Chapter Seven: I'm Caught in You

Buffy wasn't certain how exactly this trip had come about. It had started with a fairly simple mission: Willow had asked her to go into London to meet an old witch who had a scroll that might help explain the mystery of the amulet. The witch was, apparently, a little eccentric and would only hand over the scroll to the Slayer. Not any Slayer. Just the one.

So Buffy had been preparing to go to London, which would be a good day trip for her. Then William had asked if he could join her. She hadn't been expecting it. The last time they had seen each other had been very awkward, and she'd made every effort to avoid him afterward. He made no mention of their previous sparring, though, and simply told her that he wanted to see if his old house was still there.

She couldn't exactly refuse him. He'd been polite. And it had been several days since the incident. Obviously, if he had asked her, she didn't make him too uncomfortable. There was no reason against it. They could just pretend the whole thing never happened, which was fine by her. It's not like she even thought about him like that. Fighting always got her worked up. Especially when she was fighting somebody with Spike's body.

Okay, that was a bad train of thought. Bad, bad train of thought!

She hadn't dreamt about Spike often after his death. After sparring with William, though, her nights were suddenly filled with tangled memories of their time together. Pale skin slick with sweat leading her to rapturous bliss in the darkest year of her life. Quieter memories of nights spent in his arms before the end of the world, being held by the one who cherished her above all else. Memories of fights past with traded blows and verbal jabs as they danced around each other. All these images blended together in her dreams to form a whirlwind of sensation that left her craving for more when she woke up.

But she woke up alone. Spike was gone.

And now, William was beside her. Walking beside her in the sunlight down one of the streets of London.

It was confusing.

"Getting the scroll shouldn't take long," Buffy said, breaking the silence that had been traveling with them since leaving the castle. "Then we'll see if your house is still around."

She could see William nodding out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head slightly to watch him as he gazed around, eyes searching for some landmark that he might recognize.

"Looks kinda different now, huh?" Buffy asked.

"Yes, quite," he replied softly. "It's a lot cleaner."

Buffy wrinkled her nose. She thought London was pretty dirty in this time. She couldn't imagine what William was talking about. She usually avoided going in to London. It seemed so busy and noisy, and all it did was serve to remind her that the rest of the world was moving around her while she seemed to be stationary.

At least, that was the impression she had gotten in her few visits before.

This visit didn't seem so bad. Yes, it was still crowded and people moved quickly about their business. But she felt like she was moving with them now.

"So you grew up here?" Buffy asked.

"No," William shook his head. "Mother and I actually had just recently moved to London before I appeared here. Previously, we'd been living in Somerset. That's where I grew up."

"Oh," Buffy said, noticing the small magic shop that they'd been looking for. "Here we are."

It was an unassuming store, sitting between two much larger tourist shops. One had to walk down a short flight of steps to get down to the door. It seemed more like someone had built a shop in the alley between two buildings as opposed to being a store in its own right. Buffy was hit with an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia upon entering. Ever since her resurrection, enclosed spaces had been uncomfortable for her. That the inside of the store was dark and musty, smelling of various earthy scents, didn't help matters at all.

In the corner, incense burned and Buffy looked around, trying to find the witch, Amelia, who had the scroll. The store seemed to be empty. William hung back by the door, obviously uncomfortable with the atmosphere.

Buffy moved carefully towards the back of the shop. The oppressive shelves were difficult to navigate around, and the merchandise seemed to fall on the "dangerous" end of the magic spectrum. Her Slayer-senses were all too aware that this might be some sort of trap.

Before she reached the very back of the shop, though, a small older woman came out from behind a curtained employee's area. The woman stood shorter than Buffy, which was pretty damn short. Buffy was startled to see that the woman's eyes were a milky white. She was blind.

"The Slayer," the woman said in greeting. It wasn't a question but a declaration.

Buffy looked back to William, who was still standing by the entrance. "Yeah, that's me."

The woman grabbed her hand with a lightning speed that caught Buffy by surprise. "Of course it is. Come on back, and we'll discuss that scroll, dear."

"Uh," Buffy glanced at William again. "Well, I have a - "

"You go on. I'll wait out here," William called, staying firmly where he was.

"Yes," Amelia agreed. "Neither of us really want him, anyway, now do we?"

Buffy studied the other woman's face, curious about her words. A gentle tug from the smaller woman, though, and Buffy was led into the backroom.

Boxes lined the walls, and a round table sat in the middle. Not surprisingly, there was a crystal ball in the center of the table. Gee, cliché much?

