He paused for a moment, then went on. "Not that you need a soul, mind you. Probably better off without it, really. But for Miguel?"

As the show went to commercial, Spike picked up the remote. "Sorry, mate," he told the man who was enthusiastically endorsing some detergent or other. "You don't smoke the same cigarettes as me, so I don't care how white your goop'll make my shirt." He hit the fast forward button. "I love modern technology," he said to no one in particular.

Just as he got to the end of the commercial break, someone knocked on the door to his crypt.

"Sod off!" he called as he hit play.

The lock came again, louder.

"Right," Spike announced, hitting pause. "Someone dies."

He stalked over to the door and flung it open, all set to tell off whoever had disturbed him. His words died in his throat as he saw who it was.

"Cor," he said in wonder, "you're Juliet Mills!"

The woman smiled faintly. "I'm afraid not," she said.

"Yes, you are," Spike insisted. "I was just watching you on the telly. I taped today's episode."

"You're speaking of that dreadful 'Passions,' I presume?" she asked with a grimace.

"Yeah," Spike agreed. "But it's not dreadful. Quite good, actually. And much more true to life than your average tear- jerker."

"It's rubbish is what it is," the woman informed him. "And I am not Juliet Mills."

"Fine," Spike said with a shrug. "Then who the hell are you, and why should I care?"

"I," she announced haughtily, "am Tabitha Lenox."

Spike just looked at her for a long moment.

"The witch," he ventured.

"Yes."

"From Harmony."

"Yes."

"Just like on the dreadful rubbish I was just watching?"

"Well, yes," she allowed.

Spike nodded, then craned his neck to see past her. He examined the area around the crypt entrance.

"What are you looking for?" Tabitha asked, after a minute.

"The bleedin' film crew," Spike answered. "I just know Allen Funt is going to jump out of the bushes any second."

"What are you talking about?" she asked. "Allen Funt is dead."

"Yeah," Spike agreed with a nod, "but hell, so am I. Hasn't slowed me down any, has it?"

Tabitha started to answer, then stopped herself. "Never mind that. Never mind any of this nonsense. I came here because I need your help."

Spike snorted. "You need my help? What happened, Timmy fall down a bloody well?"

Tabitha drew back in shock. "How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That Timmy is trapped within the Well of Eternity!"

Spike considered this. "The Well of Eternity, eh?"

"Yes," Tabitha answered, "and there isn't much time! Come quickly, we need your help!"

She reached out to clutch his arm, but Spike flung up his hand to stop her.

"All right, hold on," he began. "Do you honestly expect me to believe that you're Tabitha Lenox, the television character, and that Timmy, the doll you brought to life to help you with your nefarious schemes, is in danger and needs my help?"

"Yes," was the only reply Tabitha could muster.

"Right," Spike agreed with a nod. "Just let me grab my coat, then."