CHAPTER 169 – CLARITY OF PURPOSE

NOVEMBER 18, 2009
TUESDAY
12:30AM

William picked up the bottle, then put it down again. All night he’d been trying to resist, knowing he’d done enough drinking in the past few days, to last for quite a while. At least, it felt like it should. However, the abrupt lack of alcohol was now leaving him feeling shaky and disoriented.

“Bugger this,” he mumbled, as he gave in and poured himself a shot. Downing it in one gulp, the relief was short lived, as a severe burning sensation in his stomach nearly doubled him over. He banged the glass down on the edge of the counter, and missed.

Ignoring the shattered glass, he frantically yanked open the refrigerator door, and grabbed an open pint of half-and-half, and drank it down from the carton. He gritted his teeth, nearly gagging on the taste of the almost spoilt milk, but his stomach felt better.

Miranda turned upon hearing the breaking glass, as did most of those at the bar. She turned to look at the man standing in front of her, and he nodded to the bottle of beer she’d been holding in her hand. “Oh yeah. Sorry, here you go,” she said, distractedly.

William was squatted down, cleaning up the glass when she walked up behind him.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Spike?” she persisted.

“It’s nothing, just broke a glass,” he said lightly, looking up at her with bloodshot blue eyes.

“Yeah sure, and that just happens to be the third nothing you’ve broken tonight.”

William stood up in a quick movement, causing Miranda to move back. Angrily, he stared at her, then pulled out his wallet and put a ten-dollar bill in the cash register. “There, that’ll pay for your bloody glasses.”

Eyes narrowing, she met his stare. “I’m not worried about the fucking glasses, you big jerk. I’m worried about you!”

“Sorry,” he said, after a moment. “It’s just a bad night, is all.”

“You know, you’re really so damned cliche. Then again, it’s almost Zen like, if you think about it. Man works at bar, man becomes one with bar.”

“Miranda, what in God’s name are you talking about?” he asked, turning to face her.

“Want me spell it out for you?”

“Only if it’ll keep you from prattling on in some sort of secret female code,” he shot back, frustrated.

“Okay, how’s this? You’re a drunk, Spike. A drunk working at a bar.”

He turned, slamming the palms of his hands on the edge of the counter. “I’m not a drunk,” he said, through clenched teeth. William could feel the muscles in his back and arms twitching, much like they did right before fighting demons. He rolled his head and felt the satisfying cracking of his neck’s vertebrae.

“No? Well, you’re either doing a really good impression of one, or you’re this close to becoming one,” she said, holding up her fingers an inch apart.

“I’m not, I’ve just been...I’m not!”

Miranda looked at him, until he looked away. Putting her hand on his arm, she asked, “How long has it been since you’ve eaten something?” He started to protest, but she stopped him. “I mean really eaten a half-way decent meal? Not just a bag of chips or some shitty junk food?”

He looked up at her, his mouth moving as he tried to recall. Finally he shook his head, “I don’t know. But that doesn’t mean I’m a drunk,” he said, straightening up, with as much dignity as he could muster.

“Maybe not, but it sure looks like you don’t give a crap enough about yourself to even eat something! I mean, come on Spike. That’s pretty fucking basic personal maintenance; right after washing oneself,” she said, resisting adding a comment about the none-too-fresh odor he was sporting this evening.

He gave Miranda a hard stare. “You done?” William asked tersely.

“For now,” she returned blithely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2:00AM

He couldn’t take being there anymore. For the past hour and a half, all he’d done was mutter to himself, and try to avoid both Miranda, and taking another drink.

He walked down to her end of the bar, and stood waiting for Miranda to acknowledge his presence. She didn’t. Instead, never breaking stride, she continued to wipe down the latest spill with a bar rag.

William exhaled softly. She wasn’t going to make this any easier.

Finished, she threw the rag underneath the bar. Slowly she looked up at him, as she took the cigarette that hung from her mouth, and ground it out in the nearest ashtray.

“You want something, Spike?”

“Um, yeah. Actually,” he said, clearing his throat. “I was wondering if you’d mind if I knocked off early, seeing it’s rather slow. There’s some things I need to...”

“Go ahead,” she answered a bit too sharply, “Mike and I can close up.”

“Right then,” he said.

William reached for his coat under the bar, hesitating a moment when his hand started to pull the near empty flask out of his pocket. It had been his usual habit to fill it up at the end of his shift. Not tonight, though. Standing up, he slung his coat over his shoulder. With a short nod to Miranda, he left the bar through the door leading to the kitchen and basement.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5:30AM
LOS ANGELES

As if the unintended and very short twilight sleep had cleared his head, William suddenly awoke, with clarity of purpose he hadn’t felt for a long while. He packed up a small bag of his belongings, and headed out, after first leaving a note on the bar for Miranda.

A couple of hours later, with the morning sun now bright in the sky, William turned into the Wittman’s driveway in San Marcos. Wearily, he turned off the engine, laying his head on the steering wheel for a few minutes. Finally, he got out of the car, and grabbed what he’d brought with him from the back seat and went upstairs.

“Home sweet home,” William said softly, as he let himself into his apartment. “More or less.”

Going directly into the bathroom, only stopping long enough to throw his bag onto the bed, he stripped off the clothes he was wearing and got into the shower. It was a small luxury, but feeling the decent water pressure for a change, made him feel better.

William chose a favorite pair of soft gray sweat pants to wear, comforted by the memory that Elizabeth had bought them for him. And disregarding anything black, a long-sleeved, blue T-shirt chosen by her as well, went over his head.

Going out to the kitchen, he looked around for something he could make himself to eat. Holding his breath, he opened the refrigerator, prepared to smell spoiled milk. He let out his breath, curious that there was nothing there except for an old half-gallon of water, and two unopened jars - one of salsa, one of applesauce.

Luckily, he found a can of chicken noodle soup in the cupboard, and warmed it up. To him, the little pan of soup smelled delicious. William spooned half of it into his mouth with a ladle before it even finished cooking, burning his tongue in the process. Finding half a package of unopened, saltine crackers was a bonus. He quickly discovered that the hot salsa alone was too spicy for his stomach, but combined with applesauce, and on a cracker...voila! As far as William was concerned, it was the finest haute cuisine.

He took his meal out to the living room, turning on the radio for company. The strains of a classical piece he hadn't heard for a long time filled the room, making him wistful for the time when he still believed in all the innocence and beauty such music represented. A time before he knew of all the ugly and evil things in the world, things to which he'd become a part.

Sighing heavily, he put down his plate. No use putting off what he'd come back here to do. Going into the bedroom, he knelt down, and pulled a small journal from underneath his bed. Opening it up, he found the little card tucked between the pages.

Taking the card with him into the living room, he located his cell phone, and turned it on.

After dialing a series of numbers, he finally heard a tinny ring on the other end.

"Hello," said the familiar voice.

"Mr. Giles?"

"Yes, who is this?"

“William. William Worthington.”

There was a moment's pause, when William thought that maybe they had been disconnected. "Mr. Giles?"

"Yes, sorry. I'm here,” he heard the other man clearing his throat, "What can I do for you, William?"

"I think...I need your help.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

4:30PM
LONDON

Giles hung up the phone, and reflecting on the last half-hour’s conversation with William. Looking over the notes he’d scribbled as they talked, he took a fresh notebook out of his bottom drawer, and transferred his notes, filling in other things he remembered, as well as questions he wanted to ask William later. On the notebook’s cover, in permanent marker he wrote the words, “William Worthington, 2009 (Formerly William the Bloody, aka Spike”), then put it into his locked file cabinet.

He sat back down at his desk, and pressed the button to the outer office.

“Yes Mr. Giles?” Asked his secretary.

“Get me British Airways.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


8:30AM
JULIAN

The floor no longer seemed so nice, as Buffy awoke, shaking with the chills. She tried to move, but her muscles wouldn’t cooperate. Never in all her days of slaying had she felt so utterly helpless and miserable. Teeth chattering, and tears rolling down her face, she somehow pulled the brown paper wrapping over to her and tried to curl it around her as best she could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

8:30AM
SAN MARCOS

William knew the next thing he had to do, the most important thing, would be even harder than the phone call to Giles had been. Glancing at the clock, he wished he’d come to the decision to go and speak to Elizabeth earlier, that way he could’ve possibly seen her this morning. Still, perhaps it wouldn’t have been such a good idea. He didn’t want to only talk to her for a few minutes, before she had to go off to work. It wouldn’t have been fair to either of them, especially not her; he owed her more than just a few minutes.

Nerves and exhaustion set in, and he decided that the best thing he could for now would be to get some sleep. Going into the bedroom, he set the alarm clock to awaken him a couple of hours before then.

Before crawling under the covers, he reached over and pulled the small box off of his bedside table and opened it up. Wistfully, he looked at Elizabeth’s necklace and ring for a while, his fingers tracing the outline of them. With a sigh, he replaced the lid.

Turning on his side, he pulled her pillow near to him, and was soon asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2:00PM
JULIAN

Buffy didn’t know how much time had passed, only that she had stopped shaking, as her fever had once again risen. Her brain felt like it was baking inside her own skull, and the sun, now steaming into the room, wasn’t helping. Her ears were ringing, too. They’d done that earlier, but she vaguely thought it might be the phone ringing somewhere in the house, and cursed herself for not having thought to bring it upstairs with her.

So much for cell phones being lifesavers.

Water. She needed water. Lifting her head up a little, she saw the half empty bottle that had been under the couch a couple of feet away. The effort made her head pound, but she persevered, and reached for the bottle.

