Author: P.Martin
E-Mail: ladyofsilver@hotmail.com
Rating PG, but will go up
Disclaimer: All things Buffy belong to Joss.  I certainly don't own them.
Spoilers: Season 5 of BtVS
Summary:  After being gone from Sunnydale for a hundred years, Willow comes back looking for something....And Spike wasn't what she was
expecting.
Notes: W/S fic.  I have no idea where this is going so some feedback would  be great, along with any ideas you might have.
Feedback:  please.
 
 

~Part 1~

The Sunnydale streets were empty and silent but for the orange glow of street lights up and down the sidewalks.  After years of being gone the
streets of Sunnydale still seemed as if something were missing.  There should be people walking down them, or a demon or two running around or at
least a vampire causing trouble, but then Willow had to admit that even though she had changed she couldn't expect Sunnydale to change right along with her.

When Willow had first learned about the things that went bump in the night, she had no idea that she'd still be fighting them now, years later as an
immortal warrior for the higher powers.  After Buffy had died against Glory, something had just broken inside of her.  So she had left looking for
something, anything to give meaning to what was now her life.  A purpose, and along the way she had come across her purpose.  The higher powers had given her one and they had given her a way to survive on her journey.  In return for her fighting evil for the cause of good they had given her everlasting life.  As long as she fought the forces of evil she would live, but the minute that she gave up she would revert back to mortal life and continue as a mortal.

But everything that was familiar and good was gone and there was no use in being a mortal again.  All her friends were dead or gone so Willow had
decided that if she couldn't be mortal she might as well search for a reason to stay alive and keep fighting evil.

Everything and everyone from her former life was gone.  Buffy had been long dead since her fateful battle with Glory, Giles had died of old age and
natural causes.  Tara had long since left and Xander and Anya had lived long and happy lives away from the Hellmouth, producing many offspring and Dawn, she was long gone too, grown up, married.  She had lived, just like Buffy had wanted her too, and she had died, peacefully and quietly in her sleep.

Willow had no idea what she was doing back in Sunnydale.  Here in this place of her childhood it reminded her of a life filled with sunlight, laughter,
hope and longed for love.  But after a hundred years of fighting evil and living in the dark it was kind of hard to imagine a life with light in it.

Perhaps that was why she now found herself here.  Maybe I'll find it here, she thought.  It, she thought.  Hope, a reason.  I've come full circle now.  I left Sunnydale to find a purpose and now I've come back to find another.

Shaking out of her introspection, Willow thought to herself, now to find a place to stay for the night.  Walking down the deserted street, Willow now known as The Powers Fire, headed in the direction of her former home.

Upon arriving at her former home she found the lights ablaze and walking into the house she came upon an unexpected scene.

Spike, William the Bloody, Master Vampire, the Big Bad and perhaps a couple of other names, was making himself at home in 'her' house, and from the looks of it, had been doing so for quite some time.  After little more than a hundred years she had expected Spike to be long gone, dust or at least as far away from Sunnydale as possible.

He was lounging on the sofa, his familiar duster slung over the back and he was clad in a black shirt, his customary red over shirt unbuttoned and a
pair of black jeans and his boot clad feet resting on the coffee table in front of him while he held a bottle of beer next to him.  He hadn't changed
a single bit since she had left.

"What the hell are you doing here Spike?"  Willow exclaimed.

"Who the bloody hell are you?"  Spike eyed the red headed stranger.  "And how the sodden hell do you know who I am?"  She looked familiar, he thought. The stranger had long, bright red hair in a braid thrown over one shoulder and she was wearing a long, blood read cape that swept the ground around her.  Under the cape he could see a pair of black leather knee high boots, and going up were a pair of black leather pants and to finish the appearance was a black cotton tank top.

Taking another drink from his beer bottle, Spike glared at the stranger.  She wasn't human and yet she wasn't a vamp either.  He didn't know what to make of her.  Obviously she was wrong headed in that she thought that Red's house was hers.  Well he would show her a thing or two....as soon as the room stopped spinning or he sobered up.  Whichever came first.

