Angelus escorted her home after their emotional day on the cliffs. They barely spoke to each other, but it wasn't an awkward silence. It was just the opposite, the kind of quiet that can happen between people who are totally comfortable with one another. Although, it should also be said that they were both a little preoccupied. Willow wondered when the best time would be to tell him she was leaving. < Like there will ever be a best time! > She decided to wait until tomorrow because Angelus was going out with Colin tonight to celebrate his friend's birthday, and she didn't want to take the chance of ruining his fun. Angelus, on the other hand, wrestled with when to tell her how he really felt about her, or if he even should. So they rode most of the way in silence, darkness having fallen when they finally came to her cottage.

Willow was surprised to see the lamps burning inside since Spike rarely bothered with such things." He's home," she said softly, then instantly regretted saying it aloud.

Angelus felt a sharp pang of jealousy, but pushed it aside. < Now is not the time. > "Goodnight, Rose," Angelus said tenderly, keeping one eye on the door.

Willow smiled sweetly at him and when his face broke into the scandalous grin that she was beginning to know very well, she wondered how she was ever going to leave him. "Goodnight," she said finally, almost as a sigh, and walked toward the door. "I will see you tomorrow for dinner, right?"

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away."

Willow walked inside, shut the door behind her, and leaned back against it, her eyes closed.

"So, did you two lovebirds have a nice *ride*?"

Willow was startled by Spike's voice. He usually made himself scarce when she came back from being with Angelus. "Cut it out, Spike. I am *so* not in the mood."

Spike clenched his jaw and looked out the window. Even in the darkness, he could see that Angelus was still standing out by the small stable, watching. "Sorry, love," he said as he approached her. "Didn't mean to strike a nerve."

They were standing close to each other now, directly in front of the window, but Willow barely noticed. She was lost in her own thoughts. It wasn't until his hand touched the side of her face that she looked at him. < What is he doing? > "Spike, I..."

"Just getting some leaves out of your hair, Pet. Sorry, I mean *Willow*." His face was inches from hers as he continued pulling phantom flora from her tresses. When he leaned even closer, Willow could have sworn that she felt his breath on her face, if it weren't for the fact that he hadn't taken one in over a century. She found herself instinctively sucking in air as his hand continued to linger near the side of her face. Their eyes locked for a moment, and Willow started reminding herself that this was just another one of his games. < He just wants to see you blush, Willow! He hasn't done that in at least a week! >

"You may want to change, Red. You look like you went a couple of rounds with a chaos demon." His hand moved to her cheek and jaw, rubbing sensually at some invisible smudge.

Willow was too confused to protest. "Uhm, I'm not surprised. It was pretty windy out there today."

Spike told himself that he knew what he was doing. Nevertheless, as he put his plan into motion, he found himself having doubts. No, not doubts so much as an inner knowledge that maybe this all wasn't necessary. But even as his hand lingered in her hair and on her face longer than he intended, reveling in her warmth and trust, he came to the final conclusion that it was necessary. He buried the rest of his feelings deep inside. < Just do it, mate, for Dru. There is no turning back now! > Suddenly, Spike swept her into his arms and headed for her bedroom.

< Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God... > "Spike! What are you doing?" Willow tried not to let the fear show in her voice, but it wasn't easy. Spike had never taken his teasing of her this far before, and her nerves were quickly becoming unraveled.

He waited until they were out of Angelus's range of vision before smiling, trying to break the tension that had rapidly filled their cottage. "Relax, my little virgin. I am just taking you to your room to tidy up, and it occurred to me that I had never carried my bride over the threshold." Seeing her furrowed brow and skeptical look, Spike continued. "Of course, if there is another reason you want me to take you into your room, you can always ask, but I am afraid I am not in the mood tonight, love," he teased. "I have a headache."

With that little joke, Willow felt her tension begin to drain away, and she sighed audibly in relief. < Good, he was only kidding. Everything is back to normal! Right? >

Before she knew it, Spike had set her down on her feet. Then he backed away and stared at her momentarily. She felt the apprehension begin to creep back in as it appeared that he was having some sort of inner struggle with himself.

Finally, he spoke. "Interested in a hand or two of cards before you go to sleep tonight? After you get cleaned up, that is?"

"Sure, Spike. Maybe I can practice that trick of yours where you palm the ace!"

Spike gave her a wicked grin, pleased with his protege's penchant for the finer points of poker, before leaving her room and closing the door behind him. When he walked back in to the main room, the grin widened. Angelus was still out there and had borne witness to his little display. < So far, so bloody good! >

Angelus tried not to look through the window, but he couldn't help himself. Before he had even got back onto his horse, he saw her husband caressing her face and lovingly playing with her hair. Jealously was slowly starting to brew inside of him again, and he tried to push it back down, but it was no use. Instead the envy began to grow and was rapidly setting up a permanent camp in his heart. Then he saw her being swept into her husband's arms and carried to another room. < Their bedroom? > "Damn!" Angel said loudly, but still he couldn't look away. He stood there, fighting the need to just barge in and steal her away from a man that he had never met, when the door opened.

Spike silently stood on the porch studying his opponent and one last time trying to remember the lines that he had created for himself earlier that day. < Let the games begin! >

"So, Angelus!" He called to him, making sure that his face would be obscured by the shadows. "Going home, to bed, *alone*, I see?"

Angelus didn't respond to the taunt, knowing that that was what Rose's husband wanted. So, he stood there clenching his fists, wanting nothing more than to pummel this man to with in an inch of his life, but restraining himself for her sake.

"I suppose you have been pretty full of yourself, up until now that is. Thinking that you were going to take my Rose, and without me even putting up a fight!" Spike's voice was cold and boastful. "But, as you can see, she is here, with me, as she was last night, and as she will be tomorrow, in my bed, as my wife, not yours." He said the words slowly, emphasizing each one so it would hurt that much more.

Angelus could feel his ire building and his jealousy turning to hate, just like he had always wanted it to. He could taste it in his mouth as it burned a path up from deep inside him. And although he somehow managed to remain silent, he was not able to move and escape Spike's torment.

The vampire laughed. "Did you really think she would leave me, for you? What do you have to offer her, besides a vast amount of experience with whores, that is? Whereas I, live only for her, and our future together. As does she for I." Spike could already see the effect his words were having on his enemy, each one hitting him with the force equivalent to his being stabbed with a dagger. "I am sure she has told you that herself. How important I am to her." Spike was playing all his cards, hoping that Angelus wouldn't call his bluff. He wanted him angry and to feel sorry for himself, but not mad enough that he would challenge Spike at this moment.

"She doesn't love ya. She told me as much herself," Angelus's voice quivered slightly as he struggled to remain in control of his temper. He tried to ignore the other man's taunts, but they had already crept into his mind, planting little seeds of doubt.

