LOVE REMEMBERED



AUTHOR’S NOTES: This story takes place after “Wrecked.” This is my first attempt at fan fiction so constructive criticism would be appreciated. Also, I know that some of my story line may be highly implausible but please remember this is purely for entertainment purposes. Hope you enjoy it.



DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters and institutions depicted in this story are property of Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon. No infringement of rights is intended.



Part 1

Dawn stared blankly at the history textbook lying on the desk in front of her. With all of the terrible things happening to the people she cared about, reading up on 19th- century England just seemed impossible. She kept thinking about Willow’s addiction to magic and couldn’t help but wonder if things might’ve ended up differently if Tara hadn’t left when she did. Perhaps Tara’s influence would have prevented Willow’s dependency on magic from getting out of control. She shivered at the thought of seeing Willow’s glassy, black eyes and the demon the Wiccan had conjured while under the warlock Rack’s influence. Dawn rubbed the cast on her left arm, a painful reminder of that awful night.

She also thought about her sister Buffy, who was now so distant and unemotional. Buffy didn’t seem to care about much these days, even her duties as the Slayer. She also seemed evasive at times when ever Dawn asked about her doings and whereabouts, like she was hiding something. Dawn had no idea what her sister’s secret could be.

Sighing, Dawn buried her nose in her textbook once again. She was beginning to feel a nagging sense of urgency about the quiz she was destined to fail, unless she could get some of this stuff to sink in soon. She turned to the chapter the class was currently covering and began scanning through the pages, stopping when she came to an illustration of a man wearing a black top hat and cape. He reminded her of the kind of vampires she had seen in old black and white films. The caption under the picture read “Jack the Ripper.”

‘Hmmmm. I didn’t realize he was a real person. Thought he was just in the movie,’ she pondered. Dawn began reading the section about Jack the Ripper but soon found herself obsessing about her personal problems. Sighing again, she pushed the open textbook to the side and pulled out another book from her backpack. This book was very old and worn. It was a spell book she had “borrowed” from the Magic Box. She began looking through its pages.

“Now I know I saw something earlier,” she murmured. She was looking for a specific spell - one that could reverse time and make it possible for her to prevent some of the awful things that had happened in her recent past. Maybe if she had convinced Tara to not move out several weeks ago, Willow would never have gotten in as deep into black magic as she had. Dawn kept flipping. She knew that Buffy would totally kill her if she ever found out what she was doing -- but Buffy wouldn’t have to know.

Finally, she found what she was looking for. “Here it is. Creating a time passage….” Dawn scanned the text and then read aloud the part she thought would serve her needs by taking her back to the day Tara moved out, but nothing seemed to happen. Discouraged she pushed the book away from- it ended up resting on top of her history textbook still open to the section on “Jack the Ripper.”

Dawn sighed. “I guess I am not magically inclined… For now…anyway.” She decided that a tasty snack might get her brain functioning again. Maybe something with peanut butter. She headed downstairs to the kitchen.

* * *

Meanwhile, in a dark alley across town, a strange, ghost-like mist appeared. After a few seconds, a dark, shadowy figure emerged from the haze. He paused for a second, assessing his surroundings. Then he walked steadily out of the dark alley in search of a victim. Behind him, the strange mist glimmered faintly in the darkness.

* * *

A few blocks east of the alley, Buffy Summers was on her nightly patrol. The only problem was, she had just run into the person she had been successfully avoiding for over a week. Upon seeing him, her chest seemed to constrict and she got an awful, almost painful feeling in her gut. She attributed these symptoms to the loathing and disgust that particular person had evoked in her in the past. Spike smiled at her in his confidant, knowing way. “Hello Slayer,” he said. His words were like a caress as his eyes roved suggestively up and down her body.

Buffy quickly looked away. “Spike.” She acknowledged him quietly, simultaneously fighting both the urge to run away from him and to kiss him. Uncertainly, she looked up and met his eyes. Gone was the smug, overconfident smile he had worn just seconds before. His eyes had softened and his voice was almost a whisper.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, and she knew he meant it. He stepped toward her, reached out his hand and caressed her cheek. Instinctively, Buffy found herself leaning toward his touch. His hand felt cool, but his touch seemed to burn into her heart -- branding it. She felt herself losing control. A sense of panic came over her and she pulled away.

“I’m sorry…I can’t…” She searched for something cruel to say, something to make him leave, but she was drawing a blank.

“Buffy….” Spike reached for her hand but she withdrew it as if his touch had burned her. “I know you’ve been avoiding me… trying to shut me out. But you can’t keep this up forever. There’s something between us. We both know it.”

Buffy’s expression betrayed the turmoil she felt inside. She glared at him, but was forced to look away as his eyes met hers yet again.

“I’m in love with you…you know that.” This was the side of Spike that Buffy found most dangerous. She could handle his normal sarcastic, overconfident act, but at other times he could seem almost…human. This side of him touched her more than she wanted to admit.

The cruel words she was looking for finally came to Buffy. “Spike, you’ve got to get over this…this…sick, twisted, obsession of yours,” she said caustically. “When are you going to get it? You're a vampire, a monster…and monsters can’t love.”

Spike took a step back. Buffy looked up at him and saw that her words had affected him as she had intended. His expression was now closed. “I may be a monster…” he said softly, “but you’re a bloody disease, Slayer. You’ve infected me here.” He pointed to his chest. “You think I wanted to love you? I had no choice…but at least I admit how I feel. You on the other hand--”

“There’s nothing to admit,” Buffy replied as she abruptly turned and began walking away from him.

“Oh, bloody hell--” Spike began to walk after her. “Buffy--.” But his words were interrupted by a woman’s scream. It sounded close. Without pausing, the two ran toward the sound and came upon a man in a black cloak and top hat attempting to strangle a young woman. Spike reached the man first and grabbed him, ripping him away from his victim. Immediately, Spike was overcome by a surge of unbearable pain. His chip had been activated. The mysterious assailant was human.

Buffy took over quickly and hit the cloaked figure with a series of punches and kicks, forcing him back. Surprised by her strength, the man took off. Buffy followed him to a dark alley, which was closed off by a brick wall - a dead end. She proceeded to attack him with more blows until he grabbed her arms, trying to stop her from punching him. She wrestled him to the ground and they rolled toward the cloud-like doorway. The mysterious portal swallowed the two combatants and then disappeared completely.