Walking further into the house she repeated, "Spike, what are you doing here in my house?"

Still not recognizing her Spike said, "Isn't your house.  It's Red's.  Moved in when she left, but that was 'bout a hundred years ago or so."

Amused now, Willow said, "Just about.  Obviously you haven't been keeping track of all of us Spike."

"I know the Slayers dead and so are all of those annoying slayerettes."

"Not all of us are dead Spike.  Some of us have managed to stay alive.  So, you still have that chip or what?"

"Red?"

"Well, who else owns this house and knew about that chip in your head?  Oh, and it's not Red and it's not Willow.  You may have heard of me, they like to call me The Power's Fire for some reason.  Must be the hair," Willow said with a small laugh.  It had been a long time since she had laughed, or even smiled.  Maybe coming back to Sunnydale was a good idea after all.

Standing up drunkenly, Spike said, "Can't be alive, Red's dead," laughing Spike continued, "Now I'm back to spoutin' poetry." Then Spike passed out on her living room rug.

Sighing Willow walked all the way into the house closing the door behind her and looked down at Spike.  "Somehow, Spike, I don't think you're going to be much help to me like this."
 

~Part 2~

"Spike."  He sleeps like the dead, Willow thought.  Well, he is technically dead she reminded herself.  Noticing that he hadn't responded she repeated, "Spike, wake up."

"Dun wanna," he said petulantly into the cushioning of the couch, burrowing further into the coach under the light blanket she had put over him the
night before after he had drunkenly passed out.

"Spike!"  Willow yelled.

"Wha...What the bloody hell do you want, woman?"  Spike exclaimed after he had jumped off of the couch at the sound of a woman's yelling his name...and it wasn't in fear or in passion either.  Slowly the figure before him became clearer as he shook the last stages of sleep from his eyes.  "And who are you?"

Deciding to have a little fun Willow pouted, "Oh, Spike baby, you mean you don't remember? "

"If I remembered whatever happened last night I wouldn't be askin' you now would I, you damned chit."  Staring at her.  He couldn't quite place her but he was starting to remember parts of last night.  The only thing he could remember clearly was thinking that Red had come back from the dead...and something about poetry.

"But, baby, you told me we could be together forever, for all eternity.  I can't believe that you don't remember.  You said I was your forever"  Willow whined, all the while laughing silently to herself.

"I did?"  at her nod he thought back , but couldn't remember going out at all except to get some beer.  Then taking a closer look at her he decided to take whatever the hell she was offering.  "Well then, luv, why don't you come on over here and give your Spike here a mornin' kiss."

Having decided that fun time was over, and not wanting to revive old feelings that she had thought long gone, Willow straitened up and said
sharply, "No, how about you tell me what the hell your doing in my home, Spike."

As soon as her voice had sharpened it hit Spike strait in the middle of his head, creating  a chain reaction of pounding in his skull, "Oh, damn.  Why'd you have to go and start screeching now, pet?"

Not taking any offense at his comment Willow replied, "Answer the question Spike."

" I live here now.  When Red's parents moved out and then Red left after the slayer's death, I moved in.  Didn't know anyone else had owned this house after her.  If I'd a known that one day I'd wake up to this I'd have moved away a long time ago."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't stake you right here and right now?"

"How 'bout this, I don't know you, you don't know me and I haven't done anything to you?"

"Oh, but Spike," Willow purred as she walked right up to him and stood not a foot away from him placing both hand on his shoulders, "you do know me.  I told you last night."

Spike had no idea what to make of the stranger in front of him.  She wasn't mortal, she didn't have the stench of imminent death hanging over her and yet she wasn't a demon either.  There was no sense of evil around her.  "Well why don't you go ahead and remind me then, luv."

"I told you last night Spike, you should have kept track of all of us after Buffy died.  I know I certainly did.  Though I didn't know that you were
still in Sunnydale."

Realization finally came and Willow could see it in his still beautiful blue eyes when he finally remembered who she was, "Red?"