Stale or not, the water tasted wonderful to her parched throat, wet and wonderful. Even though she could’ve drank many times that amount, she made herself stop after drinking only about half. For one thing, if drinking it made her throw up, she wouldn’t have any water left up here at all.

A few minutes later, she rationalized that if it hadn’t made her throw up yet, it wasn’t likely to, and she was so thirsty that drinking the rest was all she’d been thinking about. Also, she rationalized that if the rest made her feel better, she might be able to get to the stairs and at least go down them on her butt.

She reached for the bottle and it tipped over, rolling out of her grasp. William’s picture, which had prevented it from rolling under the couch and to the back wall, was moved just enough to one side, so that the bottle easily kept rolling.

“No, no,” Buffy croaked, trying to reach in time. She sat up, and tried to get to her knees, but she collapsed before she’d even gotten a foot. Hot, angry tears choked her, as she lay back down on the hard floor.

The last thing she remembered was staring at the picture of the cool waters of Clear Lake as she passed out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2:00PM
SAN MARCOS

William opened his eyes as the alarm went off, confused momentarily by his surroundings. As his eyes took in the familiar room, he exhaled and relaxed back against the pillows.

His eyes nervously darted to the clock to check the time. Elizabeth would be home in less than two hours. His heart pounded nervously at the prospect that he was actually going to the house to see her; talk to her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, combing through his hair with a wet comb, William studied himself for a moment. In his head, he heard the words she’d spoken.

“Who are you? I look at you and I don’t see William anymore, and I don’t see Spike! I don’t know what I see anymore.”

William wasn’t sure what or who he saw either; hadn’t for quite some time. That was the problem, and he hoped that the wheels he’d set in motion earlier might somehow be one of the steps to rectifying that; if not, then what was the purpose of his existence?

All William knew, was that he had to see Elizabeth; talk to her, and make some sort of amends for the other night, even if only to give her the opportunity to tell him to bugger off face-to-face, and with him sober. She’d come to Los Angeles to find him. She’d come to him, and all he could do was to throw her feelings back in her face, in every imaginable way; from insulting her, to practically...

He also needed to tell her that he would be going away for a while, for both their sakes. He wondered would she even care at this point, or feel relieved?

Either way, he had to do what he must - to be able to be hers, if she would still have him - to be a man. More importantly, to be his own man for once, if that was even possible. And as to that, William had his serious doubts.

After dressing in a pair of blue jeans and a dark green pullover, he went into the kitchen and turned on a teapot. As he waited for it, he looked in the cabinets for something else to eat. In one of them, near the back, he spotted half a pint of Jack Daniels. He pulled it forward, and put it on the counter. Uncapping it, he poured a healthy shot into the teacup, and lifted it to his mouth, then hesitated at the last moment.

“Oh bugger it!” William said, pouring it out in the sink, instead. The smell of it, washed over him, and he could imagine, even craved, the calming effect it would’ve had on him. Still, he couldn’t chance going to the house not being completely sober. How could he expect Elizabeth to listen to him, if she thought he needed alcohol in order to talk to her?

The time for running away was over.

END CHAPTER 169

CHAPTER 170 - VAMPIRES DON’T WEAR SHORTS...

NOVEMBER 18, 2009
TUESDAY
4:00PM

William slowed the car down as he turned onto the road leading up to the house, fumbling in the glove compartment for the remote. He hit the button as he neared the gate, and it opened. It always struck his as ingenious how it just looked like the road dead-ended in a stand of trees. until they moved, revealing the road beyond.

"This is it," he said, taking a deep breath, as the cabin and her car came into view. He pulled up behind it, and was just getting out, as Clem came hurrying out of the front door. They looked at each other in surprise.

“Spike?”

Hesitantly, William waved to him, as he walked to the porch, feeling guilty for what he perceived to be Clem’s nervousness at seeing him again.

“Hello, Clem. How have you been?” he asked, as he walked up the steps.

"I'm glad you came, maybe you can find her," Clem said, at the exact same time.

William looked at him in confusion, "What are you talking about?"

"Aren’t you here because you talked to Dawn?" Clem asked.

William shook his head. "No, why?"

"Dawn called me a couple of hours ago. School was called off for the rest of the week all over San Diego County because of the flu outbreak, but Buffy was supposed to call Mrs. Carpello today to talk to her, and she never did. She called Dawn to ask if she'd heard from Buffy, because Mrs. Carpello said another teacher said she wasn't feeling well at all when she left yesterday afternoon."

"But her car is here," William said dumbly, looking back at it over his shoulder.

"I know, man. But I've been all over the house, the barn, even the trails, and she's nowhere.”

William brushed past Clem, hurrying into the house. “Elizabeth!” he called out, as he went through all the rooms. At the side of her bed, he saw the bucket, and it’s remains.

“She’s not here, Spike. I’ve been through here twice. She’s just not here.”

William turned to look at him, a combination of intensity and fear in his eyes. Clem backed up.

“She’s sick, Clem. Elizabeth’s here somewhere and she’s sick.”

“How do you...? Oh,” Clem said, screwing up his face as he looked into the bucket.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After checking out the barn and loft for himself, William decided they should hike up the second trail. They ran up the longer trail, both calling her name frequently, then stopping to listen for a reply. As they got to the tree, William turned toward the smaller trail leading to the outlook. Fear coursed through him, as he neared the edge, remembering the dream he’d had.

“Please don’t let her be here,” William whispered a prayer. Forcing himself to disregard his own fear, he walked to the edge and looked over, then got onto his stomach to look underneath the overhang, an area he couldn’t see otherwise. Relief flooded through him.

“She’s not there,” William said, relieved.

They walked further down the trail, until William suddenly stopped, shaking his head. Something was bothering him, and whatever that something was, he was sure it wasn’t out here.

“I’m going to go back to the house.”

“Do you want me to go with you or keep looking?”

“I don’t think she’s here, but if you want you can keep looking.”

“I think I’ll just finish walking the trail. It’s not much farther, and since I’m already here...”

“Okay. I’ll meet you back at the house then,” William said, taking off at a jog in the opposite direction.

William came off the trail, and started towards the house, then changed his mind, and headed towards the barn. He kept looking at the outside of the house, but there was something about the loft that was drawing him there.

“Elizabeth!” He called, immediately heading up the stairs, ignoring the main floor.

Once again, he checked behind and between cartons stored there, behind the workout mats stacked against the walls, and in all the corners.

“Where are you?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of the loft’s window. As he was looking down at the house and yard, his gaze went upward and locked on something. Something he’d seen before, yet hadn’t really seen - the shutters to the annex were all open.

William flew down the stairs and across the yard to the back door. “Elizabeth!” he yelled, running through the house, straight to the spare bedroom, and up the stairs to the annex.

There she was, lying in a fetal position on her side in front of the couch.

“Oh God! Elizabeth!” William said, falling to his knees in front of her. He shook her but got no response, and for a moment he feared she wasn’t alive. Except that her skin was warm. Hot, actually. He felt her pulse, and put his head on her chest. Her heartbeat was fast and thready.

Louder he called to her, shaking her a bit harder. “Elizabeth! Please luv, you have to wake up now. Talk to me!”

Buffy’s eyes fluttered open for just a second, just long enough to see the platinum blonde hair of her beloved, her vampire, her champion. “Spike?” she said weakly.

“That’s right, luv,” he answered, without regard for the name, “I’m here; going to get you all taken care of,” he said, as he picked her up to carry her downstairs. He couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t seem to weigh anything; not that she’d ever weighed much, but it pained him how much thinner she now seemed.

He was laying her down on the bed, just as Clem came in from outside.

“Spike?”

“In the bedroom!”

Clem walked into the bedroom. “I still couldn’t find Buffy, I looked all...” he stopped in the doorway, “Oh! You found her! Where was she?”

“She was in the bloody annex the whole time!” William said, through gritted teeth.

“Oh, man. I’m so sorry. I should’ve thought to look there...”

“It’s not your fault. I didn’t even think of it myself, and I...never mind all that. Bring me the thermometer. I saw it on the bathroom sink.”

Buffy lay on the bed, starting to shiver again. William covered her up.

“Luv, need to take your temperature. Can you put this under your tongue?”

She made a moaning noise, but let him glide it into her mouth.

“What else can I do?” Clem asked.

“Fill up a pan with some cold water, and bring me a washcloth.”

“How cold?”

William looked at him, frustrated. “What? I don’t know. Medium cold!”

“Okay, okay,” Clem muttered, walking off to the kitchen.

“And bring a bottle of water!”

He put his hand on her head, to brush away the hair from her forehead. Her eyes opened, and he was frightened by how helplessly ill she looked. “Gonna be alright, Elizabeth,” he said softly, forcing himself to smile at her.

The thermometer beeped, and he gently slid it from her mouth, just as Clem was just walking back in with a pan from the kitchen filled with water. He put the water down on the floor next to the bucket she’d thrown up in, then went to get a washcloth.

“What’s her temperature?” Clem asked.

William handed him the thermometer, watching Clem’s face, as he read the numbers. Clem looked up at him, his eyes huge.

“Holy...” he started, until William shot him a warning look, not wanting Elizabeth to be alarmed; though they both clearly were.

“Call Dawn,” he whispered, “I need to talk to John.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5:00PM
LOS ANGELES

“...I see. Well, if you think it’s that important, then I’ll arrange it. Day after tomorrow, then?”

“Yes, thank you, Wesley. I knew I could count on you,” Giles said.

“And the needed documents?”