Seconds later, Spike reached the spot where the mist had been. He had seen Buffy and the shadowy figure fighting, seen them go into the strange fog. He had stared in disbelief when they had disappeared. Now, the alley was empty. He carefully searched the area, looking for a hidden trapdoor or a secret passage, but found nothing. They had vanished along with the strange mist as if they’d never been there.

* * *

Buffy was disoriented. She had been fighting the strange man in the alley and the next thing she knew, she was surrounded by flashes of light accompanied by a loud humming sound that seemed to come from everywhere. After what had seemed like only a few seconds, she landed with a crash and felt her head come into contact with something hard like concrete. It was a brick wall. She was in an alley, but it was different from the alley she had just come from. Although it was dark and it was hard to see, she sensed she was in an entirely different place. Suddenly, she saw movement. It was the stranger she had been fighting with. Apparently, he had also made the journey with her. Buffy was still too groggy to move. Helpless, she saw the man approach her. Something flashed in the darkness -- a knife. She started to inch away, but he advanced with purpose. He lifted the knife to strike. Buffy raised her hands instinctively to block the stranger’s attack.

Suddenly, she heard a man yelling. The voice seemed to be coming from a distance but was getting louder as the man approached. Her attacker looked up, quickly put his knife away and fled. Buffy heard the sound of approaching footsteps. A man knelt down beside her. “Are you okay Miss?” he asked.

Buffy looked up at the man, meeting his gaze. He wore wire-framed glasses and his tousled brown hair fell into his eyes as he looked down at her. Something about him seemed so familiar. “Spike?” she said uncertainly.

“No,” said the stranger. He took off his cloak and covered the shivering girl with it. “My name’s William.”

“William.” Buffy murmured softly just before losing consciousness.

Part 2

Spike was in a panic. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing Buffy yet again. Knowing there would be some mojo-related explanation for what had happened, his first thought was to find Willow. He took off running toward Buffy’s house. He had seen Buffy and the man she was fighting go into the strange mist and then they had just disappeared. Spike had no idea of where they could’ve gone.

Spike reached Buffy’s house just minutes later. He started banging on the door, making it rattle. “Willow!…Willow!” He continued banging on the door even harder, nearly causing the wood to crack.

Within seconds,Willow opened the door. Her brow furrowed as she stared at the clearly upset vampire. “Spike….what’s going on?” she asked.

Spike pushed his way into the house. “It’s Buffy - she’s gone. She was in an alley fighting this guy. There was this mist. I don’t know. She disappeared….” He explained to Willow what had happened and her eyes widened as she realized that Buffy was in trouble.

“So what did the guy Buffy was fighting look like?” Willow asked, trying to remain calm.

“Uh, I don’t know.” Spike said, pausing as he visualized the stranger in the alley. “He was dressed kind of funny, sort of like a magician - except evil. You know…black top hat…cape.”

“Sounds kind of like Jack the Ripper - “ Spike and Willow looked up in unison as Dawn descended the stairs. “We’re studying about him in school. There’s a picture of him in my textbook upstairs in my room.” Dawn gestured for them to follow her and they headed up to her room.

They entered Dawn’s room and followed her to the desk by the window. Dawn picked up her textbook and showed Spike and Willow the picture of Jack the Ripper. Spike grabbed the book and took a closer look - squinting as he examined the picture. “Yeah,” he muttered, practically spearing the picture with his index finger, “that looks like the bloke from the alley!”

“Oh my God!” Willow said, sounding concerned. She took a closer look at the textbook. “Jack the Ripper! He like murdered tons of people!”

“More like seven, actually,” Spike corrected her, “That’s not so much, you know. I mean, I’ve ki-“ Spike stopped himself as he remembered that killing innocent people was no longer considered to be a good thing. “Yeah…well… he was never caught. The police weren’t particularly on the ball in those days-so much for Sherlock Holmes. But how… ” As he spoke, Spike’s eyes wandered to Dawn’s desk and a worn-looking book that seemed out of place. Willow’s eyes followed Spike’s gaze and she spotted the book. She recognized it immediately.

Willow picked up the book. “This is a spell book from the Magic Box,” she said, looking over at Dawn, “How’d this…“

Dawn quickly glanced at Willow, then at Spike and attempted a smile. “I, uh…kind of borrowed it.” She said, looking very guilty “I was trying to do a spell…create a time passage…but it didn’t work.” She looked down at her sneakers and her shoulders hunched over.

“I’ll say it didn’t work!” Spike muttered, shaking his head. “You just brought a crazed killer to Sunnydale and now he’s taken Buffy back to the past!”

Dawn looked up at Spike then quickly looked away. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…” Her eyes started to fill with tears.

Spike clenched his jaw and tried to calm down. A muscle in his left cheek twitched, betraying the anger he felt. He took a deep breath. “Okay then…so what are we gonna do…to get Buffy back?”

Willow studied Dawn’s “borrowed” spell book for a few minutes before looking up. “It looks like one of us has to go back in time to get Buffy,” she said, glancing at Spike. “I can open a portal that will take you to the time and place Buffy is at, which appears to be where Jack the Ripper is from. The portal will remain open until whoever goes returns…with Buffy that is.”

“I’ll go,” Dawn volunteered. “I mean this whole thing’s my fault and all.”

“No - you’ve caused enough trouble for one night,” Spike said harshly. He then softened his voice. “I’ll go. I know the time period: London….late nineteenth century. I lived there, even though it was a long time ago. I’ve got the best chance of finding her.”

Willow agreed with Spike but looked uncertain. She put the book down. Her hands were shaking. “I don’t think I can do this. The spell, I mean. It’s too soon for me.”

“Don’t be an idiot!” Spike snapped at her. “Buffy is out there alone, lost--”

“We’ll call Tara.” Dawn interrupted, “She’ll be here in no time. Spike, maybe you should change clothes or something. That way, you’ll blend in more.” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Oh my god! Do you remember what Buffy was wearing today?”

“Yeah.” Spike smiled as he pictured how Buffy had looked that evening. “Tight leather skirt…skimpy lingerie-like top…pretty hot, I’d say.” Suddenly, the smile fell from his face. “Bloody hell! We’d better get moving….pronto!” He was out the door before anyone could say another word.