"Oh, so you remember now, do you?  Well that's good.  Saves me the extra time telling you that I'm me and that I'm alive. Oh, and whatever happened to that chip of yours Spike?"

Willow had changed over the years.  He still had no idea how she was still alive but for some odd reason he was glad that she was.  He noticed that she was more comfortable in her stance and her presence gave off more confidence.  She also excluded power that was, if he was actually scared of her, frightening.  She had become more powerful.  Not to mention the fact that she was more beautiful then ever.  She had grown her hair long again and her style in clothing had vastly improved, at least to his way of thinking.  Answering her question he said, "Got tired of the thing.  Went to Peaches and had him take it out."

"Oh?  Well, how did he get it out? "

"How else would he do it?  He got one of those head doctors to get it out and this time it worked..., " he said trailing off, lost in hi sown thoughts
about the past.

"So how come you haven't been creating death and mayhem in your wake?"  Willow asked curious.

"Because he got some witch to give me a soul, is how come.  I go under with the chip in my head and I come out with a soul, but hey no chip, he says.  I should have been happy.  But instead I was attached to a soul.  I don't know which one's worse, evil and no bite or no bite along with guilt and a bunch of other crap."  Spike said irritated with the whole conversation and the fact that the man he considered his sire in all but direct blood, had betrayed him in such a way.  Breaking away from Willow's grip he walked away towards the kitchen.

Following him into the kitchen, Willow watched as he took out a bag of blood from the fridge and heated it in the microwave.  Leaning against the
doorframe, Willow was mesmerized by his movements.  He still moved in that lethal, predatory way that only a fellow hunter could now see and properly appreciate.

"So, what are you doing back here, luv, in Sunnyhell and alive too?"

"Oh, didn't you hear?  The higher powers decided to make me an offer."

"What kind?"  Spike asked, not interested in the least .  He just wanted to hear a familiar voice.  One that at least brought back memories of when he was still evil and could do some harm.

"They said I could fight evil for them and in return I get to live forever."

"Why'd you agree to something like that?"

"I needed something to do."

"You could have done something other than fighting.  I would have thought you'd have enough of that after the hell bitch incident when the Slayer
died."

"I did.  That's why I left in the first place, but then I found out that after you know what goes bump in the night, you can't ignore it and go back
to a nice, safe life.  So I ended up fighting the evil.  And I got good at it too."

"Huh.  No more hiding in the Slayer's shadow now, right."

"Don't talk about Buffy like that."  Willow said sharply.

"Hey, I liked her too you know.  I even thought I was in love with her."

"Oh, yea.  I remember now.  That crush you had on Buffy.  If you couldn't kill her, you would love her instead?"

Thinking back on it Spike realized that maybe the chip had probably scrambled some of his dead brain cells for him to think he was in love with the Slayer.  "Something like that," Spike said refusing to say anymore on that long ago subject.

"I'm going to crash here for a couple of days, Spike.  So get used to it."

"Yea, fine, whatever.  You own the place.  You never did say what your doing back in Sunnyhell."

"I tell you what Spike.  You tell me what you're still doing here and I'll tell you why I'm back."

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

"Are you sure it was her?"

"Yes.  It was her.  I'm positive.  Same red hair, same signature of power."

"Good, good.  I've followed her for too long now.  It's almost time.  Her power will soon be mine and the powers will finally have to admit that I was
a better choice."  And the power warped mind plotted on against The Power's Fire.
 

~Part 3~

Looking into the mirror Willow chided herself.  There was herself, a little over a hundred years old and there was an undead man, vampire with a soul in the next room.  An undeniably attractive vampire, but still a vampire who had tried to kill her to add salt to the already opening wound that was her feelings.  I'm a grown woman now.  I *should* not still be having these feelings for him.  I mean sure, he's hot, he's got a great body and those
cheekbones and that smile and his mere presence and, and...alright.  No more, Willow.  Bad, Willow berated herself, bad.  No more thoughts about
sexy vampires...damn it there I go again.   This just isn't my decade.

