"If you think things are screwed up now, just stick around." --Dortmunder's Axiom
The skeleton, animated by some force beyond the mortal realm, leapt into the fray, swiping at the twisted mockeries of flesh with its sword. Green energy spewed forth whenever the blade made contact. With one last blow, the undead knight defeated the last of his enemies and turned to claim his prize. Leaping over a chasm, he landed on a stone altar. Above him floated a golden chalice, pink wisps of energy flowing over its rim. His fleshless hand reached out... "Xander?" "Hmmm?" Xander didn't look up; he moved the PlayStation controller forward, and the skeleton on the TV screen grabbed the Chalice. "Yes! In your face!" "Xander!" He looked up to see a slightly annoyed Tara standing by the door. "Hey. What's up?" he asked, hitting pause. "Have you seen Willow this morning?" "Uh...haven't you?" "No. She slept in her own room last night. Seen her?" "I think she headed to work first thing this morning," Xander said. "But, y'know, I was trying to assemble Dan-kenstein here, so I'm not sure..." "Oh," Tara said disappointedly. "Um, if you see her, could you ask her to call me?" "Okay. Where are you gonna be?" "I've got a bunch of errands to run today, and I'm not sure when I'm gonna be back, so..." "Okay, sure. I'll let her know." "Thanks." Tara walked out, closing the door behind her. Huh. He unpaused the game and considered this new information. He could count the amount of times Willow and Tara had spent the night solo on one hand. And from the way Tara was acting, it sounded like they'd had an argument... Golly gee whiz. Hope there's not trouble in paradise. He tried hard not to grin and failed. As he guided Sir Daniel Fortesque through a greenhouse full of pumpkin monsters, he had the odd feeling that it was going to be a good day.
Love's Soldier. Love's Flower. Love's Child. The entire section seemed to be back to front. With a heavy sigh, Willow began to re- alphabetize the romance paperbacks. The gigantic bookstore was nearly empty this morning, just her and three other people. Hopefully the humid weather would drive customers in here soon enough. Come for the air conditioning, stay for the written word. She lingered over a book titled Honest Heart. Ha. Honesty. That would be nice, wouldn't it? A little honesty from someone she loved, just once, would be great. Last night, they'd performed a cooling spell in Tara's room. The air had grown so frosty, they'd actually found themselves forced to snuggle together in bed for warmth...not that they ever had to be forced...and somehow, the subject of her parents had come up...
The two of them were locked in a bear-hug under a heavy comforter. From her position, Willow could see ice crystals forming by the door frame, where warm air seeped through from the hallway. "What about your mother?" Tara asked. "Well, I was over there for dinner last week," Willow said. "My mom asked me what was going on in my life." "What did you tell her?" "I told her I was seeing someone," Willow replied. "Don't worry. I avoided pronouns at all turns." "Oh," Tara said in an unreadable way. "You know, I can't read your single syllable responses yet," Willow said. "What did that 'oh' mean?" "Nothing," Tara replied. "Oh. Okay." She tried a different tack. "Have you told your parents about me?" "My mother knows about you," Tara said evasively. "What about your father?" "I...can we talk about something else?" Willow sat up, annoyed. "Like what?" "What?" Tara asked. "Seriously. Give me a topic that you're comfortable with. Which, I guess, leaves out anything having to do with your personal life." "I...I'm not comfortable talking about myself." "Why?" Willow asked, lying back down so she could look into Tara's eyes. "Give me some clue." Tara closed her eyes. "I can't talk about it." Willow sighed and got out of bed. "Willow--" "Tara...look, I don't want to make you deal with something you don't want to deal with, but...I need a little honesty. I deserve a little honesty. I'm...I'm going to bed." "Okay," Tara said, nodding. "Love you." "Love you," Willow said quietly, walking out.
"Excuse me, miss," a familiar voice said from behind her. "D'you know where I could find a copy of Tobin's Spirit Guide around here?" She turned, a wide grin spreading across her face, to see Giles standing there. "How can you possibly wear tweed in this weather, Giles?" she asked. "It's a trade secret," Giles replied. "Passed on from British fathers to sons, generation after generation. So how are you?" "Oh, you know," she said. "No, actually," Giles replied. "Aside from Buffy, I don't think I've spoken with any of you since that werewolf ran amok at the zoo last week." "Poor guy," Willow said. "But we're, you know, we're fine. You should come over for dinner sometime." "I'd like that..." He noticed something in her expression. "Willow, is something wrong?" "No! No. No. Except that it is, but I don't want to unload my problems on you." "Yes, because I'd much rather that you keep your tensions bottled up inside until we all end up screaming at each other again." "Ooooh!" Willow said, mock-impressed. "Aren't we Mr. Sarcasm, Esquire today?" "You know what I mean." He looked at her seriously. "I understand that this is what's called a resolve face." "Listen to you," Willow continued. "Sarcasm and slang in the same five minutes. You're in rare form." "I'm actually in a good mood for once. Olivia's coming to visit next week. And your desperate attempt to avoid the subject has been noted." Willow sighed. "Let's go get some coffee..."
"Ask me why I'm happy," Buffy said as she scampered into the living room. "Can't talk. Killing monsters." Xander was trying to knock the block off the Iron Slugger and failing miserably. "Hit pause and ask me why I'm happy." "Can't. I'll break my concentration." "I'm not wearing a shirt." He jabbed at the pause button and whirled to look at her. She was, of course, wearing a shirt. "You know, one of these days that's not going to work," he said disappointedly. "Ask me why I'm happy." "Why are you happy?" "Because Riley just called. He called me just to tell me he loves me." Buffy's smile could have guided an airplane down a runway. "That's why I'm happy." "That's what you interrupted me for?" Xander asked. "If London is overrun with the undead, it'll be your fault." "Come on, be happy with me!" "I'm thrilled. Really. It just looks like I'm completely uninterested." "At least be a little happy." "I'm happy," he said sincerely. "Honestly. Congratulations on having a boyfriend who loves you. Can I get back to my game now?" "Fine." She watched as Xander un-paused and renewed his assault. Moments later, Sir Dan's limbs were knocked away. "Ahhhh, nuts," Xander said, switching the game off. "So...what's up?" "Nothing much." Xander got up and stretched. "Anya call back?" "Anya no call back." A couple of days ago, out of sheer frustration, he'd managed to track down the beach house on Cape Cod where Anya and her roommates were staying and left a message. No response. "I'm sorry." "Don't be sorry. I'm cool. You ever have one of those feeling where you're pretty sure it's going to be a good day?" "Every once in a while," Buffy agreed. "Hey, that reminds me. Did you see Willow this morning?" "Yeah." "Did she seem upset at all?" "Yeah, a little. Why?" "I just got the idea from talking to Tara that they had a fight or something." "Uh huh. And is that why you think you're about to have a good day?" "It's a factor," Xander replied with a smirk. "Xander--" "Buffy, I'm sure what you're about to make is some sort of plea to be a reasonable human being in this weird, twisted, unspoken-sexual- tension thing Willow and I have going, so lemme cut you off and say that's exactly what I have been doing and what I intend to keep doing, but if Tara's managing to screw up the relationship on her own, then I say I have a right to get a little enjoyment out of that." Buffy blinked. "Actually, I was just going to say 'don't be a jerk.'" "Duly noted," Xander said. "And you don't have unspoken sexual tension." "We do too!" "You really don't." "You weren't there last night when we were washing dishes together. We ended up having a water fight. Sparkage, baby, sparkage." "Uh huh."
