Chapter 6

Buffy wandered listlessly through the apartment for the rest of the day. She scrubbed her kitchen until it sparkled. She watched crappy soap operas, but avoided Passions. She rolled her eyes at Oprah, and she attempted to read a book. She thought about calling Giles.

William stayed in his room, silent, scribbling away. Buffy brought him lunch, and he acknowledged her with a polite nod and a “thank you”. She felt bad for avoiding him all day, feeling that he would probably want her company. But it was hard. She should really call Giles.

Angel called once to make sure that William wasn’t too much of a handful, and to ask her how she was handling everything. She assured him that she was fine, William was adjusting, and that she didn’t need anything. Angel told her she should call Giles.

But Giles wasn’t exactly pleased with her. They were on speaking terms, but their relationship never fully recovered. The actual miles between them were easier to cross than the emotional distance. It was hard to completely forgive what she considered to betrayal, harder still to forget about it and move on. He attempted to comfort her over losing Spike, but the words were hollow, and somehow, it hurt more than if he had done nothing at all.

She also had to call Willow and Xander, but not now. She didn’t feel like dealing with them. And they would want to come over and see him, and the fewer people gawking at him, the better. They would want to ask her questions, demand to know what she was thinking, as if they couldn’t understand. As if she was expected to learn from their mistakes.

It was frightening how easy it was to completely drift away from them. True, they hadn’t been as close as they once were the past few years, but now they barely talked at all. They were all busy piecing their lives back together, one dangerous shard at a time. Buffy wondered if she would have been so foolish, so desperate as to try to bring Spike back if she had more support from them.

Despite her newly formed acquaintances with Angel’s friends, her reformed friendship with Angel, the constant presence of Dawn, and the contact with her coworkers, Buffy was extremely lonely. Being a slayer was a lonely job, by definition, but she wasn’t the slayer anymore. She didn’t know that simply living a normal life was also a lonely job. So what had she done? Got horribly drunk and depressed and made the latest in a long line of mistakes.

And the result of that mistake was just a few feet from her; shy, skittish, alone, and silent. As the afternoon rolled into evening, she gave up. There was no reason for her to sulk in the living room, huddled on the couch around a bowl of popcorn, morosely watching the news as her thoughts jumped around the past problems and current problems and stupid mistakes and new friends and old friends.

“William?” Buffy called as she opened the door. “You doing ok in here?”

“Yes, I’m good.”

“Are you feeling strong enough to get out of bed?”

“I…I believe so. Why?”

“I thought I could cook us dinner? Maybe we can eat at the table-if you’re feeling up to it, that is.”

“Oh, well, that would be very nice. Thank you. But, I fear I’m not dressed properly for dinner.”

“Oh, of course. Um, I think I might have something for you to wear. Will you need help, you know, getting dressed?”

William’s face turned bright red. “No, no,” he stumbled, “I think I can manage quite well, thank you.”

Buffy smiled, then rifled through the plastic bags in the hall closet that Angel and given her when she picked up William. She triumphantly found a pair of pants and a button shirt that looked like it would fit him.

“Go ahead and take your time getting dressed,” Buffy said as she handed the bundle to him. “It’ll take me awhile to make dinner.”

“I’ll be right out,” he promised.

Feeling better already, Buffy set about planning dinner. There just wasn’t much food in the house. Well, not food she would serve to a guest at any rate. But then, wasn’t Victorian food supposed to be totally nasty? Maybe even Buffy’s limited culinary ability would be seen as an improvement in William’s eyes. Well, she could hope at any rate.

She was viciously attacking the onions when she heard a loud crash, followed by a yelp of pain. Without giving it a second though, she ran into the bedroom, visions of blood and broken bones filling her mind. He was fragile, unlike Spike he could be broken. Buffy found him on the other side of the bed in a jumble of clothes and blankets, blinking his eyes with a rather dazed expression on his face.

“Are you ok? Did you hurt yourself? What happened?” Buffy asked as she began to untangle him.

“I believe my foot got caught in the sheet. I guess it tripped me. Do not worry, I’m fine.”

Buffy pushed the rest of the sheets away, and pulled him to his feet. He attempted to protest, but she ignored him. She intently searched his body for new bruises or injuries, but she didn’t find anything other than the odd scrape. She did notice, however, that his body wasn’t nearly as taunt or muscled as Spike’s had been. She also noticed that William was a bright purple color from his neck to the roots of his sandy hair.

“Oh, William, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you, I just wanted to make sure you’re not hurt.”

“It’s quite alright,” he said tightly, but he was completely unable to look in her eyes, and he seemed frozen.

Still apologizing, she backed out of the room and firmly shut the door. She was blushing herself, feeling stupid for over-reacting and making him so incredibly uncomfortable. She wouldn’t be surprised if he chose to just stay in his room, and avoid the psycho who didn’t respect his personal space.

Buffy returned to her onions, and then moved on to the potatoes. But the excitement was gone, and now it seemed more like a pointless chore. He wouldn’t want to eat with her, and if he did, it would be awkward. Maybe Angel was right, maybe she was taking on more than she could chew.

Finally, the simple dinner of chicken, potatoes, and peas was completed and ready to serve. She debated over putting candles on the table, just to look nice. She finally decided to put them on the table but not to light them. A detached part of her realized that she was worrying and fretting as though this was a first date. Which was extremely silly, and probably just a reflection of her loneliness.

She knocked on his door gently, and announced that if he wanted to come out, dinner was ready.

“I’ll be right out,” came William’s muffled reply.

Pleased, Buffy returned to the table and finished dishing up the meal. By the time he made an appearance, his plate was full, and Buffy had decided maybe she should light the candles.

“It looks lovely,” William complimented.

“Thank you. I didn’t know what you would like, so I just…”

He smiled and held her seat out for her, silently indicating she should sit. Buffy did so with a small smile of her own, not really surprised by the display of his manners. He looked a bit better dressed, and he was back to his usual color, and he didn’t appear to upset with her.

