Touching Willow

Part Three

DEDICATIONS: Between parts two and three, a whole
lotta people got involved, bless their hearts.

To my trusty beta-squad of Vic, Jen, Dot and Meg, who
can always be counted on to yell at me when I overuse
phrases like "a bit" and to make fun of me for mushing
up the joint. I'll finish the Herne thing one of these
days, I swear.

To Jewel, for emailing at the right time to get me writing
it again, and for assuring me the second to last draft
didn't suck like I thought it did.

To poor Mandy-Sue, who hopefully has managed to avoid the
clutches of the evil Jodie and keep her head long enough
for me to finish this thing.

To Jodie, for being enough of a fan to threaten her cousin's
teddy bear with decapitation to get me to finish the story.
Not that I support that kind of thing, of course, but it
was sweet.

To everyone who's told me how much they enjoyed the series
so far, and to everyone who voted for me in the Starring The
Zeppo awards. Always good to know some people enjoy reading
this stuff as much as I enjoy writing it.

And finally, and always, to all my friends.

I woke up twice during the night. The first time was because
Xander woke up and moved a little. I opened my eyes just wide
enough to see him in the moonlight. I watched him watching me.
We'd moved apart while we slept so I was no longer lying on
his chest, but we were still holding hands. That's what Xander
was looking at, our hands entwined together. He just stared at
them for a long time, then he smiled and went back to sleep.

The second time was right at dawn. I wake up at dawn most
days, then go back to sleep. I think it must be a Slayer
thing, serving notice that the vampires are out of action
for another day. I watched Xander sleeping in the sunlight
of the brand new day. He was still smiling, and I knew that
he'd been sleeping well, that he hadn't had any nightmares
at all. I moved over to rest against his chest and he tightened
his arm around me without waking. I glanced up and his smile
was even wider. As I put my head down on his chest and let
his heartbeat lull me back to sleep, I knew that smile was
one of the most wonderful gifts anyone had ever given me.

When I woke up later on, the clock said it was a little after
eight. I looked up to make sure Xander was still sleeping
and then just lay there in his embrace. It felt good. It felt
warm and safe and happy and good. It occurred to me that it was
the first time I'd ever gone to sleep in a man's arms and woken
up the same way.

I was surprised I didn't feel the pain thinking about Angel
usually summons up. I knew it was because I was with Xander.
He always said that he never felt any pain when he was with
Willow. The way she cared about him drove it all away. It was
pretty amazing to know that he could do the same for me. Amazing
and warm and safe and happy and good.

Hopefully I could return the favor. But the thought brought me
up short. I realized that I just didn't know if Xander realized
how much I cared about him. How much I loved him. I guess he knew,
but I'd never said the words. It's hard to tell someone that sort
of thing, and the history between Xander and me made it even
harder. But that was no excuse. I figured I'd just have to come
right out and tell him. I resolved then and there to tell him as
soon as he woke up and to make sure he always knew it from then
on. It felt good to make the resolution, made me feel like a real
friend or something. I was looking forward to it.

As if on cue, I felt him stirring beneath me. I moved to look up
into his face as his arm left my shoulders to rub at his eyes and
hair. Finally, after a long yawn, he opened his eyes and stared
blurrily down at me.

"Good morning, sunshine!" I couldn't help it. I felt like Mary
Poppins, I was so happy.

"Mrrgh." That actually wasn't too bad for Xander in the morning.
Sometimes on our sleepovers it would take him ten or fifteen
minutes to get to the point where he could vocalize. He was
nothing compared to Willow, of course, but then few are.

I realized I was getting away from the whole point, which was
to tell Xander as soon as he woke up. Of course, he wasn't
exactly awake yet, so I had to fix that first.

"Xander, wake up." Oh yeah, that did it all right. He
just squinted at me again.

"Urrgh."

"Xander!" Now I was getting exasperated. I shook him a bit
and finally got some real words.

"Leggo." Well, close to real words anyway. A few more shakes
got us the rest of the way. "Buffy, I know you're the Slayer
and all, but if you don't let me go back to sleep I'm gonna
kill you and hide the body in..."

