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Title: What Ends Begins (Sequel to Solving Insecurities)

Author: Jesmin

Email: notsil314@juno.com

website: www.geocities.com/notsil314/wanderings.html

Rating: R

Content: *** violence, memories of major character death, and spoilers if you never saw the Highlander movie***

Summary: Graham decides to face Willow.

Category: Crossover with Highlander and Roswell (Willow/Graham)

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, WB, Fox, and Mutant Enemy own Buffy and co. while the Highlander gang is owned by Davis/Panzer and Rysher Entertainment. There is also a small Roswell snippet in here, but I can't remember who owns them. I just know they are on the WB. Sorry.

Feedback: Yes Please!!!!

Author's Notes: There is a small summary at the end for non-Roswell watchers, even though they don't tie into the plot oo much.

Dedication: This series is dedicated to my feedback friend, Jessica, who keeps me laughing with her wonderful messages. I would also like to dedicate part of this to Ped, who let me use part of her story, Home Again, which is eluded to in this piece. And, to finish with, I would like to dedicate a section of this to Malea. She will know the part when she sees it! :o)

Spike ran into the mansion, a bag in one hand and his other hand holding his duster over his head. Buffy, sitting, on the couch, turned towards him. Smiling as he shut the door from the sun’s rays, she commented, "You’re late. We thought you might be dust."

Sitting the bag down on the couch, he dug through it and pulled out a container of blood. "Thanks for lying. Here, I got you and Angel something to eat. That’s why I was late."

Buffy took the blood and then turned to look to the side. Spike, following her gaze to where Graham was fighting another man with wooden sticks. Looking back at him, Buffy commented, "They’ve been at it for almost two hours."

"At what?"

"Training."

Spike sat down beside her on the couch that had been moved earlier for the training. "You miss it don’t you."

Not looking at him, staring at the other men in front of her, she answered, "Yes."

"I’m sorry."

"Why?"

Spike studied his hands and sighed. "I took that away from you. They took that bloody chip out and all I could think about was destroying you. Then, when I had you in my hands, I couldn’t, so I turned you. But you know what, I did destroy you. I took away all that you loved, and for that, I am truly sorry."

Buffy, still not looking at him, took his hand in hers and sighed. He was right. Spike had taken most of her friends away from her, including Giles - her watcher, her trainer. The strange thing though, was that she didn’t hate him. She wasn’t even mad at him. For some reason, all she wanted at the moment was to be beside him. Not saying a word, she laid her head on his shoulder as she watched the scene in front of her.

Duncan smiled at his young opponent as they circled around each other. He moved his stick to over his head as Graham kept his in front of him, staring intently not only of the sword in MacLeod’s hands, but also of every movement, however minute. Good. Graham was trying to surmise what Duncan was going to do next. In flash, Duncan faked to one side and then lunged at the other. Graham, had noticed the slight shuffle of weight in MacLeod’s legs and was able to block the blow easily. As Graham chuckled, Duncan commented, "Don’t get to cocky. It is an easy way to loose your head." Once again Duncan attacked.

As Graham went to block, he asked, "And by doing that, I will truly die, right?"

From the side, Adam (Methos) answered, "Not exactly. Even though in a sense you will finally meet death, your power - your essence - will be absorbed by your opponent. So, in a way, part of you will live on. And then, when that immortal is struck down by another, their power and all the other power inside of them, including yours, will be transferred again."

Duncan swung in again, going for Graham’s neck. Graham blocked it as MacLeod reached him, only standing a stride away. MacLeod pushed down harder, but Graham was finally able to push the wooden stick away. He raised an eyebrow at Duncan, "That was close."

"Too close," remarked MacLeod. "If I were Methos, you would have already been dead."

Looking quickly at Methos and then back at MacLeod, Graham asked, "Why? Is he stronger?"

MacLeod laughed. "No, just more devious."

Methos commented from the side, "Thanks for the compliment, Mac."

Graham wiped the sweat away from his forehead. "What is that suppose to mean?"

