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Life and Times

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

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