Amelia released her hold on Buffy and moved to a cabinet in the corner, rummaging through various artifacts.

"They were gonna send one of those new Slayers. You know the ones I mean. But I told them that I would only give this to you. Buffy Summers, the Chosen One."

"I heard," Buffy said. "So, how'd you get this scroll thingy?"

"I collect them. I run a magic shop, dear. I always have a bunch of scrolls. Ah, here we are!" Amelia pulled out a ragged scroll from one of the drawers. She held it up as if to inspect it, yet she was staring with sightless eyes.

Okay, that was a little creepy.

"About that amulet," Amelia said, rolling the scroll and handing it to Buffy.

Buffy opened it slightly to look at the foreign lettering strewn about the page. "It's not in English."

"Of course not."

"Do you know what it says?"

"Yes, but that's for you and your friends to discover. I'm just a provider, so to speak."

Buffy rolled her eyes, though she wasn't entirely certain that Amelia wouldn't notice. She carefully tucked the scroll into her handbag and looked back up. Amelia was gazing at her expectantly.

"Uh...we're willing to pay you whatever amount you feel is fair," Buffy said, preparing to reach for the Council credit card.

Amelia waved her hand. "I don't think monetary compensation is fair."

Buffy stopped. "Okay." She wasn't sure where this was leading.

"What I would ask instead, is for the Chosen One to remember her duty. Stop lollygagging around and do your damn job," Amelia said, speaking in a matter-of-fact manner as if she hadn't just verbally punched Buffy in the gut.

"Excuse me?" Buffy replied. "What the hell are you talking about? You don't even know me!"

"Oh, I wish I didn't. How I wish I didn't know that you are the one we're all depending on. Stop lingering in the past and get on with it."

"Get on with what? Lingering? Huh?"

"You are unreasonably dense, dear."

Buffy threw her hands up. "Okay. That's it! Thanks for the scroll. Bye!"

She turned and pushed aside the curtain, walking quickly back to the entrance. William gave her a quizzical look, but she just grabbed his arm and dragged him with her as she stormed out.

They were a couple blocks down before Buffy had calmed down enough to walk at a more leisurely pace.

"What was that about?" William finally caught up to her, breathing heavily from the brisk walk.

Buffy could still feel the heat in her cheeks from anger at Amelia's words. She hated it when people got all advicey to her. Especially when she didn't ask for it. Get on with it? With what?

"Nothing," Buffy replied to William. "Just...she...it's nothing. Forget it." She waved her arm as if to brush aside the woman's words, but Buffy felt them still hanging in the air. She took a deep breath to calm down. "Let's go see if your house is still around. Where would it be?"

William looked unsure, but didn't ask any further questions. He just nodded in acknowledgement. "Dulwich."

Along the way, they stopped at a small cafe and had lunch. Buffy found herself forgetting the awkwardness caused by the event a few nights ago and allowed herself to just enjoy William's company. He had such an enthusiasm for everything. Probably because most of it was new to him. It was the same joy for life that Buffy had seen, albeit somewhat muted, in Spike.

Amelia had said she was "lingering". Lingering on what? Well, that was obvious. It was staring her in the face every time she glanced up from her plate. Spike was always with her, even though he'd been gone for months.

It was useless not to compare William to Spike. She'd tried. Oh, how she'd tried. But every mannerism, every step, every shy smile reminded her of Spike. It told her that the man sitting across from her wasn't so far away from the man she'd lost as she'd thought.

Maybe that's what Amelia had meant. Maybe she meant that Buffy should stop trying to avoid it and get on with it. With William. With Spike. The amulet had granted them some sort of future together. She should take advantage of it.

"Buffy?"

Buffy's thoughts were interrupted by William's tentative question. She blinked, realizing that she'd been staring at him for the past several moments. Boy, that was sure to make him uncomfortable.

She laughed nervously, looking down at her empty plate. "Sorry. Just sorta spaced out."

When she looked up, he was tilting his head to one side as if he could see her emotions and thoughts. She felt all air leave her lungs at the gesture, suddenly struck by how right this could be with him. How it might have been meant to be.

"Shall we go?" William asked, standing and offering his hand to help her up.

They had to go to Victoria station to catch the train to Dulwich and then walk to where William's house had been. It didn't take long to realize that it wasn't there anymore.

William gaped at the large, trendy shopping area that was in front of them. A clothing shop stood next to a jeweler, which was next to a bookshop. Pedestrians bustled in between. Buffy stood by his side, not sure what to say.