"You know I love you, right?" I figured if I didn't cut him
off we'd be there all morning. Xander's murder threats are
always disturbingly well thought out, from method to disposal
of the body to clean getaway. It's best to stop him before he
really gets going.

My little interjection did the trick. His mouth snapped
closed and his eyes popped open and he just looked at me
for a second or three. He looked into my eyes and I looked
into his and I knew I'd said the right thing when his eyes
crinkled and his trademark goofy grin took over his face.

"Yeah, Buff, I know. I love you too."

I felt my own smile widen into the grin that Xander always
says lights up the room. It felt good that he knew this one
was just for him. I smiled at him for a few more seconds and
then put my head back down on his chest and pulled his arm
around me.

"Good thing you do, or I'd have to hurt ya." His answering
laugh made my smile even wider and I wondered why the heck
I hadn't told him sooner. Ah well, spilt milk and all that.
I put it out of my mind. "What do you want to do today?"

He took a second to mull it over. "Well, staying in bed
with the gorgeous blonde would be choice number one on
my list."

"Ha. I say again, ha." I poked him in the ribs. "What do
you want to do today?"

He didn't answer for a minute or so as he stretched the
kinks out of his arms. Finally he looked back down at
me and shrugged. "I don't know, nothing's coming to
mind. Breakfast?"

I laughed. "I should have known. Okay, breakfast it is.
Do you want the shower first?"

"Nah, you go ahead, let me just lie here some more."

So I got up and gathered some clothes together and went
and took a shower. I wasn't gone that long, but I was
still surprised that Xander hadn't fallen back asleep
by the time I got out. Instead he practically jumped
out of bed and headed in to take his own shower.

Instead of waiting for him I decided to head downstairs
and get started on breakfast. I was thinking waffles.
You can't go wrong with waffles, and I actually know
how to make them, which is always a plus. I'm not the
best cook, to put it mildly, so I tend to stick with what
little I know.

When I got downstairs I found a note on the table. It
was from Mom, of course. She'd gone in to the gallery
to talk to a potential buyer, but she'd mixed up some
waffle batter for us first and put it in the fridge.
Have I mentioned lately how great my mother is? The note
also told me to take care of Xander and give him an extra
hug from her.

So when he came downstairs a few minutes later I stepped
away from the waffle iron and hugged him tight. I guess
I caught him by surprise because it took him a second to
squeeze back.

After I let him go I said "That was from Mom."

That brought a smile to his face. "Your mom's a good
hugger."

I smiled back. "Well, I've always thought so."

We didn't say much after that until the waffles were
ready. We really didn't say much while we ate either.
It was nice. Normally we're both chatterboxes, it was
good to know we could be quiet together too.

I helped Xander wash the dishes. There weren't that many,
of course, but I still made sure he knew what a sacrifice
I was making. I'm not entirely sure he gave me the proper
amount of appreciation for my efforts though, unless blasting
someone with the spray hose is a sign of respect in his
culture. Just in case it was, I made sure to return the
compliment. Never let it be said that Buffy Summers can't
adapt to the strange ways of foreigners and/or weirdos.

After we'd dried off we meandered into the living room and
collapsed on the couch.

"Do you want to talk about Willow?"

He shook his head. "No. Not yet, okay?" His eyes were
pleading. I couldn't say no.

"Okay then, something else. What do you want to talk about?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Seen any good movies lately?"

I smiled. "Yeah, I saw that new Tom Cruise with Willow
last..." I broke off as I realized what I'd said, and
grinned sheepishly at him. "Sorry."

He smiled back, and there wasn't even all that much pain
in it. "S'alright. How about TV? You still addicted to
Days Of Our Lives?"

That brought the smile back to my face. "You know it."
The look of smug superiority in his eyes got my dander
up. "Hey! What's with the holier than thou eyes? Don't
think I've forgotten that one time when you regaled us
all with tales of your own Days addiction over lunch.
Giles told me he still wakes up in a cold sweat remembering
that."

His grin widened but grew a little shameful. "Well, you
have to remember there were extenuating circumstances
there. I mean, Satan was a recurring character that summer,
fer cryin' out loud, you can't beat that with a stick. And
it's all Will's fault anyway. She made me watch it, suckered
me in with those big puppy-dog eyes..." Now it was his turn
to break off. He chuckled, real humor laced with pain. "This
isn't going to work, is it? All roads lead to Willow."

