The Seven Circles of Samsara
©2004 Evenstar

Chapter 1

Sunnydale, May 2003

They ought to have been basking in the afterglow of their love making, but instead they cleaved to each other, unsteady and fearful, though neither would speak of it. They knew the coming day could be the doom of them all. Both longed to hear professions of love from the other. But they were saving all their bravery for the coming battle. There was too much history beyond the sanctuary of the small cot they shared. One misstep and the peace they'd created this night would be gone.

"I have a wish," Spike said, his voice quiet while his fingers toyed with hers. Her cheek rested on his bare chest with her hair fanned out over his shoulder and arm.

"What is it? Can I know?" Buffy replied, her fingers moving to dance over his chest, being chased by his hand. He pulled the blanket over them to preserve the heat and he kissed the crown of her head.

"That you'd been born in my time or me in yours. I was a quiet, guileless ponce who cared more about his poetry than the world around him. But I was a good man."

"You wrote poetry?"

"Yes, love, but that's not the point. I had everything money could buy, but it didn't bring me the simplest things in life. The things I needed. It was always just mother and I, you see, we lost father when I was a tot. Mother always wished for me to have a family of my own someday. Turned out differently of course. I would've fallen for you in an instant."

"It's a good wish."

"'Course, I doubt you'd have given me a second glance."

"I'm not so sure about that. I like good men. And you're very handsome."

"I have curly hair." Buffy giggled and hugged him. "And I wore glasses!" She pressed a kiss to his chest and snuggled in deeper.

"Go to sleep, Spike."

"Sure, love. G'night."

"Spike?"

"Yes?"

"I would've fallen for you too. Goodnight."

Rome, Winter 2004

Buffy had been watching the moon's reflection in the rippling waters of the fountain for the better part of the night. White and blue danced before her eyes in a sparkling symphony. The night was crisp, with snow threatening to fall, but she remained, sitting quietly by herself. The evening's perfunctory patrol was behind her and she wasn't due home for hours. She'd been sitting long enough for her legs to feel numb, yet she couldn't draw herself away. She was pensive and more than a little sad. For the most part her new life in Rome was pleasant, if not dull. Her brief affair with the Immortal had naturally turned around and nipped her on the butt. She was ready to give the dashing Italian everything, but when she couldn't seem to go all the way, he quickly grew bored of her. In hindsight she knew the reason. She wasn't over Spike and now, months later and well over a year since his death, she knew she probably never would be. Keep on living from one moment to the next, that's all she could do. She both cherished and cursed the final moments she'd shared with her vampire the night before the final battle.

He was tender, more so than ever before. His body had worshipped hers with every sensuous touch and whispered word. She'd never felt a more complete love in her heart. How could anyone hope to come near her when she'd already known the rapture of her soulmate? She remembered his sweet wish, how he longed for them to have known each other in simpler times. Letting the moon hypnotize her, she imagined waltzing in a grand Victorian ballroom, he with the shy doleful smile that always tugged at her heart strings. There'd be walks in the daylight and nights spent making love under heavy brocade covers surrounded by soft feather pillows.

Buffy closed her eyes and dipped her fingers into the frigid waters of the fountain. The city would block the flow of the water through the aqueducts that gave life to the old fountains once winter settled in and the night life would crawl instead of bustle. She closed her eyes and sighed. "It was a good wish, Spike. If only we could've been so lucky. I wish we could be together now, just how you wanted us." She smiled ruefully and stood to leave. Upon opening her eyes a very different scene greeted her. Fear took a tight hold over her as she tried to assimilate all she saw before her.

The buildings were essentially unchanged, save for their trim being of different colors than she knew previously. But the streets were alive with a different people altogether. There was frost on the street and she slipped when she tried to step away from the now empty fountain. The sensation of snow flakes pricking on her skin caused her greater unease. A horse-drawn carriage crossed her path and nearly getting run over jolted the Slayer to her senses. The street lights that barely illuminated the cobblestone road showed her that this must be the past. She couldn't seriously believe it, but the for fact that there were police constables milling about in a doorway, men rushing home from their places of employment and couples leaving their home to no doubt attend dinner parties or balls. They were dressed in 19th fashion and speaking in Italian. Confused and still in a terrible fright she stumbled into the road aimlessly.

"Signora! Attento! Signora!" a male voice called after her and when Buffy turned she saw the thundering hooves of a horse about to trample her. Seconds later she was whisked off the ground and spirited away from disaster. She was in a man's arms, being held closely to his body. He was warm and the chest her cheek was nestled against was hard and firm. She clung to him, her savior. "Siete avete danneggiato?" Buffy braved looking at him and the face she was met with shook her to the core. "Siete avete danneggiato?" he asked again.

"What?"

"Oh! Are you English?" He looked over his spectacles with perilous blue eyes. Already she was drowning, it was him. It was William. "Miss?"

"A..American..." She looked up at him, adoration painted on her face as her fingers curled around the lapels of his suit jacket, sneaking under the heavy woolen coat he wore. He was dressed in the best finery of the day, head to toe in black, with a hint of earth colored tweed underneath. There was a thick rim of fur on his coat that made his shoulders more broad than she knew them to be, while the top hat he wore made him look more debonair than she'd ever remembered him being. "You saved me."

Even in the cold she saw his cheeks blush hot and long soot colored lashes hid his eyes from her. He placed her on the ground and took a step back. "Forgive me, I should not linger." With a slight bow her turned to leave.

"Wait!" She caught his arms and turned him around. He looked at her, expectantly, for the first time taking in her beauty. She was dressed oddly and shivering, but her hair shone golden as it cascaded down her back. Her eyes captivated him. There was a sadness there that he'd seen before in his mother's that had not yet faded even in all the long years since his father's death. The silence between them as they waited for the other to speak was pregnant with possibility. Buffy wanted to throw herself into his arms and claim him, while he couldn't help but string words together inside his mind speaking of her angelic beauty. He cleared his throat and bowed again.

"William Convington at your service, Miss..."

"Buffy. My name's Buffy Summers."

"Pray, do tell Miss Summers, why do you walk alone this night?"

"I always walk alone."

"Surely not! Such reckless behavior can only lead..."

"I'm always alone."

"I'm sorry. Are you cold?" She nodded her head and immediately he began to unbutton his coat. Moments later the heavy garment was around her shoulders, the fur soft against her cheek. "Allow me to escort you home. A lady shouldn't ever walk alone."

"Thank you. Why are you here?"

"Well...er...our Italian solicitor is over seeing the sale of our vineyards. There were documents for me to sign here in Rome."

"You speak Italian? I never knew."

"Of course you couldn't have known, we've only just met. I speak enough to get by, but I'm afraid that I lose my vocabulary over the months back home. Where do you live?"

"Uh...I don't remember." They started to walk, William's arm protectively around her shoulders. She huddled into his coat as the wind picked up and the cold continued to bite at her face.

"Are you quite alright Miss Summers? You're not, um, rather...do you not have a home?"

"I'm lost, William. I was lost until you found me." She touched his gloved hand that rested on her shoulder and his body quaked, obviously nervous to be near her.

"It's only a short walk to the villa. I'm not the sort of man to turn away a lady in distress. You may spend the night, if you wish, we have many spare rooms. How is it that you aren't dressed for the weather?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't have an explanation."

"Perhaps a warm cup of tea by the fire will allow you to regain your senses and your memory. Mother would warn me not to trust you, thinking you likely a thief or a woman of ill fame."

"I'm not a thief or a prostitute."

"Forgive me, I never presumed you were. The circumstances of our meeting are rather unique, you must admit. Most ladies and gentlemen are in for the night. Who could guess that the only two people on this path were destined to meet in such a way. I playing Sir Lancelot to your Lady Guinevere."

"My knight in shining armor? Yeah, I guess you are." They rounded a corner and came upon the entrance to a garden. It was waning in its spirit, but the beauty of the design remained. The leaves had all died and fallen from the trees and shrubbery and the branches and twigs were covered in frost and snow, resembling a million upturned icicles that glittered and shimmered despite the lack of light. William opened the gate and she passed before him through carefully sculpted branches that had been woven together over the course of many years into a circle. As William followed her a wave of something passed over them. Neither one spoke of it, but they paused for a moment until William urged them towards the house. Ever chivalrous, he unlocked the door and insisted she precede him.

"Mrs. Claythorne?" William called. Scant seconds later a rotund woman of sixty plus years came scurrying down the hall towards the couple.

"Master William! What have you brought us?" the woman asked, taking the coat of off Buffy's shoulders, then with a puzzled look on her face, taking Buffy's own coat.

"This is Miss Summers, she'll be spending the night. Perhaps you'd be so kind as to turn down a bed for her."

"My word Master William, shall you be bringing home stray animals next I should wonder!"

"Mind your tongue Mrs. Claythorne. Miss Summers is our guest, we shall take tea in the front room and I'm sure Miss Summers wouldn't say no to a bowl of your stew." Giving her a stern look that came from years of having to manage the family's affairs on his own, Mrs. Claythorne acquiesced to William's request with a curtsy and went about her business.

"She doesn't like me, does she?" Buffy asked as William guided her to a room towards the end of the long hall.

