A.N.: I know! I know! I whored out all these stories that I wrote and was on the brink of posting but writer's block and self-doubt kicked my ass. Plus, I got sick of all the angst in the Twilight's Darkness-verse. So, I turned to the complete opposite of Twilight, Sons of Anarchy. I read a great Buffy/SoA story and it got my creative juices flowing again. Maybe after a few chapters of light angst, sex, drugs, violence and gun-running, I can return to Willow Cullen and her life o' pain. Few deets: This takes place in 2011 while the SAMCROW boys are in jail but after Tara gives birth, and seven years after the Season 8 comic which took place a year after the series finale. Willow's 29 and it's AU after the seed was shattered. This chapter explains what happened during those years. I tried my best to make it all fit and seem somewhat organic. Let me know if I pulled it off.

(Disclaimer: Buffy and Co. belong to Joss, SoA belongs to Kurt Sutter. I own nothing, not even my soul. I traded it in for a bottleof water. I know... but it was really hot that day!)

I sat on the hood of my car, staring at the wooden sign that welcomed me to the new town I would be living in. I knew that I should be excited about having a fresh start, but I couldn't muster up the energy. All I could do is look around me in despair.

San Francisco was lush and green, setting the tone for every other place I lived. Even without my powers I felt more at ease surrounded by rain, cool winds, rich earth, and lush forests that gave everything a verdant tint. I stayed mostly in small towns around Tacoma, Washington and Portland, Oregon when in the States. This town was the complete opposite of everything I loved. It was flat, dry, and hot, the earth looked scorched and everything was tinged with red or orange. Charming was not the name for this place.

Glancing at my skin, I winced. My fondness for sleeping all day and doing my business at night showed. I was always fair, but my skin looked pallid and colorless in the severe glare of the sun. The faint blue veins standing out harshly against my wan flesh.

Realizing that sitting in the sun for any longer would result in wicked sunburn, I fled to the safe confines of my air-conditioned car. I sat there for a few minutes, calmly breathing in and out as I cooled down. I pulled off, finally crossed the line and entered Charming.

As I drove through town, I looked at the scenery. Barring the climate, the small town wasn't so bad. I couldn't spot any chain stores, even the grocery store was a mom and pop place. It was quaint to see a coffee place that didn't boast about having free wi-fi. It was also painful because it reminded me so much of Sunnydale.

I made my way through the business district and into the residential area, following the directions coming from the portable GPS navigation system on my dashboard. The homes progressed from small ranch houses to large two or three-story buildings as I went on.

I turned onto the driveway of my new house. Turning the key, I shut the engine off. I exited the car and glanced around. The realtor followed my instructions and didn't put up an obnoxious 'SOLD' sign. The last thing I wanted was anyone bothering me on my first day in Charming.

I stared up at the three-story Victorian house. It looked even better than it did in the pictures I saw online. Painted a vibrant robin's egg blue with a white trim, the house had a spacious porch that started in the front, went around the side and ended in the back and a two-car garage attached.

I grabbed a duffle bag from the backseat of my car before walking up the steps and letting myself in. Once I locked the door behind me and saw the inside, a huge smile broke out.

I had made sure to buy a house with central air, but I left the task of moving in to Dawn and my Dawnie didn't let me down in the least. All the furniture was moved in and unpacked and from what she told me, all that was left to unpack were the dishes, clothing, books and personal objects. I briefly looked around, satisfied with the job the cleaning crew did and making sure all the thick curtains were closed. It was a nice luxury, to not have to clean anything. I could devote my first week here to unpacking and getting settled in.

Dragging my duffle bag into the kitchen, I opened the door that led to the garage. There was a small hallway that held the washer and dryer. I plopped the bag on top of the dryer before opening it. I started transferring all the clothes in my duffle bag to the washer before finally pulling out a small bottle of detergent. I poured a medium-sized capful into the washing machine before starting the normal cycle and closing the lid.

Satisfied that I got my clothes out of the way, I continued on to the garage with the empty duffle bag. Opening the second door, I flicked on the light before entering the roomy space. I opened the garage door, got back in the car and moved it into the garage. Quickly closing the garage door and locking it, I turned back to the car.

