Author: Aluna (Luna)

Email: ambersgrrl@yahoo.com

Rating: NC-17 (Just to be on the safe side.)

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, the WB, and UPN own all rights to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and do not authorize this author.  All characters that you recognize belong Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, the WB, and UPN except for the ones created by the people in this group. This is solely for entertainment purposes.

Distribution: Near Her Always

Pairing: Willow/Spike maybe even Willow/Xander/Spike (Not too sure on that one though)

Summary: To keep the world, as they know it, Willow, Spike, and Xander must find a way to work together to keep it from shifting.

Author Notes:  First off I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Maggie, a very wonderful and insightful friend who helped me come up with this story.  Next I'd like to thank Dayla, my sister, for her additional help when I needed a prophecy and managed to come up with it very quickly.  Lastly I'd like to thank Malea for beta-ing this for me.  All of you were more help then you can possibly realize.  One last thing this is my first attempt at this genre so please be kind in your comments, helpful suggestions always appreciated and welcomed.  Oh and if you don't like it there's two options there's the back button or tell me why you didn't like it and how you think I could fix it.  'Single quotation marks indicate thoughts.'

The Power Of Three

Tears ran in rivers down the young woman's face.  Her brilliant red hair whipped around her as she trudged down the dank alleyway, paying no heed to anyone, or thing, who might be watching.  Her heart was broken.  The ache was so much worse this time around.  She had no one to blame, save herself.  She knew that if she continued to use magic there were going to be consequences.  The young woman had been confident that she would be able to overcome any obstacle.  Just look where it had landed her.  Her friends didn't trust her and her girlfriend had left.

Green eyes searched the surrounding darkness for her stop.  She knew she shouldn't be here, knew it and was here anyway.  She had promised her friends she would stop, but she couldn't.  Not now.  The lithe redhead was looking for a new supplier; she needed a fix and she needed it badly.

The longer the young woman looked the more she noticed about the alley in which she currently stood.  It was filthy.  There were small sounds that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.  Her petite hand curled around the stake in her pocket.  She might be one badass Wiccan but that didn't mean she was at the top of her game right now.  Her eyes flicked nervously around the alley one last time.  Maybe The Powers That Be didn't want her here and were telling her directly.

"Willow Rosenberg, will you please get a hold of yourself?" she told herself sternly.  The redhead turned and started making her way back to the mouth of the alley.  She moved quickly as her fear began to increase, running she made her way back to the entrance.

A shadow separated itself from the rest of the gloom at the end.  Willow's pulse sped up.  Her thoughts scattered to the wind.  The blood pounded through her veins and her breathing became shallow as she took a small faltering step back.  The nameless shadow took another step toward her.  In her rising panic she turned and fled down the alley she'd been trying to leave.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*

The blonde kicked a headstone with renewed anger.  That hollow bitch's voice echoed in his ears.  He just needed to get away from her before he did something they'd both regret.  Safely away from anyone's view, he let his blue eyes fill with hurt and wished, not for the first time, that he could cry.  The "big bad" image be damned.  He just wanted to let out all the anger and pain he was feeling.

How many times would he be cursed to feel something for someone that didn't care about him in return?  It seemed to be a never-ending cycle with him.  He knew just what this situation called for.  Violence.  A nice spot of violence would cure him of this bout of self-pity.

Without much searching, he managed to find just what he'd been looking for.  Or, more appropriately, they found him.  A couple of fledgling vampires had stumbled upon a very disturbed Spike.  The fight was over almost before it really began.  'Pity,' he thought, 'It would have satisfied some dark, sinister urge to leave them posed for the Slayer to find later.'

As he was walking back to his crypt, something caught his attention, something small.   Intrigued, he followed it a short distance.  His amusement increased the longer he tagged along after his quarry.  He wondered briefly why she was down there alone, but decided the reason didn't really matter.  It never did.  He was looking for a distraction and he'd found one.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*

The young man rolled his eyes yet again as his girlfriend went on and on about the wedding.  'This is getting ridiculous,' he thought.  He loved her, he really did, but sometimes she could work his last nerve over, big time.  He'd had a long day at the site and this rambling was driving him to distraction.

The young woman was oblivious to her boyfriend's tired and frazzled nerves.  She chatted happily about the upcoming nuptials.  She oohed and ahhed over dresses that she constantly showed her disinterested partner.  She either didn't notice or didn't care about his apparent lack of enthusiasm.

The dark haired man had had enough.  "An, honey, you think you could give it a rest already," Xander pleaded tiredly.

The ex-demon blinked a couple of times before getting a cross look, then threw her magazine down. "Honestly, Xander, if I didn't know any better I'd say you didn't want to marry me."  She crossed her arms over her stomach.  Her heart dropped to her feet as she wondered if he wasn't already trying to find a way out of their engagement.

The young man sprang to his feet and took his girlfriend's hands in his.  "Anya, I love you, and of course I want to marry you," he took a deep breath.  "It's just that this is all moving so fast that it doesn't even seem real, you know?"  His chocolate brown eyes begged her to understand his plight.

She couldn't deny him anything.  He did love her, she *knew* that, but some part of her gave voice to all of her darkest fears.  Slowly, she nodded her head.  Forcing herself to sound cheerful, despite the doubts gnawing at her, she said, "Perhaps we are rushing this.  Maybe we should push the wedding back?" She hesitated, looking at her fiancé for his reaction.

"No, An, you're right.  It's better this way.  The sooner we get this over with the better," Xander could have kicked himself at the crestfallen look on his love's face.

Anya couldn't believe her ears.  Had he really just said what she'd thought he'd said?  Judging by the guilty look on his face, the answer was yes.  Before she could say anything, her intended spoke, "An, honey, I'm sorry.  You know I didn't mean it that way."

"What way is that, Xander?" she snapped angrily.  "You know what?  You decide what you want.  I'm going for a walk.  When I get back, you better know what's going on around here.  I'm tired of being the only one excited about this wedding."  Without another word Anya stormed out of the apartment leaving a stunned Xander standing alone.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*

The demon smirked from the shadows.  All was going according to plan.  Now all he had to do was come in and scoop up the pieces.  This was entirely too easy.  He waited a few moments before he moved to follow the crying female.  It would never do to let the lady think she was alone during these troubled times.

He cautioned himself to wait for her to call him.  She would eventually.  She always did.  He was her teacher, mentor, and, in some respects, her father figure.  When she calmed down, she would summon him to ask for his guidance, and then he would have her.  Victory was within his grasp; all he had to do was wait for it to come together.

As a demon, one got used to the waiting game.  This was no exception.  Only this time the stakes were higher.  One false move and he'd lose it all.  Even with the sweet taste of triumph on his lips, he hesitated in gloating.  He was never one to give in too early to that impulse.  Once everything had begun, then and only then, would he celebrate.  D'Hoffryn let a small smile grace his face before he stepped out of the shadows, answering Anya's call.