“I’ll send them to you overnight, forthwith.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5:30PM
JULIAN

“Come on, let go, luv,” William said, as he tugged on the blankets Buffy was clinging onto for dear life. “John says we got to get you into the tub in order to get your temperature down.”

“Co...co...cold,” Buffy said, her teeth chattering.

“That’s because every time you start getting these chills, your temperature’s going up, and it’s too high now.”

“Don’t!” she whimpered, as he struggled to divest her of her clothes, and started carrying her toward the bathroom. She clung onto him, shivering.

William hated having to do this, but he knew he couldn’t leave her be with a temperature like this.

The tub was already filled with lukewarm water. John had warned it could be dangerous for her if the water was cold; she was so hot, it would seem cold to her anyway. William bent over to try to put her into the tub, but she clung onto his neck, and wouldn’t let go.

“Come on, Elizabeth; got to let me do this for you.”

She shook her head, refusing to relinquish her hold on him.

“Going to get you in this tub one way or another,” William said, and with one hand, started undoing his pants. He kicked them out of the way, and stepped into the tub. He removed the arm that was holding up her legs, and turned her around, so that her they went down in front of her. Holding onto her firmly, he pushed her legs out in front of her, and quickly slid down behind her, holding onto her.

Crying out when the water made contact with her hot skin, she tried to scramble out, causing water to slosh over the edge and all over the floor, but William held on tight.

“Don’t fight me, luv. Got to do this,” he repeated, as he struggled to keep as much of her body under the water as he could. She was weak, and it wasn’t much of a fight, but he didn’t want her exerting what energy she had left. He sunk down into the tub, pulling her down with him, his legs wrapped around hers to make sure they were in the water as well. He grabbed a nearby towel, and pulled it into the bath, covering up the parts of her that were out of the water, all the way up to her neck. As soon as it would warm up from her body heat, he would swish the cooler bath water over it. For the first few minutes she shivered violently against him, but then the shivers seemed to recede somewhat, as he felt the water itself warming up.

“Sorry to have to do this, since I know you’re probably a bit more comfortable now,” William apologized, as he sat up, pushing her up along with him, as he reached around her to turn on the cold faucet for a couple of seconds, cooling down the water’s temperature, again. Buffy groaned, and shivered a bit, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been at the beginning.

Reaching over the side of the tub, he reached the water bottle he’d brought into the bathroom, and uncapped it.

“Here, need to drink this, too,” he said, holding it to her lips. She drank about a third of it, before reaching out to hold it herself, gulping it down gratefully.

“Better take it easy,” he warned. She nodded, handing him back the bottle.

Buffy finally felt like she was coming to her senses, as the fever began to break. She turned around to look at William solemnly. “You’re all wet,” she said, looking at his shirt.

William grinned at her. “That I am, so are you,” he said, reaching down to kiss her forehead. Buffy turned back around, and closed her eyes, settling her head against his chest.

“Think we’d better get you out,” William said as the water’s temperature cooled. He sat up a bit, pushing her along with him.

“Sit up a bit more, if you can,” he said. She did, and he pulled the wet shirt over his head, tossing it over the faucets.

“Usually one does that before one takes a bath,” she said, with a little smile as she looked over her shoulder at him.

He arched his eyebrows at her. “Not if one is holding onto a feverish, um...make that hot lady, who won’t get in the tub alone,” he replied, glad she was feeling better enough to joke.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“That’s okay, you couldn’t help yourself; would’ve done the same thing in your state. You stay put, while I get myself sorted out first, okay?” he said, standing up. She nodded, and watched as a pair of briefs plopped down next to her in the tub, missing the faucets.

As he was stepping out of the tub, he noticed her shoulders starting to quake.

“Elizabeth, what’s wrong?” he asked alarmed. She looked up at him, and that’s when he saw it; she was laughing!

“What’s so bleedin’ funny? You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“It’s a white flag...” she guffawed, holding up his shorts.

“Glad to give you a chuckle at my expense, luv,” William said, scowling at her, as he wrapped a towel around his waist with as much dignity as he could muster.

“Vampires don’t wear shorts, or float...”

“Now I know you’re bloody well delirious from the fever! Come on, let’s get you out of here,” he said, reaching over and pulling her up.

“...But I tried to teach you how to float in the hot spring. You remember, Spike?” she asked, lost in her own memories.

“Drop ‘em, would you for God’s sake?” William said, of the dripping shorts she still had in her hand. Buffy looked up at him, surprised, as if really seeing him there for the first time, and her eyes filled with tears. The shorts made a splashing sound as they hit the water.

“Please don’t cry, luv. Everything’s going to be alright,” William soothed, chagrined by the sudden change.

Buffy was still unsteady on her feet, as he wrapped a towel around her, then picked her up and carried her back to the bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

6:30PM

“You get some rest now, you need it,” William said, feeling her head once more, and straightening up the covers for her.

She looked at him, questioningly.

“I’ll be here.”

She nodded, closing her eyes, then opened them again. “How did you know?”

“Know what, luv?”

“That I was sick? That I needed you?” Buffy asked, searching his face.

William felt a stab of guilt, remembering the actual reasons he had come over today. He took a deep breath, as he looked into her hazel eyes. “Think it’s best we talk about that tomorrow, yeah? Important thing is I’m here now.”

Slowly she nodded, and closed her eyes.

“I won’t be far, just out in the kitchen for a bit. I’ll be back in to check on you in a little while.”

“Thank you...William,” she said softly, just as he was opening the door.

William felt an unexpected lump in his throat from the sound of his own name. Up until then, he’d realized that she’d been mostly delirious when she’d called him Spike, and made references to vampires. Still, he couldn’t help but feel that delirious or not, Elizabeth had named the person she most hoped would be at her side. It had been Spike, and that he, William, had come up wanting.

He cleared his throat. “You’re welcome.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

7:00PM

“How’s Buffy feeling?” Clem asked, as William came walking into the kitchen.

“Better; she’s resting now. Fever’s down quite a bit, and I got some 7-Up and water into her.”

“That’s good. I made some Jell-O while I was waiting. It’ll be ready for her to eat in a few hours.”

William looked at him gratefully. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Clem?”

“Yeah, Spike? Um...do you mind if I call you that?”

“Either name is alright. I just...I wanted to thank you for taking care of Elizabeth, and also to apologize for how I treated you when I first found out about...everything,” William said, looking down at the floor.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Clem said, making a soft tsking sound.

William shook his head, “No, it really isn’t. I don’t have much in the way of excuses, except at first I was shocked, to say the least. That doesn’t hold much water now though, does it?”

“I understand, really I do. You were just...”

“No, don’t make excuses for me. I...I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate all you’ve done for me and Elizabeth. Especially, how you looked after her, after I...when I was gone all those years.”

“We looked after each other.”

“Still,“ William insisted, “Elizabeth told me all you did, and I just wanted you to know that I’d still be honored and humbled to call you my friend.”

“Aw geez, Spike. Of course we’re still friends,” he said, giving him a pat on the back, then pulled him into a quick but strong bear hug.

William pulled back after a moment, embarrassed, but relieved none-the-less.

“Um, so...” William said, pulling back after a moment, embarrassed, but relieved none-the-less.

“So...” Clem echoed. “How have you been?”

END CHAPTER 170

CHAPTER 171 - ILLUSIONS OF NORMALCY

NOVEMBER 19, 2009
WEDNESDAY
4:00AM

Buffy felt a warm hand over hers, as she slowly awoke. Opening her eyes, she saw William asleep in a chair next to the bed. She stole her hand out from under his, and raised it to his head, her fingers resting lightly in the nest of unkempt hair. William stirred in his sleep, a soft breath escaping his mouth.

"Elizabeth," he said, as his eyes opened to see her watching him, "how are you feeling?"

"Better; a lot better, I think."

"Can I get you anything?" he asked, sitting up.

She asked for some water, and he brought her a fresh bottle, and gave her some of the Jell-O Clem had made.

"Can I do anything else for you?" William asked.

Buffy looked at him for a moment, but didn't say anything.

William tilted his head, smiling gently at her. "What is it, luv?"

"Would you...would you just hold me?" Buffy asked, in a small voice.

William's eyes softened, "Of course," he said, as he got into the bed next to her. He held out his arms, and she lay her head down on his chest.

"How's this?" William asked.

In answer, she sighed softly, wrapping her arm around his neck, and intertwined her legs with his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

9:00AM
LOS ANGELES

“Here,” Dawn said, handing John the phone.

“I still don’t understand why you don’t call yourself. What would you do if I wasn’t here?”

Dawn looked at him with huge, doleful eyes. “I’d call. I just don’t think I can handle talking to William right now. I’m too upset with him.”

With a sigh, John put out his hand, taking the phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

9:00AM
JULIAN

William felt the warmth of her body next to his, before he was fully conscious. He shifted a bit, drawing her near. His eyes opened suddenly then he relaxed, seeing her there. He put his head down on hers, and wrinkled his brow. She was warm again. Not as hot as she’d been, but still warmer than normal.

Just as he was gently disentangling himself to go and get her some water and aspirin, he heard the phone ringing from the living room. He hurried to get it before it could wake her.

He spotted her phone on the table next to the couch, and answered it.

“Hello?”

“William? How’s Buffy?”

“Hello, John. She’s doing a lot better than yesterday, though it feels like she’s still is running a bit of a fever.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. Elizabeth’s still asleep. I just woke up, and she felt warm, so I was just on my way to get her some water and aspirin, when you rang.”

“I see. Well, if her temperature stays under 100 today, then I’d say that she’s on mend.”