I nodded sympathetically. "I'm thinking maybe. So do you
want to talk about it?"

He sighed and leaned his head back. "Yeah, I guess. It
just hurts, Buff. After we got caught in the factory, it
felt like my heart had been ripped out. And that was just
starting to not feel so painful, me and Will were getting
back to being okay, and now this. I don't know if I can do
this again." He closed his eyes, and I knew he was trying
to keep from crying.

I probably shouldn't have asked, not then at least. But
we needed to get it all out in the open. And we both
needed to know.

"You love her, don't you?"

He didn't open his eyes, he didn't move, he didn't do
anything, just lay there with his head on the back of
the couch. "Of course I love her. She's my Willow." He
said it like I'd just asked him if the sky was blue, and
I guess I had. But that's not what I meant.

"No, I mean you're *in* love with her."

"Of course I'm in love with her. She's my Willow." Same
tone of voice. The sky is blue. Oh shit.

I just looked at him for the longest time. I could not
get my brain to work or my mouth to open. In my defense,
this was big. Very big. Huge, even. I mean, I'd always
figured he was in love with her, but I never thought
*he* knew it. It was the only explanation I could come
up with for why everything had happened the way it had
the past few years. But he knew?

Finally he opened his eyes and turned to look at me, a
small, sad smile on his face. "Cat got your tongue?"

"Wha... How... WHEN?!" It was the best I could do, and to be
honest I'm proud I managed that much. I took a deep breath
and willed myself to calm down. "When did you fall in love
with her? And why was I not informed?" I tried to play the
question off as a joke, but the truth was I was hurt. This
was something Xander should have been able to tell me. Or
tell someone, anyway. And since I knew he'd never told
Willow, I was the next choice.

His smile widened, but I could tell he wasn't really happy.
Or not only happy, maybe that's what I mean. His eyes lost
focus as he thought back. "When? First day of kindergarten.
We were both five, I guess."

This should have floored me even more than the fact that he
loved her at all, but I didn't let it. I was way too busy
thinking through the implications. "That was the day you first
met, wasn't it?" Willow's told me about that day several times.
Gushed about it would probably be more accurate. Xander nodded
without speaking, with that same bittersweet smile. "You're
telling me you've been in love with Willow for over twelve
years?" Nod. Smile. Silence. I swear it took all my self
control not to throttle him. "And it happened the day you met
her. So it was love at first sight?"

Finally he spoke. "No, of course not. Love at first sight only
happens in movies, Buff. Not in real life. Love takes time, it
needs to be nurtured with shared experience and trust. I didn't
fall in love with Willow for at least an hour, probably two."
His smile and eyes were still sad, but now they also held more
than a bit of the infamous Xander mischief, famed in song and
story. It was so good to see that back, even just a little,
that I decided not to kill him. I tell you, if they gave out
Nobel Prizes in refraining from justifiable homicide, I'd have
been a shoo-in.

I twisted my mouth into the best ferocious scowl I could manage.
I doubt I did a good job. I said, "So you're telling me love
takes time and nurturing, but with Willow it happened in an
hour or two?"

He nodded, his smile never wavering. "I suppose it usually
takes longer, but this is Willow we're talking about."

I had to give him that, and I nodded absently as another
thought occurred to me. "Angel told me he fell in love with
me the second he saw me."

Xander shook his head. "He couldn't have." He ignored my hurt
look and went on. "I'm sure he was attracted to you at first
sight, but he couldn't fall in love with you until he met you
and got to know you. I'm sure it took at least an hour, probably
two." He turned to me and now his smile was pure mischief and
love, no pain at all. "'Cause this is Buffy we're talking about."

I had to duck my head at that, but I know he saw my shy smile.
I couldn't believe how good that made me feel, and I had to tell
him. "You know Xander, you're a great friend and you usually say
the right thing. But every once in awhile you say the absolute
perfect thing. I think you must be the coolest guy who ever lived."

