The Chase

"Hello Red." Spike breathed.

Willow's eyes fluttered weakly. Several machines beeped and whirled. Then slowly the lids opened and brilliant green eyes met icy blue maybe for the last time. She looked startled. Her eyes held fear, then remembrance. Her lips attempted to smile, but the flesh just wouldn't stretch for her anymore. Her lips parted, "You look the same . ." She whispered.

Spike laughed. Her voice still held a childlike awe, amazed at the whole wide world. A smile touched hiss face. "Of course I do. I am a vampire remember?"

Her gray hair spread out around her like a soft storm cloud. His hand reached out to touch it. I miss the red He thought. It's vibrant color was much more appropriate to the fiery personality.

"I'm old. I'm not senile. It's just I haven't seen you in so long. Your still wearing that trenchcoat." Her eyes twinkled with gentle teasing.

"Oh, well I like it. Black is always in. Keeps my bad ass rep intact, even when I am visiting old mortal girls who have no taste in jackets."

Spike fondly stroked the old woman's cheek. Her mind was still as sharp as ever. That was good. It wouldn't be worth the risk otherwise. He grinned at her. She wouldn't thank him for it. First, he had to tell her. . .

"Oz is dead."

"What??" Spike had known the werewolf was dead.. He never would have come here if the dog was alive. She loved him too much. It surprised him that she would tell him. Did she suspect?

"He," Pain choked her voice. "His heart. I found him in the basement still chained. He just couldn't control the changes anymore. That's why I'm here. I didn't handle it too well." She frowned at her own weakness.

"You loved him." More then you loved or even liked me. The door opened and a young fellow stepped into the room. Spike motioned him into the corner, out of sight. "It's only, what's that term? The one they always use on television? Human. That's it." Sympathy for the dead was not his strong suit. Especially since the dog had tried to kill him on and off for two decades. Slayer dog.

"Why are you here?" Willow asked. "It's been at least forty years since we stopped fighting the supernatural and dusting the undead." She colored. "Sorry. Those were probably your friends."

Exhausted from her little speech, Willow closed her eyes. Spike watched her chest heave with the effort to continue breathing. He had even less time then he had originally thought. He motioned the other guy forward. Then he stood and turned away from the former hacker/demon hunter.

Placing his hands behind his back, Spike paced. "It was a long time ago that we became," Friends? Something more? "That we stopped trying to kill one another. You saved my life. Then I attempted to return the favor when Dru," My pet. Druscilla was long dusted by Buffy's replacement, who Spike had then tortured to death slowly for over five years. The pain of that loss was still being felt. Maybe that's why he had come here. Why he had remembered the girl. "Tried to kill you. Anyway, there was one thing about that second meeting of ours that you should remember. I said I would. And here I am."

Willow slowly reopened her eyes. Her mind was whirling. Desperately trying to search for the right memory. Her great green eyes blinked once, very slowly. "You said one day, I wouldn't be with Oz. And that you would come back. Come back for me."

Spike could hear her heart quicken. Fear? Or excitement? He kept his back to her.

"But I'm too old now. I have children. I have children who have children. And I'm dying. I won't last another night." Her voice was satisfied. She thought she was beyond that possible future now. Spike turned his icy eyes to her. Then waved the other man forward.

"The only way you will escape me is death. But I plan to cheat the bastard. Remember not to fight too hard. Although it doesn't really matter. I am going to win."

Spike turned to the man who was no man. The creature was an Incubus. They made their way in the world by sucking the life-force out of the young, in a way that would make the nearly three hundred year old vampire blush. Spike thought of him as sort of a distant cousin. This one owed him a favor.

"Are you ready?"

The creature nodded. "It's unusual. I'm not sure what this will do. It could kill her." The incubus leaned over the old woman. Spike grabbed his shoulder.

"Understand this, friend. If she dies, you die. And it will not be pleasant nor an easy way to go." His eyes flashed blue fire.

Willow was weakly thrashing around. She was barely able to make the sheets ripple. The creature leaned over her. Willow whimpered, hating herself for the weakness. The attractive build and features of the thing didn't fool her. He was a monster. His mouth latched onto hers. She screamed into his throat. Then her body was paralyzed.

