They were in Giles' living room looking at a musty old book in which a rather unprepossessing demon was pictured.

"So what did you say this thing was again, Giles?" Buffy asked. "A Chrome Demon?"

"No, Buffy. It's a Khronos Demon, a very dangerous being," Giles answered her.

"Doesn't look like much to me," Buffy said derisively.

"Do not let its apparent lack of stature fool you, Buffy," Giles insisted. "It may be small, but it is very powerful."

"Yeah, I bet you say that to all the girls, don't you, Rupes?"

Both Watcher and Slayer glared at the chipped vampire and said simultaneously, "Shut up, Spike."

Smirking, the unwanted houseguest flopped down on the couch munching away at a box of crackers. Turning back to the discussion at hand Buffy asked, "So what does it do? And why am I worried about it?"

"It manipulates time, Buffy. If someone has called it to this dimension, then that person could conceivably go back in time and change the past. Or go into the future, learn of current events, then return and change them, thus changing the future."

Spike's head peeked over the top of the back of the couch. "So you're saying that someone could find out who wins this year's World Cup and make a bloody fortune at the betting parlor?"

Giles sighed, "Yes, or they could manipulate stock prices, or politicians, or any number of other things that could benefit them but hurt mankind as a whole."

"Where did you say this thing was going to be again, Rupert?" Spike asked interestedly.

"None of your business, Spike," Buffy snapped. "You're staying here, or you get to have a date with Mr. Pointy."

"All right, all right, Slayer. No need to get all shirty about it," Spike sulked.

"What the hell does shirty mean?" Buffy asked.

***

Buffy managed to chop the demon's head off only seconds before the wave of light hit her. She was flung back and landed with a thud on something soft. A "woof" sound came from her cushion, and Buffy quickly rolled away. Leaping up and going into a defensive stance, she saw she was in what appeared to be an alley where a young man lay sprawled on his back, trying to catch his breath.

Buffy rushed forward and helped him sit up. "You okay?" she asked with concern. "I didn't mean to hurt you, but I really got knocked on my ass by that thing."

The young man had turned away from her and was searching on the ground around him for something. At last finding that which he sought, he placed a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles on his face and then turned to look at the strange, and foul-mouthed, young woman that had appeared from nowhere and knocked him down.

Buffy looked into a face familiar but at the same time different. The first thing she noticed was the hair. Instead of punk platinum blond, it was dark-blond and curly with wavy locks that tumbled over his forehead. The eyes were still blue, but they were hidden behind the glasses, and they held both innocence and pain. The face was full of color, not the dead white of a vampire. But the mouth, oh man, the mouth was the same.

Buffy found she couldn't take her eyes from the sensuous lips that she had become so familiar with just a few short days ago.

For his part, the young man found himself fascinated by the beauty of the girl who was studying him so intently. She had long blonde hair that tumbled wantonly down her back. Her eyes were green and her lips an enticing red. As she stared at his mouth, so he stared at hers. He became aware, finally, that he was having a physical reaction to this young woman. One that would soon become obvious if he didn't quickly stand up and distance himself from her touch.

Struggling to put action to thought, he began to rise only to have her put her arms around him and help him stand. Once upright, she continued to hold him, still staring at him, her eyes going from hair to eyes to mouth.

"Spike?" she finally said.

"I, I beg your pardon?" the young man stammered.

Buffy blinked. The voice was Spike's and not Spike's, just at the face was his and not his. His voice was cultured and soft. It sent a shiver racing down Buffy's spine and she found herself pressing even closer to him.

"Miss, I think perhaps you should let me go," he said rather breathlessly.

"What's your name?" she asked, her eyes gazing deeply into his.

"William," he answered before he could stop himself. "William Makepeace."

Buffy blinked again. Makepeace? Now there was a last name she would never have given Spike.

"William, would you tell me what year this is?"

Now it was William's turn to blink. Good heavens, had this rather beautiful, but strange, young woman escaped from Bethlehem Hospital? Was she insane that she didn't know what year it was?