“How long do you think that she’ll still be sick with this?”

“Hard to say, flu symptoms, even after the fever has gone, can last up to a week, or even longer. I’d say the worse of it is behind her, though.”

“Do you think...do you think that she’d be alright staying by herself by tomorrow?”

“If she’s still is getting better today, then I would say that wouldn’t be a problem at all.”

“What won’t be a problem,” Dawn asked.

“Good,” John said, holding up his hand.

“You’re not home to stay then, I take it?” John asked.

“He’s not staying?” Dawn hissed, at him in disbelief.

John motioned for her to be quiet.

William took a deep breath. “No,” he said, hesitating, “not right now. I’m going away for a while, in fact. I was supposed to be leaving tomorrow, but now I’m not sure; that’s why I asked.”

“Does Buffy know?”

“Not yet. That’s why I came up here, to talk to her, but with all that was happening...wasn’t exactly the right time, was it?”

“No, I agree,” John said.

“John, I was wondering if you and Dawn could look in on Elizabeth. Of course there’s Clem, but I’m sure she’d would feel a bit more comforted if her sister were here.”

“Yes, Dawn was already planning on coming,” John said, looking at Dawn. “Do you want her to come today?”

William thought about it for a few moments. On the one hand, he had missed Dawn fiercely; almost as much as he missed Elizabeth, and wanted to see her. On the other hand, if she came to Julian, knowing he was leaving - as she surely would - he would not only have to face Elizabeth and whatever her reaction was going to be, but Dawn’s as well.

“I think it might be better if she came in a day or two; after I’ve gone. I think we’ll be fine until then. That, and I don’t think Dawn thinks too highly of me right about now.”

John didn’t reply for a moment. “That may be for the best,” he said diplomatically, looking at Dawn.

“What’s for the best?” Dawn whispered, impatiently.

“Would you give her a message for me?” William said. “Tell her...tell Dawn that I love her, and that I haven’t forgotten about her, and that I’ll write to her; soon.”

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

“Thanks John. For everything.”

“You’re welcome. Good luck, William. Call if you need anything, okay?”

“I will.” William promised.

“Bye,” John said, hanging up.

“Good-bye, John,” William said, clicking the end button on Elizabeth’s cell phone.

He stood in the living room looking around. Glancing up at the mantle, he saw the remaining survivor of the two pots they’d bought in Mesa Verde was still there on the right side; the other he’d broken, he remembered sadly. He moved it from the side to the center, but somehow it didn’t look right, either. Sighing, he moved it back to where it had been.

William went into the kitchen, and filled the teapot with water, turning on the stove. Then he got a cold bottle of water from the refrigerator and two aspirin, and started back to the bedroom.

He was almost to the door, when he heard her whimpering in her sleep, as she clutched at the pillows next to her. William quickly set down the water bottle, and aspirin, and lay down beside her.

“It’s alright, Elizabeth. I’m here,” he said, as he put his arms around her.

She made a strangled cry as her eyes opened, wrapping her arms around him tightly. “I thought you were...I’m sorry,” she said, into his chest.

“Why?”

She shook her head.

“I’m still here, luv,” William said softly, as if reading her mind, and stroked her hair soothingly.

Buffy gratefully nodded, biting back the impulse on the one hand to ask him for how long, and beg him not to leave her on the other, but she didn’t. She wouldn’t. She still had her pride; at least a bare smidgen of what was once her pride. It was just being ill, she told herself, that was making her all weepy. Finally, Buffy relaxed her grip on him, and lifted her face off his chest to look at him.

William’s hand strayed automatically to her face, gently wiping a tear away with his thumb, as he looked questioningly at her.

“How did you know to come? That I was sick?” Buffy finally asked, continuing the question she’d started yesterday.

William took a deep breath, then reached over to the table, grabbing the water bottle, and aspirin. “How about you take these for me first, okay?”

Buffy nodded, sitting up. “Yes, nurse.”

“Hey, could’ve at least made that doctor,” he said, giving her a wry look.

“It’s quite respectable to be a male nurse in this century you know, and the last one too, for that matter; just like there are female doctors,” she gently teased. “Leroy’s a nurse, remember?”

“Yeah, I do. Either one will do then, I guess. In any case, something good to be said about saving lives...” William said softly trailing off, a far away look in his eyes.

Buffy put her hand over his, and looked into his eyes.

“You did save lives; all of us...”

“Took ‘em, too, didn’t I?” William asked, an unexpected bitter edge coming into his voice. He quickly looked away, getting control of his emotions.

“Sorry, luv. Here, take your aspirin,” he said, handing them to her.

Buffy sighed, but did as he asked.

William took the almost empty water bottle from her, not quite meeting her gaze.
She lay back on her pillows waiting for him to talk. He cleared his throat.

“I didn’t know you were sick or needed me when I came yesterday, though I thank God that I came when I did,” William began thoughtfully, taking a quick look over at her.

Buffy nodded, “Go on.”

“I left Los Angeles yesterday morning, and went back to San Marcos because... to do a few things.”

“What things?”

William shook his head, “Doesn’t matter; main thing was coming here. Would’ve come sooner, had I known your school had been canceled. I’d been wanting to come here ever since I last saw you; since you’d come to the bar,” he said, taking a deep breath, and looking at her. “I just couldn’t leave it off where we left it. I...I wanted to...no, need to apologize to you. I’m sorry, Elizabeth; so terribly sorry about how I treated you that night. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d never spoke to me again; didn’t know that you even would.”

“But you came anyway,” Buffy said, reaching out and putting her hand on his face, his eyes lifted to meet hers.

“Had to, Elizabeth. Even if you didn’t talk to me, figured I owed you that much; owe you more...”

“Thank you,” Buffy said, solemnly. “Though, I think I might be a bit to blame for...”

“No!” William said adamantly, shaking his head. “You. Are. Not.”

They stared at each other for a moment, until she spoke.

“What about Ipso Facto?”

“I’m done with it,” he said, with a reassuring nod.

“And with her?” Buffy asked, scanning his face.

“Who her?”

“What’s her name?”

“Who? Miranda?”

“Yeah,” Buffy said, softly.

“You thought...? Oh, Elizabeth, she’s just a friend, nothing more. There could never be...don’t you know that?” William asked, his blue eyes beseeching hers, and head tilted in that unique mannerism of his that always made her heart melt.

“I thought I did,” Buffy answered in small voice, “but I wasn’t so sure anymore.”

“Forgive me, Elizabeth,” William said, pulling her into his arms, tenderly kissing the top of her head. “I’ve been a sorry mess; but me and Miranda? Never!”

“I’m glad,” Buffy said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3:00PM

Buffy continued to improve all day. The temperature she had in the morning went away with the aspirin, and barely returned. Finally, after a nap in the afternoon that William insisted she take, she talked him into letting her out of bed. He agreed on the condition she stayed on the couch.

When she woke from her nap, she heard William's voice from the other room; it sounded agitated. Curious, she got up and went to the door and opened it a bit. She could see him talking on the phone.

"No, I can't. Not now," she heard him say, taking a deep breath. He seemed to be getting more and more agitated as he listened to the person on the other end of the line.

As he walked towards the dining room, and she could only hear snatches of his conversation.

"...Well, things have changed...”

“...I’m sorry you went to so much trouble...expense... pay you back.”

“...needs me here."

William walked back into the living room.

"Thank you. Yes, I'll let you know if I change my mind,” William finished, his voice sounding frustrated. She saw him flip closed the phone, then throw it onto the couch.

Buffy hurried back to bed, when she heard his footsteps approaching.

William opened the door, and smiled when he saw her open her eyes, “Hey sleepyhead.”

“Hey, yourself,” she said, returning his smile. “I thought I heard the phone. Who called?”

“Nobody important,” he said mildly.

“Oh,” she said trying not to appear hurt by his evasive answer.

“Really, nothing for you to be concerned about, Elizabeth,” he said walking over to the bed, and sat down on it’s edge.

“Speaking of phone calls, Mrs. Carpello called while you were napping. She said to tell you to call her when you feel up to it, and wished you a speedy recovery. Oh, and that school has been canceled for the rest of the week, but if you needed more time, then that was fine.”

“Thanks. Bet she was surprised to hear your voice, huh?”

“Yeah, think she was, but she didn’t make a deal of it, other than to ask how I had been doing; that sort of thing.”

Buffy nodded, smiling inwardly at her boss’ tactfulness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, here it is,” William said, as he came into the living room, carrying the painting she’d asked him to bring down from the attic.

“Thanks. It’s lovely.”

“You really like it?” William asked, a slight blush coloring his cheeks, though he couldn’t help being pleased.

“I really do, it’s wonderful. It’s also the only thing that kept me from roasting alive up there.”

“How’s that?”

“Looking at the lake, and imagining the feel of the water; that sort of thing.”

William laughed softly, “Glad it was good for something then, yeah?”

Buffy nodded.

William sat down on the chair across from the couch, with the picture on the floor between his legs, facing him. “I had planned on giving it to you when we came back from holiday,” he said, looking up at her sadly.

“I figured it must have been something like that,” Buffy said.

“You were out shopping for some last minute items for our trip, when I came home with it that day. I remember I felt quite pleased with myself that I’d finally finished it,” he said quietly. “I came home that afternoon, and started looking all around the house, looking for a good hiding spot; that’s when I discovered the attic.

“I remember that day, I called you and you sounded so...Oh.”

William looked over at her, nodding. “Yeah. Discovered the picture of my mum, and of him and Dru, and the one you called Darla, too that day. And all the others drawings.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you, I should’ve...” Buffy said, struggling to sit up.