"Methos would have done that one handed, and while you were concentrating on saving your neck, he would be fishing out a dagger from inside his coat."

Looking over with shock on his face, Graham asked, "But that is cheating, isn’t it?"

Shaking his head, Methos replied, "Some may think so, but it isn’t actually one of our two large rules. It is just more of a respect issue, just like killing another immortal when they are weak from the quickening."

"Rules? Weak from the quickening?"

Duncan answered the first, "We have two rules that are suppose to be followed by all immortals. The first and foremost is not to kill on Holy ground. Second, is not to interrupt a fight by joining in. Once a fight has been initiated, it is to be left alone."

"Alright. So, what about that quickening thing?"

Methos stood up where he had been sitting. "After you have taken another immortals head and taken their power through the quickening, then your body is tired. The quickening is a very fatiguing experience. It leaves one drained and takes a few minutes, sometimes longer, to gain your strength. If another immortal was to attack at this time, you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself."

"But this isn’t one of the main rules?"

Methos shook his head. "No. Like I said, it is just a matter of respect. However, don’t forget this - sometimes being disrespectful can save your life."

From the couch, Spike added to the conversation. "Remember, soldier boy, there are some out there that think ‘to hell with respect,’ and as soon as you let your guard down, they will bloody be there."

Graham raised and eyebrow. "Straight from the horses mouth, right grandfather."

"That’s right, sonny boy, and don’t forget it."

Turning, Graham looked over at MacLeod, who just nodded in his direction. Looking back to Spike, he remarked, "I won’t forget." Handing his practice stick to Methos, he headed out of the room, commenting as he started to disappear, "I need to go think."

**

Later on, Graham looked up from where he was sitting on the floor against the wall as he felt the two immortals approaching the room he had been resting in. Right as a knock started at the door, he called out, "Come in."

Methos smiled down at him. "It is almost dusk."

Nodding, Graham remarked, "Are you sure there is no other way to do this?"

Methos grew serious. "Angel, Wesley, Cordelia and I looked through the prophecies earlier. We couldn’t find any other way out of this."

Beside him, MacLeod agreed, "Trust us. The last thing we want you to do is go out there and kill someone you love, but it is the only way, no matter what we want."

From the doorway, Angel mentioned behind them, "Don’t forget that the soul leaves the body once the demon takes over. Whatever, whoever, you think she is, she is not Willow."

Graham shook his head. "I keep telling myself that, but it doesn’t help."

For a few seconds they just all stood there. Then, the silence was broken as MacLeod placed a sword in front of him. "Here. This is for you."

"No. I can’t take your katanna."

MacLeod let himself smile a little. "This isn’t mine. It belonged to my teacher and fellow clansman, Connor MacLeod. I am sure that he would be proud that it is going to such an important student of mine."

Graham got up and took the sword from him. It felt so natural in his hands. Backing up, he waved it around a little, getting a feeling for the new sword.

Methos now stepped forward. "You need a coat to hide that in." Holding out his own coat he added, "Plus, it is a little chilly outside."

Leaning the sword against the wall, Graham took the coat and put it on. It was a long dark coat, and even though Methos appeared smaller, it seemed to fit just right. Collecting the sword, he placed it in the sheath built into the inside of the coat. Smiling at the three, he asked, "Do I look like an immortal?" As they nodded, he added, "Great, then I guess I’m ready to confront Willow."

As he started to step out the door, Angel grabbed his arm. "Remember, she will try to get to you by mentioning your love for Willow. Don’t give in to it. She isn’t Willow."

Graham sighed. "Angel, could you kill Willow?" Angel just stared at him, knowing that he couldn’t. "That is what I thought." With that, Graham turned and stepped out of the room, not saying anything else as he left to meet up with Willow.

*****

Willow looked up from where she was sitting in the candle light to see him. Just in that slight moment, she knew that he knew. His eyes looked heavy with burden and weariness. They reflected the truth that he was starting to grasp about her. It was also evident that he had learned about his own immortality. He was wearing a long dark coat and his hand hovered where she knew a sword was usually hidden. There was no need to hide the truth from the man before her. Smiling, she remarked, "I guess there isn’t reason to discuss your heart beating?"