"Ah, did she now?" Spike said condescendingly, still smiling. "Did she say that she loved you? No, she didn't, did she? Hmm, wonder why that is?" Spike paused for dramatic effect and then went in for the kill. "Oh that's right! Because she is *my* lovely bride, and it is *my* lips that she kisses at night, not yours. *My* eyes see her naked flesh and *my* hands touch her silky skin, not yours. It is my name she calls out in passion, *not yours*! And you better not be forgetting that!"

The Irishman cringed visibly as images of his Rose in this other man's arms held his mind hostage. As his anger, resentment, and jealousy reached a boiling point, he considered for a split second killing the arrogant bastard that stood before him, but thought better of it. Rose would not want it that way, nor would they be together if he had to spend his remaining years in prison. Knowing his restraint would not hold up to anymore of this torture, he jumped on Chance and headed to town to meet Colin and to get very, very drunk.

Spike grinned at his success and slowly walked back inside, whistling happily to himself.
 

~Chapter Twelve~

The following day, Willow was very restless. According to Spike, Darla had arrived in town just before sunrise that day, and would probably attempt to turn Angelus tonight. The plan was simple. Willow would keep Angelus company the next few days, making sure he was never alone on the streets of Galway at night. They figured it wouldn't be too hard, but just in case Willow had decided she was capable of faking a sprained ankle, knowing that Angelus would stay by her side. Meanwhile, Spike would keep tabs on the female vampire, and if necessary befriend her and convince her it was time to head to the next town. That was a last resort though, since they didn't want to take the chance of Darla recognizing him some 50 years later.

"Let's have a toast," Spike said, slamming a bottle of wine on the table and pouring Willow a glass. He smiled as he lifted his goblet. "To the future!"

Willow eyed hers for a moment before picking it up. < Why not, Willow! You're considered adult in this time period anyway! > "To the future," she returned and took a sip, surprised to find she actually liked it. In a few hours she would be meeting Angelus in a pub for dinner, but until then she was quite happy to stay here with Spike. They spent the next hour or so toasting the future and finalizing their plans for the next several decades. They had decided to travel Europe for a while, partly because there were so many places that she wanted to see but also to minimize the chances of running into Darla again or affecting the future lives of William the Bloody or Drusilla. What Willow didn't realize, because she was so caught up in their plans and also because her glass never seemed to be empty, was that she had slowly sipped her way through more than a bottle of wine.

***

Willow rolled over and groaned. Her head was throbbing slightly, and her mouth felt like she had swallowed the pillow. "Ow! So this is what a hangover feels like!" < I am never drinking again! > Abruptly, Willow sat up, "Oh no, I fell asleep!" Looking out the window she could see that it was dark already. She jumped unsteadily out of bed, stumbled to her wash basin, and splashed some cool water on her face, trying to clear away the fog. Suddenly she remembered she was supposed to have met Angel for an early dinner hours ago, and she quickly ran out of her room to find Spike sitting at the table.

He looked up, shocked to see her awake. < Damn, she should have been asleep for hours! That immortality thing must have made her sober up quickly! > "Willow, you look like shit, love. Why don't you go back to bed? Sleep it off," he said, trying very hard to sound nonchalant.

Willow ignored his attempts to distract her, and she closed in on him. "What have you done?" she yelled at Spike. "Why did you let this happen? If Darla arrived in town this morning I need to be with Angelus, otherwise . . ." Willow's voice faded away as her mind came to a screeching halt. < He did this on purpose! Why? > "Oh my God, Angelus . . ." She cast an accusing glance at Spike before she headed for the door, but Spike rushed to block her path.

"You don't want to go out there, love. It's too late now."

"No, it can't be too late! I won't let it be too late," she spat at him. Willow gathered all of her strength and raised her knee into Spike's groin. Spike's face was able to register shock for only a second before the pain hit him and he fell to the floor. Willow fled out the door and headed for the heart of the town as fast as she could run, not wanting to take the time to saddle a horse.

Willow didn't slow until the pain in her side was like a knife, and then she only let her gait fall to a jog. < Why did I trust him? Why did I trust Spike? > repeatedly echoed in her head. Willow was going to look for Angelus in a rougher area of town that she knew he frequented with some of his other friends. When she reached the part of town that she was looking for, Willow began searching the pubs, dark alleyways, and doorways for any sign of Angelus. It was in a dark side street that Willow caught a glimpse of two figures at the other end.

An exquisitely dressed blonde woman was holding a man close to her, but something about it just didn't seem right. Willow walked slowly towards them, barely able to breathe. Then for a brief moment the moon came out from behind a cloud, and she could easily discern the woman's vampiric face, and the man in her arms was none other than Angelus. "No!" she screamed, trying to warn him away. "Angelus, stay away from her!"

Angelus looked up and saw Willow's distressed face just as Darla's facade returned to human form. He looked pleasantly surprised to see her and stepped out of Darla's deadly embrace. "Rose? What are ya doing here and at this time of night?"

"Stay away from her Angelus. She's evil!"

Angelus walked slowly toward her, a confused look on his handsome face. "Darla? Evil? I don't understand." He held his hand out to her, "Rose, I want ya to meet her. I think ya two could become quite close."

"No, you don't understand," Willow said breathlessly, taking a few steps towards him. She reached for his outstretched hand, hoping to be able to lead him away from the beautiful demon.

"Don't go any closer, love." Spike's familiar voice said from behind her. "Like I told you before, it's too late."

Willow didn't turn to look at Spike, unable to take her eyes off of the scene before her. "It can't be too late," her voice a husky whisper. "Angelus," she said louder, pleading. "Please come with me."

Darla moved toward Angelus, keeping her eyes on Willow. Willow couldn't tell by her frozen expression what she was thinking, but she knew she had only seconds to get Angelus to safety.

Willow was about to grab his outstretched hand when she noticed a strange look cross Angelus's face, and it was this slight hesitation that saved her. Her hand flew back to her side, just as Spike put a protective arm around her chest. Due to his inexperience, Angelus was unable to hold back any longer, and he morphed to his all-to-familiar alter ego.

"No!" Willow cried. She watched in horror as his handsome face distorted to the evil thing she remembered all to well. The frightened girl tried to back away only to run into Spike's unmoving form.

Willow slapped at Spike's hands, wanting nothing to do with the vampire who had betrayed her, but his grip on her tightened. "Do you have any idea what you have done?" she whispered at him through gritted teeth, unable to take her eyes of the newly made vampire.

"Angelus," Darla crooned. "Who do we have here? You never told me there was another woman in your life." She glided over to Angelus, slid her arms around his waist and licked his neck. "You also neglected to mention that she has a *friend.* "

"Husband!" Angelus grunted.

