Discoveries of Old

Email: sunfirejc@yahoo.com

Rating: PG 14

Type: BtVS/Highlander Xover

Content: language and violence

Spoilers: basic season 4

Disclaimers: Nothing belongs to me :(  It's all Joss'
and whoever owns Highlander

Distribution: Willow's Lil' Secret, Bite Me Please,
everyone who has my other stories, anybody else, just
ask

Summary: Willow's got a secret, and Spike wants to
know what it is.

Feedback: It really helps my frequent writer's block.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 

~Prologue~

      The only sound in the small dorm room was the click
of computer keys as Willow's hands practically flew
across the keyboard.  It had taken her almost two and
a half years to build contacts in the pagan online
community, but with determination and a little help
from some files she had found on Jenny Calendar's
computer, Willow had found acceptance in the exclusive
group.  It was through the community that she had met
the person she was currently instant messaging.  The
computer made a quiet beep, and the window changed as
the reply appeared on the screen.

      MysticTree-  Merry Meet!  Evening Trav.

      TimelessTraveler-  Hey Mysty.  How was your day?

      MysticTree-  I got a 98 % on my dissertation on
Neurological Disorders, and I got the highest grade in
the class on my history test.

      TimelessTraveler-  That's fantastic, I knew you could
do it.

      MysticTree-  Yeah, I love my history class.  We just
finished the Celtic clans and we're going to start the
Welsh next week.

      TimelessTraveler-  I'm glad you're enjoying it.

      MysticTree-  It's one of my favorite classes.

      TimelessTraveler-  How is everything else?

      MysticTree-  Pretty good.  I've been working on my
concentration, and focusing like you said.  It's
helping quite a bit.

      TimelessTraveler-  I'm glad.  Emotional control,
focus and concentration, can really improve your spell
casting abilities.

      MysticTree-  Yeah, I've noticed that my spells have
been better lately.

      TimelessTraveler-  It's getting pretty late.
Shouldn't you be getting ready?

      MysticTree-  You're right.  I should be going.  Same
time, right?

      TimelessTraveler-  Yes.  Same as always.

      MysticTree-  Just checking.  I'll see you then.

      TimelessTraveler-  Be safe.

~Part: 1~

      The young woman stood by the corner, leaning against
the white stucco wall as she awaited the arrival of
her friend.  It was because of this slight
preoccupation that she didn't become aware of the
approaching figure until it was right behind her.  The
tall, dark haired man spun her around to face him and
their eyes locked as they both adopted fighting
stances.

      The fight started out slow, but soon began to gain in
speed and intensity.  He seemed to move with an almost
effortless grace, while his female opponent appeared
to concentrate greatly as she avoided his advances.
If an observer had been present they would have been
hard pressed to say when exactly the swords had been
brought into play, but they were, and the sound of
steel against steel soon echoed through the room as
the two parried and blocked each other's moves.  As
the moves became more frenzied, the man was able to
penetrate her defenses, leaving a long cut on her
shoulder.  Momentarily distracted by the pain in her
arm, she stumbled and was unable to block his next
move before he made contact with her lower abdomen.

      A sharp clang was heard as he knocked the sword out
of her hands.  The bright fluorescent lights reflected
off of the man's blade as it cut through the air in a
smooth arc, headed towards the neck of the young woman
who lay on the ground, her short red hair falling
around her face.

~~~*~~~

      The sound of water hitting porcelain echoed off the
tiled walls of the small bathroom.  There was nothing
unusual about the fact that the young woman stood in
her shower at 10:30 at night, but the red tinted water
swirling around the drain betrayed the normality of
the action.  The young woman hissed in pain as she ran
the wash cloth over her stomach.  Continuing to clean
herself, she listened to the soft refrains that
drifted in from the small stereo system in the next
room.  As the minutes went by, the water turned a
light pink before finally becoming clear as all of the
blood was washed from the woman's body.

      Shutting off the water and stepping out of the
shower, she dried off, then wrapped her thin form in a
large navy blue towel.  Slowly walking into the
adjoining bedroom, she took off the towel and used it
to ring out her hair so that it was no longer dripping
water onto the carpet.  Dropping the now wet towel,
she carefully made her way to her dresser where she
opened a fairly large and well-stocked first aid kit.
Removing a tube of antibacterial ointment, she
liberally covered the lower left portion of her
stomach, as well as her left shoulder and a small
section on her right calf.  Next, she took several
pieces of first aid tape and used them to place
butterfly sutures over the wound on her abdomen.  Once
she had closed the cut, she taped several layers of
gauze over it.  Repeating the process on her shoulder
and leg, the woman proceeded to examine the various
other bruises and cuts that littered her pale skin.

      Deciding that the smaller injuries did not need
further care, she slipped on a lose t-shirt.  Turning
off the light and slipping between her pale yellow
sheets, she allowed the soft music to lead her into
slumber's waiting arms.

~Part: 2~

      Willow walked cautiously down the hall towards her
dorm room, and quietly opening the door, she stepped
inside.  Turning around, she headed over to her
bookcase where she picked up her Latin and history
books and put them into her bag.  Just as she was
about to leave the room, the door opened, revealing
the blonde slayer as she entered the room the two
young women shared.

      "Hey Will.  Long time no see.  Where were you last
night?  You were gone when I got back from patrol, and
you never came in last night.  I was worried."
Placing her purse on her bed, Buffy looked expectantly
at her roommate.

      "I, um, well... I've been pretty busy lately.  You
know, studying and stuff."

      "You were studying all night last night?"  Disbelief
was clear in the blonde's voice as she looked over at
her friend.

      "Well, not exactly.  I was at the bookstore until
really late, getting some books for my English paper.
When I was done, I just went back to my parent's
house.  It was late and their house was closer than
the dorm.  Plus I promised I would check on the house
every couple of days while they're on vacation."  The
hacker nervously chewed on her bottom lip as she
waited to see her friend's reaction to her
explanation.

      "Oh, ok.  I was just kind of worried when you weren't
here this morning."

      "Sorry, I'll try and let you know if I'm going to be
staying at the house.  That way you won't have to
worry."

      "All right."  Just as the blonde was going to ask her
where she would be staying that night, the witch
glanced at her watch.

      "Look, I've got to go, some people in my Science
class are getting together to study for our test
tomorrow and I don't want to be late."

      Willow quickly grabbed her now full bag and left the
room, leaving Buffy no choice but to simply watch as
the redhead headed off down the hall.

~~~*~~~

      The members of Sunnydale's resident demon hunters
talked amongst themselves as Spike sat in the living
room listening.  The slayer's high pitched voice
drifted to his ears as she explained to her watcher
what had happened at school that day.

      "Yeah.  She just walked off, saying she had a study
group or something.  She's been doing that a lot
lately.  It's like she's avoiding me or something."

      "Well, do you have any reason to believe she is
attempting to limit her time in your, uh, presence?"
A hint of concern marred the Englishman's accent as he
questioned the young woman in front of him.

      "I don't know.  I can't think of why she would be
avoiding me, but she's been acting kind of strange
lately.  Sometimes when I try to talk to her, it's
like she's somewhere else."

      "So, she's been distracted?"  Buffy nodded her head
in agreement with his words.  "Maybe she's just a
little preoccupied with school."

      "No, I think it's something else.  I've noticed the
same things that Buff has.  I've tried to talk to her
about it, but she always seems to change the subject.
I mean, I've hardly seen her in the last three months.
She doesn't get together with us anymore unless it's
a research party, or an end of the world prevention
thing.  Whenever one of us asks her to go somewhere,
or do something, she always says she has homework, or
a test to study for."  Xander commented as he removed
a candy bar from his bag.

      "Well, maybe she has something better to do."  The
ex-demon shrugged her shoulders in response to the
glares she received from the others.  "What?  It _has_
been over three months since Oz left.  Maybe she
finally got herself a new orgasm friend.  I mean, if I
were her, I would have gotten one a long time ago.  I
don't know how she's gone as long as she has without
sex."  Buffy and Xander rolled their eyes at the
characteristic reply from the girl while Giles merely
shook his head at her forthright attitude.

      "Despite the vulgar bluntness, I think Anya might
actually have a point.  Perhaps Willow does have a new
gentleman friend with whom she has been spending her
time, as of late."

      "I guess it's possible.  But if it were a guy, why
wouldn't she tell Xan or me?  I mean, we're her
friends."

      "Maybe she wants to keep it a secret.  I've heard
that mystery does add something to the sex."  As
usual, Anya's tact was less than apparent.

      "I don't know.  I mean, I still think she would have
told us, although that would explain why she's been
sleeping at her parents' house lately."  The blonde
shrugged her shoulders.  "Well, if that's the case,
then I think we should all be happy for her.  Plus it
doesn't hurt that she hasn't been whining nearly as
much as she used to.  Whoever it is, I'd certainly
like to thank him.  I'd gotten pretty tired of
listening to her complain about Oz constantly."  The
others nodded their heads in agreement.

      The former vengeance demon looked over at the slayer,
somewhat put off by the girl's last statement.  She
had spent over a thousand years granting wishes for
woman just like Willow, who had been deeply hurt and
betrayed by a lover.  The hacker may have complained
and moped for a month or two, then brooded for a
couple more, but in the end, had handled the situation
with a lot more maturity and understanding than the
majority of the woman that she had helped.  Anya
pulled her thoughts back to the present as Xander
asked her to hand him the chocolate bar he had stashed
in her purse.  Rolling her eyes at her boyfriend, she
glanced over at the clock, wondering how long they
would have to remain at the watcher's house.  She had
plans with Xander to go see a movie and then go back
to his basement to have sex.  She really didn't want
to be late.

      The vampire was surprised when the occupants of the
small apartment went back to their various tasks.
When the conversation first started, he had expected
to have to listen to them drone on about the witch for
at least an hour.  Instead it had only lasted about
fifteen minutes; and while he was grateful that he
didn't have to listen to them, he found that his
curiosity had been piqued.  He knew first hand what
betrayal could do to a person, or a vampire for that
matter, and he doubted that the girl could have gotten
over the wolf so quickly without any help.  From what
he could tell, she had gone through it by herself.  By
the time he had shown up at the watcher's townhouse on
Thanksgiving, her friends had already grown tired of
her misery and the wolf had only left her about two
weeks earlier.  In the months he had been there, her
friends had done nothing to help the heartbroken girl
deal with the pain of her loss.

      It had taken him months, and a whole lot of killing,
to get over his princess.  *I'd bet that she's had
help.  There's no way that she's gone from the
pathetic, depressed girl she was when I got here, to
the happy, if not preoccupied one she has been lately.
Maybe Anya's right and she has found someone to help
her forget about the fur ball.*  The vampire wasn't
sure why that idea didn't sit well with him.  However,
he was unable to further explore his reaction to the
thought of the hacker with another man, as the object
of his thoughts entered the apartment.

