The Morning of Monday, June 29^th, 2004

“Drusilla!” Spike exclaimed, rolling to the other side of the bed away from her and standing up.  “But … you’re … I … dusted …” Spike stammered, before remembering he wasn’t in his dimension; Dru was still alive…or undead, in this one.

“My baby’s not happy to see his Mummy?” Dru whined with a pout. “And I came so far to find you again … and daddy and grandmummy are near … soon, we’ll all be a family again.  Don’t you want that, William?  Our family back?”

Spike pursed his lips together, grabbed the sheet up off the bed and wrapped it around his waist, tucking one end in to secure it.  “Dru … I’ve changed … things are different now…”

“I know, my sweet boy, I can smell that wretched soul …” Drusilla told him, running her hands over her red and black, lacy dress and down her body. “Mummy will fix it …”

“No … you don’t understand …” Spike began. “Dru, listen … I’m not even from this bloody dimension – I’m not your Spike.”

“I know exactly who you are, my sweet … it’s you who’s forgotten yourself … lost yourself in that Slayer,” Dru retorted.

“Dru, Buffy and I have…” Spike started.

“Nothing!  You have nothing!” Dru informed him, cutting him off.

“That Slayer tramp’s gone … you never need to think of her again, my pet,” Dru told him, as she moved closer to where Spike was standing.

“What did you do!?” Spike demanded, moving towards her quickly, grabbing her by her arms with a steel grip and shaking her. “What. Did. You. Do!?”  he asked again, punctuating every word with a hard shake of the thin brunette.

“I didn’t have to do anything … she left you … left you to die all alone in that horrible place. I could feel your pain – I still feel you, my Spike – do you still feel me?” Dru asked him, looking into his eyes.

“You know I don’t – being in your head is like ridin’ the Tea Cups while on a very bad acid trip … spins your bloody head, it does,” Spike informed her, dropping his hold on her arms and twirling one finger around in circles near his temple.

“And she didn’ leave me – I sent her away … as if it’s any of your bloody business,” Spike continued as he backed away from her and started looking for his clothes.  “Just give me m’ clothes and boots back, and I’ll be on m’ way …”

Dru stepped in front of him and looked into his eyes. “Be in my eyes, be in me …” she started.

Spike smirked. “You can’t thrall me, I’m still a vampire, you barmy bird …” he informed her.

“I can thrall anything with a soul, my sweet William,” Dru informed him. “You’ve been under her spell since you first set eyes on her … took my deadly boy away from me, she did – I’m taking you back…”

“Pffffttt,” Spike snorted as he started to step away from her.

“Be in my eyes, be in me …” Dru said again, pointing two fingers at Spike’s eyes and then to hers before he could move away from her. “See from the past, your heart is mine.

“We're moving back... back... back in time, unweaving the tapestry as we go.  Cutting the threads,” Dru continued as she held Spike’s eyes with hers and made a scissoring motion with her fingers. “No more Sunnydale - no more Buffy.  Memories of the Slayer are alllll gone.” Dru changed her hand motion from cutting to making small circles in front of Spike’s eyes in a counter clockwise motion, as if turning back the hands of a clock.

“Going further back now - no more Prague.  No wicked mob ever broke and weakened your dark goddess.”

Dru continued to hold Spike’s eyes captive with hers … she knew it was working, she knew that he was going back in time with her by the glazed look in his eyes.  She would have her deadly boy back again very soon; she could virtually hear the ticking of the clock as it turned backwards for Spike – back before Dani and Billy, back before Annie, back before Buffy … back even before they had ever even heard of Sunnydale.

“Now we can begin anew and pick up the stitch juuust before things went bad, when you and I were the center of the universe, bashing and slashing and loving from sundown 'til sunup. 

“Be in my eyes, be in me … your heart is mine,” she repeated, sealing the spell, and Spike’s expression softened as he looked deep into his sire’s eyes and fell utterly and completely under her thrall.

“My sweet, ripe plum,” Spike growled, taking her by the arms again, pulling her to him, and capturing Dru’s lips in a hungry kiss.

**~**

“That’s all of them?” Buffy asked the nurse.

