I grimly heard distant bells toll eleven. I knew I should go home. The day had been so emotionally and physically draining (despite the fact that I'd neither cried nor done anything strenuous), that I wasn't sure that I would be able to put up much of a fight if attacked. I was a little wary because Ms. Rosenburg's plot was on the edge of the grave yard, near a forest of trees. But I couldn't leave. I needed to stay.

I sat in silence for several more minutes before I was broken out of my revere. The sudden sound on leaves crunching, made me jump to my feet in a defensive stance. My eyes searched the trees looking for an attack.

A tall figure emerged from a stand of oaks. It pulled a cigarette to it's mouth. The tip glowed red as it inhaled, drawing smoke into it's lungs.

The figure came slowly into the moon light. My vision was assaulted with dark hair, dark eyes and prominent cheekbones. Despite the fact that the legendary blond hair was missing, I knew I was gazing on famous Spike himself. Now I knew why Ms. Rosenburg fell for him. He was... Well, let me just put in this way, he could wear a dress and still look damn good.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked me, angrily. He knew what I was and apparently wasn't happy.

"I could ask you the same thing, Spike" I spat. "You know that I was the only one at the service that actually knew her. I even arranged her funeral. I tried God only knows how many fucking times to get a hold of you! I called every single number that I could find. I left message after message. Where were you?"

"You don't know her!" he yelled. He rapidly closed the distance between us. "She'd never let one of you get close to her."

"I hate to break this to you, sweetheart," I said, sickeningly sweet. "I'm a watcher. I've been working with her for almost eight months trying to change the Council. As for being a demon..." I shrugged. "Not all demons are bad."

"But you are Reddjedet," Spike said, eyes narrowed. "The Reddjedet are ruthless and blood thirsty. They'll kill a human for just being in there presence. They hate mortals."

"Not all of them do," a male voice said. My eyes nearly fell out of my head and started rolling around the ground. It isn't everyday that you get to see two males that look that good in a cemetery.

Spike set his glare on the man instead of me, when he saw them. "Angelus!" he exclaimed mockingly. "Just the bloke I wanted to see!"

I eyed the man warily after I heard the name. I knew that his soul had been restored, but who knew if he had lost it again. "Angel?" I asked. "Or Angelus?"

A flash of sorrow passed before his eyes. "I still go by Angel," he said with a grim smile. "Like I said, not all Reddjedet are evil, Spike," Angel said, changing the subject. "Remember the demon hunter that almost killed us by setting fire to the lair in Madrid?"

"Yes," Spike answered. "That bitch. Almost got one of my hands burnt off."

"She was Reddjedet," Angel said.

"Let me guess," I said, laughing. "You met up with Liliana."

"You know her?" Spike asked.

"Personally," I replied. "We're family."

"'Personally'?" Angel asked. "Reddjedet are immortal? I didn't think they were."

"Some lines are," I mumbled. I wanted to get the subject off me. My anger resurfaced and I turned toward Spike. "That still doesn't answer where you were Spike. Where the hell were you?"

Spike walked over to the recently worked dirt that Ms. Rosenburg laid under. "I was in India. I talked to her two weeks ago. She told me she was fine. She sounded okay. I knew that she was going to die eventually. I wanted to be here with her when the time came. The next thing I know a business contact of mine calls me two days ago with the news that she had died." Spike gazed down at the ground. It was as if he was trying to see her through the soil. " She was in the bloody hospital when I called the last time. The housekeeper transferred me over and I never knew a thing."

"Yes," I told him. My foolish anger dissipated. I went over to him. I tried to lay my hand on his arm but he pulled away. "She wanted it that way. She would have killed us if any one of us had told an outsider. Not literally, but she's very intimidating when she wants to."

"But it was my damn housekeeper," Spike muttered.

"Ah yes," I said. "But they're loyal to her. You wouldn't have had it any other way. They would have protected her from any thing. The poor housekeeper probably didn't know it was you anyway," I added. I didn't want to see what Spike would do to the poor woman, if she was there and he was angry. I don't think it'd be pretty.

Spike nodded. "I needed to be there and she denied me that," he said more to himself than Angel or me. He stared at Ms. Rosenburg's grave, oblivious to anything that was around him.

I moved back into the trees and so did Angel. We gave him his space. I leaned against a pine and lit a cigarette. I pulled the smoke into my lungs, enjoying the calming feel of it.