"I see," Giles said as Willow finished her story. "Well, um...I'm certainly not a psychologist by any stretch of the imagination, but it sounds to me as though Tara has problems with intimacy." Willow blinked. "Of course she does. That's what I just told you." "Yes, but you didn't use those words." "That's just silly anyway. How can she have problems with intimacy? We're intimate! We're two intimate people!" "I, um, I realize that the two of you have a...a close relationship..." "I mean, we lay naked in each other's arms every night, but she can't tell me anything about her family?" Giles froze, coffee cup halfway to his lips. Willow blushed slightly. "So are you trying to erase that picture from your head?" "Er..." "You're not going to file it away for future use, are you?" "If we could return to the portion of the conversation that doesn't make me stammer like a cartoon pig...different people have different ideas of what intimacy is. It's entirely possible for someone to share their-their-their body with another, but be unable to share the details of their life." "I know," Willow said mopily. "It's just...I don't want her to keep things from me. I don't want her to lie to me. I don't want..." She trailed off. "You don't want to find her in bed with someone else," Giles finished. "It's silly." "It's not silly. But Tara isn't Oz." "I know. The question is, who's Tara?"
The empty bottle of tequila lay at his booted feet. His head rested on the table and he snored loudly, the sound reverberating off the walls of Willy's Alibi Room. Willy himself was watching with amusement from his post behind the bar. Aside from the drunk, the place was empty--not that odd for this time of day. So when the Slayer stepped inside, it didn't worry him as much as it might have any other time. "Hey," she barked. "I need--" "Sssshhhh!" Willy hissed, pointing at the drunk. Buffy looked and shrugged unconcernedly. "So?" she asked. "I don't care if I interrupt his beauty sleep." "No," Willy whispered. "Look at the sunlight." Buffy did. A ray of light fell upon the table. It moved towards the sleeping figure's hand ever so slowly. "Ahhhh," Buffy said softly. "Got it. Listen, I just need some information. I've heard that some vamps are responsible for the break- ins downtown." "Yeah," Willy replied. "From what I understand, it's this new guy. They call him the Deadfather." Buffy blinked in disbelief. "They do not call him the Deadfather." "Would I make a thing like that up? This guy used to be a soldier for Don Mercutio in LA, got himself bit, and now he thinks he can run things Mafia-style." "Please be kidding." "Hey, at least the guy can dress. Suits like that never go outta style." "The Deadfather," Buffy said, shaking her head. "Heard about any jobs?" "Yep. Tonight. A couple of his boys were talkin' about hittin' some dance club on the outskirts of town." "There isn't any dance club on the outskirts of town." "Sure there is. That's where all the ti--all the nudie bars are." "They're going to hit a nudie bar?" "Guess so," Willy said, craning his neck to see how the sunlight was doing. It was very close now. "Hey, isn't that where that, um...that guy nudie bar is?" Buffy asked. "The Stable?" "I wouldn't know," Willy replied. "So how long's he been here?" Buffy jerked a thumb in the direction of the sleeper. "Since last night. He got into a brawl with a couple of Othos demons." "Did he win?" "He's not in a cocoon with an egg sac in his chest, right?" As he spoke, the sunlight touched the exposed skin of the sleeping figure's hand. The hand immediately burst into flame. Spike, screaming in pain, shot out of the seat. He swore furiously, headed for the bar, and did the first thing that made sense--he jammed his hand into a jar of pickled eggs. The fire extinguished with a hiss, leaving Spike to pant for breath. "That's...a hell...of a way...to wake up." He frowned at Buffy. "Christ, Willy, you'll let anyone in off the street, won'tcha?" "Well, he let you in," Buffy replied sweetly. "I guess we know he has no standards." "All right, all right," Willy shouted. "It's too early for this crap. Beat it, both of you. You got what ya came for." "Yeah, yeah, yeah," Buffy muttered. "See you around." "Hmmmph." Spike held his head. "Oh, God. Could I get a shot for the road, mate?" "Yeah, all right," Willy said. "Whatcha need?" "Blood of the dog that bit me." He took the shot glass full of blood and tossed it down without tasting it. Instead, his head was abuzz with what he'd just overheard...and the hangover, of course. So. Someone organizing the vampires. Could be interesting...
Joyce Summers adjusted the portrait for the third time and stepped back to get a good look. "Polly," she called out to her assistant. Polly was young, just out of college, and her wardrobe reflected that. "It's straight," Polly replied as she walked over, her voice echoing off the gallery's walls. "I know, but..." Joyce cocked her head. "It looks crooked." "It's not. Honestly. I had one of the construction guys from the other wing come in here with a level. It's perfectly straight the way it is." "All right, all right. So what do I have today?" "You've got that meeting with the curator of the Ross Gallery, and...that's pretty much it." She looked at her employer with a hopeful smile. "So are you coming tonight?" "Tonight?" Joyce searched her memory. "Tonight! Right! The, uh, thing." "The bachelorette party," Polly said patiently. "Are you coming?" "Oh, Polly, I don't know. It's been...my God, it's been a decade since I've been to one." She took a moment to feel ancient, then pressed on. "Besides, I barely know the bride, I don't have anything in common with your friends..." "Do you like naked men?" Polly asked. "I remember them fondly." "Do you like fruit drinks?" "Sure." "Then that's all you need!" Polly said. "Come on, Joyce. You desperately need to get out more. I can't remember the last time you joined anyone else here for drinks after work." "I..." She gave up. "You're right. You're right! Okay. Sure. I'll be there. Do I need to bring a gift?" "No, just plenty of singles." "What's the bride's name?" "It's..."
"Samantha?" Willow handed her co-worker an order form. "Did you get an order for a book called Fool On The Hill?" "Oh, yeah," Samantha replied, reaching under the counter. "Right here." She handed Willow the book. "Hey, are you coming tonight?" "To..." "My bachelorette party!" "Oh, that's tonight!" Willow smiled at Samantha, who was about six years older and almost a foot taller. "Wow, I'm sorry, I almost forgot..." "That's okay," Samantha replied. "You wanted me to remind you, you said you might be occupied or..." "Right," Willow replied. Actually, she'd thought that she might be doing something with Tara that night. But now... "No, I'll be there. Um...where's there?" "It's called..."
"...the Stable," the vamp said, handing Paulie Vecchio, aka the Deadfather, a picture of the establishment in question. "The place is packed damn near every night. Almost does as good a business as Benny's All Girl Revue up the road." The Deadfather was silent for a long moment as he sat behind his desk. He had taken this waterfront office by force from its previous owners, a couple of low-rent players who did some smuggling for the Rodolfos. He looked at his henchvamp placidly. "So why don't we just hit Benny's?" he asked. "Well..." The vamp, who called himself simply Al, paused. "See, Benny and the undead community have an arrangement. For twenty percent, we don't mess with his business and we don't eat his dancers." "Right. What's this Stable, then?" "Beefcake joint. Kinda like a Chippendale's place." The Deadfather looked at Al in confused disgust. "Lemme get this straight. I can't get a decent cuppa coffee in this town, but the titty bar trade is booming? What kinda town is this?" "It's a Hellmouth," Al replied. "Christ," the Deadfather muttered. "What's their take like?" "They gotta be clearin' ten a week." "Izzat all?" "It's not bad for our first job," Al replied. "You gotta remember..." "I know, I know," Vecchio replied tiredly. "I'm the new vamp on the totem pole. Well, let's see if we can change that tonight."
