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Thank you shippy, tahmoe, Blazing Fire, Kate, samica, and Starshine for your lovely reviews!


Chapter 2

When Buffy next woke, she found herself alone in the bed. William's spot beside her wasn't cold and that calmed her. She searched for him, but she was alone in the bedroom. There was no light rimming the drawn curtains, so she figured it was very early still. Across the hall there was a basin of water to freshen herself with as well as several Victorian style toiletries for her. Choosing for practicality's sake to dress in her own clothing, Buffy felt chagrined at not costuming herself in the fine dress that hung from the door of the wardrobe. Maybe another time, for William. The house was cold upstairs and Buffy was glad when upon crossing the threshold to the downstairs she was met with a rush of warm air. From by way of the kitchen she heard the clanging of pots and a few annoyed grumbles muttered under the breath. She followed the lamplight and there was William, nursing burnt fingers in a bowl of cool water.

"What happened to your hand?" Buffy asked, making her presence know. He was briefly startled then looked her way. His lips were pressed together tightly and he seemed bashful. "Where's Mrs. Claythorne?"

"Off to market I suspect, or at least I hope. She's never been this careless."

"What do you mean?"

"The tea from last night is still in the sitting room and she's nowhere to be found. And neither is Hobbes for that matter!"

"Who's he?"

"My manservant."

"Maybe they've run off together on some wild romantic getaway." William looked horrified at the suggestion and Buffy smiled at him for it. "I'm just kidding. Let me see?" Taking William's hand her own she inspected his burnt fingers while at the same time noticing the porridge bubbling on the stove. "It's not too bad. Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore."

"We're you making breakfast? My mom used to make me porridge."

"I thought you'd be hungry. I think I've ruined it." Ushering him over to the table, she directed him to the chair before returning to the stove.

"It's looks just right. Where's the turn off thingie?"

"Beg pardon?"

"How do I turn it off? Make the hot go away."

"It's wood burning." With a pout Buffy realized her brain was still thinking in 21st century terms. Time to get with the older times. Think of Sherlock Holmes, she told herself. In an effort to save herself further embarrassment, Buffy went about finding bowls for the porridge and dishing out portions for them both. There was a bowl of berries on the table already as well as cream and honey. They ate in silence until William finally broached the subject that had been at the forefront of his mind since before he'd fallen asleep the night before. "Miss Buffy? I have a query."

"You have a who?"

"A question."

"Oh. Go ahead."

"Why did you come to my bed last night?" Buffy let her spoon rest in her bowl and William did the same as they faced each other. When Buffy didn't speak, he prodded further. "It wasn't proper. Did you mean to seduce me?"

"I know it wasn't proper and no, I didn't do it to seduce you. I felt safe with you, like I knew I could trust you. Was it so bad?"

"No. No." He shook his head vehemently. Some of the tension left his body as their eyes met again. "It was lovely. The...the best night of my life, holding you, watching you sleep when I woke this morning. I simply cannot fathom why a lady would come to me for comfort."

"Because you are comfortable, William. You're warm, kind and handsome."

"Handsome?" He blushed and Buffy found it so endearing. He looked a lot like Spike in that moment, sweet and open. Wanting love, but too frightened to ask for it.

"No one's ever said that to you before?"

"Never. I don't talk with women often. I haven't ever, really, truth be told." Buffy realized for the first time that his behavior went beyond Victorian proprieties. William must still be a virgin. She rose from her chair and came to stand before him. She reached up and removed his spectacles and he offered no protest.

"How old are you, William?"

"Twen...twenty-eight. And you..you? Wait! My apologies, I shouldn't have asked. Mother said it's rude to ask a lady her age."

"Twenty-three. Have you ever been kissed?" The painful soul staring back out at her answered her question well enough. Her eyes fluttered closed as she moved her mouth closer to his. The soft caress of the back of her hand ghosted over his cheek moments before her lips were pressed to his. He gave a quiet whimper at the first touch, but soon enough his spine slackened and he allowed himself to enjoy her attentions. Buffy opened her mouth slightly to draw air into her lungs and as William did the same she slipped her tongue past his lips and into his mouth. William followed her lead and curled his tongue with hers. They caressed and tangled together for the longest time. Of its own volition, William's hand found its way to cup her face and pull her close enough so her middle was pressed against his chest.

When they finally parted it was with mutual smiles. "Did you like it?" Buffy asked, replacing his spectacles on his face.

"Very much, Miss Buffy."

"Good." She sighed and straightened up, then walked over to the small kitchen window to pull back the drapes and let the sunshine in. To her surprise and confusion, she was not met with sunlight, but a dark, cloudy sky and the presence of falling snow. "When does the sun come up this time of year?"