“I didn’t know what to make of it,” he continued, as though he hadn’t heard her. “Couldn’t figure out why I would’ve written dates on the backs of the pictures that made no sense at all. Even thought that maybe there had been another person with my name from a long time ago, or that I’d dated it that way, just so it would seem like it was old. Of course, that made even less sense,” he let out a small, strange sounding laugh.

He shook his head to clear it, then looked at her, and saw her hastily wipe her eyes. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to drag all that up; just seeing the picture made me recall...” he cleared his throat. “But you really like it?”

“I love it; it’s beautiful,” she said, smiling reassuringly.

“Thanks...I’m glad. So, where do you want it?”

“Could you hang it above the bed? No, wait, how about on the wall across from the bed? That way I can look at it when I’m lying in bed.”

“Sure,” he said, going to get a hammer and nail.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5:00PM

“You getting chills again?” William asked, concerned, as he caught Buffy pulling the throw around her.

“No. Really, I’m not,” she said, seeing the doubt in his eyes. “The room’s just a bit chilly is all.”

She could see him visibly relax. “Yeah, it is a might. Are there any logs on the porch?” he asked, looking at the empty fireplace.

“Yeah, Clem stacked some out there. Why? Are you going to build a fire?"

"I was thinking about it. That alright?"

"That’d be nice,” she said smiling at him.

“While you’re doing that, I could warm up some soup for us. Didn’t you say Clem brought some over?”

He shook his head, “No, you stay where you’re at; you’re supposed to be resting.”

“I’m perfectly capable of standing in the kitchen, stirring a pot of soup; I’m not that feeble, you know,” she argued, rolling her eyes at him.

William walked over to her, and knelt down in front of the couch, resting his arms on her legs. He took hold of her hands. “I know that, luv. Just want to you to take it easy, okay? You had a bad spell. Don’t want to see you have a relapse.”

Buffy softened at his words. “I know, I just...” she lost herself in the moment, as they stared in each other’s eyes, in a way that they hadn’t for a long time.

The moment passed, and William released her hands, and started to stand up. Buffy put her hand on his face, stopping him. “Thank you.”

He cleared his throat. “You just stay on the couch while I make a fire. Then, I’ll go warm up the soup.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

7:00PM

They’d spent the rest of the day in the living room. It felt good to be out of the sick bed, even if William kept her from doing anything more than lying on the couch the whole time.

After dinner, he’d asked her if she’d read any more of the last book that they’d taken turns reading to each other during the summer.

Buffy shook her head, not telling him that it had been too painful for her to even consider finishing it up by herself. It had been their thing. Without that, the story on its own held no interest for her, even if it was a good one.

“I think it’s your turn to read,” she suggested, coyly.

“Is it now?” William teased back, eyebrows arching in mock disbelief. “Thought it was yours. However, seeing as you’re all sickly, I guess I’ll take your turn. That’ll mean you owe me two. How’s that?”

“That’s fair,” Buffy said lightly. Inwardly her heart skipped a beat, over the future reference to her owing him the next two readings. She took it as a hopeful sign that William planned on staying.

William agreed to sit on the couch, as long as she still lay down. Buffy reached over and turned on the light next to the couch as he began to read.

She had curled up so that he would have room to sit, but he patted his lap, (without missing a syllable), and she stretched out. She would’ve rather laid her head on his lap like she used to, but this was good. Maybe better even, as it gave her a chance to study William’s face unabashedly as he read, rather than looking at the dust cover of the book.

“Want me to continue?” William asked, when he reached the end of the chapter.

“Please,” she said. Listening to his low, melodious voice again was the best balm of all. Just the mere normalcy of it, even if it was a temporary illusion of normalcy, was better than any heart-wrenching dreams, or daydreams she’d had of his returning to her had been.

“Well, now I think you’re in it for three,” William said, winking at her when he’d finally closed the book. He reached over and took a swallow of the soda he had poured himself.

“It’ll be my pleasure, just as soon as I’m up to snuff, or capable of talking without coughing for more than two minutes,” she replied, grinning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How’s this?” William asked holding up Sleepless in Seattle on DVD, knowing it was one her favorites.

“It’s okay with me, but what about you? Wouldn’t you rather watch something you like better?”

“I like it, too,” William said, popping it into the DVD player, thus ending the debate.

He sat down on the floor in front of the couch, and leaned back, as they began watching the movie.

It had been so long since she’d seen William really laugh that when he did, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his face. Buffy’s hand strayed up to his hair, her fingers running through the waves of blonde hair. For a moment, she thought she felt him stiffen, but then it was gone; leaving her to wonder if she’d imagined it, or if it was something she’d just half-expected him to do. Still, since he’d been at the house, he’d been nothing but warm and caring towards her. It almost made her glad she’d gotten sick, if only to allow them to skip over the pain of their last reunion.

A moment later, she felt him lean back into her hand, as her fingers massaged his scalp.

“Feels nice,” he murmured appreciatively, over his shoulder.

“Good,” she said, then asked. “When did you do it?”

“Do what?” William asked, glancing back at her.

“Dye your hair?”

William pushed the pause button on the remote before answering. “About a month ago, maybe a little longer. Was in a drug store, and spotted the damned thing in the aisle. Not quite sure what possessed me to buy it, but I do know I was drunk when I did the deed, “ he said, rolling his eyes.

“Must’ve been a shock the next morning, huh?”

“You have no idea,” he said. They looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“No, but I can imagine. That must’ve been some shock.”

He nodded, vigorously.

“And the coat? When did you get that?”

“Around the same time; afterwards. At a fireman’s rummage sale, actually. Just sort of stumbled onto it, while I was there. It was a good price,” he added, with a shrug.

“It looks a lot like your old one,” Buffy said.

“If you say so. The only time I remember seeing a picture of it was when you showing me that picture I drew of us getting married,” William said. He glanced at her just in time to see the flash of pain in her eyes, then quickly looked away, realizing just what he’d brought up.

Besides, it wasn’t completely true. He’d seen enough of himself in his nightmares to know that the coat he’d been drawn to, was a close approximation of the real thing.

“What is it with you and long black coats?” Buffy asked, mildly, trying to make a joke of the suddenly tense situation.

“I don’t know, luv. Costume, I guess. Made me feel different when I wore it, stronger somehow. Think I needed that for a while.”

“And now?” Buffy gently asked.

He shrugged.

“You are strong, William.”

He shook his head. “How can you possibly say that with everything you know?” he asked, incredulous. Yet when he looked into her eyes, he saw in them, only her belief in him.

“It is precisely because I know you, that I can say that,” she replied with conviction.

For the briefest moment, he looked at her with something like awe, and he sat up a little straighter. “I am trying to be, Elizabeth,” William said, clearing his throat.

“I know, and that’s all anyone can...”

“Let’s just watch the movie now,” he said, breaking off the moment, as he hit the play button.

“Okay,” Buffy agreed, afraid to push him anymore. As it was, he’d opened up to her more than he had for a long time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They were about half way through the movie, when William made a small grunting noise. “What’s wrong?” Buffy asked

“Nothing, just trying to get comfortable,” William said, trying to shift his weight to a different position.

“Why don’t you just come up here?”

“Because, I want you to stay put.”

“Well, I could still do that, and so could you,” she said, pointing to behind her.

He looked skeptical.

“It’s not like we both can’t fit on this couch, we have before. I mean, unless you’re afraid to catch the flu from me.”

“A bit late to worry on that count,” he said, getting up rather stiffly. “I’ll take my chances.”

She moved forward, and he shimmied in behind her, putting one arm under her neck, and the other over her.

Buffy snuggled back against him, as he intertwined her fingers with his, and they came to rest between her breasts. She moved her rear end up against William a little, and he pushed forward in turn. Gently, they rocked back and forth against each other a few times. Not that either thought of it as a prelude to sex, even though it was evident that he had an erection. Both recognized that under different circumstances, it very likely would have ended up that way, but on this night it was more about the comfortable way that lovers are with each other; a way for their bodies to respond to each other and say hello.

Although he recognized this fact, William was having trouble keeping his mind on the movie. Between the comforting smell of her vanilla scented hair next to his face, and her warm, yielding body rubbing up against him in all the right places, he was definitely distracted.

The little vixen!

After a few, and becoming-painfully-distracting-minutes, he forced himself to still his body, and tried to force his concentration back to the movie. The effort and the emotionally exhausting past few days caught up with him, and his eyelids grew heavy.

Buffy also struggled to keep the movie in focus, absentmindedly stroking his arm, as her body’s heightened senses, reminded her of how well they fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle. That, and all the other corny cliches which came to mind.

The sound of a soft snore over her shoulder brought her mind back to the present. Turning her head, she saw his eyes were closed. Smiling contentedly, Buffy turned off the TV, and lay watching the flames dancing in the fireplace.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

11:00PM

Opening his eyes as he lay next to Elizabeth on the couch, for a few moments, he forgot all about the past few months, and for the first time in a long time he felt happy and content. Even when the memories returned a moment later, he still felt a sense of stoicism. He closed his eyes again, feeling her next to him, and wondered if he could possibly stay; letting the chips fall where they may, and letting the past stay there. He could try, he told himself. He could stay; they could go on with their lives. He would put everything out of his mind, and take care of her, love her, work, raise a family...

He opened his eyes, gazing at her with tenderness. Carefully he rose, and made sure the fire was out altogether, before gently gathering her in his arms and carrying her to bed.