Part 3

Buffy awoke with a splitting headache. In a daze, she looked around. She was lying in a bed that seemed to be unusually high off the floor and had a nubby, cream colored coverlet. The room had pale yellow wallpaper with a delicate pink floral pattern. Ivory lace curtains adorned the windows. The furniture all appeared to be antique, carved from dark wood. Her first thought was that she was dreaming. She got out of bed slowly and went to the window. It was morning. She looked down on cobblestone streets. A horse-drawn cart passed below her window. She was definitely not in Sunnydale anymore!

Buffy stepped away from the window and turned around. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. She was now wearing an old- fashioned white flannel nightgown. There was also a bandage on her forehead where she must have bumped it the night before. A soft knock at the door startled her. A young woman peeked into the room. She was wearing a white apron over a black, full-length dress and her hair was tucked neatly under a white cotton cap that reminded Buffy of the one her Grandmother sometimes used to wear when she showered.

“Oh, you’re awake miss,” said the young woman. “My name’s Cathy. I’ve come to see how you’re doing and if you’ll be needing any help getting dressed.”

Buffy frowned as she looked at Cathy. “I’m fine,” she said finally. “But, where are my clothes?”

Looking uncomfortable, Cathy entered the room and walked to the closet. She pulled out a pretty blue dress with a full-length skirt. “This is one of Miss Emily’s but young Master William thought it might suit you.”

“William?” Buffy sat on the bed. It was all coming back to her now. The shadowy figure in the alley, the mysterious mist, the flashing lights….and Spike….William. Slowly, she began to comprehend where she was. William must have saved her last night and brought her here, presumably to his home. She was in London - sometime before 1880 - before Spike had turned into a vampire. She must have gone through some sort of time passage. She realized that she was a long way from home and in disbelief wondered if she would ever find a way back to Sunnydale.

Cathy helped Buffy dress and put her hair up. Buffy looked in the mirror and smiled.

“It suits you miss,” Cathy said.

“I hope it’s…okay that I borrow this,” Buffy said uncertainly, touching the dress’ lace bodice.

“Okay? Oh yes, of course Miss.” Cathy gave Buffy a reassuring smile. “Master William picked out this dress from Miss Emily’s wardrobe. She’s William’s younger sister. I assure you, she has more dresses than she could possibly wear. I believe this dress was only worn once. I dare say she won’t miss it. And besides, the entire family except for William is currently away - vacationing.”

Buffy still looked uncertain.

“Come now Miss,” Cathy ushered Buffy to the door. “Young master William is downstairs in the dining room.”

Buffy felt awkward in the strange clothes. She made her way down the stairs and into a rather large dining room dominated by a rectangular wooden table covered with a white lace tablecloth and surrounded by matching chairs with ornately carved backs. She noticed that there were two place settings of delicate-looking china and silverware arranged opposite each other on the table. An anxious-looking William stood up immediately, hurried over to the other side of the table and pulled out a chair. He politely gestured for her to sit down.

“Are you well?” he asked, a look of genuine concern in his eyes.

“I am. Thank you,” Buffy replied as she took her seat.

“You’re American,” William said with understanding. “I suspected as much based on your…ah, rather unique attire worn last evening. Might you be in the theatre, perhaps?”

“Yes, I’m American.” Buffy replied, feeling embarrassed about how her modern clothes must have looked to someone from this era. She opened her mouth to say something to explain her modern attire, but found herself at a loss of words. She smiled at him weakly and shrugged.

“I see.” William cleared his throat. “And now allow me to introduce myself, I’m--”

“William.” Buffy finished for him. “Yes, I know.”

He looked at her and frowned. “Last night,” she went on. “You told me in the alley.”

“That I did.” William’s frown turned into a smile. “Now….Miss er….”

“Summers. Buffy Summers.” She smiled at him. “But you can call me Buffy.”

“Yes, Miss er Buffy…“ William paused. “You must have some loved ones very worried about you. A husband perhaps? Maybe this, ah, ‘Spike’ fellow?”

“Oh no, I’m not married. Especially not to Spike!” Buffy quickly thought of a way to prevent William from asking any additional questions which she might not be able to answer. “Actually, I can’t remember anything….at all….except, of course…that my name is Buffy and I’m…not…married.” She forced another smile and shrugged.

William’s eyes widened and he glanced at the bandage on Buffy’s forehead. “I’ve heard of this happening to people before - especially when it involves a head injury. I believe you may have amnesia , or at least partial amnesia as you seem to recall a few things about yourself.”

Buffy nodded her head in agreement. “I believe you’re right,” she said.

“Should we contact the authorities?” William offered. “Perhaps someone has been looking for you.”

“No! Not yet, I mean…I think it’s actually kind of silly - me not being able to remember anything. I have this feeling that my memories will just come flooding back at any moment.”

William was insistent. “Well, I do think we should talk to the authorities sometime soon to report the scoundrel that tried to do harm to you.”

“I’d actually rather not do that yet either. I…I just don’t feel up to it. Not just yet. I hope you understand.”

“Yes, of course,” William said kindly. “How insensitive of me. You’ve just been through a horrible ordeal. Of course I understand. And I want you to know that you’re welcome in my family’s home for as long as you need to stay here.”

“I appreciate…everything you’ve done for me.” Buffy felt touched by William’s generosity and kindness. She thought of Spike and compared the two. On the surface they seemed so different. It was almost inconceivable that they could be the same person. She had never considered Spike to be at all generous or kind, but he had at times surprised her. And even then she had always dismissed him as an evil monster.

Part 4

Spike arrived back at the Summer’s house and let himself in. He found Dawn sitting at the foot of the stairs. She looked up as he entered the house and wiped the tears from her eyes. He knelt down next to her, paused for a second and then awkwardly patted her on the back.

“Hey - we’ll have none of that now,” Spike told her, trying to keep his tone light. “We’ll have Buffy back to the present in no time. Hell - she may even be enjoying herself right now. Bit of a vacation eh, from saving the world and such.”

Dawn looked up at Spike and gave him a big hug. Spike tentatively hugged her back. She started to cry harder. “It’s just that things keep happening - horrible things,” she sobbed. “Like with Willow and--”

“Now you had nothing to do with Willow’s problems. You can’t be kicking yourself for her mistakes.”

“No, I know that. It’s just things have been just awful ever since…” She paused, not wanting to complete her sentence. “Things just aren’t the same. Even Buffy…especially Buffy. She’s changed. Sometimes I feel like I’m talking to a stone wall. “

Spike chose his words carefully. “Buffy’s been through a lot. None of us can pretend to understand what it’s like to die, then be ripped from wherever it was she was. Maybe it was heaven. I for one will never know what that’s like.” He smiled sadly. “She just needs time. We need to be patient with her - all of us.”