I pop open the trunk and lug out the spare tire that's in there. With a soft grunt, I drop it on the ground. Turning back to the trunk, I feel around the front of it and lift up the false bottom, revealing my cache of weapons, a small metal container, a larger one and a bundle wrapped in black cotton.

I filled the duffle bag with the contents of the trunk before replacing the false bottom and the tire. Slamming the trunk shut, I zipped up the bag and made my way upstairs to my bedroom.

The master bedroom was spacious, but seemed even bigger with the lack of furniture. A California king was the centerpiece, pushed against the windows with two cherry wood nightstands flanking it. A small matching dresser stood across the room from my bed and there was a computer desk and wood chair in the other corner, five boxes marked 'Willow's stuff' and a sixth labeled 'bedding-G' stood next to it.

I took out two matching Gil Hibben Jackals, putting one in each nightstand, handles facing inwards. They were gifts from Faith after it hit her that I didn't have powers to protect myself anymore, along with lessons in self-defense and fighting. The 'dark' Slayer and I had bonded since we were the only two who understood and supported keeping Angel alive after Giles' death. Well, Spike understood too and was actually in a healthy place with his 'grandsire', but his devotion to Buffy kept him from siding with us in public.

Placing the duffle bag in the back of the small walk-in closet of the master bedroom, I turned my attention to the boxes in the room. Heading for the box marked 'bedding-G', I opened it. Tugging out the pillows, pale green and white sheets, pillow cases and comforter, I made short work of making the bed, simply putting on the fitted sheet and pillow cases and tossing the sheet and comforter on the bed. I didn't see the point in making a bed I'd sleep in every night.

After that was done, I unpacked half of the four boxes of clothes, leaving the rest for when I woke up. I left out my pajamas on the bed, took off all my clothes and grabbed a towel. As I walked into the adjoining bathroom and unpacked my toiletries from the small box resting on the toilet, I felt guilty. Buffy and Xander gave up any money they kept from our illegal activities when Riley brokered that deal with Interpol and the U.S. government, but I held tightly onto the enormous nest egg I made. So, while Buffy managed a coffee shop and Xander was a general contractor, I was flitting from town to town and country to country without worry.

Shaking my head, I stepped into the shower, turning on the water and adjusting the water temperature. The hot water pounded at my sore muscles, easing the knots that formed after two straight days of traveling from Prague to California. I opened my shampoo bottle, letting the scent of freesia relax me as I washed my hair. Turning around, I leaned my head back to rinse the suds out, I go through the motions, tiredly conditioning my hair and washing up thoroughly. I grab my towel and dry myself before wrapping the towel around myself.

I walk back into my bedroom and change into a tight-fitting, cotton tank top and matching shorts, tossing my damp towel onto one of the empty boxes. I climb into the large bed satisfied that everything else can wait until after I've gotten some sleep, pulling the loose sheet and comforter over me. The cool sheets were soothing against my skin, warm and tender after I tried to scrub two days worth of travel grime off. I sighed, feeling content and at ease for the first time in forever.

The past fourteen years have been amazing and hellish at various points, especially during the first seven. My time in Sunnydale was divided into two categories, before-Buffy and after-Buffy. At least, it was when I spoke about it out loud. In my head it was always 'before Jesse died' and 'after Jesse died'.

Every night since he died I kissed a picture of him, my way of keeping him close. As much as I had loved Xander at the time, it hurt that he could write off Jesse's death so easily. Giles once tried to reason his hatred of Angel by saying that Jesse's death made him anti-vampire and anti-demon, but I knew the truth. Jesse was barely a thought in his mind after Buffy came to town and he hated Angel long before we found out he was a vampire. Any attempts I made to talk about the friend we lost were ignored by Xander in favor of trashing Angel or bemoaning how Buffy couldn't see him as a boyfriend.