I would think that after all this time I would have forgotten or at least gotten over these feelings, she thought.  To think I should know better.
Jeez, remember Buffy, Angel, Angelus, soul, curse and the whole 'I'm gonna kill you for making me feel human' bit.  I should damn well know better.

Going over her thoughts, Willow asked herself, is Spike's soul permanent?  And then her next thought was, why do I care if it is or isn't?  Its not
like it matters anyway, soul or no he hasn't been with me these last hundred years and he doesn't know me, anymore than I apparently know him.  He's changed.

Walking out of the room she had taken over she called out to Spike, "Spike!  I'm going out for a walk.  I'll be back later."

"Like I bloody well care!" he called back at her.

But he did, and he didn't know why.  That's a lie he thought.  He did know why and it had a lot to do with Angel, Dru and the Slayer all those years
back.  Hearing the door slam as Red left, Spike walked into the kitchen heating some blood for himself.

"Damn poof of a Grand-Sire.  And my loony Sire too," he muttered.  He knew exactly why Angel had cursed him with a soul.  To keep him from harming the other in the rag-tag team of slayerettes.

He remembered coming back to Sunnyhell after the episode with Angel and his soul to the shocked faces of what was left of the Scooby gang.  Giles had actually laughed at his predicament, Xander had joined in with a comment or two about sire and fledgling relationships.  Then it was the ex-demon chit's turn and with her usual blunt style had asked strait out, "So, why aren't you all broody guy like Angel is?"  Smirking now at the memory, Spike had replied, "'Cause I'm not at all sorry in the least 'bout what I did.  I did all those things while I didn't have a conscience and now that I do, well I just don't bleedin' feel like anymore.  But keep pushing me and I'll oblige you if you want..."

After finishing his meal Spike decided that a walk just might be a good thing.  Deciding to trail Red, Spike followed her scent.  He never expected
to come upon a fight.  It was the sounds that first notified him.  The sound of clashing weapons and the crackle in the air alerting him to the presence of magick.

Walking into the park Spike saw Willow fighting off two assailants, one hand firmly gripping a long, slim sword that sliced through the air in a way that only experience could make look graceful and the other hand was glowing fire bright red from the use of magic.  It seems Red has finally mastered her powers, Spike thought, impressed.

Strolling toward the fight, only because Red looked capable of taking them on, Spike asked, "Hey Red, you need and help?"

"No, not really," Willow said, swinging her sword in a wide arc to block the attack of the man on her right, then throwing a red ball of flame toward the other one while swinging her sword in a strong, wide circle above her shoulders, neatly taking the head of the one with the sword.

Watching him drop, with a dull thud to the grass, Spike asked again, "You sure, 'cause I could use a good workout?"

Watching her fight was like watching a beautifully choreographed dance.  Except her partner wasn't following the directions.  Back and forth they
volleyed magic against each other.  The strange man chanted a few words and all of a sudden he was floating on air.  Spike heard Red mutter something about show off magic then she dropped her sword and put both hand together as if in prayer.  Spike was no more than five or six feet from the fight so he could clearly hear her words, "Powers of light and good, strength of heat and flame, I conjure the unto my will."  And then Spike could see a red glow start to form around her.

Tiring of the useless battle with the one man, who wasn't even a worthy opponent anymore, Willow concentrated on her powers and flung a burst of power towards him.  This time it wasn't a ball of flame that flew forth from her but a white sphere of light that collided with his last effort of
attack.  Upon impact he went down without a sound.

"Is he dead?"

"No, just stunned into unconsciousness."

"Why isn't he dead."

"Because I recognize the signature of magic he was using.  I want answers.  Answers he can give me only if he's alive."
 

~Part 4~

LA 2002

A year.  A whole damn year since the slayer had died.  Spike had no idea what the hell he was doing in LA.  He didn't even want to be here.  Buffy
had been dead for a year and Angel, his poof of a Grand-Sire was still here.   Still helping lost souls and fighting the good fight.

