**********

Willow walked through the park at a leisurely pace. If anyone were to observe her, they would think she was out for a midnight stroll, without a care in the world. They would be wrong.

Her heart was heavy, her pain tangible. She felt her chest heave with the very effort of breathing. The memory of Oz's infraction with the she-wolf still fresh in her mind, as was the hole Oz had left in her heart when he had run away. Run away from her, and from himself.

She no longer cared that it was dangerous to be walking around at night, especially in Sunnydale. She didn't care that it was probable that she would be attacked. She didn't care that her friends might find her body, drained and discarded in some dirty alley. She didn't care about any of it. All she wanted was to make the pain go away. To die.

Tonight she would get her wish.

****

Spike watched the way she walked through the park, seemingly without a care in the world. He knew that presumption was inaccurate. He could feel her despair, her pain. He wanted nothing more than to stop it, make her eyes sparkle, they way they had when he'd last seen her. The fire in her eyes, the power of her blood, they called to him. He had been unable to think of anything else for the past eleven months. Ever since he had left Sunnydale, she had plagued his thoughts. She consumed his every waking moment, and now she would be his. He would claim her as his mate, and take away her pain.

Spike watched as she sat down on a stone bench, her tears staining her pale cheeks.

"He isn't worth it, pet." Spike spoke from behind her. He didn't want to startle her, but he wasn't about to let her run either.

Willow rose her head slightly, but otherwise made no movement. It was several moments before she spoke. "Is anything worth it?" Her voice was filled with raw emotion.

"Yes, Luv. Would you like me to show you?"

Willow looked up at him then, and stared into his blue eyes. She knew what he was asking, and felt a stab of fear, but then it was drowned in a wave of pain. "Will it hurt?" She paused, rethinking her question. "Will I hurt? After?"

"No. Never again." Spike promised her with vehemence she was surprised to see coming from a killer, when speaking about another's pain.

She smiled slightly and inched closer to him, offering her neck. In the back of her mind, she realized that this was not the answer she sought. Being reborn a killer was not the way to end her pain.

All thoughts stopped as she felt his fangs descend to her neck. She felt a slight pinch as he pierced her throat. A wave of images came flooding through her mind as she felt her life slipping away.

Spike drained her life's blood and marveled at the power in it. There was something different about her blood. Something he couldn't quite place. He could taste her fire, her innocence, her power, but there was something else as well. It was sweet, and spicy at the same time. The nectar of the gods. He had never tasted anything so wondrous in all his years.

He laid her gently down against his chest as he felt her heartbeat slow and her lungs near their last breath. He bit into his wrist and offered the oozing liquid to the girl in his arms. She licked the wound at first, but soon, began to suck hungrily at the proffered blood. When she had taken enough, he pulled his wrist away and watched as she took her last breath.

Soon, there was only silence.

*****

"Joe's" Joe Dawson answered the phone as he wiped down the counter idly.

The man on the other end hesitated. "Joe? We have… a situation."

Joe's hands stopped their continuous motion along the counter. He froze at the concern in the younger man's voice. "What kind of situation, Michael?"

"Well… We're not exactly sure. It's… I'm not really sure if I understand exactly what happened… or what we think happened. It's beyond my comprehension."

Joe sighed at the nervousness in the man's voice. "Why don't you tell me what happened, and I'll see if I can help."

He walked around the par and sat in one of the stools as he listened to the watcher's story, his mind whirling from what they thought had happened.

*****

Methos climbed out of his car and entered the blues club. He was about to take a seat at the bar when Johnny, one of the bartenders came out from under the counter.

"Adam, the boss is looking for you." He nodded his head towards the office. "He seems a little… tense."

Methos turned towards the office door and shrugged. When he entered he found Joe sitting at his desk, drinking out of one of his special bottles of scotch. That's when he knew something was definitely wrong. He only brought out the good stuff in an emergency.

"What's up?" He asked as he sat in the chair on the other side of the desk, "And do I need a drink?"

Joe pulled out another glass and began to pour the immortal a drink. "I need a favor."

Methos winced visibly at the word. "I don't do favors." He reminded the watcher.