Graham shook his head. "No. This isn’t the time for your head games."

Standing up, she walked to him and laid her hand on his chest. Looking up at him, she smiled. "It is so powerful, just like you. There is no need to cast anyone aside, especially you. Your power is great, and if you want, you can stay here by my side. That is what you want, isn’t it?"

"Why? So you can live off my abilities? Why me?"

Raking her finger along his jaw line, she broke the skin. After licking a small, soft trail of blood, she remarked, "Because even without meeting you, I knew your potential."

"But there are other immortals..."

Her hand drew lazy circles on his chest for a while. "Yes, but I picked you because of Willow. She had feelings for you, but you came at a wrong time. Wolf boy hurt poor Willow. Her heart wasn’t ready for another let down." Leaning against him, she went on, "Tara was what she needed at the time, but we both know the pull between you. You knew that when she kissed you that day on the bench. The pull between you is strong, and now you have your chance to give into that pull."

"But you’re not Willow. The Willow I know is gone. She embodied innocence and love. Her spirit may have been weak at times, but her heart was larger than your’s could ever be. I could tell that just by looking at her, and when I look at you, all I see now is..."

"Ah, but isn’t this Willow’s body?" asked Willow as she motioned towards her lean figure, dressed in a tight black gown. "Look into my eyes. Remember the first time you did that? When you met her out at night, all alone? Aren’t these the same eyes? Take a chance. Be with me. You already started the path by agreeing to help get Spike’s chip out so we could be with each other forever. You knew then what that implied, that it wouldn’t be the same. Yet, you gave in to your dark cravings. Do it again. It can be close, oh so sweetly close. We were meant to be together, forever..."

She started to rain kisses up his neck, to his mouth. For a minute, Graham tried to hold back, but the sensations were to much. He took her lips with his, plunging his tongue into her mouth, and then it ripped through his mind, everything that would be. Graham threw her away, pushing her back. "You are not her and never will be!"

Graham pulled out the sword given to him by MacLeod. Looking at him, Willow raised one eyebrow and then motioned with her hand. As she laughed, the sword flew out of his hands. In one quick stride, she advanced onto him and then pushed him against the wall. "You have no idea who you are messing with, child!"

"Then tell me. Don’t I have the right to know who not only killed Willow, but also killed me?

She smiled. "I never killed Willow. She is still here in me. That is how I knew about you. See, my hold on her is so much, that even when Spike killed her, I was able to keep a hold of her soul as we waited for the demon. Yes. Willow’s here. She is watching this whole scene take place. I can hear her begging, crying for you in my mind. It is like sweet honey – her fear, sadness, and anger. All those emotions to grow on, to help hold onto her even more."

Graham shook his head, "Oh, God, Willow."

Her voice changed slightly, to a deeper level, "I’m not Willow! I was called Moradeema, a priestess of he who is dark, he who is so old that his name has been forgotten. The ancient ones are coming back, and I am part of the group that will make the way for he who will keep the blood flowing, long after humanity has been wasted away. The days of the pure demons are upon us, and we will reign again!"

As Graham started to shake his head, she continued, grabbing his chin and talking to him like a child. "Don’t threat my little one. I can keep you safe, and beside me you can become powerful, truly immortal." Standing on her tip toes, she rubbed her body against his and then whispered in his ear. "I’ll still give you a chance."

She never noticed the small movement his hand made. In a side gesture, he grabbed a stake from with in his pocket and rammed it in her back towards her heart. Screaming out, she yelled, "No! Not fair!" He expected her to turn to dust that minute, but instead, something else happened all together.

Willow backed up and looked at him. One blood red tear fell down her cheek. Her hand reached to him, brushing his cheek with her palm. "Thank you." And then, she disappeared in front of him.