"Nonsense. Mrs. Claythorne is merely protective of me in Mother's stead. Pay her no mind. Now have a seat and perhaps we can talk about your situation." Buffy curled herself into the large armchair set in front of the roaring hearth. William offered her a blanket, which she gladly accepted. He sat across from her and waited until Mrs. Claythorne had brought the stew and tea before commencing with his questions. "You'll forgive me if I'm too forward, but I worry for you."

"You've only known me for less than an hour."

"True, but I make it a habit to follow through on my promises of being a knight. You said you were lost and you do not remember where you live." William removed his spectacles and drew out a handkerchief from his breast pocket, polishing the lenses. It reminded her of Giles at first, but then a strand of his dark blond hair fell across his forehead. Buffy fought back tears at the sight of an innocent Spike before her, his soul pure from knowledge of anything dark. "Have you any family?"

"I have a sister."

"Will she not worry? I can have Hobbes send word."

"That's not necessary. I doubt I can contact her. I'm on my own."

"You're an American. Are you traveling on your own?"

"I was, but I thought I'd like to stay in Rome." She began to eat her stew, taking comfort is its warmth while William served them tea.

"Again, I ask your forgiveness and do tell me if I overstep any boundaries, but your clothing..." Looking down at herself, Buffy knew she must appear very strange in her turtle neck sweater and blue jeans.

"I don't have anything else."

"Were you robbed? Has someone done you injury? Is that why you have lost your memory?"

"I made a wish." William furrowed his brow and looked quizzically at her. Never before had he behaved so forthwith a lady, especially one he was not acquainted with, but this young thing before him was vulnerable and lost and he was drawn to her. He sensed that perhaps their meeting had been fate and that before long the purpose of it would make itself known.

"What sort of wish?" She put her bowl aside and looked him in the eye. Just then Mrs. Claythorne reappeared in the doorway.

"Pardon me, Sir, but the beds have been turned down and the fires lit in your rooms," the woman explained.

"We'll just finish our tea, then turn in," William said. Another curtsy from Mrs. Claythorne and she departed. He turned back to Buffy who had resumed eating her dinner. William watched her for a time and the way the firelight played over her features.

"William?" He cleared his throat and composed himself, then unabashedly met her eyes.

"Yes, Miss Summers?"

"Have you ever found yourself at a point where you have no clue which direction to turn? What path to follow? Have you ever felt so alone that you'd give almost anything to have something of your own? Something to cherish? I wished on the moon tonight and when I looked back from where I was sitting, I was somewhere else."

"You speak in such a way, it almost sounds as though magic was wrought."

"I don't know, maybe. Why did you bring me home with you?"

"It is not in my nature to leave a lady out in the cold." He allowed himself a smile when he saw the bright glimmer of gratitude in her eyes.

"You're a good man, William." His smile deepened for a moment, before it became a yawn.

"Dear me, excuse me Miss Summers, by I think it is time to retire. Mrs. Claythorne will tidy up in the morning." Buffy finished her stew and had a sip of tea before taking the hand offered by William. He led her upstairs to her room and bowed to her, bestowing a kiss on her hand and wishing her pleasant dreams before slipping into his room across the hall.

There was a nightgown laid out on the bed for Buffy. It was a slip of the softest linen with lace at the throat and the cuffs of the long sleeves. It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. She took off her own clothes and slipped the gown over her nude body. She was shocked by how cold the fabric was against her skin. The sheets were no more warm than her garment, but the fire had not yet begun to truly roar and gave off little heat. She pulled the covers up to her chin and shivered in the cold bed. She supposed William was doing the same. She smiled to herself at the thought of him. He was dashing, charming and everything she imagined him to be. It wasn't that she saw Spike in him, but rather she'd seen William in Spike. Over a century of blood and mayhem and forged her champion, but always at the core was the soul that now slept across the hall from her. He was handsome indeed, so much so, that Buffy felt herself grow a little warmer. She'd spent too many nights alone in her bed missing him, which prompted her to suddenly sit up, toss away the covers and head straight across the hall.

William sighed and closed his book, setting it aside. He was tired and in want of a good night's sleep, but thoughts of the young woman across the hall plagued him. Or, rather, enraptured him. She was the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes upon, so mysterious, yet so fragile. When he'd first seen her there he'd spent only seconds under her spell, before the whinny of the horse about to descend upon her spirited him into action. Never before in his life had he acted so purely on instinct, tossing aside all care for himself in a quest to rescue her from possible death. Her explanations were cryptic, though he suspected no malevolence or duplicity on her part. He was often one to spin fantasies and wild notions in his head and tonight was no different. He imagined what it would be like to kiss Buffy, to hold her in his arms and to... No, he told himself, he mustn't think of her in such a way.

There was creak from by way of his door and he bolted up in bed, the motion of which blew out the candle on his bedside table. She appeared to him as an angel, illuminated by the flames in the hearth. Her long tresses shone as a shower of gold and through the sheer fabric of her nightgown the curves of her body were clearly outlined. He felt his body respond and embarrassment quickly overcame the joy that she'd come to him.

"Is...is something wrong Miss Summers?" he asked, voice shaky. She closed the door and quietly padded across the floor towards the bed.

"I'm cold."

"Isn't your fire lit?" She reached the edge of the bed and he shrank from her. The last thing Buffy wanted to do was scare him by being too aggressive, but she wasn't here for that. Spike used to hold her and her body now ached to feel his strength and protective embrace, that she couldn't help herself even if she wanted to.

"Yes, but I'm lonely too." Gingerly, she opened the covers, looking to him for permission.

"This isn't proper. When I brought you here, it was solely for your own safety. I require no recompense from you. Certainly not this. I would never ask that of you. Never."

"I know you wouldn't William. That's not what this is. I'm grateful, yeah, but I just..." Tears brimmed her eyes and William felt defenseless against her. He lay back down. She crawled into bed and drew herself close to him, laying her cheek upon his shoulder and her hand on the bare chest exposed from his night shirt. She closed her eyes and let out a long breath. He was tense against her for the longest time, then sleep came to him too. By the time the grandfather clock in the sitting room downstairs chimed midnight, they were warmed and slept soundly while the snow fell outside.

Chapter 2

When Buffy next woke, she found herself alone in the bed. William's spot beside her wasn't cold and that calmed her. She searched for him, but she was alone in the bedroom. There was no light rimming the drawn curtains, so she figured it was very early still. Across the hall there was a basin of water to freshen herself with as well as several Victorian style toiletries for her. Choosing for practicality's sake to dress in her own clothing, Buffy felt chagrined at not costuming herself in the fine dress that hung from the door of the wardrobe. Maybe another time, for William. The house was cold upstairs and Buffy was glad when upon crossing the threshold to the downstairs she was met with a rush of warm air. From by way of the kitchen she heard the clanging of pots and a few annoyed grumbles muttered under the breath. She followed the lamplight and there was William, nursing burnt fingers in a bowl of cool water.

"What happened to your hand?" Buffy asked, making her presence know. He was briefly startled then looked her way. His lips were pressed together tightly and he seemed bashful. "Where's Mrs. Claythorne?"

"Off to market I suspect, or at least I hope. She's never been this careless."

"What do you mean?"

"The tea from last night is still in the sitting room and she's nowhere to be found. And neither is Hobbes for that matter!"

"Who's he?"

"My manservant."

"Maybe they've run off together on some wild romantic getaway." William looked horrified at the suggestion and Buffy smiled at him for it. "I'm just kidding. Let me see?" Taking William's hand her own she inspected his burnt fingers while at the same time noticing the porridge bubbling on the stove. "It's not too bad. Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore."

"We're you making breakfast? My mom used to make me porridge."

"I thought you'd be hungry. I think I've ruined it." Ushering him over to the table, she directed him to the chair before returning to the stove.

"It's looks just right. Where's the turn off thingie?"

"Beg pardon?"

"How do I turn it off? Make the hot go away."

"It's wood burning." With a pout Buffy realized her brain was still thinking in 21st century terms. Time to get with the older times. Think of Sherlock Holmes, she told herself. In an effort to save herself further embarrassment, Buffy went about finding bowls for the porridge and dishing out portions for them both. There was a bowl of berries on the table already as well as cream and honey. They ate in silence until William finally broached the subject that had been at the forefront of his mind since before he'd fallen asleep the night before. "Miss Buffy? I have a query."

"You have a who?"

"A question."

"Oh. Go ahead."

"Why did you come to my bed last night?" Buffy let her spoon rest in her bowl and William did the same as they faced each other. When Buffy didn't speak, he prodded further. "It wasn't proper. Did you mean to seduce me?"

"I know it wasn't proper and no, I didn't do it to seduce you. I felt safe with you, like I knew I could trust you. Was it so bad?"

"No. No." He shook his head vehemently. Some of the tension left his body as their eyes met again. "It was lovely. The...the best night of my life, holding you, watching you sleep when I woke this morning. I simply cannot fathom why a lady would come to me for comfort."

"Because you are comfortable, William. You're warm, kind and handsome."

"Handsome?" He blushed and Buffy found it so endearing. He looked a lot like Spike in that moment, sweet and open. Wanting love, but too frightened to ask for it.

"No one's ever said that to you before?"