END CHAPTER 171

CHAPTER 172 – WHAT I HAVE TO DO; AS A MAN

NOVEMBER 20, 2009
THURSDAY
1:00AM

William's eyes flew open, the echoes of both their screams still pulsing on the edge of his nightmare. Heart pounding, his hands went to his face, first feeling along his eyebrows and forehead, and then his teeth. Despite his wanting to bolt upright, he eased himself out of the bed, as to not wake Elizabeth. Somehow he managed to find his pants and shirt, and pulled them on before letting himself out of the bedroom.

He headed for his duster, hanging near the door, and grabbed the cigarettes out of the pocket, before pulling it on. Next, he went into the kitchen, and opened the cabinet door underneath the sink. There in the far right corner, behind the cleaning supplies, was a bottle of gin he'd stashed. He grabbed it, and headed onto the back porch.

Hands trembling, he only hesitated for a moment before taking a long pull on the bottle. His teeth clenched as the burning liquid hit his stomach. He felt the rising nausea from the combination of the alcohol, and the memory of the coppery taste in his mouth, and made for the back door, running outside just in time to empty the his stomach onto the grass. Lifting his head, he surveyed the contents, almost expecting to see blood in the mix. Luckily, there wasn't.

"Jeez, are you okay, Spike?" Clem's voice asked, from out of the darkness.

William stood up and backed away as quick as he could, nearly avoiding smacking into a tree.

He froze, seeing William's reaction.

"Clem," William finally spoke, "it's you."

"Yeah, just me," Clem said, relaxing a bit. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"I just...what are you doing here? I mean right now; in the middle of the night?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I decided to take a walk. That, and I was going to drop off some things for you guys; food things."

William looked at the bag Clem was carrying for the first time.

"I was just going to leave it on the back porch; not knock or anything."

"Oh. Well...thanks."

Clem nodded. "What about you? Are you getting sick with the flu, too?"

William looked at him blankly, until Clem motioned to the vomit. William shook his head, and his shoulders slumped, as he sat down in front of the tree he'd nearly stumbled into, and lit a cigarette. Clem sat down a few feet from him, waiting.

"I thought I could do it," he said softly, taking a deep drag from the cigarette.

"Do what?"

"This," William said, motioning with his hands to everything around him, "stay here with Elizabeth, take care of her; go back to the way things were. For a while tonight, I almost believed it was possible."

"What changed?" Clem asked.

William shook his head.

“You guys have a fight?”

“No, nothing like that. Quiet the opposite, in fact,” he said, with a pained laugh.

William puffed on his cigarette as they sat there in silence for a few minutes. Finally he looked up at Clem.

“It’s these nightmares I been having.”

Clem studied his face; it was the picture of pain and dejection. “Everyone has nightmares sometimes. I think after what happened to you that's sort of to be expected. Know what I mean? Whatever they are, I don’t think that means you can’t stay here with Buffy.”

“I can’t! You don’t understand, in these nightmares I...it’s as if I’m him again!”

“Who? Spike?”

William nodded.

“Spike was an alright guy for a vampire. You did good things. You helped me, Edna, Buffy and her friends, and hey, Buffy did fall in love with you; I don't think she would've done that if you were all bad."

William ran his hands through his hair, in a frustrated gesture. “I don’t know how she could’ve, Clem. A woman like her - good, decent, The Slayer. How could she?"

Clem shrugged, “Love’s a funny thing.”

“I feel it inside me, when I have these nightmares.”

“What? Love?” Clem asked, confused.

“No! Not love. I feel the hate, the evil, the lust to kill," he said, looking at Clem.

“It’s still a nightmare,” Clem said, though something in the way his eyes had flared with the old intensity of Spike made Clem discreetly inch backwards.

“Is everyone a cold-blooded killer in their nightmares? I kill everyone in mine, including her; particularly, her,” William said, with a shudder.

“Shit. That sucks.”

“Yeah,” William said, with a small laugh.

“But you haven’t actually killed anyone recently, or drank any blood, right?”

"Of course not! Though, I did kill demons when I was working at Ipso Facto...bad demons,” he clarified.

“Well, that’s good. I mean good that they were bad," Clem said. "There you go."

William shook his head. “I don’t trust myself, I don’t know what’s happening to me. What if it's more than just nightmares, and I try to...?" he left the words unsaid, the meaning clear.

“You should tell Buffy what you’re going through, man. Maybe the two of you...”

“No! That’s just it. I can’t risk her that way; I won't. That's why I’m going away. At least until I can get some answers about my nightmares, and about who I was; when I was him.”

“Well, that’s just stupid...er, I mean silly,” Clem said, darting a careful glance at William. “What I mean, is that we can tell you all about him. Um...about yourself...Spike, that is. I’ve known you forever, and there’s Buffy, who knows you really, really, well. There’s Dawn...”

“No. I need to...I’m going to England, to stay with Mr. Giles for a while.”

“Her former watcher? Does Buffy know?”

“No, and I don’t want you to tell her.”

“Oh, man...”

“Please? I need to do this; alone.”

“If Buffy finds out I knew, she’s going to be really pissed at me,” Clem said, and wondering where he might stay to avoid the fallout. Perhaps with his cousin Marlong, in San Diego...

“Not as pissed as she’ll be at me; if that’s any consolation.”

Clem laughed, “Not really. Still, I don’t understand why you’d want to go and stay with Mr. Giles. From what Buffy told me, he hated you when you were a vampire.”

“Yeah, kind of got that impression, too. I mean, I don’t think he hates me now,” William said, shaking his head to clear it. “But in some ways that’s the point. The fact that he did, means he doesn’t have any reason to mollify the truth, or keep it from me.”

“You sure that’s what you want?” Clem asked.

William took his time answering it. “No, it’s not what I want; but it is what I need.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2:00AM

Buffy didn’t remember falling asleep on the couch, or being carried to bed, but at midnight she’d awaken, and found herself in basically the same position she had been on the couch. Only in reverse, with her arm wrapped around William’s waist, his hand holding tightly onto hers on his chest.

But when she woke now, she immediately sensed his absence. Troubled for reasons as yet unknown to her, she sat up, and grabbed her robe. Quietly, Buffy opened the door to her room, and went looking for William. She made a quick tour of the house, even calling up into the attic, but he wasn’t there. With a growing feeling of foreboding, she noticed his duster missing from the coat stand by the door.

Steeling herself for the worst, she forced herself look outside. She reached out and steadied herself, letting out a breath of relief, when she saw William’s car was still parked in front of the house. Backtracking to the kitchen, she let herself out onto the porch. That’s when she saw him sitting outside on the ground with Clem.

And it was at that very moment, that she knew.

Perhaps it was his posture; the slump of his shoulders, or the way his head was bent, but she knew. Her heart sank, as she watched him through the window, unseen.

Buffy watched as Clem finally rose to leave. A few minutes later, William got up, and headed back to the house. She turned, and hurried back into the bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

William let himself in the back door, closing it softly. In the kitchen, he replaced the bottle of gin underneath the sink; sorry he’d taken it out in the first place. It hadn’t helped.

He let himself into the spare bedroom, and went into the bathroom from there, where he proceeded to brush his teeth, and gargle, hoping to erase the telltale signs of cigarettes and alcohol. Finished, he ran a comb through his hair, and undressed, before coming back into the bedroom.

Quietly, he laid his clothes over the chair, then crawled under the covers, careful not to disturb her. Elizabeth’s back was to him, and although he tried, William couldn’t resist sidling up to her again.

Buffy felt William’s arm go around her, and the whisper of a kiss being placed on her head. She intertwined her hand tightly in his, gathering up her courage, before turning around to face him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” William said, adjusting his embrace to her turn.

“You didn’t; not really,” Buffy said.

“How are you? You feeling okay? Do you need anything? A drink? An aspirin?” he asked, feeling her head.

Buffy laughed softly, “Stop worrying. I’m okay.” She paused, as she searched his face. “What about you? What do you need, William? What do you want?”

“Me? I’m... What do I...?” William started, then grew silent as the meaning of her words started to sink in.

“Elizabeth...”

“It’s okay,” she said, with a small, encouraging smile that didn’t quite make it to her eyes, “tell me.”

William took a breath, “Elizabeth,” he started, “yesterday when I came over to apologize, I also came to tell you that...I’m going away for a while. Tomorrow.”

“You’ve already been away; how’s this any different?” Buffy asked, with a touch of bitterness creeping into her voice.

“Not running away from...everything this time. I see that now. Didn’t think I’d have classified it that way before, but how does that expression go? Hindsight is always 20/20?”

“Then if you’re not running away, why are you leaving?”

“Looking for answers this go around.”

“But why do you have to leave? I can help you...”

“No,” William said gently, “you can’t. At least not right now.”

She laid back on her pillow, and closed her eyes, willing the tears to not come.

“Elizabeth,” William said, leaning over her. “Look at me.”

Slowly Buffy opened her eyes. His blue eyes were directly above hers.

“I am not doing this to try to cut you out of my life,” he said, shaking his head, and willing her to believe him.

“No? Looks like it from where I sit; or lay may be the more accurate term. And hey, you’ve gotten a pretty good start on that already!”

“Elizabeth,” he said, trying hard not to be baited into an fight with her. “It’s what I have to do; as a man.”

“I don’t understand why you can’t stay, why you won’t let me help you through this. Why?” Buffy asked sitting up.

William sat up as well, and knelt on the bed in front of her, taking her hands. “This isn’t about my not wanting you in my life, nor is it about not wanting us to be together more than anything in this world; I do. I do,” he said, leaning forward and cupping her face in his hands, “but this is something I need to do for me.”