“The candles are nice,” he said, the smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I thought it would a good touch,” Buffy explained.

They both tried a few bites of the meal, and Buffy was pleasantly surprised to discover that it was actually edible. Despite the fact that Buffy had successfully cooked holiday meals before, her everyday culinary abilities were still lacking. William seemed pleased with the food, and after a few small, polite bites, he really dug in. His appetite was voracious, and he didn’t have any idea how hungry he was until he took his first bite of chicken.

They didn’t speak until after he finished the chicken and the potatoes.

“I want to thank you for earlier.”

“What?”

“For checking on me when I tripped. I made an awful ruckus, it must have frightened you.”

“I was worried,” Buffy admitted, confused. He had seemed so embarrassed that she didn’t expect him to thank her.

“I won’t be so clumsy in the future. Though, I have always been rather clumsy.”

Clumsy? Must have been something he outgrew, Buffy thought. “It’s ok, I think we’re all a bit of a spaz at times. Plus you know, I bet things are a bit disorienting right now.”

“They are. I’m having a hard time adjusting. But I think writing about it helped a great deal. I was able to sort my thoughts.”

Buffy wasn’t entirely surprised that William was adjusting without any major problems. Spike was always able to mold himself to his surroundings. He was very resilient, and at his core, a survivor. It was obviously a trait completely innate.

“Do you have enough food? Would you like more?”

“If it’s not too much trouble. This really is quite delicious.”

“Be sure to tell Dawn that,” Buffy said wryly. “She’s convinced that I can’t boil water.”

“Dawn is the young lady who was in my room this morning.”

Buffy nodded. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know she would do that. I’ll talk to her about it when she gets home.”

“Is she your sister?”

“Yes, she’s a few years younger than me. School will be out soon, so she’ll be home more in the future. Do you have a sister?”

“Me? No, no, I was an only child. My father died when I was quite young. It was just me and my mother…oh god.” He looked up at Buffy, stricken. “Who will take care of my mother now that I’m gone?”

Buffy placed a comforting hand on his, remembering the story Spike had told her after the incident with Wood. She knew that it was very likely that his mother was already dead. Struggling to keep her voice neutral, she assured William that his mother would be taken care of.

“You don’t understand,” he insisted, “she’s sick. She’s very sick. She’s been ill for some time.”

“My mom was sick too,” Buffy offered softly. “I took care of her, or, I tried to. I know how you feel.”

“Oh, Miss….Buffy. I’m sorry. Did she pass away?”

Buffy swallowed. “She did, but that was a few years ago.”

His voice was low, and serious. “I don’t know what I would have done if my mother had…She means everything to me.”

“It sounds as though she’s a lovely woman.”

William looked up, his eyes bright. “She is. Just absolutely extraordinary. Very kind, and gentle. She has a lovely voice, and she always listens to my poetry.”

“I’m sorry this happened to you, William. I truly am.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I discovered something this afternoon while I was writing.”

“And what’s that?”

“If this is real, and I’m not insane, then this is…well…glorious.”

“Glorious?” Buffy asked. “I would think it’s terrifying beyond words.”

“Well, that too.” He tilted his head slightly, and studied her. “Did you ever wish you could start over? Somewhere new?”

“Sometimes.”

“That’s what this is. A fresh start.”

Buffy nodded. She felt that she understood perfectly. After all, isn’t that exactly what William needed? When he was turned, he created a completely new persona so he could start over.

“I hope I can help you, William.”

“I think you can.”

They smiled at each other, and the candlelight danced and sparkled in his eyes. Buffy felt a pull towards him, some sort of connection that didn’t have anything to do with the vampire that owned her heart. She thought he felt it too. But the shared moment was shattered by the telephone ringing.

He jumped and looked around wildly. “What’s that?”

“Nothing, it’s just the phone. Don’t worry.”

Buffy used her slayer speed to get the phone before it could ring again. “Hello?”

“Hi Buffy,” Willow greeted casually.

“Willow! How are you? I was just thinking about calling you. What’s up?”

“I’m fine. I just called to ask how you’re doing.”

“Oh, great. Why do you ask?”

“Well, after the other night, I wanted to make sure that you were feeling better.”

“I feel fine,” Buffy assured her. “It was just temporary insanity. Very temporary.”

“Well, that’s good Buffy. Look, I got to go, but I’ll call you tomorrow, ok?”

“Yeah, I’ll be home. Have a good evening Willow.”

Willow hung up the phone and turned to face Angel. “She didn’t say one word about William. I can’t believe she did this.”

“I can’t believe she hasn’t told anybody.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, Angel. But it just seemed so…well, crazy. I mean, I’m still not sure I believe it.”

“I’ve seen him, and I don’t believe it.”

“I mean, I know she was pretty distraught but I never thought she would take things that far.”

“I don’t think she meant to, Willow. I think she tried to stop Dorjan before he went through with it,” Wesley explained.

“But now she’s got herself in quite a mess.”

Willow nodded, “Yeah I know. So I guess the question is, how do we fix it?”

Chapter 7

“Wait, wait, wait. Buffy tried to raise the dead?” Xander demanded. “Why? How? Why?”

“She wanted to bring Spike back,” Willow repeated for the fifth time.

“But, it’s Spike,” Xander protested. “I mean, just Spike.”

Angel and Willow looked at each other. Was he always this clueless?

“She loved him,” Willow reminded her friend gently. “Still does, I guess.”

“Well, I know she was sad when he died, but I didn’t think…”

“How deep in denial are you?” Angel asked.

Xander shook his head. “So, let me get this straight. She gets it in her mind to bring Spike back, and somehow, ends up with William?”

“Pretty much,” Angel answered.

“What’s she going to do now?”

“Take care of him, by the sounds of it. She insisted on bringing him home with her, and took full responsibility for him. She won’t even let me help,” he explained.

“Why hasn’t she told any of us?”

“I don’t know,” Willow answered. “I called her and gave her a chance to tell me, but she acted as though nothing was wrong.”

