Here's my first attempt at fanfiction... or for that matter fiction of any kind. Mostly this started as a way to fill in plot holes that have been bugging me for years now. Like, who was the Doctor (I just don't believe it was Spike), and how did Angel get out of hell, what happened to Dawn's keyness, and what was up with that dominoes comment Doc made that one time? Anyway, it seems to have run away with me. This is a work in progress, and I welcome constructive criticism (my muse survives almost exclusively on Doritos and comments, so please comment :)).

Many thanks to my lovely beta, Mayalaen :)

Title: A New Dawn

Pairing: Spike/Gunn friendship, Spike/Dawn eventually, and maybe even a little Dawn/female OC just for the heck of it.

Rating: PG-13 for violence, language (ratings pertain to the chapter linked in the post. That way, if you like the first few chapters but squick easy, you can skip the NC-17's)

Summery: Post NFA. This one picks up where NFA left off, with our heroes facing impossible odds, at least until they get some unexpected help.

Disclaimer: I don't own it. I'm just borrowing it, and when I'm done I'll put it back where I found it.

We are the Champions

Gunn had never seen Angel like this, except once, on Pylea, where the vampire had walked in the sun for the first time in some 250 years. Now he was practically bouncing. Gunn searched his pockets and pulled out a gold chain with a three-inch tall gold cross dangling from it. He held the cross and chain out to Angel, his eyebrows raised in a cross between an invitation and a question. The erstwhile vampire hesitated just a moment, a vestige of his formerly instinctive fear sobering him. Then he picked up the holy item with two fingers. When it remained cool and inert, he cupped it in his palm.

"What the bloody hell is goin' on here?" Spike demanded as he reached the two men. He grabbed Angel's shoulders in his hands and looked the taller man up and down. "Hey," he said, frowning in confusion. "You're all right."

"Well, damn. Guess that makes me chopped liver," Gunn said with a laugh.

As if noticing the other man for the first time, Spike stared at him with wide eyes before breaking into a cheerful smile. "Charlie-boy!" His smile faded to be replaced by an annoyed scowl. "Doesn't anyone stay dead anymore? And what are you grinnin' about?" he asked, turning to Angel. "Thought you'd be off havin' a good brood over the Victory Against Impossible Odds by now. What?!" Spike demanded, annoyed at the lack of annoyance on Angel's side.

Without a word, his beaming grandsire held up the cross in his hand. In his eagerness to show Spike, Angel nearly shoved the cross up his nose, and Spike jumped back.

"Hey, watch it!" he yelped.

"I'm human, Spike, look! The prophesy. I thought I signed it away, but—"

Spike grabbed Angel's wrist, staring intently at the hand holding the cross. "You're not smoking," he said, almost to himself.

"Yeah," agreed Angel giddily. "In fact, I think we should all take a moment to note how much smoke is not coming from my hand right now. Oh, and smell that? That's not the smell of burning flesh." At Spike's and Gunn's raised eyebrows, Angel amended, "Okay, I guess it is, but it's not coming from me!"

Eyeing the cross warily, Spike asked, "You sure it's not just deconsecrated? Maybe someone shoved it up their bum or somethin'." Cautiously, he touched the tip of a finger to the cross and yelped in pain, jerking his hand back. "Bloody hell," he said, half in pain and half in wonder.

"Uh, Spike? You're kinda hurting my arm," Angel said.

"Oh," Spike released Angel's wrist. "Sorry." For the first time, Spike really looked at Angel, saw the steady rise and fall of his chest, the unusually lifelike flush of his skin, heard the heartbeat, and there, just barely perceptible, was the scent of his blood beneath his skin. Human blood. "Bloody hell," he said again. "You are human."

"Gunn, you are not dead." The small group jumped a little at the unexpected sound of Illyria's voice. "This surprises me," she continued as she reached the small group.

"Sorry to disappoint, your highness," Gunn responded.

"I am not disappointed," she said, then turned her unblinking stare on Angel. "And you are human. How unfortunate for you. You have my pity," she said.

"Don't waste the effort, Blue," Spike said, nudging her arm gently. Illyria looked at her arm in annoyance, then back at Spike. "He's as happy as a pup with two –"

"Guys?" Willow's 'voice' was fainter this time.

Gunn's head snapped up, alarmed. "Hey, did y'all—"

"I heard that earlier," Angel said talking over Charles, "It sounded like—Willow?" Uncertain, he turned the statement into a question.

Having completely forgotten about Willow's involvement, Spike now called out, asking where she was. There was no answer, and grudgingly he tried again silently. This time he 'heard' a faint reply.

"…the roof."

"Which roof?" he wondered out loud.

Illyria pointed up at the Hyperion. "There," she said, and turning to Spike, asked "What is this 'Willow'? I smell the power of a god."

"Uberwitch," he answered. "Almost destroyed the world once, from what I hear. Usually bats for the white hats, though. She's responsible for the fireworks." He gave Gunn a thoughtful look.

"I would like to meet such a powerful being," the blue demon said, and leapt gracefully onto the roof of the hotel. The vampire followed more slowly, using a fire escape.

When Angel, momentarily forgetting his new limitations, tried to follow and missed the lowest grated landing by several feet, Spike nearly fell down laughing, and had to grab the railing for support.

"Oh, Peaches! That's—," he broke down in a new round of guffaws at the look on Angel's face. "'S'a good thing I got no happiness clause hangin' over my head," he said when he could speak again, "Coz that would'a done me, right there!"

"Shut up, Spike," Angel said in a warning tone.

"Or what? You'll breathe on me?" Still snickering, Spike climbed the rest of the way to the roof.

Angel glared after him, steadfastly refusing to wish that he could shift into gameface. Gunn clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, relax, Soul Man," he said. "You know stuff like that's gonna happen, you being all Shanshu-ed up and all. Besides," he continued, now grinning, "that was kinda funny."

"Y'know, somehow that does not make me feel better, Gunn," Angel groused, stalking toward the back entrance of the hotel.

Gunn followed behind him, used to his boss' moods. "Hey, what are friends f—" Gunn jerked to a halt, his eyes wide. "Shit," he said, catching Angel's attention, who turned to look at Gunn expectantly. "Wes. What if Wes is alive, too? Man, we need to find him."

Angel had his doubts, but didn't voice them. Instead, he suggested Illyria do the honors. "She's fastest and knows exactly where he is." In any event, he told himself, they would need to collect the body.

Willow tried to move, then gave it up as a bad idea. She was pretty sure she was laying down on a solid surface, so the bobbing sensation was a bit disconcerting, as was the way the sky didn't want to sit still. She thought she remembered someone asking her questions, but couldn't recall if it was a man or a woman. Both? She definitely couldn't remember the questions or her answers to them, so maybe she just imagined it. She must be tired. Yeah, that was it. Hey, where did the sky go?