“Yes, that’s it,” the nurse confirmed.

They’d looked at all the men that were brought in from the battlefield, but Spike wasn’t among them.  She and Tara had checked on Giles and Wesley, too … they were both hurt badly, but in good spirits, considering.  The doctors said they would both make full recoveries.

“Ok, I need to get back out there, then,” Buffy said, looking at Tara. “We need a ride … or a car …”

“I don’t think they’ll let you back in …” the nurse informed her. “They’re pretty hush-hush with the whole thing.”

“They’ll let me back in,” Buffy informed her as she started walking towards the elevators, Tara following closely behind.

**~**

In front of the hospital there was a long line of ambulances, Jeeps and trucks of every description.  Buffy watched a soldier get out of a Jeep and leave the keys in it; when he’d gone inside, she jumped into the driver’s seat and turned the key – nothing happened.

“You have to press the clutch in,” Tara instructed her from the passenger seat.

Buffy furrowed her brow and looked down at her feet … manual transmission. 

“You do know how to drive a stick, don’t you?” Tara asked.

Buffy raised her eyebrows and looked at Tara with a twinkle in her eye. “I think so, Spike’s never complained …”

Tara’s mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide. “BUFFY! That’s not what I meant!” Tara exclaimed as her face turned red.

Buffy gave the witch a little smile before turning her attention back to the Jeep. “Spike showed me once … you push in the clutch …” Buffy began, pushing in the clutch, and turning the key.  The Jeep rumbled to life.

“Then you put it in first,” Buffy continued, looking at the gear shift to find where first gear was and moving the stick to the proper position. “Then you let the clutch out and push on the gas. Easy!”

The Jeep lurched forward, nearly giving them both whiplash, before the engine sputtered and died.

“Why don’t you let me drive,” Tara offered. “I learned how to handle sticks … umm, manual transmissions, back home.”

**~**

Dru wrapped her arms around Spike’s neck and pressed her body against his as she returned his kiss.  Spike pulled her harder against him with strong arms as his tongue delved into her mouth, tasting, exploring and dancing with hers. 

But something was wrong … Spike suddenly stopped and stepped back away from Dru, pulling out of her embrace.  He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

“What’s wrong, my Spike?” Dru asked him.

“Somethin’ … feel like I’ve forgotten somethin’.  Like a dream you’re in the middle of and you wake up and try to remember, but it just slips through your grasp like wisps of smoke,” Spike told her rubbing a hand across his eyes.

“Feels like it was something important … and now I can’t think what it was …”

Dru moved back against him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m sure it wasn’t important, my Spike … if it was important, you wouldn’t have forgotten it.”

“Yeah … yeah, I suppose …” Spike acquiesced. “Feeling a bit peckish … maybe it’s just playing with my mind. Can't remember the last time I ate.”

Dru smiled. “Would my baby like a little snack?  There’s a lovely French bistro not far … they have the most delicious waiters … and we can get there through the tunnels,” she suggested, stepping back away from him. 

Spike looked at her, tilting his head and furrowing his brow, her meaning clear – they could eat a waiter or two.  But that didn’t sound right, either. Certainly that’s what they did; humans were just happy meals with legs … so why didn’t that sound right?

“Do you remember Paris, my sweet?” Dru asked him with a smile, pulling Spike from his thoughts. “We dined on the Champs-Élysées – a cute young couple, they were … then danced under the Arc de Triomphe … I miss Paris, don’t you, Spike?”

Spike smiled and his eyes smoldered as the memory of their time in Paris returned to him. “Mmmmm … I do remember.  I ravaged you high above the city at the top of the bloody Eiffel Tower … we had the lift operator for dessert, as I recall…” he reminisced, taking her back in his arms and swaying his hips from side to side with hers in a slow, silent dance.

“We can do that again … we can go anywhere, do anything,” Dru whispered against his ear.  “You were always meant to be my destiny …” Drusilla murmured before taking his lips in a soft kiss.