      Several distracted 'hi's and 'hello's greeted the
witch as she went over to the table to grab a book.
After glancing around, she made her way over to the
only empty seat left in the small home, right next to
Spike.  The young woman slowly lowered herself onto
the couch, emitting a quiet grunt when her body made
contact with the piece of furniture.  So quiet, in
fact that if it hadn't been for his superior vampire
hearing the blonde probably wouldn't have even caught
it.  Using his peripheral vision, he watched as she
gingerly sat the book in her lap and began to skim the
text in search of pertinent information on the current
threat to the residents of Sunnydale.  He took in her
appearance and frowned at the loose khaki colored
pants and light blue long-sleeve shirt.  *It must be
ninety degrees outside, why is she wearing pants and
long sleeves?*  Now that he thought about it, she had
been wearing similar attire for weeks, despite the hot
weather.  Shaking his head at her strange behavior, he
went back to reading his book.

      Nearly three hours passed in which the turning of
pages and the crumpling of Xander's candy wrapper were
the only sounds in the townhouse.  The silence was
broken when Buffy suddenly stood and closed the book
that she had been reading.  "It's getting late.  I
should patrol.  I've got a date with Riley tonight and
I don't want to be late," the slayer announced as she
gathered her things to leave.

      "Does that mean we can go now?"  Anya was eager to
leave the watcher's house so that she and Xander could
get to the movie they were planning on watching.

      "Yes, you are all free to leave.  I will need
everyone to return tomorrow morning, though, so that
we can continue."  The teenagers nodded their heads in
agreement before leaving.

      "Giles, would it be all right if I stayed a little
longer?  I found something in the book I'm reading
that refers to a group of demons a lot like the one we
encountered.  I wanted to look them up online, but
I'll probably need to refer to the book, and don't
want to carry it to the dorm just to carry it back
tomorrow."  The redhead gestured to the large tome as
proof of her reluctance to carry it.

      "Why, yes, of course Willow.  That would be perfectly
all right.  You may stay as long as you'd like."  The
watcher smiled at the hacker, pleased that she had
chosen to remain and help.

      Willow took her laptop out of her bag and plugged it
into the phone jack in the wall.  Connecting to the
Internet, she began her search.  She remained in that
position for the next two hours, only moving her head
to glance occasionally at the book beside her.  When
it seemed likely that she would never find the
information she was looking for, her head shot up and
she gestured enthusiastically to the watcher.   "I
found it!"  Giles walked over to where the girl was
sitting to see what exactly she had found.  "See, it's
a Vanour demon.  They aren't very strong, but they are
exceptionally fast, and hard to find.  They only come
out every three weeks, and don't stay in one place
very long, so it's rare to see them more than twice.
Buffy first saw it last week, so it should come out of
hiding sometime toward the end of next week.  If Buffy
can surprise it, all she has to do is cut off its left
leg.  Apparently that's where its heart is.  They
aren't good fighters so it should be relatively easy
to kill.  As long as it doesn't run, she should have
no problem."

      "Thank you very much Willow.  If you'd like, you're
free to go now.  I'll call the others and inform them
that they need not come over tomorrow."

      She nodded her head and put her computer back in its
case.  While the watcher went to call Buffy and
Xander, she slowly stood and placed the book on the
bookshelf.  "Is it all right if I have a glass of
water before I leave?"

      "Of course, help yourself."  The older man said as he
dialed Xander's number.

      Spike watched as she walked stiffly to the kitchen.
Turning off the television, he followed her.  She
turned as he came into the room behind her.  "Spike,
did you want something?"  In response, he held up the
box of Wheat-A-Bits that he had picked up.  "Oh, ok,"
she said, going back to the cupboard to get a glass.
Reaching up with her right arm, she hissed as her
muscles protested to the movement.

      "You ok ducks?"

      "Yeah, just stiff from sitting so long."  Making her
way back over to the freezer, she put some ice in her
glass.  Turning to go back to the sink to fill it with
water, she ran into Spike, who was about to get a bag
of blood from the fridge.  She let out a gasp of pain
and her hand flew to her left shoulder.  Spike smelled
the blood before he saw it.  She held her hand over
the obvious wound as the dark red blood began to seep
through the material of her sleeve.  "Ah, shit."  The
blonde raised his eyebrows at the quiet exclamation,
never having heard the witch curse before.  "Spike,
would you go out and get my bag off the couch?"  When
he didn't move, she pushed him out of the way.  He
noticed her look around the room warily; making sure
the watcher was no where in sight before she went back
into the living room to fetch her bag.  She then
quickly went into the bathroom and shut the door
behind her.

      She emerged five minutes later, wearing a gray
sweater in place of the now bloody shirt.  "What was
that about pet?"  The vampire asked, gesturing to her
arm.  The only thing he could figure out was that she
had hurt her arm recently, and from the amount of
bleeding, he guessed it was a fairly bad injury.  *She
hasn't patrolled with the slayer lately.  According to
her friends, she hasn't done anything but study.  So
how did the chit hurt her shoulder?*  Something was
going on with the redhead, and it wasn't just some new
guy as her friends assumed.  He stood next to her as
she picked up the bag containing her computer and
noticed her grimace of pain as she slung it over her
shoulder.  Before she could answer, Giles returned
from upstairs.

      "Hey Giles."  Spike could hear just a touch of relief
in her voice.  "I'm going to leave.  I've got a big
paper due in two days and I still haven't gotten much
of it done."

      "Oh, then by all means, go.  I've kept you long
enough."  Opening the door for her, he gave her a
small smile.  "Your help has been much appreciated."

      "You're welcome Giles.  I'll see you later."  Spike's
eyes followed her as she exited the apartment,
question after question tumbling through his mind.  He
didn't understand why it bothered him that she was
acting so strangely, he just knew something was
definitely going on, and he didn't like it one bit.

~Part: 3~

      The moonlight reflected off the headstones, casting
an eerie glow throughout the small cemetery.  Quiet
footsteps sounded as the young woman slowly made her
way through the maze of headstones and mausoleums.
Turning her head slightly to the left, she looked
around as if searching for someone or something.  As
she walked around the corner of one of the large
crypts, she stopped and stood still for several
seconds before spinning quickly and kicking out with
her left leg in an upward arc, connecting with the
chest of the approaching individual.  As her left foot
hit the ground, she reached behind her back and
withdrew a sword from its scabbard under her
sweatshirt.  Bringing it around in front of her, she
moved into a fighting stance, her left foot somewhat
behind her with her body turned slightly, her sword
grasped firmly in her hands and positioned to strike.

      The long blade seemed to dance through the air in her
small hands, but the fluid, graceful movements of the
tall man across from her were able to easily block any
advance she attempted.  After about ten minutes of
fighting, he bought his sword up, and then back down,
directly towards her head.  The woman saw the move
coming and leaned to the side as the blade cut through
the air, narrowly missing her arm.  She had really
begun to hate that sword.  Glaring up at the man's
laughing face, she brought her sword up to block his
before it reached its target.  Spinning on her right
foot, she swung her sword towards his midsection.  Her
opponent was able to dodge her blade, however, and
turned, coming up from behind her.  With a sweeping
motion, he kicked her feet out from under her, causing
her to land hard on her right hip and lose hold of her
weapon in the process.

      Adam saw his small friend hit the ground, and placing
his blade into it's scabbard, made his way quickly to
her side.  Reaching out with his right hand, he pulled
the redhead to her feet and watched as she gingerly
brushed the dirt from her clothing.  "Are you all
right?"

      "Yeah, I'm okay."  A slight grunt of pain escaped her
lips as she sheathed her own sword.

      "How about I walk you home?"  She nodded in
agreement, and the two left the cemetery.  They had
covered several blocks when Adam stopped and looked
suspiciously around the dark streets; sensing someone
watching them.

      "What is it?"

      "I don't know, just a weird feeling."  With one more
glance, he took the young woman's hand and increased
their pace.  "Let's just get you home, shall we?"
They reached the two-story home several minutes later.

      Fishing her keys from the front pocket of her jeans,
she unlocked the door and turned to her friend.

"Thanks for walking me home."  Smiling, she hugged him
close.  "G'night Trav.  I'll talk with you Friday,
around five, okay?"