Taking out a cigarette, he lit one and took a deep breath into his dead lungs.  Walking up the steps of the building that was now the headquarters
of Angel Investigations, Spike opened the door.  Quietly, so as not to disturb anyone he stood in the door way and watched the four people crowd
around and hunch over a bunch of musty books.  A research fest as Red like to call them, that's what this little group looked like they were doing.

He recognized the cheerleader, Cordelia, and he saw the thin white man, Wesley the ex-watcher and he saw two unfamiliar people in the room.  One was a small, frail looking mouse of a woman and the other was a young black man.

Taking a deep unneeded breath into dead lungs he called out, "Honey, I'm home."  Looking over at the shocked faces of the four in the lobby he asked, "Now, where's Peaches?"

"Spike," Cordy said alarmed.  Spike saw her lunge for a stake, while Wesley went for a crossbow, and seeing his friends go for weapons, the black man did the same.  Taking a stake out of his back pocket.  He saw the mouse woman leave up a flight of stairs, probably to get Angel.

Seeing a nice looking chair, Spike made his way over and dropped down into the chair, making himself comfortable.

"Who's he?"  the black man asked.

"His name is Spike.  He's a vampire." Wesley stated.

"'Course I'm a vampire.  What else would I be?"  Spike said, sneering at them.

"How about dust?"  Cordelia asked.

"Nah, I like being me as it is.  Now how about you all put down your weapons.  Is that anyway to treat a client?  A paying client at that?"  Spike asked them, waving some money around.

At the sight of the money Spike held Cordelia's eyes lit up, but Wesley said, " We don't have anything for you.  We can't help."

"Yes, your right.  You guys can't help.  But Peaches can.  Now, cut with the chit chat where's the poof?"  turning towards the black man Spike asked conversationally, "And who're you?"

"I'm Gunn, and who?"  Gunn replied.

Sniffing the air Spike said, " A human.  Peaches has gone and surrounded himself with humans." Laughing Spike said, "Hahaa, he's gone and made
himself another Scooby gang.  One all for himself."  Then Spike just laughed.

"Hey!"  Cordelia said, recognizing the nickname Buffy's friends had had while with her.

As Gunn advanced on him with the stake Spike said, "Now, none of that.  I'm not here to hurt you.  I've lost my bite now, so you can't go hurtin' me now."  Irritated, Spike said, "Where is he.  Where's peaches?"

"Who?" Gunn asked, confused.

Hearing footsteps, Spike looked up at the stairs.  He saw Angel and the mouse woman following him come down.  "Spike."  Angel said.  Damn, how does he say my name in acknowledgement  and as a curse all at the same time.  "Spike, what are you doing here?"

"I ain't saying anything 'till your little group of whatevers," Spike said waving his hand to indicate the humans, "put down their weapons."

At Angels nod, they all reluctantly put down their weapons.

"Ok, alright here's the deal.  I've come because, well, because..." Spike said trailing off.  Damn it.  I don't want to be here.  This is the last thing I need.  Coming to the bloody poof for help.  I don't like this.  Not one bit.  Not one bit at all.

"Spike."  Angel said warningly.

Sighing, Spike said, "Well the commandos are gone.  The slayers dead and Reds left for who knows where.  All the people that can help are dead or
gone.  I've come because I need your damn fuckin' help."
 

Sunndale 2102

"So he helped you."  Willow said.

"Yea."

"So what about your soul?"

"Oh, I was upset about that.  Blamed it all on Peaches.  I went passed out after the doc started to move the chip around in my brain, and when I came to I had a soul.  Took me about two or three hours to figure out that something was different.  Something was off about me."

"What?"  Willow asked as she checked on their prisoner.  He was still out cold.

"My soul and my demon had been melded together.  I'm just like a human now, mentally and on the inside, with the occasional blood lust and need for violence.  'Cept I need blood to survive and I'm still dead."

"And what about the blood, death and mayhem?"

"Oh, I still love it but now I only feel the need to take it out on the occasional demon or bad man out there."
 