“I just feel that there’s something else she’s not telling us,” Dawn continued. “Something’s bothering Buffy big time. I can feel it.”

Spike paused before speaking, a strained expression on his face. “Assuming you’re right, and there is something that Buffy’s keeping to herself, I’m sure the slayer will tell you eventually…when the time is right.”

“Do you know…maybe…have any idea…” Dawn looked at Spike hopefully.

“Er, no of course not.” Spike looked away quickly. “Now where’s that witch Tara?” he said, changing the subject.

As if on cue, Tara walked through the door. Spike and Dawn stood up to greet her. “Where’s Willow?” Tara asked.

“I’m here,” Willow replied as she came down the flight of stairs. She looked very tired which did not go unnoticed by Tara.

Willow attempted a smile. “Oh, look at Spike….” She said halfheartedly gesturing to Spike’s suit.

Both Tara and Dawn turned to look at Spike’s old-fashioned clothes. “Yes, very dapper!” Dawn said in an attempt to be cheerful.

Spike felt uncomfortable as all three women stared him. “Yeah, right. Well enough of the ogling bit. Let’s get on with this.”

Before Tara and Willow went upstairs to perform the spell, Willow gave Spike a small fabric pouch. She explained to him that it contained a memory spell that would make anyone forget about his or Buffy’s presence in the past. She quickly instructed him how to use the spell, which could be cast by simply spreading a small amount of the enclosed herbs on an individual and then telling them to forget. She reminded him that he must not alter history as it could have horrible repercussions on the present. Willow then told Spike to go back to the alley where Buffy had disappeared and to wait there until the time passage appeared. Before he left, Spike looked at Dawn who still seemed to be quite forlorn.

“Aw, cheer up Lil’ Bit,” he told her. “I’ll have your big sis back before you know it. Everything will be all right again - you’ll see.” He gave her a wink and was out the door.

* * *

Minutes later, Spike reached the alley. When he saw the strange fog appear, he got a horrible knot in his stomach. For a second he wished he could just walk away…he’d be free of Buffy and all the pain she caused him. “Oh to hell with it,” he muttered and stepped into the hazy portal. The mist enveloped him and Spike was gone.

Part 5

Buffy was thoroughly enjoying herself. William had taken her for a drive around London, hoping to jog her memory. He had pointed out all of the famous landmarks that she had only read about in books. She made a mental note to visit Giles in London if and when she ever got back to her real time. She felt in no rush though, as William was undeniably sweet and she liked his company. There was nothing remotely evil about him. She felt a comfortable, safe, “warm and fuzzy” feeling with him. Quite the opposite of how she felt when she was with Spike.

William spoke often of his little sister, Emily, whom he obviously adored. She was 15 - the same age as Dawn. He spoke warmly of her accomplishments: playing the piano, speaking several foreign languages, and painting. But he seemed most proud of her intelligence and wit. How she could hold her own in any conversation, even with their father. William’s father, Buffy found out, owned a bookstore of some sort. Apparently, he was very studious and spent much of his time locked up in his shop-- presumably reading--even after the store had closed for the day. Buffy found this to be odd and William agreed with her. He was appalled at the thought of having to follow in his father’s footsteps as a bookshop owner. Although it was a very large, respected establishment, he had no interest in any type of commercial enterprise.

“And what are you interested in, William?” Buffy asked.

William became very uncomfortable. “I, uh…” He stammered a bit. “I, uh, enjoy more creative endeavors.” He smiled weakly.

“I never would have guessed that you were the creative type,” Buffy said, thinking of Spike. “What do you create exactly?”

“Well, I paint tolerably well, but my real passion is….” William smiled with embarrassment, “Poetry.”

“Oh, like ‘Roses are red. Violets are blue….”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Never mind.” Buffy smiled. “I think poetry’s a pretty cool hobby. I’d love to hear some of your stuff.”

William turned bright red. “Oh no! I’m afraid that my poetry’s not very good. It’s quite detestable, actually. I’ve heard that some people even refer to me as ‘William the Bloody’ for my ‘bloody awful’ poetry.” He attempted a smile but could only manage a strained grimace.

Buffy’s left eyebrow shot up. “William the Bloody.” The Slayer struggled to suppress the urge to laugh. “That’s terrible.” Knowing that a vampire retained the basic personality characteristics of the person they had once been, she found her time with William to be quite enlightening. She thought of Spike and wondered if he had written any poetry about her.

Part 6

Spike found his senses overcome by the sights and smells of a city and time so familiar to him. He was home. Walking the streets of London brought back many memories. He thought fleetingly of Drusilla and his early nights as a vampire. The experience of becoming a creature of darkness had been entirely liberating. The demon power had taken over his body and erased the wretched nothing of a man he had once been. His initial bloodlust had been insatiable, uncontrollable and intoxicating. Experience had taught him to control his primal urges and to be a smarter vampire but he had never lost the love of a good kill.

Spike began his search by questioning everyone he came across. He started to get discouraged, as no one recalled seeing a young woman fitting Buffy’s description. After hours of wandering the streets and asking countless people, Spike found shelter in an old crypt just before sunrise.

On the second night of his quest, Spike was in deserted section of the city when a cloaked figure walking stealthily in the shadows caught his eye. Spike followed the familiar-looking stranger to a dark alley and grabbed him by the neck. Surprisingly, Spike felt no pain even as he threw the man against a brick wall. The chip did not activate and the possibility that it was dependent on a power source back in his own time crossed his mind.

Spike held the man up and looked at him carefully. He certainly looked like the man he and Buffy had come across earlier, but it had been dark. He wasn’t positive.

“Where is she?” Spike asked the man through gritted teeth. He slammed the stranger’s head against the wall violently. “Tell me!”

The man looked at Spike and showed no sign of fear. There was an unsettling emptiness in his eyes - the look of a man who had no regard for human life, possibly even his own. “She’s gone,” he said finally and smiled. “I had her in my grasp but, she was saved.”

“Where is she?” Spike tightened his grip on the man’s throat. He felt the man’s pulse pounding beneath his fingers.

“A man took her away,” the stranger replied. “I didn’t see where…but, I did notice that….”

“C’mon.” Spike said, clenching his teeth.

“He could have been your brother,” the man finished. “Only you’re not human are you?”