      Placing a light kiss on each of her cheeks, he hugged
her back.  Sleep tight my little Mys."  With a small
wave, the two separated, the redhead disappearing into
the dark house, as Adam continued down the scantly lit
suburban street.

~~~*~~~

      The vampire exhaled a cloud of smoke as he turned the
corner onto the quiet street.  He stopped short in his
tracks when a strange feeling overcame him.  Stepping
behind a tall tree, he looked up and down the street
for the source of the feeling.  He was surprised when
he saw the two figures turn the corner in front of
him.  He recognized the shock of scarlet hair
immediately, but the tall man at her side was
unfamiliar to him.  He was surprised when the man
stopped and looked around him as if aware of the
blonde's eyes on the pair.  *Well, well, what do we
have here?*

      Following the two at a discreet distance and making
sure to remain hidden, Spike watched as they
approached the witch's residence.  An unidentifiable
feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as the
dark-haired gentleman kissed the petite hacker.  He
wasn't sure what it was, but he knew he didn't like
it.  Spinning on his booted heel, he turned and
stalked away from the small porch. *Things just got a
bit more intriguing.*

~Part: 4~

      *Four-thirty in the afternoon and it's still hot as
hell out.*  The hacker shook her head in frustration.
Waving her hand in front of her face in an attempt to
cool herself, she wished, for the hundredth time that
day that she didn't have to wear the long sleeves and
pants that had become her daily attire.  She had been
about to start getting ready for her meeting with Adam
when she had received a call from Giles, asking her to
return a spell book she had borrowed the week before.
*He had to choose tonight to reorganize his
bookshelves.*  Knocking on the door, she hoped the
peroxide blonde wouldn't be there, his questions at
the research session three days before having made her
a bit uneasy.  Her hopes were dashed, however, when
the watcher opened the door to reveal the vampire
seated comfortably on the couch.

      "Hey Giles, I brought the book," she greeted, tilting
her head towards her book bag.

      "Good afternoon Willow.  Please, come in.  I was just
making a fresh pot of tea; I'll be right with you."
Waving the girl inside, he shut the door and returned
to the kitchen as the teakettle whistled shrilly.

      Spike heard her enter the apartment and watched as
she slowly walked over to the small chair.  He knew
that if he hadn't been watching her so closely he
would not have noticed that she walked with a slight
limp, favoring her right leg.  His careful observation
also noted that her face screwed up in an almost
imperceptible grimace as she set the bag on the ground
and took a seat.  Placing the remote on the couch next
to him, he smirked over at the witch.  "So, did you
finish that paper the other day, pet?"

      Cursing silently to herself, she turned to face the
vampire.  "Yeah, I did.  Why?"

      "No reason, just wondering."  He gave a casual shrug,
then changed the subject.   "The slayer mentioned you
stayed at your parent's house again.  You've been
doing that a lot lately haven't you?"

      "It's none of your business where I stay, Spike."
Her tone was a little more brisk than she had intended
but she really didn't care.

      "Touchy touchy.  I was merely making small talk.
It's not like I'm the only one that's been talking
about it lately anyway.  It seems to be a frequent
topic of conversation amongst your friends the last
few days."  The group hadn't actually discussed it
since that one day earlier that week, but he didn't
have to tell her that.  "Of course, according to them,
you've been sleeping elsewhere because you've got
yourself a new, now how did demon girl put it?  Ah,
yes, a new orgasm friend."  He watched her face
carefully, looking for any sign that her friend's
assumption was correct.  It hadn't appeared that she
had that type of relationship with the man he had seen
her with, but he had been hiding behind a tree at the
time too.

      A light blush covered her cheeks and she stared at
him wide-eyed.  "Not that it's anyone's business other
than my own, but I am not using my parent's house to
secretly fuck somebody, Ok?  I've been spending a lot
of time at the library and bookstore lately and their
house is closer than the dorms.  So just mind your own
damn business."

      The sharp tone and rather blunt wording she had used
surprised the blonde.  *When the hell did she get an
attitude?*  Despite her explanation, he still didn't
believe that she was sleeping at home because of her
late night study sessions.  She had been avoiding her
friends and he knew it had something to do with the
dark-haired man he had seen her with.  *She may not be
shaggin' the bloke but they sure seemed a hell of a
lot closer than studybuddies.*  Before he could
continue his inquiry, the watcher entered the room
holding a steaming cup of tea.

      The redhead rose from her seat and retrieved the book
from her bag, handing to the older man.  "Here you go
Giles."

      "Thank you Willow, I'm sorry to have brought you all
the way over here, I hope I didn't disturb your plans
for the evening."

      "It was no problem, and you didn't interrupt
anything.  Although I do have another paper to finish
this weekend that's going to take me awhile.  I should
probably get home and work on it."

      "Yes, of course, go right ahead.  Thank you for the
book."

      "You're welcome.  Call me if you need help
researching or anything this weekend."

      "I will.  Good bye."

      "Bye."  The red-haired witch picked up her bag,
flinching when it came in contact with her back and
shoulder.  She opened the door and waved to the former
librarian as she left the apartment.  Spike waited
several minutes after she left before mumbling a
'later mate' to the watcher and making his way through
the streets of Sunnydale to the hacker's home.

      His vampiric speed enabled him to reach the house
mere moments after she did.  He had only been standing
there five minutes when he noticed the same man he had
seen with her before, approaching the Rosenberg
residence.  Stepping behind a large tree for the
second time that week, he watched as the man knocked
on the door.  Willow opened the door a moment later,
giving the man a hug before the two headed down the
street.  He noticed that the girl had changed into a
lose long sleeve white T-shirt and gray sweet pants as
opposed to the long sleeved black shirt and green
cargo pants she had been wearing at the watcher's.  *A
paper, huh?  Why don't I believe that?*

      Spike left his hiding place and followed about a
block behind them, recalling how the man had somehow
noticed his presence the last time.  They had been
walking for about fifteen minutes when they stopped
and entered a large building.  The vampire waited
until they were inside before going around to the back
of the building where he broke the lock on the service
door and went inside.  Making his way through the back
offices, he soon found himself in what appeared to be
a gym.  There was a wide rang of exercise equipment
with various people milling around using the different
machinery.  On the wall across from where he was
standing there was a large sign reading, 'Sunnydale
Health Club: Members Only.'  *What are you up to,
Red?*

~Part: 5~

      He had only been standing there for a minute or so
when he saw the witch and her male companion entering
the room.  Making sure he was hidden from their view,
he watched as the young woman greeted the other club
members.  It was obvious that she had been there
several times before, having known each individual by
name.  The two engaged in small talk with the others
for a few minutes before the tall dark-haired
gentleman lead the redhead through a door and into a
private exercise room.  Going back through the
hallways in the rear of the building, Spike found
another door to the room the two were in.  Luckily,
the door had a small window and was situated in a
location where he could safely observe them without
being seen.

      By the time he reached the door, the hacker had taken
off her long sleeve top and pants to reveal a pair of
loose running shorts, a black sports bra and light
gray tank top.  The room was very large, with what
looked like a an obstacle course on one side and a few
exercise machines, free weights, and a boxing ring on
the other.  The vampire stood at the door and watched
as the two talked back and forth as they headed over
to the obstacle course.

      "So, you wanna start with the course tonight?" Willow
asked, turning to her friend.

      "Sure, we could do that.  Why don't you do a couple
stretches, and I'll make sure everything is set up."
At the nod from his small student, he walked over to
the course.  After checking the apparatus for a few
minutes, Adam was satisfied that everything was as he
had left it and motioned for her to join him.  "Ok,
it's ready.  You still remember what to do, right?"
The girl nodded her head once more and positioned
herself at the course's starting point.  "Then I'll
tell you when I start the timer, and you can begin."
He looked down at the stopwatch in his left hand and
held up his right.  Bringing his right hand down, he
pressed the start button and called out, "Go."

      As soon as the word had left his lips, the witch was
running down the path, weaving back and forth with the
markers.  She soon came across the first obstacle, and
with perfect balance, quickly crossed the thin balance
beam.  Jumping down, she ran ahead until reaching a
rope ladder.  Once she had climbed the swinging
ladder, she swiftly maneuvered the three successive
sets of steps.  Coming up to a row of hanging rings,
she jumped up and caught a hold of the first ring.  As
she continued across the several feet of rings, she
swung from one hand to the next until reaching the
other end.  Letting go and landing gracefully on her
feet, she then ran through a series of tires and
turned a corner.

She stopped for a split second when
she ran into the ten-foot high wall before grabbing
the rope that was hanging from the ceiling, directly
in front of the wall.  Holding tightly with both
hands, she pulled herself up, placing both feet flat
on the vertical surface.  With each step she took, she
placed one hand over the other, pulling hard on the
rope.  The top of the wall leveled off, and once she
had traversed it, she sprinted across the final twenty
feet.  At this point, the track suddenly disappeared
and a ten-foot drop greeted her.  Without slowly her
pace, she jumped off the precipice.  She hit the
ground, and reaching out with her hands, immediately
went into a roll before coming to her feet once again
to find Adam's smiling face above her.

      As she came out of the roll, he hit the stop button
and smiled down into her flushed face.  "Very good,
you didn't stumble once.  You've beaten your record by
a good ten seconds."  Before he could say anything
else, there was a muted ringing from inside his
jacket.  Tilting his head towards the rack of free
weights across the room, he pulled a small cell phone
from the jacket's inner pocket.  Willow headed over to
the weights as he answered the phone.

      "Hello?...Oh, hey Joe..."

      Blue eyes moved from the man, who was now fully
engrossed in his conversation, to follow the hacker's
movements on the other side of the room.  After a few
quick stretches, she had picked up two medium sized
barbells and began going through sets of arm
exercises.  It was clear from the girl's perfect form
and balance that she had done these exercises many
times as she moved from position to position, working
all the major upper body muscle groups.  He noticed,
for the first time, that her arms and legs were much
firmer and more muscular than he remembered.  Since
she had been wearing long sleeved tops and pants, he
had not really seen the change before now.  As he
moved his gaze slowly over her, he also saw several
bandages, the largest ones being in the middle of her
right calf and over left shoulder.  There were also
various cuts, scrapes, and bruises littering the pale
flesh.  *So that's why she's been dressin' like that.
Must not want her mates to see, which means she
doesn't want them to know she's been workin' with the
dark-haired bloke.  Hmmm, interesting.  Red's got
herself a little secret.*

      Spike was pulled from his thoughts as the man put
away his cell phone and started over towards the
redhead.  Seeing his approach, Willow set down her
weights and stretched the muscles she had been
working.  "So, what do you want to work on next?" he
questioned.

      "Um, how about doing some hand to hand.  I'm still
having trouble with some of the blocks and footwork."

      "Sure.  I'll get your practice gloves and we can get
started."

      Pulling her sweat-soaked tank over her head, she used
it to wipe the moisture from her face and neck.
Setting the top on the bench and grabbing a water
bottle, she drank greedily as she walked over to join
her friend and teacher in the ring.  As she turned,
facing Spike's hiding spot, the vampire caught sight
of a large white bandage covering the lower left
corner of her stomach.  It was obvious by her
well-toned abs that her work-out routine included more
than what he had seen that evening.

      For the next thirty minutes the two went over several
defensive moves including some the vampire recognized
as coming from different karate and judo disciplines.
They then began going over the basics of savat, or
French foot fighting.  Once she could hold the
positions and go through the movements in slow motion,
the older man had her repeat each sequence over and
over, making her increase her speed with every
repetition.  The duo went on like that for almost an
hour before she could perform the moves without
loosing her balance.  The blonde was surprised at how
fast she seemed to grasp the various concepts.  He
also saw first hand how she must have gotten all the
bruises, having watched her fall hard on the mat
numerous times.  After nearly two and a half hours in
the ring, she was moving fluidly on her feet, despite
the pain her injuries must have been causing her.
Spike was impressed with her stamina and athleticism;
almost not believing it was the same girl who barely
managed to stake a fledgling without the slayer's
assistance.

*I bet that's one reason she don't
patrol with Slutty anymore.  Her new fightin' ability
would probably raise too many questions.  'Specially
if she don't want the annoying twits to know what
she's been doin'.  Well that, and the fact that she
must spend a hell of a lot of time working out to be
as good as she is.  And as sculpted, damn the chit's
hot.  I gotta admit; she was pretty before, in that
sweet innocent way, but bloody hell.  I've always 'ad
a thing for strong women.*  The novice witch had
always been the only member of the rag-tag evil
fighters that he actually liked, and who could
actually carry on an intelligent conversation, besides
the watcher.

If he was completely honest with himself, he'd admit
that he might even have a bit of a crush on the girl.
Her innocence was enticing, and it was a lot of fun to
see how many times he could make her blush in one
conversation.  The young woman he had seen in the last
few hours, however, was quite different than the shy
hacker he had always thought she was.  But this new
