Part Two

The Wild, Wild West

I’m gonna kill Chronozon when I get my hands on the bleeding bastard!

This and many similar thoughts of murder and mayhem filled Spike’s mind as he found himself in the unsavoury position of having to trust Giles and Angel to find a way out of this crazy reality he was now trapped. Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, the one he had been tied to the last few hours, he felt his limbs ache from their confinement and came to the conclusion that he did not dislike them as much as he disliked himself at this moment. Why was he enduring this humiliation, tied to a chair like some kind of animal, with the cheerleader and the witch armed with crossbows, ready to shoot him at the slightest show of danger? There was no chip in his head so he could happily kill all of them, starting with Peaches. For so long he wanted the damn thing to be gone and now that it was, what was he doing? He was consorting with the enemy in order to get it back! He should have been revelling in the freedom of this reality where vampires ruled the night; instead he was unable to stomach any of it because Buffy did not exist.

There was no end to Fate’s cruelty, Spike decided.

Still when he looked at the cheerleader, at Cordelia, he saw that in this reality she was much changed. Sure, she was never very smart, the beautiful ones seldom were, except for Buffy - of course in that instance he was somewhat biased. Yet as he studied Cordelia now, there was hardness in her eyes and a grim determination that did resemble Buffy to some degree. She had seen a lot. In the other world, she had been a flighty thing with nary a thought in her head that did not believe that she was the centre of the known universe. However, there was none of that here. Even Tara who was as sweet and unassuming as they come, seemed to have that same steel in her eyes but Spike supposed that in this place, that kind of nerve was needed for survival.

"Hey Cordelia," Spike called out, curious as to what had turned a party girl like Cordelia into a vampire hunter. "What are you doing here? I thought you’d be more concerned about becoming prom queen or the next ‘it’ girl."

Cordelia glared at him. "That’s none of your business."

"Oh come on," Spike urged. "I’m interested, really."

"Shut up Spike," Tara ordered, glancing anxiously at Cordelia whose eyes had suddenly softened with something Spike recognized immediately as terrible sadness.

"I was just asking," Spike returned, his voice no longer taunting but somewhat gentle. "I’m just surprised to see you with Peaches that’s all. I thought you’d be with the whelp."

"The whelp?" She knotted her brow in confusion.

"Xanderrrr." Spike replied in his best American accent.

"Xander’s dead." Cordelia returned. "Or might as well be."

With that she lowered her crossbow and walked away from Tara and Spike, unable to face either as emotions she could not bear to have them see surfaced within her. Spike watched her go, feeling a little sorry for hurting her on such a personal level. He did not mind the odd taunts that annoyed but he did not relish pain that cut to the heart because he knew all too well how that felt from the thoughtlessness of others. He also understood now what had driven Cordelia to Angel and to this group of vampire hunters; Xander’s turning. It also made sense that upon being turned, Willow would seek out Xander first. They were after all best friends for most of their lives and now it appeared they would be soul mates through eternity as well. It had to hurt Cordelia a great deal.

"I’m sorry," Spike apologised but she did not hear.

"You’re such a jerk," Tara frowned, looking worriedly after Cordelia.

"Were you and Red an item too?" Spike asked.

"Red?" Tara stared at him in confusion.

"Willow," Spike retorted impatiently. "Were you and Willow together?’

"The vampire Willow?" Tara’s face evaporated in shock.

"I’m guessing that’s a no." Spike deduced by her astonished expression. "So when did Peaches enter the picture?"

"Why do you keep calling him that?" Tara asked wondering what other curve balls Spike was going to throw at him.

"It’s an old joke," he replied with a little smile. "What’s the story with him?"

"He came here to stop you and Drusilla from awakening the demon Acathala," Tara spoke and then recanted. "The other you."

"I decided to wake Acathala?" Spike shook his head in disbelief. "Manchester United must have lost the Cup or the bloody Aussies have won the damn cricket again, can’t think of any other reason to be that depressed enough to want to end the world."

"You killed the slayer that night." Tara declared, as if defying him to remember. "You killed Kendra but Angel stopped Acathala. When it was all over, he stayed here to help us with the Master."

Spike remembered. He knew how things had gone in his reality but he also remembered the way it had transpired in this one. The Master had been furious at him and Drusilla for almost ending the vampire paradise he had created for himself and only his fondness for them had kept him from killing them both. He remembered fighting Kendra and how he had taken her life and his third slayer. It had been an exhilarating experience and one that worthy of the keeping. However, he knew that it was false. It was a phantom created by Chronozon to torture him with Buffy’s non-existence and once again he wished he could have killed more than just the demon’s host.

Spike was about to comment when Giles and Angel returned, obviously having conferred about the legitimacy of Spike’s claim. Angel would be the sceptic, Spike decided, even with a soul Peaches knew what he was and how dangerous he could be. Spike just hoped he did not manage to convince Giles the same. At this moment, the watcher was the only person alive who might be able to help him return to the world he knew and Spike could not afford to alienate him. Giles gave him a hard stare as he approached, as if trying to discern whether or not Spike’s words were genuine or was this some trick to end the threat of the vampire hunters.