Buffy read his expression and hastened to reassure him, "William, please believe me, I'm not nuts. I have a good reason to ask what year it is."

Now he was confused. "Nuts?" he asked.

"Yeah, you know, crazy."

William swallowed nervously. "You are not insane?"

"No. Look, I could probably explain everything to you, but I think it best if I don't. Could you please just tell me what year it is?"

Nodding nervously now, he answered, "It is the year of our Lord One Thousand Eight Hundred and Seventy-Nine."

"Crap!"

William jerked a little at the expletive. He wasn't sure what it meant, but he was shocked that a lady would use a word with such force.

Meanwhile, Buffy had torn her eyes from William's mouth and was looking around her. There was no doubt about it; she wasn't in Sunnydale anymore. The sound of carriages and the smell of garbage and things Buffy didn't even want to think about assailed her senses.

Looking once again at William she said rather desperately, "Look, William, I'm in trouble here. I need a place to stay until my Wa..., my friend, gets me out of here. Can I stay at your place?"

Once again William was shocked, and not a little thrilled. The thought of having this girl in his home, sleeping in a bedchamber close to his own, caused that rather uncomfortable reaction to return. But he could never bring a strange girl into his home, not with Mother there. How would he explain her?

"I'm sorry, Miss...?" he broke off realizing he didn't know her name.

"I'm Buffy," Buffy supplied, "Buffy Summers."

"Oh, uh, well, as I was saying, Miss Summers, I'm sorry but that would be impossible."

"Oh God, William, I'm desperate here. I don't have anywhere else to go. Please help me. I promise you that someday I'll pay you back. Some day when you're desperate for help, my friends and I will provide it."

The pleading in her voice touched William and an idea occurred to him. The lodge.

His father had maintained a hunting lodge not far from London. William never used it, but it was cared for, as was all the property in his rather small estate. He could provide Miss Summers with shelter there.

"I can't take you home with me, Miss Summers," William said, "but I can take you someplace else where you'll be safe until your friend comes for you."

Buffy looked into William's eyes and said, "Thank you." Then reaching up, she kissed him gently on the mouth. She only meant it to be a quick kiss, but as soon as their lips met, her heart began to pound and she found herself pressing closer rather than pulling back.

For his part, William was nearly overwhelmed. He had never been kissed by a woman before, and this woman made his heart pound at an unseemly rate. As the kiss deepened, he found that he wanted to open his mouth to her. This was hardly proper, but then kissing a strange woman in an alley was hardly proper in itself.

He was bereft when she finally pulled back. They looked into each other's eyes and William reached up to trace her face lightly with his hand. He felt a surge of pure male pride when she trembled under his touch.

"Come, Miss Summers," he said softly, "I'll hire a carriage to take us to my lodge. First I must stop at home and inform my mother I'll be away for a few days and pack a bag."

Frowning, he looked down at Buffy's clothes. "Have you any other clothing, Miss Summers?"

Buffy shook her head in the negative. She realized that she was hardly dressed in proper nineteenth century attire, but this was all she had.

"I see," William mused. "Well, perhaps we can find something for you to wear later. Come now."

With that he offered her his hand and led the way out of the alley.
 

The drive was long and the carriage ride was uncomfortable, but somehow Buffy managed to fall asleep with her head on William's shoulder. As she slept, she twisted her body so that she was pressed tightly up against him, her arm thrown intimately across his abdomen.

William's manhood was once again responding to her proximity. He was hard and aching, and when she moved slightly causing her hand to brush against his erection, he moaned, his hips jerking up.

Buffy's eyes opened and she asked, "William? Is something wrong?" As she talked, she pushed herself back. Unfortunately the placement of her hand caused her to push against his member and he groaned; this time in pain. Buffy realized what she had done immediately and tried to apologize.

"Oh God, William, I'm so sorry. Did I hurt you?" Under normal circumstances, Buffy Anne Summers would never have done what she did next. But these were far from normal circumstances. Without conscious thought, she reached down and started to caress the appendage she had just injured.