*****

Flashes of images raced before her, each bearing a memory that she didn’t want. First, she was sitting on the floor. Before her were the candles she set up, and around her, the voice taunted, calling to her to make a decision she wasn’t ready for. Then, as she yelled out, Tara was in front of her, chained to the wall. Her clothes had been ripped, showing a battered and bruised body. Eyes pleaded with Willow as Willow watched Tara’s breathing falter, just about the same time she felt Spike’s fangs in her neck. Spike’s fangs! Oh, goddess, Buffy. There she was, a look of defeat on her face as Spike drained the life out of her. Willow turned. There was blood everywhere. Xander’s body called to her from the floor, his neck at an unnatural angle. Anya was screaming over by the table, as a vampire stole her stake from her and rammed it into her own ex-demon heart. Willow’s vision flashed to Giles, a crow bar sticking out of his head as he fell to the floor, his skull crushed in. But that wasn’t all. Riley’s face loomed before her as she bit into his neck. Horror had settled there, horror that Willow was the one who was taking his life. The last vision then rocked through her. Graham was there, despair on his face. She had just experienced this. Once again she muttered, "Thank you."

There was darkness everywhere when she opened her eyes. Willow first felt around and then yelled out as she found nothing, "Hello?" A light came on. It surrounded her, but she could not find its source.

All of a sudden, voices seemed to ring around her. "She made the wrong decision!"

"Her mind was played by evil hands."

"They used her as a puppet, it wasn’t of her will."

"Yes. We owe her soul!"

"But she came up with her answer."

"She wasn’t of the right mind. When one is weak, one is open more to the dark side."

"She had to turn for him to see the way."

"He won’t work without her!"

"They are soul mates, not meant to be apart during the trying times ahead."

"He will learn - adapt without her."

All of a sudden the voices stopped and a short man dressed in tweed, wearing little, round, black rimmed glasses stepped up. Looking at her, he tilted his head, "We have made a little place for you." Straightening his head, he added, "That which was not written will now be. Now what ends begins!" Holding his hand out, a slice of cheese appeared. "Cheese?"

*****

Graham stared at his hands. Just a few months ago, they had killed Willow. God, Willow. Closing his eyes, he could still picture her perfectly – her bright smile, shining green eyes, red hair, and her small body. She would smile at him, and sometimes, with his eyes closed, he would relive the time that they kissed. He sighed as he thought of the feelings her lips on his had caused. Then, it ended as he remembered what he had done to her. She was just a small pile of dust now. It was all his fault, and now all he could think of was that one blood red tear and her final words, "Thank you."

"Can I get you anything?"

"What?" Graham looked up at the waitress in front of him. She had long dark hair with eyes to match. Her outfit was a light green/blue, and around her slim waist was a waitress apron that looked like an alien. On top of her head were antennas – two balls of glitter connected by wires on a headband. The balls waved a little as she moved her head. "You’re not from around here, are you? I know that I don’t recognize you."

"Nope. I’m from all over."

The waitress sat her tray on the table and held out her hand. "Liz Parker."

Shaking it, he answered, "Graham Miller."

"So what brings you to Roswell?"

"I’m just trying to find myself."

Liz nodded. "You’ve picked a good place. There isn’t much here, except a little bit of tourism traps and desert."

"No little green men?"

Smiling at him, she remarked, "Now, all towns have their secrets, but as for aliens that are small and green, I haven’t seen any."

Graham looked off in the distance, thinking of Sunnydale. "You’re right about that one."

Looking at him, studying, she stood and wondered about what he had meant. Shaking herself out of thought, she asked, "So, have you been by the museum?"

"Yep. I went by there the other day. It was quite interesting compared to the files I’ve seen on the Roswell crash."

"Files? Are you government?"

Graham took in a deep breath. "I was part of the government - top secret type stuff."

"And they let you out?"

Not looking at her, Graham answered, "Missing in action."

Liz studied him for a few minutes, both of them not saying a word. Finally, she broke the silence by asking, "So, why are you finding yourself?"