Buffy let his words sink in, finally giving a short nod. William let out a grateful breath at her acceptance.

“Can I at least ask you where you’re going?”

“Not right now,” William said, gently, then hurried to add, “but I’ll be in touch within a week or two. I promise you Elizabeth, I won’t keep you in the dark for very long.”

“Promise?”

“I just did,” he said softly, leaning over and kissing her forehead. She put her arms around him, and they hugged for a long while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was decided by them both, that William would leave early the next morning, before Buffy woke. They had already said their goodbyes the night before.

Although neither of them had thought they would actually be able to sleep, while enjoying the comfort of each other’s embrace for one last night, they had fallen asleep a couple of hours later.

William awoke around 8:00am. He stared at Elizabeth, willing his eyes to drink in the image of her, and his body to commit to memory, the feel of her against him, before starting his lonely journey. Finally, he rose, and got ready to leave.

He went into the spare room, and found her laptop, that she’d told him he could take. William had agreed, since the one at the apartment was the Wittman’s, and he didn’t know what the situation would be in England.

Grabbing the few things he had with him, plus a few more that had been at the house, he went out to the kitchen one last time. He jotted a quick note to her, and folded it, leaving it on the table.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

8:45AM

William slowed down as he neared The Rittenhouse Restaurant, an idea forming in his head. He waited behind an early morning delivery truck just pulling out, before deciding to take it’s place at the curb. Pulling out a small pad of paper from his glove compartment, he wrote a note to Edna, asking her to please make up some of Elizabeth’s favorite dishes from the menu, which he listed, and letting her know that Clem or Dawn would be by later in the day to pick up the order. Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out five twenties, and placed them inside the note. On a separate piece of paper, he then wrote a short, personal note to Edna.

That finished, he got out of the car, and walked up the sidewalk to the entrance.

In the dining room, Edna was straightening up the tables, when she heard the door open.

“I thought you’d already left, Henry,” Edna called out, thinking it was the delivery man again. She walked back towards the front of the restaurant. “What else do you have for me?”

William had started to put the note on the maitre’d’s podium, when he heard her voice from the dining room.

Seconds later, she appeared. Edna froze; her eyes grew wide with sudden confusion.

“Hello, Edna,” William said softly.

“William?” Edna asked, still not believing what her eyes were telling her they were seeing.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, smiling uncertainly.

“William?” she repeated.

“Holy moley. I think I’m having a flashback!”

Both William and Edna turned to see Wallace, walking toward them.

“Huh?” William asked, now more confused than ever.

“Dude! Have you looked at yourself lately?”

The light bulb in William’s head finally went off, as he realized why Edna had looked so flabbergasted, and what Wallace’s words had meant.

Embarrassed, he looked down. “Um...yeah. Sorry about that, forgot I looked different than the last time you saw me. Forget it myself, sometimes.”

Edna cleared her throat, regaining her equanimity. “No need to apologize for anything William. Wallace, will you please bring some coffee to us in my office?”

Before William could protest, she had him firmly by the arm, leading him through the dining room, into the kitchen, and beyond.

As he followed Edna to her office, William couldn’t help pausing, as he passed the open door to the small room, and sometimes, private dining area, where he had proposed to Elizabeth. It was now once more, filled with supplies.

“Ah, yes; it’s a mess once again, as you can see,” Edna remarked seeing him looking into the room.

He didn’t reply, just followed her into her office.

Edna cleared off a chair, covered in various papers and cartons, moving it to the front of her desk.

“Now you can sit,” she said, patting it.

“You’re looking well, Edna,” William said, as he took the seat.

She dismissed his compliment with a self-effacing hand gesture.

“And you look...”

“Bloody ridiculous?” William volunteered, looking down.

Before she could answer, Wallace brought the coffees, and set them down, then went back to the kitchen.

Edna reached across the table and put her hand over William’s, as he was reaching for his coffee, subconsciously reassured that he was still warm to the touch. “I was going to say you look just like you did before you went away. That’s all,” she said, smiling.

“Yeah, guess I do at that,” William answered with a nod.

They drank their coffees in silence for a while.

“So, what brings you to the restaurant this morning?”

“Oh. Of course,” William said, telling what had been in the note.

“Elizabeth’s been ill?” Edna asked, looking up at him, alarmed.

“Yeah, she was. I mean she is, but she’s doing much better.”

“Oh my, I wish I’d known. I could’ve sent over something much sooner...”

“Don’t think it would’ve done much good then, seeing as she couldn’t keep anything down.”

“Of course. Goodness, that flu that’s going around has been just terrible. I’m glad I let my doctor talk me into a shot this year,” she rambled on a bit, the last thing caught his attention, however. “It’s a good thing that you’re there to take care of her. I’m so glad you’re back together...”

William cleared his throat. “Um...we’re not; not exactly. That’s why Dawn or Clem will be picking up the order. I’m going away for a while. I’m leaving today, in fact. I was just heading back to San Marcos to pack, when I decided to stop here first.”

“San Marcos?”

Fearing the disappointment he was sure to see in her eyes, he looked down as he spoke. “Yeah, been living there since last you saw me, tended bar for a while,” he said, giving her the abbreviated version of what his life had been like.

“I see,” Edna said, after a while. “What I don’t see though, is why two people who love each other as much as you and Elizabeth do, aren’t together. I’ve lived a long, long time, and I know exactly what I see when I look at the two of you; it’s a rare thing, William. So tell me, why are you going away, instead of staying here, where you belong?”

“It’s complicated...”

“What could be so complicated that you couldn’t work it out here, with Elizabeth at your side?”

“Edna,” William said, his hands going up to run through his hair. “You don’t know everything about me; if you did, I don’t think you would...let’s just say, you probably wouldn’t feel the same about me. Bloody h...uh, sorry,” he apologized, catching himself. “I didn’t even know everything about me, until recently. That’s why I’m leaving; there’s other things...things I need to know; have to find out.”

“William, there’s nothing; nothing you could tell me that would change my mind about you.”

“How can you be so sure of that?” William asked.

“I am, even if you’re not,” Edna answered evenly. “It’s one of the few, true benefits of age, the ability to see; really see people for what they are, despite appearances, despite a lot of things,” she said, holding him in her gaze.

“It means a lot to me that you think so highly of me. Even if I don’t share the same opinion,” William said, ruefully.

“When I look at you, I see a good man, plain and simple. Not that your life has been that, dare I say. But despite whatever it is you either know about yourself, or find out, when you go looking, you’re a good person inside, William. I think that counts for a lot, if not everything.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

9:30AM

“Good-bye, William. You take good care of yourself,” Edna said, giving him a hug. “I hope you find whatever it is you’re hoping to find out about yourself. Just remember, no matter what that is, this is your home; where you’re loved and accepted for you.”

“I won’t forget,” he answered.

“Promise an old woman?”

“Who’s old?” he asked, taking a step back to look at her in mock surprise.

“William!” she said with a delighted giggle, though still trying to sound serious.

“I promise,” he said solemnly. “Well, I’d better be on my way.”

Edna released him. “Go on, then,” she said, giving him a gentle shove.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Wallace said, joining William as he walked down the steps.

“I wanted to thank you for everything you did last time I was here. I was a real mess.”

“No problem,” Wallace said, shrugging.

“Yeah, it was. Listen, I left a note on the podium when I first came in; before I saw Edna. It’s got the list of dishes I wanted Elizabeth to have made up for her. There’s enough money to cover it all, plus the amount I owed you is there, too.”

“You didn’t have to worry about that.”

“Wasn’t worried, just wanted to pay you back like I said I would.”

“Thanks, that’s cool,” Wallace said.

“Glad Edna didn’t see the note yet, she never wants to take my money.”

“Nope, not her William’s money,” Wallace said, grinning.

“Take care, Wallace,” William said, shaking his hand. Just as he was opening the door, a car came to a stop in the road next to them. He only gave it a cursory glance, as the morning sun was shining into his eyes from that direction.

"Spike?"

The two men looked over at the driver, who was staring at William with her mouth open.

"Dawn," he stammered.

She continued to stare at him, taking in the familiar appearance.

"Wallace, this is Dawn, Elizabeth's sister."

"Hi, Dawn,” Wallace said.

"Hello," she answered, her eyes never leaving William's.

"Well, um...I'll see you later William. Nice to meet you.”

"Yeah, same here," Dawn said. She put the car into park, and got out of it, leaving it on the road. Despite the fact that Buffy had told her of William’s changed looks, Dawn still felt like she was really seeing Spike for the first time in over five years. Not surprisingly, with that realization also came a good deal of anger; Spike anger.

"I don't know if I should hug you or hit you," she said, glaring at him.

"I guess you could do both; if you want...”

“Shut up!” Dawn said, flinging herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. A lump came up in his throat as he held her; the young woman whom he inexplicably felt so much brotherly love toward, ever since getting to know her again. Just like Elizabeth, the more he’d gotten to know her, the more he felt he could imagine remembering the love he’d felt for them from before. He hadn’t felt the same about the other friends of theirs, hers, that he’d been re-introduced to, but with her...Before he could say anything, Dawn pulled back her fist, and slugged him as hard as she could.

"Ouch! Damnit, that really hurt," he said, rubbing his upper arm; grateful she hadn’t aimed for any other parts of his person.

"Good! You're an asshole, you know that?" Dawn said.

"Dawn..." William started.

“No! No matter what you say, no matter how you say it, I’m still going to think that you’re an asshole right now, so don’t even try,” Dawn said, hands on hips.