William drew in a deep shuddering breath of air and thrust his hips up, pushing his length further into her hand. Embarrassment filled him at his ungentlemanly behavior, and he hurriedly took hold of her hand to remove it. "Miss Summers, I do apologize. Please forgive me; I meant no disrespect."

Buffy stared at William in the dim light of the carriage lamp. She had grasped his hand when he had grabbed her, and she clung to it. Her hand tingled from where she had touched him. Buffy was in shock, for she had discovered that Mr. William Makepeace, soon to be known as William the Bloody, the Slayer of Slayers, was a very well-endowed young man.

As she stared into his eyes, so he stared into hers. They leaned forward at the same time, their mouths once again connecting. The kiss started off light and soft, but soon it deepened. William was the first to pull back gasping for air. "Miss Summers, we shouldn't," he began, trying desperately to remain the gentlemen his mother had raised him to be.

"I know we shouldn't, William," Buffy whispered, "but I really, really want to." With that she pressed her mouth to his again. William released her hand and began to run his fingers shakily through her hair. Buffy's hand returned to her exploration of his shaft, tracing the length and breadth of it through his trousers.

Again William grasped Buffy's hand. "Miss Summers, please," he gasped out breathily, "I beg of you. Should you continue, I fear I shall embarrass us both."

"Don't you like me touching you, William?" Buffy asked as she pressed kisses to him.

"God, yes," he moaned out.

"Then let me touch you, please, William."

William pressed his forehead against hers, and releasing his hold on her hand, he nodded his permission. Buffy's hand returned once again to his hardened length, and then finding the buttons on his trousers, she began to undo them.

"Oh God, Miss Summers," William sobbed as he was freed from the constricting cloth. "Call me Buffy," she said as her small, warm hand gripped him, and she began to slowly run it up and down his length. Flicking her thumb over the tip, she used the drop of precum she found there to lubricate his shaft. William was now kissing her with hot, wet, desperate kisses as his hips fell into a rhythm to match hers. As his crisis neared, he began to chant "Buffy, Buffy, Buffy."

When he came, Buffy covered his mouth with her own to capture his cry. She held him close as he shivered from the force of his climax. When he had calmed somewhat, she tucked him back inside his trousers and buttoned him back up.

"How long will it be before we get to this lodge of yours?" Buffy asked quietly.

"I'm not quite sure," he replied shakily. "Not long, I think."

"Good," Buffy said, and when she looked into his eyes, he read the promise of more delights to follow.

***

True to his word, they reached the lodge about thirty minutes later. William had used his handkerchief to clean up the mess his ejaculation had made. He had been somewhat ashamed, but Buffy had immediately returned to kissing him when he was finished, so he quickly forgot his embarrassment. Her soft, sweet mouth opened for him and when he grew bold to touch her bosom, she not only allowed it, but moaned in pleasure. He grew even more emboldened and flicked his thumb over the tip of her breast in imitation of her earlier actions, and felt his shaft respond to the hardening of her nipple and her deep throaty moans.

When the carriage came to a halt, they hastily disentangled themselves and disembarked. William gave the coachman enough money to obtain lodgings in the nearby village with a request that he bring them food the next afternoon.

Once inside the lodge, William lit the gas lamps. Buffy looked around in curiosity but her attention soon returned to her companion. She wasn't sure why, but she found it almost impossible to keep her hands from him. When he had finished lighting the last sconce near the stairway, he turned to her and held out a hand. He feared that she would laugh at him, or tell him that what they had shared in the carriage had been a mistake, but she came to him immediately, taking his hand and placing another sweet, soft kiss on his mouth.

"Buffy, I don't want to force you into doing anything you don't wish to do," William told her quietly. "I offer you shelter and my protection without hesitation or expectations."

Buffy kissed him again and said, "You're a good, good man, William Makepeace, and I want you very, very much."