“Maybe nothing is wrong,” Wesley suggested.

“No,” Willow contradicted, “This is the definition of wrong. A dead man pulled 120 years in the future? Wrong. Do you have idea what could happen?”

“No.”

Willow sighed. “Like I told Buffy, there are always consequences. Period. I can’t even imagine how this could have disrupted the timeline…”

“It didn’t,” Wesley answered. “I…interrogated…Dorjan until he told me exactly what happened. Somehow, he managed to clone the body, and pull the double into the future.”

“God,” Willow breathed. “That is extremely heavy, dark magic. Forces that I can’t even…Are you sure he’s safe?”

“He’s been taken care of. We won’t need to worry about his further involvement.”

“What do you want us to do, Will?” Xander asked.

“I don’t know yet. I’m going to have to do some research, call the Coven in England and see if his magic has disrupted anything. I’m going to have to meet William and read his aura…then, well, I’ll know what we have to do.”

“What are some possibilities?” Angel asked.

She shrugged. “It depends on what we find. It’s possible we won’t have to do anything at all. It’s possible that if there is a problem, it’ll correct itself on its own. Or it’s possible that we’ll have to step in and…remove the problem ourselves.”

~*~

After Willow called, Buffy’s good mood was ruined. William didn’t push her, but was disconcerted by her silence. He didn’t know what to do with himself. Was he welcome in the kitchen and front room with her, or would it be better for him to take his leave? He found himself at a complete loss, ignorant of what etiquette dictated in such a situation.

It didn’t matter though. He doubted he had the ability to walk the short distance from the table to his bed. It wasn’t exactly a lie when he told Buffy he felt better. At the time, he had been feeling better. Though, tripping on the sheet was a falsehood. He didn’t trip at all, just lost his ability to stand for more than a few seconds. But it was far too embarrassing to admit that he had practically fainted. Somehow, being a “spaz” as she called it seemed not so bad.

He watched her wash the dishes. She was muttering curses under her breath directed to what he could only assume was the strange, ringing machine. She looked angry, and it took William’s breath away. She moved and acted as though he wasn’t in the same room, her face flushed, her eyes bright and darting about the room, her hands working animatedly.

“Aren’t I allowed to make mistakes?” She demanded suddenly.

“Um, well…”

She didn’t wait for an answer, instead, plunged ahead into her rant. “I know what they’re doing. Does she think I don’t know? Are they the only ones allowed to make mistakes? Are they the only ones allowed to mess up? What? I’m supposed to be perfect?”

“No,” he offered softly.

“What gets me is that they had to find out somehow. Which means Angel has been talking. So much for his promises huh? I should have known better by now. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me two million times, shame on me.” She sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m over-reacting.”

William remained silent, unable to think of a way to respond. She didn’t appear to notice.

“Do you want some ice cream?” She asked, finally focusing all of her attention onto him.

“Yes, that sounds delightful.”

“Well, you can have Dawn’s. That’s what she gets for having a life.”

William frowned, not knowing what to make of that comment. She handed him a small, colorful container and a spoon. “Dig in.”

The first bite was surprisingly cold and painfully sweet. But delicious. “What is this?”

“Double chocolate chip fudge. Too sweet for me, but Dawn loves it.”

“It’s…something else. I don’t think I’ve ever had anything like this before.”

She laughed and took a bite from her own carton. “Oh good, I’ll get to introduce you to the joys of ice cream. Don’t let them fool you, there are more than 31 flavors.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” Around another bite of ice cream. He dug in merrily, thrilled over the taste and texture and temperature and the way it glided down his throat.

Buffy watched him with a smile. Her own dessert tasted better after watching him. Come to think of it, dinner tasted better too. But after a few minutes of heartily stuffing his face, she grew somewhat alarmed.

“Um, William, you better slow down, or you’re going to get….”

“Ohhhhh, my head.”

“A headache.”

“What just happened? Oh, this is awful.”

She nodded sympathetically. “It’s a brain freeze. Give it a few minutes, and you’ll feel better. But you have to put away the ice cream.”

He winced and handed over his ice cream begrudgingly. He closed his eyes and allowed a few moments to pass while she put the melting dessert away and finished tidying up the kitchen.

“Are you ok?” He asked without opening his eyes.

“Me? I’m not the one with the splitting headache.”

“You seemed upset earlier,” he explained.

“Right, well, it was nothing a little ice cream couldn’t fix. See? All better now.” She plastered a very large, very fake smile on her face.

“If you don’t want to tell me, I understand.”

“No, no, it’s not that. I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to tell you, it’s just that I…”

“Can’t?”

“Don’t know how. I figured I’d introduce you to my life slowly…things can be a bit crazy around here.”

“I can handle it,” William insisted.

She laughed bitterly. “That’s what they all say.”

“Is there anything left that can surprise me?”

Before Buffy could answer, William silently clutched his head then fell off of the chair.

Buffy rushed to his side. “William?” She turned him over onto his back, alarmed at the waxen color of his skin. “Oh god, what’s wrong?”

She calmly felt for a bump on his head, looking for blood, called his name, did everything she could think to do in the case of a head injury. She couldn’t find anything physically wrong.

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. “What happened?”

“You fainted. William, has this happened before?”

He nodded slightly. “Earlier today, when I fell…”

“Any other time?”

“While I was working, I fell asleep a few times.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t wish to alarm you. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing if you keep passing out. How else do you feel?”

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

He nodded. “I can assure you that other than the odd fainting spell, I’m fine.”

“Do you feel light headed?”

“Well, yes,” he admitted, “but not all the time.”

Buffy worried her bottom lip, trying to figure out what to do next. Her intial reaction was to call Angel again, and get a hold of Dr. Roberts, but after the phone call from Willow, she didn’t know how much she could trust him. She could just take him to the clinic, but how would she explain the large bit on his neck…that was currently bleeding all over the floor.