Spike put on his game face and smiled. The man’s eyes widened slightly as he stared at the demon before him. “You got that right,” Spike said, before sinking his teeth deep into the man’s jugular. He drank long and hard, draining the evil stranger before discarding the body in a dark corner of the alley. “So much for not changing the past,” he muttered as he took off for his family home. The dead man’s blood was now coursing through his body. Warming him. Making him feel alive and empowered as only a good kill could. It was good to be back.

 

 

Part 7

Spike’s mind reeled as he walked the familiar streets. He could feed! In this place and time he was no longer the pathetic, neutered creature he had been in Sunnydale. The possibility of returning to his old ways was enticing. He still felt intoxicated by the blood of his first victim in over two years. If he stayed here, he could be whole again. Of course there was just one problem…Buffy. He knew he could not have Buffy if he gave in to his demon side. If he thought there was no hope of her ever loving him, he knew he would have slipped away into the shadows of London…a creature of darkness once more. But everything had changed the night that she’d finally admitted, though not with words, that she felt something for him. Her passion and desire for him had matched his own feelings for her. He had told her that their night together had been a ‘revelation’ and it truly had been. It had given him insight into her true feelings and desires. All that she had kept inside of her for so long had been unleashed. Her emotions had been raw and untamed and had more than likely frightened her. It had been a terrified Buffy who had run off so quickly the next morning covering her fear with anger and denial.

Spike shook his head. He knew that the feelings he had for Buffy far outweighed the temptation of reverting to his dark side. For him there was no turning back. He had come so far…risen to a level he had never considered possible. The goal was now in sight and getting nearer.

Upon reaching his family home, Spike stood in the walkway leading to the front entry. He wistfully recalled memories of his childhood and glanced up at the second-story corner room that used to be his. As he reflected on life experiences almost forgotten, movement in a window from an another room upstairs got his attention. He caught his breath as he saw a woman’s silhouette. He had found Buffy. He stared, mesmerized by the image of Buffy looking out the window combing her long blond hair. She looked strangely serene and worry-free - a way she seldom looked back in the present. He had known for a long time that Buffy was now living with a death wish. He had sensed that she, like all of the slayers before her, had come to unconsciously crave death. She was tired of carrying the burden of the world. She wanted to be finished, and she had been -- temporarily. Spike found it ironic that the woman he had once wished to kill with such a passion was the same woman he could now not bear to lose. He would protect her, help her - even it led to his own demise. He knew his motives for helping her and her friends were entirely selfish. He was serving his own cause by protecting her - making his existence somewhat more bearable and the world somewhat more livable because she was in it.

After Buffy moved away from the window and out of sight, Spike climbed up a trellis to the second story to get her attention. To his surprise he saw William enter Buffy’s bedroom. “Now that’s highly inappropriate!” he muttered to himself.

Buffy gestured for William to sit on the small settee in the corner of her room. She seated herself in the chair opposite his. Outside on the trellis, Spike was curious to hear what they were talking about and leaned in closer to the glass pane.

“So tell me about the girl who inspires your poetry,” Buffy said, smiling warmly at William.

William blushed. “Her name is Cecily,” he replied nervously. He took off his glasses and began cleaning them. Buffy was reminded of Giles. “She’s an absolute vision…an angel. The only problem is…I don’t think she knows I exist.”

“That could be a problem,” Buffy agreed.

“We do run in the same circles and our paths cross quite frequently,” William continued. “But she never looks at me. She never once has acknowledged me. I don’t think she sees me.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure how to make her see me.”

“Actually, I am SO not qualified to be giving advice on anything remotely ‘relationshippy’--” Buffy began. “But maybe you should just tell her how you feel.”

Listening in, Spike shook his head. He was amazed at how Buffy was always so wrong when it came to affairs of the heart. He recalled Cecily’s callous and utterly humiliating response to his declaration of affection. He leaned in as close to the window as he could without being seen, not wanting to miss any part of the conversation.

“I don’t know,” William responded uncertainly. “Maybe I’m just in love with the dream…the idea that is Cecily. If I were to actually tell her…if she were to reject me…I don’t know if I could bear the thought of losing the dream. I know this must sound foolish but isn’t a dream better than nothing?”

Buffy sat next to William and held his hand. “I think that Cecily’s a very lucky girl,” she said smiling. “You’re a good man.” As she looked at William, Buffy could not help but think of Spike. She realized that he was the first man who had actually changed for the better because of loving her. Two men before Spike had cared for her and both had suffered for it. Her affections had unintentionally turned them toward darkness. Only Spike…Evil Spike, had benefited because of his regard for her. He was genuinely trying to change his ways and she had seen glimpses of the man he had once been inside the dead shell that remained. Acting on instinct, she leaned over and kissed William gently on the mouth.

Spike’s eyes widened in disbelief as he watched Buffy kiss William. He lost his grip on the trellis and fell to the ground. He landed in a bush with a crash. “Bloody hell!’ he cursed under his breath.

William was also shocked by Buffy’s kiss. He pulled away quickly with eyes as wide as Spike’s had been. Buffy drew herself away and apologized. “I am sooo sorry. I don’t believe I did that,” she said, utterly mortified. “I guess…I don’t know. I was thinking about someone else.”

After he had regained his composure, William gave Buffy a strained smile. “I suppose you were probably thinking about er…Spike was it? Perhaps your memories are returning to you.”

Buffy’s first impulse was to lie and deny that she had been thinking of Spike. It had become almost automatic for her to reject any feelings she may have been developing for him. But, it had also been very difficult for her to keep all of her emotions to herself. She hadn’t been able to talk to anyone about it and it was eating her up inside. Strangely, she felt that she could confide in William. “I…yeah, I guess I was thinking about him.”

“You care about him,” William stated matter of factly.

“It’s not that simple,” Buffy replied, looking away. “I admit that I do feel something for him…but it’s not love. It can’t be love.”

“Why not?” William asked.

“Because I can’t love him.” Buffy replied adamantly.

“Again,” William inquired, looking her directly in the eyes. “Why not? Does he not love you?”

She sighed tiredly. “I think he does...love me…in his own way. But I know that it’s wrong. He’s done some really awful things in the past. We’re talking bad.” Buffy shuddered at the thought of some of the atrocities that Spike had committed. “I know that he has changed and continues to change for the better….It’s just that no matter how much he tries to, I know there’s just no way he can ever change who he really is. How could he?”