"Really," Darla said, surprised. "She doesn't look the type that would marry a vampire. But, you never know. It's always the quiet ones!"

"Vampire?" he growled, confusion making it difficult for him to follow the conversation. As it was, the fledgling vampire was struggling to keep some semblance of control, but her blood was singing to him. Nothing was making sense at the moment, but he didn't care. He wanted to feed.

"Didn't you know? Interesting!" she said studying the girl's face. "But the real question is, why is she still a virgin? No matter, she will be your first. A virgin's blood is especially potent and delicious. Can't you smell it, lover?" she said in his ear, but loud enough for all to hear.

Willow was confused. < Lover? Already? But if he was just turned tonight...? > Scenarios ran through her brain, and then she came to the conclusion that he was probably turned last night, when he was out with his friend. < And Spike knew it all along! >

While Willow was still reeling from the odd twist of fate, Darla continued talking and the two vampires stalked closer to her. "Your first should be special because you will always remember it! Not that *you* would understand that," she leered at Willow.

"Sorry, love," Spike drawled to Darla. "But she is mine, and I will not let this little pup rip her apart. Look at him! He can barely control himself as it is. Disgusting!"

Angelus growled at Spike but Darla soothed him with a caress. "She *will* be my Angelus's first, and you are the one who is disgusting. So attached to a living girl."

Spike ignored the last comment, knowing that it wasn't unheard of for vampires to take human concubines. With a casual glance at Willow he said, "It's not that I mind sharing. I just want to make sure she is still alive afterward, because I am not through with her yet! Tell you what!" he said with mock enthusiasm. "Why don't I start and open her up. Then, rookie here can have his fill, and my little virgin won't be disfigured for what's left of her life. It would be a shame to waste such beauty," he stated as he stroked her cheek and neck with a long, cold finger.

Willow started to panic. She couldn't believe that Spike would do this to her. She struggled frantically against his arms, but he held her tightly. She willed her fright and despair at Angelus's being vamped to turn into loathing, and slowly she felt a spark of hatred for all of them ignite inside of her.

Not waiting for the other vamps to answer, Spike grabbed Willow by the back of her head, pulling it back to expose her neck. "Please," was all she managed to mumble. Spike's eyes met hers momentarily. He could see the fear and hatred burning in them, but Willow was unable to read what she saw in his. < Pity? >

"Don't fight it or you could get hurt," he said quietly before he changed and lowered his fangs to her throat.

Willow closed her eyes when she felt his lips touch her neck. Spike, for the first time since his own changing, tried to be gentle when he broke the skin, but he felt her jerk in pain as the blood began to flow into his mouth. He was unable to control himself and took several swallows of her pure blood before ripping his mouth away. "The rest is yours. Just don't kill her." Spike told Angelus pointedly as he wiped his lips. The blonde vampire was still holding Willow by the back of her head, and he handed her off to Angelus who grabbed her in the same fashion.

Willow felt the world begin to spin, but not because of the small amount of blood that Spike had taken. She had done so much, given up so much, over the past weeks just to suffer in the arms of the man she had tried to save. Spike's warning to the other vampires not to kill her floated around in the back of her mind, but even when it combined with the knowledge that she was supposedly temporarily immortal, it gave her little comfort when she saw the wild look in Angelus's eyes. Willow had never seen him like this, not even when he had lost his soul back in Sunnydale. That Angelus had always been in control, completely aware of his actions, even calculating, but this vampire was totally enslaved by his bloodlust and new-found power.

She looked deep into Angelus's eyes, searching for any sign of the man that she knew, but found nothing familiar. They were cold and piercing, like the eyes of a predatory animal. < Don't think about it Willow. It's not Angelus anymore. It's a demon! > She repeated this mantra over and over again in her mind, letting her anger build and hoping that it would be enough not to let her cry.

"Finally, Rose, our first kiss, and with yer husband's blessin' no less!" Angelus managed coherently, as he eyed his prize hungrily.

Willow struggled unsuccessfully to untangle herself from Angelus, but he only tightened his hold on her. As his angry mouth closed in, she put all of her energy into one last desperate attempt to escape. Remembering one of her 'slayer moves' she rammed her elbow back into what she hoped was his stomach while stomping down on his foot with all her strength. His hold on her loosened momentarily as he growled in pain, and Willow was able to twist away from the arm that encircled her chest. Unfortunately, his fingers were still intertwined in her hair, and with a brutal yank she was back against his chest.

"You are going to regret that, little one," he said with a cruel sneer, and they were the last words Willow heard before his mouth savagely clamped over her still bleeding wounds. Willow slumped in his arms, eyes squeezed tightly shut, as she felt her life being siphoned out of her. Angelus knelt to the ground with the slight girl's body in his arms, completely enraptured by the feeling of his first feed. Willow opened her eyes long enough to send Spike one last condemning look, but her last thoughts were of the people she had let down before she slipped into unconsciousness. < Buffy, Angel . . . I am so sorry. I really messed this whole thing up. . . . >

***

Spike watched intently as Willow and Angelus sank to the ground. His eyes were locked on Willow's paling face, ready to intervene at the moment it looked like the other vampire was taking too much. There was an aching in his gut that he tried to ignore. It wasn't that he felt bad about lying to Willow because he felt he had no choice, and he definitely didn't have any guilt over Angelus's being vamped, but the scene before him made Spike disgusted with himself. To pass her around like she was the only prostitute at a bachelor party was degrading. But here he was, whoring her out like she was a common blood slut. Of course, it wasn't unknown for vampires to use the same human many times for blood. Usually these women, or men, received some sexual gratification from the act, but to offer her to another vampire against her will? It was disgraceful, and to the victim it was only slightly less degrading than rape. Willow deserved better, and for the first time in over a century, Spike felt guilt. < I should have tied her up and locked her in her room or got her out of town while she was still asleep! > He just hoped that Willow would give him a chance to explain.

When Willow's skin began to take on a bluish caste, Spike leapt at them and delivered a swift kick to Angelus's head, causing him to fall to the ground. Angelus jumped to his feet ready to kill the older vampire only to find that he had already scooped Willow into his arms. "I told you not to kill her, you cocky little wanker." Darla hurried to Angelus's side, ready to restrain him from getting into a fight that he was not yet ready for.

Spike took one last look at the couple. "Darla, you better house train your new pet and teach him some manners, or he is going to end up with my fangs for a collar!" With that he started back toward their house, then he added over his shoulder. "I'm sure we will be seeing each other again."