"Tell us everything that’s happened to you since you emerged in this reality." Giles spoke upon reaching him. Angel was glaring at him with stake in hand and Spike knew that the vampire with a soul would stake him at a moment’s notice if he so much as breathed wrong.

Spike let out a deep breath, aware that it was necessary even though he had no wish to relive the whole sorry tale of how he had come to be here. He omitted a few facts however, like Chronozon’s cruel taunts about Buffy not loving him. They did not need to have that much detail. Giles listened closely while Angel seemed to take his words with a grain of salt and the two vampires spent much of the narration glaring at each other. When it was done, no one was more grateful than Spike He did not much care for justifying his reasons for wanting Buffy back and having to do it to people he did not think too highly off was even worse.

"How extraordinary," Giles said after a moment of silence following the conclusion of Spike’s tale.

"I’m glad you think so," Spike returned sarcastically. "Can you help me or not?" He asked impatiently.

"I don’t think its that simple," Giles retorted with a frown. "The spell that Chronozon used could be any number of things, attempting to break it would be extremely difficult."

"I’m kind of curious to know why every memory of your past before coming to Sunnydale is identical except the time in the old west." Angel added, showing that he was listening and giving some measure of credence to Spike’s story even if he did not want to trust his former minion.

"I wondered about that," Spike nodded in agreement. "Everything else is the same except that. What I remember is that we never came to America, until the next century. Darla liked the high life in Europe, at least until you got your soul back and then we went our separate ways. I think she came to Sunnydale before any of us to join the Master while me and Dru stayed in Europe."

"I remember," Angel said quietly, trying not to think too much of his demon’s feelings for Darla and how a part of him would always be attracted to her. Cordelia shifted uncomfortably as if she knew what he was thinking and was not happy about it.

"You killed someone there you said?" Giles looked at him.

"Yeah some gambler named Standish," Spike responded and something about that bothered him a great deal. "I remember that I did it but I can’t for the life of me remember why. Most of them time I couldn’t care less about killing anyone over bleeding poker. That’s a mug’s game if you ask me, killing someone just because you couldn’t win fair and square. I’m no welsher."

Giles pondered the question for a moment before he found himself glancing at Spike again. "What do you know about Buffy’s family?"

"Her family?" Spike’s brow shot up in confusion. "She had a mum and a little sister, the niblet but there’s a long story behind how that come to be and I’m not in the mood for telling it. Her mum was a nice lady though, use to make me hot chocolate with marshmallows in it. Joyce would listened to me prattle on like a git about Dru after she left me, like she really cared you know? I was sorry when she died."

He looked up to see the others staring at him.

"Marshmallows?" Angel snorted.

"Sod off." Spike growled and felt intensely annoyed by the snigger that came from Angel at his chagrin.

"Could we get back to the subject?" Giles frowned, lowering himself at the nearby desk in front of a thin laptop. "What was her mother’s name?"

"Joyce," Spike retorted. "Like I said."

"I mean her maiden name." Giles hissed.

"Oh," he replied quietly, searching his mind for the answer and remembering that Joyce had told him once. When the answer came to him, his eyes flared open and for a second his heart turned even colder in his chest. "Bloody hell," his voice escaped him in a strangled whisper. "It was Standish. Her maiden name was Standish."

"Just as I thought," Giles thought as his fingers flew across the keyboard and he found the information that he was looking for. "There is a record of a Hank Summers but not of a Joyce Standish."

"THAT SON OF A BITCH!" Spike growled, his face turning into a vampire with such rage that the ropes binding him snapped free when he stood up, wanting to kill something, anything. "THE FUCKING BASTARD!"

Cordelia and Tara started to raise their crossbows but Angel shook his head, believing there was no danger because he had seen the realization sink into the younger vampire’s face and it was the horror of what he had done had inspired this bout of fury.

"I KNEW IT!" Spike ranted, feeling such an unbelievable surge of rage that he could barely contain it. He should have known that there was more to Chronozon’s revenge than simply taking his Slayer away from him. He wanted Spike to suffer, to know that he was the one responsible for her absence because it was he who had killed her ancestor, thus negating her entire existence. "He made me the one to destroy her! I’ll kill the bastard! Hey Peaches you can stake me now! I’m going to hell to tear that fucking demon apart!"

"Sure," Angel started to take a step towards the ranting vampire with a stake in his hand.

"Steady on!" Spike glared at him. "I was raving!"

"You expected to just let that lie there?" Angel smiled.

"So we now we know what’s happened," Giles returned to the small group. "You caused the death of Buffy’s ancestor that had altered the timeline."

"I guess so," Spike hissed, still seething in fury. His features shifted back to his human face but he was still furious. "The question is what can I do about it? Unless one of you have a HG Wells time machine so I can go back and stop myself from doing it, we’re screwed."

"No, nothing like that, unfortunately," Giles answered. Despite Spike’s crude description of their situation, Giles had to admit he was right, there might not be anything they could do to change things back. "I don’t know if there’s anything that can be done."