"It's gone," William muttered to himself.

"Well," Buffy said, trying to think of something comforting. "It was over a hundred years ago."

William's shoulders sagged. He glanced around, finding a bench on the sidewalk and sitting down on it. Buffy sat next to him. He continued to stare at the masses of people going in and out of the shops, utterly oblivious that they were walking on the place where the man had lived.

"We'd just moved there," William said.

"Hey, I don't know if it helps, but my house is gone, too. It kinda got destroyed in an apocalypse that didn't take," Buffy said, trying for cheerful.

William turned to look at her, obviously puzzled at her statement. Well, that didn't go well. Seems Buffy needed some lessons in tact from Anya or somebody.

"Sorry," Buffy said. "I'm just not sure what else to tell you."

"It's alright," William said. His voice was flat, belying the sincerity in his words. "As you said, it was old. And the city would most likely benefit from another shopping area."

Buffy shook her head. "Doesn't feel right, does it?"

"No, it doesn't." He paused, hesitating before speaking further. "I worry about my mother. She was ill when I came here. I just wonder what became of her."

A shock went down Buffy's spine, and her muscles tensed. The night he was taken from his time, the other William became a vampire. Spike had never told her about his mother, but she wouldn't be surprised to hear that she had fallen victim to a newly vamped William. She couldn't tell that to this William, though.

"What was she sick with?"

"Consumption. Tuberculosis. We'd moved to London to be closer to better medical care for her." He wasn't looking at her. Instead, he was staring down at his lap, eyes distant in remembrance. "She must have been so worried when I didn't return home. I wish I could have spared her that." He squeezed his eyes shut tightly before looking up and opening them again. "I wish I knew what had happened to her."

Buffy could almost feel the frustration emanating from him. She felt so damn useless. She wasn't so good with the comforting thing.

Except...

Struck with sudden inspiration, Buffy rustled through her purse for her cellphone. She pulled it out and punched the speed dial. A glance at William showed him to be staring at her in curiosity. She held up one finger.

"Hello?" Willow's voice came on the line.

"Hey, Will. You by your computer?" Buffy asked. She could at least try to give William some information.

"Uh, yeah, hold on."

There were some general moving noises as Willow walked to her computer desk. Buffy could hear her talking to Kennedy in the background. Finally, Willow's voice came back clearly.

"Yeah, whatcha need?"

"Could you check to see if you can find out what happened to William's mother? You know, after he got brought here? Her name was..." Buffy looked over at William, realizing she didn't know the woman's name.

"Anne Pratt," William supplied.

Buffy smiled. Figures. His mother had her middle name. Bringing the phone back to her ear, Buffy repeated the name for Willow and informed her what district they were in.

There was some tapping on the other line, along with some general Willow-noises. Finally, after several minutes, Willow spoke, "Hey, I'm checking the censuses that were taken during that time. Anne Pratt's not showing up on the 1881 Census for London."

Buffy frowned. That's what she had been hoping not to hear."Do you have any idea what happened?"

There was some more clicking and humming from Willow. "Hmmm. They don't have a death certificate on record for her. I can keep digging if you want, but -"

"No, it's okay, Will. We'll be back later." Buffy didn't need to know any more. She could already guess what had happened. Most likely, a very violent fledgling William had killed her and disposed of the body somehow.

Buffy disconnected the call and carefully put her phone back in her purse before turning to William. He was waiting eagerly for her to speak.

"William," Buffy said. "Willow searched the records. It doesn't seem like your mom survived long after you arrived here."

William sat back, looking away. Buffy let him process that. She knew that he had known his mother was dead. Obviously, his mother had died. But she had, apparently, died not one year after William had been turned. That didn't bode well for her fate once the original William had been vamped.

Buffy couldn't tell him that.

"Miss Rosenberg wasn't able to find out how she died?" he asked, still not looking up.

Buffy shook her head. "No."

He nodded in understanding. "Well, she was ill. And without me to take care of -"

He stopped himself abruptly, clamping his mouth shut, and Buffy could tell that he was doing so to hold in a sob. On instinct, Buffy grabbed his hand and held it. She gave a slight squeeze, trying to give him some sort of assurance that everything would be okay.

And they sat in silence on the bench in front of where William's house had once been.

***

It was well into the evening by the time they returned to the castle. They had briefly stopped by Willow's cubby to drop off the scrolls, and then William had insisted on walking Buffy to her cubby.