The towel was too small by far, and barely afforded him the necessary coverage when he tied it around his waist; it left a slit along his hip as he stepped out of the bathroom into the hall. Which meant it wasn't the best garment to be wearing when he bumped directly into Willow. "Whoa! 'Scuse me," Xander muttered, grabbing the towel and making sure it stayed in place. "Hey," Willow replied. "Tara wanted you to call her." "I tried. She's not at work." "Oh." He looked at her. "Something wrong?" "No. Nothing at all. Except Tara has some double life that she refuses to tell me about. I mean, how can she--" She stopped and looked at him. "Um, could I have this conversation with you when you're less nude?" "Huh? Oh. Right." He started edging towards his room. "I'm working tonight, but I'll be back later." "Working," Willow commented. "At your job. Which you also refuse to tell me about." "Will--" "Are you sure you're not a cocaine mule?" she asked, a little desperately. "Because I would understand if you were!" "I'm not a cocaine mule, Will." "Okay." She paused. "Do you work for big tobacco?" "No." "Are you a veal farmer?" "Will." "Just tell me!" Willow said. "It can't possibly be any worse than any of that other stuff!" "It's not, but..." He blushed. "It's embarassing. Very, very embarassing." "Why? What could possibly be so..." She trailed off as she remembered what Xander was wearing. Or not wearing. "Never mind. Go make clothes be on you." "Interesting sentence there, Will." He stepped inside his room. "Talk to you tonight." "Yeah. Sure." Willow walked to her room, annoyed and sad. At least there were cheap drinks in her future.
"They're going to what?" Giles asked incredulously. He and Buffy sat at his patio table. "Apparently, the, um, Deadfather is going to hit a strip club. I've been checking around...you know, I never knew how many nudie bars there are in this town." "Yes, but just try and find a decent cup of tea..." "Anyway, as far as the outskirts of town goes, Eden's closed tonight for fumigation...and Ew. Funkytown had a fire last week, so they haven't reopened yet. That leaves Benny's and the Stable." "Hmm. Well, I would suggest--" "--staking them out? Good idea," Buffy said. "Glad you thought of it." "Um...yes," Giles said. "So. You contact the others, and--" "No!" Buffy said. "No. I, um, I think we can handle this by ourselves. Besides, Xander's, um, working tonight and he can't come, and...Willow...um..." "Yes, perhaps you're right," Giles said. "I saw her earlier. She might be too distracted by this Tara problem to be of much use to us." "Sounds plausible." "What?" "I mean, you're right," Buffy said. "Okay. We'll wait for sundown and check 'em out." "Together or..." "I think you'd attract a little too much attention at the Stable," Buffy said, smiling. "And I don't want to go back to Benny's anytime soon." "Why not?" "They offered me a job." "Really!" "Not that I would discourage anyone from pursuing that as a summer job, of course," Buffy said quickly. "Because it works for some people. Just not me." "Yyyyyyyes," Giles said. "Your point is well taken." "Fine." She smiled again. "Riley called." "And how is he?" "He loves me." "Ah."
Night fell on Sunnydale, as it almost inevitably did. Outside the Stable, a blocky building without windows, several cars began to pull up. Samantha, Willow and three other women hopped out of one. "Ready to party?!" one of them asked Willow. "I am! I am very much ready to party. Woo!" she added by way of emphasis. Then she noticed a familiar face getting out of a minivan. "'Scuse me..." She walked over and tapped the older woman on the shoulder. "Mrs. Summers?" Joyce turned, shocked. "Willow? What are you--uh--I'm here for a party." "Me too," Willow said, a little embarassed. "I mean, I wouldn't just come here on my own." "Oh, of course! Me either!" "Hey, you guys made it!" Polly said, as the group from Samantha's car joined them. "Joyce, you know Samantha...this is Jacey, Stephanie, Kim, Julie, and...sorry, we haven't been introduced." "Willow," she said, shaking Polly's hand. "Hi. And I actually know Mrs. Summers already!" "Call me Joyce, please. Seriously." She turned to Polly. "Willow's my daughter's best friend." "And she works with me at the bookstore," Samantha added. "Whoa," Polly said. "That's a big wacky coincidence, all right. Let's talk about it inside where the naked men are." The group moved inside, leaving only the cars...and the figure watching from the bushes.
"Hey, X." Xander looked up to see one of the other dancers, a guy whose name seemed to actually be Rod. He was sitting in the backstage dressing room, flipping through a magazine. "Packed house tonight." "Great," Xander muttered. "They're not rowdy, are they?" "Oh, yeah," Rod replied. "There's a bachelorette party down front. Which means..." "Oh, no. Not the tux." "'Fraid so. Dunphy wants you to do it." Dunphy was the guy who owned the Stable; if Louie DePalma had a shorter, meaner brother, it'd be Dunphy. Still, he paid well. "Right," Xander replied. "What's the lineup tonight?" "Lemme see," Rod said, reaching into his jeans pocket and pulling out a piece of paper. "Okay. First Kyle does that Beach Boys thing...I do Genie in a Bottle..." Xander winced. "Sam does Beast of Burden... Joey does the fireman bit... and for the grand finale, you do Wedding Guy." "I gotta get a real job," Xander said. "You won't find a real job that pays like this, man." "Yeah, yeah...I'll be right back. I'm gonna check out the house."
Buffy made it past the Stable's bouncer and tried to find a place to sit. The room was small and packed, with a long runway serving as the room's centerpiece. There was a large group of women up front, all of whom were drinking various tropical concoctions. She was about to turn away to check out the bar...then something made her take a second look. "Oh. My. God." She didn't know whether to be amused or embarassed. Probably both. She walked towards the party, wondering what she was going to say... "...so then he had the nerve to say to me that this Ross guy wanted fifty percent of the box office receipts!" Joyce was saying as she approached. "I mean--" "Excuse me," Buffy said in her mother's ear. "AHH!" Joyce turned around, shocked. "Buffy! What on Earth are you doing here?" "What am I--what are you doing here?! You do realize that naked men are going to be dancing in front of you, right?" "Yes, I have been made aware of this." "Hey, Joyce," Polly called out from across the table. "Who's your friend?" "Buffy, this is Polly, my assistant, who invited me to this bachelorette party," Joyce explained. "Polly, this is Buffy, my daughter, who was just about to explain to me why she's here." "I am here because...of my job," Buffy said carefully. She sat in the empty chair next to Joyce. "Your job?" "My job. My nighttime job. Making deliveries," she said, making little staking motions for emphasis. "Making...do you think you're going to have to make a delivery here tonight?!" "Probably not, but I might have to. Don't worry. If I do, there won't be any trouble for anyone else." Polly had listened to this entire exchange with a growing look of confusion on her face. "Wow," she finally said. "You must be really dedicated." "You have no idea," Buffy replied. "If any of you have to go the bathroom, I wouldn't recommend the facilities here. Hey, you're in my--Buffy?" Buffy's eyes widened as she turned to see Willow standing there. "Willow?! What are you doing here?" "Oh, I was invited," Willow replied sagely. "So now I'm here for all the naked stuff and the drinks. Except I can't have any drinks. So basically I'm just here for the naked stuff. Were you home earlier? Did Tara leave any messages?" "What? No, no. Sorry." She stood, allowing Willow to sit down. "Look, there's a chance that I might have to make a delivery here tonight." "A delivery?" "Delivery," Buffy said desperately, making the stabbing motions again. "Ohhhh. Why? What's the matter?" "It's--look, I can't get into it. It's complicated. Just stay here. Relax. Watch the strip--no! Don't watch the strippers! In fact, you go home. You're too young to be looking at this sort of thing!" "What?! I am too!" "No you're not," Buffy said, tugging on Willow's arms. "Your innocence will be bespoiled if you stay here a moment longer!" "Get off!" Willow cried, yanking her hands back. "Look, if there's going to be a delivery--" Stab, stab-- "--here tonight, I should be here to help." "You guys are dedicated!" Polly said. "And if not...well then, I just want to enjoy the party. You're welcome to join us!" "Uh...I can't," Buffy said. "I have to go..." A movement from the stage caught her attention, and she was Xander's face peeking out from behind the curtain. She waved furiously for him to hide. "I have to go. Backstage. Yes! Backstage! To make a delivery! Excuse me!" Joyce and Willow watched her scamper away, headed for the back door. "You know, call me kooky," Willow said, "But it's entirely possible she wasn't telling us the whole truth there." "You don't say," Joyce deadpanned.