“Shit,” she muttered. “Shit, shit, shit. You’re bleeding again.” She grabbed a kitchen towel, and held it against his neck, applying as much pressure as she could to stop the bleeding.

“I’ll have to call Wesley,” she finally said when the bleeding and all but ceased. “At least he won’t be all judgmental…”

~*~

Willow couldn’t help feeling resentful. She wasn’t just the magic girl anymore. She wasn’t The Big Gun anymore. She wasn’t the geeky girl who squealed over research parties. Buffy wasn’t the only one who had found a new place in life, a new reason for living.

Her whole life it seemed she had been looking for something great, and now she just wanted something normal. Something quiet. A small apartment, a small college, a warm lover to come home to every night. It wasn’t so much to ask for, and the strong, aching hold of magic was lessening each day. She could feel it slip away from her, and she didn’t fight it.

When she stood at the crossroads of her new life the year before, she honestly believed she would always be in the business of saving the world. Kennedy was a Slayer; there was a whole world of slayers waiting for guidance. All she had to do was find them. But then she decided to take a year off to finish school, and before she knew it, she was caught up in the whirlwind of mundane normalcy.

But the misery of it was that it never slipped away. The magic, the geek, the research, the old life, it was all there, calling to her. She could repress and deny, but at her heart, she couldn’t resist the thrilling call of the fight, the kill. She hadn’t been born with the instinct, but she had created one and nurtured it until it matched Kennedy’s ferocity.

And so the resentment festered, because it was hard to deny it when she was on the hunt. She stacked the dusty tomes in front of her, armed herself with her favorite pens and highlighters, and had her bag of chips resting next to the Diet Coke comfortably. She was finished with school, had a vacation stretching ahead of her, and a mystery to solve. The smell of musty leather was heady and intoxicating, the allure of faded ink undeniable.

Beneath the festering resentment and the general excitement was inexplicable hurt. Buffy had attempted to raise the dead, even after she was explicitly warned not to. Did Buffy think so little of Willow now that she could just blithely ignore her warnings? It’s true that they had slowly been growing apart, but she thought there was always a level of respect between the two of them. Enough respect that when Willow said “don’t do this incredibly dangerous thing,” Buffy would listen.

But then, it’s true that Buffy never listened to anybody. Buffy considered herself the big Boss, and though she was no longer the slayer, some things never change. Apparently, she considered herself the boss over the mystical domain as well.

~*~

When Wes showed up at Buffy’s apartment, he didn’t bother to ask why she called him and not Angel. He just accepted that Buffy didn’t want to get into a fight with her ex-lover and asked her what the problem was.

She silently led him to William, sleeping on the bed, breathing shallowly.

“How long has been bleeding?”

“About 45 minutes. It was worse before I called you.”

“Any other problems?”

“He said he’s been feeling light headed, and fainted a few times.”

Wesley carefully moved the bandage on William’s neck and examined the wound. He was surprised. If anything it looked worse than before. “This isn’t right,” he murmured beneath his breath.

“Does he need a doctor?”

“I don’t know if a doctor will be able to help him,” he answered honestly. “The bite isn’t infected, it just isn’t healing.”

“Why not?” Buffy demanded.

“I don’t know, Buffy. It could be that William is anemic; it could be because the magic destroyed the make-up of his body, it could simply be the magic itself won’t let him heal. Working with those types of forces is hardly full-proof.”

“So what are you telling me? That he’s just going to get worse?”

“Possibly.”

“You don’t know anyone who could help him?”

Wes could see that Buffy was growing desperate. Desperate to save William? Perhaps because she couldn’t save Spike. Or maybe because she felt that his life was her responsibility. Or maybe it was just the natural Slayer instinct that made her strive to protect the world, and its people, and at all costs. At any rate, Wes didn’t want to disappoint her. There was still a feeling of failure where the Slayers were concerned. He had messed up and lost them both, and though he understood what happened wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t help but feel responsible. Maybe be helping her, he could redeem himself as a Watcher-even if there was nobody left alive to care anymore.

“I may know someone. I have to do some research, call a few people…”

“Will you, please?”

He nodded. “I’ll keep you updated. In the meantime, keep his neck clean and covered, make sure he gets enough food and stays hydrated. Don’t let him out of bed.”

“Ok.”

Wes turned to leave the room, but Buffy grabbed his arm. “Don’t tell Angel, k?”

“Any reason why not?”

Buffy shrugged in response.

“Buffy, you need to know that they all know about William. Including Xander.”

She nodded, “I figured as much when Willow called. Angel told them?”

“Yes.”

“They’re angry now?”

“Yes.”

“Of course they are. Buffy isn’t allowed to make mistakes. Ever.”

He smiled apologetically. “Sorry.”

“I guess I’ll deal with them soon. Try to explain everything to them…”

Wes could tell she wasn’t excited about the prospect. Honestly, he wouldn’t be either.

“Call me if anything changes.”

“Will do.”

Buffy showed Wes out, then finished cleaning up the kitchen, and mopped the blood off the floor. Fear was a hard lump in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t want him to die, she didn’t want him to be sick, she didn’t want to be part of this mess. Why couldn’t everybody just be healthy and happy?

That night, she tried to sleep but she couldn’t. All she could think about was Spike sending her away, William bleeding in her bedroom, and the fear that she was about to lose someone who was quickly becoming a dear friend.

Chapter 8

“But I told you yesterday I couldn’t come in,” Buffy protested. “You said it would be alright.” Pause. “Yes, I understand, but I have a family emergency here and I can’t…” Long pause. “Fine, I’ll be there in 30 minutes.”

“What was that all about?” Dawn asked.

“There was a scheduling mix-up and they need me to come in.”

“What about William?”

“I’m going to need you to stick around today and keep an eye on him.”

“I had plans.”

“I’m sorry Dawn, but I have to go in. He basically said if I like my job, I’ll be there by nine.”

“What time do you think you’ll be back?”

“He said I can come home when Carla shows up, around 2.”