William shoulders sagged, and he looked toward the ground.

“Well?” Dawn asked, tapping her foot impatiently, waiting.

“I thought you said...”

“Yeah, well, when did that ever stop you?”

William sighed, “I know what you think Dawn, but it’s complicated, I...”

“Oh William! Give it a fucking rest, will you? Dawn said, deriving some pleasure from him flinching at her use of the ‘f’ word.

“I get that you’ve been through a trying time; to say the least. I know you don’t remember it, but when I found out that I was The Key, and not just the crazy, younger sister of The Slayer I always thought I’d been, I ran away for a while. Well, first I almost set the house on fire, and said nasty things to both Buffy and my mom...but I got over it, and you helped me. I thought I was evil, because The Key, was meant to open up the portal to a hell-dimension.”

William looked at her sympathetically, shaking his head. “You couldn’t be evil.”

“Yeah, that’s what you told me back then, too. You said, you’d known evil, and that I wasn’t evil. I told you I didn’t think I was good, and you said, ‘Well, I’m not good, and I’m okay.” William grimaced, and Dawn grinned.

“But you actually were good Dawn. That’s the difference, no matter what I said.”

“No! There isn’t any difference. I was originally meant to be something evil, at least aid and abet evil, but once I was made human, I was more than what I’d been before. Don’t you see? That’s the same with you. You’re human now, plus you have the whole, ‘I saved the world,’ champion thing you could put on your resume. The point is I got over my past; you should too. Buffy loves you. So what if you were a vampire and killed people? I mean that’s what vampires do, right? You got over it even before you got your soul back, why can’t you just get over it now? You’re a good man, William; the man my sister is in love with. Isn’t that enough? I remember a time, when it was all you wanted in this world."

“It’s...complicated,” William said, wincing at the worthless expression.

Dawn stared at him, her eyes growing cold. “Again with the complicated! Well as far as I am concerned the, ‘it’s complicated,’ line is just a cover for someone not wanting to say what’s really going on. Or someone who just doesn’t have the balls to stand and fight for...oh hell, just forget it! Go on, have a nice life wherever you’re going. Write, don’t write, I don’t care. I just wish you didn’t have to keep hurting Buffy again and again. Even if she didn’t tell you about your past for over a year, which by the way, I told her she should have, I don’t think she deserves to keep on being punished for loving you so much that she wanted to protect you.”

“Oh God, Dawn. You think I’m doing this to punish Elizabeth? Nothing could be further from the truth. I never wanted to hurt her...”

“Whatever your reasons, the results are the same. You are hurting my sister, and she doesn’t deserve that; not after everything she’s gone through,” Dawn said, crossing her arms in front of her.

“I know, and I’m sorry if this makes it seem like we’re on opposite sides. Believe me when I tell you that I love Elizabeth, and the last thing I want is to hurt her; more than I already have. Believe me,” William said, looking into Dawn’s eyes.

“How long will you be gone for?” Dawn asked, after a long moment had passed.

“I don’t know.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’d rather not say right now.”

“Are you even coming back?” Dawn drilled him further.

“With all my heart Dawn, I believe so,” William said, after a moment’s hesitation in which he tried to answer the very question he had been trying to avoid in his own mind.

“I don’t want to lose you again, you big dummy,” Dawn said, softly.

“I know. Don’t want to lose you again either, Dawn. I love you; know that, don’t you?” William asked, his head tilted toward her.

She gave him a small, solemn nod.

"I asked Edna to make up some of Elizabeth’s favorite dishes. That’s why I was stopped here. Clem was going to pick them up in about an hour."

“Maybe I’ll just wait for him then,” Dawn said.

“Okay. He’d like that, I’d imagine. Besides, Elizabeth was still asleep when I...”

“You left while she was asleep? You didn’t even say good-bye?” Dawn asked, starting to get angry all over again.

"It’s not like that, Dawn. I didn't just leave, like you make it sound. We said our good-byes last night. We both thought it would be easier that way..."

“Oh. Well, that’s different then,” Dawn said, but then added, “but it’s still not good that you’re leaving!”

William sighed. There was no way he going to make her okay with this. No way to avoid hurting her, as well as Elizabeth.

"I'm sorry, Dawn." William said.

"Don’t. Don’t apologize, William. Just do what you have to so you can come back home."

William nodded, swallowing down the lump in his throat.

“I’ve really got to go now, Dawn. Take care, okay?” William said, tentatively holding out his arms to her. Awkwardly, they hugged one more time before he got into his car.

"You’ll write?" Dawn called out to him.

"Said I would, didn’t I?"

"Then I’m holding you to it!"

William nodded, and drove off. Dawn watched until the DeSoto turned the corner, missing him already.

“Come back soon, Spike,” she said, wiping her eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

10:00AM

JULIAN

Before she even opened her eyes, Buffy could sense the absolute stillness in the house, letting her know William had gone. Although they’d decided to say their good-byes the night before, or had in so many words, she’d still hoped she would see him once more before he left. Her stomach clenched, whether from the remnants of the flu or from the thought of him being out there somewhere unknown, she didn’t know. The results, however, were the same.

Slowly she sat up, the all too familiar feeling of emptiness weighing her down. With effort, she forced herself to rise. After a quick trip to the bathroom, where she avoided looking into the mirror, she made her way into the kitchen. As soon as she walked in, she saw the note on the kitchen table.

Dearest Elizabeth,

Please know that wherever I am, you are always, always in my heart, my mind, my very soul.

Love,

William

Clutching the note, Buffy wearily sat down, trying hard not to give into useless tears; tears she’d been holding back ever since last night. For someone who she’d been so sure would never leave her, in fact, the only man who never would, his death notwithstanding; this letter just seemed the latest in what was becoming a very long list of good-byes they seemed to be forever having.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

10:15AM

William was in the bathroom, packing up his shaving kit, and other essentials, when he heard someone knocking softly at his door. Taking a quick glance out of the window, he saw the car he’d been told to expect.

“Hello, you must be William. I’m Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, and I assume this little fellow is yours?” Wesley said, motioning to the cat, standing next to him.

William watched as Charlie ran between Wesley’s feet, and into the apartment. He turned his attention back to Wesley, shaking his outstretched hand. “Actually Charlie belongs to my landlord.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, just getting a few last things together. Come in, I won’t be but a minute,” he said, returning to the bathroom, to finish gathering up his toiletries.

Wesley looked around the apartment, the book collection being what caught his attention. William came into the living room with his luggage.

“You like poetry, I see,” Wesley remarked.

“Um...yes. Always have, rather.”

“I do as well,” Wesley said, nodding appreciatively. They discussed the various poets for a few minutes. Wesley watched and listened in fascination, as William talked rather passionately about some of his favorites.

“Have you ever written any poetry yourself?” he asked.

Of course, he already knew from the information that Rupert Giles had forwarded to him, that William had been raised in the Victorian Era, and that William Worthington had been known to be fond of writing verse. This information, garnered from the few interviews with acquaintances taken after William had disappeared, had survived in the Scotland Yard archives.

Perversely, that anything of such a mundane nature, as a young man being reported missing by his mother, survived at all, was probably due to the Jack the Ripper killings. Happening around the same time, the authorities had at first sought to keep it quiet. However, soon the heinous and bestial nature of the crimes became the talk of the day in all London society. The consequent public outcry thus forcing Scotland Yard to not only be much more thorough in its attention to detail, but to retain every and all leads in a crime, until that crime was solved.

“Tried my hand at it in the past, wasn’t very good though, I’m afraid,” William had replied, modestly.

“Well, maybe one day when time allows, you’ll permit me to see some of your work,” Wesley said.

“Don’t think so,” William said, shaking his head. As far as he knew, only Elizabeth had ever seen any poetry he’d written - that mostly because it was for her, and about her.

“Well, we’d best be off. I’ll grab these, while you get the cat,” Wesley said, grabbing William’s suitcases.

“Thanks,” William said, then went looking for Charlie. Ten minutes later, with Charlie in tow, he knocked on the Wittman’s door. Ingrid came to the door a few moments later.

“William, what a surprise. And Charlie! Rascal’s been missing for almost two days. Where did you find him?”

“My friend found him on my doorstep when he came to collect me.”

“Thanks for bringing him home,” Richard said, joining Ingrid at the door.

“My pleasure,” he said, handing over Charlie to Professor Wittman. The cat meowed loudly at the indignity of it all.

“Well, I’ve got to be off,” William said, motioning to Wesley’s car. “I’m going out of town for a while, and I don’t know when I’ll be back. I’d still like to keep the apartment, though. If that’s alright with you?”

“Of course, William. You’re still paid up for months yet. Do you know when you’ll be back?”

William shook his head, “I don’t, but if it runs past April, I’ll have my solicitor send you the money.”

“We’re not worried about it, William. You just take care,” Ingrid said.

“I will. Bye now,” William said, giving Charlie a final pet, before heading over to his car. He reached into the back seat, retrieving the laptop that he’d gotten from Elizabeth.

“You ready?” Wes said, as William got into the passenger seat.

“Yes,” William answered, as Wesley started backing down the driveway.

“Wait! I’m sorry, there’s something I forgot.”

“Okay,” Wesley said, putting the car into park.

“Be right back,” William said, dashing up to the stairs.

Once inside, he headed straight for the night table in his bedroom. He opened up the little box containing Elizabeth’s necklace and ring to reassure himself they were still there, then slipped it into his front jeans pocket.

“Get everything you need?” Wesley asked him, as he got back into the car.

“I’m ready now,” William replied.

END CHAPTER 172
 

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