development just made him want her all the more.  Of
course, he, William the Bloody, would never admit that
fact aloud.  Yet, whether he spoke it out loud or not,
it was still true.

      His musings were cut short once more as the object of
his thoughts exited the ring, downing half the bottle
of water as she went through a previously unnoticed
door.  Several minutes later, she returned, having
changed back into the clothes she had worn to the
club.  The vampire assumed she must have taken a quick
shower to rinse off, since her hair was wet.  While
she had been changing, her instructor had gathered her
things for her.  Handing them to the tired girl, the
two made their way back into the main room of the
club.

      Spike left his hideout as well, following them back
to the hacker's at a discrete distance.  When they
reached the Rosenberg's front porch, he hid nearby,
just close enough to be able to catch their
conversation, yet not close enough to be 'detected' by
the girl's companion as he had that first night.

      "Great job tonight Mys.  I think you made a lot of
progress."

      "Thanks Trav.  I think I've finally nailed that
course.  It sure took me long enough though."

      The gentleman smiled at this, shaking his head
slightly.  "You're too hard on yourself.  Your times
are a lot better than I would have expected from
someone who's only been running that course for under
two months.  Then again, you always seem to catch on
to everything a little faster than I anticipate."  Her
cheeks redden slightly at the compliment and he let
out a small laugh.  "I'll tell you what.  Since you've
made such great progress on the physical aspects of
your training, why don't we work on the magical stuff
for a while?"

      Her face lit-up, a grin forming on her lips as she
looked at Adam.  "Really?  Cool!  I've been working
real hard on my focus and concentration, and I'm
getting better at the new illusions you told me to
try."

      "Good.  We'll meet at the crypt tomorrow, at say,
seven-thirty?"

      "All right, I'll see you then.  'Night."

      "Goodnight Willow."  The two hugged, exchanging light
kisses on either cheek before the man left and she
went inside.

      *Seven-thirty eh?  I guess I've got plans for
tomorrow night.*  A match was struck, flaring bright
against the night sky momentarily as the vampire lit a
cigarette, expelling a cloud of smoke from dead lungs
as he made his way towards the librarian's apartment.

~Part: 6~

      She wasn't at the meeting, having called the watcher
and claimed a headache.  When the others were told
this, the slayer announced that the witch had not been
at the dorm the night before.  Of course, the former
vengeance demon had immediately deduced that Willow
had 'had too much sex with her new orgasm friend and
must be too tired to come.'  The vampire had already
known the girl had stayed at her parent's home again,
but he knew the real reason she wasn't at the
apartment was because of the appointment she had made
with her mystery guy.  However, her call had given him
the perfect excuse to leave.  Stating that 'if the
little witch doesn't have to put up with you bloody
people, then I sure as hell ain't gonna' he had left
the librarian's before anyone could argue.  He was
glad he had left when he did, having barely managed to
get to the hacker's home in time.  As it was, the girl
and her friend had already been at the end of the
block when he arrived.

      Spike followed them to one of the small town's many
cemeteries, where the duo headed directly for one of
the large crypts.  It appeared that they had met there
before, since they had a blanket and bottles of water
stashed inside.  As the blonde stationed himself
behind a nearby mausoleum, the two spread-out the
blanket.  Sitting down cross-legged, they faced each
other and the man began speaking to her.  The vampire
assumed he was giving her instructions as she closed
her eyes and began taking slow, deep breaths.  A faint
image began to slowly appear between the pair,
gradually taking shape and becoming more defined.  The
translucent apparition seemed to solidify, looking
more and more real as the petite witch's brow creased
in concentration.  Within moments, Spike could make
out facial features.  The face grew more defined by
the second until a startlingly familiar visage floated
eerily in front of the now smiling girl.  *Bloody
hell!  What the fuck is that chit playin' at?*  He
swallowed noticeably, too disturbed by the sight to
form any other coherent thoughts.

      "Alright, now relax your body.  Take long deep
breaths until you are completely relaxed.  Now clear
your mind.  Picture the face in your mind's eye.
Remember, it should be someone you know well so that
you can picture it perfectly and make the image as
realistic as possible.  See it from all angles, see
each part of the face; the eyes, the mouth, the chin,
the nose, the ears, the hair.  Weave the magical
energies together to form exactly what you see.
Picture the whole face, the more detailed, the better.
This is supposed to look like a real live person.
Give it an expression, think of the individual's
personality.  See shadow and light, this isn't a
drawing, give it depth.  Good, very good."

      She recalled a conversation she had had with her
teacher a month earlier and how he had told her that
when performing illusions, you normally got the best
results if you were creating something, or someone
that you had strong feelings for.  Whether it was a
favorite toy from your childhood, or your very best
friend, the more strong emotions you associated with
it the more alive the product turned out to be.
Especially if you were just starting.  As she thought
this, one face came into her mind.

It took little
thought to give the face perfect detail, she had
pictured it so many times that she seemed to know
every aspect down to the way fluorescent lamp light
played on the subtle waves of the short hair.  The
entire world fell away as Willow concentrated on the
illusion.  She saw the face in her mind, picturing the
person in a thousand different situations before
settling on the expression she wanted it to have.  She
focused on nothing but the face she saw so clearly
behind her eyelids.

      When she finally completed the task, she focused her
gaze on the air between herself and her friend only to
find herself staring into twinkling blue eyes.  She
let out a slight gasp as she took in the result of her
labor.  If it wasn't for the fact that the head seemed
to sit on thin air, she would have believed he was
actually standing right in front of her.  The face
seemed to exude confidence and sexuality, with the
lips forming a sensuous smirk.  Even though the
cemetery was lit only by the moon overhead, it looked
as if he was in a brightly-lit room with the
artificial light shining on his platinum locks.  He
was exactly how she had seen him in her head, exactly
how she had pictured him so many countless nights as
she repeatedly contemplated the hopelessness of her
attraction to the neutered vampire.  She smiled as her
emerald gaze drifted over the face, allowing the
evidence of her feelings for him to darken her eyes,
knowing that she didn't need to hide it since it was
not actually the blonde himself.

      "Spike, I presume?"

      The question broke through her reverie, shattering
her concentration and causing the image to dissipate,
clearing the air between them.  She looked at her
instructor, seeing the amusement in his dark eyes.
"Yeah, how'd ya quess?"  Her tone was flat and dry as
she watched him laugh and shake his head.

      "Well, considering how often his name seems to pop up
in conversation, I pretty much expected he would be
the one whom you would chose to use for the exercise.
It is rather nice to finally have a face to put with
the name now."  She shrugged her shoulders, unable to
form a suitably flippant reply as she wiped her wet
brow with the sleeve of her shirt and took a long
drink from her water bottle.  "You look exhausted, why
don't you head home.  I'll put this stuff away."

      Smiling warmly at him, she stood and moved off of the
blanket so he could fold it back up.  "Thanks Adam.  I
didn't think the illusion would make me so tired."

      "No problem, and with the hours you normally keep,
I'm surprised you had the energy to do such an
excellent job."  A light blush colored her cheeks as
she gave him a small wave and headed towards the front
of the cemetery.

      "Night Trav."

      "Night Mys."

~Part: 7~

      Willow exited the cemetery, turning onto the dimly
lit street that would take her to her parent's home.
It had been about a week since she had slept at the
dorm.  She was considering just moving back into the
house to save on room and board, but was reluctant to
leave Buffy without a roommate.  About a block from
the house, she heard what sounded like a struggle
coming from the shadowed alley ahead of her.  Debating
whether or not to interfere, she slowly approached the
entrance.  When she heard pain filled whimpers from
the darkness she pulled the stake from her waistband
and cautiously stepped into the dark alleyway.

      A vampire held a terrified young girl against the
wall, his fangs hovering over her neck as he prepared
to bite into the exposed jugular.  Not wasting any
time, the hacker struck out with her left foot,
catching the young vampire on the side of the knee and
breaking his leg in one swift movement.  As he howled
in pain and turned to face his unexpected attacker,
she spun and delivered a hard roundhouse to the side
of his head with her right foot.  Facing the enraged
vampire, she quickly punched him in the gut while
blocking his right-cross with her left arm.  Before he
recovered from the blow, the redhead lunged forward
and plunged her stake into the vampire's heart.  He
exploded into dust and Willow went over to check on
the crying girl.  The brunette looked at her, shock
and fear clouding her gaze.

      "W-what w-was..."  The girl's eyes shifted to look
over the witch's shoulder, growing wide as her skin
paled, her mouth opened in a silent scream.

      Turning, the hacker found a pair of beady black eyes
running over her body, the creature's lips twisting
into a grotesque sneer, exposing vampiric-like fangs.
This was no vampire, however.  Telling the girl behind
her to leave, the redhead watched the brunette run
into the street before looking over the bulky demon in
front of her.  Its rough skin was mustard yellow with
blotches of green across the face and chest.  It had
dark orange horns along its arms that ran across its
shoulders and up the sides of its neck.

      Kicking out, she connected with its jaw and aimed a
left-cross at the side of its head.  The demon simply
laughed and backhanded her, sending the small witch
into the brick wall behind her, pulling out a long
sword as she struggled to her feet.  Wincing, she
swung her right leg into another roundhouse, knocking
the broadsword from its hands.  The demon smirked
evilly at her as it reached behind itself to pull a
second sword from a scabbard strapped to its back.
Eyeing the blade, she wished she had brought her own
rapier with her to the meeting at the cemetery.  As
she thought of the meeting, she realized that her
friend took a similar route to his apartment as she
did to her parent's house.  Hoping that he was nearby
she called his name as loud as she could.  The demon
took advantage of her distraction, bringing the sword
down and cutting deeply into her upper left thigh,
causing her to cry out.  "Ow, that hurt, you asshole."

Trying to ignore the pain, Willow turned her
attention back to her opponent, attempting to remember
her lesson from the night before.

      Spike had been trailing the witch since she left the
cemetery, his thoughts still on what he had seen, his
mind too preoccupied to notice the hacker turn into
the alley ahead of him.  The girl's creation of an
illusion had not surprised him, but he couldn't seem
to figure out why she had created one of his face.  If
she was going to make anyone's image, he would have
thought it would be someone like the slayer or moron.
But it had been him.  It was oddly pleasing to him
that she would do so, but strange just the same.

      A young girl rushed past him, the fear rolling off of
her body in pungent waves.  Watching her race down the
street, he wondered what she was running from.
Looking around, he saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Actually, he saw nothing at all.  *Where the 'ell is
Red?*  Thinking she must have gotten ahead of him
while he was lost in his thoughts, he increased his
pace slightly.

      "AAADAAM!"  The scream slammed into him.  Recognizing
the voice, he broke into a run, heading towards the
source of the sound.  He made it the four blocks to
the alley in just minutes, but what he saw when he got
there made him stop in his tracks.

      A large demon had the redhead backed into a corner,
it's bloody sword poised to strike.  "No!"  As the
word left his lips, the demon plunged the blade into
her stomach and an excruciating cry was torn from her
throat.  Seeing a second sword lying discarded on the
ground, the vampire ran forward, picking it up and
lunging at the demon.  The sword the demon had been
holding was still imbedded in the witch's stomach,
leaving the demon without a weapon.  Before the
creature was able to fight back, the blonde swung the
blade, cleaving its head from its shoulders.

      Spike dropped the weapon and was at her side as the
demon's head hit the ground.  The hilt of the sword
protruded from her stomach and her hands were wrapped
around the blade in a desperate attempt to staunch the
flow of blood.  Despite her efforts, blood poured from
the stab wound and the deep cut on her thigh, staining
her clothes crimson.

      Falling to his knees, the vampire carefully gathered
her into his arms.  Supporting her head with his right
arm, he put his left hand over hers around the sword.
He knew better than to pull it out, instead moving his
left arm under her knees to try and pick her up and
take her to a hospital.

      "No...st-ay"  Her voice was weak, barely carrying to
him over the light breeze.

      "Pet, we have to get you to a hospital.  The doctors
can-"  His voice cracked when she shook her head,
struggling to remain conscious.

      "T-too l-ate."

      "No, no, it ain't.  You'll be fine.  Just as soon as
we get 'cha to a hospital."  He looked down at her,
not wanting to admit to the pain that surged through
him at the sight.  The color had drained from her
face, leaving the skin a pasty white.  Her expression
betrayed the blinding pain that wracked her body as
her life's blood pooled on the ground around them.

      Slowly raising her right arm, the hacker placed her
hand on his cheek, her blood-stained fingers making
red smudges on his pale skin.  His own hand came up,
covering hers.  "Sp-"  She broke off, taking in a
ragged breath.  "Spike...don't...don't for-...don't
forget...forget me."

      "I could never forget you luv.  Not even if I bloody
well wanted to."  Blue met green, and for the first
time, she let the love shine in her emerald gaze as a
slight smile played on her lips.  "Willow...I-"  Her
hand slipped from beneath his, falling limply to the
ground as her head rolled back and her eyes closed.

"Noo, no..."  The vampire lowered his head, his hand
gently stroking her cheek, and did something he had
sworn never to do again after Drusilla left him.  He
cried.