My destiny … my destiny … The words rang in Spike’s head as Dru wrapped her arms around his neck and sucked his lower lip into her mouth.  The words were so familiar, yet seemed so far away … something deep inside felt wrong.  He couldn’t touch it, he couldn’t pin down what it was … it was like a ghost that he couldn’t quite see, but could feel fleetingly, as it moved through his mind.

“I … I don’t know – maybe I should just lay down a while. Probably this bump on m’ head … musta rattled my brain a bit …” Spike suggested, pulling away from her and touching a hand to the painful bump on his head as he moved back towards the bed.

“You rest, my love … Miss Edith will keep watch over you,” Dru told him, as she moved to the dresser full of dolls and turned one so it was directly facing the bed.  “Your princess will bring you a lovely little snack. I am your princess, aren’t I, Spike?"

Spike smiled at Dru. “You are,” he confirmed. “You’re my deadly, dark princess …”

Spike laid back down on the bed and Dru slipped out the door of the dark room, leaving him alone.  Spike laid his left arm across his eyes as he tried to remember what it was that he’d forgotten.  Out of habit, his thumb went to his left ring finger and started fiddling with … nothing.

Spike held his hand up and looked at it … something was missing – it just felt funny … it felt wrong, but he couldn’t remember what was missing.  He saw the scar on his palm and turned his hand over and back again … examining it from both sides.  He should remember how he got that … but no matter how hard he tried, it seemed just beyond his grasp.

**~**

Tara parked the Jeep about a block away from the cordoned off area around the Hyperion near a sewer entrance.

“You wait here,” Buffy instructed Tara. “Just in case I need to get bailed out of jail … or the brig or whatever the Army throws people in that are caught playing in their sandboxes.”

“Be careful,” Tara advised as Buffy dropped down into the sewer through the manhole next to the Jeep. 

“Always,” Buffy affirmed before Tara slid the heavy cover back over the hole.

Buffy wasn’t really familiar with the sewers in L.A., but she knew that the Hyperion had several that led into it … that’s how Angel had always gotten around when he ran A.I. from there, so she started walking in the general direction of the hotel. 

She doubted that the Army would even think of guarding the sewers, and she was right. The Army certainly had enough trouble above ground to keep them busy without adding the tunnels to their agenda.  She figured she could come up into the Hyperion, maybe find Illyria and see if she’d seen Spike.  If not, maybe now Buffy could sense him, now that Rome!Spike wasn’t near enough to be sending conflicting signals.  Barring that, she’d just have to start looking – he couldn’t be far away, and she was sure he wasn’t dusted … she’d know if he was dust, somehow, she’d know.

**~**

Spike got up out of the bed, turned on the only light in the room, and started looking around.  He found his clothes stuffed behind some boxes that were piled in the corner of the room.  They were covered in blood and dirt and ewwww, what is that? It was evident that he’d been wearing them not long ago, the holes in the shirt and duster matched the bandages on his body.  He tried to remember how he got those … it had to have been just a short time ago … but he couldn’t recall it.

As Spike examined the clothes, he found a wallet in the pocket of the jeans and pulled it out.  Inside, he found his driver’s license … when had he gotten a driver’s license and why? 

William Weckerly, it read … huh, born in 1971 … “pfffffttt,” Spike snorted quietly as he examined the license … it listed Crawford Street in Sunnydale, California as his address.

Sunnydale … Sunnydale … Sunnydale, Spike ran the word around in his mind then said it out loud a few times. “What the bloody hell is going on …” he muttered to himself - unable to figure out why he had a driver’s license or why it would list someplace called Sunnydale as his home. 

“A vampire living in Sunnydale … that would be bloody ironic …” he observed quietly, before sliding it back into the wallet.

Spike looked through the rest of the wallet and found an ATM card – now THAT would be useful … if he knew the bloody PIN number that went with it … and about fifty dollars in cash. 

When Spike picked up his boots from behind the boxes he noticed some pictures lying on the floor underneath them and picked them up.

The first was a picture of a girl, perhaps five years old, who looked strikingly familiar. She had long, dark, curly hair framing an angelic face with high cheekbones and crystal blue eyes.  She was sitting in front of a Christmas tree and smiling into the camera, her big blue eyes twinkling as she hugged a doll against her chest.  Spike rubbed a hand on the back of his neck as he looked at the picture. The girl looked like … like him.  