He looked up to her, his eyes already answering her question. "I lost someone close. It was one of those things where no matter what we wanted, we had to let go for out future."

Staring at him, she said quietly and slowly, "Kind of like the fate of the world rests on the outcome of your relationship, and no matter what, this fate is against you, and then you look at that person, and you realize you can’t be with them but they are the only person on this world for you, and it hurts so much that you want to give in and take that person back into your arms and forget everything that you know..."

Graham nodded. "Exactly, but in my case, there is no taking her back into my arms."

"Why not?"

Staring ahead, he answered, "She’s dead."

Liz covered her mouth. "I’m sorry."

Shaking his head, he remarked, "Don’t be. You didn’t know."

Picking up her tray, she asked, "So, would you like anything?"

"How about a coffee?"

"Sure. I’ll be back in a minute." As she turned, she ran into a man. "Oh, I’m sorry."

He shook his head. "No problem if you bring me back a coffee also."

As she nodded and took off, Methos looked down. "You’re a hard man to find."

"I told Duncan where I was going when I left him a week ago."

"Yes, but Duncan is also hard to find. Luckily, Joe was able to find out a few things using his watcher contacts."

"So, why are you looking for me?" asked Graham as he took his coffee from Liz.

"Thank you," remarked Methos as she placed his in front of him. Turning back to Graham, he answered, "Actually, Angel experienced a miracle."

"What?"

Pointing to the window, Methos answered, "He found her and sent her to me."

Turning around, Graham looked out the window to see a face staring at him. A familiar red head had her nosed pressed against the glass, looking at him with a questioning expression. Turning back to Methos, he asked "How?" as he started to get up.

Methos answered, "We don’t know," as Graham was already heading to the door.

Reaching the door, Graham stepped out and looked at the red head before him. How could this be? Willow was dead. He saw it with his own eyes. His own hands were the instrument of her death. Now she was looking at him, fear in her eyes that he might not accept her for what she had done or maybe would think it was a trick. "How?"

Willow shook her head, "I don’t understand it myself. I remember feeling grief and then relief as you freed me. Then, there was a judgement, something about you not being able to serve your purpose and the man with the cheese..."

"The man with the cheese?"

"Oh, Graham, how can you ever forgive me?"

"Forgive? I killed you?"

"You helped me. I’m the one with blood on my hands."

Graham shook his head and wiped her tears away, and then in one swift motion took her in his arms. Digging his face into her hair, he took in the smell of her. It was the smell that he would think of at night, imagining it at his side. Pressing her body against his, he savored the feel of it. It was everything he had hoped for. Everything he had dreamed of for the last few months was coming true.

Inside the small café, Methos looked to his side as the waitress walked up to him, glancing at the scene happening just outside the window. "Who is that?" she asked.

"That would be his true love."

"I thought she was dead." The statement seemed more like a question out of the young woman’s mouth.

Methos nodded, still watching the scene in front of them. "We all did."

Smiling, thinking of her own touch with death, she commented, a sad note to her voice, "Someone must want them to be together to bring her back."

Raising an eyebrow, he remarked, "Yes, someone indeed. However, the question might not be who, but why."

Liz looked up at him, pondering his remark. She didn’t even know these people, but something told her that their lives were just as complicated and important as that of her and her friends. Turning back to the couple, she smiled, seeing that happy endings did take place once in a while. Would she be as lucky as they?

THE END

For all of you that don’t watch Roswell, here is a very quick summary: Liz was shot while working the café, and Max saved her by healing her. It was then that she learned his secret. Max, his sister, and a friend of his are alien hybrids, and before long, Liz became part of their group, along with a few others. Max and her were together, but then a fourth hybrid showed up, and it was at this time that they realized this fourth was destined to be with Max. They fought against it, and then one day, a Max from the future showed up. He had married his Liz, but because they were together, the fourth hybrid had left. With her gone, their powers weren’t in full force, so the world was falling apart. He had come back to have this Liz stop the relationship between them. To do this, Liz made it look like she had been with someone, because it was more important to save the world than be happy with Max.