With a moan, William pulled her to him in a passionate kiss. Then sweeping her up in his arms, he began to ascend the staircase to the master bedroom. Entering the room, he gently placed her upon the large bed and then left her to light more lamps. Returning and lying beside her, he began to shower her with kisses. His hand clasped her waist and his thumb rubbed slowly against her ribcage. He had been surprised to discover that she didn't wear a corset, but if anything, that knowledge only increased his ardor. Buffy answered him kiss for kiss, and then she started to push his jacket from his shoulders. Pulling back from her, he slid it from his arms and let it fall unceremoniously to the floor. Once the jacket was gone, Buffy's eager fingers began to undo the buttons of his shirt.

He again pulled back from her, removing the collar and cuffs and then pulling the shirt from his body. Buffy gasped at what had lain hidden under the proper Victorian clothing. He was wide of shoulder and his chest tapered down to a flat muscular stomach. "God you're beautiful," Buffy breathed.

"I'm only a man, Buffy," he answered. "You are the one who is beautiful. May I see you?"

Buffy began to unbutton her own blouse. Removing it, she reached behind to unhook her bra when William stopped her. "Buffy, I realize I know very little of women's undergarments, but may I ask what it is you are wearing?"

Buffy smiled at the look on his face, a mixture of confusion and lust. "It's called a bra and it's what women wear in my ti...town. In my town."

"It's quite attractive," William told her. Reaching out, he ran a finger along the lacy edge. Then moving forward, he pressed a kiss on the plump flesh that peeked over the top of the lace. Buffy began to breathe in shallow little breaths as he allowed his mouth to wander over her. "Spi..William, please, let me take the bra off now," Buffy moaned.

"Oh yes, Buffy, please," he pleaded, and watched with hunger in his eyes as she at last revealed her breasts to his sight. They were small but so perfectly formed that if he were to design the ideal woman's bosom, this would be it. Hesitantly, watching her for any signs of denial, he placed his hand on one breast cupping it, squeezing it gently, tenderly. He wanted to kiss it, to take the hard little nipple in his mouth, but he wasn't sure if that was permissible. And so he asked.

In answer, Buffy drew his head to her breast and gasped as his lips captured the swollen bud. He sucked just a tiny bit, afraid of hurting her, but soon realized that she was receiving pleasure from his actions and drew in harder. When Buffy moaned and held his head even closer to her, he grew emboldened and carefully grazed his teeth over the nipple. Buffy jerked and cried out and fell back on the bed bringing him with her. William lifted his head from her breast and returned to her mouth. The kisses were getting more passionate, more desperate, as their desire increased. He kissed her and caressed her and Buffy grew aware that he was rubbing another impressive erection against her leg. Pushing him away, she unfastened her skirt and removed it. Once again the sight of her underwear caused him to halt the proceedings.

She was wearing only a tiny scrap of cloth around her hips. It was the most erotic thing that William had ever seen. He again traced the flesh above the lace and then inserted a finger under the elastic waistband. "What manner of material is this that allows such play?" he asked in amazement.

"William, please. Don't pay any attention to this. It's just stuff they make women's underwear from. That's all." Buffy hoped that he would forget all about the bra and thong panties. If it weren't for the fact that she was enjoying the view of his beautiful body, she would wish that he were like the Victorians she had read about who made love under the covers in the dark.

Taking his hands, she slipped his fingers under the waistband and told him, "You can take it off me if you want."

A shudder went through William and he had to close his eyes and breathe deeply to keep from spending right then. Once under control, he slowly drew the strange, exotic garment down her thighs and off her body. She now lay totally nude before him. The goddess Aphrodite, Helen of Troy, Cleopatra, and every other legendary beautiful woman could only pale in comparison to this tiny, lovely woman who was sharing his bed.

He ran his hands up her sleek, firm thighs and when she spread her legs for him, he almost sobbed. Stopping just short of the area covered by soft curls, he hesitated, not sure exactly what he should do. By now Buffy had realized that William was a virgin and so, talking his hand, she placed it on her mound. "Touch me William. It's all right. You can touch me and taste me anywhere you want."

William looked up at her in surprise and heat fairly blazed from his eyes. He had heard of the pleasures of oral copulation. No man, regardless of how sheltered his life, reached the age of twenty-four without hearing stories. Could he really do this?

