick your ass for coming up here without any warning...especially after your last...spat."

       "I’m not here for her." Balling his fists, Angel reined his anger. "You’re in some kind of danger and I don’t
       want to lose one of my only surviving childer."

       Sniffing, Spike pretended to mop his eyes. "I’m touched." Stretching his arms out along the back of the
       couch, he turned his face to his Sire. "So...if I was in this vision, what was happening to me?"

       Leaning against the wall, Angel picked his words carefully. "Cordelia said," He began awkwardly. "It
       looked like you were...vanishing."

       "So, what were you doing, when you found yourself here?" Gesturing to their surroundings, Willow inclined
       her head, trying to keep the young man’s attention from wandering. He was obviously fascinated by all that
       he was seeing.

       William looked around the campus, his grip on her arm tightening. "I had just left the gentlemen’s club." He
       replied guardedly. "I was walking through the streets and a dark-haired woman was approaching me..."

       A sudden thought hit the girl. What if she had somehow altered history by bringing the mortal William to the
       present? What if she prevented an action that meant he met the vampires? Would that mean Spike would
       never come into existence? How could she mess up her spells so consistantly?

       The man on her arm was still talking softly, something about a girl called Cecily and him being below her
       and how angry and frustrating the aristocrats had been that night, taunting him, laughing at him. The
       bitterness in his voice startled her, but no more than the unshed tears that gleamed in his pale blue eyes.

       "I’m sorry." She could see why he would hate people now. If everyone had been as cruel and genuinely
       mean to him, especially the woman he loved, he could see how he would accept death and dish it out to
       others just as easily.

       Her voice was so soft, he wasn’t even certain he heard her. This strange, mysterious young woman was
       showing him more compassion than he had known in his entire life, her green eyes shining with sympathy.
       He didn’t know what to say. How do you respond to such gentle tenderness?

       Lowering his head, he gave her another tiny smile, squeezing her hand. She returned the gentle squeeze,
       accepting what he couldn’t find the words to say.

       "Hey Wills!" A new voice interupted the pair, William’s face paling notably at the sight of a different, young,
       dark-haired man – accompanied by a woman – apparently on familiar terms with the red-head. "Whose
       your...friend?"

       "You won’t believe this," Willow gave the dark-haired man a mischievous grin. "I would like you to meet
       Mister William Covington. William, this is Xander and his girlfriend, Anya."

       "He looks just like Spike." Anya commented. "Only with worse taste in clothes."

       Xander looked like he was working through several very confusing thoughts, then blinked. "William? As in
       ‘the bloody’? As in ‘Spike’?"

       "I beg your pardon!" William cried indignantly. "Simply William will suffice for the likes of you." He turned to
       Willow and said, sotto voce. "You have to admit he has deplorable manners."

       Willow patted him on the hand gently. "It’s all right, Wiliam." She soothed, nodding at Xander in answer to
       his question. "He’s always been like that. Most males are these days, you know."

       Both Xander and Anya stifled snorts of laughter.

       "Erm...yeah...well." Looking at his girlfriend, Xander gave Willow a grin. "We’ll go and leave you
       and...er...William to get better acquainted."

       "Has he met Spike yet?" Anya tried not to giggle at the thought.

       "Spike?" William’s brow furrowed in confusion, his eyes pivoting to Willow. "Who is this Spike character?"

       Willow glared at the couple. "I’ll explain when we get to my friend’s house." She replied, staring daggers at
       the duo. "Goodnight, you two."

       "Night, Wills." Xander winked, then – in a dire approximation of a British accent- said jovially. "And,
       William, absolutely marvelous meeting you, old boy."

       "That young man was a bloody disgrace." William confided as soon as Xander was out of earshot, his
       eyes blazing with vehemence. "And I believe he mocked me. If he weren’t a friend of yours, I would..."

       "You would what?" Willow fought back a smile.

       "I would have serious words with him about his conduct in front of beautiful young ladies, such as
       yourself." He stated firmly.

       Blushing at his words, the young witch was surprised to realise that they had already reached Giles’
       appartment block, recognising the old rust-bucket of a car sitting outside the garage.

       "Before we go in," She looked up at the window. "You might see some strange things...don’t be afraid."