Giles winced as he sipped his drink. The tonic tasted like it might have been introduced to gin at some point, but it certainly wasn't a close friendship. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. The thumping bass of Benny's sound system was getting to him. On stage, a young woman was giving the most unarousing striptease he had ever witnessed. She twirled around on the stage's pole and tossed her bra away, allowing her admittedly prodigious breasts to bounce free. He found himself thinking of Olivia and wondered if that was a good or bad thing. Luckily, he didn't have time to follow up on that line of thought; a man in a black suit, wearing a white tie on a white shirt, took a table near his own. Two large men in the leathers he'd come to associate with Sunnydale vampires flanked him on either side. That had to be the Deadfather. "Bloody stupid name," he muttered as he took another sip. As he watched, the Deadfather pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number.
"Mmmm. Jussasec." Al took a deep swallow and placed a hand over the wound he'd made in Sam Stankowitz's neck. "Yeah, whatcha need, boss?" "Is everything ready?" Vecchio said in his ear. "Yeah," Al replied. "Big house tonight. There'll be plenty of receipts and plenty of food." "Excellent. Whattayou, snackin' already?" "Ahhh, I caught this guy comin' in," Al said, looking down at the lifeless eyes of his victim. "Bet you wish you'd come in early, huh?" "Don't get too full," Vecchio replied. "So, what, an hour?" "An hour's good. Gets 'em nice and liquored up before we move in." "Right. See ya then." Al pocketed the cell phone and checked his watch. Plenty of time to finish his snack, hide the body and be long gone by the time Vecchio got there. He dipped his head back down to Sam's neck. "Mmmmmm..."
Let's say that you open up your credit card bill and find out that you're $2,000.00 overdrawn on charges you didn't make. While receiving a phone call from your girlfriend telling you that she's pregnant. While riding an airplane that loses all four engines at twenty thousand feet. That's how terrified Xander was when he saw the assembled members of the bachelorette party. The first thing he noticed, of course, was Joy--Buffy's mom, Mrs. Summers, don't call her Joyce--Mrs. Summers. That had given him a nasty shock. Dancing--stripping for Buffy's mom? That was gonna be quite the awkward-fest. Then Buffy had come in and he'd found himself growing angry; she knew he worked here, what the hell was she doing there? But after seeing the staking motions she was making, he'd guessed that she was on the job. Then Willow had come to the table. The blood drained out of his face and attempted to escape via his feet. His heart did its best to explode inside his chest. He barely got back behind the curtain when he saw Buffy frantically waving him away. He leaned against a wall and slid slowly to the floor. Okay. Escape plans. There had to be one. There weren't any windows he could jump out of, and Dunphy would be guarding the back door. He could tunnel out! Yes! That was it! Dig a tunnel to the outside! That'd work! That'd-- "Get outta my way, you midgety pig!" Buffy cried from the backstage door. Xander got to his feet and ran to the source of the voice, where he found Dunphy attempting to block the girl's way. "I toldya," Dunphy said from behind his cigar, "No one's allowed back here! Yer gonna have to wait for the beef on stage, get me? Beat it!" "Look, you little--" "Whoa!" Xander said, jumping in. "Whoa! It's okay, Dunphy, she's with me!" "She can't come back here!" Dunphy cried. "She has to," Xander said, gently pushing Dunphy out of the way. "It's an emergency." "What the hell kinda emergency is it?" Dunphy asked angrily. "Uh...secret emergency," Buffy said. "That's not--" "Dunphy!" Xander yelled. "Drop it, all right? Just give me a couple of minutes!" Dunphy glowered at them, but finally nodded. Xander led Buffy back to the dressing room. He poked his head inside and made sure the coast was clear before shoving her inside. "What...what...what?!" he sputtered, waving his hands furiously. "Okay," Buffy said soothingly. "Calm down." "Calm down?! Willow's in the audience! She's going to watch me dance! I'm going to have to strip for an audience that Willow will be in!" "Xander, I think a vampire gangster might try to rob this place tonight." He looked at her in frustration. "Buffy, can't you focus on something important? Willow's going to see me dance!!" "Hey, my mom's going to see you dance too." "Yeah, but...but Willow! She's gonna see me stripping and, and, and..." "And what?" "She'll lose all respect for me! She'll see that I've sunk as low as I possibly can! She'll pity me, for God's sake!" He sat in a chair and lay his head in his hands. "I am so screwed..." "Look, just calm down!" Buffy said. "Can't you go home or something?" The door to the dressing room opened. A muscular man wearing nothing but a thong was standing in the doorway. "Hey, Xander, Dunphy says if Sam doesn't show by Genie In A Bottle, you're gonna have to do the next number." "Aw, sh--okay. Thanks, Kyle." "No prob." He gave Buffy an appraising look. "Hi." "Hi," Buffy said briefly before turning back to Xander. "Okay. Can't go home. Um..." Buffy shrugged. "I got nothing." "Join the club," Xander muttered. "Maybe...maybe this won't be so bad." "Explain to me how." "Maybe the vampires will attack before you go on!" Xander looked up hopefully. "You think so?"