 

Somewhere in a high rise apartment in LA 2002

"The stars sing, Grandmum.  They sing a song about my Spike."

Darla smiled.  Turning towards the small human cowering in the corner she asked, "Can you do it?  Can you put a soul in him?"

"I...I c...can tr...tr...try."  the human whispered.

Snarling, Darla vamped and smacked the human.  "I don't want you to fucking try, girl.  I want you to put a disgusting soul in him.  I want his demon to suffer and when we let the soul out again I want his demon to be so blood hungry that he'll go on a rampage and kill the slayer.  Then my darling
Angelus will come out and play."  Darla said punctuating the end with a hard blow to the human.

"Ok.  I'll do it."  Tara said.  But you won't like the outcome she thought to herself.

As Tara performed the spell she thought back to the night she had found one of Willow's diaries.  She had read all about Angel's episode with Darla, and all about how crazy Drusilla, Spike's Sire, was and she had read all about Spike.  How Willow had had a crush on the blond vampire.  Of how she had pushed aside her secret feelings for him when Tara had come along.  She had read how Willow had harbored those feelings for him all along, even through her entire relationship with Tara, and how after Buffy had died it had been too much, and Willow just had to leave.  To find something meaningful in her life again.

Speaking the soul restoration spell, Tara could hear both Darla and Dru talking about their plans for Spike and Angel.  How they planned on having
Spike kill Buffy (they didn't even know that Buffy was dead she thought) how they planned on getting Angelus back and reuniting their small family.

They didn't pay any attention to her after she started the spell.  Tara took that as a good omen to continue with her small plan of rebellion, even
though she knew it would get her killed.

Taking a deep breath Tara changed the language of the spell, using a secret language only she and Willow knew and changed the wording of the spell.  Instead of a soul restoration the spell was now a spell to meld both soul and demon, permanently.

I hope this helps you, Willow, she thought.
 

Angel Investigations LA 2002

"You did this.  It's all your fault!"  Spike yelled.

"Did what?" Angel asked

"I can't believe you did this.  I would have thought you would have more compassion or whatever the hell you do have.  I can't fucking believe you
did this. "  Then Spike did what he'd never done before except when he was piss poor drunk.  He cried.

Two hours later Spike stood up, wiped the tears from his eyes, looked over at Angel and yelled, "You damned poof.  I can't believe you did this."

"Did what?" Angel repeated.

"A soul.  A fuckin' soul is what you did.  You gave me a shitty soul.  You soddin' prick.  Damn fuckin' prat.  I didn't really think you would do this
to me.  Fuck."

Realization lit Angels eyes and he walked over to Spike.  "Spike.." he said.

"Sod off, you bloody..." but Spike never finished what he said.  He just launched himself at Angel and started to beat on him all the while saying,
"This was your doing.  I should rip your bloody head off and feed it to your friends is what I should do.  Or maybe a bit of torture, yea, and have you watch while I  maim and hurt your friends."
 

Sunnydale 2102

"Spike?  Did you...?"  Willow asked, concerned.

"'Course not.  I calmed down after.  It was a good fight though."  Spike said grinning at the memory.  "Got the bloody snot beat out of me.  Was
still weak after the operation, and I hadn't fed before.  But it was still a good fight."

"So what did you do after that?"

"I came back here.  Moved in and decided to stay.  Sure I traveled some, but I always came back here."

"Why?"  Willow asked.

Spike never got a chance to answer.  Their prisoner was coming to.
 

~Part 5~

Houston, Texas 2007

The three vamps thought they had the advantage.  Little did they know that the red headed woman they were planning to eat knew all about them.  As a matter of fact, had been fighting them for the better part of ten years of her life.

Approaching her, one of the vampires said, "What's a girl doing all alone out here at night?"

Not even looking at them she said, "Walking."

"You do know that it's dangerous for you to be out like this?" the second vamp remarked.

"No.  Not dangerous for me, but probably for you."  she said quietly, finally looking up at their faces.