       With a gallant smile, he raised her hand to his lips, gently placing a kiss on her palm. "I walked with a
       witch." He replied. "I am certain I can face whatever monsters you have lurking there."

       Willow flushed, keeping silent as they walked up the stairs, but the little voice in her mind yelled at William
       "I wouldn’t be so sure!"

       *

       A knock at the door and a punch from Spike stirred him out of it. "Hey, mate, door now, aromatherapy
       later."

       "I’ll get it." Giles shambled through from the kitchen, as the two vampires glared at each other in mutual
       dislike. Pulling the door open, the Watcher’s voice floated back to the pair. "W-Willow? What are you doing
       here? And whose your friend?"

       The two stepped into the room, as both Angel and Spike turned to face the door.

       If it were possible, Angel visibly paled, his mouth opening and shutting wordlessly, his brandy-brown eyes
       wide in astonishment as he stared at the figure who stood nervously behind his young friend.

       "I...um...had a little accident." Willow gave the former librarian a sheepish look.

       Glancing beyond the Witch, Spike frowned, taking in the uncertain figure.

       "Who’s that with ya, Red?" He vaulted over the couch and approached the pair, noting Willow and Giles
       both stepping back simultaneously, the red-head’s eyes directed at the floor. "He looks a right ponce."

       "Bloody hell!" The other man exclaimed, sounding exceptionally like a flustered Giles. "Y-you said there
       would be strange things...not more rude ones!" Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he took a step closer to the
       bleached blonde. "How can you abide such ungentlemanly behaviour?"

       "Well, mate." Spike grinned. "I haven’t been a gentleman in a bloody long time."

       The flustered human glared at him. "I can tell, you villain." He stated, taking a protective step closer to
       Willow. "I can’t imagine you ever having being anything but beneath everyone."

       "Beneath...everyone...?"

       Both men stared at one another, narrowing their eyes and Willow was hard-pressed not to intervene, as
       their eyes slowly widened, both realising what it was they were actually seeing.

       "I think we should have a little talk about this hobby of yours, Willow." Giles remarked sternly to the little
       Witch, his arms folded across his chest seriously, as both the human and the vampire keeled over in a
       dead faint.

       "Bloody hell." Clutching his head, Spike struggled to sit up, blinking as he focused on Willow’s concerned
       face floating in the blur above him. "I just had the weirdest dream, luv. You brought..."

       "Bloody hell." William leaned up on his elbows, staring at the man leaning over him. "Who the devil are
       you?"

       Spike fell back with a groan. "It wasn’t a dream."

       "Sorry." The red-head looked like she was about to cry. "I didn’t mean it to happen like this but when you
       touched my potion..." She trailed off with a pathetic sniffle, drawing both William and Spike’s attention.

       "Look what you did, you idiot!" William exclaimed, shakily rising to his feet and staggering over to her.
       "You made the lady cry!"

       "Idiot?" Spike growled savagely , swiftly pulling Willow into his arms and holding her tightly, his demon
       threatening to rise. "I’ll show you just whose the bloody idiot, you bloody frilly-knickered poof!"

       The red-head couldn’t help but giggle softly despite her tears. "Uh...Spike?" She squeaked, a hand
       pressed over her mouth to stifle her laughter. "That frilly-knickered poof is you, remember."

       "I beg your pardon!" William stared from her to the vampire, horrified. "I dispute that! Vehemently! There is
       not a chance that this fiend is me! I would never make a lady cry intentionally!"

       Spike sighed. "Angelus, mate, why did you and Dru bother turning me?"

       Angel said nothing, his brown eyes moving from the shy young man to the street-walking demon, his heart
       wrenching at the memories, as he took in William’s long hair and old-fashioned garb. So many memories.

       "William," Wriggling out of Spike’s grasp, she sat on the couch, gesturing for him to sit beside her, Spike
       on her other side. "I told you I brought you to the present because I wanted to meet someone from the
       past...but that’s not the whole truth." His blue eyes reflected nothing, as she continued. "Spike, here...he’s
       you. You got turned into a vampire by Angel and this is the future you."

       Dubiously looking from the bleached man to the black-haired man, he frowned. "I don’t understand."

       "What is there that you don’t understand?" Spike leaned around Willow and let his demon visage rise.