Moving one finger, he slipped it between the lips of her vulva and felt for the first time in his life the slick, wet heat of a sexually aroused woman. Slipping it even further, he found her tight entrance and gently eased inside. Buffy thrust her hips up when she felt him enter her. William watched in fascination at how she took pleasure from so simple a thing as his massaging digit.

He wanted to continue touching her, he wanted to put his mouth on her, but his erection had once again become far too painful to ignore. Withdrawing his finger from her, he said, "Buffy, I, I want to be inside you, my love. May I come into you?"

In answer, Buffy again unfastened his trousers. William helped her shove them down past his hips and then sitting up he quickly removed his boots and divested himself completely of the unwanted clothing.

Now as nude as she, he lowered his body to hers. The sensation was beyond anything he could ever imagine, and he hadn't even entered her yet. As her breasts pressed against his chest, as her legs opened for him, he believed that never again in his life would he feel such love, such tenderness. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

Reaching down, Buffy guided him until he was slipping slowly, gently, into her. She was tight and he was large, but her wetness helped his entry and his gentleness eased any pain she would have otherwise felt. Once he was fully seated in her, he had to stop. He was afraid any movement would end this delicious, intoxicating moment. As soon as he had control of himself, he began to move.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he withdrew and then plunged. His head has pressed into the crook of her neck and her legs were wrapped tightly around him. He tried to keep the pace slow for as long as he could, but far too soon, the need to increase his pace overcame him and he began thrusting more rapidly into her, making little grunting and growly noises as his speed increased.

Buffy was totally lost in the sensation of being with Spike, with William. Never had she felt anything like this. Angel had been gentle, but she had felt clumsy and scared and it was too soon over. With Parker it had been pleasant, but, for all his experience, he hadn't been a particularly generous lover.

William was more than making up for her previous two less than satisfactory experiences. As she neared her climax, she turned her head, baring her neck to him, wanting something more, something primal. And then she felt it. William's blunt, human teeth were at her throat, scraping and biting just a little, his mouth sucking and licking.

Buffy came with a scream. William followed shortly thereafter.
 

Buffy had never felt so loved. William held her close to him as if afraid that if he let go, she would disappear. They kissed and caressed each other as they recovered from their passion.

As the night wore on, William came to realize that although Buffy had not come to his bed a virgin, she had little more experience than he. And so they experimented together. And they found that what gave them each the most pleasure was his mouth on her.

Once the strength returned to his limbs, he began to kiss his way down her body. Suckling at her breasts, trailing kisses over her ribs and hips, he had stopped at her fur-lined center. Looking up at her, he had said, "Buffy, I want to kiss you here. May I?"

In response, Buffy had opened her legs and raised her hips to his questing mouth. Tightening his tongue into a sharp point, he tenderly licked his way from her opening to the tiny notch he found buried between her folds. He knew he had found something special when she grasped his head and began to undulate under him. Licking, sucking, swirling his tongue over the tiny nub, he quickly learned what pleased her. He again grew hard as he listened to her moans and sobs. Hearing her cry out his name in passion made him feel strong and manly for the first time in his life.

Buffy had never felt anything like what William was doing to her. His tongue traveled everywhere, tasting everything, giving her more pleasure than she knew could exist. Her climax exploded through her, causing her to thrust up so hard she dislodged him from her body. But he soon was with her again, mouth on hers, sharing the flavor of her passion with her as he thrust deeply into her once again. He was less gentle with her this time, his passion and need overwhelming him, and as he pounded into her, she answered him thrust for thrust. And they both came for the third time that night.

When they recovered, William turned her over onto her stomach and kissed his way down her back. Reaching the firm mounds of her buttocks, he kissed and caressed them, spread them and inserted his finger between the cheeks, rubbing lightly and pushing forward until he once again found her dripping opening. Buffy moaned and thrust her backside up to him, much in the manner of a female cat. Scooting down to the end of the bed, William pulled her down until her feet were on the floor, legs spread, and she was leaning over the mattress. Standing behind her, he pushed his way back into her heat and then covering her back with his body and holding her hands stretched above her head, he began to slowly thrust. As he moved, he began to talk to her, telling her how beautiful she was, how he loved her, and reciting poetry to her. The poetry was awful; Buffy was well aware of that, but the meaning behind the poetry was so beautiful that she wept.

