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Author's Chapter Notes:
London, 1880

She’d tried to let him down easy, he’d give her that anyway. It didn’t stop him from ripping the poems he’d written for her into shreds, but it did make the crying a little easier to bear.

He’d fallen in love with her almost at first sight. Her sweet smile had shown out through her eyes and he was smitten.

“Watch where you’re going!”

Nasty rude man, bumping into him like that when all he wanted was to be alone. Alone forever, that’s how he saw his life from now on. Alone, because the sweetest, most beautiful girl in the world had turned him down by making up some pathetic excuse of a story that she was a witch visiting from another time and that’s why they couldn’t be together.

Did she really expect him to believe that? She’d seemed genuine though, as if she honestly believed it herself. But she wasn’t mad, anyone could tell that; so it had to be a hastily conceived lie, just to be rid of him.

How pitiful did it make him that someone would go to such lengths just to break his heart? If only he could have made her see – made her see the real him. The passionate man he was inside that his rubbish poems just didn’t seem to convey. Maybe if he wrote her another poem… no, that would be a big mistake. What was the point? He was useless to her, useless to himself – Mother needed him but at that moment, he didn’t feel as if that need was great enough to stop him from ending this bitter torment forever.

That sounded like a very good plan at the moment and he sat down in the alley to consider how he would do it.


Sunnydale, 1997

He thought he’d forgotten about her. Had put her far behind him and completely out of his mind and his life for the past one hundred and seventeen years, four months, one week and six days.

Obviously though, maybe not that far and not completely out.

The girl dancing with the slayer could be her sister. Twins almost, but this girl is a few years younger than his Willow had been. And, by some odd coincidence, they had the same name. He’d heard the twit of a boy call her by Willow’s name.

He remembers *his** Willow’s story from all those years ago, that she was out of her time and place, that she had a mission, that she would have loved to be with him, but she had to go back. It was all drivel – wasn’t it?

Yes, it had to be. No one could… but if she was a witch then…

No, no time for that now. He has Drusilla. He has to kill the slayer and kidnap Angelus in order to save Drusilla. Stick with the plan. She’d already broken his heart once, he didn’t think he could stand it if she – or rather her doppelganger – did it again.

But he watches her. Watches her grow and come into her magic. Watches her become infatuated with the dog boy and Spike seethes with hatred for him even though this girl is not the one he loved. Just coincidences, that’s all it is. Just a big, horrible coincidence.

Until the night he decides she has to die. This night, this fateful night, when he finds out she is who he knows she can’t be.

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The authors own nothing. Joss, UPN, WB, etc. own Buffy, the show, the characters, the places, and the backstory. The authors own any original plots.