"I refuse to believe that," Spike said in a perfectly sober voice. "I won’t let her end this way. If she is to die, she deserves a slayer’s death. She shouldn’t end like this without even being given a chance to face her killer."

"You’re her killer." Cordelia pointed.

"Thank you for pointing that out," Spike threw a dark look in her direction and then said to Angel, "you always liked the dumb ones."

"There’s a spell," Tara who had been silent all this time announced, silencing Angel before he had a chance to defend Cordelia’s IQ and capturing their undivided attention.

"A spell?" Giles looked at the young woman. He was aware that she dabbled with magic on occasion. Tara never spoke about such episodes but the proof of her ability was considerable even if Giles never considered she might have the power to conjure a spell as complex as the one she was proposing. It worried him that she would try it and yet he could not imagine any other way that they might undo what the demon Chronozon had wrought by his vengeance on Spike.

"Yes," Tara nodded shyly, hating it when everyone’s attention was her. Spike was staring at her with hope as if he believed she could do it or needed to anyway. "There is spell that could send Spike back to the West, to the town where he killed Buffy’s ancestor. If he could stop what he did back there, it might return things to normal again."

"Is it dangerous?" Cordelia asked, concerned not for Spike but rather for Tara. Since the Master’s return from exile, Cordelia had seen those she loved die one after the other. First Willow, Xander, Harmony and so many others she could no longer count. When she had joined Giles to fight the vampires, Tara had become her friend and in this world where so much was uncertain and death was a constant, Cordelia strove to keep the few friends she had in her life. "I mean could you get hurt?"

"I don’t think so," Tara answered. "But it is a difficult spell and he’ll still have to be brought back. I would have to go with him."

"No!" Angel and Spike said simultaneously.

"There’s no way!" Cordelia added.

"I’ll go with her." Giles stated.

"Oh this is bloody great!" Spike retorted. "Not only am I going to have to stop myself from killing this Standish bloke, I also have to do it while protecting you two?"

"It won’t work any other way," Tara stated. "Do you want Buffy back or not?"

That stopped any further protestations but Spike was not happy about it. He did not reveal that it was not just his past self he would have to deal with but also Angelus, Darla and Drusilla who would undoubtedly be accompanying him. How was he going to deal with three vampires on his own?

"Giles," Angel spoke up. "This is dangerous. You’re needed here."

"I know," Giles swallowed, not about to hide the fact that he was worried about his life and the world he would be leaving behind. "However, if this works, there will be no Master and," he paused and gave Spike a glimpse. "I am her watcher."

"You don’t know that for sure." Angel returned.

"No I don’t," Giles sucked in his breath. "But I have to believe that there’s something out there better than this."

"Trust me," Spike returned. "There is."

Giles stared and him and retorted, "don’t take this personally Spike but it doesn’t comfort me knowing that coming from you."

***********

"I should be going with you," Angel said to Giles as he saw Tara finishing her preparations for the time travel spell.

"No you can’t," Giles shook his head even before Angel could complete the sentence. "You need to stay because if we fail and we’re trapped there for any reason, you will have to continue the fight without us."

"Don’t say that," Angel responded, a stricken expression on his face. They had been through so much together over the years that the thought of losing the thoughtful and brave librarian was more than Angel could stand. He had learnt a great deal from Giles, more than he had learnt in almost two hundred years of existence and could easily say that he had been influenced greatly by the association. "Of course, you’ll come back."

"I’m sure I will," Giles was not about to repudiate that statement, wondering of Angel had fully considered the consequences of what would happen if they were indeed successful. This entire timeline would cease to be. Their friendship, his love for Cordelia and everything he had become since coming to Sunnydale would also disappear. There was also the possibility that Spike was lying to them and if he was, it would be best if one of them was on hand to discover what his intentions was. However, inwardly, Giles did not believe that Spike was lying and if he was not, then there was a chance to restore the timeline and erase this terrible world from ever coming into being.

"But it is also wise to take precautions." He added, hoping that would make it easier for Angel to accept.

Angel nodded begrudgingly, aware that Giles words had been spoken to appease him and was no reassurance in itself. However, Giles was correct, an existence where the Master was not the lord over a kingdom of vampires was too good to risk slipping by. They had one chance at it and Giles had to take it for all their sakes.

"We’re ready," Tara called out once she and Cordelia were done with the preparations. "We should begin."

Giles swallowed thickly, unable to deny his apprehension and noted that Spike had already stepped into the circle that Tara had created. The vampire’s face revealed no sign of fear, just an eagerness to begin and at that moment, Giles could well believe that he had lost his heart to a slayer and was desperate to get her back at any costs. The irony of it seemed straight out of a Shakespearean tragedy.

"Alright then," Giles speaking with a confidence he did not feel. "Let’s get on with it."

************

[b]FOUR CORNERS – The Standish Saloon[/b]

Inez Recillos watched the proceedings with a sigh, wishing that her employer’s son would finish his game and leave. She wanted to close up for the night but it was extremely bad manners to do so when her last customers of the night were engaged in a rather intense game of poker. A few others had remained to watch the proceedings with her but the majority of the tavern’s clientele had staggered home for the evening. It was not as if she was unaccustomed to late nights herself but there was something odd about the opponent that Ezra Standish was playing. The manner in which he stared across the table at Ezra was unnerving, even to one who was watching it from a distance away. She wondered how Ezra could stand it.