Dawn nodded, “That’s fine. I don’t need to be at Susan’s until 5.”

“Well, I’m so happy that I was able to work around your schedule. Anyway, if you anything…bad…happens, call me. Check his bandage on a regular basis, and make sure you feed him a decent lunch.”

“I think I can handle it Buffy.”

“Right, of course you can. I’m gonna check on him before I go. I don’t have time to cook him breakfast so…”

“I’ll get started on it.”

Buffy smiled thankfully at her sister. After the initial shocked and angered reaction, Dawn had calmed down and accepted that William was now a part of their life. Buffy didn’t know what she would do without Dawn’s help and support. Life would be a lot more difficult if Dawn had simply decided she would have no part of her sister’s insanity.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” William said as a greeting when Buffy entered the room.

She frowned. “You’re not a burden.”

“I heard you arguing with your sister…”

“We weren’t arguing about you, William. It’s not your fault my boss sucks.”

“You work?”

“I have to.”

“What do you do? Sew? Are you a Governess?”

“Try none of the above. I work in a customer service center.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Basically if someone has a problem, they call and yell at me until they feel better.”

“It sounds dreadful.”

“It is, but it pays the bills until I can get a degree.”

“Oh! You’re going to school? Will you be teaching soon?”

Buffy laughed. “No, no, not going to be a teacher. Women have more choices now. I can do whatever I want.”

“That sounds quite…progressive.”

“A lot of things have changed. At any rate, I’ll be back this afternoon, maybe in time for lunch. If you need any thing, don’t hesitate to ask Dawn. She’ll take care of you.”

“Thank you.”

Unable to loiter any longer, she gave him a final wave, then gathered up her purse and her keys.

“What are you making him?”

“French toast.”

“Give him some soup if he gets hungry again.”

“Buffy, how long have you been a nurse?”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

Dawn practically had to push her sister out the door. She wanted to make sure the French toast was good enough, wanted to check on William one more time, wanted to grab more coffee, wanted to call Wes. Rolling her eyes, Dawn shut the door behind Buffy and locked it.

The air was tinged with the slight smell of burning bread, and Dawn quickly flipped the now dark brown toast onto a plate. She grimaced that the nearly black center, and debated over whether or not she should feed it to William or start a new batch. She finally decided that if she smothered it with butter and syrup, he probably wouldn’t notice anyway. Besides, he was hardly in the situation to be picky.

She balanced the plate and a large glass of orange juice on a tray and carried it to him. Buffy would laugh her ass off if she saw Dawn meekly carrying food to someone else. “French toast ala Dawn,” she announced.

“It smells wonderful.”

“Yeah, well, good. It’s supposed to smell like that. Hope it’s enough.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will be.”

Dawn positioned the tray on his lap and plopped down on the nearby chair. She watched him gingerly eat for several seconds before growing bored.

“You don’t like it?”

“No, no it’s delicious. I’m just not that hungry.”

“Because of your neck?”

“I have a headache.”

“The food will help you feel better, supposedly. But if you think you’re going to vomit, aim for the can.” She beckoned to the small, plastic wastebasket on the side of the bed.

“Oh…thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“So, what do you think of the future so far?”

“It would be a great deal more enjoyable if I wasn’t feeling so ill. I would like to leave the bedroom and see this new world.”

“I’ll take you out and show you around when you’re better,” Dawn promised.

He handed his empty plate to her. “Thank you.”

“Still hungry?”

“No, no, that was quite filling, thank you.”

They lapsed into silence, Dawn holding the syrup-covered plate. She didn’t know what to say to him, but she didn’t want to leave either. She didn’t want to make him talk, but she didn’t want to bore him by making him listen to her talk. He didn’t seem uncomfortable with her though, or impatient for her to leave. Maybe he wanted a bit of company.

“How old are you?” She finally asked, out of a long held curiosity. Spike never would tell her how old he was when he was turned, out of a misplaced sense of vanity she always thought.

“26.”

“Did you have any sisters?” Another question that she always longed to ask, but never did.

“No, it was just me and mother.”

“Am I bothering you with my questions?”

He smiled. “I don’t mind them.”

Dawn felt her way around him carefully for the next hour, prying into the corners of his life, developing a broader picture of who he was. So much surprising information to sort through, and comprehend. And yet, it wasn’t surprising at all. Finding out through careful questioning that he was extremely lonely and without really any friends at all was not surprising. Spike always liked to be surrounded by people, and yet, he was always by himself.

It did not take much persuasion to open William up, and soon he was telling her a great deal about his life. He still spoke with a rather reserved quality, and chose his words carefully, but it was clear that he was happy to share. Dawn wondered if anybody had bothered to ask before.

“You were close to him, weren’t you?” William eventually asked.

“Who?”

“Spike.”

“Buffy tell you about Spike?”

“Briefly.”

“Yes, we were once close. We grew apart.”

“Do you mind if I ask what happened?”

“Just some bad choices. Too many bad choices between us.”

William smiled shyly, his gaze earnest and sincere. “I hope we can become friends.”

Dawn returned the smile. “I think we will.”

~*~

Wes locked himself in his office and made it absolutely clear that he was not to be disturbed, by anybody. He told Angel that he was working on a new case of Glorsnick demons terrorizing Hollywood, trying to figure out where they came from and how to kill them. This wasn’t entirely a lie. There were Glorsnick demons in Hollywood, and he was trying to figure out how to kill them-they just weren’t his top priority.

William’s mysterious appearance, and even more mysterious malady was something Wes could really sink his teeth into. He loved a mystery, and loved having the resources at his fingertip to solve it.

His first action was to talk to Dorjan again. He was being safely held in an anti-magic chamber below the building. Up until now, he hadn’t put up much of a fight. He was too drained from the spell he foolishly performed. Unfortunately, Wes couldn’t get much out of the weakened sorcerer. It seemed that Dorjan didn’t really know what he did, or why it worked. All he could say was that he found the exact book in the library, and the window of opportunity was too small to hesitate.

