Title: Life and Times (1a/1b)
Author: Reatha
Email: spikes_witch@WitchesBrew.zzn.com
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Up until the end of season 3 (if you haven’t seen season 4, don’t
worry...my version is different...and doesn’t really focus on season 4)
Summary: The gang reads a letter, and discovers something very important about
Willow.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, and I never claimed I did.
Distribution: If you have my stuff, it’s yours, otherwise ask.
Notes: This just popped into my head, while watching a commercial for ‘White
Christmas’ - don’t ask how I went from a Christmas classic to this...my mind
makes weird connections.
Also, this may help:
The fourth season hasn't happened...in my own verrsion of the fourth season, Willow has changed, and her friends don't like it. Spike came back to help, but they're all hostile to him. And Willow and Spike have a sort of relationship, which the gang can't quite understand, and continually rant and rave at Willow for.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 1a

Hello. My name is Willow Rosenberg, and I’m 107 years old.

Now, I know this many sound absurd and crazy, but it’s the truth. I lived the first
18 years of my life as the Willow Rosenberg you all know, but I lived the next 89
as an entirely different person.

Well, I guess I should start at the beginning. The summer after graduation is what
changed my life. It was the beginning of the summer, and I was alone for the
weekend. Oz had gone off for a gig in LA; Buffy was visiting her father; Giles had
a _guest_ (though I won’t elaborate); and Xander had left for his much talked
about cross-country road trip. So I decided to brush up on my magic.

I needed a place to center myself, so I chose the newly renovated crypt where Oz
would reside from then on, when he changed. I spread my supplies out around me,
preparing for the simple incantation I was about to perform.

(Now Giles, I know you’re already preparing a lengthy lecture in your head for
me, about the dangers of magic, but just stuff it! If you’ll read on further, you’ll
understand.)

As I was saying, I had prepared for the spell, and was all ready. I cast the circle,
invoked the Goddess and God, and began the incantation. The only thing I can
think of, was that I mispronounced a word or two - it doesn’t really matter
anymore. But, as I spoke the words aloud, I felt an enormous rush of power flow
through me, and a bright green portal opened up in front of me. Before I could do
more than gasp, it had enveloped me.

Some time later - though I’m not sure how much later - I woke up in the crypt. I
soon realized that something was terribly wrong. As I walked around town, I
noticed lots of empty lots and even more empty streets. The Sunnydale I had
grown up in had vanished, replaced by old cars and even older houses.

Ironically as it may seem, I didn’t realize what had happened until I picked up a
newspaper form the ground. It was dated July 6, 1920.

I had inadvertently transported myself back in time.

Now, the horror for me wasn’t being that far back in time. No, I was terrified with
the realization that I had no money, no food, and no way to get either of them.

Sunnydale was small, no more than 30 families, and I was new. I was also young,
female and unattached - some of the people even commented on my looks,
especially my hair - but what it all added up to, was that there was only one type
of job in the town that I could possibly get. So I did the only thing I could think of
- I hopped the first train out of Sunnydale, and ended up in LA.

LA didn’t have many more choices than Sunnydale, but there is the distinction.
_Choices._

So I scraped around for a few days, until I happened upon Lady Luck herself.

Her name was Lydia, and she owned a club in the downtown district of LA.
Prohibition had barely started, but already her business was booming. She was a
smart lady, and wanted to be prepared, so she hired me as a waitress. It wasn’t the
best job, but it paid for food and clothes. Rent wasn’t a problem, as the building
the club was in doubled as a boarding house for young girls. To some people it
probably seemed like a bordello, but it wasn’t. Lydia had strict rules against that
sort of thing. All it did was give her girls a place to stay, while giving a cover for
the club below.

Well, the club had some great singers in it, but each of the girls didn’t last that
long, as being on stage attracted the attention of people. Important people. Well,
one way or another, you were almost guaranteed a short stage career in Lydia’s
club.

Lydia was always fair, so she didn’t hire new girls to take a place on the stage and
sing. No, that went by seniority among the waitresses.

And finally it was my turn.

One of the secrets I’ve never shared with any of you, is my love of singing. When
I’m happy or relaxed, I’ll belt out a well known tune, or just make one up. Which
ever it is, I sing out loud and with feeling. Which is exactly what I did on stage
that first night.

I must say, I enjoyed singing on stage. I may not have had the best voice in the
world, but I loved it. And so did the audience. I would get flowers and proposals
and propositions galore each night, and I had never felt that spark inside you that
made your eyes light up and your heart skip a beat. I thought I had felt it with Oz,
but I found that I barely missed him. What I did miss, was someone to talk to.
Really talk to, and cuddle with and hold. I found I missed having a boyfriend, and
not Oz.

But one night, my whole world changed. It was deep into the Prohibition era, and
whiskey running and gangsters were just another part of life in a major city. Well,
these mobsters loved to frequent Lydia’s club, for the main reason that the girls
weren’t throwing themselves at them, trying to get picked up for a night.

That night, some ‘businessmen’ from New York came into the club, interested in
forming an alliance to transport goods to and from LA and New York. It was a big
deal for organized crime, as they would now become national.

Anyways, as I walked onto the stage, I caught a glimpse of a tall, black haired
stranger in the club. Our eyes met across the dark and smoky room, and I was
captivated. It wasn’t until I drew my eyes away from his that I truly looked at his
face.

That alone brought my world to a crashing halt, as I realized who he was.

Spike. The vampire who had tried to kill me several times, and yet - he hadn’t
done any of those things yet. And his hair - it was BLACK. Not the bleach blonde
I knew, but black as night and devilishly handsome.