Spike watched intently as Willow suffered the incubus's kiss. This had better work. I am tired of being alone. A painful seizure ripped through her frail body and Spike fought down the urge to kill. Then he felt the magic in the air. Ignoring the creature, he stared at the hacker's face. Nothing seemed to happen for several seconds, then it did.

Fire and ice screamed through her veins. Why is he doing this to me? I thought we were at least not enemies, maybe even friends Every cell in her body had current running through it. A sweet pain raced around within, burning, hurting, and changing.

Spike almost gasped as her hair became fuller, lighter. Then color seeped into it slowly, like a blood stain. The red spread out from her roots, till it was all red. The flesh on her face grew fuller, the wrinkles smoothed themselves. The frail hands gained flesh, her spine straightened. Blemishes on the pale skin vanished. She was getting younger by the second.

*************

Her eyes met Spike's. They were hooded, full of mysterious emotions. Willow glared at him. Then he smiled. It was a dark smile full of desire. That confused her. She placed her head in her hands. Then she pulled away from her own hands as if they had bitten her.

The hands were young, strong, soft. Not my hands. She turned to Spike and caught a flash of red. Her young hand caught hold of a wisp of her hair. It was red. Red. His eyes never left her. She glanced around the room, her vision clear. Willow's mind whirled with confusion, until she saw the older man.

His features were the same as before, just older. Willow's eyes narrowed. The man backed away from her fiery green eyes. "What did you do to me?" She asked in a clear loud tone. The strength in her voice startled her. She lay back against the covers. "I'm young again." She breathed.

**************

Spike dragged his eyes away from the vibrant redhead. "How long?" He demanded.

The incubus frowned. "Maybe two days."

"Plenty of time. Dave, get out."

The incubus slinked out of the room.

"Oh, and Dave, eat something. You look like hell."

Spike turned back to the girl. Willow was now somewhere between eighteen and twenty. She was now slightly older then when they had been trapped together in the mansion. She was the perfect age. Spikes face changed. He felt the fangs slide down into place. It was definitely time.

Spike moved closer to the bed. The girl's eyes widened in surprise. "No no no no no no." Willow tore at the IV lines and the machines. Slapping her wrists and dragging her nails across the flesh to pull out needles and tubes. Machines began to squawk. She was desperate to escape.

"Stop it!" He yelled, grabbing her arms. His face reverted to its human visage. Fear widened eyes glanced up at him, full of tears. Gently he removed the tubes. "You'll hurt yourself." His voice was soft and persuasive. Willow stopped struggling.

"Listen Willow, we had a deal. We couldn't be together because we loved other people, but they're dead now. So stop fighting me."

Spike had hoped she'd just want him to change her. She was dying, he could stop that from ever happening. What was the problem?

************

Willow pushed the fear down. It probably wasn't good for her at her age. Willow mentally laughed at herself. I'm not old anymore. And fear is a good thing. "I can't stop." All those years fighting the undead . .

Spike angrily knocked over her IV stand. The bag split and fluids sloshed all over the floor. "Damnit Willow! Oz is dead. Dru is dust. Xander, Buffy, that damn librarian, even the cheerleader, they are all dead. Why can't we be together??"

"I-I ah, c-can't . . ."

"Can't what? Face the thought of spending eternity with me? That Willow my love, is a damned lie!" Another machine crashed into the floor. "Ever since I touched you, you have felt drawn to me. Why do you think, in the many opportunities you've had to kill me or let your slayer kill me, you have never done it?? I'll tell you. You want this. You want us to be together. But your conscience won't let you admit it. You won't let you admit it!!!" Spike glared down at her. Then he turned away.

"All right. You don't want to give up the fight. I love a good challenge as much as the next bloke. Here is the deal. You have all of tonight and all of tomorrow day to get your affairs in order. Write a will, read a good book, say good-bye to the family. Tomorrow night you meet me at your old house here in Sunnydale. The game is simple. Kill me and you are free to regrow old and die. Don't kill me, or if I catch you, you will never die." He turned his blue eyes on her once more.

Willow was in shock. He's giving me the chance to kill him. . She didn't know what to say. So she sat there with her mouth open.

"Do we have a deal?"

She was dead either way. Part of her would live on either way. The deal was simple soul goes on, or the body. Deal with the devil and either way he'll get your soul. Willow lowered her eyes. What do I want? I mean really? Apart from the whole moral dilemma thing? No inner voice answered. One last battle against the supernatural. "Deal."