"Never. I don't talk with women often. I haven't ever, really, truth be told." Buffy realized for the first time that his behavior went beyond Victorian proprieties. William must still be a virgin. She rose from her chair and came to stand before him. She reached up and removed his spectacles and he offered no protest.

"How old are you, William?"

"Twen...twenty-eight. And you..you? Wait! My apologies, I shouldn't have asked. Mother said it's rude to ask a lady her age."

"Twenty-three. Have you ever been kissed?" The painful soul staring back out at her answered her question well enough. Her eyes fluttered closed as she moved her mouth closer to his. The soft caress of the back of her hand ghosted over his cheek moments before her lips were pressed to his. He gave a quiet whimper at the first touch, but soon enough his spine slackened and he allowed himself to enjoy her attentions. Buffy opened her mouth slightly to draw air into her lungs and as William did the same she slipped her tongue past his lips and into his mouth. William followed her lead and curled his tongue with hers. They caressed and tangled together for the longest time. Of its own volition, William's hand found its way to cup her face and pull her close enough so her middle was pressed against his chest.

When they finally parted it was with mutual smiles. "Did you like it?" Buffy asked, replacing his spectacles on his face.

"Very much, Miss Buffy."

"Good." She sighed and straightened up, then walked over to the small kitchen window to pull back the drapes and let the sunshine in. To her surprise and confusion, she was not met with sunlight, but a dark, cloudy sky and the presence of falling snow. "When does the sun come up this time of year?"

"Close to seven." He pulled out his pocket watch and joined her by the window. He showed it to her and frowned. "A quarter past nine."

"Did we sleep all day? How could we have missed a whole day?"

"It's a mystery to me, but it must be so. No wonder Mrs. Claythorne's gone. It's Friday night and she and Hobbes are free to go as they please on Friday nights."

"Wow. I don't think I've ever slept that many hours in a row. Must be the magic of being in your arms. The snow's still falling. Would you like to go for a walk? We just got up, so we can't go to bed."

"Alright, I'd enjoy that. We'll have to find you a coat and some gloves. You'll catch your death of cold in those flimsy coverings you had on last night. I have another similar to my own, the length of which should hide your attire."

"What's wrong with my attire?"

"I don't mean to insult you, however I cannot help but take note of the fact that you do not dress yourself in the fashion of our times. I suppose customs are different in America. I would like to buy you a dress if I may?"

"That would be wonderful. There was one hanging in my room, but I didn't think I could get into it on my own."

"Ah yes, the corset. I've noted that Italian fashion is not quite so binding. We can look at the shop windows to find something you like and return tomorrow during business hours. I picture you in green, an emerald hue to match your eyes. Come, we'll set out now and return home to hopefully a full house."

***

William had bundled her up in a coat that was similar to his own, save for the fact that it was made entire of a dark colored fur. Buffy felt positively scandalous being wrapped up in such a fine garment and a little guilty for whatever creature had gone into making the coat. She reminded herself that there was no People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals in 19th century Italy. The fur collar was high enough to cover her ears and protect them from the cold and the length of the coat on her small frame came down to her ankles. She was toasty warm save for the tip of her nose. The leather gloves that her hands were snug inside were too large for her, as they were William's spare pair, but they were lined with wool and she relished them. William looked devastating in his long black coat and hat with her arm linked with his. They passed through the circular gate and out on to the street.

They were silent for the longest time before Buffy made a none too comforting revelation. "Is it just me, or are the streets kinda....empty of people?"

"I have made the same observation, though I did not think I ought to voice it, less it upset you."

"I'm not upset, just totally wigged." He furrowed his brow, concerned now that it was becoming increasingly obvious that something was a miss. Once again William's arm found its way around Buffy's shoulders, subconsciously pulling her in close to him. A little ways down the street they noticed that there were no street lights lit. They were walking down into black-gray night, shrouded in snow.

"Perhaps we should return home, wait until morning for our little sojourn?"

"Good idea." They turned back and at that time, Buffy caught something out of the corner of her eye. "Wait a minute, I think I see a light down there, down the alley."

"Ought we to investigate? Perhaps there's someone who knows why the streets are barren." There was no sign on the window or the door, but through the dirtied panes of glass they could perceive the flicker of many candles. Agreeing with a glance, William turned the door knob and cringed when the old door creaked loudly. Once inside the scent of fragrant oils and incense assaulted them. The room was extravagantly decorated and very much out of place in Italy with its Eastern style. Brocade fabrics and tapestries adorned the floor as well as the walls. Exotic lamps hung from the ceiling with paper shades of unique shapes that cast warm colors. Statues of goddesses with many sets of arms surrounded them, made of bronze and even gold. "No opiates in the air," William commented.

"No whats?"

"Opium." There was a tall hooka pipe in the corner, but it seemed abandoned.

"Oh! I don't get it."

"Sometimes a man must escape the trappings of a mundane life, and the Chinamen and those from by way of the East Indies are able to provide them with that escape. They often fall into an abyss from which they are unable to come back."

"Have you ever?"

"No! No. I prefer a less treacherous form of escapism. My writings are sufficient."

"What do you write?" William was about to speak when he detected a noise, like the rustling of leaves, from the back of the room. A slender woman with black hair to her waist came around the corner. There was a veil of gray obscuring her features, but one had the sense that she was very beautiful. Her costume was of pale blues, grays and whites in contrast to their surroundings. The din of her silver jewelry was a foreign and haunting music. With an outstretched hand, she beckoned them to follow.

William and Buffy cast each other questioning glances and together decided to follow through with the journey that had led them here. Behind a maze of hanging draperies and screens was an unusual doorway. It was just barely taller than William and cut from the wall as a circle. The woman passed through ahead of them and together the couple followed. In the center of this new room was a circular table no more than two feet from the ground, surrounded by cushions of gold. The room itself was painted blood red with murals of bizarre gods and goddesses, some horrific and others ethereal in their beauty. The woman sat down and motioned for William and Buffy to do the same. After removing their heavy winter coats they sat close to each other across from the woman.

"You are late in coming, my friends," said the woman in an accent that indicated her ethnicity.

"You're from India?" William asked.

"Presently, though not always. None of us are who we were before. We are ever changing bodies, but the soul remains and grows with each new life it experiences. There is no end to Samsara."

"Samsara?"

"Where we are. It is the material world that the devas gave to humans and the devas can be made to bend to our will through hymns, prayers, rituals, sacrifices, and wishes." Buffy gasped at the last word. She'd made a wish and it brought her to William. "The Samsara is a place fragmented and constantly changing, all and none of it is real and we move through it changing it as it changes us."

"I...I made a wish," Buffy revealed,"I wished to be reunited with the man I love." Warily she cast a glance towards William and found him looking upon her with questioning eyes.

"And the devas awarded you for being parted too soon. But this plain is unstable, you will be permitted only seven chances before it will be gone."

"Gone? What does that mean? And seven chances to do what?" The woman was being deliberately cryptic as far as Buffy was concerned and her panic at possibly being separated from William now that she'd only just found him was making her increasingly edgy.

"You must discover this for yourself. I can offer only clues, you know why this is so. Souls come together again and again, carrying with them the lessons from their previous incarnations, but your circumstances are vastly different. How do you stop a drop of water from drying up? Drop it into the ocean. Samsara is the road for the journey of the soul, on and on, life after life without end, but when you find your ocean your soul will become part of a greater whole, eternally bound to it. This is the only peace you can hope for. To find your soulmate is liberation from Samsara. You shall ascend together into eternity." The silence hung in the air until the woman rose to her feet and clasped her hands together before them, bowing and retreating into the shadows. The candles that illuminated the room extinguished seemingly of their own volition, leaving Buffy and William alone in the dark. The cold settled in around them quickly and they pulled on their warm coats.

William took her hand in his and lead her back through the circular door and into the outer room. To their astonishment it now resembled an abandoned shop with boxes and wares haplessly strewn about and covered in layers of dust and cobwebs.

"I think it best that we return home, Miss Buffy," William said, his nervousness apparent. He'd been told many strange things by the mysterious Indian woman, but what had him so pensive now was Buffy's words. She's wished to be reunited with the man she loved and now she was with him. What did this mean? He was determined to sit her down once they returned to the villa and secure plain answers from her to his questions. Outside the shop they were met with a veritable blizzard. The snow was thick and falling heavily, the banks of which had already reached the height of their knees. Coming out of the mouth of the alley proved even more treacherous. There was a mighty storm surrounding them from all corners, threatening to swallow them whole. Furthermore the blackness of the night proved it nearly impossible to make their way home. "Back to the shop! We'll never survive this!" William shouted above the blasting gales of wind and snow. Buffy offered no argument and went with him as he turned them back down the alley. To their shock and horror, the buildings were gone. They'd simply vanished.

Cowering against each other with their backs to the snow, Buffy and William tried to stave off the freezing weather. Buffy forgot all notions that the Slayer was a powerful force of her own and could survive any test of man, beast or mother nature. She was cold and scared and if William hadn't been with her, she would've laid down in the snow and waited for hypothermia to steal her sense before death came.

"William?" Buffy begged,"We have to move or we'll die out here. We have to find the house." He squeezed her body close to his with all his might, then released her and locked his arms around her shoulders and started them moving through the snow in the direction he believed home lay.