“I guess I may be a romantic, but I truly believe that love is a very powerful force,” William answered softly. He squeezed her hand. “Love is never easy is it?”

Buffy smiled weakly and shook her head. “Not in my experience, no,” she said as they both rose and walked to the door. William took his leave and Buffy shut the door behind him.

Part 8

Buffy paced back and forth, clearly agitated. She heard a soft tapping at the window and looked up to see the very source of her turmoil just outside the window.

“Spike!” Buffy said rushing over to the window to let him in. She was astonished to see him and wondered how he had found her. She opened the window but Spike hesitated before entering the house, not sure if he would be able to come in without an invitation. He proceeded uncertainly and found that he was able to enter with ease. Spike reasoned that a part of him was, and would always be William. As he climbed through the window, Buffy noticed that his suit looked dirty and there was a large cut near his right eye. “You’re hurt!” She gently touched his face but he pulled away and glared at her.

“I saw you kiss him!” he said as if accusing her.

Buffy was speechless for a second then rolled her eyes. “Oh my god - are you jealous?” she asked in disbelief.

Spike scowled and paced back and forth. “No!” he replied defensively. “It’s just that I’ve been searching this entire city for you…wondering if you’re dead or alive, and here you are...kissing…well-- bloody William!” He shook his head in frustration.

Buffy almost laughed. “Were you worried about me?” she asked, sounding amazed.

Spike looked indignant. “Well, yeah,” he replied as if stating the obvious. “I’ve been frantic ever since you disappeared. I got Willow and Tara to do some mojo to get me here so I could find you …rescue you. Problem is, you don’t look like you want to be rescued.”

Buffy looked thoughtful. “I do admit it’s been kind of nice here,” she said. “I mean William’s been really…well, nice, helpful, generous--”

“Okay, I get it.” Spike cut her off angrily. “He’s nice. But you seem to forget. I’m him. As in, he’s me.”

“Except, of course, that you’re not human. Monster, remember?”

“Just means that I’m not a total wimp,” Spike replied angrily.

“Don’t say that! William’s sensitive and caring. I wish I could fall in love with a guy like him.”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t.” Spike sneered knowingly. “You know you wouldn’t. Nice guys don’t interest you…never did.”

“You’re wrong!” Buffy hated the way he always seemed so sure of himself and it angered her even more that he was usually right. She lifted her hand instinctively to strike at him but held back, not wanting to start a fistfight. She knew from past experience that they could easily end up destroying the house.

“Am I, Slayer?” As if to prove his point Spike pulled her hard against his body and kissed her angrily. Instantly, she began kissing him back with equal fervor. Despite himself, Spike was surprised by the intensity of Buffy’s response to his advances. He kissed her hungrily, pushed her to the bed and began fumbling with the buttons at the back of her dress. “Bloody hell!” he muttered under his breath, as there seemed to be a hundred of them. Impatiently, he began to rip the dress. This made Buffy start to push him away, stopping him.

“Wait!” She said, breathing heavily. “This dress is borrowed.”

Spike shrugged. “If it’s Emily’s, she’s got a hundred dresses far prettier than this one. She won’t miss it.” He started picking off the buttons one by one as his lips grazed her throat.

Buffy felt intoxicated by the feelings Spike aroused in her. “Spike - we can’t,” she protested weakly. “Someone might hear us.”

Spike looked into her eyes and lightly stroked her cheek with his hand. He held a finger to her lips, indicating for her to be quiet. “Shhhhh.” He kissed her tenderly. “I can be gentle…if you let me.”

As Spike kissed her, Buffy felt her desire take control. Spike’s cool hands roved slowly down her body eliciting burning heat with each touch. She closed her eyes and imagined the fire he evoked in her. Her lips brushed against his cheek and grazed his ear as she whispered to him. “I’ll let you.” She then looked into his eyes and was sure she saw the flicker of a flame there too.

Spike then showed her just how gentle a ‘monster’ could be.

Part 9

Spike awoke feeling the warmth of Buffy’s body nestled snuggly against his own. His expression reflected the wonder and amazement that he felt as he watched her sleep peacefully in his arms. He savored the idea that she was his, if only for a moment. He knew from past experience that when she woke up she might not be as overjoyed with their lovemaking as he was. He recalled the last time they had given into their attraction for one another and her reaction to it. The next morning, she had referred to their lovemaking as a ‘freak show’ and claimed she had only slept with him out of convenience. Her words had driven a stake into his heart and he had responded defensively, slinging back some cruel remarks of his own.

He heard the grandfather clock in the downstairs sitting room strike five. They needed to get up fast as the sun would be coming up in less than an hour. Sighing with regret, Spike got up and put his clothes on. He picked up the dress that Buffy had borrowed from his sister and noted that most of the buttons were missing. Shrugging nonchalantly, he flung the dress onto the nearest chair and strode over to the wardrobe to find her something else to wear. He found Buffy’s leather skirt and white camisole top and put them carefully on the bed. He then found a black cloak for her to wear over her modern clothes and laid it down next to them. He glanced over at Buffy and to his surprise found that she was awake, quietly watching him. He braced himself in anticipation of a verbal onslaught but she remained silent.

“We need to get moving.” Spike said quietly. He gestured to the window. “The sun will be up soon.”

Still not speaking, Buffy rose from the bed without making any attempt at covering herself. To her surprise, Spike turned away quickly to let her get dressed. He looked unusually uncomfortable as he stood facing the door shifting his weight from one foot to the other and back again. Buffy glanced at the fidgeting vampire and found herself wanting to forget he was evil. She wanted to believe that he’d really changed because of his love for her. She thought about the way that he’d made love to her that night, the way his eyes had held hers as they connected both physically and emotionally. She wondered what would happen if she allowed herself to fall in love with him. She feared that loving Spike meant embracing the darkness that was a part of her and the source of her powers as the Slayer. She preferred not to think about that. Instead, she chose to reflect on how gentle and loving he had been that night, evoking in her such indescribable pleasure. It was getting more difficult for her to keep hating him. She wanted so much for him to be good. For now, she would allow herself the luxury of such a fantasy - but only for now.

As if to give his hands something to do, Spike reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the little cloth pouch Willow had given him. “Red says we’re not to change the past,” he said uncomfortably while Buffy dressed herself. “She gave me this memory spell to use in case it was necessary to make anyone forget about our presence here. I suppose we should use it on William and the rest of the family.”