Laughing the three vampires, all in game face, surrounded her, halting her movements. "What do you mean?" the third vampire asked.

"I mean," Willow said, "you just might catch the sunlight while out like this unprotected."

"Sunlight?  You must be daft, girl.  It's hours 'till day," the first vampire said.

Willow chanted in her head while eyeing the three vamps in front of her {Powers of light from dark, bringer of fire from ash, I call upon you now, I
ask for sunlight to come forth from the shadows of the dark, I call upon the light} I hope this works she thought and with little fanfare a bright light
came forth.  So bright was the light that it was equal to the power of direct sunlight and the three vampires caught fire.  In little more than a minute all three were dust.  Watching as the dust drifted down Willow said softly, "But that's where you're wrong."  Thank you Goddess Willow thought.

From out of the darkness Willow heard someone clapping.  Turning towards the sound she saw a tall, broad shouldered man walk out of the shadows.  "Very good, very good.  I didn't know anyone could summon sunlight from darkness at command without a circle."

Suspicious Willow asked, "Who're you?"

"I'm sorry did I not introduce myself?  Well, no matter.  I am Jacob Mackenzie, but you can call me Mackenzie or Mack, which ever is your pleasure."
 

Sunnydale 2102

Standing over their prisoner, Willow asked, "Who sent you?"

When he remained silent, Spike asked, "Want I should take a bite or two out of him?" his face vamping out.

Having never seen a vampire, the prisoner was soon talking.  "His name's Mackenzie.  He's the one who sent us."

"What did he want?"  Willow asked, her eyes sharpening at the mention of his name.

"He mentioned you.  The Power's Flame.  He mentioned something about being a better choice.  He just said for us to capture you alive.  He never said anything else."

"And your powers?"

"Temporary.  Only until tomorrow night.  Then they'll be gone.  For good."  Taking a glance at the vampire, Markus decided that if he ever survived
this, he was going to the Bahamas, and staying there.  In the sunlight, with the sand and nothing else.

Shrugging her shoulders, Willow looked at Spike then at the prisoner, "He's told me all I need to know.  Let him free."  Then saying to the man, "Go.  Don't ever come back, don't ever hunt me again.  Or what I did to you earlier will be nothing compared to what he," nodding her head towards
Spike, "can do to you."

After he had left Spike turned to Willow and asked, "So, Red.  Who's Mackenzie?"
 

Texas 2009
Two years after meeting Mackenzie

Noting should have gone wrong with the spell.  Nothing.  But something did, and Willow was afraid to open her eyes and find out.  She felt so drained, so tired.  In the aftermath of such a spell, she had expected to feel a little wiped out, but never to this extent.

Willow was beginning to suspect that Mack had done something.  He had been acting strange for the last couple of months.  And when he had come to her with a spell, in Latin no less, she had been unable to refuse.  Wanting nothing more than to please him, Willow had agreed to do the spell with him, hoping against hope that doing the spell with him would somehow mend whatever it was that was wrong and bring them together.  I knew something was going on when he changed the language of the spell.  To Latin at that.  I knew I should never have performed that spell, my Latin has never been very good.  Goddess, at twenty seven, I should know better.  Damn.  Next thing on my list of things to do is to learn Latin, if its the last thing I do.

Every part of her ached.  From her head all the way down to the muscles on her legs.  Groaning, Willow brought a hand up to her face and pushed the hair that was on her face back.  Cracking an eye open Willow became aware of the change in scenery.

Looking around, she could see that she wasn't in her and Mack's living room. She was in some sort of temple.  There were Grecian columns surrounding her in a circle and she was laying on a smooth marble floor.  The place was filled with soft white light, unlike the dim lights that were on in the living room, and she wasn't alone.

Mack wasn't there with her but she wasn't alone.  Before her stood two figures, with silver red skin.  They both wore Grecian style clothing, namely sheet-like togas.

"Wha...?  What am I doing here?"  Willow asked.

"We've brought you here to make an offer."  They both said simultaneously.