"How much longer do you think he’s gonna last?" Vin Tanner, one of the peacekeepers in the town of Four Corners, inquired of Inez as he looked over his shoulder from the counter.

"Knowing Ezra," Chris Larabee shrugged. "Who knows? Although it looks like the Englishman might give him a run for his money."

"Not a chance," Inez said confidently, "Ezra plays to win and if thought he’d lose he would not be taking this all the way."

Neither man chose to question the lady since she was had been privy to Ezra’s all night sessions more than they were lately. Since becoming the manager of the Standish Tavern, Inez had plenty of opportunity to observe the gambler in action and if there was one thing that either Chris or Vin was not about to refute, it was a woman’s intuition.

Ezra Standish had no difficulty playing under the intense gaze of his opponent. As a professional gambler, he had learnt to become indifferent to scowls and daggers thrown in his direction during a game and distraction, like skill was all a part of the play. He could not deny that he enjoyed playing cards with the Englishman called William Marsden, although he had a great deal of difficulty reading him as easily as he did previous opponents. There was something in the eyes that seemed predatory and a great deal like Chris Larabee’s but it was hard to equate anything so dark with the pale young man in his eastern clothes and his refined accent.

William and his companions had arrived in town less than a week ago and had caused a stir of gossip throughout the community from the moment they arrived. Ezra himself had to admit he was curious while Chris merely took a cautious view of them as he would with any strangers. William’s companions, a rather ethereal beauty named Drusilla was absent tonight but when they were together, mostly in the evenings, they were inseparable. It was thought that they were rich aristocrats from abroad, living the high life with behaviour that seemed very much the stock of the indolent rich. With William and his lady were another couple, a dark broody Irishman who gave Chris a run for his money in the tall, dark and mysterious department and an incredibly gorgeous golden haired beauty that had Buck Wilmington salivating at the sight of her.

They seemed pleasant enough, carousing to all hours of the night which explained why they slept half the day away and only seemed to emerged when the sun had dipped into the horizon. They enjoyed doing the rounds of the saloons in Four Corners and there were trips to Eagle Bend and Bitter Creek where they apparently soaked in the local colour there. After a few days, the novelty of their presence seemed to fade and Chris had muttered something about them probably being on their way when they were got bored with things around here. On this occasion, the older couple had gone to watch a troop of actors performing in Bitter Creek. Josiah Sanchez had taken Buck Wilmington and JD Dunne with him to watch the same show. Ezra had no taste for watching Marlowe being performed badly so he had opted to remain in town choosing to spend the night at the tables. 

He was surprised when William joined the table where he was holding court with a number of local opponents.. Ezra supposed those who travelled the continent with nothing to do but enjoying the delights of high society would be familiar with the game and the chance to play with a capable opponent was welcomed. That was almost four hours ago and since then the process of fiscal elimination had chased off the others at the table and after William’s lady friend had retired for the night, it was just the two of them. He had to confess he had not engaged in such a challenging game for quite some time and he enjoyed every second of it. However, a quick glance at Inez’s directions told him that the lady was waiting for them to finish and he took pity on her by deciding that it was time to make a play where winner would take all. William had not shirked from this prospect and even seemed pleased at the risk. His full lips curling into a little smile when Ezra made the suggestion.

"I must commend your skill Mr. Marsden," Ezra remarked.

"Spike." He said shortly.

"Spike?" Ezra raised his brow over the edge of his cards. "As in railroad?"

A little smile crossed William’s face, as if he was enjoying some tremendous joke that Ezra was not privy to. "Something like that."

"As I was saying ‘Spike", I have enjoyed this game. In my line of work, its unusual for me to come across a worthy opponent but I must say you’ve been one of the most challenging in a while." Ezra responded. "However, I am tired and I think its time to draw the night to a close."

"You have some unfinished business," William the Bloody pointed out, sitting up straight in his chair. "You can’t leave the table unless you finish the game."

"I’m afraid I can," Ezra smiled sweetly and laid down his cards, revealing a perfect Royal Flush. "And I don’t intent to leave empty handed."

William’s eyes flashed in anger and outrage, a thousand different emotions surfaces and disappeared from his eyes in a fraction of a second. His jaw tightened as if he had not anticipated losing and did not at all like it. He raised his eyes to Ezra and the gambler was somewhat taken back by the fury he saw there. For a second, Ezra thought he might attack and braced himself for a fight but then the expression faded away from his opponent’s face and William leaned back into his chair, letting his cards fall onto the table in a gesture of concession.

"Well played," he commended. "I didn’t see it coming at all."

"Its what I do," Ezra returned smoothly, unable to forget that look in William’s eyes and was now on guard for trouble. He hoped it would not turn ugly especially when he looked forward to playing the young man again. "You did however, remind me how important it is to keep one’s skill sharply honed. It could have gone the other way."