~~~*~~~

      The immortal had been on his way home when he heard
his name called from several blocks away.  If the
night hadn't been so quite and if he had taken the
more direct route to his apartment he never would have
been close enough to hear it.  But he had, and
somehow, he recognized the distant voice.  He'd ran as
fast as he could, but by the time he arrived, there
was nothing he could do.  His chest constricted with
pain.  He knew it would happen eventually, but he had
hoped it could've been avoided for at least a few
years.  He should have known better, they were on a
hellmouth after all.  From the alley's shadowed
entrance, he watched the blonde hold his friend's
lifeless body to him, the large broadsword still
imbedded in her stomach.
The brunette's eyes took in the demon's dead body,
it's head severed and lying next to a discarded sword.
The older man assumed it had been the work of the
grieving vampire, for although his young student's
skills had been progressing daily, he knew she would
not have been able to defeat such a foe.  Especially
unarmed and exhausted as she had been.  Shaking his
head, his dark eyes tinged with sorrow, he left the
blonde to mourn his loss.  With his friend and student
now dead, he would need to go to the city morgue soon.
This would be the last night either himself or his
new friend would spend in Sunnydale.  As he headed
towards his apartment to pack his things, he pulled
his cell phone from his jacket and pressed speed dial.

      "Hey Joe, it's Methos."

~Part: 8~
City of Los Angeles: 2005

      Cordelia Chase had worked for Angel Investigations
for just over five years, and had been involved with
her boss for almost two.  She loved what she did,
liked helping people, but there were some things about
her job she wasn't terribly crazy about.  Like going
to a small wiccan shop at 8:00 at night to pick up an
assortment of rare herbs needed for a spell to kill a
homicidal demon.  Yet here she was, standing in
Merlin's Magikal Mart, waiting for the store's owner
to locate all of the plants she had requested.

      The bell on the door rang, causing the owner of the
establishment to glance up, and see one of her regular
customers entering the shop.  Dana smiled over at the
young woman and put another packet of dried herbs into
the basket she was filling for the tall brunette.
"Good evening Ash, what can I get for you today?"

      "Hey Dana.  I just needed a couple candles and some
oils."

      "All right dear, let me know if you need anything
else."

      The seer felt a strange sense of deja vu as she
listened to the shop keeper speak with the new
arrival.  There was something oddly familiar about the
voice.  As the other customer approached the rack of
aromatherapy candles across the store from her, the
former cheerleader examined the girl Dana had called
Ash from the corner of her eye.

      The first thing the secretary noticed was the black
motorcycle helmet in the woman's left hand.  The
second, was her clothes.  She wore a pair of black
boot-cut leather pants and heeled black boots.  A
tight black muscle tank exposed a thin strip of pale
flesh between the bottom of the top and the low
ridding pants.  Despite the warm night, the woman had
on a thigh length fitted black leather jacket.  The
waist length hair hung over the leather-clad shoulder
so Cordelia was unable to see her face.  The hair was
a dark red color that made the secretary think of a
shy hacker she once knew in high school.  That thought
brought a twinge of sadness, as she remembered the
witch's death and she turned her attention back to the
woman next to her.

    The crimson-colored tresses were braided into hundreds
of thin plates with a thin black ribbon woven into
each braid.  As the young woman turned slightly, the
brunette saw a necklace resting against the black
tank; it was a silver claw grasping a small crystal.
There was also a thick black leather dog collar around
her neck that was covered with sharp looking silver
spikes.  If it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of
the redhead's chest, the seer would have thought she
might've been a vampire.

      Chocolate orbs followed Ash to the counter where the
girl paid for her items.  "Oh, I wanted to tell you,
the book you ordered last week should be in the day
after tomorrow."

      "Thanks Dana, Mac and I will be by for it after we
close the shop if that's all right."

      "Of course dear.  I'll see you then.  Blessed Be."

      "G'night, Goddess bless."

      As the redhead and owner exchanged good byes, the
girl turned to wave at the older woman and Cordelia
got a clear view of her face.  The seer gasped, the
makeup was dark and heavy, the expression hard and
set, the emerald eyes completely lacking in their
former bright optimistic innocence, but the face was
still recognizable.

      Absently taking and paying for the herbs, the
brunette headed out into the warm evening and towards
the large hotel that held the headquarters for Angel
Investigations, her thoughts repeating themselves over
and over again.  Willow Rosenberg was alive.

~Part: 9~

      The two vampires entered the antique store, looking
over the different items.  Sire and childe both
stopped short as an odd feeling swept over them.
Spike glanced at the brunette next him, and could tell
by the expression on his companion's face that he felt
it as well.  The last time he had experienced that
particular feeling was when he had first seen the
strange dark-haired man with Willow over five years
before.  He had never mentioned the occurrence to his
sire when he had moved down to LA, having been too
wrapped up in his grief to think much about anything
other than the hacker's death.  He had came to stay
with the elder vampire to escape the painful memories
in Sunnydale, subconsciously seeking the comfort of
the only father he had ever known.  The blonde had
received the solace he was looking for and had stayed
in the large city and helped the small group at the
detective agency.  The girl's death, and the sudden
realization of his feelings for her had left a wound
that was still healing.

      Hearing the store owner's approach, Spike shook off
his melancholy thoughts and followed his sire to the
counter.  He watched Angel speak to the other brunette
and waited for the two men to finish so he could go
back to the hotel and beat the crap out of the
punching bag.  The proprietor brought out the axe
Wesley had dropped off to be repaired several days
before.  Thanking the man, Angel and Spike left the
store and went back to the Hyperion.

      Duncan watched the two men leave the shop.  He knew
they weren't immortal's, instead deducing that they
must have been vampires to have given him the odd
tingling sensation he had felt when they entered the
shop.  He had never encountered vampires that were as
seemingly harmless as those two had been and he
wondered how they had come to be that way.  He was
pulled from his thoughts as he felt his small friend
enter the back of the store and noticed that she was
holding a bag from her favorite wiccan store.  When
Methos, or Adam as he went by now, had told him she
was a witch he had been quite skeptical.  He had known
a couple witches in his long lifetime but the small
girl didn't look anything like them.  Any doubts,
however, were thrown out the window when he had
watched her light a cigarette from a small flame that
had appeared on the tip of her index finger, only to
disappear when she had finished.  Then of course there
were the levitations, illusions, and teleportations
she performed semi regularly.

      As he always did, Duncan felt a pang of sorrow as he
looked into her eyes.  She had seen so much, been
through so much, in her young lifetime.  She was a
strong one though, stronger than he had imagined.
What really got to him, however, was how jaded and
bitter she had become, especially considering how
innocent she'd been just five years before, despite
all she had experienced in her hometown.  Immortality
had scarred her, though.  He assumed it had a lot to
do the Game; the rules had been hard for her to
accept.

    But it was more than that, he knew.  She never spoke
of her life before her first death, but from what
Methos had told him, she had left behind some very
close friends.  Duncan never questioned her about her
past but he had always been curious about the people
that had meant so much to the girl. Duncan wasn't even
very good friends with her himself, but he hoped that
would change someday.  She never let anyone close,
except Methos.  Then again, Methos was the one who had
found her - well he'd exactly found her so much as
been drawn to her, something about a magical
connection having formed when he'd seen her that had
led him to approaching her online and forming a
friendship with her.  Anyway, Methos had trained her,
and was the one who had helped her through the
transition into her life as an immortal.

      "Hey Mac, you in there?"

      He pulled himself from his reverie, and shot the
young woman a smile.  "Sorry Ash.  Were you saying
something?"

      "Yeah.  Dana's gonna get that book in the day after
tomorrow.  I told her we'd be there to get it after we
close up."

      "Ok."

      "So, what are we havin' for dinner tonight?"  Closing
the shop for the night, the two immortals headed to
their favorite cafe to catch a quick meal before their
evening sword practice.

~Part: 10~

      The two vampires entered the hotel, the blonde
heading up the stairs to his room to make good use of
his personal punching bag while his sire went over to
his office.  When Angel opened the door, he found his
lover waiting for him.  Giving the brunette a kiss, he
noted the troubled expression on her beautiful face.
"What's wrong CC?"

      "Where's Spike?"  Cordelia had been running over the
events at the shop for the last thirty minutes as she
waited for the vampires to return and while she was
sure the woman she had seen was indeed Willow, she
wasn't sure whether to tell the blonde.  He had been
so strongly affected by the hacker's death that the
seer didn't know how he would react to the news and
thought it would be better to investigate further
before he was told.

      "Upstairs, why?"  Closing the door, he sat next to
his secretary, trying to figure out what was going on.

      Deciding that the best approach would be to just tell
him straight out, she looked him straight in the eye.
"I saw Willow."

      Sadness filled the chestnut pools.  "Willow's dead,
CC."

      "I know that, but I saw her.  Alive.  Tonight at the
shop, when I was getting the herbs, I saw her.  She
looks a lot different, and I think she goes by Ash
now, but it was her, I know it was."  By now, the
former cheerleader was pacing the large office as she
explained what had happened less than an hour before.

      Angel listened intently as she described the events
that had transpired at the small store.  When she was
done with the short narrative, he shook his head, not
quite sure what to make of the situation.  Willow had
died five years ago, in Spike's arms in a dark alley
in Sunnydale.  Her body had been taken to the city
morgue shortly thereafter.  And yet Cordelia swore the
girl she saw was the same Willow Rosenberg.  *But how
is that possible?  Cor said she wasn't a vampire, so
how can she be alive?*   The sound of his childe
descending the hotel stairs prevented further thought
or discussion, but the dark-haired vampire was
determined to figure out what was going on, and who
exactly his lover had seen at that shop.  Before he
was able to make any more plans, that bleach blonde
poked his head into the office.