It seemed they had been trudging through the snow for hours. Every step was a battle, with the snow mounting higher and the wind and ice cutting into their exposed faces. The coats offered decent protection, but too much longer out in the blizzard and it wouldn't make any difference. Each kept the other motivated and moving. When one paused to rest, or started to give up, the other pulled them along and gave them the strength to carry on. Nonetheless, the time soon came when their lost wanderings seemed to promise only one result, their end.

William found himself making a few wishes himself, along with an endless stream of bargains with God, if only he and Buffy could be spared. He knew suddenly that he loved her. It was so fulfilling an epiphany that the snow seemed to cease to be and impediment, but rather a challenge. She'd exploded into his life, or rather he did into hers, and from the first moment he knew they shared a connection. She trusted him quickly and made advances that should have offended him as a gentleman, but instead enticed him in a way that compelled him to protect her with his life.

Because Buffy was smaller than him and had little padding on her body, the cold caught hold of her to the bone. She began to feel sleepy and now leaned against William as he pulled her along. She smiled to herself and remembered sharing his bed just hours ago and how warm his body had been next to hers. It was a dream she'd had she decided as was this snow. She convinced herself that she was actually back home in Sunnydale, her mom and Dawn asleep across the hall, and Spike was outside her bedroom window keeping vigil from his spot under the tree. Everything was just fine.

Chapter 3

When Buffy fell away from his side and into the snow, he did not allow his panic to overwhelm him and quickly scooped her up in his arms and carried her. Crystalline patterns of ice had formed on his spectacles and he could see no better than if he was blindfolded. It was the brushing upon his coat of the sequoia hedge that surrounded the villa that let him know he'd reached home. Passing through the gate once more he moved with an angered determination. He burst through the door and kicked it closed behind him. Rushing to the sitting room where the fire still flickered with life, William lay Buffy on the ground and tried to bring her back to life. Her lips had turned blue and she was cold to the touch, but there was still a pulse and that heartened him. He added logs to the fire before peeling off her ice encrusted fur coat. Her breath was thready and her eyes closed, but she was alive.

"Forgive me," he whispered to her as he removed her turtleneck sweater, and then her jeans. He felt a shameful stab of arousal in his abdomen at seeing her in only two small undergarments. Determined and clinical, he removed his own garments down to his briefs. Snatching the woolen blanket that was draped over a chair, William lay down and pulled Buffy's body close to his. He wrapped them both in the blanket mere inches from the now roaring fire while under the covers his hands rubbed her cold skin to get her circulation moving. Having paid no attention to his own state, he was barely aware of his eyes closing as he fell into slumber.

When Buffy awoke she felt something oppressively heavy around her, and her skin felt hot, itchy and sweaty. She sniffled and managed to open her eyes. She squinted when she was met by the hot light of the fire. Tilting her head away from the light she opened her eyes again and saw a sleeping William's face pressed against her shoulder. The memories of what had transpired before her waking came back to her and a moment later she realized they were safe in his house. He'd saved her life and now he was wrapped snugly around her, the pair of them under a blanket. She smiled to herself when she felt something rather substantial pressed against her bottom. This little scenario was quite to her liking. Gently turning herself around in the circle of William's embrace, she began to kiss his mouth. He responded while still in his sleep. When he came to his senses he let a sob escape him, then returned her kiss with equal fervor. When her hand made its way between them to cup him, William came to his senses.

He scrambled away from her, taking the blanket with him,"Get your clothing on!" he exclaimed, quickly dressing himself. Buffy made no motion, but instead sat there stunned and hurt by his outburst. "Didn't you hear me? Make yourself decent." Overwhelmed suddenly by being in a strange place, in a different time in addition to almost dying twice, it was all too much for the petite Slayer. She didn't weep like a meek little Victorian lady, but instead straight out bawled. She sniveled and groaned and whined while fat tears streamed down her cheeks.

She wasn't feeling especially proud of her breakdown whilst she was having it, but when William came back to her and pulled her into his arms she quieted and held on to him. "There, there, Miss Buffy. I didn't mean to shout," he soothed, too wounded by her emotional outburst to make an issue of the fact that she was still undressed.

"You're a jerk!" she sobbed, her fist hitting his shoulder none too gently. "Do you know how many times I've almost died!? Then you go and save me! Again! And when I tell you I love you, you don't tell me I don't!"

"Love? Of course I'd believe you." Buffy stopped crying and looked at him, realizing the slip she'd made. She pulled back and angrily wiped the tears from her face.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me." William placed the blanket around her shoulders and stood.

"Wait here by the fire, you need to stay warm. I'll return shortly." He left the room and Buffy didn't watch him go. Instead she tried to compose herself. Her clothes lay in a semi-wet pile on the bricks by the fire place, and therefore dressing in them was out of the question. She felt cold again now that William had gone. What had she been thinking? She knew he wasn't Spike, not completely. William was wonderful in ways all his own, ways that would remain part of the vampire she loved. William returned and with him he had her nightgown and a dressing gown. He wasn't quite so withdrawn, kneeling down her and helping her slip the linen garment over her head and then into the quilted robe. "I didn't mean to upset you," he began, looking her in the eye. "I'm not sure how I ought to behave. I know how I should be with a lady, but you make me think...You make me feel." He touched her cheek and sighed. "Why don't you relax, I'll go make us something hot to drink and something to eat. Are you hungry?" She nodded and gave him a smile which he returned in kind.

William's first order of business now that Buffy was settled was to lock all the villa's doors and windows on the ground floor. He felt unsettled and the act of securing himself inside somehow made it slightly better. He was in doubt that poor Mrs. Claythorne or the dutiful Hobbes would be returning tonight. He prayed they'd found safe shelter. He sent another thank you to the Lord above when he found more firewood in the pantry and enough preserves and food to last them for several days. The cheeses and salted meats would serve them well, as would the turnips, squashes and potatoes. The apples and pears would need to be eaten soon, but all in all, the two of them were provided for. Furthermore, the cellar was brimming with bottles of wine and spirits. And of course with the snow outside, they wouldn't be without water.

He found a pot and filled it with water from the pitcher by the window and set it on the still hot stove, pausing to add a few more logs to the fire. He knew that eventually the wood would be gone, but tonight it didn't concern him. Taking care of Buffy was all that mattered to him. Despite being a man with a fortune substantial enough that he could be a man of leisure, William knew his way around his own kitchen. He put the tea in the egg shaped strainer and set it in the second china tea pot and remember that this morning's cream and small pot of honey were still in the sitting room. They were out of lemons, but William thought perhaps a sniff of brandy was more in order. He busied himself with laying out a few of the cakes that Mrs. Claythorne had baked the day before along with a few slices of bread and cheese. As he made his way back to the now boiling pot on the stove, something at the window caught William's eye.

At first he saw nothing when he peered out to the snowy night, then a pair of slited glowing red eyes made itself know, directly on the other side of the glass. William jumped back in shock and fright, staring wide eyed as more sets of eyes made themselves know. He could barely make out the shape and form of their bodies, but they appeared muscular and hunched over. "Demons," William gasped. Suddenly the bodies scattered and the distinct sound of snow crunching underfoot could be heard. William felt his heart beat faster and acted quickly instead of remaining paralyzed by his growing fear. One hand put his grip around the handle of a carving knife, while the other flung the curtains closed. He waited and listened. The footsteps didn't make themselves known again and after a few minutes he let himself calm.

During those tenuous moments when he half expected some sort of demonic beast to crash through the window, he formulated a plan of action. His instincts were telling him that he must continue as he had all night long. He had to keep Buffy safe and with him. He closed his eyes and put things in order in his mind, then set about the work. The first thing he did was return to the sitting room with a tray full of drink and food for Buffy. He found her still sitting on the floor, the blanket over her shoulder and her feet and ankles bare. Just the slightest bit of revealed flesh excited him, but now was not the time. Though her earlier behavior led him to believe that she wanted his attentions.

"Buffy?" he spoke softly, kneeling down with the tray and placing it next to her. After fetching the decanter of brandy from the side table he joined her on the floor. She looked over at him, a soporific smile on her face.

"Hey," she replied, the firelight dancing in her eyes.

"I've brought us something to eat and some hot tea."

"Are you planning on getting me drunk?" She nodded in the direction of the liquor.

"No! Of course not."

"I'm just teasing William. I'm sorry."

"No need for apologies, I'm just not used to this."

"No used to what?"

"Being in intimate company with a lady."

"You don't have to be nervous. You're safe with me. Oh! Are those butter tarts? And cheese? I love cheese!"

"Yes, help yourself. You must be famished." She accepted the cup of tea he passed her and ate her half of the food while he did the same. They were silent for the most part, watching the fire and letting the warmth seep into their bones. After a time Buffy had to fight to keep her eyes open and without a word, William fetched a cushion from the seti and encouraged her to lay down before the fire. Boldly he pressed a kiss to her cheek and covered her with the blanket, then left her alone and set about his work.