“It’s just William and Cathy, the housekeeper,” Buffy replied while zipping up her skirt. “The rest of the family is on vacation.” She slipped on her skimpy camisole and cleared her throat. “You can turn around now.”

Spike turned around to face Buffy but still felt uncharacteristically awkward. “Well, I suppose I should go and take care of this spell thing then,” he said finally.

“So how does it work? Will it make William forget everything about me?”

Spike shrugged. “I suppose.”

“Doesn’t seem like my meeting him would have any impact on the future though.” Buffy thought again about the way Spike had touched her that night. She felt a cold knot in her stomach as she wondered if performing the spell would somehow alter the way he felt about her. She knew she was thinking irrationally but what if erasing William’s memory of her meant ultimately erasing Spike’s love? As much as it surprised her, she realized that she was beginning to accept the reality of his love and even welcome it. She still couldn’t identify the nature of her own feelings for him but she knew with certainty that his advances were no longer undesired.

“Yeah, well I guess it wouldn’t have any major effect…but Willow was pretty specific. It won’t take but a few minutes…which are getting pretty numbered by the way,” Spike replied impatiently.

“I’ll do it.” Buffy grabbed the pouch. “What do I need to do?”

“Just sprinkle a some the herbs on them and tell them to forget.”

The Slayer headed out the door toward William’s room. “I’ll be right back.”

Buffy entered William’s room, tiptoed to his bed and watched him sleep for a few seconds. She sat down on the edge of his bed, opened the pouch and took out the herbs it contained. Gently, she scattered them over the sleeping man. “Forget I was here,” she whispered quietly. She stood up to go but then changed her mind and sat down again. “Maybe just remember a little - about me. And remember that you WILL love me one day.” She then took a ring off her finger, kissed it and put it in his hand. Quickly, she left his room to perform the spell on Cathy.

Part 10

“Where the hell is she?” Spike muttered to himself as he began pacing the length of the room. He knew sunrise was coming soon and Buffy was taking entirely too long with the memory spell. “Maybe she just couldn’t part with her bleeding William,” he said, sounding bitter. Seconds later, Buffy entered the room, looking breathless.

“So what took you so long?” Spike asked angrily. “Had to say good- bye to your boyfriend?” His tone was mocking.

“Oh please!” Buffy scoffed. “I had to go back and get you this!” She thrust her hand toward him. In it was a long black cloak. “Don’t want you to get all toasty when the sun comes up,” she added indignantly.

“Oh.” Spike was suddenly contrite. “Thanks.” He reached for the proffered garment. “We’d better get going.”

They headed down the long hallway to the central staircase. Buffy glanced curiously at several portraits that were hung on the wall. There was one of William that appeared to be recent and another of a young woman whom she assumed was his younger sister Emily. She smiled as she noted that the artist had captured a slightly mischievous look in Emily’s expression. Yet another picture appeared to be of William’s mother. She was a very striking woman and Buffy saw a strong resemblance to her son. The last portrait Buffy spotted was of a very serious-looking man wearing wire frame glasses and a brown tweed suit. Buffy stopped to examine the picture. Spike had already gotten a few steps ahead of her when she asked, “Is this your father?”

Sighing, Spike turned around and glanced at the portrait. “Yeah, that’s my Dad.” He sounded impatient.

“He looks kinda like a Watcher.” Buffy commented. “You know - he’s like a dead ringer for Giles.”

“Yeah, well - he owned a bookstore. How’s he supposed to look?” Spike replied, dismissing her observation.

“You mean you never noticed the resemblance?” Buffy persisted.

Spike slapped his palm to his forehead in a mocking gesture. “Now that explains that whole ‘father-son’ bond I’ve always felt for good old Rupert. And all this time I just thought it was the English thing. Now - are we going to go or what?” Buffy could hear the annoyance in Spike’s voice so she decided to stop the inquisition and get going.

As they slipped quietly out the front entrance Buffy turned back to get one final look at the house. “I never even got to meet your parents,” she remarked softly.

Spike glanced back at the familiar old house. “Yeah, well maybe we should come back one day…before we get married,” he said sardonically. “You know - get their approval and such.”

“You wish!” Buffy replied hitting him playfully on the arm.

“I do,” he said, half-seriously. He glanced at Buffy and their eyes met for a second before she looked away uncomfortably.

After leaving the house, they picked up the pace walking purposefully, without speaking. Spike found himself thinking about Buffy’s comment about his father resembling a Watcher. He remembered the night he had risen from the grave; waking up in total darkness feeling cold and very, very thirsty. He had felt the soft, satiny lining of the coffin and realized where he was. His first thoughts had been of Drusilla - of her draining him to near death and then of his drinking her blood. It had been almost surreal and at the time he hadn’t fully comprehended what had been happening to him. His baser instincts had taken over as he clawed his way out of the grave. Still feeling disoriented, he had fought his way to the surface only to find a man waiting for him. A man wearing a brown tweed suit, carrying a large wooden cross in one hand and a wooden stake in the other. His father.

Spike recalled the horror in his father’s face as he had encountered his son fully transformed into a vampire, baring his newly developed fangs and glaring at him through yellow, demonic eyes. His father had raised the cross toward him and forced him back against the gravestone. Instinctively, Spike had known somehow that the cross could hurt him. He had cowered as his father raised the stake above his head. In the last second before what seemed like an unavoidable death, Spike’s vampire face had dissolved back into his human façade. His father had hesitated. “William!” he had said uncertainly as he backed away, giving his son the chance to escape. “May God forgive me.”

Spike had looked up into the face of the man he had respected and loved his entire life and had run. He had kept running until almost daybreak, finally seeking shelter in an abandoned building. He had always wondered how his father had known what he was going to become. The idea that his father may have been a Watcher seemed absurd. But was it? Spike decided that he would have pay a visit to Buffy’s former Watcher sometime in the future to clear the matter up.

At last they reached a familiar alley and spotted the strange, misty portal waiting for them in the darkness. Buffy paused and looked at Spike. “Did you ever think about just staying here?” she asked impulsively, almost wistfully. “Just getting lost in the crowd. Forgetting about all the stuff that we normally have to worry about in the present?”

Spike gave her a weary smile. “Yeah,” he said as he affectionately stroked her hair. “It’d be kind of nice wouldn’t it?” He then thought about the kill he had made earlier in the evening and felt a chill. “But you’ve got people waiting for you in the present. You’ve got a life to live…a sister to take care of. We’ve got to go back.”