Willow's eyes fluttered open and she was immediately assaulted by memories of the night before. Tears slowly began sliding down her cheeks as she remembered how he had looked at her last night. He was a cold killer now with no memories of his feelings for her and wanting nothing more than to drain her of her very existence. She reminded herself that it wasn't her Angelus, just as the evil thing that had tried to kill her in Sunnydale was not Buffy's Angel. < Oh God, Buffy. How did you survive this? It hurts so much! > Slowly, she dried away her tears, telling herself that she didn't have time to feel sorry for herself. Not now anyway. There would be plenty of time for that later. And as she thought back again to everything that had happened last night, she forgot about her aching body and her feelings for Angelus and felt her temper begin to rise. How could Spike do that to her? Not only did he betray her, and go back on his word, but to let Angelus feed from her. < Heck! He even helped! >

The young redhead crept silently to the door, trying to figure out where Spike was in the house without letting him know she was awake. She was sure that he would be waiting for her to wake up to offer some sort of explanation, but she did not want to hear it; she did not want to forgive him for this.

Looking out the window at the sun high in the sky, Willow finally decided that she couldn't wait any she longer. She would have to get out now. At first she toyed with the idea of just slipping out the window, but there were things she needed first. So, she quietly grabbed some clothes and things, only taking what she could fit in one bag. Holding it tightly, she peeked out her room and breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't immediately see Spike.

Tiptoeing out of her room, she quickly went to the kitchen and took all the money and jewelry that they had hidden in the flour crock. Willow took one last look around the cottage that had been her home for the past couple of months and was just about to slip out the front door when Spike came charging out of his room.

"You're awake, I see," Spike stated, trying to judge her mood.

"No thanks to you," she said accusingly while sidling towards the door.

Spike suddenly spotted the bag in her hand and realized that she was planning on carrying out her threat to leave. "Willow, where do you think you are going?" he asked as he began moving toward her. His hands were held up in a show of truce, "Come on love, white flag here. Let's talk about it."

Willow cast a wary eye between Spike and the door and wondered if she would be able to beat Spike to it. She bolted for the door just as Spike sprang into action. Willow grabbed the handle as he lunged for her, and she was able to throw it open. Sunlight streamed in, missing the vampire by mere inches and effectively blocking his path to Willow. She took one step through the door and turned back to Spike, safe in the warmth of the sun. She stared at the man, no the vampire, that she had just begun to consider her friend, but now could only think of as the man who had betrayed her.

"Just tell me why, Spike. Why did you pretend that you were going to let him live when the whole time you knew you were going to let Darla have him? That was your plan all along, wasn't it?" the petite redhead said from the doorway, the killing sunlight highlighting her hair to a glowing mass to the vampire.

"Damn it, Willow! Come back in and shut the door. I can explain." Spike tried to remain calm, but it was beginning to dawn on him that Willow might actually leave him.

"Explain what? Explain why you have lied to me for the past two months? Or why...why you not only bit me, but then offered me to the rest of this town's vampire population as if I were some kind of sick hors d'oeuvre?" the girl demanded, with growing fury.

Spike groaned in exasperation. "As far as feeding from you, that is your own fault. Why the hell do you think I got you drunk? I wanted you to stay here. Where it was safe. But, no! You had to go and risk everything for your precious Angel, didn't you? You are damn lucky I was there. Angelus probably would have ripped you to shreds. Remember, we don't have a much control in the beginning, so by my feeding from you first, I made sure he didn't hurt you. < And I marked you as my territory as well! >

"Ha! So I should be thanking you then? I'm not thinking so! You betrayed me, you lied to me, and then you used me and passed me around like cheap bottle of wine! As far as I am concerned, what you did to me was worse than anything Angelus could ever have done! "

"Willow, I didn't have a choice! I did not go through all of this, just to take chances in order to save Angel. I want Drusilla back, and if it means I have to drain this entire town of every last bit of blood, then that is what I will bloody-well do. Angel is the one that found her, and Angel is the one that made her the woman I love." Spike was beginning to lose the thin hold he had on his temper as he paced back in forth, just on the edge of the sunlight. "I need that pillock, for now, but I *will* kill him after I am sure that I have the Drusilla that I fell in love with!"

Willow felt herself go cold, as the depths of his deception finally struck home. "God, you're pathetic! I should have killed you when I had the chance. If Drusilla could see you now she would probably kill you herself. Or...or leave you for a real 'demon,' like Angel."

Spike's face jerked back up to meet hers, and it was obvious to Willow that her last comment had met its mark. "Don't tell me what Drusilla would do! You don't even know her! You couldn't even begin to understand the depths of our love!" He was yelling at her now, and it took every last ounce of control not to put on his game face.

"Love?" Her contempt for the blonde vampire was growing exponentially. "You don't even know what love is." Her anger was giving her courage and an unusual clarity of thought. "You're just scared to be alone, to stand on your own two feet. You are so weak that you would kill yourself rather than be alone. That isn't love, Spike. All that is, is a pitiful obsession!"

Spike was stunned, unable to find the words to defend himself.

Willow turned around and took a few more steps onto the porch before looking over her shoulder one last time. "Stick to the time line and don't look for me. I'll find you when and * if* I'm ready!"

"Willow!" Spike yelled after her, finally finding his voice. She never looked back.
 

~Chapter Thirteen~

Year - 1810

Willow walked the damp streets of London, keeping a close eye on her ladies pocket watch and the setting sun. She rarely allowed herself to be out at night anymore. Only when it was absolutely necessary for her job did she scamper quickly down crowded streets, under a lamp-lit night. She wasn't taking any chances of running into vampires, and if that made her life a little more difficult, then so be it. < I deserve it. >

It had been 57 years since she fled the cottage she shared with Spike. Those first days she rode as hard as she could for the ferry that would take her to England, knowing that Spike and perhaps even Angelus would not be far behind. She rode day and night, only stopping to feed and rest the horse, not allowing herself to do the same until she was safe on the ferry.

For a long time she refused to give into despair, instead she chose to cling to her anger like it was a lifeboat. Whenever memories came back to her, as they did everyday, of a happier time, she pushed them away. Not feeling that she deserved any happiness after her failure to save Angel, she rarely allowed herself to remember the good times back in Galway or Sunnydale. Not even of Oz. The only memories she allowed to run through her mind like a 24-hour film festival were of her last night in Galway. She would never forget the look in Angelus's eyes before he tried to kill her, or the feeling of Spike's fangs puncturing her neck.

At first the memories were empowering. They made her angry, which in turn gave her the drive to survive for so long. She also had a plan and that gave her some hope, and for now she even allowed a glimmer of forgiveness for herself.