That didn’t explain why Dorjan was compelled to perform the spell though. Wesley would have loved to look at the book himself, but it had disappeared. Nobody remembered seeing it in the room that night, and Dorjan certainly didn’t have it on him.

Curiouser and curioser.

The more Wes investigated, the more convinced he became that Dorjan had very little to do with William’s sudden appearance. If anything, Dorjan was acting as an unknowing vessel. Wes’s first hunch had been that he had been unable to resist doing the spell because of the rush it would cause, but now Wes suspected that Dorjan was forced to do the spell because he was the only one who could handle the influx of power.

So the question became who and why? Wes was used to working with things that were out of his hands, out of the realms of logic, and into the realms of mystical prophecies and fickle Powers. But usually, there was some sort of justification for the interference of some higher being. Evil always had a plan, and sooner or later, it would become clear. Of course, Wesley didn’t completely close the door on the idea that Dorjan wasn’t serving a source of evil, but rather, was the unwitting agent of Good. A thought that honestly was no less frightening.

Just to be on the safe side, Wesley poured over the prophecies housed in the law firm’s rather extensive library. He found a few interesting leads, but they were ultimately dead ends. There were very few passages that referred to their particular place and time, and virtually none that could be applicable to William’s situation.

When he waded through the well used and accepted book of prophecies, he moved into the totally obscure, and often wrong, texts. The prophecies in those books were nearly worthless anyway; the phrasing was far, far too ambiguous. But those obscure prophecies did often have a list of references in the back to other magical texts, thoughtfully provided by the poor saps that spend their entire lives trying to make sense of the pointless ramblings.

It was in the small text on the darkest arts that Wes got his first clue. One born of magic will need the strength of many to be sustained. That was all. It wasn’t much, but it was a start, and Wes felt in his gut that the passage applied to William.

~*~

Angel offered to let Willow use his rather extensive library to research, but she declined. She preferred to start with the Internet. It wasn’t as reliable as old books, but it was easier on the eyes, faster to search, and sometimes she found a few gems. Also, she could search from home. Which was good, because she did like to spend as much time with Kennedy as possible. Even if she wasn’t exactly spending time with her.

Willow diligently scanned through websites, message boards, and articles. She noted with some interest that there would be a few “conventions” over the summer, sponsored by various covens. It would be cool to hook up with some other witches and exchange spells…but that was neither here nor there and Willow quickly forced herself to get back on track.

The hours passed quickly, and before she knew it, it was already time for dinner. Kennedy silently left a plate of sandwiches on the desk for her at some point, and Willow smiled at the thoughtfulness. Kennedy did her best to be everything that Willow needed, going out of her way to be considerate and even more docile. Willow appreciated the effort, but in her heart of hearts, she didn’t believe that the relationship would last much longer. Already they were growing distant.

So lost in thought about her relationship, she almost completely missed the crucial passage. One born of magic will need the life of many to be sustained. Willow sat back, frowning. There was no doubt that the passage could be applied to William. He literally existed because of magic. The life of many? Did that mean that people would have to die in order for him to live? What happened if nobody was sacrificed for him? Would he die quickly, or would he waste away slowly?

She would have to call Angel and get his opinion before she researched anymore. Willow suspected it might be kinder all around to…well…she couldn’t finish the thought. She would call Angel. She would have no problem leaving that sort of decision to him.

~*~

When Buffy finally got home, a full two hours after she was supposed to be let off, she was surprised to see Dawn and William sitting in the living room on the couch, quietly watching television.

“Hey Buffy. You’re late,” Dawn greeted.

“I know, I know. Somebody quit today, so we were extremely short-handed. What’s up?”

“Nothing, we’re just watching the History Channel. William wanted to know what me missed.”

“Hello, Buffy. Would you like to join us?”

“No, I think I’m going to shower and change. You sticking around Dawn?”

“I have to go in about 30 minutes.”

“Will you start dinner?”

“No problem.” Within a minute, Dawn was loudly sorting through the fridge looking for something edible.

“William, are you feeling better? How is your neck?”

“I feel much better today.”

“Did Dawn bother you?”

“No, Dawn was great company. Here, sit with me.”

Buffy thought about resisting for a second time, but decided that it wouldn’t kill her to watch…. “What are you watching?”

“I believe Dawn said it was Histories Mysteries. Something about Zombies and voodoo.”

Buffy lifted her eyebrow, “Why are you watching this garbage?”

“Oh, no, it’s quite interesting. See, there’s this fish…”

“That’s ok, you don’t need to explain it to me. I believe you.”

“The television is quite marvelous. I could spend all day watching it.”

“And have,” Buffy muttered beneath her breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. I’m glad you found something to entertain yourself.”

“You must watch the next program with me. Dawn says it’s on the Discovery Channel. It’s called the Real Journey to the Center of the Earth.”

“What is it about?”

“Have you ever read the book by Jules Verne?”

“I’ve heard of it.”

“Well, this documentary contrasts what the real center of the Earth is compared to what Verne wrote. I’m very excited about it.”

That much was obvious. His blue eyes were positively dancing, his face slightly flushed. Buffy noted idly that his mop of curly hair needed to be combed, the crazy curls bobbing back and forth as he spoke.

“Sure, I’d love to watch it with you.” It wasn’t something Buffy would be remotely interested in on her own, but she didn’t think it would be too much to watch the show with him. It was obvious that he wanted to share this with somebody…with her.

To Buffy’s surprise, the documentary was actually quite interesting-if a little long. A few times, William expressed surprise, and even utter shock, at the facts revealed on the show. Buffy was enjoying herself so much that she completely forgot about the meal Dawn prepared, and only spared her a glance when she rushed out the door. Who knew that the Discovery Channel could be so interesting?

“You really must read the book,” William commented when the show ended.

“I’m not a big reader,” Buffy admitted.

“Can you get a copy?”

“I could probably go to the library tomorrow. It should be open in the afternoon.”

“Would you like if I read it to you?”