"I’m sure it could," William said politely and rose to his feet. "I think I shall call it a night. Congratulations on your win," his voice was almost mischievous.

Ezra began to wonder what the man found so amusing. He would have asked but he was more grateful that William had chosen to lose gratefully and not have the evening end with violence so he refrained from asking. "Thank you and I hope we will do this again."

"We will play again," William smiled as he turned away. "You can be assured of that."

Ezra watched him go, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as he left. His instincts screamed caution at him but for the life of him he could not understand why. William Marsden did not look particularly threatening but Ezra still felt something cold had run down his spine at the mention of the man’s last remark. Once he had gone, Ezra went back to the business of collecting his money from the table, unable to shake that uneasy feeling that had been engendered by the Englishman.

"You haven’t lost your touch," Vin remarked as he approached the gambler at his table.

"I was unaware that that was ever in doubt," Ezra retorted.

"I don’t know," Chris teased. "It looked pretty close for awhile there."

"To the amateur, perhaps." Ezra gave them both a confident smirk. "However, I always had things in hand."

"Sure you did," Chris said sceptically and downed the contents of his glass. "That’s it," the gunslinger announced after he had finished drinking. "I’m done for the night. I’m going back to my shack."

"Me too," Vin yawned. "What about you Ez? Gonna try and scare up another sucker?"

"Not here he’s not," Inez declared as she cleared a table near them. "I’m closing up for the night. I need my beauty sleep."

"You are far too lovely to ever require repose to upkeep your loveliness," Ezra smirked.

"Christ," Vin rolled his eyes.

"Someone had to speak for Buck," Ezra grinned as Inez shook her head in resignation that she was washing her hands of all of them.

"And we thank you for it," Chris drawled. "Come on, let’s give Inez a break and get out of here."

"Thank you Senor," the sultry Mexican barmaid said with a grateful smile.

"I suppose I ought to take my winnings and retire for the evening," Ezra declared at the three men walked towards the bat wing doors. "I take it you are going to crawl into that wagon of yours?"

"Sure thing," Vin nodded. "It’s got everything I need."

"I seriously doubt that," Ezra replied, unable to imagine how the tracker could get any sleep in that uncomfortable wagon. Just thinking about spending the night in such surroundings made him grateful for the featherbed that he would soon be slumbering upon.

"You’re too soft for your own good," Vin retorted.

"I like to think of it being polished," the gambler grinned.

"Far be it for me to leave while you are guys are having this intellectual discussion but I’m heading home before my hangover hits. You want to be in bed for something like that. See you tomorrow," Chris replied and headed towards the livery where his horse was stabled.

"I’ll see you tomorrow too Ez," Vin bade the gambler tonight and disappeared into the darkened street where his wagon was situated.

Ezra watched him go for a second wondering how anyone could spend the night like that when hotels and lodging houses were in such close proximity. However, such eccentricities seemed absolutely normal when they were discussing Vin Tanner. The tracker liked the open spaces and the trappings of rustic living. He supposed his own choices would seem just as bizarre to the tracker and decided that God loved variety in all its forms and he and the six men he rode with were more or less proof of that. They made a curious bunch but somehow it worked and he considered them the first real friends he had ever had in his life especially because of those differences.

He continued down the darkened boardwalk towards his room at the lodging house and found himself looking forward to some sleep. It had been a long day with he and Buck escorting a prisoner to Eagle Bend and getting back a little before dark. Hopefully, tomorrow would be a somewhat restful day because he could stand to spend the bulk of it in front of the jailhouse instead of traipsing across the country side dealing with outlaws and God only knew what mischief that seemed to take place in the Territory alone. He rounded a corner and almost collided with William Marsden who appeared to have been waiting for him.

"Marsden," Ezra sighed, realizing now that his earlier hope of things remaining civilized was just that; hope and one that was about to crushed underfoot by violence. "What are you doing here?"

"I think you cheated," William said without mincing words as he stepped out into the scant light illuminated from the full moon above. "I think you cheated to beat me."

"I do not cheat," Ezra returned sharply. He just about had his fill of this English upstart’s inability to take his losses like a man. "Now step out of my way. I have no wish to hurt you but I will if I have to impress my point any further.’

"Well that’s right proper of you mate," William replied almost chuckling. "Unfortunately, I do wish to hurt you."

Whether or not it was the trick of the light or something more that Ezra had no understanding of, William’s face suddenly changed. It changed into something Ezra could not even begin to imagine with yellow eyes and teeth that belonged to an animal and not a human. Ezra staggered backwards, so over taken with astonishment that for a moment he did not know what to do. "What are you?" He managed to ask.

"I’m death," William smiled and lunged at him.

Ezra reacted instinctively, reaching for his gun but his attacker was fast, so fast that the gambler never managed to unsheathe the Remington resting comfortably in his holster. He heard a growl just before he toppled to the ground, feeling an icy breath on his neck as William reached for his hand and pinned it to the ground helplessly. Ezra struggled hard but the man’s grip was powerful beyond belief. He could not even manage to keep his wrist from digging into the dirt once William had a hold of him. Ezra saw a glint of light on the creature’s jaw as William opened his mouth, preparing to bite when all reason left the gambler as he started to cry out. Perhaps Vin was close enough to hear him.