Spike shook his head and looked at the next photo; it was of two tow-headed babies, obviously twins.  The both of them together wouldn’t have been enough for a bloody snack…

Where had the pictures come from? Were they in the wallet when he nicked it?  Or left in the room from some other ‘tenant’? Probably they didn’t have anything to do with him at all.

“Bloody coincidence is all…” he muttered, trying to figure why the dark haired girl looked so much like him.

The last picture he found was of him … but it had been ripped in half … whoever else that had been in the picture was missing.  He looked around the floor for the rest of the picture, but didn’t find it. Finally, near the bed he found the rest, ripped into even smaller pieces, in the garbage bin. 

Spike laid the pieces out and lined them up … it was a blonde woman – attractive enough – they appeared to be at a party or something … they were both smiling and obviously close. Spike stared at the picture for a long time, trying with all his might to remember the woman, to remember the party. 

She looked familiar, he felt like he should know her … but no matter how he tried, he could only get flashes of recognition that skittered across his mind too fast for him to grab onto.

Spike took all the photos and put them in the wallet … just in case they meant something – he wasn’t sure what they would mean, but his mind wasn’t particularly clear at the moment. 

Not finding any other clothes in the room, he pulled the dirty jeans on, slid the wallet in his back pocket, pulled his boots on, and headed for the door. Someone, somewhere had answers – he’d find Dru and then figure out what was going on.  Maybe a trip to this Sunnydale place was in order…

**~**

Buffy pushed open the heavy door that she was sure led to the Hyperion Hotel, based on her Slayer senses, uncanny sense of direction, and ability to judge distances … and the fact that there was sign painted on it that said, “Angel Investigations, We Help the Hopeless, (Cash, Checks & Credit Cards Accepted).”

Buffy rolled her eyes. Some things never change – Cordy and Anya would’ve gotten on famously … as long as you didn’t lay a dollar down between them with a sticky-note that said, “Free” on it. Suddenly a picture of Anya and Cordy wrestling over a dollar came to Buffy’s mind; she smiled and shook the image out of her head … Xander would like that, he’d probably add Jell-O and string bikinis into the mix, though …

Buffy walked down a narrow passageway and through another door and stopped in her tracks.  There was a huge swimming pool there … Angel had a huge swimming pool in the basement of the hotel!  Buffy shook her head … Angel was just full of all kinds of surprises.  The pool had obviously seen better days … the water was green and slimy … but at one time it must have been all the rage.

Buffy was still looking at the pool when her spidey senses started tingling up and down her spine … Spike – no doubt, it was Spike. She looked up and saw Spike descending a set of stairs on the far end of the large room. 

“SPIKE!” she screamed as relief washed over her and she took off running towards him at full speed.

Spike looked up when he heard his name and saw someone in Army fatigues barreling at him – something in the deep recesses of his mind told him that was not a good thing; Army = danger. 

When Buffy got close, she threw herself at Spike, intending on taking him in a bear hug, but he stepped to the side and she sailed past him and landed hard on the concrete floor. 

“What the fuck!?” Buffy exclaimed as she managed to turn onto her back, but Spike was on her in a second, straddling her hips with his and pinning her down with one arm pressing hard across her throat.

“Spike … it’s me,” she managed to get out before her airway was cut off.  “Sp…i…ke,” Buffy croaked out as she pushed against his arm across her throat. 

When it was clear that he wasn’t letting up, Buffy kicked him up and over her head. He landed on his back with a hard thud behind her. She sucked in a long breath and started coughing as she struggled to sit up and turn to face him.

Buffy rubbed a hand across her throat as she got up off the floor and faced him.  Spike had jumped up and was looking at her … his body language said he was ready to attack again at any moment – she’d seen that look too many times before during their training sessions.

“Spike,” she tried to talk calmly, but it came out more of a gravely whisper, “it’s me … it’s Buffy.”

“Don’ know no Daffy,” Spike told her as a realization hit him. “You’re a bloody Slayer! No Army brat could do what you just done!”