Joe nodded. "I know. But these are special circumstances. We need someone with your… unique history."

Methos' curiosity was piqued. "Why?"

Joe sighed. "Have you ever heard of the Hellmouth?"

Methos groaned.

Joe smiled slightly. "I'll take that as a yes." When Methos nodded, he continued. "There's a young immortal there. Well soon to-be-immortal. We think something has happened. Our contacts witnessed something… strange. They're not really sure what it means. But…"

"Since it's on the Hellmouth, you can't be sure of anything." Methos surmised.

Joe nodded. "Will you go? Check it out? See if what they think they saw actually happened? Maybe he just had one to many Irish whiskeys." He tried to laugh, but he came out strangled.

Methos stood up. "I'll go, but you owe me."

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet." He turned to leave, but then stopped. "This Hellmouth, where is it."

"Sunnydale, California."

*****

Willow awoke feeling strange. It was nothing like what she had expected. She didn't feel like a killer. She still felt like Willow, only stronger. More powerful. Before she could think about the changes anymore, Willow felt this uncontrollable feeling wash over her. It took her a moment to realize what it was. Hunger. She climbed out of the bed, and went in search of Spike.

Her senses were on overdrive. Her eyesight was amazing. Even through the darkened hallways of Spike house, she could see clearly. She could also hear things. She sound of the wind as it blew quietly amongst the trees. The faint sounds of birds chirping in the pre-dawn hours. Her heartbeat. She froze. Her heartbeat? That wasn't right. She shouldn't have a heartbeat.

She brushed the troubling thought aside, thinking she wasn't yet accustomed to her new senses.

She inhaled sharply, the smell of blood calling to her. She turned around and found Spike watching her intently, holding out a wineglass filled with a red liquid, she instinctively new was blood.

"You're awake." He handed her the glass, which she took, and drank, savoring the taste as it slid down her throat.

She watched as Spike stared at her. After a moment, he raised an eyebrow.

"What is it?" She asked, looking behind her.

"You're alive." His vice was tainted with disbelief.

Willow looked at him strangely. "Wasn't that the point?"

"No, Luv. You're alive." He took a step closer, and grabbed her hand, placing it above her own heart.

At feel of her heart beating, Willow's other hand dropped the wineglass, and it shattered on the floor, by her feet.

****

Methos let his mind wander as he drove his car into the Sunnydale city limits. It had been a long time since he had been to a Hellmouth. A lifetime ago. He thought back to a time long past. To the Hellmouth, to his friend.

// Flashback - Somewhere in Europe Early 1500's //

Methos entered the town, his senses highly attuned to the power here. He wondered what it was about this town. It spoke of death, and of things that should not be. He wondered what had brought his old friend here. No matter. Joseph had asked him to come, so he had.

He felt a strange tingling in the back of his senses as he knocked on the heavy iron door. He waited several moments before the door swung opened.

"Methos, old friend. So good of you to come."

"Joseph" Methos smiled. There was something different about Joseph. Something he couldn't quite place. The feeling was similar to that which the town itself gave off. Something deadly. Something eternal. He watched as his friends' face shifted into that of a demon. His mind was filled with understanding.

"You're a vampire." He stated, only mildly surprised. He didn't know why he wasn't more shocked. Perhaps it was the irony of the situation. "When did this happen?"

Joseph laughed. "A few years. But that's not why I've called you here. I want to share something with you. Something wonderful."

//End Flashback//

Methos shook his head, willing the memories away. A lot had happened since then. Things he could have never foreseen. And now he was back, on a Hellmouth. It was a different Hellmouth, but he could feel the presence of evil all around.

As Methos entered the hotel room, his mind wandered back to the reason of his visit. An immortal vampire. That was something he had never seen, if it was true. Sure, immortal's had been embraced, but never as their first death. Never like this. This girl, what would she be like? Would she be a viscous creature of the night like so many vampires he had met? Would she be mad with power like some of his kind? Would she be stronger than both? Could she be the one? The one he had heard spoken about in hushed whispers for countless centuries? The one who would change the rules?