“I’ve never had anybody offer to read to me before.”

“Really? I used to read to my mother all of the time. I enjoy it quite a bit.”

“That’ll be nice. I’ll get the book tomorrow,” she promised. “Oooh, Scooby Doo is on.”

“What’s that?”

“My favorite cartoon. I think you’ll like it.”

Buffy shifted on the couch and leaned against his arm slightly. He didn’t pull away. Buffy couldn’t get over how cozy it felt with him. Even if they were just watching tv, it was the nicest thing Buffy had done for a long time.

Chapter 9

“Did you talk to her?” Willow asked when Angel returned to the car.

“I did.”

“And?”

“She said that he’s slightly better now, but still bleeding.”

“Did you ask her when she’s actually going to tell us?”

“I told her it would be a good idea to talk to you guys soon, but she seemed pretty hesitant.”

“Did you get a chance to talk to William?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“He’s normal, I guess. Pretty quiet and bashful though. He seemed to be pretty happy just watching TV with Dawn.”

“Ok, so he’s not brain damaged or some sort of monster?”

“You were expecting him to be?”

Willow shrugged. “I can’t find very much reliable information about him. I didn’t really know what to expect.”

“Would it make things easier if he was brain damaged?”

She sighed, “I don’t even know if there is a problem yet. I mean, I know what I found, but it was still pretty vague.”

“You better figure it out quick, Willow. The longer he’s here, the harder it will be to take the necessary precautions.”

Angel put the car into drive and they headed out silently. Both lost in thought, concerns and doubts weighing heavily on their minds.

“What’s the worse can scenario?” Angel finally asked.

“He starts killing people. Or we have to start killing people for him.”

“Do you think that will happen?”

“I don’t know, Angel. It would be much better if I could see him, study him.”

Without a word, Angel slammed on the breaks and flipped a U-turn.

“What the hell was that?” Willow demanded once she caught her breath.

“This isn’t a game. You need to see him. If Buffy doesn’t like it, well, too bad.”

Willow settled into her seat, suddenly nervous. She didn’t like to put Buffy on the spot, because she was unpredictable in those situations. But there was no sense in putting off the inevitable, and honestly, it was nice placing the decision in Angel’s hands.

They were back to the apartment complex within minutes. As soon as Angel parked, Willow jumped out the door and headed up the stairs. Taking a deep breath and not giving it too much thought, she knocked on the door.

Dawn answered.

“Oh, hi Willow! What’s up?”

”I came by to see Buffy. Is she home?”

“Um, yeah. Come on in.”

Willow expected to see William in the living room or the kitchen, but was disappointed. She did see Buffy however, munching on a carrot and reading a magazine at the kitchen table.

“Hey, Wills, what’s up?”

“We need to talk.”

The bright, fake smile left Buffy’s face. “Yeah, I know we do. Did Angel tell you?”

“He did. Buffy, why didn’t you?”

She threw her hands up helplessly, “I don’t know. I didn’t know how. I mean, how do you explain something like that?”

“I just don’t understand, Buffy. I mean, how could you? You of all people should know better.”

“I know. It was a mistake.”

“A mistake? Like an accident? How do you accidentally bring someone back from the dead?”

“It wasn’t…I didn’t bring him back from the dead, and I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“What did you mean to happen?”

“Nothing! It was all a…misunderstanding.”

Willow rubbed her eyes. “Buffy, you messed with forces that you can’t even comprehend. I’ve been trying to figure out what the consequences could be, but I’ve been coming up empty.”

Buffy didn’t respond, rather shifted her attention back to the magazine.

“Are you ignoring me again?”

“What?” Buffy asked. “I’m not ignoring you.”

“Whatever. Can I meet him?”

“Maybe, if he feels up to it. He hasn’t been feeling good lately.”

“I feel quite well, thank you.”

Both girls turned around, and saw William’s smiling, if rather wan, face. “I thought you were resting,” Buffy said.

“I was, but I heard voices and thought I would come out and greet our visitor.” He turned his attention to Willow. “Good evening, Ms…?”

“Rosen…Rosenburg.” Willow stammered, completely unprepared for actually meeting William. She didn’t know what she expected, but it wasn’t this quiet, unassuming man standing before her.

“Ms. Rosenburg. How are you?”

“Oh, oh, please call me Willow. And I’m fine. I’m better than fine. The day is beautiful, don’t you think. I saw a humming bird outside and I…um…I mean, how are you doing?”

Ok, Buffy thought, when was the last time Willow babbled like a fool?

“I’m good, thank you for asking.”

Buffy stood up and silently offered her chair to William. He took it with a grateful smile, and Willow mentally noted that they seemed very comfortable with each other.

“So,” Willow asked awkwardly, “How’s the 21 ^{st century treating you?”}

“It’s been a very enlightening and entertaining. For example, did you know there’s a fish that…”

“We don’t need to hear the fish story again,” Buffy cut him off dryly, but not rudely. William didn’t seem to mind, just laughed softly.

“Anyhow,” he continued, “it’s an exciting experience.”

“That’s good. I’m glad that you are adjusting so well.”

“Yes, well, I didn’t have much of a choice.”

Buffy silently sat a glass of lemonade in front of him, and he accepted with a polite nod. Again, the comfort level was markedly high.

“Willow, would you like to stay for dinner?” Buffy invited.

“I can’t,” Willow said, with genuine regret. “Kennedy is expecting me soon.”

She excused herself, and promised that she would call soon. William expressed interest in seeing her again, explaining that he had many things he would like to talk about and Dawn and told him that Willow was “the smart one”.

Angel took her home, and they both remained silent. Meeting William weighed heavily on her mind, and suddenly the thought of what they may have to do was absolutely sickening. There had to be another way. She would try harder.

~*~

Despite Willow’s apparent acceptance of William, she was still in a poor mood when Willow finally left. Both William and Dawn knew better than to bother her when she was in that type of move, and so the house was silent nearly all night.

