COUPLE: Willow/Spike
RATING: PG-13
DISTRIBUTION: Archives are ok, just tell me were it went. Others please ask first.
DISCLAIMER: All belongs to Joss Whedon. WARNING: Character death.
FEEDBACK: Please, I need it to be able to write more.
SPOILERS: General season 6, AU.
SUMMARY: Willow's thoughts about her new life.
NOTES: This is the next and last part of what has turned into a short series of ficlets from Willows POV. The previous parts Promises and Awakening can be found at www.redssoulmates.com.
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She had gotten an explanation to why she had felt so calm when awakening. It was her powers as a witch that had made her stronger than any normal fledgling. Spike had explained that usually the first decades as a vampire was all about the hunt, the kill. It had been that way for every vampire he knew of including himself. Apparently her being so powerful to begin with had transferred into her new existent making her able to control the demon instead of it controlling her. She guesses that's ok. She still thrives on the hunt and her first kill had been unbelievable.
The first wave of the girl's fear, the first taste of sweat heavy with fright on her bared neck. A quick look at Spike's proud and encouraging expression and her fangs had dropped on their own accord. The feel of slicing into that smooth column of flesh, like a hot knife trough butter, making her gums itch and then the flow of warm, rich, heavy blood tasting of sunlight and life. Needless to say that they'd made good use of that huge bed that first night.
Now years later she could look back at those first months of training and living for the kill with a great deal of fondness. That hadn't always been the case.
After a few years she'd rebelled against her sire, earlier than most vampires, but then again she wasn't like most vampires. She'd left Spike after some hard words and one spectacular fight and set out to become a master vampire in her own right. It had taken a lot of blood and violence but she'd finally made herself a name and had even ruled over a Hellmouth at one point. Not the one in Sunnydale though. She'd stayed clear of the slayer, not because she had any feelings left for her old friends but because she didn't find it enough of a challenge since she knew all their weak spots. She had kept up with their lives and she could almost convince herself that it was because she needed to know her enemies.
She looked down at the gravestone, Buffy Anne Summers 1981-2032. She'd been the longest living slayer, the best according to some, and she'd been her friend. There she'd said it, it was all right for old vampires to be sappy and remising about the good old days. She continued her walk among the graves, there was just one more she wanted to visit before she left town, and there it was, Jenny Calendar, no dates. She said her thanks to her old mentor who'd made her interested in the magic that'd helped her maintain some parts of her human self.
After the slayer had died the ones that'd remained had shattered all over the country. She had a few more places to visit until she could rest. Life as an immortal did get old fast, she was only a bit over 400 and all ready so tired. With no one left that mattered she had no strength to carry on, no will to live. So, she was saying her goodbyes to her human life and her life as a master vampire. It was time.