The vampires didn't move as they watched the woman onstage fondle herself. Neither did the humans. They all shared the same look of fascination and hunger. All, that is, except for the new arrival who walked up to the Deadfather's table. "Oi, Yer Holiness," Spike said, standing beside their table. "How's it hangin'?" "Kill him," Vecchio said, his eyes not bothering to move in Spike's direction. Henchvamp #1 got up and took a swing, and quickly found himself on the floor, Spike's boot on his neck. "I was wonderin' if we might talk," Spike continued as if nothing had happened. Henchvamp #2 leapt over the table and grabbed for Spike's throat. Spike grabbed the vamp's arm by the elbow and twisted it violently. The vampire screamed in pain as the elbow dislocated, and fell to the ground, moaning. Nobody else was paying them any attention...except Giles, of course. "Could we talk?" Spike asked as politely as he could. "Take a seat," Vecchio said, finally giving Spike a look. "Nice work, that. You probably know that kung fu shit, right?" "Learned it from a Chinese master," Spike replied. "Good ol' Yuen. Not bad for a hopping vampire. So...I hear you're the Big Bad now." "The what?" "The Big Bad. The boogieman. The cappuccino di tutti cappuccinos. We get 'em here, you know. Lots of wannabe supervillains who think they can end the world or some such nonsense." Spike pulled a pack of smokes out of his coat and removed a cigarette. "Had the job myself for a bit. But that's neither here nor there." Vecchio's eyes narrowed as he glared at Spike. "What do you want?" "Me? I just wanna hear your intentions is all." "My intentions." "Yeah. What's your deal? World domination? Despair of the multitudes? Anything like that?" "And what business is it of yours?" Spike took his time lighting his cigarette. "It's my business because I'm sick and tired of megalomaniac losers thinking they can come into my town and do anything they want. Look, aside from the Slayer, vamps have it pretty good in this town, lots of humans, lots of magical artifacts to play around with, nice an' convenient to the mouth of Hell--" "Aside from the what?" the Deadfather asked. "All right, you!" Henchvamp #1 had wrested himself free of Spike's boot and was now behind him. He grabbed Spike by the hair and started dragging him towards the door. "Time to teach you a lesson--" He leaned down to Spike's ear. "Play along." "Oh, I like to play," Spike growled, his game face appearing. He slammed an elbow into the henchvamp's stomach, breaking his grip. He whirled around and kicked the henchvamp in the stomach, sending him stumbling out the door. Giles was on his feet in seconds; he ran outside expecting to see a vampire brawl in full tilt. Instead, he found Spike and the henchvamp...talking. "...I mean, do you believe this guy?!" the henchvamp was saying. "Do you believe that suit?!" "I know, man," Spike said, smiling. "I could barely keep a straight face talkin' to him." "Spike?" Giles called out, his hand on the crucifix in his pocket. "What happened?" "Oh, it's the librarian. Giles, me old china, this is Jeremy." "Hey, didn't I try to kill you at that high school thing last year?" Jeremy asked. "Uh...probably, yes," Giles replied. "What is all this?" "I was just explaining to Spike here that he was getting in the way of our plan," Jeremy said. "Your plan?" "Get the Slayer to take out that big dumb side of beef in there," Jeremy replied. "Come on, do you think we want to take orders from someone that thick? He calls himself the Deadfather, for cryin' out loud!" "So they worked out this plan," Spike added. "Two of them do a lot of talking in Willy's joint, word gets to the Slayer, Slayer defeats evil vampire crimelord, and everyone walks off into the sunset. So to speak." "Ah," Giles said. "So this is going to happen here, is it?" "Nah," Jeremy replied. "It's that beefcake joint, the Stable. Hey, where is the Slayer, anyway?"
"I'm gettin' bugged drivin' up and down the same old strip, I gotta find a new place where the kids are hip..." The music was terrifically loud. So loud, in fact, that the ring of the cellphone in Buffy's pocket was impossible to be heard. As The Beach Boys' "I Get Around" blared over the speakers, Kyle--Thong Guy, as Buffy couldn't help thinking of him--was tearing his way out of a Hawaiian shirt. She sat next to Willow, who seemed bored. "Hey," Buffy cried out to her under the music. "Whatsamatter?" "Nothing. I'm fine. Woo!" "I'm doubting that Woo." "I know, but...I don't want to get into it now. It's a Tara thing." "Ah. Okay." Buffy checked out the door; no one coming in. "What was it like when you found out Angel was a vampire?" Buffy blinked. That had come out of nowhere. "Uh...pretty much nightmarish and traumatic. Why?" Pause. "You don't think Tara's a vampire, do you?" "No, no, I've seen her in the sun. It's just...she doesn't tell me anything about herself, you know? It makes me wonder if she's got something to hide." "Will, just because Tara's a private person is no reason to assume that--holy COW, will you look at that thing!" Her attention was briefly focused back on Thong Guy...then she turned back to Willow. "Uh...before I so rudely interrupted..." "I know, I know," Willow said. "Trust her, talk your problems out, blah blah blah fishcakes." "...What?" "Never mind." Willow raised her eyes to Thong Guy's gyrations. "I bet his girlfriend is happy." "If he has--oh, dear God," Buffy moaned as her mother reached up and tucked a twenty into the aforementioned thong, to the wild approval of the bachelorettes. "This is terrifying." "She's just having fun." "I know, but...ew." "Well, if you've got any money in your pocket, you could just horrify her back..."
Xander watched through the window as Buffy tucked a bill into Kyle's thong. He shook his head. Well, at least someone was having fun. Joy--Buffy's mom was laughing hysterically at the spectacle. Willow... Willow looked bored. Of course she's bored, you moron. She's not into naked men anymore, remember? "Started out like such a nice day," he murmured as he stepped back from the curtain. "Wonder what happened." "Whatcha say?" Rod asked. He was waiting expectantly at the entrance to the stage, wearing an outfit that was entirely comprised of shiny fabrics, stitched into a turban, vest and parachute pants. "Nothing. Just trying to figure something out." "'Kay. Wish me luck!" "Break a leg." As he spoke, Kyle came running offstage, bills jutting out of his thong from every direction. "They're a frisky group," he said. "And there's a couple of really cute chicks down front!" "You don't say," Xander muttered. "Harris!" Dunphy was coming up behind them, roaring. "Get inta costume! I can't find that creep Stankowitz anywhere." "Yeah, all--waitasec," Xander said. "His costume isn't gonna fit me!" "Then pick another one, I don't care," Dunphy said. "Just be ready to dance!" "Right. Sure." He thought. Costumes...there were a lot of costumes back--The light bulb clicked on over his head, and he rushed to the dressing room.
"Willow," Samantha said. "Stop not having fun." She was yelling over the extended mix of "Genie In A Bottle" that the guy onstage was dancing to. "Have a drink!" "Samantha, I'm having fun. I'm just having low-key fun." "This is a strip club! This isn't the place for low-key fun!" "I'm fine, all right?" The song ended and the stage was cleared. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just not in the mood for this kinda stuff, you know? My mind's occupied." "Yeah," Buffy replied. "And it shouldn't be. You're dwelling." "And why aren't you? What about that delivery you were gonna make?" "That what?" "Delivery!" Stab stab. "Ohhh. Well, I'm waiting to hear from Giles on that..."
The two girls on stage were gyrating against each other to a techno beat. The audience watched silently as one of the women ran her hands through the other's hair and brushed their lips together tantalizingly. Giles was not immune. He briefly considered calling Buffy again, see if she was answering...then one of the dancers began sucking on the other's nipples. We watched, fixated, unaware that the Deadfather and his henchvamps were getting up to leave.