God he hoped so!

"They won’t get here in time to save you mate," William grinned, bearing his fangs as he lowered his head to Ezra’s neck.

His scream tore through the night at the same time William broke skin. Ezra felt his teeth sink into this throat and felt his blood draining. He could not understand what was happening or what William was but it would not matter because he was going to die....

**********

There was no time to think. There was only time to react.

Spike broke into a run, drawn by the scent of blood and fear that wafted through the darkened street of the town he knew only from his false memories as being Four Corners. They arrived only a short time ago, stepping through the centuries as if they had stepped through a door from one room to another. There was disorientation for a few minutes for both human and vampire although the latter recovered far swifter than his companions. However, when he heard the scream of terror, his senses came alive with surprising alertness and he was running before he even knew it. The spell had brought them back in time to the day that he had done the terrible deed that saw Buffy’s existence erased but not even Tara’s abilities could pinpoint the exact hour of their arrival. Now it seemed as if they had appeared just in time.

Spike had never ran so fast in his life. The only time he had remembered doing so with such urgency was when Dawn had been poised for sacrifice on that gantry that Glory had constructed to open the dimensions. His failure to save her had forced Buffy to sacrifice her own life and Spike had no intention of allowing that to happen again. Spike turned a corner and knew that prey and hunter was close and that the killing had already begun. The thought that he might be too late create a wail of anguish inside him as he ran faster, pushing himself to the absolute limits of his vampire abilities. When it seem like Spike would never reach them, he saw his younger self feeding on the gambler and felt his stomach lurch into his throat.

The man was still alive, Spike realised because he could see him struggling but not for long if he was drained any further. Spike raced forward and grabbed his past self with both hands and flung him backwards with enough force to send the vampire flying through the air and crashing into support beam of a nearby awning. There was a tremendous crash of it breaking and the awning giving way, bringing down wood and slats loudly over the predator. Spike turned to the his William’s victim and saw that the human was still alive, Spike could hear his heart pounding with fright in his ears.

"Spike!" Giles called out as he and Tara finally caught up with him, both were breathing hard, incapable of matching his devastating pace. Spike was not listening, he went instead to the man, Standish, lying on the ground clutching his bleeding throat.

"Hey," Spike went to him and caught him by the arm. "You still with us?"

Ezra Standish stared into the face of his savoir a little dazed but very much alive. "What...what....what...was that?" Ezra stammered at a loss for words for the possibly the first time in his life.

"That can wait," Spike retorted quickly, trying not to be affected by the intoxicating scent of fresh blood flowing from the man’s neck. "Watcher! He needs help!"

"Of course," Giles hurried forward to the fallen man to help him off the ground. Spike stepped back and let them proceed for he was not one to give aid and comfort to the injured which was just as well because he heard the heaving of wood and knew that his younger self was waking up.

"Is that him?" Tara asked as she came up along side of him. "I mean you?"

William stood up shakily, wood and dust falling off him as he stood up, still wearing his vampire visage. Spike stared at him for a moment, a little taken back by seeing himself for the first time in almost a hundred and twenty years. At this point, William would have been a vampire only a few years. Inwardly, Spike knew that nothing about himself had changed since the day he was turned but he could not help staring at the person he was. In place of his peroxide hair was honey blond hair, worn with a Hugh Grant kind of flop as Red would say. Spike could not believe he was ever that young.

"Hello there Junior," Spike replied catching William’s attention. "Sorry to interrupt your fun here but believe me when I say that you don’t want this one."

"Who the bloody hell are you?" William hissed in his direction.

"Take a good look," Spike pushed his chin out a little so that William could see him better. "I know it’s been awhile since you’ve seen your reflection but I reckon you know who I am."

William’s game face evaporated when he did as he was told. His eyes furrowed in confusion as recognition seeped in. "Its a trick! You can’t be." He stammered in shock.

"I am and I’m telling you for your own good to let this one go," Spike ordered, gesturing to Ezra who was being helped to his feet by Giles.

"Spike, I don’t think he’s in the listening mood," Tara whispered in his ear.

"Witch," Spike turned away from his earlier version to the young woman. "This isn’t the time to give me a narrative. This is dangerous business here, go help Giles."

William took advantage of his distraction and lunged but before he could reach Spike, the vampire turned back to face him at the last minute, slamming his first into the younger versions’ face and sending him sprawling.

"Blimey," Spike shook his head as he saw William tumbling towards the dirt. "Was I actually that bloody dumb? No wonder Angelus thought I’d never last. You know, if you keep acting like a bleeding hot headed fool, you’re not going to make it to a hundred and I for one, will pretty pissed off at that." He said to William reproachfully.

"Maybe we ought to go," Tara tugged at his coat.

Spike frowned, studying William. He was dazed but not for long and Spike would prefer to avoid a second round with his younger self at this time.