Willow knew her initial goal should be to contact the Watchers, but she thought it was best to avoid London for the near future. She figured it would be the first place that Spike would look for her. So, instead, her first years were spent at the various centers of study-- Oxford, Cambridge, and others, searching desperately for any clues to the spell that had brought her here or even to the soul restoration spell that she had done back in her own time. Endless nights were passed without sleep as she exhausted herself trying to remember the spell that she had cast twice before, but only fragments of it remained with her. She remembered the order of the spell and many of the herbs but could recall little of the words that she would have to recite. So, she had resorted to what she did best. Research.

She spent the equivalent of years in those libraries, devouring every book and manuscript she could find on magick, witchcraft, druids, and so on, and finding very little. And she did whatever it took to find this material as well. Often she had to dress as a boy to even enter the libraries and had even taken to sneaking in the private rooms of museums and universities where information on these more controversial subjects was often found. She visited monasteries and churches, anywhere that she thought might house the information she desired, but found nothing.

Even her attempts, years later, at locating the Watchers Council were largely unsuccessful. When she was finally able to find a Watcher, he was of no use whatsoever. He had looked down at her, glasses perched on the end of his nose, and declared her to be a fraud. Willow quoted Slayer verse and recited important moments in Vampire history, but was unable to convince him of her integrity, let alone her sanity. She had read that they had been a stoic and closed-minded group in the past, but never did she imagine them so pretentious and unreasonable. In a last attempt to persuade him and to perhaps alter some future events for the better, she handed him a thick manuscript. It contained page upon page of her encounters of the not-so-normal kind in Sunnydale, as well as some select information as to how she came to be in the past. The man took them from her with a snort, but as soon as she was out of sight the manuscript was thrown on the fire. Willow was on her own for now and she knew it.

During these many long years, she managed to survive financially different ways. She held countless jobs, but none for very long. She would barkeep in the town near a monastery while she researched, or she would nanny for a professor near a university. She did what she had to do to survive at the time, and with the combination of that tenacity and the money she had taken from Galway with her, she had managed to spend very few nights sleeping out of doors or going hungry.

The one good thing, she often had to remind herself, was that she was finally able to see England like she had always dreamed, as well as Scotland and Wales. The petite redhead also occasionally made the journey back to Ireland, but her visits were few and short, and she avoided the areas of Dublin and Galway at all costs. At this point she wouldn't allow herself to dwell on Angel's family and what may have become of them. She knew it would compromise her thin hold on, if not her sanity, then at least her hope. After more than 30 years chasing every lead, talking to anyone that claimed to be a druid, or even a descendent of a druid, chasing down wandering gypsy clans, and of reading every book on ancient religions and the occult, she finally gave up.

It happened suddenly. One night she was tending bar in a quiet pub in Carmarthen, Wales, perusing the pages of a yellowing manuscript that claimed this town to be the burying place of Merlin, when it finally hit her. She was never going to find the spells, either of them. This was not going to work and her only way out of this was to meet up with Spike at some point in the future, until he performed the spell to take them home. Either that or never meet up with him and live in the past until she either forged a new life for herself, or couldn't stand it anymore and took her own life. In that instant, the minuscule amount of hope that she had clung to was ripped away from her, and the desperation and loneliness of the past years, and of those yet to come, secured itself in its place.
 

~Chapter Fourteen~

And it was this Willow, the one beaten down and made bitter by despair and guilt and loneliness, that would lay beneath the feather-stuffed comforter for days without getting up or even changing her clothes. She had finally forced herself to come to London, some 25 years after her revelation. She had taken the first job she found, as a bar maid at a small tavern, and was given a room upstairs. She worked hard and long hours, but never after dark. The once-hacker had explained it as a religious necessity, and was not questioned as good labour was hard to find. But as the time neared, she found it getting difficult to plaster a fake grin on her face as she poured endless pints of ale for drunken, red-nosed men, and eventually it was hard just to get out of bed each day. The owner allowed her a fortnight off, without pay, to get over her 'illness,' and he allowed her to keep her room, on the understanding that when the new bar maid did return, she would have to be nicer to the patrons.

Now, after five days of never leaving her room, Willow was finally disgusted enough with herself to take a quick bath and go for a walk. She wandered past many Cathedrals and museums, but she no longer ventured inside in hopes of finding any useful information. She had long given up that dream. Today she walked with her head down, never meeting anyone's eyes and with no destination in mind. She just wanted to clear her mind and clear her nose of the smell of spilt beer and cheap whiskey.

She was just about to check her pocket watch again, when she heard his voice. "'ello, luv."

A cold chill whipped through her as images of his deceitful face tore at her consciousness. She turned slowly, still not ready for this confrontation after more than five decades, but it wasn't Spike.

Or was it? The man stared at her with Spike's familiar quirky half-smile and cocky self-assurance. Even the manner in which he held his body was Spike's, but so many other things were different. Willow quickly surveyed the man standing before her. He was quite tan, for an Englishman, and donned a slightly disheveled military uniform. He wore the short red coat with gold buttons well, and the color suited his golden skin, despite the fact that it looked like it had seen many a day's battle. The light-colored pants fit snugly enough to accentuate his well-toned thighs. She had to take a deep breath and force her eyes back to his face, when finally it hit her. The real difference was his brown hair. 

Willow's face must have been one of sheer bewilderment as she slowly drank in his appearance, for William took great delight in the effect he was having on her. Women of his time rarely eyed a man the way the tiny time traveler was studying him. She compelled herself to stop staring, but it was too late. A flush had already crept in to her cheeks. she berated herself, but she couldn't help it. Alive, he was devastatingly handsome.

He approached her slowly, wanting to get a better look at the girl who was so wantonly watching him. "Are you lost?" he asked, swaying slightly and betraying the fact that he was inebriated. The young woman did indeed look lost, but not as to her location. She appeared as if she had lost her best friend, and the gentleman in him wanted to help her. Unfortunately, the drunken part of him was currently in charge and could only think of one way of cheering her up.

Willow was at a complete loss for words, totally unprepared to be faced with William the Bloody, Spike's human self. "Um...uh...no," she sputtered, backing away and forcing her eyes to the pavement between them. She quickly ran through in her mind the past that Spike had told her about himself, and although from what he had said she had nothing to fear, she couldn't be sure that he had even told her the truth.

"Can I buy you a pint, then?" he leered, swaying even more as he gestured to the pub that they were standing outside of. "You look lonely and sad, and I am sure that I can think of a way to bring a smile to that pretty face of yours!" He lips widened into a full smile, his blue eyes twinkled mischievously.

Warning bells went off in her head. This all seemed a little too familiar. "No," she finally managed as she came to her senses. "I cannot go through this again!" Before Willow even knew what she was doing, she turned and ran as fast she could away from the now-confused Englishman. It wasn't long before she had to slow her pace, exhausted from straining under-used muscles. She turned to see if he was following her. He wasn't.