*****

Willow stood still for a minute. The only sound was that of her own heartbeat. She could hear it pounding in her ears. She could feel the rise and fall of her chest. She held her breath for a moment, only to gasp when she realized she still needed to breathe.

Willow walked cautiously to the front door. She placed her hand on the doorknob, hesitating for a moment, unsure of what she was doing. She steeled herself for the burning pain as she opened the door, allowing the sun to touch her flesh. She winced in anticipation for the pain. After a few seconds she opened her eyes and looked up at the blaring sun. A sight she believed she would never witness again. She slammed the door, blocking out the sight, another reminder of the creature she had become.

She slid to the floor, and collapsed in a heap, sobbing uncontrollably. She felt her tears fall and cried harder when she looked up to see the red tears staining her skin. It wasn't until she felt Spike's strong arms surrounding her and lifting her off of the floor that she remembered she was not alone.

Willow felt him carry her back into the bedroom, and lay her gently on the bed. He climbed in next to her, rubbing circles soothingly on her back. She lent into his touch as he tried to comfort her. Her last thought before sleep claimed her was of how very alone she was, even in death.

*****

Buffy walked into Giles living room and looked around. "Where's Willow?" She asked as she sat in an empty chair.

"Not here." Anya spoke as she looked up from a large book.

Buffy frowned. "She's not here? She didn't come home last night, and she didn't show up for classes this morning."

"I'm sure she's fine." Giles tried to reassure the slayer.

"Yeah, she probably needed some time alone after the whole Oz thing." Xander offered. "Did you check her parents house?"

Buffy shook her head as she stood up. "No, I'll stop by there before I meet Riley for Patrol. I'll check back after." She told the group as she headed out of the door."

Xander looked from his book to the closing door and then back again. "Why is it, she gets to go out with her Mr. Stud, why we get stuck here sifting through dusty volumes looking for some reference to an obscure prophecy?"

Giles glared, ignoring the youth, while Anya patted his arm lightly.

****

Angel entered the office, and noticed Cordelia sitting on the couch, clutching her head. Wesley entered, bringing some of Cordelia's bottled water and some aspirin.

"Another vision?" He asked as he stepped closer.

Cordelia groaned as she snatched the water. She glared up at her boss. "What was your first clue?"

Angel ignored her sarcastic tone and sat down next to her. "What did you see?"

Cordelia frowned as she tried to sort through the images. "Strange. I saw Willow. She was with Spike." She paused, trying to connect all the dots in her head. "But that wasn't the strange part. S e was fighting someone. With… With a sword." She looked at Angel questioningly. "Since when did Willow take up fencing?"

Angel stood up and headed into his office. Cordelia's vision, at least what he'd heard of it didn't make any sense. What was Spike doing back in Sunnydale? And what was he doing with Willow? If he didn't know better, Angel would have thought Cordelia had been wrong. But her visions were always accurate.

****

Buffy knocked on the Rosenbergs front door several times. Not getting an answer, she decided to check Willow's room. She climbed up to her balcony, and peered into the window. Not seeing any movement, she tried the French doors. Finding them unlocked, she entered, and looked around. The house was dark, and didn't look like anyone had been there in awhile.

Just as she made her into the livingroom, the telephone rang. After a moment's hesitation, Buffy decided to answer it.

"Hello?"

There was a pause. "Buffy?"

"Angel?" Buffy asked confused. What was Angel doing calling Willow? Did he call her often? She shook her head at the unimportant thoughts.

"Where's Willow?" Angel asked, pushing away his worried thoughts.

"I don't know. I haven't seen her since yesterday, so I came to check her house." She paused and then decided to ask the question that had been at the back of her mind since she answered the phone. "Why are you calling? Do you often call here? Is something wrong?"

"Buffy." Angel spoke impatiently. "I don't have time for this. When did you see her last?"

"Yesterday. She didn't come home last night and didn't show up to class this morning." She explained "We thought she might be here. She needed some time to herself."

"When yesterday?" He asked, as his mind latched onto the last thing Buffy said. "Why would she need time alone?"

Buffy frowned in confusion for a moment. "After the whole Oz-thing. She's been kind of depressed."