"We should stake him," Tara advised looking at the disorientated vampire with fear.

Spike turned to her. "Hello, stake him – I disappear. I’d rather you not do that."

"Oh!" Tara exclaimed. "Sorry," she winced in embarrassment.

"That’s alright," Spike rolled his eyes and glanced at his younger counterpart. "Well see you around William."

William did not answer and for the moment anyway, that was a good sign as far as Spike was concerned because knowing how he was back in those days, the moment that William was in full control of his faculties, he would be in possession of a murderous rage. Considering that Spike could not stake him, it was wise to be elsewhere when that happened. Besides, they had more immediate problems to deal with. Buffy’s ancestor still lived which meant somewhere in the future, so did his Slayer and he was going to work very hard to see to it that thing remained that way.

**********

"What happened?" Chris Larabee demanded shortly after entering Nathan’s infirmary.

Vin had ridden out to his shack to tell him of what had happened after his departure from town and the fact that one of his men had been attacked did not put the gunslinger in the best frame of mind. Vin had told him very little on the journey back to town, admitting little more than the fact that Ezra had been attacked and that some strangers had come to his rescue. Chris knew there was more to it then that and it concerned him that Vin could not tell him the rest of it. He and Vin were able to confide in most things to each other, that he found it hard to tell Chris the truth now, deepened Chris’ anxiety regarding the situation that they now found himself in.

"He’s alright," Nathan said quickly, allaying Chris’ fears because he knew how worried Chris could get about any one of them being hurt. "He lost a little blood and he’ll be in here with me for a day or two but other than that, he’s okay."

"Right," Chris bristled, not liking the lack of answers even with that reassurance in mind. "He’s fine, now tell me what happened?"

"I’m afraid its going to be a little hard to believe," a tall man with steel rimmed glasses approached him wearing odd clothes.

"Who the hell are you?" Chris asked gruffly.

"My name is Rupert Giles," the stranger introduced himself. "This is my friend Tara and that there is Spike."

Chris nodded politely at the girl but his eyes had already caught sight of the young man standing rather indifferently against the wall, wearing a leather coat not unlike a duster and appearing almost bored by the conversation taking place around him. "Marsden?"

"Spike," he replied with the same voice. "But no, I’m not him."

"You look like him," Chris declared walking up to him. "You look a hell of a lot like him. Brothers?"

"Not bloody likely," Spike snorted and suddenly felt on guard around this human with the glare that could cut glass. Judging by the way he was dressed and his demeanour, Spike came to the conclusion that as humans went, this one could be pretty nasty if given a chance.

Spike warmed to him immediately.

"Chris, he saved Ezra’s life," Vin explained quickly because he could see Chris becoming exceedingly hostile unless he got some answers soon.

"Saved Ezra from whom?" Chris asked with exasperation

"Marsden," Nathan answered promptly. "At least, he thinks it was Marsden."

"He thinks?" Chris stared at the people in the room as if he was the only sane one present. "He isn’t sure?"

"The man took a big bite out of Ezra’s neck, if Spike here hadn’t come along, he would be dead by now." Vin added.

"Let me get this straight," Chris shook his head. The pieces of the jigsaw puzzle he was getting from Nathan and Vin added up to whole bunch of confusion. "Marsden bit Ezra’s throat and almost killed him? With his teeth?"

"Oh bloody hell," Spike rolled his eyes in exasperation and wondered why Larabee put up with this idiots who were incapable of giving him a straight answer. "Alright Tex," he spoke up. "This is the story. Your friend was attacked by a vampire – see Exhibit A." He pointed to himself and switched to game face as Buffy liked to call his vampire visage.

"Holy Christ!" Chris stumbled back and went for his gun as did Vin, who had not been aware of that aspect of Spike since there had been little time to learn anything after being told that Ezra had been attacked by some kind of creature. Nathan was similarly shocked but considering that he had just emerged from treating a patient, he was not armed and merely stepped back, giving Spike a wide berth.

"Subtle Spike," Giles gave the vampire a reproachful frown and tried to get the situation under control.

"What the hell are you?" Chris demanded, his gun drawn and not about to lower it any time soon.

"He’s a vampire," Giles explained quickly, very conscious of the guns the two men were holding. "Please, there is an explanation for this. He won’t harm you. He saved your friend’s life for now but the danger is not over."

If anything managed to penetrate Chris’ horror as he stared at the man, creature, whatever it was before him, it was the notion that any one of his men was in danger. "What do you mean?" He asked sharply.

"It will be hard to believe," Giles replied, "but you must understand that a great deal depends on your friend’s survival and we’ve come a long way to see that he remains safe."

"Try me," Chris glanced at Spike whose face had returned to normal now. "At this moment, I can believe a lot."

Giles hoped so and began to tell him.

**********

All was silent when explanations were made and the seconds seemed to tick by as if there was some invisible clock in the background making itself heard only in their minds. Giles did not realize he was holding his breath as he waited for Chris Larabee or one of his men to say something. The gunslinger was quiet, as if correlating all that he had heard and was trying to process it. Giles could not blame him for his disbelief. The world these men came from was hard and cold, with science and demonology so far away from their existence it was almost a different language. These were practical times, bound tight by convention and religious belief. It had to be difficult for any of the men present in this room to grasp that all that Giles had told them.