The clock chimed seven o'clock, waking Buffy from her sleep when all the other tomes of the hours had not. She yawned and stretched, working out the kinks from sleeping on the floor. She knew instinctively there was no sunlight outside, even though she'd been sleeping for hours. The day didn't exist in this place. There was only cold and death outside the walls of this house, and inside there was warmth and there was companionship. There was true happiness. But for how long? How long could they live before the firewood and the food ran out?

Her senses searched for William, but found no trace of him. She was alone. A sharp panic seized her, fearing that he too had disappeared. She rose to her feet and dashed for the door at the precise moment he opened it and entered the room. She collided with him, taking him in for a fierce hug. His arms wound their way around her waist, lifting her up and holding her firm against him. "Where were you?" she pleaded, her voice muffled against his chest.

"There was work to be done, but I'm finished now." He set her down, but still held her. A trickle of sweat ran down the side of his face and upon noticing it, Buffy put her hand to his brow.

"You have a fever!"

"Nonsense, just been doing a bit of work is all. I meant to wash before coming back, but I.....I missed you."

"I missed you too." Before he lost the nerve he bent his head down and kissed her lips for a long moment before parting from her. "What were you doing?" With a sigh he took her hand and led her to a chair, having her sit as he knelt before her.

"I don't want to frighten you unnecessarily. But there's been activity outside."

"Activity? Do you mean there's somebody out there?"

"Buffy...I suspect that they're not human."

"Demons? Terrific, just what we needed."

"You're not surprised." He stated the fact rather than asking the question.

"Oh William, it's the longest story ever. I've seen demons before." He worried his bottom lip and Buffy surmised that he had been enjoying his role as her knight and here she was squashing it. "They're horrible, frightening things. I'm glad I'm not alone, that you're here with me."

"I'll not let them touch so much as a hair on your head. Come with me! Everything's ready upstairs, I have a few matters to attend to down here, then we can go. I thought perhaps we both ought to have a wash since there isn't a bath upstairs." Confused as she was by his ramblings, she couldn't help but try and make advances.

"Together?" William cleared his throat and swallowed.

"To...together?"

"Could we?" William put his hand on her shoulder, his thumb caressing her.

"There isn't time." That wasn't a denial exactly, but she knew he was hesitant.

"That's okay, maybe next time."

"I should like that...I mean..."

"You mean you'd enjoy it, and so would I."

"Go on, have your bath, the water's hot." William pointed her in the right direction, then left her by herself. When she emerged half an hour later, she found William had been waiting for her on the other side of the door. He looked tired and disheveled. Without saying a word he took her hand and led her upstairs. Between their two bedrooms a ladder ascended to another level of the house. "There's a loft up there and we should be safe if anything enters the house." Buffy wanted to explain about her being the Slayer, but she didn't have the heart to. This place they were in was made just for them and the more time she spent here and the more time in William's company she began to see that this place wasn't about Slayers and Vampires. It was about lost souls finding each other. She had to nourish him, and let him come into his own. Becoming a vampire had freed Spike from the shackles of a emotionally binding life. There had been a century of walking in the wrong direction, but not matter how far down the path he'd walked, he still turned around and walked back, right into her life and her heart.

If she played the roll of Slayer instead of that of Buffy, it would emasculate William and damage the tenuous romance they'd begun. She was here to learn something about her soulmate and she could only believe it was the same for him. "Are you coming with me?" she asked, giving his hand a squeeze.

"I still need to barricade the doors and windows, then have my own bath. I'll be with you soon enough. It's not much, but there's a place for you to sleep, be comfortable. There's food and wine." She gave him a peck on the cheek. Sometimes it was nice to just be cared for and not have to always be in action. "Don't be long. I'll miss you." With a nod and a slight gnawing of his bottom lip from him, she climbed up.

William watched until she was all the way up before making his final rounds. He wasn't sure he really knew what he was doing or if this notion of his would really protect them, but facing demons singled handed would be folly. As he went through each room on the lower level, knowing the cellar had no other entrances and exits save the one from the pantry, William pondered the situation. He and Buffy were cut off from the outside world, just the two of them. They would need to rely on each other to stave off boredom and cabin fever, and more so than that, companionship. He dared not hope their relationship would progress to a more carnal one, but he couldn't help the fantasies that circled around inside his mind. The very thought of being more intimate with her was nearly enough to send him over the edge. When he was near her his whole body vibrated with years of pent up emotion and longing. Moreover he'd already begun imagining a possible future with her. He'd never had the courage to speak to any of the women he'd fancied and felt he could easily confess his love to the woman waiting for him upstairs.

No one, except for Spike, had ever made a room so beautiful and welcoming. Every candle in the house must've been moved upstairs, along with every pillow, blanket and other items designed to make them a cozy little hideaway. The loft was triangular, but long with ceilings a little lower than the level below, but still with enough room to stand comfortably. On one end of the room was fireplace, which was situated above the one in the sitting room, whose chimney flowed into this one and out into the night. There was already a fire started. On the opposite side a single circular window encompassed nearly the entire facing of the room. It was as tall in diameter as Buffy herself. The window was made up of six circles overlapping each other, encompassed within a larger circle in a stained glass pattern. Each section of glass was a different color. She imagined it must be very beautiful in the sunlight. In the center of the room was an array of pillows, cushions and blankets. She saw the food and wine he spoke of. It was perfect. She cast off her robe and got herself under a quilt and waited for him.

She was almost asleep when William finally came to her. He pulled up the ladder as quietly as possible, deposited the bundle of his day's clothes off to one side and closed the hatch, sealing them inside their haven. Her eyes fluttered open when he sat down beside her. She was surprised to see he'd dressed for bed. His hair was damp from his bath and he looked new again. "Get under the covers," she bade. "I want to hold you."

"Alright." Once he'd obeyed she pulled him close, resting her cheek against his. She reached up and took off his spectacles, placing them aside, then cupped his cheek and turned his face to hers, capturing his mouth for a kiss. William's hand found its way behind her back, holding her even closer with their tongues stroked and their lips caressed. When they parted, William was shaking. "I don't know what to do."

"It'll come naturally. You knew this was going to happen since you first had me in your arms, didn't you?"

"Yes...yes. I felt something and it's been growing ever since. I won't deny it anymore. Too much has happened. I don't know where we are, but this isn't Rome. I think we're the only two people in the world. I cannot fathom what lies beyond this house, but I don't care. It's what our mysterious lady told us, life no matter when or where it is, is the journey to find the mate to one's soul. And through a miracle I cannot begin to comprehend, I have mine in my arms. And I love her. With all my heart." Her eyes brimmed with tears and he caressed her cheek.

"I love you, William. I have for so long."

"Have we met before?"

"In another place and another time. Have you ever thought about immortality?"

"No."

"It happens to you not too long from now. You'll go through so much, so much....pain."

"And then we meet? And we'll love each other?"

"Ye....yes." Her reply came out as sob as her tears began to flow. He was perplexed by her tears and could only try and comfort her with soft kisses over her face and sweet words. Buffy was overwrought and cleaved to him in desperation. It was as if she were reliving those final moments with him beneath the Hellmouth. She knew she had been too late to tell him. His claim that she didn't love him was a surprise at the time, but with over a year separating that moment and this one, she knew full well that Spike had every reason not to believe her. Which made her time with William all the more precious. Through her tears she locked eyes with him.

"Now, this won't do. My treasure, there shouldn't be tears. How can I take this sadness from you?"

"By believing I love you when I tell you." It was easy enough for William to deduce where her tears came from.

"There's a time when I don't?"

"You were immortal, but you could still be killed...and when I told you for the first time and you didn't believe me and then you died!" She confessed it all one breath before her crying overcame her again.

"How could I not have believed you? I believe you now. Buffy, love, please don't cry." She shook when he called her 'love'. She touched his face and smiled weakly.

"You were so brave. We'd been fighting for so long against evil and we just needed time alone to rest and I know we could've worked it out. I would've made you believe me."

"Fighting?"

"You were one of the strongest, bravest men I'd ever known....you were my only good thing in a really scary, violent world."

"I've always thought that I'd rather live one day as a lion than a thousand as a lamb."

"You were a lion, William...but you were so forgiving, so loving to me. You didn't let a hard and ugly world change who you were deep down and I was drawn to it, once I found it. I didn't always see it, I was horrible to you. And by the time I found the real you, it was too late."

"Love is stronger than death. Haven't we proven that?"

"I'm trying. I'm scared. Not of what's outside, but that this won't last. It's cruel to let us have only a little while, but that's how the Powers That Be work."

"We'll defy them! Time and place are irrelevant. It doesn't matter if we're torn apart, we'll find each other again. You have faith in that, don't you?"

"I'm trying. I really am...but I've already lost you once."

"Perhaps then..." William paused and conjured up every ounce of his courage. He moved his hand to cup her breast, his thumb rubbing her nipple through the fabric. "We should affirm the bond." A second later he started to panic that his forward manner had offended her. He withdrew his hand and began an apology. "I'm...I'm so terribly sorry...I shouldn't have..."