"Oz thing? Nevermind." Angel hung up before she could confuse him any more. After a moment to think about what he had learned, he returned to the lobby.

"She's missing." He told Cordelia and Wesley.

Cordelia stood up. "Well, what are we waiting for? Lets go."

*****

Buffy stared at the phone and then placed it on the receiver. "That was strange." She mumbled to herself. She shrugged as she left the house and headed towards the fraternity to meet with Riley.

*****

Methos parked the car and took a look around. He looked down at the address Joe had given him. He appeared to be in the right place, but it was hardly where he expected to meet a member of the Watcher's Council. Every contact he had ever had with those imbeciles had instilled the belief that, despite their direct involvement with the Slayer, they were a group of uptight tweed-clad business men who wouldn't know which end of the vampire they were supposed to stick the stake into.

Not that his branch of the council was much better, but at least they had the excuse of not being directly involved in what went on around them. They were only required to watch, not to interfere.

He stood in front of the door, and could hear voices on the other side. Methos decided to take a peek in the window. Maybe he could get an idea of what to expect. He hadn't planned on the watcher having company.

Inside there were five people. Three teenagers and a man who he was guessing was the watcher he had come to see. The teenagers were an oddity. He gathered that if the man was indeed a watcher, one of the two girls present must be the Slayer. The blond he gathered. There was something… off about her. And the other girl, he sensed something strange about her as well. However he didn't get a good look at her, she seemed to be attached to the boy by the lips. Typical teenagers.

Methos stepped back and knocked. When the door was opened, he looked passed the children and set his gaze on the man.

"I'm looking for a Rupert Giles."

Giles stood up. "That's me. Can I help you with something?"

Methos walked into the house and held out a hand. "I'm Adam Pierson. Joe Dawson sent me to come see you."

Giles eyed Methos carefully before taking his offered hand. "Do come in." He turned around to the others in the room. "We're finished here."

"Buffy, why don't you go and… do that thing we were talking about." Giles looked pleadingly at his Slayer, silently hoping she would take the hint.

"Yeah, I'll do that. But if you hear from Willow you'll let me know." Giles nodded and Buffy disappeared out the front door.

Giles turned towards Xander and Anya who were still obliviously making out on the couch. He cleared his throat and the couple came apart. Methos hid his smile as he watched the boy jump off of the couch.

"Why don't you guys… go and do whatever it is that you do." Giles told the youth. Had Giles been paying less attention to Xander, and more to Anya he would have noticed her face paling at the sight of his visitor.

Anya stood up and walked to the door. "Come one Xander." She walked out of the house without hazarding another look at the immortal.

Methos shook his head. He could have sworn he knew her. But that was impossible. He turned back to Giles.

"Would you like some tea?" Giles asked as he walked into his kitchen and put a kettle on.

"No thank you." Methos answered politely.

When Giles returned to the living room, he sat down on the couch Anya and Xander had previously occupied.

"So, you're a watcher? What brings you to the Hellmouth?" Giles asked, getting straight to the point.

*****

Willow awoke to the feel of Spikes arms still wrapped securely around her. She was thankful for that. She was afraid he was going to leave her. She didn't know what was going on. She was a vampire. Wasn't she? He had drained her. She had drunk his blood. She had died. She could feel the hunger for blood, the demon that lived within her. But yet, she still breathed, her heart still beat.

When she opened her eyes, she found Spikes blue eyes watching her.

"How do you feel, luv?" He asked, concerned.

"I'm… okay, I guess." She extricated herself from the comfort of his embrace. "I'm hungry though." She looked at him, fear in her green eyes. "I don't think I can kill. Spike, what's happening to me? Do I still have my soul?"

Spike pulled her back into his arms. "I don't know, baby. Maybe we should go to the watchers?" He suggested, not really liking the idea, but he didn't understand what had happened. The sooner the figured it out, the sooner they could get on with their unlives.

Willow shook her head. "No, I can't face them, not like this. They'll try and kill me." She looked up at him, tears forming in her eyes. "Maybe that would be for the best." She said sadly.