Part 1b

As I pulled my shattered world slowly back together and walked up to the
microphone, I couldn’t help but curse myself as royally stupid. I finally felt that
spark of recognition within myself, that this was the man I could easily love, and
he was a soulless killer with an insane girlfriend. Kicking myself for being seven
kinds of a fool, I reluctantly began to sing.

Once my night was over, I rushed back to my dressing room and hid, trying to
calm myself. I had been conscious of his eyes on me all night, and I felt exposed.

No sooner had I calmed myself down, than a short knock sounded on the door,
and in walked Spike in all his salty goodness.

I don’t know if any of you will ever be able to understand this, but seeing him in a
dark tailored suit matching his dark hair, hat and overcoat in hand, stopped me
cold. But his overwhelming arrogance sent me over the edge. This man - this
vampire - was making me feel something I didn’t want to feel for him. And his
introduction didn’t help in the least. ‘The name’s Spike.’ he told me, as if that
explained everything and I should swoon at his feet.

Well, I had taken a lot of crap from the men at the club, but I didn’t let this slip
by. I started ranting and raving about who-knows what, not even realizing he was
moving until he was kissing me. I drowned in that kiss. At least, until he pulled
away, turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

He had left me. The most amazing, passionate, toe-curling kiss of my entire
existence - and he LEAVES!!!

After that night, it was a battle Royale between us. We would yell and scream at
each other, but somehow it would always end up the same - in each other’s arms.

And so when he had to go back to New York, he asked me to go with him, and
heaven help me I agreed. I was already completely in love with him, and found
that I couldn’t bear the thought of living without him.

Once we were back in New York, there was no stopping the physical side of our
relationship. That night is another and more personal story, but needless to say,
both our secrets came out. Mine - about being from the future, and his - about
being a vampire.

It was during one of these nights that mark another important step in my life. I got
a little excited, and bit him. What was worse, was that I took in a great deal of his
blood. It was as if I were possessed or something, and I couldn’t stop. Later on, as
the years passed, we discovered that drinking Spike’s blood had somehow made
me immortal (again, it’s another story for another time). The fact that I’m writing
this letter at all, and in the body of a 22 year old, should confirm that.

Anyways, our life had always been full of excitement. When I first met him, Spike
was one of Charlie ‘Lucky’ Luciano’s closest bodyguards. I sang in one of the
main clubs, and passed on any information I got from the other girls working
there. We were quite a team.

Until the night we were both ‘killed’. A war had been brewing between the major
organized crime outfit (the Corporation) and a small, rival group who thought they
could take on the Corporation. Spike and I were the first and last casualties in that
war, as out ‘deaths’ spurned the Corporation into action. The rival group was
wiped out in a matter of days.

So we moved on. Sometimes together, sometimes separate. I had a chance to do
all sorts of things, see all sorts of stuff. And I did. I saw the first man take his first
step on the moon. I was in the crowd, waving to JFK when he was shot (and yes,
there most definitely was a second gunman). I even got Elvis to sign a few things
(tracked him down a few days before he hit it big).

Now, I know you all think I should have told people about some of the terrible
things that were going to happen, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to run the risk of
irrevocably ruining the future, or changing it to where I wasn’t even born. So I
held my peace.

Except where Spike was concerned. I feel that I was meant to come back in time,
because if I hadn’t, most of the last 2 years in your lives wouldn’t have happened.
Ii may not have even gotten involved in magic, and the me - the now-me - wouldn’t be here. You see, Spike and Drusilla (yes, we were like the 3 musketeers) never wanted to live in Prague - in fact, they hated most of Europe. But I convinced them to live there.

It hurt to see my love and my friend hurt, but I had no choice. So I let Drusilla, my
sister, be hurt, almost killed. Spike and I had a giant fight, and he didn’t speak to
me until angelus came back. He still hasn’t totally forgiven me, but that pride on
both our counts.

There’s not really much else to say. Spike will always be my heart’s one true love,
and Dru is the sister to my heart.

Just so you don’t wonder endlessly about it, I sent Spike back last year, just on a
lark. He regaled me with his side of the story, which no one really told me before.
I must say, I laughed so hard at the entire fiasco that I was crying by the end. Just
picturing Angel’s face as he saw his bleached childe making faces and
pantomiming behind Joyce’s back is still enough to send me into gales of laughter.

For your information, Dru did leave us, though it doesn’t bother either of us. Her
current demon lover takes good care of her, and that’s enough for both of us.

Thus we come to the end of my story. During the summer, I watched the younger
versions of myself do the same spell I did, and get sent back in time. I have
thought about it over the last 89 years, and decided that I could not deprive myself
of the adventures and loves I have found in the past.

So, I took her place, believing I could resume my place in the group as if I had
never left. But it didn’t work. None of you can accept this change in me. That
became violently clear to me these last few months. And with the arrival of my
love, I cannot continue to pretend to be the girl I once was. You all barely tolerate
Spike’s presence, despite our every avowal that he can be trusted. You grudgingly
accept his help, yet call me a fool for believing and trusting this vampire.

And finally, school. It no longer holds any interest for me. First year psychology
pales in comparison to the computer engineering/programming, foreign languages,
quantum biomechanical physics and medical degrees I have obtained over the years.

This letter can be construed as many things. If you can accept who I am, then this
is a letter of explanation. But if you can’t, then this is my final farewell, as both
Spike and I shall leave after the new year, never to return to Sunnydale in your
lifetime.

I wish you well in your lives, and hope that you can come to terms with who I am
now, for I am happy with my life. After these last few months, I found that I
cannot change back into the girl you once knew, and I realized that I don’t want to.

Goodbye.

Love Always,

Willow Rosenberg