       "B-Bloody hell!" Falling backwards off the couch, William’s hands flew up to straighten his glasses, his
       eyes warily fixed on the bleached vampire. "You have to be pulling my leg!"

       "Sadly, he’s not." Giles sat down on the chair near the couch, taking off his glasses and polishing them
       pensively. "He and Angel are but two of the many vampires in this part of the world."

       "And you allow them into your very home?" William shook his head. "This goes against all I was taught by
       the Watcher’s Council..." Halting, he stared around at them, a look of fear on his face. "Forget I said..."

       "You think I don’t remember that?" Spike grinned wryly at his nervous human counter-part. "I never
       actually told anyone that I was a Watcher-in-training though..."

       Angel pressed his fingers to his temples in a gesture of exhausted confusion, Giles’ mouth opened and
       shut several time and Willow simply blinked.

       "I turned a Watcher?" The dark vampire was the first to speak.

       Spike grinned at his Sire. "Told you I was special, mate." He chuckled, turning his attention back to his
       past-self and the red-head on the couch. "Are you happy now, Will? You’ve seen the old me...whaddya
       think?"

"IthinkthatyouwereverycutenadifyouwerealivetodayI’dprobablylikeyoualotmorethanIreallyshould." Not pausing for a breath, she ducked her head to avoid his startled look, her cheeks flaming.

       "Aw, bugger." He groaned, his head lolling back against the couch. "You’ve gone and got a crush on little
       Will, haven’t you?"

       "A crush?" William looked at the blushing red-head, then back at his future-self uneasily. "I think I must be
       victim to such a malady myself...a crush on Willow." He smiled ruefully, his face flushing. "She is
       astonishingly effulgent, is she not?"

       Spike gave a low moan of despair, slapping a pillow over his face with a groan. "I don’t bleedin’ well
       believe it...I can’t believe I used to act like that...I was such a bleedin’ nancy boy!" Sitting up, he narrowed
       his golden eyes at his past-self. "Don’t you ever use that bloody word again, do you hear me?"

       "What would you do to prevent me using ‘that bloody word’?" William glared at the demon, determined not
       to be put down or shamed by another person in front of the red-haired lady.

       "Watch it, mate." Growling, Spike bared his fangs, until Willow’s hand gently turned his face to her.

       "Stop that." She smiled, running her fingers lightly over the ridges of his forehead, smoothing them down.
       "You can’t hurt him, because he’s you. If you hurt him, you just hurt yourself."

       Meeting the witch’s green eyes, the vampire grinned wryly at her. "You know something, red." He raised a
       hand and brushed her hair back from her face, the wondering expression in his eyes taking her breath
       away. "He was right, luv. You are bloody effulgent."

       "Ahem?" William shifted himself to sit back on the sofa beside them, one of his hands reaching out and
       taking Willow’s, tangling his fingers through hers. "Why else would I have said it, you pillock?"

       Willow felt like she was melting. It was true, she had always been attracted to the bleached vampire, but
       now...**Goddess!** Now, she had both the warm-and-fluffy human and the sexy-as-sin vampire vying for
       her affections.

       "Just another weird day on the Hellmouth." She feebly tried to joke, her voice faltering into a squeak, as
       Spike laid a possessive hand on her thigh, glaring at William in silent challenge.

       Angel looked at the trio, then to Giles, a despairing expression on his face. "This can’t possibly get any
       worse, can it?"

       The door swung open and Giles gave the weary vampire a sheepish look, as Buffy stepped into the room.

       "You just had to ask, didn’t you?"
       *

       "What the hell is going on here?" All faces turned to the startled Slayer, William rising to his feet, never
       relinquishing his grasp on Willow’s hand.

       Scrutinising the scantily-clad girl, the Watcher-in-training turned to the ex-Watcher with a look that spoke
       measures of his opinion of Buffy’s taste in clothes. "So this is your Slayer?"

       "Who’s this?" Looking from Giles to the long-haired young man, she held up a hand in confusion. "And
       how does he know I’m a Slayer? Do I have a sign above my head saying ‘Slayer here’?" She paused,
       focusing on the shadow in the corner. "And what is HE doing here?"