      "I'm gonna go for a stroll, see if I can't find any
demons to pummel, wanna come Pops?"  Angel nodded in
agreement and gave his seer a quick kiss before
joining Spike in the lobby.  The younger vampire
grinned at the girl's look of disappointment.  "Don't
worry Mum, I'll have him back in no time."  Chuckling
at the young woman's muttered curses at the hated
title, he led his sire out into the warm night.

~~~*~~~

      Duncan swore bitterly as he followed the two
immortals into an alleyway.  He and Ash had been on
their way back from the cafe when they had been
intercepted by the man who had mistakenly challenged
his companion.  Many individuals had been misled by
the girl's young age and petite form, thinking she
would be easily defeated.  Had he not known her, he
might have thought so as well, but he did now her, and
he knew what she was capable of.  Her mortal
background had prepared her well for her life as an
immortal, add to that her magical power and innate
fighting abilities and she was a fierce opponent
indeed.  She rarely used magic when she fought, opting
for straightforward combat.  However, when in dire
straights or when up against someone who did not fight
fair, she would make use of her mystical skills.

      She may have only been immortal for five years, but
she had begun her training much sooner, if only in the
form of her experiences with the slayer.  She also had
the advantage of having Death himself as her teacher
for this never ending test of survival.  Methos,
oldest of immortals, former Horseman of the
Apocalypse, had personally guided her into her new
life.  The two had separated three years ago, and she
had traveled extensively before finding herself in LA
where she had sought out the Scotsman on the advice of
her friend and instructor.  She was more than capable
of defeating a foe two centuries her elder, but she
was still young and relatively inexperienced.

      This fact was barely evident, however, as she began
to fight the older immortal, and Duncan positioned
himself at the mouth of the alley to keep watch.  It
was good that he did so, for within five minutes two
figures could be seen approaching the three immortals.
The fight still appeared to be a stalemate, both
combatants quite evenly matched even with the
prominent age difference.  As the two men got closer,
Duncan experienced the strange sensation that signaled
the presence of a vampire.  As he expected, the two
men where the same ones that had been in his shop that
evening.  They obviously heard the sounds of the
battle taking place in the alley, appearing to prepare
to step in.  The Game's unwritten code strictly forbid
participation of any individual other than the
challenged and the challenger, and so Duncan placed
himself between the men and the dueling pair to
prevent them from interrupting.  Of course, they would
not be able to physically disrupt the fight, Ash
always constructed a magical barrier to prevent such
an occurrence, but they could still distract her, an
action that could very well prove fatal.

      Spike and Angel had been walking for over twenty
minutes when their superior hearing picked up the
faint sound of clashing metal.  Quickening their pace,
they found themselves in front of an alley where two
people where locked in battle.  Before they could go
any further, they were intercepted by a tall man
effectively blocking their path.  Angel recognized the
owner of the small antique shop and was about to push
him to the side so that he could join the fight when
the man shook his head and placed a restraining hand
on his chest.

      The man looked both vampires squarely in the face.
"I'm afraid I can't let you interfere."  The words
were colored with a slight Scottish accent.

      Ignoring him, Spike walked past but made it only a
few steps before running into an invisible wall much
like the barrier that kept a vampire from entering a
home.  "What the fuck?"

      Angel's attention was too focused on the young woman,
successfully holding her own against an opponent much
larger than herself to notice his childe's dilemma.
The girl's appearance matched perfectly with the
description Cordelia had given him of 'Ash'.  He tried
to make out her face, but she was moving too fast and
was shrouded in heavy shadows.  The blonde soon forgot
the force field as he became enraptured with the
superhuman speed and complexity of the fight.  The two
combatants made use of the entire alley, executing
maneuvers with their blades so fast the vampire was
hard pressed to follow the movements.

      As the three supernatural beings watched, the woman
faltered almost imperceptibly, providing the larger
man the opportunity to kick the sword from her hand,
leaving her unarmed.  She responded before the weapon
hit the asphalt, dropping into a squat and sweeping
his feet out from under him with her right leg while
drawing a small dagger from her left boot.  As the man
lost his balance, she stabbed the small blade into his
leg, but with her arm occupied, was unable to fully
block his backhanded swing to her face.  Staggering
from the force of the blow, she tried to kick out with
her left foot but couldn't break through his defenses
and he used it to his advantage, lunging forward and
driving his blade into her stomach and then
withdrawing it.

      Spike was momentarily taken back to that day five
years earlier when he had watched another redhead
receive a similar wound in a different dark alley.  He
forced himself back to the present, forcing down the
searing pain at the memory, watching the woman in
front of him hit the ground, blood slowly soaking
through her black tank.

      She rolled away from her opponent's weapon, picking
up her own sword from where it had landed in the back
of the alley before jumping back to her feet.  As the
man lunged again, she sidestepped, and catching his
blade with hers, twisted quickly, throwing his sword
into the air.  Without taking her eyes from her
adversary, she caught the handle, plunging his own
weapon deep into his chest.  Releasing it, she left
the sword imbedded in his heart as she spun, her blade
cutting through the air and her assailant's neck.  His
head fell to the ground as she hit her knees, her left
hand covering her bleeding stomach.

      As she kneeled on the asphalt, clutching her wound,
the faint streetlight fell on her face, exposing it to
the vampires' gaze.  "Willow!"  Angel took an
involuntary step forward, calling out to the witch.

      Spike took an unneeded breath as he stared into the
face that had haunted his dreams.  Before either could
do anything else, sparks of electricity struck the
young woman, causing her to jerk and twitch.  The
bursts grew larger and more frequent as they bounded
off the alley walls and force fields, centering on her
petite frame.  She slumped forward as the energy
ceased, collapsing, her sword clattering to the
pavement.  The magical barrier at the mouth of the
alley held strong, even as her crimson blood poured
forth from the hole beneath her ribcage.  The entire
situation was far too familiar for the blonde, and he
was unable to move from his position.  Angel was not
suffering the same fate, and Duncan watched him pound
on the invisible barrier as the elder vampire
attempted to go to her side.

      "She's fine.  She just needs to recover."  Duncan had
been quite surprised to hear the vampire yell his
friend's former name, realizing that they must have
known her when she was mortal, a fact that would
surely cause a problem and most likely require
explanations.  He wasn't sure how she would handle
that, knowing she very rarely mentioned anything
connected to her past, the subject obviously not a
pleasant one.

      Angel watched, horrified as the girl paled with blood
loss, her eyes fluttering shut.  "She's dying!"  He
didn't understand why this man was not letting him
help her.

      Spike soon broke from his stupor, and felt the pain
twisted in his gut as he looked, once again at the
dead body of the woman he loved.  The pain turned to
rage as he grabbed the unknown man by the throat and
slammed him into the brick wall.  "Get rid of that
bloody thing," the vampire growled, gesturing towards
the force field.

      "I can't."

      A sharp intake of air from the alley drew the
blonde's attention before he could respond.  Letting
go of the man, Spike rushed to his sire's side and the
two vampires struggled to comprehend what they were
seeing.  Willow was slowly pulling herself to her
feet, a low moan escaping her lips.  "Well, that was
fun."  Her voice dripped with sarcasm, void of the
light cheer the duo remembered from so long ago.  She
looked up and they were shocked by the blank stare in
the now dull green eyes.  The innocent luster was gone
from the emerald pools, in matching with the harsh
lines of bitter experience that marred her beautiful
face.  The firm line of her lips was in total contrast
to the smile that had almost always lingered there in
the past.

      Shaking off the last dredges of discomfort and
fatigue that so often followed a death, she blinked
the haze from her vision, and sheathed her beloved
katana in the hidden scabbard she'd sown into her
leather jacket.  Walking over to the immortal's body,
she roughly pulled the sword free and mentally lifted
the corpse into the nearby trash bin, not in the mood
to dispose of it further.  Dismissing the force field
with a wave of her hand, she walked right past the two
vampires and handed the weapon to her fellow immortal.

      "Here, you might want this one, looks like it might
sell for a couple bucks."  Glancing over at the
gapping vampires indifferently, she spoke steadily and
with no detectable emotion.  "Why don't you take them
back to the shop?  I've got a feeling they're gonna
want to play twenty questions and I don't feel like
discussing it here.  I'm just gonna go home real quick
and change, that asshole got my clothes all bloody and
ruined my tank.  I'll meet you there."  She started
down the street, throwing the last comment over her
shoulder, leaving two speechless vampires behind her.

~Part: 11~

    The tension hung heavily in the small room as the
four men waited for the young woman's arrival.  When
Duncan, Spike, and Angel had reached the antique shop,
Methos had been waiting for his fellow immortals.
Recognizing the blonde, he assumed the vampires would
have quite a few questions.  He had known the redhead
before she had learned of her immortal status, and he
knew how much she had changed from the girl they had
known.  It would be hard for the two vampires to
except those changes, especially not knowing what she
had gone through the last few years.  And she had gone
through a lot.  Dealing with her knew life and the
things she had to do to survive had not been easy on
her.  She had learned to live with the rules of the
Game eventually of course, but at a price.

    Methos remembered how difficult that first year away
from her hometown had been on the redhead and he also
knew discussing that time would be hard as well.  She
had put her time in Sunnydale, and the people she had
known and loved there, in the past.  She'd had no
other choice.  It was the only way she could handle
the reality that she would never again live that life
or see those people.  Now, of course, it seemed that
wasn't quite true.  He didn't know how she would deal
with that.  He was sure her former friends would want
some kind of explanation, but he didn't know how much
of one she would be willing to give them.  So they had
waited for her to arrive so that she could make that
choice herself.  He wasn't about to tell them anything
unless it was ok with her.  This announcement had not
been welcomed by the two vampires, however, and it was
clear by their expressions that they would not wait
much longer for answers.  Thankfully, he felt the
presence of an immortal nearby and heard a motorcycle
drive by the front of the shop, then turn into the
alley behind it; his friend and protégé had arrived at
last.

    "She's here."  As he said it, Duncan looked over at
the older immortal, his expression showing that he too
was worried about how she would deal with this turn of
events.

    "How do you know?"  Angel glanced at the shop owner,
distrust evident in his tone.

    The Scottish immortal decided it would be better to
not mention his ability to sense her, and instead
pointed towards the back of the shop where his friend
was cutting the roaring engine of her Yamaha.  "That
was her that just rode by.  She's out back parking."

    The dark-haired vampire looked at him with disbelief.
 "Willow rides a motorcycle?"

    "Willow doesn't do anything; Willow's dead."  All
four of the small room's occupants turned to the door
at the calmly spoken words.  "Ash rides a motorcycle."

    The redhead slipped off her fitted leather jacket,
lying it on the table next to the door before setting
her helmet on top of the coat.  She had felt her
mentor's presence when she had rode up and immediately
sought out his face, finding him situated next to the
antiquities dealer on the other side of the room.
Allowing the slightest of smiles to tug at her lips,
she walked over to him, where the two friends
exchanged a brief hug.  The smile widened ever so
slightly when she felt her mentor's sword through his
coat; oh how she had hated that sword when he'd first
been teaching her to use one of her own.  She
remembered all the times he'd scheduled meetings with
her only to come late or early, sneak up on her and
attack.  Those surprise fights had gone a long way in
getting her comfortable with the weapon she now
trusted her life to.  But she still didn't like that
sword.  "Hey Methos.  You're back early."  Her usually