"Shhhh. Your fine Victorian sensibilities are going to deny you one of the best experiences of your life." She pushed him on to his back and sat up. Her nightgown was tossed aside a moment later and Buffy waited and allowed him to gaze upon her body. He stared at her in wonderment, mouth slightly agape and eyes fixated on her breasts. Buffy noticed his growing erection tenting the covers and smiled as she came to him. She lay herself on her side parallel with him and his eyes never left her. Tentatively his hand returned to her breast, letting the weight of it fill his palm and the warmth and softness of it astonished him. He felt the nipple harden under his palm and watch her eyes flutter closed. "Don't stop, William."

"I'm not sure I know what to do. I've never..."

"Don't think about it, just follow your instincts." A moment later his hand moved aside and was replaced by his lips. It seemed perfectly natural for him to take the swollen bud in his mouth, roll his tongue around it and gently suckle. Buffy's hands kneaded his shoulders and gradually gathered his nightshirt up his back. He parted from her long enough for her to divest him of his shirt and then he returned to her breasts. Both his hands grasped them as his mouth moved ravenously over them. Buffy didn't care that his technique was unskilled, merely that she was with him was more than enough to arouse her. His erection rubbed against her leg, trying to relieve some of the tension. She shifted on to her back and pulled William over her. Opening herself to him, his hips settled between her thighs. When the tip of his length came in contact with the heat of her opening he shuddered, then began to sink himself inside her.

Both of them were tense as they joined, as if it was the first time for both of them. When he was fully seated within her tears sprang to his eyes and his breathing became labored. His hands gripped the surrounding cushions in vise tight grips and his stomach fluttered as a sensation somewhere between ecstasy and nausea overcame him. Being inside a woman was nothing like William could have ever imagined. He'd secretly read books on the subject of erotica, but none of them had spoken of the sickly sweet feeling as if one was poised at the moment before death when all knowledge of the secrets of the world were laid before you before your soul was forced to leave its body. At least, that was how William was interpreting what he was experiencing.

The heat of her was scorching and the tightness of her sheath was nearly too much to endure. All pains and pleasures coursed through him. With his eyes shut tight and his body arched William all but disappeared from his own mind. It was the touch of her palm to his now sweat drenched face that brought him back to reality and reminded him that he wasn't alone. "Don't forget about me," Buffy said, a smile gracing her face. Her hands massaged his shoulders as she locked eyes with him, encouraging him to rejoin her. "William, make love with me."

"I...I love you, Buffy."

"I know, I love you."

"I'll not let anyone take you from me...I'll always find you." With that he bent down and kissed her. He pumped his hips slowly, reveling in the sanctity of his first time with the woman he'd come to love completely in less than a day. It surprised Buffy how little difference this felt from being with Spike. William was warmer, his skin was more moist and ringlets of curls dangled in front of his face, but it was the same man she'd fallen for all that time ago in Sunnydale. She realized now that she was fortunate to have been loved by both the demon and the man and how despite loving them separately, she loved them together too. Spike and William; it was impossible to separate them into two beings now, especially in her heart. And he was here with her now.

There was so much emotion flowing between them and their bodies fell into synch with each other, urgent but tender. William found his bearings soon enough. Buffy already knew he was masterful at this and was quickly learning that it was a natural talent. His thrusts were measured and determined, with a circling of his pelvis that helped his cock stroke the sweet spot inside her each time. Her knees dug into his ribs and the familiar flutter of her walls around his flesh came over her. It seemed like they'd been kissing for hours, but though Buffy was content to be submersed in the pleasure of his body, but William had found his voice and needed to speak.

"Buffy?" he asked, nearly breathless, his movements slowling to a tempered ebb and flow against her. "In...in our future, are we married?"

"You never asked me."

"But you'd have been my wife if I had?"

"Absolutely."

"Thank you. I needed to know."

"Not to burst your Victorian bubble of propriety, but isn't being soulmates a bit more significant?" He laughed then, with her as he realized the folly of his subversive way of arriving at a marriage proposal now. Still smiling and laughing they began to kiss again, taking on a new enthusiasm. Surprising him, Buffy rolled them over until she sat atop him. Placing her hands on his chest she rose off him, then lowered herself back down. William was entranced by the sight of his cock disappearing into her depths. She began to ride him and being suddenly dominated excited William beyond his wildest dreams.

"Buff...Buffy!" William took hold of her waist, thrusting up to meet her downward one. "A...a golden goddess has descended from the skies. A valkirie on winged chariot doth dance before mine eyes..." Poetry? Spike had never done that when they'd been together. It was really terrible, she admitted to herself. But nothing had ever turned her on so much. She moved faster and more words poured from his mouth and she knew it came from his heart. Her orgasm came on strong, starting from deep in her belly and radiating out through every cell in her body. Her senses detonated into an ecstatic pulse that matched her quickened heartbeat. William for his part was utterly immersed in nirvana, his body strained up against her. His head was back and his mouth open as he cried out her name seconds before his body allowed him release. In that moment he felt has if his soul was leaving his body along with his cum.

He didn't realize he'd been weeping until Buffy was cradling his head to her breasts and rocking them. They were both still shaking a little from the intensity of the shared experience. William's head was swimming and he had trouble breathing. He felt incredibly hot and the nausea had returned, but that didn't stop him from wanting her again. "Buffy?" he spoke.

"Mmm hmmm?"

"I have a terrible headache." She tried to stifle her giggle, but it escaped nonetheless. Her mirth caused him to smile and then act. With a burst of action he'd spun her around and entered her again, already fully hard once more. "Perhaps the remedy..." He started to move at a strong thrusting pace,"Is to do it again? And then perhaps again after that?"

"O...okay" Buffy remembered then, that once was never enough for them.

Several hours later they lay next to each other, shoulders touching, stretched out and finally satiated. Buffy sighed and shared a knowing gaze with William. "Are we always this...er...energetic?" William asked.

"Usually. Once was never ever enough. We once spent an entire three days in bed."

"Really? I'd fancy that."

"Me too."

"I'm sure you would, my little minx!"

"Me? I'm not the one pitching a tent there, lover." Embarrassed by the erection that simply wouldn't disappear, William turned on his side and drew her close, kissing her on her neck.

"You're the cause, my elegant siren."

"I like your pretty words, William."

"I left my notebook downstairs. My head is full of words to describe your beauty, your power, your soul. You're an inspiration that will last a poet untold ages. Sleep now, we've earned our rest." Buffy lay in his arms contentedly for some time, watching the snow fall outside the large window. The fire was low, but the candles still burned. Their reflection against the colored glass was hypnotic and reminded her of the mysterious woman's shop they'd been lead to earlier this night. The woman's words and warnings played over and over in her mind. Her mind was searching for answers to the cryptic messages, as it did when she woke from one of her Slayer dreams. William was sound asleep, his warm breath on her neck and his arms snug around her. Buffy was beginning to wane, her eyes heavy.

But this plain is unstable, you will be permitted only seven chances before it will be gone.

It finally dawned on her, the solution. She knew the answer and it grieved her. The tears came and instinctively William hugged her tighter. She tried to take comfort in his loving embrace, but knew it was futile. When he woke, their time together had to come to an end.

Chapter 4

Even though the fire had died during the hours they'd been asleep, the room was still warm and cozy. The majority of the warmth currently surrounding them was due to the body heat conserved under layers of quilts. William's face was buried in Buffy's hair and one hand spanned across her abdomen. William awoke with a feeling of complete contentment coursing through him. The previous hours had been the most perfect of his life. He was in love for the first time, deeply in lust and at peace. The poet inside him rebelled a little, angst always fed his creativity. Hopefully joy would too.

Buffy turned over and smiled up at him, eyes bright and full of love,"Sleep well?" she asked, touching his face and brushing the errant curls from his eyes.

"I did. The fire's gone out."

"Leave it, William." He could see the change in her immediately.

"Tell me."

"I figured it out, what she was trying to tell us, about the Samsara." Buffy saw his joy crumble right before her eyes.

"Are you leaving me?" His voice broke and it was like a knife to her heart.

"I don't want to, I don't! But you remember what she said, only seven chances and we've already used up six."

"I don't understand." She took his hand in hers and held it between them.

"Each time we passed through a circle together, something about this world changed. People and things disappeared and now we're the only ones left. This house is the only place left. Outside is just a void, the dark places where demons come from, where lost and damned souls wander. This can't last forever, we have to go back to where we came from."

"I'll come with you! Wherever you are, I'll follow. Anything, Buffy, anything to be with you."

"I don't think it works that way, honey. Remember what she said though, once we find our soulmate, we become something greater, an ocean. It doesn't matter where we go, we're still together in Samsara. We'll always find each other in the end, in another life. It's forever William, we are forever."

Desperation fueled what followed and Buffy understood and shared his emotions as he made love to her one more time. There was a deep seated need to affirm their soulful connection with their bodies and William felt as if he willed it, he could hide his soul inside her. He made a wish for himself then. The tears that followed their climax were resigned and tender. They dressed in their original clothing and stood together in each others arms, watching the snow fall outside the window. The white flakes were illuminated by only the candles situated around the window. The multitude of colors reflecting around them was serene and haunting.

"What must we do?" William asked in a whisper, his hands moving up and down her back, her cheek resting against his chest.

"There are six circles inside the larger one. We break the window and jump through. We'll end up back where we started from. Bit wiser I guess, I hope. Maybe a bit less lonely."

"There is a certain peace with knowing what we do, but it won't be the same. It won't warm our beds."