       Giles took his glasses off and scratched his head. "This," He replied. "Is William Covington, a
       Watcher-In-Training from 1873, soon to become Spike. He knows who you are because he’s not bloody
       stupid and HE is here because aforementioned Spike is in some kind of trouble."

       "Uh?"

       Willow leaned over the back of the couch, as William resumed his position beside her, grinning weakly at
       the Slayer. "I kinda did a spell, Buffy." She said, trying not to giggle as one warm hand and one cool hand
       traced patterns on her ankles. "I brought Spike’s human self here..." Turning to the two men on the couch
       beside her, she glared at them both in turn and hissed. "Stop that!"

       Identical wicked grins made her heart skip a best, as she twisted and slipped back down between the pair,
       her blush returning tenfold.

       "Spike’s human-self?" Buffy looked vaguely confused. "A Watcher?"

       "Yeah, Buffy." Angel said quietly, trying to get past the undeniable tension in the room. "He is here and
       present-day Spike is now in some kind of danger because of it and showed up in one of Cordelia’s
       visions."

       "You must have been having a slow week." She quipped, trying to fight the pain that ran through her at
       having him so close.

       Smiling sadly at her, he nodded. "You have no idea."

       "Those two are in love?" William murmured, sotto voce. Willow nodded. "A Vampire and a Slayer?"

       Another nod answered his question. "It’s all rather poetic, isn’t it?"

       Giles looked from William to Spike, tempted to laugh.

       "Don’t you bloody think about it!" Spike cautioned the former-Watcher, glaring at his past-self again. "I
       know I was a pillock, but you don’t need to rub it in, okay?" Turning his attention to Willow, he growled.
       "You had to make me look a complete twat, didn’t you?"

       "You did a damn fine job of it yourself." William retorted, making the red-head start to giggle. Patting her
       gently on the arm, he turned her face to him and smiled, running his fingers down her cheek. "I think I’m
       besotted."

       "Why you..." Spike lunged for the human version of himself, falling off the couch with a yell of pain and
       clutching his head for less than an instant before withdrawing his hand and staring at it. "Bloody hell..."

       Leaning forward, the Witch and William looked at the vampire with concern. "What is it?"

       Raising his hand, Spike shakily whispered. "I’m...vanishing!"

       And there, where his fingers had been, there was nothing, his hand starting to fade away to nothingness
       under their startled eyes.

       Flicking through page after page of spell, Willow’s eyes skimmed through the words as fast as she could,
       her heart thundering against her ribcage as she searched for the reversal spell for a spell that had gone
       severely wrong.

       Giles had explained what was happening, at least to the best of his knowledge: With William’s absense
       from the past and growing attachment to a certain figure in the future, he was changing the order of time
       which seemed to suggest that if he stayed any longer, Spike would simply vanish out of existance, closely
       followed by William himself, as the spell wore off.

       Not even wanting to try and understand the ex-Watcher’s babbling, she had immediately decided that
       William had to be the one to go, because, if she had never met Spike, she would never have met the
       human version either.

       Thinking of Spike, she felt a pang of guilt. The upper half of his body was starting to fade out of existance
       and he was growing weaker and weaker by the minute, a strange pain tearing through him.

       He had actually cried from the fear and the pain. That was something she had never expected him to do.
       She hated seeing him so vulnerable and terrified, knowing it was all her fault.

       Now, they knew why Angel was here. More than once, in the last couple of hours, Spike had lost control of
       his demon, as she and William searched the books with Giles. He had tried to attack and feed off each of
       them, the pain from the chip and the pain in his body overwhelming his rational mind.

       It was at times like these that only Angel, as his Sire was strong enough to control him at all.

       Both of them were huddled in the corner at that moment, Angel crouched over Spike’s animalistic body, the
       Sire growling against the childe’s ear in a dominating, yet reassuring way, holding him down and trying to
       calm him, letting the blonde suckle on a narrow cut in his wrist.

       Buffy stood over them, in case the younger vampire got loose, her eyes filled with concern for both of
       them. Despite her harsh words, she did actually quite like Spike, in a strange way.

       "Here!" William gave a triumphant cry, stabbing his finger down on a page, pointing at a reversal spell.
       "This should completely undo the whole spell. You just need to combine our blood, then say an
       incantation."