He nodded his head sagely. "I am in fact the coolest guy who ever
lived. I've even got business cards." He made a show of checking
his pockets. "Damn, I must've left them in my other pants."

I laughed at that and scooched over on the couch to rest my head
on his shoulder. As he put his arm around me and pulled me tighter,
I sighed. "Do you really think Angel loves me? I never thought
you believed him."

I felt his chest move as he nodded. "I still doubt a lot of things
about Angel, but I do believe he loves you." He didn't say anything
else, though I'm sure he wanted to. He really is the coolest.

I decided it was time to change the subject back to Willow though.
No sense pushing our luck. "So you've been in love with Willow since
two hours after you met. How'd that happen?"

Now I felt him smile. "Do you want the long version or the Reader's
Digest version?"

"Gimme the long version." Having heard Willow's side of it, I knew
it would be worth it.

He was quiet for a minute, getting his thoughts together. Finally
he spoke. "I'm thinking I should tell you what my life was like
before I met her, but that's not easy to do. I don't remember it
all that well, really. I mean I was old enough to remember and
all, that's not it. But everything before Willow is kind of blurry,
like there's no point to remembering if she wasn't there with me.
I know I wasn't happy. My folks weren't as bad as they are now."
He paused as I squeezed him tight. Calling his parents bad is the
understatement of the year, and I could hear the pain in his
voice when he mentioned them. But that wasn't the pain we were
trying to deal with, so he just squeezed me back and went on.
"They weren't that bad back then, not really. But I didn't have
any friends, no real ones anyway. And no family either, except
Rory. I mean, yeah, he makes up for a lot but he wasn't there all
the time. So I wasn't happy. But I didn't know I wasn't happy."

I looked up at him, hoping he'd explain himself. He smiled
down at me. "That's what life was like, is all. Life was being
alone. I didn't know any better. Until I met Willow." His eyes
went all dreamy, wistful. "It was the first day of kindergarten,
like I said. I was scared as hell, Buff. I wanted to cry, but
I'd already figured out that was a bad idea." He trailed off
at that. I squeezed him again. It seemed to help. He shook his
head clear and kept talking. "I was scared, and I knew it was
gonna be horrible, but my mom was trying to convince me it was
going to be okay. She even brought me to McDonald's for breakfast.
She was trying really hard, but I wasn't buying. But she tried,
I'll give her that."

He moved, getting more comfortable, and I moved with him, keeping
myself close. He needed the support. He was quiet for a few seconds.
I didn't say anything, didn't rush him. Finally, "She walked me
inside to deposit me with all the other kids. It was a madhouse,
Buff. The teacher was new, I guess, and she had her hands full. A
few of the kids had already spilled the paint and all of them were
running around screaming. Mrs. Beemer was the teacher's name, she
was trying to talk to the parents and gather up the kids at the
same time. It wasn't working, as you might imagine. I just stood
there and hid behind my mom's leg. God, I did *not* want to go
in there."

I felt him smile again. He smiled with his whole body, if
that makes any sense. Which it doesn't. One second he was
sad and lonely, reliving his fear from years before. The
next second he was happy, as happy as he's ever been. Just
like that. That's the best I can explain it. I knew what he
was going to say before he said it.

"And then I saw her. The first thing I saw was her hair.
I caught a flash of red and whipped my head around. I
thought there was a fire or something, I really did. But
it was her hair, it was the sunlight coming in through
the window and hitting her hair. It was so beautiful, and
for a few seconds I didn't think about anything but how
pretty she looked in the sunlight. Then some kid or other
knocked a pile of books over and the crash brought me
back to reality and I looked at the rest of her. She was
just this little tiny girl, standing there in her pretty
dress and pigtails, and she looked scared. I don't think
anyone else would have known that, but I did. There was no
expression on her face, but I could tell just from the way
her eyes darted around the room following all the other
kids that she was just as scared as I was. And that made
me less afraid. Knowing that someone else felt the same
way I did made it easier, I guess."

I turned to look at his face and arched an eyebrow.
"That seems a little deep for a five-year old, Xander."
I wasn't doubting him, but I wondered if he'd thought
about it too much over the years.