"Offer?" Willow asked confused.

"The higher powers have decided to make you an offer.  We've been chosen to make that offer to you, Warrior of Fire."
 

LA, Angel Investigations 2102

It was quiet in the lobby of AI.  Angel looked at his ever changing family and friends sitting and going over old books and papers and one of them
searching over a database on the new high-tech NetScreen.  There was Mey Pryce, the twelfth new slayer since Buffy's death, her Watcher Howard Ventris.  The man at the NetScreen, Jesse Harris the Third and his twin Alex Harris the Fourth.  Then there was also Cordelia and Gunn's great-grandchild Alana and Dawn's own grandchild Margret Summers.

Who would have thought that even through all these years, the fighters, the warriors of light, would somehow always find their way to others like them.  Gravitate towards other warriors, form a team, a family all their own and continue to fight.

Looking at each member he watched them.  Mey Pryce the slayer.  She was a small thing really.  No more than five feet.  Long jet black hair, almond shaped black eyes and a scar from one corner of her eye down to her chin.  She was also so quiet, never speaking unless absolutely necessary, unusual for someone in their very late teens.  A hangover from her days of training with the Council and fighting evil with no friends, no family and a watcher who hadn't found her until two and a half years later, after she had escaped from the Council's watchful eyes.

Ventris the Watcher.  It was remarkable how he was so much like both Giles and Wesley.  The council must train them to be alike.  A medium sized,
middle aged man, with brown hair, contacts after his fourth pair of glasses had been broken, and a zeal for all of Angel's old tomes and leather covered books.

Jesse the wiz-kid with all things technical and high tech, a very important part of the group in this new day and age.  And his twin brother Alex the
Seer, somehow Cordy's gift for sight had made it's way back into his little family.  Both Jesse and Alex were grandchildren of the original Alexander
Harris and his wife Anya.  A few years after their marriage both had moved to LA to help fight because whatever Buffy had done in that open portal she had closed the Hellmouth for good.  Both Jesse and Alex looked so much like their grandparents, Alex was blunt and outspoken like Anya and Jesse was always cracking jokes, just like Xander, he even called Angel Deadboy, just like Xander.  Both in their early twenties.  They gave him headaches.

Then there was Alana, who was so much like Cordy it was uncanny. She had Cordelia's looks, Cordelia's style and the same way of saying thing.  Only she had a slightly darker complexion from her grand parentage, mainly Gunn.  Lana had no special abilities, but she helped out whenever she could in between her novels.  For someone so young, barely twenty three she had a lot of novels out there on the supernatural.

Margret, Maggie now, who was their connection to the magical world.  Looked like an older version of her grandmother.  She had the long, strait hair, the same complexion and the same features as her grand mother, and she was the oldest out of all the humans except for Ventris.  In her late thirties, Maggie still insisted on helping Angel, even though she knew that in his line of work, your life span was cut considerably short.

Their amicable silence was interrupted by Alex's loud yell, so like Cordy's warning, of, "Vision."  Then his world was filled with the vision and the pain to go along with it.  The fact that his grandmother had been a demon and her blood flowed through him, helped immensely  in coping with the pain
of the vision after it was finished.  After the vision was finished Alex was able to tell everyone what the emergency was.

"Alex?"  Angel asked quietly.

"Sunnydale.  We have to get to Sunnydale.  I saw a red headed woman, and I saw Spike.  Lots of pain and someone wanting to steal something."
 

Sunnydale 2102

"So Red.  Who's Mackenzie?"  Spike asked.

Afraid of what he saw on her face, Spike was alternating between wanting to know who this person was that had made Red's face go pale and not wanting to know because he was anxious and he didn't really want to know what had happened to her while she was gone.  A lot could happen in a hundred years of absence.

Taking a deep breath, not wanting to say anything at all about Mack, and fighting the instinct to pack her meager belonging and run, Willow's green eyes met Spike's blue ones and said very clearly, with no way for him to misinterpret her words, "My husband, Spike.  Mackenzie is my husband."
 

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