       Willow felt a surge of relief running through her and made her way across to where Angel and Spike
       crouched, gently pushing Buffy aside and kneeling down beside the two demons.

       "Spike?" His golden, tear-filled eyes turned to her, a flicker of recognition shining there, beyond the pain.
       "I’m sorry." She whispered, tentatively stretching out her hand and stroking the ridges above his eyes.

       Whimpering, he stared at her pleadingly, closing his eyes as she lowered her head and tenderly kissed
       him. "Don’t worry."

       "Hurry, Will." Angel’s tone was clipped, harsh, his blazing eyes meeting hers urgently. "We don’t have
       much time left. He’s getting desperate."

       Nodding, she accepted the bowl from Giles, then turned to Angel. "Can you...?" She faltered off, as Angel
       grabbed the younger vampire’s wrist and plunged his teeth into the skin, drawing a spurt of crimson,
       Spike’s whimpers and growls increasing.

       Catching the blood in the dish, she returned to William, who was waiting, a small kitchen knife in his hand.
       Meeting her eyes sadly, he sliced his palm with a wince, his eyes never leaving hers as he let the blood
       trickle into the bowl.

       "I’ll go and mix it." Giles offered, taking it out of her hands. "You say your good-byes, then we have to do
       this."

       Nodding reluctantly, she turned to William, her eyes full of tears, but she couldn’t say why. Because she
       knew what she was sending him back to? Because she knew she was going to destroy him? Because she
       had seen something in him that she had never seen in the vampire?

       "Don’t cry, Red." Cupping her face in his soft hands, he pressed his forehead lightly ot hers, brushing the
       tracks of her tears away with his thumbs. "I’d hate for your pretty eyes to be ruined."

       "You called me Red." She sniffed softly, tracing her fingers across the back of his hands, blinking away
       her tears. "Only Spike calls me Red."

       Looking over at the vampire version of himself, William nodded. "I know." He said softly. "I only wish you
       could be with me as a mortal...that I didn’t have to get turned and become a demon in order to meet you..."
       Staring at him hopelessly, Willow wrapped her hands into his long, soft hair and pulled his mouth down on
       hers, kissing him hungrily, her tears mingling with his, a salty tang infiltrating their lips.

       On the other side of the room, Spike whimpered softly in his Sire’s tight embrace, watching the pair
       together.

       "I’ll wait for you." She whispered, pulling back from him. "Remember that when you become him, won’t
       you?"

       Nodding silently, he lifted her palm to his lips and gently kissed it, his pale blue eyes rising to meet her
       green ones with a sad little smile. "Promise me something too, Willow?" She nodded. "Burn my poems."

       "Are you sure...?"

       With a laugh that was half-sob, he nodded. "They were right." He whispered, pulling her into a hug,
       burying his face in her hair. "I was bloody awful."

       "Willow? William?" The pair looked at Giles apprehensively, clinging to one another desperately. "It’s
       time."

       London – 1873

       Blinking in the dizzyingly bright light, William felt a surge of...something run through him. Electricity?

       Then he was back, sitting on the same bale of hay as before, the dark-haired woman standing over him, a
       serene, myterious look on her pretty face. Blinking the flashing afterglow away, he turned to her, knwoing
       this had to be something to do with his fate as a vampire.

       Apparently he had landed right back in the conversation he had commenced with her, but he found he was
       no longer afraid.

       "Your wealth lies here..." She pointed to his heart and his head in succession. "And here. In the spirit
       and...imagination." A mysterious smile played on her lips. "You walk in worlds the others can't begin to
       imagine."

       **Been there and done that and fell in love with a wonderful girl.** Her words carried him back to the
       person he was, temporarily banishing all thoughts of Willow. "Oh, yes! I mean, no! I mean...mother's
       expecting me."

       Opening his shirt, the dark woman purred. "I see what you want. Something glowing and glistening.
       Something... effulgent."

       **Willow** Soft as a sigh, he breathed. "Effulgent."

       "Do you want it?"
       William nodded eagerly, knowing what this all meant, the image of a weeping red-head girl rising up in his
       memory. "Oh, yes!" He touched the vampiress tentatively, hungrily. "God, yes."