"That was close," she said to herself through heavy breaths. "Way too close." She walked a while longer, still in shock over seeing William. It was definite now. The time of William's changing was nearing. For a brief moment she considered going back there and trying to find a way to keep William from being turned, the way she had for Angelus, but the thought was fleeting. It would never work. Spike wouldn't allow it, and only heaven knew what it would do to the time line. Plus, to be honest, she just couldn't be bothered.

***

As Willow calmed herself down, she let herself think about Angelus's family for the first time in years. She had often wondered about what may have happened to them, but she could never bring herself to find out. She had never tried to contact them after that last day in Galway, afraid of what she may or may not find. And even if she did find them, alive and well, she wasn't prepared to answer the hundreds of questions that would inevitably follow.

The day she had fled the bustling Irish town, she had made one stop on her way out, at a jewelry store. She had hurriedly purchased four beautiful and ornately carved silver crosses on heavy chains. With a quick prayer for forgiveness to her ancestors, she had placed one over her own head and had not taken it off since. The other three she had quickly bundled up and, with a heavy heart, headed for the Connellan's farm.

Willow remembered how she had sat on her horse, just outside their acreage for what seemed like hours before she had finally found the courage to trot up the small lane that lead to their house, although in reality it had probably only been several minutes. She knocked at the door with a heavy heart, still not sure what she was going to say, but knowing that she had to warn them somehow. But, in the end, no one was home. She had even searched the property quickly, just to make sure that they weren't attending to some chores nearby, but found no one. So, she had entered the house since the Connellans, like most others of their time, didn't keep their doors locked. The petite redhead had decided that she should at least leave them a note. She wrote to them that the son they once knew had died, and that in his place was a monster bent on evil and destruction. She warned them not to be fooled by his familiar, handsome face and to never again trust him or let him in their home. Then, she thought for a moment before adding that she had come to their town to prevent this from happening, but had failed. She apologized again and again, blaming herself, but never asked their forgiveness. She closed by asking that they wear her gifts in remembrance of their lost son as well as for their own protection.

Willow sighed as she remembered staring at that letter, wondering if it was enough or if they would understand or even believe her, and wishing that she had thought to buy some sort of cross for the father, but a quick glance at the sun getting lower in the sky had forced her to push her doubts away for now. It was time to leave.

She never knew if they had worn her gifts or understood her warning. In fact, Willow never knew if Angelus had ever made his vampiric presence known to his family. She hoped, in some ways, that the young vampire had forgotten about his family in order to get to her, but she really had no way of knowing. She felt her stomach tighten as guilt once again consumed her thoughts.
***

When Willow finally quit her daydreaming, she was a long way from her tavern home and night was falling. She turned around and picked up the pace, but the setting sun was winning. She decided to take a gamble and turned to cut through Hyde Park. It would cut close to a half hour off of her race against time. She was only halfway through the park before the sun set, but she remained calm, reminding herself that the likelihood of any vampires being in this exact area at this exact moment was low.

"Hello, my little virgin." Spike's voice came from the shadows. "Now, normally I would think that I was being a little presumptuous, assuming that a beautiful woman could remain a virgin for the past 50 years, but in your case...."

Willow froze. "Spike," she said dispassionately, turning in the general direction of where she thought the voice originated from. "I'd recognize that conniving, selfish, lying voice anywhere."

Spike strolled out from the shadows of a nearby grove of trees, already flashing her his patented half smile. "You flatter me, love."

"Stay away from me," she told him pointedly when she was finally able to see his face. She noted the blonde vampire looked exactly the way he did when she had left him-- only the costume was different. Images of the tanned William she had just met flashed briefly in her mind, but she pushed them away. she lectured herself.

"It's been more than 50 years, Willow. Don't you think that's long enough to hold a grudge?"

"An eternity will not give me enough time to hate you, Spike." Willow said the words, and although she meant them, there was no conviction in her voice, and the tiny redhead knew it.

Spike looked at the woman he once shared a house with and felt the now-familiar stab of guilt. She didn't look like the Willow he had known, the Willow whom had stood up to him on more than one occasion, or who had so eagerly learned to play and even cheat at poker, all with an innocent smile and a impish glint in her eye. This woman had all the exuberance and liveliness of a corpse, if it weren't for the fact that he could hear her heart beating rapidly in her chest, he might think she was dead. The hair was the same, as were her other physical features, but everything else was different. Her eyes looked haunted and desperate, like she hadn't had a peaceful night's sleep her whole life. There was no life in them whatsoever. No spark. No humor. Her skin had lost its healthy glow, and she held herself like someone who wanted to hide from the world, even from herself. Willow was only the shell of a woman now, and she looked as if a stiff breeze could crumple her.

Spike stepped closer, not believing that this was his Willow. "Willow, you look like the walking dead, love. You need to take better care of yourself."

"Save your attempts at pretending to care for someone else. I won't buy it this time." The perpetually young redhead couldn't even bring herself to look him in the eye. Willow knew she should be yelling at him, throwing accusations and incriminations at him with every ounce of strength she possessed, but she didn't have the energy, and, frankly, she found she just didn't care anymore. About anything.

Spike took another careful step closer, afraid that she might bolt. "I do care, Red. You look like you are about two breaths away from slitting your wrists."

"Don't flatter yourself, Spike," she said, failing to muster even a hint of venom in her voice. "You are not suicide worthy. Besides, even if I did, just think of all that blood you could have guilt-free. No work involved."

Spike winced at the tone of her voice, it was completely void of any emotion. He had done this to her. He had already killed her; she was just trying to finish the job slowly. The vampire needed her to get passionate about something, anything. Even if it was hating him.

"Actually," he said, letting a boastful grin settle upon his face. "I still can't believe how easy it was... how very easy it was to fool you."

Willow didn't speak but she finally met his gaze.

"I mean, come on, *pet,*" he laughed cruelly. "You have no idea how hard it was for me to put up with you everyday. Pretending to enjoy your company. To sit there night after night trying to teach you a simple card game. But you were too bloody stupid to even learn that, why would I have thought you might figure out my little plan." The vampire waited to see her reaction. It was risky and he knew it, but it was worth the gamble. She was worth the gamble.

Willow couldn't believe what she was hearing. Sometimes she had wondered if that whole sense of camaraderie that she had begun to feel with him had been part of the ruse, if each and every smile and kind word was just another strand in his web of lies. The frail woman searched deep inside of herself for the strength that she once had, for the rage she once survived on, but could still only muster guilt and self-pity. So, she didn't speak, she just stood there, expressionless.

He pressed on. "Of course, when you and that insipid Irishman actually fell in love, well, that was just icing on the cake, *pet.* Never in my whole unlife would I have been able to come up with a better plot. It was like a damned soap opera!" he laughed harshly. 