"Why Ezra?" Chris finally asked. His mind was reeling with Giles’ explanation, that Ezra had been marked by a vampire for death. The concept of there even being such creatures was hard enough to grasp let alone be confronted with the idea of moving through time like one rode from one town to another. These were thoughts larger than his comprehension and dealing with them was hard, even for someone like Chris.

"Revenge," Spike answered before Giles could. Somehow he had a feeling that Larabee understood revenge and sorrow quite well. "I pissed off a demon and he decided to get back at me by erasing the existence of someone I cared about a great deal."

"Someone?" Chris guessed from the look in the vampire’s eyes that he was referring to someone special. "I’m guessing its a she."

"Give the man a prize," Spike frowned. "Yes, a girl but not just any girl. She’s a Slayer."

"A slayer?" Vin asked puzzled. "What’s a slayer?"

"The Chosen One," Giles started to speak eliciting a groan from Spike.

"You had to ask didn’t you? He lives for this." Spike glanced at Giles.

Giles glared at Spike before continuing. "To each and every generation a slayer is born, she is the Chosen One. One girl in all the world with the strength and the power to fight the demons and vampires. When Spike’s demon removed her, he took from our time the Slayer who could have stopped our world from turning into a vampire haven. We have to get her back."

"A girl?" Vin was incredulous. "The Chosen One is a girl? You expect a girl to fight these things? Alone?"

"Hey," Tara began to frown. "I’m sensing a little chauvinism here."

Chris dismissed both Vin and Tara at the same time, "what’s this got to do with Ezra?"

"The bastard wanted to make me suffer," Spike said bitterly. "He wanted me to know that I was the one who made her come undone. Somehow he put me here, a hundred years before she was even born when I didn’t know anything about her and made me kill your friend." Spike’s words were filled with emotion and he had to stop a minute to compose himself and look away from the gazes of those present.

The rest unfolded easily for Chris once Spike had made that admission. Yes, he did know a great deal about revenge and about losing a woman that meant everything. It was only a few months ago that he had found out that Sarah and Adam had not been the victims of a fire but rather one that was deliberately set by their murders. He could see the anguish in this vampire’s eyes and knew how it felt with perfect empathy. "He wanted to make you responsible for her death, whatever," Chris faced him. "Wanted you to remember that her being gone was your fault and no one else’s."

"Yeah," Spike swallowed thickly. "That’s about the size of it."

"So that means...." Vin started to understand as well. "She’s related to Ezra?"

"Her mother’s name was Standish," Giles explained softly. "We believe she is a direct descendant of your friend."

"But you stopped Ezra from being killed," Nathan pointed out. "Doesn’t that mean she’s okay now?"

"No," Chris answered before Giles could. "Those vampires are still here. They haven’t gone and if they’re still here, there’s still a chance they may come after Ezra and kill him."

"So what do we do?" Vin asked.

Chris did not know how to respond and faced Giles and Spike, hoping they would have an answer. "You know these things better than we do."

"I’m not sure," Giles admitted. "We didn’t think beyond getting here."

"We better come up with something fast," Spike announced. "Because my younger self isn’t alone He’s got friends and they’re a damn sight more dangerous than he is right now. Once they’ve heard the goings on tonight, they’ll be coming."

*********

"You idiot!" William heard those angry words before he was slammed into the wall of the room he and Drusilla shared.

"Get your hands off me!" William snarled and tried to break free. It only resulted in being thrown back with even more force.

"I told you that we would not hunt here!" Angelus hissed. "I have games to play that need us to be discreet! If you had to feed you should have gone out of town like we did!"

"Don’t be angry with my boy, daddy." Drusilla drifted to William’s side. "He couldn’t help it. There were voices telling him things. Flies buzzing around his head."

"What?" Both Angelus and William turned to her at the same time with confusion.

"What are you talking about Dru?" William asked gently. "There was nothing wrong with me."

"It was only for a little bit, pet." Dru answered as she drifted to the divan where a row of porcelain dolls had been placed in a neat row. "Just a little tickle to make you dance."

"There’s something going on here Angelus," William turned back to his grandsire. "I saw a vampire and he looked like me! He was me!"

"We’ll deal with that later," Angelus said angrily, starting to see there were mitigating circumstances involved in this instance that bore investigation. He decided that his desire to put an end to Drusilla’s troublesome lover could wait for the moment. Right now, they had bigger troubles to deal with. "For the moment, we need to leave before they come hunting for us. This town isn’t that big, it won’t take them long to find us so we need to get moving."

"I won’t go!" William said defiantly. "Not until I know what’s going on!"

"Well that makes two of us William," Angelus glared at him. "But first things first, we’ll find a safe place and then get to the bottom of things."

"Fine," William retorted, satisfied with that. "And don’t call me William, I’m Spike!"

Angelus shook his head in resignation. "Whatever. Just be ready to leave."

TO BE CONTINUED