I glanced over at Angel and tried to say something, but found that it was that it was awkward. I could tell that he wasn't used to talking to people and I was in awe. I mean the famous Angel/Angelus was standing next to me. It's not often you meet someone from the pages of your history books.

Finally, after several minutes, I spoke up. "Ms. Rosenburg thought you were dead," I told him.

Angel's head shot up. He looked surprised. At last he said, "I don't doubt that. I wasn't very stable the last time I saw her." He smiled sadly. "I came when I read of her death in the paper."

"I imagine Hell does that to a person," I commented. As soon as I said that I winced. "I'm sorry," I apologized. "That wasn't very tactful of me."

"That's okay. It was a long time ago," he replied.

"It's not okay," I told him. "I have this inexplicable nature to be blunt and rude." I smiled slightly. "You'd think I would have gotten rid of it with all the watcher ass I have to kiss."

Angel smiled at that. "You're a new watcher?" he asked. I nodded. My expression must have said something because the next thing he said was, "Well, everybody has to start somewhere."

"Yes," I said. "At the bottom of mountain... A very steep, rocky and tall one."

"Yes, I suppose it is. How did you know Willow?" he asked.

"She contacted me a few months ago and wanted me to come visit her," I replied. "I came because I had heard some things about her while studying watcher history. It turns out that the reason she had contacted me was because she had heard about some of my theories that I had brought up, while in training, about not all demons being destructive and against mortals. Ms. Rosenburg told me her life story about Spike and you and her own struggles to change the Council. She believed that I could succeed where she didn't... I can't imagine why."

"Did she know?" Angel asked.

"Did she know I was Reddjedet?" He nodded. "I don't know. I suspected that she did, but I never brought it up and neither did she. Considering that she was a *witch,* and a strong one at that, I think she did. I prefer to think that she did."

"She probably did," Angel agreed. I think he said it more to comfort me than anything else.

I looked up and saw that Spike had tears running down his face. I tried to resist but I did the thing that I felt Ms. Rosenburg would want. I walked over to him. "Pull yourself together," I snapped. I took out a Kleenex and roughly wiped the blood tinged tears off his face. "Do you think she would have wanted to reduce the almighty William the Bloody to tears?"

Spike gave me a murderous glare. For a moment, I thought that he was going to kill me. I actually saw my life flash before my eyes and everything.

After a minute, he straightened. "You're right. She wouldn't want this. Have you picked out a headstone yet?"

I shook my head. "I thought that you should do it."

"Thank you," he told me. He turned and started staring at the ground, yet again.

Spike, Angel and I all stayed there for several minutes. Angel left first. He disappeared into the shadows. From my knowledge, no one has ever seen him again. I left second. I felt that Spike needed to grieve alone. I also needed to move on. Unlike Angel, Spike's been around. He even fought my slayer once, but after he saw me with her one night on patrol, he skipped town.

On that lonely night, many good byes were said that night To Ms. Rosenburg. One from a lover, whose love was so strong it had spanned over fifty years. One from an old friend, who would never forget the young, innocent girl he knew. One from a protege, who would always look up to her.

A month later, I made the trek back to Ms. Rosenburg's resting place. I was curious to see what Spike had chosen to place in her memory. I was surprised to see that the stone was plain. I had expected something extravagant. But when I read it I knew why.

Willow Rosenburg
1981 - 2081

"She loved."

It has been almost seventy-five years since I said good bye to Ms. Rosenburg. I can still remember every moment spent with her clearly. It's like no time has passed at all and I guess for one I've my nature it hasn't.

In the time since her death, I've accomplished what Ms. Rosenburg striven for. I have changed the Council. The Council no longer views demons as the enemy and the slayer is taught to fight when attacked or when they know that the demon means to bring the harm. Several outspoken demons have become 'Dark Watchers' as the Council refers to them. I say outspoken because my family are all Reddjedet and many of us have served as watchers. I have also, in this time, reveled my status as demonic and am now an influential member of the Council.

When I was asked to write this account by the other members of the Council, I was afraid that anyone who happens to read this account will think that I was a hard bitch and that anyone that I admired must be likewise. You are quite right on the first part. It is my nature to be hard and cold. But on the second you are rather mistaken. Ms. Rosenburg was more of a lady and frankly a decent person, than I or most of society will ever be.

Ms. Rosenburg was strong, smart and talented. And most importantly pure of heart. I, for one, will always remember her.

Julieta De La Brosse
27 August 2155