       He was barely aware of her fangs descending and plunging into his throat, his mind entirely consumed
       with the memory of another girl in another time and place. "I won’t forget." He promised himself.

       *

       After spotting her in the Magick Shoppe, Spike felt a memory stirring. He knew the little chit, the red-head,
       but why? Where from?

       No matter.

       He would get her and make her do the spell. Walking into the room where she and her friend were playing
       with the hocus pocus, he grinned wickedly, grabbing Xander round the throat, ignoring the girl’s shriek.

       "I need to borrow the little girl. You don't mind, do you?" Not that it would make much difference if you did,
       mate. I’m taking her with your permission or without.

       There was a pathetic, futile little fight put up by the two kids – the red-head and the annoying boy, but
       nothing that he – the Big Bad – couldn’t handle himself, along with his usual dose of cynical humour.

       "Threatening me? That's not nice." He chuckled evilly, making certain to scare the girl. "We're all gonna be
       very best friends."

       She was scared. Scared then and still scared when he got her to the factory, dragging her in and telling
       her in no indirect terms. "A spell. For me. You're gonna do a spell for me."

       She just stared at him, as if he were crazy. "Uh, what kind of spell?"

       Spike sighed. "A love spell! Are you brain dead?" Going to the dresser, he continued to speak. "I'm gonna
       get what's mine." Grabbing a bottle, he eyed her. "What's mine." He uncorked the bottle, looking away
       from her. "Teach her to walk out on me."

       Downing some of the liquid, he grimaced, then turned to the red-head, the tearful expression on her face
       stirring more memories from a time he wished he could remember in its entirity.

       Her penetrating gaze on him made him feel uneasy, suspicious. "What are you staring at?"

       Immediately the little chit looked away, terrified. "Nothing!"

       That was more like. Leering at her, he continued to threaten and taunt her, until it became too much, all his
       memories and sadness at the loss of his black queen flooding him like a tidal wave

       Pouring out his sorrows onto the poor chit’s ears, sitting on the bed beside her, he buried his face in the
       red-head’s shoulder, sobbing. "God, I'm so unhappy!"

       "There, there." Patting his knee gently, she tried to give him some reassurance, but it only stirred more
       memories, making him all the more infuriated at her and her teasingly familiar face.

       He couldn’t stand it. He was here to get his black queen back,. Not to revel in the scent and memories of
       some chit he could never even recall meeting before the incident in the Magick Shop.

       Turning his attention away from the memories, he settled back to scare the fiery little chit some more.

       *

       He was gone.

       He had left her and all the times they had shared behind.

       Flopping down on her bed, Willow criss-crossed her fingers in tangle, her hands resting on her stomach,
       eyes fixed on a spot of nothing on the far wall of the dorm room she shared with Buffy.

       A knock at the door disturbed her brooding. **How does Angel do it so well?** and she called –
       unthinkingly – "Come in."

       Tilting her head to see who was standing in the doorway, she felt a jolt of fear shoot down her spine,
       scrambling to her feet hastily. "Spike!" Fumbling for a weapon, she looked around. "Wh-what do you
       want? Uh, a spell? I can do that..."

       He grinned as she tried to make a break passed him, grabbing her and throwing her back against the
       desk. Ever since the previous year, he’d thought on and off about this girl and how she fitted into his
       memories, but had never found the explanation.

       "I’ll give you a choice." Stalking towards her, he could smell the fear emanating from her. "Now I'm gonna
       kill you. No choice in that." He bit his lip slightly, his eyes on the floor, as if shy. "But... I can let you stay
       dead...or... Bring you back, to be like me." On his final words, his face shifted to the demon visage.

       "I--I'll scream." She threatened futiley.

       Spike chuckled. "Bonus."

       And yet, when his inability to...perform erupted and she had a chance to attack him or grab the cross he
       could see on the floor, she stayed there, letting him have yet another breakdown in front of her.

       Sitting up a little, she tilted her head. "You’re being too hard on yourself." She soothed, his head buried in
       his hands pathetically. "Why don't we wait a half an hour and try again? Or..."

       Then something made him plummet into a blackness that had been all to familiar in the last few weeks.

       Present Day

Soft fingers brushed his temples soothingly, one arm draped behind his head, a warm body half-sitting alongside his prone form from what he could tell.