"...but I'd say if it hasn't happened by now, then--" "AllrightLadiesABigHandFerRod," Dunphy shouted over the speakers. He spoke just slow enough to be understood and just loud enough to make everyone wince. "NowPutcherHandsTogetherFor..." There was a short pause. Then, they could just hear an amplified whisper. "What the hell's he wearing?! Uh, PutcherHandsTogetherFer...Jungle Jim!" Buffy held her breath. This was it. The moment she'd been dreading. The moment when Xander's nighttime job was revealed. The moment when... ...when a man in a gorilla suit bounded through the curtain. The music started; it was the Rolling Stones' "Beast of Burden." Gorilla Guy--Xander--started swaying in time to the music. I'll never be your beast of burden, My back is broad, but it's a-hurtin', All I want is you to make love to me... He started by taking off the hairy gloves, peeling them off slowly. The audience, who didn't know quite what to make of this yet, began to voice their approval. "Well, that's...different," Willow said in her ear. "I guess," Buffy said, laughing with relief. That was pretty quick thinking on Xander's part. Now he had his back to them, unzipping the back of the gorilla "shirt." "I wonder what he looks like under..." She trailed off as Xander turned around, his bare chest exposed. He twirled the "shirt" over his head and tossed it over his shoulder. The crowd shrieked its approval. Am I hard enough? Am I rough enough? Am I rich enough? I'm not too blind to see... "You were saying..." Buffy asked. "Huh? Nothing. Never mind." Buffy looked over her shoulder and saw that Willow was staring, transfixed, at Xander. "Cute guy, huh?" she asked. "Ssssshhhh," Willow ssshhhed. On stage, Xander had unzipped the "pants". He suddenly shoved them down to the ground, revealing a black Speedo beneath. "Whoa," Buffy murmured. He'd be cute if he weren't all Xander-y under that mask. She looked at her mom and saw to her horror that she was moving forward, money in hand. Around the table, several women had cash out, trying to entice Xander closer. "Oh, dear God..." "Buffy?" Willow tapped on her shoulder, her eyes never leaving Xander. "D'you have change for a twenty." "No." "That's okay," Willow said, waving the bill in the air. "Woooooo!" She cried. "Right here! Money!" Xander looked in their direction as Joyce slipped the bill into the side of his suit. He turned away, moving in time to the music, allowing Polly to stuff a bill down the back of his Speedo. He managed to not jump when she goosed him on the way out. "Hey!" Willow called out. "This is a twenty right here! Come on!" Slowly, almost reluctantly, he danced towards them. He stayed out of arm's reach as he moved seductively. "Uh...Willow, maybe--" "What?" "...Never mind," Buffy said. What could it hurt? It's not like she could see under the mask. "Come on!" Willow said. "Little closer!" Xander inched closer. I'll never be your beast of burden, I'll never be your beast of burden, never never never never never never never me... When he was close enough, Willow reached out, grabbed the waistband of the Speedo, and eased the bill inside carefully, being sure to make plenty of skin-to-skin contact. She was surprised to see some...she decided to term it "movement" down there. She looked up into the gorilla mask with a sly grin. Which quickly disappeared. The eyes...she looked into the dancer's eyes. They looked so familiar, almost... She sat back down and looked at him again. That Speedo, was that...and his stomach looked...and was that a scar on his left calf? Yes, yes, it was, a scar that looked like it might have been caused by falling into an old piece of glass in his backyard when they were eight and playing "Capture the Flag"... "Oh. My. God." She stared into his eyes in complete shock. Xander, sensing this, moved away very quickly. Samantha started stuffing a bill into his suit. "Hey!" Willow cried out before she knew what she was doing. "Don't do that!" "Why not?" Samantha asked. "Because...um...no reason. Never mind." As the song ended, she got to her feet. "I need to be where air is...excuse me..." She ran for the door, Buffy right behind her.
"A gorilla suit?!" Dunphy yelled as Xander got offstage. "Don't ask," Xander replied, pulling off the gorilla mask. "Just...don't ask." "Whatever," Dunphy growled. "You ready, Joey?" He spoke to another young man who was clad in a fireman's outfit. "Yeah, all set. Hey, you looked good out there, Xander." "Thanks," Xander said as he walked to the dressing room. All he could think of, however, was what had just happened. He'd been made. She's recognized him, he was sure of it. He gingerly plucked bills from his suit and tried to figure out what to do. The dressing room didn't have any rafters, convenient bottles of pills, handguns or knives. Damn. There was Plan A down the drain...
The two women were still grinding against one another, their tongues practically tied in a knot by this stage, almost unmindful of the incredibly aroused audience watching their every-- "Hey." "Hmmm?" Giles looked up to see Spike standing over him. "Weren't you meant to be watching the deadfellas there?" "The--" He whirled towards the Deadfather's table. It was empty. "Oh, bloody hell!" He stood up and started fumbling for the cellphone Buffy had given him. "I've got to stop them. You--" "You go ahead," Spike said, his eyes on the stage. "I'll, um, catch up." As Giles walked away, he took a seat as he stared at the dancers. "Mmmm..."
Willow was leaning against one of the cars outside when Buffy found her. She was staring at the ground, her arms folded. "Willow?" Buffy asked carefully. Willow looked up. "Hey," she said with a casualness she did not feel. "Sorry about that. I, um...I was just trying to convince myself that..." She laughed. "You know, when I talk it out, it sounds ridiculous. That couldn't possible have been--" "It's Xander, Will." "...oh." Willow nodded. "Well, that just makes sense. Last to know again." "Oh, come on, you can't take this personally. Look, if you worked here, would you tell anyone?" Willow said nothing. "So, uh...you gave him that whole twenty, huh?" Willow laughed quietly. After a moment, Buffy joined her. "And he sure seemed to enjoy...um. Well." She took a deep breath. "Well, that's got to be the weirdest thing that'll happen tonight." "I wish you hadn't said that," Buffy replied. She was looking at a pair of approaching headlights. The cellphone in her pocket began to beep; she brought it out and answered it. "Let me guess," she said acidly. "He's coming here?" "It's not my fault," Giles said defensively. "Right. How many?" "Three of them. Buffy, you need to know some--ing. Th---- fath---" Giles' voice was replaced by a hissing noise. Buffy rolled her eyes and pocketed the phone. "Need some help?" "You might want to get inside," Buffy said, pulling a stake out of the back of her pants. "This is less scary." They watched as the limosuine pulled up. One of the henchvamps got out of the passenger side door and opened the back door. Out stepped the Deadfather. "So," Buffy said, fingering the stake. "You must be the Vampfather." "Deadfather!" Vecchio yelled. "Who the hell are you?" "I'm the Slayer," Buffy said. "The what?" Vecchio looked at the henchvamp. "What's she talkin' about?" "Uh...you don't know what a Slayer is?" "Hell, no," Vecchio replied. "And what's more, I could give a rat's, you get me? I'm sick a you weirdos tryin' to muscle me out of my fair share of this town. I'm Paulie Vecchio! I'm the guy that whacked Sammy Valentine in Chicago! Sammy Valentine, you unnerstand what I'm sayin'? I'm--" Buffy rolled her eyes and threw the stake. It imbedded itself in the Deadfather's heart. He looked down in shock, then looked back at the Slayer. "But--" And with that, he dissolved into dust. "Thanks!" the henchvamp said brightly. "What?" Buffy asked, confused. "You have no idea what it's been like to have to listen to that moron for the past week. 'I'm Paulie Vecchio, I'm a big man.' Jeez! It almost makes me wish that Frankenstein-lookin' guy was back!" "You...wanted me to stake him?" "Absolutely," the henchvamp continued. "I mean, the guy had no class at all, orderin' people around, shoutin' all the time...I worked for the Mayor for a little while. Now that guy was the goods. Real polite, too. I--" He noticed the look on Buffy's face. "I go now." He scurried inside the limo, which peeled out very quickly. They watched it go in some confusion. "Huh," Willow remarked. "That was easy." "I don't believe this," Buffy moaned. "I need a non-alcoholic beverage with an umbrella in it." "Wait, there's another car coming..." Giles' car came screeching up. Giles, looking flustered, popped out. "I'm here! I'm here! What's going on?" "Dead bad guy," Buffy said. "Oh. Excellent. Well, um...oh, hello, Willow. What are you doing here?" "Having an extremely strange night," Willow replied. "Well, since the Vampfather is dusted, I guess we're done," Buffy said. "You wanna come inside? My mom's getting liquored up and Xander's stripping." "I..." Giles stared at her blankly for a moment, then rubbed his eyes. "Was it strictly necessary for you to tell me that?" "Come on," Buffy teased. "She gets friendly when she's been drinking." "Thank you, no," Giles said firmly. "I'm going back to the cl-- home. I'm going home. I'll see you tomorrow." "Okay." They watched as Giles drove back in the direction he'd come from. "Ready to go back in?"