"Why are you doing this?" Willow finally said to him. She wasn't quite yelling, but it was more emotion than she had displayed in years. "Isn't it enough to know that you outwitted me and Angelus is dead because of you?" she reminded herself. "Why do you have to rub it in?" Willow didn't realize it, but she was walking closer to him as she spoke, her voice gradually increasing in volume and intensity. "Do you want to see me cry, is that it? Did you feel that you haven't truly destroyed my faith and trust unless you see me weeping at your feet. Is that it, Spike?" The tears that she had kept inside for close to a lifetime, finally began to fall. "Well, here I am! A pathetic excuse for human being and it is all your fault. You took everything from me. My family, my friends, my home, but that wasn't enough for you, was it? Then you took my hope, my faith and my trust and destroyed it. So, here I am Spike. Look at me! The result of all your scheming and lying is standing before you. Are you happy now?"

< I couldn't be further from happy> Spike didn't speak, he just forced his mouth into a heartless sneer. He was afraid he hadn't really gotten to her yet. She will still holding too much anger inside.

Willow turned and walked away, her hand unconsciously fingering the necklace that lay hidden beneath her dress, but Spike said something that made her stop in her tracks.

"Okay, my wife!" the vampire shouted after her. "Will it make you feel better to hurt me a little?" He spread his arms out wide to the side in a sacrificial manner. "Take your best shot, sweetie, because you only get one for free."

Willow turned to face him, unsure of his sincerity, but she wasn't going to let this chance get away. She slowly stepped to within an arm's length of him, never once letting her eyes leave his. Her whole body quivered with the pent-up anger and frustration of nearly 60 years that were screaming for release. The tiny redhead pulled her hand back, and like a too tightly wound coil, it sprung toward his face.

Spike didn't even brace for the impact, knowing that this frail woman couldn't actually hurt him, but hoping that the act would help her snap out of her despondency. When her hand did connect with his cheek it sent a jolt of pain through him, the likes of which he hadn't felt in years. The combination of pain and shock sent him reeling and he fell backwards to the ground, his cheek and jaw still burning. 

Spike looked up in a daze to find Willow standing over him with a smug look on her face. She held her hand up to reveal the silver cross in her palm, it's broken chain dangling between her fingers. "You're right, Spike. I do feel better!" Willow smiled slightly, the first real smile that had crossed her lips in years, and slowly walked away.

When Spike put his hand to his cheek and jaw where he had been hit, he could feel outlined in his charred flesh, a perfect cross.
 

~Chapter Fifteen~

It took about two weeks before Willow realized what Spike was really doing that night. She had thought about their encounter every spare moment she had, replaying the whole thing over and over again. Something about it did not ring true, but the redhead had to admit to herself that ever since that night, she felt a little better.

"Ay, I do believe I saw our little Rose 'ere smile! Did ya see that too, Simon?" a rather large and balding man asked the younger man who sat on the stool next to him.

"Yes, I did. And a beautiful smile it was too!" The redheaded man chuckled.

Willow couldn't help but smile again. These two men had come in the pub every afternoon since she had worked there, always flirting with her and drinking until they could barely see straight.

"Now, maybe I can get her to give me a chance, George." He flashed Willow his most dazzling smile, or at least it may have been dazzling had he still had all his teeth.

Willow disregarded his attempt at charm, having heard it all before.

The older man shook his head. "Yer better off with out 'em. Trust me on this one, Simon. Wives are a bloody pain in the arse!"

"And how would you know?" Willow joked back, in a better mood that she had been in a long while. "You hardly ever see your wife. You are always in here talking me ear off!"

"Ya are right there, little miss, but I'll tell ya why," the larger man said, excited to bestow another one of his tidbits of married wisdom. "Take last night for instance. She was mad at me, I knew it the moment I walked in the door, but would she tell me why? No!" He shook his head for a moment before draining his pint glass. "So, just to get 'er to tell me what was wrong, I picked a fight with 'er 'bout somethin' stupid."

Willow listened patiently and poured him another pint of the warm ale. She had heard plenty of his stories before, and countless other men's, as they moaned about their lives.

"So," he went on. "I told 'er that if she didn't 'ave my dinner on the table the moment I walked in the door from that night on, then not to even bloody bother, the silly old cow."

"You said that? To your wife?" Willow furrowed her brow, not seeing how that would have helped.

"Yea, I had to, remember? I knew somethin' was botherin' 'er and she wasn't bloody likely to just tell me. So, I made 'er mad!"

"Did it work?" the younger man asked, hanging on the more experienced man's every word.

"Like a charm! In no time at all she was layin' into me about never taking 'er anywhere. So, I took 'er out for a meal, and everythin' is back to normal." He stopped and took a deep breath for dramatic effect. "Women are like watches, Simon. Sometimes ya really gotta get 'em wound up, before they'll give ya the time of day!"

Willow suppressed another smile. She couldn't help but remember a similar conversation, albeit only a joke, that she had with Spike years ago about him never taking her out anymore, when it hit her. She almost dropped the glass she was holding and had to lean against the bar for a moment. 

"Ya all right, luvie?" George asked when he noticed her stunned look.

Willow looked up. "Um, yea, I'm fine. It's just that...." She never finished her sentence, instead the perpetually young woman ran to the back room. "I'm leavin' a little bit early!" she yelled at the owner and ran out the door and into the diffused rays of the setting sun.

***

Spike sat on a bench in the middle of the park, like he had every night for the past two weeks. The blonde vampire hoped to see Willow again, just to see if she was okay and if anything he had said had made a difference.

Spike always knew that she would be hurt and angry after he let Darla have Angelus. He simply figured that she would just pout for a while, maybe a decade at the most, but in time Willow would see it his way and forgive him. The problem was he had never counted on the whole encounter with Darla and Angelus, let alone any bloodletting being involved. Spike had planned to get her out of town as soon as possible so that she wouldn't have to see the vampire Angelus. But, because of a simple miscalculation on his part, Willow had sobered up and gotten away from him.

"I saved her bloody neck from that animal," Spike yelled to the nearby shrubbery. "And do I even get a simple word of thanks? Not bloody likely...." He continued his rant, now pacing amongst the trees. "A demon tries to be nice and what does he get? Another bloody scar for the trouble!" he drew a long cool finger across the fading scar on the side of his face. he noted distractedly about the cross-shaped welt on his skin.

Spike shook his head in dismay before sitting back down, pale face in his hands. He remembered very well the day all his plans went up in smoke, and the looks on her face both when he had lowered his head to feed from her and as she left him trapped by the sun's rays in their home. They haunted his dreams, and the fact that it mattered enough to him to sneak into his sleeping hours, haunted his waking ones.