"No!" Spike squeezed her tightly. "We'll go to the watcher's. But first…" He pulled her to a sitting position and held his wrist out to her. "You need to eat."

Willow looked at his offered wrist hesitantly and then felt her features change. She bit into him and lapped hungrily at her Sire's blood. Once she was sated, she retracted her fangs and licked at the puncture wounds.

Spike pulled her off of the bed with him. "Why don't you take a shower and get dressed. I'll be back."

Willow nodded and watched him leave the room. S he knew he was going to feed, and despite the fact that her soul was still apparently intact, the idea didn't bother her as much as she thought it should have.

She walked into the bathroom and stripped. Once in the shower, she let the scalding temperature wash over her. She felt strong. Stronger than ever before. Stronger than she ever thought she would feel. S he supposed it was from Spike's blood. Angel had told her once that Sire's blood was strong, and could heal almost anything instantly.

She tried not to think about what was happening to her, or how she would explain it to Giles. S he realized, due to her 'condition' that she could probably play off her humanity, and no one would ever know the difference. Her heard still beat, her lungs still worked, and even her body temperature was normal, for a mortal. But she wasn't was she? Not mortal, and not normal. She wasn't human any more, but she wasn't vampire either, at least not like any vampire she had ever met.

She sighed heavily as she climbed out of the shower and began to get dressed. When she returned to the bedroom, Spike was waiting for her.

The couple left the house and walked silently through the night air. Just as they entered Giles building, Willow collapsed. There was this buzzing in her head. T was like a headache really. It was more like a sense she didn't know she had was alerting her to some unforeseen danger.

"Red?" Spike asked concerned as he pulled her to her feet.

"I'm fine." She said as she regained her balance. She looked around, trying to place the source of her discomfort.

*****

Methos was trying to explain the situation to the watcher without giving away too many details. He had only told him that the council believed that a pre-immortal had been attacked by a vampire, and that they were unsure as to what the consequences would be if the vampire had changed his victim instead of merely draining them.

He was just about to continue with is somewhat vague explanation when he felt the familiar sensation, which told him another immortal was nearby. He turned back towards the front door, and stifled the urge to draw his sword. He had a feeling that the immortal he was sensing was the one they were now discussing.

Giles turned at the knock at the door. He was staring strangely at his guest. Mr. Pierson had seemed to be alerted to the presence outside the door before the knock even sounded.

"Willow?" He asked when he opened the door. "Where have you been? Buffy was worried."

Willow smiled slightly at Giles, and then her eyes were drawn to the man standing behind him. She didn't recognize him, but there was something about him, which drew her attention.

"You know what's happened to me, don't you?" She asked him.

Giles looked from Willow to his guest and then back again. He wondered briefly why she was still standing outside. "Come on in." He waved her inside.

Willow turned around and looked back into the night. She smiled slightly and faced Giles. "I have someone with me. Can he come in too?" She asked.

Giles looked at her for a second. "Yes, come in."

Willow smiled and stepped over the threshold. Spike followed her in, smirking at the astonished look on Giles face. "Watcher." He turned towards Methos. "Who's this bloke?"

Willow smiled and turned towards Spike. "He knows what I am." She turned to face the immortal, "Don't you?"

****

Willow stepped out of the motel room and looked around in interest.  "So this is
where you live?"  She turned to look at her fellow immortal.

Methos smiled wryly.  "For now."

"And you live alone?"  She asked eyeing him carefully.

"For now."  Methos' lips quirked slightly. "I thought we were here to find out
about you, not dissect my life."

"Where's this friend of yours?"  Spike's gruff tones interrupted whatever Willow
was about to say.

Methos handed Willow a piece of paper with an address.  "Joe Dawson.  He owns
this club."

Willow took the piece of paper and studied it carefully, suddenly unsure of what
it was she was doing.  Methos must have noticed her indecision because he smiled
slightly at her.

"It's up to you, but if you don't go, you may never know."  He turned and
started walking away.

"Will you be there?"  She called after him.

Methos stopped and turned around.  "I'll be around."

Once Methos had disappeared from her enhanced vision she turned and faced her
Sire.  "He's hiding something."