“Spike … it’s me! Buffy!” she said again, her voice stronger. She didn’t take her eyes off him, though; he hadn’t relaxed his stance, if anything, he’d gotten more tense, ready to spring at any second. “Your wife? Buf-fy!” she repeated, enunciating her name slowly.

“What the bloody hell are you on about? Ya know, Slayers shouldn’t smoke that wacky weed – make’s ya daft,” Spike informed her as he began circling to the right. 

Buffy followed him, circling to her right, as well, and keeping a safe distance between them.  What the hell is wrong with him? she wondered silently as they continued to move, slowly circling one another. 

Buffy looked him over – he had on his jeans and boots – they were all covered in blood and crud, just like hers had been … but the rest of him was clean.  His bare chest and back, face and arms – all clean, and he had bandages on his back.  Could this possibly be yet another Spike from yet another dimension?  But surely any Spike from any dimension would at least know who she was … wouldn’t they?

Spike watched the Slayer closely as he began circling her … if he could get her back to the pool, he could charge at her and have the advantage in the water – she had to breathe, he didn’t.  He watched her watch him and saw a range of emotions run over her face from concern to confusion.  This was definitely the daftest Slayer he’d ever faced … this’ll be like shooting fish in a soddin’ barrel.

Spike stopped, closed his eyes, and shook his head a moment as he heard a strange woman’s voice in his head … You know, I never understood that saying . . . if you already have the fish in a barrel, why would you shoot them? Wouldn't that put a hole in the barrel?  Why would you shoot fish in the first place? Who shoots fish, anyway? 

Buffy watched Spike as his expression changed from stalking and sizing her up to confusion, as he closed his eyes and shook his head as if to clear it.  Then she noticed a large bump on his head … had he gotten hit in the head during the battle and was suffering from amnesia now?  But certainly he knew what a Slayer was … he just didn’t seem to remember her…maybe she could jog his memory.

“Spike … are you alright?” Buffy asked him, her voice soft and full of concern. Spike’s eyes shot back open – he’d almost forgotten about the Slayer being there, so lost was he in trying to figure out what that voice was and why it seemed so familiar.

“Perfect,” he retorted. “You, on the other hand, will make the third notch in my belt very shortly.”

“Spike … look at me – don’t I look familiar to you?” Buffy asked, standing up straight, out of her defensive stance and holding her arms out to the side.

“Seen one Slayer, seen ‘em all, pet,” Spike told her, but in truth, she did seem familiar somehow – in fact, it felt like he had just seen her somewhere recently, but he couldn’t place where or when.

“Spike, I’m your wife – we’re married.  Don’t you remember?  We have kids – Annie, William and Danielle. Surely you remember them!”

“Pfffffttt!” Spike snorted. “Everyone knows vamps don’t make babies, Slayer. And a vamp married to a Slayer, that’d be even more ironic than a vamp living in a place called Sunnydale!

“Where are they getting Slayer’s these days?  From the bloody loony ward?  The nice young men in the clean white coats selling nut jobs to the soddin’ Council, now?”  

Spike stopped again and closed his eyes as he heard his own voice echo in his head, I’ve been seriously considerin' thinning the Slayer herd a bit; they’re driving me round the sodding bend! The nice men in white coats will be comin' to haul me away any bloody day now.

Spike covered his ears and concentrated, trying to hear more – to see who it was he was talking to – what he was talking about, but the memory faded as quickly as it came, leaving nothing but emptiness in its place.  One thing was certain, this Slayer was definitely gonna drive him ‘round the bend if he let her keep talkin’ … nuttier ‘an a fruit cake, she is.

“Spike, please listen to me … you got hit on the head. Let me take you …” Buffy tried to think where to take him – she was gonna say  ‘home’, but ‘home’ didn’t exist in this dimension, and she wasn’t sure yet how they were getting home. Then she thought about the hospital, but that would definitely be interesting when they tried to take his pulse, “… somewhere safe,” she finally decided on, “where we can get help and get you better.  Maybe Angel …”

“Angel!?” Spike exclaimed, looking at her with suspicion and loathing. “What’s this, a bloody conspiracy … first Dru wanting Darla and the wanker back and now you?! 