“You’re right.” Buffy smiled sadly. Acting on impulse, she gave Spike a quick kiss. “I know it.” She looked into his eyes and saw surprise and then sorrow. She took his hand and together they entered the time passage back to Sunnydale and the lives they both knew they could not leave behind.

Part 11



“Now where is it?” Spike muttered to himself. He searched through a small chest, in the corner of his crypt, that held his few cherished items. “There you are!” he said triumphantly, pulling out a small wooden box. He dusted off the worn-looking container and opened it carefully. Inside was a tiny, very tarnished ring. He took it out and held it up to the light to examine it. It was a simple silver band with a delicate filigree design. He couldn’t believe that he still had it after all these years. He remembered finding it one morning in the palm of his hand when he woke up. He had never known where the ring had come from but had carried it around and considered it to be a lucky charm, like a rabbit’s foot. Somehow, he had always felt that the ring was special, that it meant something. He had died with the ring in his pocket and had later been buried with it. Spike squinted and tried to read the tiny inscription on the inside of ring. It was almost entirely blackened by age making it nearly impossible to decipher the delicate lettering. He moved closer to the nearest candle until finally, he saw it. Just three letters: “BAS.”

“Buffy,” he whispered, realizing for the first time how the ring had come into his possession so many years ago. He wondered if his regard for the Slayer was somehow a result of Buffy’s interaction with William. He knew that his romantic notions defied all reason, and perhaps… He shook his head - it didn’t matter. There was no point in trying to analyze or explain his affections for her, he just knew that he loved her, that she felt something too and whether it be extreme hatred or love, their feelings for each other would always be intense. Spike kissed the ring and put it in his pocket. “My lucky charm,” he said smiling to himself.

He climbed the ladder to the ground level of his lair and noted that the sun had nearly set. He had plans for the evening. After he had walked Buffy home from the alley on the previous night, Dawn had invited him over for dinner and had refused to take no for an answer. She had been relieved to have Buffy back and grateful to Spike for retrieving her. He had hesitated before accepting the invitation, first turning to Buffy who nodded her okay. Spike’s stomach lurched as he imagined young Dawnie concocting a special meal of watery, blood soup, coagulated, blood casserole, and perhaps some jiggly, blood gello for dessert, all in his honor. He shook his head. Actually, he doubted there would be blood on the menu at all. Dawn seemed to cook things involving peanut butter and bananas. His stomach lurched again at the prospect of such a meal.

“Maybe we could even rent some movies to watch afterward,” Dawn had said. “I’m dying to see the latest Freddie Prinze, Jr. movie. I think it just came out on video.”

Spike had rolled his eyes. “Oh lovely!” he had commented under his breath.

“Or you could choose whichever movie you want Spike,” Dawn had offered.

“No, Freddie it is!” Spike had conceded. He had even offered to pick up the videos on his way over to the house.

Spike smiled as he thought about seeing Buffy again. He planned to convince her to go to the Bronze with him later that night for a drink and maybe after that…His smile widened. He could tell that she was starting to warm up to him. He considered her not yelling at him after sex a major advancement in their relationship. He hoped that her new attitude toward him had not been left behind in the 19th Century. Spike knew he had a long way to go in winning Buffy’s affections, but he had seen progress and felt somewhat encouraged.

When Spike reached the video store he felt a little lost. It was actually the first time he had gone into one of those places to rent a video. He recalled having visited a Blockbuster several years ago for a “late night snack,” but that had been the extent of his experience with such establishments. Although he did have a television, he didn’t own a VCR. Uncertainly, he perused the “New Releases” section for anything with Freddie Prinze Jr. in it. Having no luck, he was forced to ask the store clerk for help. He thought that he now knew how men must feel when they were sent to the drug store to buy tampons and other feminine type products. His stones were feeling very small and shrinking by the second. “Uh, my girlfriend’s kid sister is a Freddie fan,” he explained to the clerk who led him straight to the appropriate video.

“Who are you calling your ‘girlfriend’?” a female voice behind him wanted to know. Spike spun around to find Buffy standing close behind him. She smirked at him.

“What are you doing here, Slayer?” he asked, scowling.

“I figured that you might need some help.” Buffy grabbed the video from his hand. “I mean how did you even expect to rent a video here? You need to sign up for membership and give them a credit card. Do you even have a credit card?”

“Well no. I’m not exactly a good credit risk. And besides, I’ve never had much of a need to get one. It’s much more fun to nick whatever I want. Sort of a challenge, eh?”

Buffy shook her head. “Vampires!” she muttered under her breath. She started to look around for a second movie. Not seeing anything else in the “New Releases” section, she began to go down each of the aisles.

Spike followed quietly behind. When they reached the “Horror” section he paused and scanned the titles for any movies about Jack the Ripper. He was curious to see if his killing the villain had made any impact on history. Surprisingly, he couldn’t find any videos on the notorious murderer. He recalled a recent film starring Johnny Depp that had been in theatres during the summer. He went over to the girl at the counter to inquire if the movie was out on video. She had not heard of it. “No,” she said. “The only movie with Johnny Depp this summer was ‘Chocolat II’.”

“Hmmm.” Spike scratched his chin. “And you don’t have any other movies on Jack the Ripper?”

“Who?” the girl asked, puzzled. “Never heard of him.”

Spike shrugged. “Ah, never mind sweets. He was no one of any consequence, anyway.” The vampire then went off to find Buffy. He found her in the “Drama” section, intently scanning the titles. Spike stood next to her and began looking at the rows of mostly chick flicks. One of the videos caught his attention. He picked it up and started reading the summary on the back. Curious, Buffy snatched the movie from his hands.

“Hey!” he protested. “That was rude.”

Buffy stared at him and held up the box. “The Accidental Tourist?” she asked. One of her eyebrows arched sharply and her mouth formed a smug, thin line, curving up slightly on the right.

“Yeah, well…it’s a good movie.” he explained trying to sound nonchalant. “I mean it’s got a good message and all.”

Suddenly, Buffy’s smirk turned into a wide smile and she shook her head in disbelief. “I love this movie!” she said looking at him, astonished that they had actually found something in common. “And it does have a really good message.” She tucked both videos under her arm and proceeded to the rental counter. She was amazed at how Spike could surprise her at times and wondered if they would find anything else in common. Perhaps, if she gave him a chance…she thought to herself that maybe she just might. After all, she kind of liked surprises.



FIN