Spike's eyes narrowed.  "What?"

Willow shook her head.  "I don't know."  She grinned as she stepped closer to
Spike.  "But he intrigues me.  We'll go and meet this friend of his."

Spike nodded, not liking this idea, but knowing she needed answers.  "Are you
hungry?"

Willow grinned liking the idea, but then she frowned as she realized what a meal
would contain.  "I can't."  She took a deep shuddering breath.   "I can't. live
like this, Spike.  I don't know who or what I am.  Am I a vampire, or something
else?"

Spike pulled her into his arms.  "You're Willow.  My Childe.  My mate." He
pressed his lips to hers firmly, parting them with his tongue.  He explored the
inside of her unnaturally warm mouth with his cooler tongue, tasting everything
that she was, silently telling her that she was his, and nothing would change
that.

****

   Methos pulled into the parking lot of Joe's place.  He knew he should have
just gone home, maybe get a few hours sleep.  He didn't think his new 'friends'
would be showing up until later.

  He had a feeling that they were probably out, right now, looking for dinner.
He had no delusions about what that entailed, and while he didn't wish death on
anyone, well almost anyone, he knew that Willow and Spike would do what they
needed to do to survive, just as he had, for countless centuries.

  Methos shook his head from thoughts of the two vampires, he entered the bar,
his eyes automatically searching for the reason he knew it was stupid for him to
be here.

  He felt the presence before he saw him.  It was like a tickling of his senses,
so unlike the presence of others of his kind.

"Hey, Old Man.  You're back."

Methos turned around and smiled slightly at the grinning face, which had come up
behind him.  He followed the immortal to a table in the corner, taking the
offered beer, and sitting down.

  The two immortal's turned their attention to the band that was playing,
neither saying anything, just enjoying the silent company.  The band's first set
was nearly finished when Joe walked over.

"How'd it go?"  Joe asked quietly as he pulled up a chair and sat down.

Methos looked up at the watcher and frowned.  "You were right."

Joe thought about what it was Methos was saying.  "She's Immortal?  Or a
vampire?"

The feel of another immortal approaching caused both Richie and Methos to turn
their heads towards the door.

Richie took in the site of the two people who had walked in.  The man wasn't
immortal, but dangerous nonetheless.  He could tell that about him.  He had
bleached hair, and this cold expression in his eyes as he searched the room.
The woman was beautiful.  Her hair was like fire, and her skin was slightly
pale.  She was also searching the room.  Eventually her eyes found their table
and they started walking towards them.  Richie smiled.

Methos chuckled slightly as he turned back to Joe.  "She's both."

*****

   Angel arrived in Sunnydale only two and a half-hours after Cordelia's vision.
He had convinced them to stay in Los Angeles to keep an eye on things, since he
wasn't sure what was going on.

  Cordelia had been difficult to convince.  But Wesley saw the logic in staying
in LA.  Angel told them that he could handle his Childe, and left town before
they could protest further.

  On the drive to Sunnydale, he thought about Cordelia's vision, and what it
could mean.  She had said she saw Willow fighting, with a sword.  He thought
about all the different reasons for that, and he didn't like the conclusion he
was drawing.

He tried to think of a dozen other reasons than the one he could come up with,
but he knew, as much as he hated to admit it, that the first one he had reached,
was the correct answer.

  He parked his car a few blocks from Giles building and walked.  He didn't want
to run into Buffy if it was at all possible to avoid her.  About half a block
from the condo, Angel's enhanced hearing picked up the sound of familiar voices.

"I don't care what you say.  There was something wrong with that guy."   Xander's
voice reached Angel.  He sounded worried.

"It's nothing, honey."  Anya tried placating Xander.

Angel cringed inwardly at the endearment, and then pushed the thought away as he
continued to listen.

"Anya, There is something weird about him.  Maybe he was a vamp, or a demon or
something."

Angel stepped closer to the couple as he continued to listen.

Anya patted Xander on the shoulder.  "Sweetie, it's fine.  He's nobody.   Now,
come on, let's go have sex."