William was tired after the trip into London. Particularly given the information, or lack thereof, that he'd discovered about his mother and home. He wanted nothing more than to retire to his cubby and sleep a hopefully dreamless sleep.

However, he was unable to refuse when Buffy invited him into her cubby for coffee. Her gentle understanding and sympathy had been a salve for him today as he'd faced how very much the world had changed from his time. He doubted that he would have been able to refuse her anything she might ask for.

He had been delighted when she'd agreed to allow him to accompany her into London. Ever since his conversation with Xander, William had been considering ways to forward his relationship with Buffy. She had been avoiding him, however, which had discouraged him at first. However, he quickly realized that her avoidance was due to her own fears rather than any distaste for him.

When he had heard that she was taking a trip in to the city, he had immediately asked Mr. Giles if he could go along with her. William was happy that he'd been able to use this outing to get past their initial nervousness so that he could pursue the relationship further.

Buffy was sitting down with two cups of coffee when he reached into his pocket for a kerchief to wipe his glasses with. As he did so, a scrap of paper fluttered out and onto the floor.

William froze, reflexes sluggish from the day's exertions. Buffy stared at the paper and looked up at him. "What's that?" she asked.

Spurred into action by her question, he hastily bent down to pick up the scrap, cramming it back into his pocket. "It's nothing," he said as he sat down next to her on the couch. "Just some piece of scrap paper. Absolutely nothing."

Buffy pressed her lips together, scrunching her eyebrows in skepticism. "Uh-huh. You wrote some bad things about me, didn't you?" she teased.

William couldn't help but smile at that. "I wouldn't be able to think of a single bad thing I could write about you," he replied.

He was reluctant for her to know about the poem he'd been working on. He did feel a strong desire to be with Buffy. A desire above and beyond anything he'd felt before. And while he was eager to pursue a relationship with her, it frightened him to reveal his heart to her in such a manner at this point. It was this feeling that left him terrified of her rejection should she read his poetry.

Then she smiled at him. A genuine smile that displayed all her radiant beauty and lit up the dark room. He felt his own heart light up with joy at the look on her face. A look that he had granted her in affording her such a small compliment. He wanted to see that smile again. And often.

He glanced down, summoning the courage that he'd had once before when confessing his feelings to Cecily back in his own time. This time would be different. Buffy was not Cecily, and the piddling feelings he felt for the brunette were trivial compared to what he now felt for Buffy. This time had to be different.

"Actually," he looked back up. "It's...it's a poem. I wrote a poem...for you."

He was dismayed to see the smile disappear from her face. However, she didn't seem displeased. Instead, she seemed to be considering something for a few moments. A few moments that lasted an eternity for William.

"Read it to me?" she asked finally.

He stood, fetching the worn paper from his pocket and straightening the folds. He focused his gaze on the paper, trying hard not to glance at Buffy as he read the words that he'd pored over for the past few days.


"As darkness hath fallen upon a gaze so tired;
The sun shall rise up, bright as fire.
Her beauty and strength do cause my heart to swell;
And light my soul afire and cannot be quelled.
For stronger feelings towards her, there are none;
I simply know that she is the one."


As he finished, he slowly lowered the paper, tentatively looking at Buffy to gauge her reaction. There was a small smile on her face. A faraway look of remembered happiness, and her eyes were large and glistening.

She took a deep breath after a few moments, "William, that was...beautiful. I don't know what to say, really."

He sat down as his spirit soared. She liked his poetry. His bloody awful poetry that, by all rights, nobody should like. She thought it was beautiful.

"You don't need to say anything, Buffy," he said. "I just wrote what I feel...about you. I love you."

He half expected total rejection of the type he'd experienced before. He expected to be asked to leave. Instead, he received no immediate response. Just a look of almost-resigned contentment and indecision that left Buffy silent for several agonizing moments.

He opened his mouth to try to soften whatever damage he'd done with his confession, and was surprised when Buffy sprang forward on the couch, kissing him hard. Her hands tangled in his hair as her mouth claimed his own.

William pulled away, holding Buffy by her shoulders. "Buffy, this is - "

"William," Buffy interrupted, breathing heavily. She touched his cheek, caressing his skin. She took off his glasses and carelessly tossed them onto the coffee table without looking. Leaning forward, she kissed his lower lip, nipping at him with her teeth. "We both want this."

She looked up, meeting his eyes. William could see the complete adoration in them. Adoration for him. That she felt for him.

When she kissed him again, he didn't stop her. There was, after all, no use denying their desires.

TBC...