"Close to seven." He pulled out his pocket watch and joined her by the window. He showed it to her and frowned. "A quarter past nine."

"Did we sleep all day? How could we have missed a whole day?"

"It's a mystery to me, but it must be so. No wonder Mrs. Claythorne's gone. It's Friday night and she and Hobbes are free to go as they please on Friday nights."

"Wow. I don't think I've ever slept that many hours in a row. Must be the magic of being in your arms. The snow's still falling. Would you like to go for a walk? We just got up, so we can't go to bed."

"Alright, I'd enjoy that. We'll have to find you a coat and some gloves. You'll catch your death of cold in those flimsy coverings you had on last night. I have another similar to my own, the length of which should hide your attire."

"What's wrong with my attire?"

"I don't mean to insult you, however I cannot help but take note of the fact that you do not dress yourself in the fashion of our times. I suppose customs are different in America. I would like to buy you a dress if I may?"

"That would be wonderful. There was one hanging in my room, but I didn't think I could get into it on my own."

"Ah yes, the corset. I've noted that Italian fashion is not quite so binding. We can look at the shop windows to find something you like and return tomorrow during business hours. I picture you in green, an emerald hue to match your eyes. Come, we'll set out now and return home to hopefully a full house."

***

William had bundled her up in a coat that was similar to his own, save for the fact that it was made entire of a dark colored fur. Buffy felt positively scandalous being wrapped up in such a fine garment and a little guilty for whatever creature had gone into making the coat. She reminded herself that there was no People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals in 19th century Italy. The fur collar was high enough to cover her ears and protect them from the cold and the length of the coat on her small frame came down to her ankles. She was toasty warm save for the tip of her nose. The leather gloves that her hands were snug inside were too large for her, as they were William's spare pair, but they were lined with wool and she relished them. William looked devastating in his long black coat and hat with her arm linked with his. They passed through the circular gate and out on to the street.

They were silent for the longest time before Buffy made a none too comforting revelation. "Is it just me, or are the streets kinda....empty of people?"

"I have made the same observation, though I did not think I ought to voice it, less it upset you."

"I'm not upset, just totally wigged." He furrowed his brow, concerned now that it was becoming increasingly obvious that something was a miss. Once again William's arm found its way around Buffy's shoulders, subconsciously pulling her in close to him. A little ways down the street they noticed that there were no street lights lit. They were walking down into black-gray night, shrouded in snow.

"Perhaps we should return home, wait until morning for our little sojourn?"

"Good idea." They turned back and at that time, Buffy caught something out of the corner of her eye. "Wait a minute, I think I see a light down there, down the alley."

"Ought we to investigate? Perhaps there's someone who knows why the streets are barren." There was no sign on the window or the door, but through the dirtied panes of glass they could perceive the flicker of many candles. Agreeing with a glance, William turned the door knob and cringed when the old door creaked loudly. Once inside the scent of fragrant oils and incense assaulted them. The room was extravagantly decorated and very much out of place in Italy with its Eastern style. Brocade fabrics and tapestries adorned the floor as well as the walls. Exotic lamps hung from the ceiling with paper shades of unique shapes that cast warm colors. Statues of goddesses with many sets of arms surrounded them, made of bronze and even gold. "No opiates in the air," William commented.

"No whats?"

"Opium." There was a tall hooka pipe in the corner, but it seemed abandoned.

"Oh! I don't get it."

"Sometimes a man must escape the trappings of a mundane life, and the Chinamen and those from by way of the East Indies are able to provide them with that escape. They often fall into an abyss from which they are unable to come back."

"Have you ever?"

"No! No. I prefer a less treacherous form of escapism. My writings are sufficient."

"What do you write?" William was about to speak when he detected a noise, like the rustling of leaves, from the back of the room. A slender woman with black hair to her waist came around the corner. There was a veil of gray obscuring her features, but one had the sense that she was very beautiful. Her costume was of pale blues, grays and whites in contrast to their surroundings. The din of her silver jewelry was a foreign and haunting music. With an outstretched hand, she beckoned them to follow.

William and Buffy cast each other questioning glances and together decided to follow through with the journey that had led them here. Behind a maze of hanging draperies and screens was an unusual doorway. It was just barely taller than William and cut from the wall as a circle. The woman passed through ahead of them and together the couple followed. In the center of this new room was a circular table no more than two feet from the ground, surrounded by cushions of gold. The room itself was painted blood red with murals of bizarre gods and goddesses, some horrific and others ethereal in their beauty. The woman sat down and motioned for William and Buffy to do the same. After removing their heavy winter coats they sat close to each other across from the woman.

