Spike
I think I finally managed to close my mouth by the time she sat down across from me.
Willow.
It was reallyher. All five-foot-two inches of her. Same red hair—same green eyes—
Willow.
She cleared her throat and nervously tucked her much longer hair behind her ear and sighed.
I'd seen her do that same movement hundreds of times—from when I crazily kidnapped her and the whelp to the two years I worked side by side with her.
It was unreal.
"I really didn't expect to see you for another fifty years or so," she said, her voice so casual that anyone else would think she was talking of the weather. But not me. I heard the rapid beat of her heart, the oh-so-very slight tremor in her hands as she traced the table around the beer mug. She looked over to where she had been standing just a few minutes before—watching one human in particular. He was tall, over six feet, with dark brown hair; a deep tan and definitely well built. "There's really no proper etiquette to follow when you're Immortal. You just start a new life, keep it awhile until people get suspicious and then move on—even if you're old life actually had room for your immortality…"
I couldn't help myself.
I had heard of Immortals, but never actually believed in their existence. I had always believed they were a myth, devised by demons jealous of human's ability to live in the sun. I mean, immortality without a demon? A pipe dream.
So, I had to do it—touch her, you know.
Make sure her skin was as hot and as alive as I remembered it to be…
I lifted my hand and cupped her face, sucking in an unneeded breath when I felt her blood rushing underneath that thin layer of skin.
Hot, throbbing—a beating heart resided in her. I could almost feel her blood pump wildly—
Wait, did it just quicken with my touch?
I looked up into her eyes just in time to catch them closing as a small whimper slipped through her lips.
Grinning, I pushed back the chair and was by her side and had her in my arms in seconds. Lifting her up by the waist, I twirled our bodies around, oblivious of the stares of the other customers.
Her giggles were music to my ears.
Willow was alive.
And she was Immortal.
Willow
I'd always loved Oz. People liked to say I was a lot like my namesake, but I always believed Oz was even more of a willow tree than I.
Nothing ever broke him or shattered his existence. Even my death. I kept tabs—the best I could. Not only was he strong for himself, but he held up Buffy as well and became her strength.
I cried tears of elation and anger when I found out about their engagement and subsequentmarriage. Happiness that two of the four people I worried about and loved the most had found someone to turn to. And anger at my life—my fate, which tore me out of his arms way before I was ready to let go.
And Xander, he found love in the most unlikely of places—Amy. Like Oz and Buffy, they turned to each other to find solace in the arms of another childhood friend who had known me even before I wore pigtails.
But Spike. He's the one I lost the most sleep about.
For the two years that he helped us out on the Hellmouth, he became my friend, confidant and protector.
And in my heart, the other man I loved.
Once I became Immortal, it was that love that kept me strong. All those months of training and fighting—learning much more than how to stake an errant vampire and how to throw your attacker off you.
No, my lessons were to teach me how to kill.
Oh Goddess, I hated it. And I still do. In the seven years since I've been thrown into this life, I've been challenged ten times.
Ten headless corpses could now be attributed to me—little Willow.
Ten lives stain my aura.
And hundreds of Quickenings now reside in my body.
Through all that—it was the knowledge that one day—I'd be able to take a hold of just a piece of my past life and be able to hold it close to my heart—that kept me from failing and becoming one of those headless corpses.
So, when he picked me up and twirled us about, I felt something in my heart crack—almost as if pieces of me were clawing to get out and be felt. Wrapping my arms around him, I clung to him—chest heaving as tears racked my body.
For the first time in seven years, I felt like Willow again.