When I look back at all of the women he's been involved with, it always seemed to come back to Buffy. Cordelia was Buffy before she became a Slayer, his one night stand with Faith was as close as he could get to having sex with a Slayer, Anya was a tactless version of Buffy and she even slept with Spike for solace like Buffy did, Renee was another chance to feel what it would be like to be with a Slayer, and then there was Dawn. Dawn was so much like her sister. It was no surprise when he fell in love with her or when he chose her over Buffy. The older sister might have been his brass ring but with Dawn there was no fear of being in the shadow of an epic romance, let alone two epic romances.

It seemed cruel and bitter of me to say so but I never agreed with Caleb when he called Xander 'the one who sees'. The same went for Xander claiming the role of 'the heart' in the spell to summon the First Slayer, Sineya. Before I left for England, I would have agreed whole-heartedly but I saw things with the eyes of a child before. There were so many moments through high school and college that made me wonder where the Xander I knew went.

The moment it hit me was when we were going up against the First. It was after we discovered the Potential, Amanda. I did regular mental scans to make sure we didn't have the First among us again like last time with Chloe. I heard his pretty little speech about how good Buffy and I had it and how we would never understand how hard it was for them, being normal. Claiming that he sees more than anyone because we don't watch him, the arrogance of his statement made me angry. He was right alongside everyone else pushing me to do spell after spell with the rest of them, making me a junkie and forcing me to suffer…..

I rolled over and punched a pillow as my thoughts took a darker turn. It seemed that I had so many issues with the group that I had yet to address. Maybe that's why I neglected to attend Giles' funeral or the reading of his will. Dawn, Faith and Angel were the only people I knew in Sunnydale that I could bear talking to.

I tried to move on. I cut my hair, put on my perkiest, Willow-y grin, found a meaningless office job and dated a girl that was the complete opposite of Tara in every way. Soon, I became tired of my life there which triggered my first move. Manhattan was amazing. Nothing there reminded me of home. I attended NYU, throwing myself into my schoolwork and avoiding people unless I had to deal with them. I spent my summers backpacking through Europe, spending the first and last week of my visit with Faith and Angel. I graduated with honors after four years of hard work. The night of my graduation, I packed two bags and flew to London.

I essentially lived with Faith and Angel. They were my home base, the people I returned to after I got bored with the place I was staying at. It was so different with them, easier. There were no judgments, no scolding about not checking in, and no preconceived notions about who I should be. I was allowed the freedom to just be me, make mistakes and screw up and still be loved and welcomed.

London became the home for wayward Scoobs. There was me and my gypsy travels, Spike came around whenever the rigid rules and push and pull relationship he had with Buffy was too much and he needed a break, and Dawn spent an odd week or two at the house whenever she got sick of Xander and Buffy bad-mouthing Spike, Angel, Faith or me. Not surprisingly, they didn't approve of my gallivanting and avoidance of them, Angel and Faith's oddly close relationship that seemed less and less platonic every day and Spike's defense of us which became less subtle as time went on.

It was bound to happen. We divided into two camps, reformed bad guys and judge-y good guys with Dawn caught in the middle for the past seven years. The last three seemed to be getting worse since Xander started asking Dawn to marry him every three months and like clockwork, she would show up at Faith and Angel's place or pop up in whatever town I was passing through for no less than a week before returning.

Just thinking about how much thing have changed since I met Buffy made me feel so old. I was only twenty-nine years old. I kept trying to close my eyes and fall asleep, but my thoughts kept bubbling up, keeping me awake.

With a groan, I shoved the covers aside and got up from my bed. I made my way downstairs to the kitchen, with a quick detour in the bathroom to pick up a small bottle of pills, setting them on the dresser. Opening the fridge, I looked inside to see what Dawn bought. I grabbed a small bottle of lemonade before moving upward to see what was in the freezer. I ended up eating two ham and cheese Hot Pockets and I headed back upstairs with my drink, turning on a few lights on the way so when I woke up it wouldn't be dark.

I opened the small bottle, shook out two small pills and took them, taking a long sip of lemonade to wash them down. I quickly put the pills back in the bathroom and the bottle of juice on my nightstand, making sure I was back in bed before the pills took hold.

As I felt myself relaxing and drifting into sleep, I thought of some old song. I didn't know it well, but one line stuck out in my mind.

Is that all there is?