indifferent tone was light and affectionate as she
addressed him.  He was the only person she actually
let herself become close to.  Even Duncan was kept at
arm's length.   The young immortal hadn't developed
any real relationships since leaving Sunnydale.  She
found it easier that way.

    Father and childe looked up at the girl that had
spoken, not believing it was the same witch they had
both known.  She was dressed completely in black
leather, from the jacket she had removed, to the
heeled boots encasing her feet.  The pants clung to
her muscled legs, hugging her hips and flaring at the
ankles.  The sleeveless top had a scooped neck and
thin elastic straps.  The long braids fell over her
back, hiding it from their sight, but the straps
crisscrossed over the alabaster skin, holding on the
backless tank.  The only color on the outfit was the
sharp silver spikes on her dog collar.  When his lover
had described the girl's makeup, Angel had thought she
was exaggerating, but now he knew she was not.  Thick
black liner outlined the dark emerald eyes and deep
crimson eye shadow was applied to her eye lids.  Her
lips were painted with the same dark red, as were her
nails.  As she tucked her plaited tresses behind her
ear in a painfully familiar gesture, the vampires
noticed almost a dozen small silver hoop earrings
running up her ear.

    Angel ran his eyes back over her form as his childe
sat in stoic silence next to him.  The brown eyes
stopped at her right bicep where he was surprised to
find a tattoo.  A blooming rose was situated on her
shoulder with its stem wrapped twice around her arm.
Small drops of blood seemed to well up under the
thorns as if the stem was actually biting into the
flesh of her arm.  The deep scarlet petals themselves
dripped crimson, seeming to bleed on their own.  He
absently noted that the tattoo artist that had done it
was quite talented.

    His attention was still focused on the young woman
who was in every way a complete contrast to the
innocent hacker he had left in Sunnydale.  He had had
to force down a shudder when she had entered the room
and spoken so callously about her own death; her eyes,
cold and distant, her face void of emotion.  He
watched as the ghost of a smile formed on her face as
she greeted the man Spike had told him was the one the
blonde had seen with her in Sunnydale before she was
killed.  As he thought of the connection, a question
arouse in his mind.  "Methos?  I thought your name was
Adam.  Isn't that what Willow called you that night?"
Spike had told him every detail of that night many
times over the years, and he was sure his childe had
said that the hacker had called out the name Adam.  As
he looked over at the girl, he watched any trace of
the small smile vanish as all expression left her face
and her eyes turned cold once more at the mention of
her past.

    The dark-haired immortal looked at the brunette
vampire, squeezing her hand in an effort to offer her
some form of comfort.  "It's both actually.  My name
was originally Methos, but now a days I go by Adam.
When you've lived as long as I have, it becomes
necessary to change your name periodically.  It tends
to make things a bit easier and keeps me
inconspicuous."

    "Exactly how old are you?"  His tone was somewhat
sharp, annoyed at all the evasive answers he had
received that evening.

    "To be completely honest, I can't quite remember the
exact figure, but I'd say I'm roughly 5000."  The
souled vampire stared at the man, caught between utter
disbelief and amazement.  "You didn't think vampires
were the only immortal beings did you?  Well, actually
vampires are considerably more mortal than we are.
Considering all the ways you can be destroyed."

    Confusion and frustration fueled his anger and he had
to force down his demonic face.  "What are you?  Are
you a demon?"

    "No, we're not at all demonic.  None of us are quite
sure what we are, specifically.  Or how we came to be.
 All we know is that we are born as normal people,
well I'm not sure if you could say that for me, but
the rest of us were born normal human beings.  If we
suffer a violent death, we are from then on, immortal.
 The only thing that will permanently kill us is
decapitation."

    Angel shifted his gaze to the silent redhead, briefly
meeting her dull, impassive eyes before breaking the
contact as a chill made its way up his spine.  "So,
you're..."

    She finished his sentence with indifference.  "-stuck
here until someone manages to chop my head off."
Her words brought back the fight he had witnessed
between her and what he assumed was another immortal
in the alleyway.  As if reading his thoughts, Duncan
nodded his head, saying, "Yes, many immortals try to
kill other immortals.  It's all part of the Game."

    "The what?"  The former Scourge of Europe found
himself confused once more.  The witch's disgusted
voice cut into his thoughts.

    "The Game.  It's like one big fucking pissing
contest.  The only rules are that fighting is
forbidden on holy ground, and fights are one on one.
One 'team' is made up of headhunters, out for power
and supremacy.  The rest of us try and avoid fighting
when we can, but we live by the Game, and
participation isn't exactly optional.  When you're
challenged, you fight, it's that damn simple.  And
you're gonna get challenged.  See, when an immortal is
killed, their life force, their power, is released in
the Quickening.  The immortal that killed them, or the
one closest to them, absorbs the Quickening.
Headhunters basically go around fighting other
immortals, trying to get as many Quickenings as they
can.  There can be only one, ya see, and they all
wanna be the last."

    "But why?"

    Her voice dripped with bitter sarcasm and her
features twisted with repulsion.  "That's the thing.
Nobody even fucking knows what the illustrious Prize
actually is.  Hell, the last immortal could be turned
into a pile of horse shit for all we know.  We all
just run around cutting each other's heads off, saying
'there can be only one,' for no apparent reason.  Oh,
there's theories.  Some think the last remaining
immortal will get all the power and strength of every
immortal that has ever existed, which if it ends up to
be true and a headhunter is the one, could be pretty
damn scary.  And then there's the other theory.  A lot
of us think the last will become mortal again, and be
able to have kids, grow old and finally die."  Angel
looked strangely at the witch at her last statement.

    "Oh, right, I forgot to tell you.  Immortal's can't
have kids.  Some fucking asshole decided to take that
away in exchange for watching everyone you know die
around you."  A sickly sweet tone colored the words,
matching the sneer that shaped her dark lips.

    The girl's manner was quite shocking to the blonde
vampire, who had known only the happy, sweet hacker
from Sunnydale.  Both vampires were having a hard time
taking in everything they had been told, although
Spike gave little sign of it.  He sat next to his
sire, still trying to accept that the woman he had
loved, had grieved for, was alive.  He had been
watching her, and it was obvious that her new life had
greatly affected her, hardened her.  Still coming to
terms with everything he had learned, he let Angel ask
the questions.

    And that's exactly what he was doing, his chocolate
brown orbs landing on the now tense witch.  "So,
tonight-"

    Her clipped tone cut him off.  "I was challenged.  I
fought.  I won.  End of story."  Obviously
uncomfortable with the direction in which the
conversation was headed, the young woman stood and
walked briskly over to her jacket.  "If you don't
mind, I'm gonna go outside for a bit."  Without
waiting for a reply, she picked up the leather coat,
opened the door, and went out into the alley, closing
the door firmly behind her.

~Part: 12~

     Several minutes after the young immortal had gone
outside, the blonde found himself having a hard time
processing all of the information that he had been
given that evening.  Finding out that his love had
been alive for the last five years while he had
painfully mourned her death, was too much for him to
handle in combination with the discovery that she was
not only alive, but immortal.  He stood, his
restlessness no longer containable as he headed to the
door.  "I need a smoke."  Hoping that it would calm
his raging emotions, he stepped out into the dark
alley behind the antique store.

      Shutting the door, the vampire fished out his pack of
Camels and was searching for his lighter when he saw
the young woman leaning against the building's wall,
smoking her own cigarette.  He noticed that she had
pulled the hundreds of long braids into a single
ponytail.  For the twentieth time that night he tried,
unsuccessfully, to figure out how the sweet, innocent,
optimistic, lighthearted girl he had fallen in love
with could have changed so drastically.  Shaking his
head, he continued his hunt for the lighter he was
sure he had put in his trench coat.  He stopped
suddenly as the topic of his thoughts held a hand out
in front of his face.  Floating above her index finger
was a small flame with which to light his cigarette.
Holding the tip in the flame, he took a deep breath,
igniting the end, before pulling away to lean against
the wall next to her.  Crystal blue eyes watched the
flame disappear before she dropped her hand back to
her side.

      A sarcastic smirk twisted his lips as he turned to
look at the silent redhead.  "Ya know, those thing'll
kill ya."

      "So I've been told."  His eyebrow rose in a silent
question as he glanced back and forth between her
blank face and the cigarette in her right hand.  She
shrugged her shoulder in response.  "They help me calm
down, give my hands something to do.  Besides, there's
just something about the smell of leather and
cigarettes.  Reminds me of someone I knew once."  Her
shoulders rose once more as she tilted her head to the
side, expressing the impossibility of explaining it
further.

      He nodded his head once in understanding and gestured
towards her left hand.  "You seemed to have learned a
few new tricks since we last saw each other."  He
didn't have to mention the fight earlier that night
for the witch to know he was referring to more than
her magical method to lighting a cigarette.

      "Not really much of a choice.  We all have to do
things we don't want to, it's just the way things
work."  From the underlying bitterness in her voice,
Spike could tell she was no where near as accepting of
the situation as she would have him believe.  Silence
enveloped the dark alleyway as he tried to think of
something to say, but it was the petite immortal that
finally broke the silence.  "Eleven."  The word was
said quietly, but the utter disgust with which it was
spoken caused it to practically bounce off of the
brick walls around them.  "Eleven challenges, eleven
heads, eleven Quickenings.  Eleven lives.  Eleven
people killed with my sword, by my hand."  The anger
and self-loathing darkened her words and hardened her
eyes as she looked over at the blonde vampire.  "In
the four years I fought with the slayer, I barely
dusted that many vamps myself."  Her failure to use
her former friend's name did not go unnoticed by the
still neutered vampire.  Nor did the shadows of guilt
and sadness that fell on her pale face right before
she lowered it, escaping his gaze.  "Kind of ironic,
isn't it?  I spent four years fighting evil, only to
become it myself."

      "You're not evil pet."  Pain laced through his chest
at the hollow sound of her voice.

      "Aren't I?  Think about it Spike.  We killed vampires
because they killed humans.  They had to kill to
survive, and that was evil.  Well, I kill to survive
too.  I kill human beings.  They may be immortal, but
they're still human.  So tell me, how am I any
different?  How am I any less evil?"

      He had never heard the hacker speak as harshly and
with as much anger and self recrimination as did the
woman next to him.  He could scarcely believe it was
the same girl.  Shaking his head sadly, he forced a
sigh from his dead lungs.  "Vampires kill to survive,
yes.  But they also kill for pleasure, for sport.
Vampires don't feel guilt or remorse for the person
they murder, trust me.  I've killed a hell of a lot
more people than you have, and I don't even feel even
a fraction of what you do.  I've killed for food, and
I've killed for fun.  Somehow I doubt you can say the
same."  Dropping the burnt out cigarette to the
ground, he smashed it into the pavement with the
corner of his boot as he continued.  "I've tortured
and maimed, and loved every minute of it.  I've bathed
in my victim's blood with a smile on my face.  That's
evil, ducks, and it ain't you."

      Sighing, the witch took out another Marborl from her
pack and lit it with her finger, turning away from the
intense blue gaze.  She spoke calmly with an almost
indifferent tone as she remembered a discussion she
had with her mentor over five years before.  "When
Methos first told me about immortals and the Game, I
didn't really think much about the killing.  I didn't
think about the number of heads he must have taken in
his lifetime.  It wasn't until I realized that I was
immortal and a participant in the Game, that I began
to think of what that entailed, of what I would have
to do to stay alive."

      With a fresh cigarette of his own dangling from his
fingers, he asked the question that had been plaguing
him since he had learned that she was alive.  "Is that
why you left?"

      Taking a long drag on the nicotine filled paper
cylinder, she let the question hang for a minute
before she could force herself to form an answer.  "In