“Ain’t seen the git since he tossed me off that bloody sub in the middle of the fucking ocean and suddenly he’s everybody’s friend!?”

“Dru!?” Buffy asked, her eyes going wide.  “You’ve seen Dru?” This is worse than I thought, not only has he lost his memory, he’s hallucinating, too.

“Yeah … and if you look behind ya’, you’ll see ‘er, too,” Spike told her with a smirk, standing up straight and hooking his thumbs over his belt buckle.

“Spike, you’re hallucinating, Dru’s…” Buffy started as she turned around to show him that no one was behind her, “… here!” 

Buffy instinctively stepped backwards, right into Spike, as Drusilla reached for her.  Spike wrapped his arms around Buffy, pinning her arms, and holding her against him, as Dru walked slowly up to them.

“I see my sweet boy has been hunting without inviting mummy … bad William!” Dru admonished him, pointing a finger at him. “You must learn to share.  ‘Share and share alike’ is what my mum always taught me … what did your mum teach you, William?”

“Ladies first …” Spike told Dru with a smirk as he held Buffy captive in his arms. 

“Spike! Let me go! Spike!” Buffy screamed at him. She struggled to get free of his hold as Drusilla stepped closer.  Buffy could feel Spike vamp out and see Drusilla do the same as the raven haired vampiress got within arm’s reach of Buffy.

Buffy leaned back against Spike’s chest, using his arms around her as leverage, and lifted her legs, kicking Drusilla in the chest with both feet and sending Dru stumbling backwards.  When Buffy’s feet came back down to the ground, she bent over quickly and flung Spike over her head, but he kept a hold of her and pulled her down with him.

Buffy did a half somersault and landed on top of Spike, his arms still pinning hers and holding her back against his chest.  Buffy raised her head up and slung it back quickly, hitting Spike hard in the nose with the back of her head. He screamed in pain and let go of her with one of his arms as his hand went instinctively to his now bleeding and broken nose, allowing Buffy to roll off him. 

As Buffy began to stand up, Spike roared in anger and launched himself at her, tackling her around the waist and landing them both in the deep end of the pool.  Spike kicked his feet, driving them down deeper and deeper in the murky water of the long abandoned swimming pool. 

Spike had knocked the air out of her when he tackled her and Buffy had inhaled a huge gulp of water when they hit in the pool.   She struggled to get free of his grasp, kicking her legs and trying to push her arms against him – she had to get back to the surface – she had to get air. At the same time she tried not to cough, which she knew would only bring more water into her lungs, but she was unable to stop the automatic reflex. 

As Buffy’s body continued to cough, trying to expel the water from her lungs, more and more came in and she could feel all her strength drain out of her muscles as they struggled to get oxygen.  She felt her back hit the bottom of the pool, Spike’s arms still wrapped tightly around her, pinning her down as the last bit of air escaped her lungs and floated slowly up towards the surface.

Buffy’s lungs burned as the murky water filled them … she could see the air bubbles floating up and away from them - almost like a dream and could feel Spike’s strong arms around her. Her body felt heavy, leaden – she couldn’t fight any longer, she had nothing left. 

She always assumed she would die in Spike’s arms one day … but this isn’t exactly how she had envisioned it. She’d drowned once before in her life … it suddenly seemed fitting that the last vampire in the Master’s line would be the one to drown her again, almost like destiny.

Buffy could barely see Spike’s face above hers in the dirty water … she longed for his blue eyes, but could only see the golden eyes of the demon. 

You were always meant to be my destiny … I still love you, William … I’ll always love you, Buffy sent to him through their bond before her eyes closed. 

The blue eyes of their babies danced across Buffy’s mind, first Annie then Billy and Dani … then morphed into Spike’s. 

Suddenly, Buffy’s mind had her hanging high above the alley behind the Hyperion, Spike’s hand held hers in an iron grip as she looked up into his bluer than blue eyes. Spike smiled at her, a sweet, loving smile, and released his grip on her hand. As Buffy fell backwards towards the dirty pavement below, Spike’s face receding from view, her mind went dark.