"No, it won't."

"I'm not ready, Buffy."

"Neither am I."

"Must be done. Though I wish we could spend more time here together, just a little while."

"Maybe we can, maybe we should."

"No, love, you know well as I that time is fleeting. If we stay longer than we ought, longer than the time they've given us, who knows the ramifications. I don't have much to give you now. What I wouldn't give to have a wedding ring to present to you. Now before you start to give me grief about the sentiment, I'm still an old fashioned fellow and I the next time I will have you for my wife! And we will be married in a church!"

"Yes, sir."

"Here, take this, it was my father's." He pressed his gold pocket watch into her hands. "Keep it safe."

"I'll treasure it, you know I will." She tucked the item into her jeans pocket. She was shaking and he squeezed her tightly.

"Our love is stronger than this, we won't be apart for long, not when you consider we have forever. Won't be long at all."

"You're just being brave."

"You need me to be."

"You've always given me strength. You've seen me through the worst times in my life. You're my foundation."

"And I'll continue to be so, even after we leave this place." He moved away from her and picked up an old ottoman from the corner of the room. Buffy went to stand in the same corner as William approached the window. He hesitated for a moment and Buffy watched him wrestle his emotions back under control, then sent the piece of furniture crashing through the window. Instantly the darkness and cold surrounded him. The candles went out in an instant and snow came blowing in and filled the attic. Buffy made her way blindly to William. They found each other without difficulty and shared a kiss before stepping to the ledge. The glass crunched under their feet and the howling winds were deafening. She'd done this one before, taken a leapt of faith. That time it had resulted in her death, but this time with William's hand holding hers, she knew things were turn out differently. His last words to her were a whispered,"I love you." In her ear, before he wrapped his arms around her and they jumped into oblivion.

Buffy was jolted back to herself as her body spasmed. She fell from her perch on the fountain and landed on the stone of the street. She was back in Rome and as far as she could tell, everything was back to normal. Unfortunately. She sat on the lonely street and allowed herself a few tears, feeling as if part of herself had been amputated now that William was gone. When she stood up she noticed there was something in her pocket. She gave an unabashed yelp of joy when she pulled out William's pocket watch. She told herself then that she could do it, live out the rest of her life and find him again in the next one. What was sixty or so years compared to eternity? She knew she'd feel differently whenever she was lonely, or facing a new terrible challenge as a Slayer, but she'd been able to leave a little bit of her grief behind in her. She walked home with her eyes cast towards the moon. She prayed William was alright, wherever his soul was. Something told her it wasn't so far away from hers.

It was a Saturday night that she'd been with William and on the following Tuesday an unexpected knock came to the door of her apartment. She and Dawn had been eating dinner whilst watching television. On Sunday morning, Buffy had insisted Dawn take a walk with her around the neighborhood near the fountain, until they found the villa. The rather snobbish couple that now lived there wouldn't let them in, but from the street Buffy could see the window in the attic. It felt good for the sisters to share in their memories of Spike and for Dawn to know what kind of man William was. A second knock, a more insistent knock, spirited Buffy into action.

After she opened the door she stood in the doorway and looked at him. He was leaning back against the wall, thumbs linked through his belt loops. "Seems I've misplaced my pocket watch, pet. Haven't seen it about have you?" Spike drawled. Buffy saw through his bravado and that he was on the verge of tears as he looked across at her. He was different than she remembered from the last sight she'd had with of in the Hellmouth. His hair was longer and rather shaggy looking. Aside from the bleached tips it reminded her of William. There were scars marring his beautiful face and he turned his head to the side when he saw her notice them. "Was a dragon if you'd believe it. Got caught with the tips of its claws. Four clean lines. I think its rather sexy."

"It is."

"Wanted to come see you, almost did, dozens of time. Never quite had the nerve. But after....after...." She opened her arms and practically flew to her. His grip was significantly strong than William's as he crushed her against him equally weeping as laughing at having her in his arms again. Buffy covered his face in kisses, tugging on his hair. She decided then that he wouldn't be allowed to cut it. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. "Oh, Buffy, you're a sight for weary eyes." She smiled through the tears that streamed down her face. "I love you, pet."

"Love you too, silly vamp."

"That I am. There's something in my pocket for you. Not that I want to put you down but..." She allowed herself to be put on the ground, then fished into her own pocket for his watch.

"Trade you?" He saw the watch she had dangled in front of him and had to fight back tears of his own.

"Keep it, it was a gift. As is this..." He pulled a small box from inside of his coat and opened it before her. It was a ring. Not the massive multi-carat monstrosities that the Immortal had offered her as tokens, but a delicate thing of fine gold and silver filigree, with a solitary diamond fixed in a nest of flowers, each of the seven flowers contained a minute pearl. "It's no much..."

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"It was mother's...never could bear to part with it, even after I was turned. It can be our wedding ring, if you'll have me."

"You're proposing to me in a hallway?" His eyes widened and he gasped.

"Oh...oh, Buffy! I'm so..."

"Romantic! Of course I'll have you.

"You will?"

"Soulmates?!"

"Right, of course. Well then, um...c'mere..." He grabbed her around the waist and crushed his mouth to hers, while he blindly fitted the ring on her finger. They tumbled into the apartment, still kissing madly as Buffy maneuvered them towards the bedroom.

"I'll just get the door then, shall I?" Dawn said rhetorically, secretly more happy in this instant than any other before. She sat herself back down on the couch and turned up the volume. Rudolph La Renna Fiutata Rossa was just beginning on the tv and she thought to herself what an interesting Christmas this was going to be.

The End

Epilogue

London, New Watcher's Headquaters and School, Christmas 2005

Spike didn't realize at the time when he'd conjured it, that his fondest wish come true would include so much drool. The vampire awoke on Christmas day with the sensation of something warm bundled in the center of his bare chest and the cool stickiness of moisture against his skin.

"Oh Bella, honestly pumpkin!" Spike groaned. "Can't your mother remember for once in her life to be considerate enough to put a bloody towel down?!" The dozing infant paid him no mind, perfectly content to be resting on her father's chest. A moment later he was hit in the face with a hand towel. Buffy sailed past him still wrapped in a towel from her shower, her damp hair clinging to the skin of her back. Spike allowed himself a few moments to appreciate the view before carefully slipping the towel under the baby's head to absorb her little puddle on his chest. "What time is it, pet?"

"Just a little after eight. Dawn and most of the Slayers are already up and waiting impatiently downstairs for us. The others are coming around noon and dinner's at four." Buffy removed the towel and draped it over the chair near her vanity. After combing out her hair and securing it up in a tight bun, she started to dress, but stopped after putting on her jeans. She came to them and sat next to Spike on the bed and began to rub the baby girl's back. "She had breakfast at 4am. You slept through it."

"Sorry, you could've had me get her for you."

"You looked too peaceful to wake. She didn't cry, just whinged a little. Like she did when I changed her before my shower. She wanted her daddy." The baby woke and yawned then began her whimpers of discontent again. Buffy picked her up and cuddled the three month old to her chest. With her mouth open wide she sought for and found her mother's nipple and latched on. Buffy sighed and relaxed against the head board and pillows while Spike inched closer until his head rested against his wife's shoulder. Buffy began to hum a quiet lullaby and Spike caressed the baby's face, feeling the strong workings of her mouth and cheeks as she suckled.

"Oh Bella, you are a miracle, aren't you? The love of our lives." Wrapping his arms around them both, Spike thought back to the previous Christmas. After returning to Buffy at her apartment, they spent three days straight making love. They emerged only for food and once for a proper dinner with Dawn. It took some time, but he and the younger Summers sister were close again, like old times. After the final battle with the minions of the Senior Partners, Spike, Angel and Illyria had survived. The necessity to go underground had kept the three of them together and hidden while they waited for retaliation. When it didn't come they talked about maybe going back to civilization. Illyria was confident that the Senior Partners had abandoned this dimension, but Angel was more skeptical. There was still a fight out there against evil to wage as far as he was concerned. Without expectation of any other future Illyria and Spike agreed. They were formulating a plan of action one night in a highway motel room outside of Los Angeles when Spike disappeared.

He was gone for only a few seconds, but Illyria clearly observed him fade out and then reappear. She knew it was not as uncommon as the populous believed that sometimes people simply disappeared. When he snapped back into this dimension he was shaking and calling for Buffy. When he regained his senses Spike quietly explained what he'd experienced of the Samsara, omitting a few details to spare Angel's residual feelings for Buffy. He left for Italy a few days later.

While Spike and Buffy were occupied with cementing their reunion, Dawn made the call to Bath and spoke with Giles. The three of them travelled to the mansion that the funds of the past Watchers Council purchased as a home for the new Slayers in the world. Not everything went smoothly with Spike's integration back into the lives of the refugees from Sunnydale. But now, a year later, he was like family to one and all.

William had wished to leave Buffy with a child. The implications of which never occurred to him, but at the moment he thought it the perfect solution to their imminent separation. There would then always be part of him with her. The notion was gone from Spike's mind, until when on Christmas Eve they were laying in bed together.

"You cold, love?" he asked, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her close.