“Dawn,” Buffy said, finally breaking the long silence. “You should go to bed. You still have school.”

“It’s only ten,” Dawn protested. “I’m not 12.”

“I know you are not 12. Just go to your room, ok? I don’t care if you sleep.”

Dawn wasn’t in the mood to fight with her sister, so she just flounced out of the room indignantly.

“Are you staying up?” Buffy asked William.

“I thought we could start on the book…”

“Not tonight. I’m tired.”

“That’s fine, Buffy. I’ll retire to my bedroom now. Oh, Buffy, I was thinking…”

“Yes?”

“There’s really no reason for me to stay in the bedroom anymore. I can easily sleep on the couch.”

“No, William, you’re still sick. And my guest. I’m fine out here.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Look, if you want, we can talk about this later…after you’re stronger.”

“I will hold you to that.”

As soon as William went to his room, Buffy collapsed on the couch. The visit from Angel, the fight with Willow, and really the whole week had completely worn her out. She was working a full ten hour shift the next day, and she was not looking forward to it at all.

It would also be William’s first day completely on his own, and the thought made her nervous. What if he passed out again? What if he started bleeding again? What if he didn’t have enough strength to get his meals? She sighed. He was an adult, he could take care of himself. Hopefully.

All of this worrying about William brought back ugly memories of her mother’s illness, and later, Spike’s torture. She took their well beings on her shoulders, as well as the safety of Dawn, and her friends, and her entire world, and she just wasn’t that confident in her abilities.

She hadn’t thought about Joyce in a long time. The paid had eventually dulled, and then disappeared, and Joyce’s memory lurked in the corners of her subconscious. It seemed that her mother was always around, just a part of her life, and that made it easier to live without her. But now she couldn’t help thinking of the tests, the hospital, the pain, the pills, the careful instructions from the doctors, the fear that permeated the entire house until it suffocated them.

Buffy knew that her mother would like William. She would be thrilled with William, in fact. They would have a lot in common, Buffy figured. They both were smart. They both liked art. Joyce liked Spike anyway. And there was no doubt that William would adore Joyce, for the same reason Spike did. She was a strong, independent, intelligent, mother figure. Just what he needed. Spike liked strong women.

The more time she spent with William, the more she was able to completely separate him from Spike’s memory. There were similarities, to be sure. The way he pronounced certain words, the way he tilted his head, the way his eyes sparkled, random mannerisms and general impressions. She recognized the eager way he looked at her, and the almost hungry way he gazed at her. She was familiar with the poet that lurked just beneath Spike’s hard veneer, and she knew his soul. But there was much more to William than what he shared with Spike.

Somehow, in the depths of the night, the thought depressed her. She enjoyed William’s company, and each day she felt herself growing closer to him. But he wasn’t Spike. Having William around just reminded her that Spike was gone.

With these troubling thoughts, she finally fell into a restless sleep and tumbled into horrible dreams.

“Mommy? Mommy?” She didn’t respond, no matter how many times Buffy called her name. She just stared sightlessly at the ceiling, unmoving. “Mommy? What’s wrong? What are you doing?”

Buffy woke up with a cry, tears already falling down her cheeks. Oh God, oh god, was that a Slayer dream? What did it mean? No, it couldn’t be a Slayer dream. No, no, it was just a bad dream. A nightmare.

“What’s going on?” William demanded in the darkness. “Are you ok? I heard you, and I came in…”

A strangled sob escaped Buffy’s throat. She didn’t know what the dream meant, but it had frightened her at a very base level, and though she knew the inky blackness of night intimately, it didn’t stop her from being afraid.

William kneeled beside the couch. “Buffy? Buffy, pet, what’s wrong?”

Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Startled, he tried to pull back, but she wouldn’t let him go. She needed physical contact, needed an anchor to the world until the sun came back. He relaxed and wrapped his arms around her, and slowly the tension left her muscles.

William held her and gently stroked her hair until the tears slowed and dried. He meant to ask her again what had upset her, but he didn’t want to break the comforting silence. He inhaled softly, thrilled by the feel and scent of her. She was soft and warm. He had never, ever been this close to a woman.

He was mortified to feel himself growing hard, and he closed his eyes and did his best to will it away. It didn’t work. He waited desperately for her to fall asleep so he could escape, but the last thing he wanted to do was release her sweet body.

When she finally did fall asleep, he still didn’t let her go, though his knees were screaming in protest and he was still straining uncomfortably against his paints. Finally, he was forced to lay her carefully on the couch and untangle her arms from his neck. She stirred slightly, but otherwise, continued to sleep peacefully. With a sigh of relief, he hurried back to his own room.

He lay stiffly on his bed, his legs straight, his arms tense at his side. He was forced to free his hard member, and instantly sighed in relief when it sprung loose of his pants. He had touched himself before, tentatively, with extreme caution and fear, but not often. Only when it was absolutely, positively necessary, and even then he hated to do it. All he could think of was the disapproving glares of his minister and his mother.

But they were the very last things on his mind now. Nothing could have been farther. The only thing he could think of was the slightly sweet, slightly salty way Buffy smelled when she pressed her body against his. All he could think of was the feel of her soft, unsupported breasts against her check. The texture of her long hair that wound around his hand.

The more he thought of her, the harder he stroked himself. Soon he was picturing her naked. Despite the mingling feelings of embarrassment, humiliation, and wrongness, he couldn’t stop his over-reactive imagination. He imagined licking her salty skin, tracing her breasts with his lips, kissing her stomach and thighs. He thought about touching her in her softest, secret places, murmuring her name as he explores her body, studying her like a map to buried treasure.

He envisioned finally entering her, taking her, making her his. He knew only that it would make him feel powerful, but not what it would feel like to be inside of her. That didn’t matter though. Just the thought of doing something so wicked, yet so delicious was enough to send him spinning over the edge.

He cleaned the mess up desperately, exhausted and yet exhilarated. He knew it was wrong to think about her like that, but he could not deny how much he wanted her.

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