"Psssst!" Buffy was backstage again, trying to attract Xander's attention. He stood by the stage entrance, wearing a tuxedo--well, a breakaway tuxedo, anyway. He looked in her direction and walked over. "Hey," he said. "What's the story?" "Um...well, no vampire attack's coming." "Damn!" Then, off her look: "Which is how they pronounce 'oh, that's good, lives will be spared' in my home country." "Uh huh. And Willow's still out there." "Oh, crap. Does she know?" "She recognized you," Buffy said. "Saw right through your monkey boy disguise." "Great." "She knows you very well, Xander." "Yeah, well, at any other time I'd find that flattering and heartwarming, but right now it just terrifies me." He mopped his brow. "And now I've gotta go out there with my real face all showing and stuff..." "Xander," Buffy said soothingly, "Just...I don't know. Be yourself." "Right. Sure." "HeyLadiesIsEveryoneHavinFun?!" Dunphy yelled over the speakers. A wild cacophony of noise issued forth in the affirmative. "I'd better get back out there," Buffy said. "You're, uh...you're gonna watch?" "You think I'd miss this?" She tossed him a wink. "Not a chance, Jungle Jim." "Thanks for your understanding, Buff." "Xander? Lighten up."
Buffy hopped into her seat and began going through her pockets for bills. Willow raised an eyebrow at this. "And what do you intend to do with those?" she asked. "Oh, I don't know," Buffy replied. "Why? Was there something you had in mind?" "You're enjoying this!" Willow said, shocked. "You're enjoying this whole terribly awkward thing!" "No! No. No. Okay, a little. Come on, I've been sitting on this secret since he moved into the house. I'm just relieved that it's all out in the open." "IUnnerstandWe'veGotABachelorettePartyInnaHouse," Dunphy yelled. Much woo-age from their table. "Well,We'veGotALittleSurpriseForYa. PleaseWelcomeYerBachelorFerTheEvening,XANDER!" The curtain parted, and the tuxedo-clad Xander emerged, much to the delight of the party. "Oh, God," Willow murmured. "Not the tux." The song was a rocker with a medium beat, the Smithereens' "A Girl Like You." Xander grabbed the lapels of his coat. For a dangerous moment, he found Willow's eyes and couldn't read her expression... Ah, screw it. Might as well go down in flames. He slipped the coat off, tossed it over his shoulder, and started to seriously work it. I used to travel in the shadows and I never had the nerve to try and walk up to you... He made eye contact with each of the bachelorettes in turn; he particularly savored the look of absolute shock on Joyc--Buffy's mom's face. Buffy was cracking up at the whole thing...and Willow was just staring. Well, let's give her something to stare at. He tore the shirt off, the bowtie flying off somewhere into the audience, and threw it to Willow. She caught it, and a smile finally began to form on her face. He turned his back to the audience, moving in time to the music... I'll say anything you want to hear I'll see everything through I'll do anything I have to do Just to win the love of a girl like you A girl like you... The pants were designed to tear away with one tug. He ripped; they came away easily, and he turned back to the bachelorettes, triumphantly twirling them over his head. He began to dance closer to the bachelorettes... "Gimme some money," Willow said to Buffy. "What's the magic word?" "Buffy!" "Close enough," Buffy said, handing her some singles. "You see what he's doing, right?" "Dancing in nothing but a Speedo? I noticed that." "He's trying to shock me." "Is he?" "He's making eye contact with me and daring me to be shocked by this." Willow stood and beckoned Xander closer. He danced towards her as nonchalantly as possible, wondering what was coming next. A slap or a tickle? He was completely unprepared for her to shove her handful of bills down the back of his suit and cop a feel on her way back out. She gave his ass a little smack and sat back down. "Just wait til I get you offstage, young man!" she yelled over the music. He blanched slightly. She smirked at him as he continued his dance.
It was not long after that when the bachelorette party broke up; hugs were exchanged and taxis were called, one of which was commanded to bring Joyce Summers home. "Ooookay, Mom," Buffy said, bundling her mother into the cab. "Just a little further." "I don' feel so good," Joyce murmured. "Well, I told you to loosen up on those Long Island Iced Teas." "Buffy? Was that your friend up there, doin' the naked dance?" "That's him, mom." "Oh." She slipped into the cab. "Well, you should go out with him. He's got a fabulous body." "I've got a boyfriend, Mom." "How's his body?" "Better than Xander's...and Ew!" "G'night, honey," Joyce said as she slumped in her seat. "Call me when I get home!" "Uh huh." Buffy closed the door and thumped on the roof of the cab; it pulled away, leaving Buffy alone with Willow. "So are we heading home now, oh Designated Driver?" Buffy asked. "Actually, why don't you take my car," Willow said, handing her the keys. "I think I'll get a ride home with Gypsy Rose Xander." "You're not mad, are you?" "No, not mad. Not actually mad. A little mad. Mad enough to go torment him for a little while." "Uh huh." Buffy took the keys. "Your car's an automatic, right?" "Yes, it still is." "Okay." She turned to go, then stopped. "You know, Will, my mom's right. He does have a great body." "Go home, Buffy!"