Angel cringed inwardly again.  He watched as Anya started walking away.  It took
him a minute before he realized Xander hadn't moved.  In fact, the boy seemed to
be rooted in place.  His face was bathed in a yellow light from the street lamp,
and Xander could see an odd expression on his face.  His jaw was clenching and
unclenching.

"Anya."  Xander's voice had a tense note to it the vampire recognized.

The former vengeance demon stopped and turned around.  "What?"

"What do you know?"  Xander asked, each word being pronounced carefully, telling
anyone who cared to listen that he would not except anything but the truth in
answer.

Angel stepped forward into the light.  "That's what I'd like to know."

 Xander swirled around, clutching his chest as his heart rate began to sky
rocket.

"Deadboy!  Don't sneak up on a guy like that!"  Xander relaxed when he realized
who had spoken.

Angel smiled wryly.  "Sorry."  Though he wasn't really.  He was enjoying the
flushed look on Xander's cheeks from the small scare.

Xander turned back around to face his girlfriend who was looking at the two of
them, with a strange look on her face.

"Well, Anya?"  Xander asked, and it was clear he hadn't forgotten what they were
discussing before Angel appeared out of the shadows.

Anya looked up into Xander's face, but avoided his eyes.  "It's nothing, really.
I knew him. once."

Angel stepped forward and grabbed her arm slightly.  "Knew him?   When?"

"When you were a demon?"  Xander demanded.

Anya nodded and looked from Angel's grip on her arm to Xander's face.  "Yes,
when I was a demon."  Her voice was quiet, but both men heard her.

"When?"  Angel asked again.

"Seven-hundred and sixty three years ago."

****

"What?" Xander turned to his girlfriend. "Is he a demon?"

Anya looked away from Xander and down to her own feet. "Not exactly."

"Not exactly?" Xander repeated. He stepped closer. "Then what *exactly*
is he?"

Anya didn't answer and Xander was loosing patience. "Anya." He growled
out.

Angel's eyes widened at the sound and the irritation he felt coming from the
mortal. He placed a hand on his shoulder. "Immortal." He spoke softly.

Xander turned his dark eyes to the vampire, silently questioning.

"He's immortal." Angel told him then turned to the former demon. "Isn't
that right?"

Anya looked up, slightly surprised. "You know about immortals?" She paused
a second. "Who are you? You look familiar. Do I know you?"

Xander groaned. "Anya, Angel. Angel, Anya, now can we please move on?"

Anya opened her mouth as if to speak, then shut it again. Finally she
turned to Angel. "You know about immortals?" She repeated her first
question.

"I've met a few." Angel offered cryptically.

Anya started to back away. "Well then, you two can go, do whatever, and I'
ll just go. home." Anya turned around and started to leave when Xander's
voice stopped her.

"Anya." The one word spoken with such intensity Anya couldn't do anything
but stop and face the mortal. "What are you afraid of?"

Anya raised her eyes to Xander. "He's. death." The whispered word was full
of some kind of fear. "I can't afford to get involved, Xander. Not now,
while I'm mortal. I could get hurt."

Anya moved away from the two men, a sad expression in her eyes.

Xander watched her walk away, not sure what he could say to stop her from
leaving. He wasn't even sure if there was anything *to* say, or if he even
wanted to make the effort.

He and Anya had a nice thing going, they did. She was a nice girl, well
demon-turned-girl, but it wasn't anything substantial. It wasn't anything
he could really see lasting a lifetime.

As it was now, he had too much too worry about to add Anya's immanent
departure to the long list of life's failures. He still didn't know exactly
what had happened to Willow or who that guy was who came to see Giles, and
now Deadboy, the poster-boy for what not to be when you grow up, was here.
Like he needed the added stress.

"Is she always like that?" Angel broke the silence. "So."

"Don't start, Deadboy!" Xander warned.

". Flaky?" Angel continued, heedless of the warning.

Xander turned dark eyes to the vampire. There were a lot of things he
wanted to say. Biting witticisms which would have left soul-boy
gratifyingly speechless, but in the end he set his irritation aside and
settled for a request for the information he was now certain the vampire
possessed.

"Okay, Deadboy, what do you know?"