Explosions of pain erupted in his head as he tried open his eyes, his mind screaming in protest at the simple effort of functioning, but he wanted to get out of the stifling darkness again.

Blinking painfully, it took the vampire a moment to realise his demon features were still showing, but he couldn’t find the energy to slide his human appearance back into place. Everything was such an effort.

"Red?" Wincing as his swollen tongue was sliced by his fangs, he looked up at the face above him, her familiar silky hair that was her name-sake falling across her tear-stained cheeks.

"Hey." She smiled, but that did nothing to hide the tears. Bending her head, she kissed his lips gently, stroking his ridges with her fingertips. "I’m sorry." She whispered, her eyes brimming with tears again.

"I...know..." Wincing as another pain lanced through his body, the vampire’s hands balled into white fists, his muscles in his jaw twitching.

Looking over at the far side of the room, Willow nodded at someone in the shadows, then turned back to Spike. "Listen, Spike." Her lips close to his ear, she spoke softly and urgently. "You need to drink some of your Sire’s blood and a potion...we need to strengthen you...will you do it? For me?"

Staring at her, he wondered why the hell she would care. After all, she had had William, the nicer, sweeter, gentler, better him. Like Dru had over Angel, she was taking second best. Still, he nodded, pressing his eyes shut.

"I love you, Spike." She murmured softly, pulling away, leaving Angel to feed his weakened childe.

"Love you too." The vampire breathed weakly.

Neither of them had ever seen her acting so nervously for a long time, her shaking hands twisting together as she glanced through to the spare room, where Angel and Spike were.

 "Willow?"

Turning to face the door, she saw Angel standing there, his expression as grave as ever, sending a shiver of trepidation through her. "Angel?" She asked shakily, her hands falling to her sides.

Stepping aside the dark-haired vampire gave her a smile, as his childe swaggered out of the door, his usual cocky attitude well and truly intact as he made his way across the room, towards her.

 "Spike!" Throwing herself at him, she hugged him tightly, her arms tightly around his neck, as she burst into tears of relief and happiness. Pulling back, she planted a firm kiss on his lips, only to have him respond lustily, literally taking her breath away as her knees turned to water.

"Miss me, pet?"

Nodding against his chest, she tilted her head up and enquired. "So, what did William remember?"

Spike grinned sheepishly at her. "I remembered a red-head being wonderfully nice to me. Nicer than anyone else." Rubbing small circles on her back, he continued, his voice soft as he nuzzled her ear.

 "When I kidnapped you and the twit, I remembered you being unbelievably perfectly sweet...and you were again."

"You remembered then?" She squealed as his teeth nibbled her earlobe, his arms tight around her.

The vampire purred softly against her neck. "Then and when we were in your room after I escaped the soldier boys...you were so bloody tasty, pet, I wanted you to be mine forever..."

 "And now?"

Swinging her easily up into his arms, he smothered her soft lips in a heart-melting kiss. "Now," He replied, with a seductive purr. "Now, I remember everything. Every bloody little thing...and I still want you to be mine forever."

 "Deal." Pulling his mouth onto hers, none of Giles’ very vocal objections penetrating their consciouness, as Spike swiftly carried her back through to the guestroom, the door slamming firmly behind them.

Huffing in disgust, the ex-Watcher grabbed his bottle of whiskey and headed out to the table in the courtyard outside the apartment, leaving the souled vampire and the Slayer in awkward silence.

"Thank you." Buffy finally said, raising her hazel eyes to his nervously. "I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t been here."

Angel gave a non-commital shrug. "He’s my childe. I couldn’t just leave him here to die for no reason..." He paused, taking a hesitant step closer to her, one hand reaching up and running her hair through his fingers. "And I missed you."

"I missed you too." She whispered softly, lowering her head as he drew her into his arms. "Why does everything have to be so difficult, Angel?"

 "I vampire, you Slayer." Pressing his cheek against the top of her head, he glanced towards the door where his favourite childe and friend had vanished through moments earlier. "Maybe they’ll have the chance we never did."

Nodding, she pulled away, taking his hand in hers with a sad smile. "Maybe." She agreed softly.

Exchanging understanding smiles, they went out to join Giles at the table in the courtyard, talking of old times and of the future.