At last totally exhausted from their lovemaking, they fell asleep. William was awakened by a pounding on the door, and pulling his dressing gown around him, he went to answer it. The coachman stood there with the food that William had requested. Gratefully taking the sustenance, William turned to find Buffy standing on the staircase, dressed and tense as if expecting an attack.

"Look, my love, the coachman brought some food. Are you hungry?"

"Starving," came Buffy's relieved reply.

Going into the kitchen, William made them each a sandwich from the bread and roast beef contained in the basket. A bottle of wine was also included, and after pouring them each a glass, William made a toast to his newly found love. Taking a sip, they kissed, tasting the flavor on each other's mouths.

When they finished eating, they retired to the sitting room where William built a fire in the fireplace and they sat on the settee entwined in each other's arms before the blaze. Totally satiated, they were happy to just sit together, talking quietly, occasionally sharing a kiss.

When the light hit her, Buffy was totally unprepared. She felt herself being torn from William's arms and in a desperate attempt to stay with him she reached out crying, "William!"

***

Giles watched as the area in front of him glowed. As the light brightened, he heard Buffy's voice crying out, "William!"

And then she was there, disoriented but unharmed. Rushing up to her, he gathered her to him, asking worriedly, "Buffy, are you all right?"

Buffy looked up into her Watcher's face and began to sob piteously. She didn't even notice the vampire that stood behind Giles, a shocked look on his face.

"How did I get back here, Giles?" Buffy asked with a shaky voice. He explained that the time travel was limited to twenty-four hours. Once the time was expired, the traveler was returned to his point of origin.

"Buffy, I must ask you, did you do anything that might have changed history?" Buffy shook her head no. "I only met one person Giles, and I didn't really tell him anything about myself." Relieved, Giles helped her to his car.

They returned to Giles' flat. Buffy had recovered, insisting that it was just the wrenching trip through time that had caused her reaction. She refused to even look at Spike.

Giles insisted upon preparing a soothing tisane for Buffy, but upon going out to his kitchen realized that he was out of the herbal tea he needed. Buffy tried to tell him that she really didn't want any tea, but Giles was insistent. Gathering up his car keys, he told her he would be back shortly.

As soon as the door was closed, Spike came up to Buffy. Without looking at him she only said, "Don't."

"Buffy," he began.

Glaring up at him with tears in her eyes she told him, "Spike, if you value your life, you'll keep your mouth shut."

"Sorry love, can't do that. We need to talk about this. About what happened between us."

Jumping to her feet, Buffy snarled, "Nothing happened between *us* Spike. You are not William. You're the thing that killed him!"

"I have his memories, his body, his feelings, Buffy. I'm as much William as he was."

"No, you are not," Buffy snarled. "You don't have his soul."

Spike had no answer for that. He didn't have William's soul, but he did have the memories, awakened from their century-long slumber. He remembered the taste of Buffy, the feel of Buffy, the scent of Buffy.

An ache began in him, a longing to recapture what he had felt, what William had felt, so long ago. Once more closing the distance between them, he lifted a hand and gently traced down her face. He felt a wave of triumph as she trembled slightly under his touch.

"I may not have his soul Buffy, but I can give you the same pleasure he did. Let me love you Buffy, and you'll see."

Buffy jerked away from him again. "No! Without his soul, you are not him. Without his soul, you are nothing! Don't ever touch me again, Spike."

Spike stared at her. An obsession was growing in him. An obsession that would not be quenched until he had her back in his bed. Someday, he swore, someday she would come to him again. Someday he would possess her again.

And so they stood, only a few feet apart, but separated by a century and a soul.

And they had no idea that in less than three years, William would again gaze upon the face of his beloved.

The End