*************

Spike blinked. He hadn't expected her to agree. Does she want to live forever? Or does she really want to kill me? Spike shrugged. It didn't really matter. A dark grin crossed the vampire's pale flesh. "Then the chase is on."

*******************

Willow swallowed. Why did I just agree to this?? The room was empty. Spike had walked out. He didn't have to keep an eye on her. Willow knew if she didn't show up Spike would slaughter her children and grandchildren.

Sliding her barefeet down onto the cold hospital tile, she grinned. I never thought I would leave this place. Her feet guided her over the worst of the water spill. Willow pulled her clothes out of the closet. Slipping the big sweater over her head, she laughed. De-aging had lost her about twenty pounds. The sweater was now ridiculously big and hung from her frame. A mirror caught her eye.

The image was a shock. Willow's hand snaked to her face, touching the nicely rounded face. I look like my granddaughter Amy! The sweater did look silly. The red hair looked wonderful. Willow spent several seconds remembering what it was like to be young. To go to the Bronze with Xander, talk boys with Buffy, and then there was every moment spent with Oz. . . Willow shook herself. The past was long buried.

A soft knock sounded startled her. Willow ducked into the closet. It smelled stale like moth balls. She placed her young hand over her young face. People stepped into the hospital room. The voices were muffled by the closet door, but Willow heard enough. One was her son Alex, and the other was her daughter Jenny. They had found the mess and assumed the worst. The two had a rapid fire conversation and ran off to get security.

Willow pulled on her clunky orthopedic shoes and fled the room.

Ten minutes later she was home. Half the night had gone. She only had until sunset. The beautiful house was dark. No one would be here this late. Willow walked down the stone path past the flowers. Sliding her hand along the top edge of the door frame, she grabbed her spare key. The door opened easily. Willow sighed, entering the living room.

The giant TV and the lights blinked on as the door shut. Automatic functions were carried out by the system Willow had designed. She smiled as she heard the coffee pot turn itself on in the kitchen. The Future is here. She thought, climbing the stairs to her room.

The master bedroom was half empty. Her children had boxed up all of Oz's things in an attempt to help her. They just couldn't understand how much the empty spaces had hurt her. It was as if a part of herself had been erased. Gone forever. Willow opened the trunk at the foot of their bed.

Her children hadn't understood the comfort memories could be. Willow stared down at the innocent pile of clothes and momentos. A picture of Oz lay on the top. A sad smile touched her lips. It was Alex's graduation party. Oz had been the only 35 year old with fuchsia hair. Gently she laid the picture back on the top. Then she lifted the entire top out of the trunk.

Stakes, bottles of holy water, and ancient spell books lined the bottom all covered in dust . I may be young again, but I still have the same old problems She hefted the tiny crossbow she had designed for Buffy. It attached to the wrist and shot one tiny bolt. It had saved the Slayer's life on several occasions, maybe it would save her now.

Piling supplies into her bag, Willow closed the trunk. The smell of dust and wood was overpowering. It brought back so much. She couldn't stand to sit there and remember, not when they were all dead. Wiping silent tears away she crawled into her and Oz's bed. Sleep and dreams overtook her.

***********

Spike swore at the clock. Hiding out back in the old mansion was not a good idea. In fact it was a terrible idea. After an hour, Spike had found himself back in the room. The stairs had partially collapsed. Rats made bold by lack of human contact stared openly at the vampire as he passed. He kicked one. It screamed and scurried down into one of the holes in the wall.

Glancing up at the gaping hole in the ceiling, Spike almost sighed. He had almost died here. She could have killed him. Instead she had removed the chunk of wood flooring that was threatening his existence and let him feed off her. Powerful emotions seemed to linger in the tiny cellar room.

Willow was going to fight him. Her best friend was the bloody Slayer. It didn't matter that the blond had died years ago. Willow had fought demons, vampires, and demigods, and with the help of her friends, she had killed them all. She may have looked meek, but she had a warrior's heart. Her outliving everyone of the slayer's friends and the bloody Slayer herself was proof of that.

Spike hunkered down into the corner of the room, alone with his memories of a filthy red haired girl with his blood on her hands.

*************