Disclaimer: Buffy and her friends are not my creation, they belong to the Joss-God...ohm...ohm...sure wish they were, though!
"Only Hope" and Mandy Moore do not belong to me, and I'm not quite sure who, either.
I'm just writing this for fun. oh, I don't own Death Cigarettes, either.
I saw them on this old Rose McGowan movie called "Doom Generation" and I thought it was quite
fitting for Spike to smoke cigarettes with a skull and crossbones on the packaging. I don't own
Zippo, either, just one of their lighters. Please don't sue me, I'm too poor
and I need a new car.

A/N: If you are offended by the thought of two women in love, then why are you reading stories is this freakin' category? Anyway,
if that is the case, turn back now before it's too late...bwahahahaha!

Spoilers: The Sixth Season

Summary: Willow is reflecting on Tara's death and how much she meant to her.

And now, on with the show!

Prologue: Return From Nowhere

Spike fumbled around in his trench coat pockets looking for his pack of cigarettes.
Finally, his fingers grasped the pack of (the very aptly named) Death Cigarettes (complete with black
box with skull and crossbones) in his breast pocket. He opened the
box lid and removed (much to his dismay) his last cigarette. He placed it between his lips and
effortlessly flicked open his Zippo and brought the flame to the tip. He inhaled slowly, closed
his Zippo and discarded the empty pack onto the cracked pavement. He may have a soul now, but
he still didn't give much of a shit about littering. The bleached-blonde vampire took another
drag off his cigarette, his pace quickening the closer he got to his crypt, trench coat billowing
behind him in the crisp Sunnydale autumn night.