"There's a fire in the hearth, Spike," Buffy replied, her eyes closed and sleep beckoning. With his naked body pressed against hers she was as far away from cold as she could get. "I feel fine, perfect even."

"I know you've been feeling a bit off lately. It's a bit colder this year and we've gone on patrol every night since we arrived and you n' all the other Slayers have been flitting around trying to make this place perfect for Christmas....don't want you coming down with something."

"I won't. Go to sleep, William."

"It's silly to say this, but I don't think I can on account of it being Christmas. I just want to savor this perfect moment with you."

"Almost perfect."

"Why's that, love?"

"Because I haven't told you about the baby yet." Buffy felt Spike's body seize behind her. He touched her shoulder and had her turn over to face him.

"I...I made a wish....William did, that last time with you."

"I know you so well Spike. I saw it in your eyes then. I was going to tell you tomorrow in front of everybody, but I thought maybe you'd like to."

"I..." His expression turned from one of shock to one of such tearful joy he couldn't speak. So instead, Buffy held him and talked to him, telling him of all that was to come with the new life that a miracle had created.

"Spike?" Buffy whispered to him, giving him a little nudge with her elbow. He looked up from where Bella was still nursing, eyes bright and blue and staring up at Buffy.

"Hmmm?"

"Daydreaming?"

"Uh, no, luv. I was just remembering this time last year."

"My best Christmas ever. Except for maybe this one." Buffy switched Bella to her other breast without complaint from the baby who resumed her breakfast with enthusiasm. Bella's palm rested on the soft mound of her mother's breast, tiny fingers curling and relaxing. "She's being a little piggy this morning."

"She gets that from you. I saw you last night with the shortbread." Buffy playfully gave his ear a good cuff, then kissed his cheek. When Bella was finished, Buffy passed her to Spike so he could rub her back. Buffy finished dressing and put on a warm sky blue cashmere sweater, Bella's favorite to cuddle against. When she returned to the bed, Spike was cradling their daughter and rubbing her warm full belly while they stared back at each other with smiles on their faces.

"Our guests will be arriving soon, so you better hop in the shower. As the resident Englishman, you're on breakfast duty. Dawn's orders."

"You're making Giles help!"

"Yes, sweetie. Pass her over."

"Rather stay here all day."

"You know I would too, but we have lots of days with just the three of us. This is the only time when Dawn's home from school for more than a weekend and the only time everyone's all together and they all want to see Bella."

"I dread today and you bloody know it. All those other people making time with my girl." Reluctantly he placed Bella back in Buffy's arms, the little girl wiggly and smiling.

"She'll get cranky after the fifth new person's held her and cry until she's back in her daddy's arms." Spike sighed and reluctantly got out of bed. "Be merry, Spike! It's Christmas!"

"Hum bug!"

"Is it my turn yet?" Angel asked, holding out his arms for the baby.

"Just another minute," Fred cooed, stroking Bella's plump cheek. Spike sat in his chair on the other side of the room watching the group gathered around the Christmas tree. His eyes rested on the resurrected Fred, looking none the worse for wear after her journeys. The idea had come to Spike a few months after he and Buffy were back together. Buffy had been sound asleep and he was listening to Bella's rapid heartbeat inside her mother. He'd remembered every word from the mysterious woman in their strange dimension and played it over and over in his mind countless times. The thought came to him out of nowhere. The metaphor of the ocean inspired him to talk over his thoughts with Giles and Willow. Illyria claimed that Fred's soul was destroyed and at the time they'd all believed it. But Spike wondered, hoped, that maybe it hadn't been destroyed, but dissipated. Perhaps elements, molecules and the essence was still out there in the ocean of the ether.

Illyria grew increasingly weary of existing as less than what she'd been in her former glory. She understood humanity and had formed bonds with both Spike and Angel, so when she caught wind of Spike's hypothesis, she offered to allow her body's former owner to reclaim it. Illyria would return to the earth, go where the occupants of the Deeper Well had gone. The rulers of old had become food for the planet in the wake of the Senior Partners abandoning this dimension.

Fred's return had not been an easy task to accomplish, especially in reforming the body Illyria had partly destroyed, and the months following her resurrection had been ones fraught with angst, grief, anger and disbelief to be without Wesley. Which was followed for more sadness due to the death of Gunn. She came to live with Buffy and Spike in Rome for a while and it was Buffy who saw her through the worst of it. The two women shared a bond and no one but Buffy understood what it was like to return from death. It was Bella that had given Fred hope for the future. That after everything Buffy had experienced, Fred found that the Slayer now having a baby was a sign that a reason for living could be found.

Bella never complained when Aunty Fred held her, but much to Spike's amusement whenever her Uncle Angel held her, she started with a whimper that soon escalated to a howling wail. This time however the baby permitted the other vampire a relatively quiet cuddle before her calls for her father started up. Once Bella was back in Spike's arms she yawned and relaxed, falling asleep almost instantly. Spike shifted her into the crook of his arm and the baby curled herself inwards into a small ball against him. He walked around the large room and watched everyone around the decorated tree opening their presents and drinking various ciders and mulled wines while devouring the Christmas baking. He raised Bella up so he could whisper to her and the waking baby cooed softly before her eyes drooped shut again.

"Isn't everything lovely, my sweet?" he asked his daughter. "I remember Christmases like this from when I was a lad. All the family was together. There was faith that the world was going to always become a better place. Families were always more than just the parents and their offspring. There were aunts, uncles and cousins by the dozens. There was wassail, roasted chestnuts, pudding and goose. Carolers would go through the streets making merry. Those were beautiful, peaceful times. I haven't felt like I did then until you came along." He continued to smile while quietly humming a lullaby and swaying. Becoming a father had changed him in ways unimaginable. Moreso it had given him an inner peace that kept him content and centered and would do so for as long as he lived. His bond with Buffy had strengthened as they shared in caring for Bella. He felt his betrothed's presence long before her hand came to rest on his shoulder. Buffy came around in front of him and enveloped the pair in hug.

"What are you two cooking up?" she asked, nuzzling Belle's cheek.

"I was just telling our little queen of my Christmases past."

"These are the pre-vamping ones, right?"

"Yes, of course. I was also telling her how beautiful you looked today."

"Flatterer."

"I speak nothing but the truth."

"We should put her down, she'll sleep till after dinner."

"Rather keep her."

"I know, honey. But you can't keep her by your side twenty four hours a day, seven days a week."

"I can on Christmas though, right?" She kissed his cheek and hugged him.

"Of course you can. As long as you share with me."

"You're wanting to hold her, aren't you?"

"Just for a little while." Spike gave what resembled a very serious pout before passing the baby into her mother's arms. Bella yawned and stretched, but didn't wake, sensing only that she was still protected and comfortable. "Dawn needs your help in the kitchen."

"You bloody sneak!"

"You're the only one who remembers how to make an authentic Victorian Christmas food. And there's this week old pudding thing that you need to set on fire at some point. Who'd want week old pudding? Dawn also said something about a Mrs. Beaton, whoever she is." Spike sighed and his head fell forward.

"I haven't opened my prezzies yet."

"Poor vampy. Neither have I. You can open them after dinner with just me and Bella." He sighed again and gave both his girls a kiss before reluctantly trudging out of the room towards the kitchen. When Buffy looked back to the baby cradled in her arms she found her daughter's bright blue eyes looking back at her. "Well hello sweetness. Shall we see what Santa brought us this year?"

Many hours later, after all the turkey and goose were eaten, the Christmas pudding devoured and the spirits consumed the gathering of friends, family and Slayers went to their beds. In the master bedroom a new family lay together wrapped in each others arms atop a canopy bed surrounded by wrapped and unwrapped gifts. Buffy's fingers ghosted over the pair of pearl earrings on her ears that matched her engagement ring. Spike had them made special for her. Bella lay before them, wrapped in her new hand knit blanket, made from the same cashmere as her favorite sweater of Buffy's. The littlest Summers slept once more, tired from a long day of being fawned over. Her nursery was full to bursting of gifts that wouldn't interest her for years to come, but the gift from her father, the blanket, was a definite success. Her tiny fists grasped the fabric tightly and Spike was certain there was a smile on her face.

Perfectly comfortable in their bedtime clothing (which only remained on until it came time to get under the covers), the new parents admired the greatest gift they'd ever give each other.

"Is it just me, or has she been smiling more?" Spike asked in a hushed voice.

"Dawn says it's just gas, but I think you're right. She brightens up whenever you come near."

"She does for you too, especially right after she's nursed."

"That's because she's warm, full and drunk...and that probably is gas."

"Nonsense. You're the joy of her life."

"You are."

"We are. And she is ours. Just think of all the Christmases to come, love. How big our girl's going to get, all the things she'll learn. Sometimes I wish she could stay just like this. Then sometimes I think about the future and..." His voice faded away and his expression turned sad. Buffy knew what he was thinking. He was immortal and his girls were not.

"Live in the present, William. No one knows what the future holds. Just cherish every second we three have together."

"I do, sweetheart, I do." The baby stirred in her sleep and Spike bent forward to take her in his arms. She settled again without waking and Buffy curled up at his side, her cheek resting against the downy top of their daughter's head. Soon enough, Buffy and Spike joined their daughter in sleep. They dreamed of oceans.

The End