The moment the sun had set that day fateful day decades ago, he was on his horse and racing for the nearest ferry, trying to catch up with her before she disappeared in Britain completely. When his horse tired, he traded, bought, or stole a new one, never wasting a single moment of darkness. Unfortunately, he still had to hide during the day, and as a result, Willow was long gone by the time his feet touched down in England. The vampire rode straight for London on the hunch that Willow would first try to locate a Watcher, and he spent years there looking for her and asking about her, but never found a clue as to her whereabouts. After having no luck with his search for the fiery redhead, Spike decided he should just do what she had said and follow the timeline. He eventually returned to Ireland and caught up with Angelus and Darla in Dublin.

Once Spike knew that the other vampires were in Dublin just as they should be, at least according to the countless stories he had often endured of Darla and Angelus's early years, he left and only returned every once in awhile to make sure that things were still proceeding as planned. He was always very careful that they didn't notice him and that he didn't attract any attention when he was in town. Then, during the times he wasn't checking on the other vampires, which required him traveling all over the British Isles, Spike continued his search for Willow, but never found even a hint as to her location. The blonde vampire eventually returned to his old stomping grounds, London, a few months before William the Bloody was due to be sired by Angelus. Everything seemed to be paralleling the past so far, which meant the only problem was Willow.

He had only recently thought that perhaps she was now in London, after a few discreet questions here and there had turned up some possibly favorable results. Spike had been spending most of his nighttime hours walking the streets and parks looking for her, hoping that sooner or later it would pay off, but it was only a lucky coincidence that he had run into her in the park that night. Up to this point, Spike had always presumed, incorrectly, that his Willow hadn't changed much with time, and that she would be working in a ladies shop somewhere or maybe teaching. Therefore he had never looked for her in pubs or smoky taverns. She was above such things. His greatest fear, he had thought at the time, was that she would meet a man and fall in love. If that were to happen, she would be content to live in the past and maybe Spike would never see her again, and therefore he would be stuck here too. Then, there was also the little matter of her virginity.... ***

Spike clenched his jaw when he realized now that he couldn't have been more wrong, and her settling down here didn't seem like the worse thing that could happen after all. At least then she would be truly alive and happy.

Suddenly, the vampire's attention was catapulted back to the present by the sound of someone running toward him. He could tell it was Willow long before she was able to see him. "Willow! What's wrong? Somebody after you?" he demanded as he rushed to offer his protection.

Willow simply shook her head, taking a moment to catch her breath. She took the opportunity to search his face, seeking answers in his penetrating blue eyes.

Spike immediately wiped the concerned look off of his face, hoping she didn't notice. "Why are you here then, and where's the bloody fire? You scared me half to life running in here like that!" he huffed at her.

Willow ignored his quirky attempt at humor, but his obvious display of concern for her only created more questions. She wanted the truth and she wanted it now. "Why did you say those horrible things to me before?"

Spike was caught off guard. He was relieved to see that she seemed more vibrant today, but wasn't expecting her to figure out his little ploy, at least not so soon. The blonde demon set a smirk on his face and replied coldly. "Obviously because I meant them, you ninny."

Willow refused to give up that easily. By now she had caught her breath and was standing up straight, looking him square in the face. "If you meant them, and if spending time with me was so painful to you, then why would you care if someone was chasing me through the park? Jack the Ripper could be my roommate and it shouldn't bother you!" she exclaimed pointedly.

He rolled his eyes. "Because, no matter how little I feel about you, I still need you alive and intact!"

Willow chewed on her lip for a moment, a habit she had never been able to break. "No! I don't believe you," she said firmly to Spike's back as he walked away from her.

He stopped and leaned his head against a nearby tree for a moment. Spike was frustrated and was trying to decide the best way to proceed. The handsome vampire was relieved to see that some of the old Willow was back, and that there was a little color in her cheeks and some fire in her words. Not much, but it was a start. Finally, he decided to change his approach a bit. He turned around and stared at her for a moment, trying to decide if she could handle the truth. Satisfied that she would probably never drop the subject unless he was honest, he continued. "Because, you need to find something to live for, and if that means hating me with every bloody beat of your heart and every breath that you take, then fine. I can handle your loathing of me. In fact, I welcome it!"

She shook her head slowly, still trying to understand what was going on. "Spike, I already hate you. Don't you think that was a little overkill?" she asked sarcastically.

The blonde vampire laughed, not coldly or cruelly, but a real laugh that Willow thought she remembered. "Overkill is an oxymoron to vampires, Red." Then, his face darkened again. "I will not watch you kill yourself with apathy and neglect, Willow." He walked back toward her, hands in his coat pockets. "We have too long to go yet for you to give up on life already. The fate of the world is *not* on your shoulders. Quit bearing a burden that was never yours. So, hate me, despise me with every ounce of tasty blood that is in your body, but do not blame what happened on yourself. "

Willow shook her head again and backed away. She was not ready to give up her blame and guilt, it was a part of her now. < It is not that easy, Spike!> "No, I trusted you. I trusted a soulless killer and that makes *me* the fool to blame for Angelus's death, and as a result for every death he ever causes."

Spike fought the urge to grab her and shake her. "When are you going to face the truth? You can't fix the whole damn world! Everything that happened had already happened before, without you. You didn't make Darla a vampire, you didn't bring her to town, and you didn't drive Angelus into her arms. It all would have happened whether you were here or not. I just let time take its natural course."

"Spike," she said coolly. "That's a little simplistic, even for you!"

"It's the truth. Think about it, Willow. Your only mistake was trusting me. There are worse mistakes you could have made."

The once-hacker stared down at her feet. Some of the things the vampire had said made sense, and most of them she had tried to tell herself several times in the past, but she just couldn't see an end to this. She couldn't see an end to the guilt. Willow looked at him one last time before turning and walking away. She needed more time to think, all this had done was confuse her more.

It wasn't long before she noticed that he was following her. "Leave me alone," Willow said firmly without turning around.

"I am just going to make sure you get home in one piece," Spike said reassuringly to her back.

She stopped and spun around to face him. "Spike! I have taken care of myself for 57 years, just like I told you I could. In all that time, I have never been attacked by a vampire, raped, mugged, or even looked at cross-eyed by an angry dog, so I don't need your help!"

Spike pursed his lips but didn't budge. "Angelus will be in town anytime now, love. You need to be extra careful."

Willow paled visibly and for a moment he was afraid she was going to faint, but she steadied herself. She knew Angelus would be here soon, but she had just tried not to think about it. "Thanks for the info, Spike." She turned and headed for home. He still followed her, but the confused woman didn't argue the point. Willow didn't turn around until she entered the tavern, and by then he was gone.

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