"Excuse me?" Angel asked, surprised. He was certain this was where the
insults began, and if he were being honest with himself, he would admit that
he was almost looking forward to them.

"I said," Xander began, his voice tense, "What do you know?"

"What makes you think I know anything?" Angel asked curiously.

Xander rolled his eyes. "You're here aren't you? Or do you usually skulk
around in Sunnydale after people you don't like and haven't seen in months?"

"I don't skulk." Angel sounded almost petulant.

"Whatever." Xander shook his head and began walking towards his house.

Angel followed behind him and after nearly ten minutes, Xander reached the
door to his basement. He opened it and stepped inside, the door ajar.
Almost as an afterthought, Xander popped his head back outside.

"Don't just stand there. Come in, Deadboy."

Angel blinked in something akin to shock. "You don't think I'm gonna come
and kill you in your sleep?"

Xander grinned slightly. "I don't sleep. much, at least not lately." He
sobered. "Now what's this about immortals?"

*****

Joe Dawson looked up at the couple moving towards them. "That's her?" He
asked quietly. "She's immortal. and a vampire? How is that possible?"

"That's what we came to find out, mate." The blond vampire spoke as he and
the redhead pulled up a couple of chairs from a nearby table.

The table the group was seated at was getting kind of crowded and Richie had
the sudden urge to flee but his curiosity was piqued.

"Willow, Spike," Methos started the introductions. "This is Richie Ryan,"
He nodded towards his friend then turned to Joe. "And this, is Joe Dawson,
the man I told you about."

Willow eyed the older man carefully. "Can you tell me what I am?"

Joe stared at the young woman for a long second before responding. "I think
so. Why don't you tell me what happened?"

Methos looked around the bar briefly, aware of how crowded it was at that
hour. Richie, noticing the Old Man's preoccupation, made a suggestion.

"Maybe we should move this somewhere else?"

Joe nodded, suddenly aware of exactly how busy his club had become. He
stood up and moved towards a private office in the back of the club. It was
filled with assorted bookshelves lining two separate walls. A third wall
was covered in a wide shelf which held various artifacts from times long
pasts.

Once everyone was inside, Joe locked the door and moved over to take a seat
at the lone table in the room. There were four chairs surrounding the oval
table. Richie and Methos took a seat, followed shortly by Willow. Spike
remained standing, leaning against the one bare wall.

"Three days ago, I died. I think." Willow began. She tilted her head up
and caught Spike's gaze with her own. Spike nodded almost imperceptibly and
Willow turned back to the one mortal man in the room.

"I was turned into a vampire, or so I thought."

Joe looked from Willow to Spike and then back again, wanting to ask
questions but all too aware how dangerous these two really were.

"She died." Spike spoke. "I drained her, and fed her my blood. I made her
like me."

"But when I woke up," Willow continued, "something was wrong. I'm still
alive, still breathing. My heart still beats." Her voice had risen in
slight panic and the ridges on her face had begun to form.

"Whoa." Richie's startled gasp summed up Joe's reaction.

Joe Dawson had known vampires existed. He had heard about them, read about
them, both in books of myth and legend and in the chronicles of watchers,
both new and old. Vampires had existed almost since the beginning of time,
since long before the first known immortal was written about.

Still, knowing they existed was a far cry from seeing one, up close and
personal.

Joe cleared his throat before speaking. "Was there anything unusual in the.
turning?" He turned to the blond vampire. "I assume you've done this
before?"

Spike snorted. "You could say that."

Joe nodded and then stood up and made his way over to one of the
bookshelves. After a few minutes of searching he returned with a dusty old
tomb. It reminded Willow of Giles and some of the books they had studied
over the years.

"There's a legend," Joe began as he sat dawn and opened the book to page
towards the back.

Richie's eyes widened slightly. He had recognized the symbol on the cover.
It was almost identical to one on the cover of a book that Methos owned.
His eyes moved to the oldest among them. Methos locked eyes with him,
telling him more than he needed to know in that one look.

Richie turned back to Joe as the watcher began speaking, wondering exactly
what it was they had gotten involved in this time. And if they would survive
it.
 
 

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