He opened the door of the dressing room, wearing his street clothes. Naturally, Willow was there waiting for him. "Hi," he said. "Hi," she replied. Long, uncomfortable silence. "This is the part of the evening where you smack me in the head, isn't it?" Xander asked. "I wasn't planning on it, but now that you mention it..." She lashed out and cuffed him on the side of the head. "I was worried about you!" "I know, I know..." "No, you don't know! I thought you were, I dunno, running numbers for the mob or you'd started running a cockfight!" Out of respect, he decided against the dozen or so jokes that sprang to mind. "I told you not to worry," he said. "Every time you asked, I told you not to worry!" "Yes, because that's what you do," she said. "When you used to come to school with black eyes, you told me not to worry. When you didn't have lunch money for a week, you told me not to worry." "I'm sorry." "Why exactly did you think you couldn't tell me?" Willow asked, folding her arms over her chest. "I...I don't know! I thought you'd be embarassed or ashamed of me or something." She looked at him for a long moment. Then, she reached out and cuffed him again. "Hey!" he cried, just as she threw her arms around him. "Do you really think you could ever do anything to make me ashamed of you?" she asked, looking up at him. "Well...yeah." "Look at me." He looked at her, almost falling into those green eyes. "You're my best friend," she said. "Period. Not 'my best friend as long as he doesn't embarass me,' 'my best friend unless he screws something up,' just 'my best friend.' Got it?" "Uh huh." "Good." She stepped away from him. "You people with all these secrets, I swear." "What do you mean?" "I mean, everyone's been keeping something from me! You with this, and Buffy with...well, with this...and don't even get me started on Tara. I just wish you'd all tell me what's on your mind." Don't, he immediately thought, but his mouth started moving anyway. "Well, maybe...maybe what we have on our minds is, you know, uncomfortable-making, and if we told it to you, you wouldn't want to deal with it." "Oh, come on," Willow replied. "What could be as bad as all that?" "Something...bad." She looked at him quizzically. "Xander, is there something you want to tell me?" Don't, you idiot, don't! "No," he said. "I mean...there's something I don't want to tell you." She smiled and took his hand. "Xander," she said. "You can tell me anything. You know that." "Yeah, I can. I just don't know if I should." "Is it important?" "Pretty important." "Is it something I should know?" "...Maybe." "It can't be that bad. Just...you know, tell me." No no no! "Okay," Xander said, pulling her into the dressing room. He closed the door. "You, uh, you might wanna sit down." "Must be big," she said, taking a seat. "Wow, so this is where the stripping magic happens, huh?" "Yyyyyeah. So...okay. Okay." He took a deep breath. "This is complicated. Um...all right, you know how...uh...you know how sometimes you have a favorite food, and--no, wait, that's not what I wanna say. I..." He looked at her, sitting there, looking at him attentively, the light shining off her hair... Look at her, his mind screamed at him. She has no idea. How can you tell her this? "What is it?" she asked. How can I not? "I'm in love with you," he said. It took a moment for her expression to change. She blinked; her jaw dropped slightly. She sat up in the chair, clearly trying to understand what was just said to her. "Do you want me to keep saying things?" he said. "Because I might be able to explain that better--" "You're in love with me," she said. "Yes. I am...I have loving feelings for you. I think about you all the time. And when you look at me, even with that look of complete shock and dismay on your face, my temperature rises and my hands start to shake a little." He swallowed. "So that's what I wanted to say." She stood up. She slowly walked over to him. She looked up into his eyes. "Say that again," she said. "The whole thing?" "The main point." "I'm, uh...I'm in love with you." She searched his eyes carefully. "You mean it," she said wonderingly. "Of course I mean it!" he said indignantly. "You--how could you tell me that?!" she shrieked angrily. "How?! Why?!" "You--you told me to! You said that you wanted me to--" "I didn't mean this!" "Look, I was going to keep this to myself, I mean, I've been sitting on it for, like, months now--" "Months?!" "But, but, but I was going to keep my mouth shut because I thought I'd hurt you again and you were so happy and stuff! And then you came here, and..." Xander shook his head miserably. "I just wanted to be honest with you." "Oh, God," Willow said, beginning to pace around the room. "Look, this isn't that bad!" Xander said, following her. "It isn't?" "No! It isn't! I mean, if somebody told me they were in love with me, I'd be kinda flattered--" "I don't believe this," Willow said, sitting back in the chair. "I just don't believe this." They were silent for a moment. Xander crouched by the chair. He reached out and raised her chin until she was facing him. "This isn't your problem," he said. "It's mine. You didn't ask for this and I'm not going to force you to deal with it. I'm not going to make demands or ultimatums or any of that nonsense. You've got a girlfriend. You're happy. And I'm not going to jeopardize that. "But I don't regret telling you. I do love you. And you should know that." She looked at him, her expression unreadable. "Where were you in high school?" she asked quietly. "The principal's office, mostly. I was stupider then." "Oh, Xander," she said. She reached out, tenderly caressing his face. "I...I don't know what to say." Say you love me. "Just say we're okay," Xander said. "We're okay," she said. "We're okay." "Good." Neither of them made any attempt to move. "Say it again," she whispered. "I love you," he replied instantly. It felt so good to say it; the words sounded right. They even tasted right. Before she knew what she was doing, she'd moved forward and was kissing him, and then he was kissing her back. His hands were on her head, her mouth was full of him, and the taste of him was so sweet... She gasped and moved backward. "I shouldn't have done that," she said. "I'm sorry," he replied. "I helped." They stared at each other, and for a single horrible instant it was the night before homecoming again, and she was going to say that damn F-word... "I...I need a ride home." "I'll take you. I live there too." "Yes! Okay!" She stood up. "So let's go." "After you," Xander replied. She walked to the door, then turned back, shaking. "You...you're a really good dancer, Xander." "Thanks." He watched her walk ahead of him and follows, lingering on the taste of her in his mouth.
"Hi!" Willow said altogether too chirpily as she walked into the house. "You got home all right! That's good! Well, long night. Gotta get some shut-eye! Ni-night!" She ran up the stairs, leaving Buffy to stare after her. A moment later, Xander walked in and crashed onto the sofa. "What's with Willow?" Buffy asked. "Full disclosure," Xander replied. "Of what?" He raised an eyebrow in response. "She knows?!" "She knows." "How?" "She asked me," Xander said. "Well, she didn't come out and ask the specific question, but she asked leading questions." "And you told her." "Uh huh." "And yet...I don't see you being all tormented and stuff." "Well, I'm not," Xander replied. "It, uh...it felt really good to tell her how I felt." Buffy nodded. "So what happens now?" "Beats me." He picked up the PlayStation controller. "Riley called again." "How's he doing?" "He still loves me." "Good for you," Xander said with a smile. "All in all, it turned out to be a pretty good day, don't you think?"
Considering the sensory overload of the past few hours, all Willow wanted now was a long, long sleep. She walked into her room and clicked on the light. Tara was lying on the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest, bare feet poking out from beneath her long skirt. "Tara?" Willow whispered. Tara opened her eyes. "Hey," she said. "What are you doing here?" "I...m-my mother and father don't get along," she said. "They f- fight all the time. I d-don't hear from them m-m-much." "Okay," Willow said, nodding. "Wh-when I t-talk about it, I...ssssstart to g-get af-f-fraid. It's not that I d-d-don't want to t-tell you about it..." "Tara," Willow said. "It's okay. You can...you can tell me when you're ready." "Okay," Tara said. "D-do you wwwwant me to g-go?" "No," Willow replied. "Let's just sleep." She clicked off the light and pulled off her smoky clothes, listening in the dark as Tara undressed. She slipped beneath the covers, found her lips, and kissed her goodnight. She didn't stop thinking about Xander for the rest of the night.
I know it isn't fair But nothing's ever been, Hey, when you look at me, baby My God, I feel so good again I don't know where I went wrong But it isn't right to lie Hey, when you look at me, baby, My heart's wide open, Naked to the eye. --Mary Chapin Carpenter
All of this is copyright Joss Whedon, except the stuff that isn't.