"You are late in coming, my friends," said the woman in an accent that indicated her ethnicity.

"You're from India?" William asked.

"Presently, though not always. None of us are who we were before. We are ever changing bodies, but the soul remains and grows with each new life it experiences. There is no end to Samsara."

"Samsara?"

"Where we are. It is the material world that the devas gave to humans and the devas can be made to bend to our will through hymns, prayers, rituals, sacrifices, and wishes." Buffy gasped at the last word. She'd made a wish and it brought her to William. "The Samsara is a place fragmented and constantly changing, all and none of it is real and we move through it changing it as it changes us."

"I...I made a wish," Buffy revealed,"I wished to be reunited with the man I love." Warily she cast a glance towards William and found him looking upon her with questioning eyes.

"And the devas awarded you for being parted too soon. But this plain is unstable, you will be permitted only seven chances before it will be gone."

"Gone? What does that mean? And seven chances to do what?" The woman was being deliberately cryptic as far as Buffy was concerned and her panic at possibly being separated from William now that she'd only just found him was making her increasingly edgy.

"You must discover this for yourself. I can offer only clues, you know why this is so. Souls come together again and again, carrying with them the lessons from their previous incarnations, but your circumstances are vastly different. How do you stop a drop of water from drying up? Drop it into the ocean. Samsara is the road for the journey of the soul, on and on, life after life without end, but when you find your ocean your soul will become part of a greater whole, eternally bound to it. This is the only peace you can hope for. To find your soulmate is liberation from Samsara. You shall ascend together into eternity." The silence hung in the air until the woman rose to her feet and clasped her hands together before them, bowing and retreating into the shadows. The candles that illuminated the room extinguished seemingly of their own volition, leaving Buffy and William alone in the dark. The cold settled in around them quickly and they pulled on their warm coats.

William took her hand in his and lead her back through the circular door and into the outer room. To their astonishment it now resembled an abandoned shop with boxes and wares haplessly strewn about and covered in layers of dust and cobwebs.

"I think it best that we return home, Miss Buffy," William said, his nervousness apparent. He'd been told many strange things by the mysterious Indian woman, but what had him so pensive now was Buffy's words. She's wished to be reunited with the man she loved and now she was with him. What did this mean? He was determined to sit her down once they returned to the villa and secure plain answers from her to his questions. Outside the shop they were met with a veritable blizzard. The snow was thick and falling heavily, the banks of which had already reached the height of their knees. Coming out of the mouth of the alley proved even more treacherous. There was a mighty storm surrounding them from all corners, threatening to swallow them whole. Furthermore the blackness of the night proved it nearly impossible to make their way home. "Back to the shop! We'll never survive this!" William shouted above the blasting gales of wind and snow. Buffy offered no argument and went with him as he turned them back down the alley. To their shock and horror, the buildings were gone. They'd simply vanished.

Cowering against each other with their backs to the snow, Buffy and William tried to stave off the freezing weather. Buffy forgot all notions that the Slayer was a powerful force of her own and could survive any test of man, beast or mother nature. She was cold and scared and if William hadn't been with her, she would've laid down in the snow and waited for hypothermia to steal her sense before death came.

"William?" Buffy begged,"We have to move or we'll die out here. We have to find the house." He squeezed her body close to his with all his might, then released her and locked his arms around her shoulders and started them moving through the snow in the direction he believed home lay.

It seemed they had been trudging through the snow for hours. Every step was a battle, with the snow mounting higher and the wind and ice cutting into their exposed faces. The coats offered decent protection, but too much longer out in the blizzard and it wouldn't make any difference. Each kept the other motivated and moving. When one paused to rest, or started to give up, the other pulled them along and gave them the strength to carry on. Nonetheless, the time soon came when their lost wanderings seemed to promise only one result, their end.

William found himself making a few wishes himself, along with an endless stream of bargains with God, if only he and Buffy could be spared. He knew suddenly that he loved her. It was so fulfilling an epiphany that the snow seemed to cease to be and impediment, but rather a challenge. She'd exploded into his life, or rather he did into hers, and from the first moment he knew they shared a connection. She trusted him quickly and made advances that should have offended him as a gentleman, but instead enticed him in a way that compelled him to protect her with his life.

Because Buffy was smaller than him and had little padding on her body, the cold caught hold of her to the bone. She began to feel sleepy and now leaned against William as he pulled her along. She smiled to herself and remembered sharing his bed just hours ago and how warm his body had been next to hers. It was a dream she'd had she decided as was this snow. She convinced herself that she was actually back home in Sunnydale, her mom and Dawn asleep across the hall, and Spike was outside her bedroom window keeping vigil from his spot under the tree. Everything was just fine.





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