part, yes.  When I woke up, I was in a body bag in the
morgue.  I remember how dark and cold it was in that
damn bag.  I don't think I've ever been that scared in
my life.  The last thing I could remember was being in
the alley.  I remembered an enormous pain in my
stomach, and that there was a lot of blood.  And I
remembered you, picking me up, holding me, saying
something about needing to go to the hospital, and..."
Her voice broke off, as if she didn't want to
continue, and instead changed the topic slightly.

      "Methos told me later that he had seen me die and
went straight to the morgue after packing his things.
He miscalculated how long I'd be asleep and how easy
it would be to get access to my body though, and by
the time he got into the morgue I'd been awake a
couple of minutes.  When he got me out, he told me
what had happened; that I had died, that I was an
immortal.  I could tell by his expression that we had
to leave, that I couldn't stay.  I never argued, just
left with him.  I didn't really want to go, Sunnydale
was all I'd ever known, but I had to.  With your
experiences with the hellmouth and everything, I'm
sure my immortality would have been relatively easy
for you guys to except, but I had still died.  I
wasn't the same person you all knew.  Even before my
first death I was changing, but that night I ceased to
be Willow Rosenberg.  I had a new life ahead of me,
one I couldn't lead in Sunnydale.  I had to become
someone else, someone who could play the Game and win.
I couldn't be that person with the people that knew
only shy, innocent Willow."

During her speech, he had walked up and down the
alley, stopping to examine the motorcycle parked in
the corner.  As she finished, her emerald eyes
followed his movements and took advantage of the
opportunity to switch the topic to a more lighthearted
and less memorial one.  "Nice, isn't she?"  Sitting
down, and leaning against the wall, she indicated the
bike with a slight tilt of her head. He nodded,
walking around the machine to get a better look.  As
he continued his appraisal, he noticed a fairly large
design on the side of the gas tank.  A sizable flame
burnt brightly in intermingling shades of red, orange,
and yellow.  Overlaying the fire was the word 'Ash.'
The top of the name was a dark charcoal gray that got
lighter towards the bottom where the letters appeared
to crumble and disintegrate.  Icy blue pools moved
from the image to the jaded expression of the young
immortal in silent enquiry.

Her voice was flat and her face betrayed no remnant
of emotion as she spoke.  "I'm not sure who it was,
but I remember someone having said something about my
fiery spirit matching my flaming hair."  Blowing out a
lung full of smoke she glanced at the word.  "When a
fire burns out and dies, all that's left are ashes,
right?.  Well, I needed a new name, and it just seemed
to fit."

The nonchalance with which she said it sent a shiver
down his spine as he watched her put out her cigarette
and rest her arms on her knees.  Pushing the
disturbing feeling aside, he casually added, "Plus,
it's got the tree thing going for it."  At her
questioning glance, he elaborated unthinkingly.  "You
know, Willow, Ash, MysticTree."  His eyes were
scanning the motorcycle so he didn't see her head jerk
in his direction, her emerald orbs wide.  "Now, if I
remember correctly, there's a Celtic Tree Month of
Willow, and one of Ash.  I assume that's what the
Mystic part refers to.  That and your whole magic
thing anyway."

He was pinned by a piercing jade gaze when he turned
around, and as she spoke, he realized his mistake.
"How the hell did you know about that?"

In a desperate attempt to evade the question, he
plastered an innocent expression on his face, saying,
"About the Celtic Tree Month thing?  Well, I did used
to help out in the Magic Box occasionally, and I
picked up a couple-"

She cut him off, her tone sharp.  "No, the name.  I
only went by MysticTree online, and I know I never
spoke to you on the net.  So how exactly did you know
what my screen name was?"  The slow, calm voice
matched the icy glare aimed in his direction.

Cursing his own stupidity, he stamped out his
cigarette and ran his fingers through his bleached
locks.  This particular topic was not one he wanted to
discuss.  While he had spent many nights and days
after arriving in LA talking with Angel about the
hacker and the events surrounding her death, he had
never told his sire about this.  The information he
had inferred from his findings had not been the type
he had even dared to believe, let alone speak aloud.
It seemed that he no longer had that choice, however,
and he reluctantly explained what he had done that had
given him such knowledge.  Only by sheer will power
did he keep the majority of emotion from his voice as
he spoke.  Keeping his eyes firmly planted on the
ground, he slowly made his way to the mouth of the
small alley.

As his story unfolded, his mind became lost in a
tumultuous sea of questions to which he had not
answers.  After he had taken her body to the hospital
and contacted her friends, he had wandered the town's
dark streets.  Ending up at her parent's home, he had
let himself into her room, and during his visit had
found a discarded printout of an IM conversation
between the hacker and her immortal mentor.  In it,
Adam had explained the proper way to perform an
illusion of an individual.  At the time, he had
forcibly extinguished the burning hope that his
findings had lit in his nonexistant soul.

His mind now conjured the same crucial question which
he had contemplated that night so long ago.  Could she
possibly harbor feelings for a demon such as himself?
He had witnessed first hand her use of his visage in
her illusion.  Could that possibly mean he had met the
criteria for the subject of the magical lesson?  And
if he had, would he still, after all this time?

An identical battle of doubt and hope raged amongst
the witch's thoughts, as his words took her back to
that night five years before when she had experienced
her first death.  Fear gripped her as she realized
what conversation he must have found.  She remembered
having studied one particular printout that night in
preparation for her lesson on illusions from Adam.
Throughout the conversation the immortal had told her
the best way to perform an illusion of a person for
the first time was to use someone that she had strong
feelings for and saw or thought of often so as to
create it most realistically.  The possibility that he
had seen her project his own face in the illusion fed
the flames of panic within her.

She recalled how she had let her emotions show as she
died, thinking at the time that it would not matter if
he learned the truth.  But now she knew better and her
anxiety increased as the possible repercussions
suddenly seemed inevitable.  She had been aware that
she might one day meet up with the blonde vampire
again, though she had never thought it would be so
soon.  She had also contemplated the perceivable
outcomes of such a meeting, knowing all along that
whether he learned of her feelings for him or not, he
would surely not return them.  If he never knew, at
least she could still indulge in the fantasy that he
might care for her.  The icy claw of fear tightened
around her heart at the chance that he might have
figured out what she really felt for him.

She loved him, that she knew.  She had known it for
almost six years.  Though she had never thought that
he would ever return that love, the barely discernible
pain and sorrow that colored his words as he spoke of
her death caused hope to ignite within her.  *Could he
actually feel the same?*  With that question formed
another; one she had to ask, had to know that answer
to.  Out of all the places in Sunnydale, why would he
have gone to her room?  "Why?  Why there?"

Her unsteady voice drifted to his ears from somewhere
behind him, neither having found the courage to face
the other.  He felt his own hope flare to life and
somehow managed to answer despite his fear at her
reaction.  "You were dead.  I guess I needed to be
somewhere..."  For what must have been the first time
in his vampiric existence, Spike was at a loss for
words, not knowing how to express the solace his grief
had forced him to seek amongst her possessions.  "I
just had to be with..."  His voice trailed off and he
had to swallow a lump that had formed in his suddenly
dry throat.

He was angry that he was forced to admit the truth,
and that he couldn't seem to figure out how.  His
frustration mounted, and mentally berating himself for
his own cowardice, he blurted out the truth.  "Bloody
hell, woman!  That shit was all that was left of you.
I had to have time there.  If I couldn't be with you
then I sure as fuck was gonna be with your crap, ok?"
Shaking his head at the uncharacteristic
sentimentality of his actions and mad that he had lost
his temper, he took control of the fear that raged
through him from the fact that he had finally told her
how he felt without even knowing how she would take
the news.  He had always convinced himself that she
wouldn't feel the same, but he still clung to the hope
that he was wrong.  After all, she had chosen to
create his likeness in the illusion, knowing that she
should use a subject for whom she cared deeply.  And
she had looked at him with such tenderness as she lay
dying in his arms.

An offhand comment she had made less than an hour
before took the opportunity to make itself known to
the neutered vampire.  Looking down at his leather
duster, he turned around and made the largest gamble
of his unife.

At some point during his speech, she had moved over
to the bike, and stood facing the back of the alley.
When he reached her, he swept aside the large mass of
braids, his eyes falling on the image of an
intricately designed dagger that was tattooed on her
back, between her shoulder blades.  With the tip of
his index finger, he slowly traced the outline.  The
grip, or handle, of the dagger was the long body of a
dragon, whose tail curled into a circle behind it to
wrap around a pentacle forming the pommel of the
weapon.  The dragon's outstretched wings made up the
hilt while the blade seemed to extend from the beast's
opened jaws.  He felt her muscles tense as he grazed
her porcelain skin with his finger.  Leaning forward,
he spoke quietly into her ear.  "Leather and
cigarettes luv?"  Her dying words to him floated into
his mind and when he spoke again his voice was soft,
but his tone serious.  "I never did forget you, pet.
Hell, I don't think I've gone a single frickin' day
without thinking about you.  Those first few months I
damn near talked peaches' ear off, goin' on about how
much I bloody missed you."  Grasping her shoulders, he
turned her to face him, meeting her eyes with his own.
 Fear, and uncertainty were clear in the emerald
depths as she allowed the carefully constructed walls
around herself to fall away for the first time in five
years.

"Really?"  The tentative voice reminded him of the
innocent girl he had known on the hellmouth.  She
looked down after he nodded in reply.  She had spent
the last five years hardening herself to the world,
building her defenses, and in less than an hour he had
reduced her to the shy, insecure girl she had been
before she met Buffy.  "Goddess, Spike, I missed you
so much."  He titled her face upwards with his thumb
and forefinger, gazing into her eyes in a silent
exchange before he swooped down, capturing her lips in
a passionate kiss.

Remembering that she had to breathe, he pulled away,
gently caressing the side of her face.  "I love you,
you know.  Have for over five years."

"Six."  A puzzled look overcame his features at the
statement.  "I've loved you for six."  A wide grin
spread across both faces and they met in another needy
kiss.  Teeth and tongues clashed, years of pent-up
emotions freed at last.

Reluctantly, lips broke apart, his husky voice
filtering through the lustful haze that had enveloped
the witch.  "See luv, you're not dead, that fire still
burns.  Of course, I might have to conduct a few, more
thorough exams before I can be sure.  But I'd say
you're anything but ashes." He ran his hands up and
down her arms, his cool touch soothing her heated
flesh.

"Well, we wouldn't want there to be any question, now
would we?"  Flashing him an impish grin, she went on.

"So, maybe you should conduct those exams.  Maybe back
at my place?"

His lips curled into a sexy smirk.  "I think you may
be right.  Why don't you let me tell pops I'll met him
at the hotel in the morning, and we can get to work."
He slipped back into the shop, returning a minute
later.  As they prepared to leave, he looked over at
her quizically.  "So, you won't ever die?"

"Not unless I get real sloppy and let someone chop
off my head."

"Well, you know what that means, don't 'cha luv?"  A
slight smile played at his lips as he waited for her
answer.

"What?"  One delicate eyebrow rose, her tone playful.

"That you're gonna have to put up with me for
eternity," he said, shooting her a large grin.

"And how's that?"  She wrapped her arms around his
neck, staring into the bottomless sapphire pools.

His expression turned serious as he cupped her cheek
with one hand.  "I won't let you leave me again, pet.
Not now that I've got you.  These last five years,
thinking you were dead, they were hell.  I won't do it
again."

"Don't worry Spike.  I'm not going anywhere."  Lips
met and tongues played, as the two melted into each
other's embrace.  A few minutes later, they mounted
the Yamaha and rode off into the warm night.

Together.  After all, they only had eternity, and they
didn't want to waste a moment.

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