He laughed. "Yeah, it is. And it's not like I was thinking
that at the time, I just didn't feel as scared after I saw
her. I didn't wonder why. But I knew it was because of her.
She still looked scared though, and I had to help her. I had
to make it better. I swear, Buff, that had to be the very
first time I thought about doing something to help someone
else. Well, not exactly. I used to try to cheer my mom up
when she'd cry. But helping a stranger? It just wasn't a
big theme in the way my folks raised me, y'know? But Willow
was different."

He looked down at me and I nodded. "So what did you do
then?"

He smiled again, even wider. "I walked right over to her
and slipped on the spilled paint. Fell and banged my head
on the table she was standing next to." That got me to
laughing, and he chuckled along with me for a minute.
"Buffy, if that classroom was acting crazy before, you
should have seen it then. Mrs. Beemer and my mom and the
other parents who were still there were all fussing over
me and trying to mop up the spilled paint so no one else
would get hurt. I was okay, just stunned for a second,
really. My eyes got all blurry for a minute though, so I
couldn't see very well. That scared me. I mean, I was only
five. I wanted to cry, and even if it was a bad idea I think
I would have, but just then my eyes cleared and I could see
again. And what do you think was the very first thing I saw?"
He looked down at me expectantly.

"Willow. You opened your eyes and you saw Willow." Even if I
hadn't heard the story from Will I'd have known that.

He nodded firmly. "Yup. She was kneeling next to me. My mom
was holding my head and Mrs. Beemer was on one side of me, but
all I could see was Willow on the other side. She still looked
scared, but now it was for me. She was worried about me, worried
that I was hurt." He stopped talking for a second, and I felt
him swallow hard once or twice. "No one except my mom and Rory
had ever worried about me like that, Buff. And she wasn't family
or a grown-up even. She was my age. It felt amazing. I can't even
describe what it felt like." He lapsed into silence again as he
searched for the words.

"It felt like friendship." I startled him with that, and he
looked down at me with a puzzled expression. I shrugged and went
on. "That's how Willow always describes the first time she saw
you there on the floor. She was worried you were hurt, like you
said. She didn't know you but she was worried. She says it felt
like friendship."

That brought a big smile to his face, and he just let it sit
there for a few seconds before replying. "Yeah, that's a good
way to put it. It felt like friendship. And it felt wonderful.
I'd never had a friend before, Buff, not really. So I shouldn't
have known what friendship felt like. But yeah, that's what it
was all right. Will was always better with words." He paused
again, reminiscing. His eyes went all dreamy.

"So what happened then?" I knew if I let him get lost in his
Willow-memories I might not see him again for hours. Maybe
not for days.

He jerked back to reality. "Well, there was much hubbub of
course, until the grown-ups were convinced I wasn't going
to die on them. The other kids gathered around for a minute
or two, but they got bored looking at me pretty quick and
started tearing the place to shreds again. Not Willow though.
She stayed there right next to me, but she didn't say a word.
It felt good, even better than Mom holding my head." He smiled
again. "Then after a few minutes I looked up and she was gone.
Scared the hell out of me for a few seconds there. I felt
abandoned, even though I didn't even know her. It felt like
someone had kicked me in the soul, melodramatic as that sounds.
I almost started crying again." His voice trailed off, and his
eyes went dreamy again and I knew I was about to lose him.

"But...?" I prompted.

He looked down at me and smiled again. "She came back just a
few seconds later. She had a band-aid for me. She told me later
her mom put some band-aids in her lunchbox that morning before
her dad dropped her off. Practical woman, Mrs. Rosenberg.
Considering how often me or Will got scraped up over the years,
I guess she had to be." He chuckled. "I wasn't bleeding, so I
guess I didn't actually need the band-aid. I just had a lump on
my forehead the size of Nevada. But Will wanted to put the band-
aid on 'cause that's what you do when you get hurt. Makes sense
to me. She had some trouble with the wrapper, I remember that.
She kinda had her tongue stuck out a little, like she does when
she's concentrating really hard. I remember my mom started to
reach for it, but then pulled her hand back. She knew Willow
wanted to do it herself, I guess. And Will finally got it open
and stuck it on my forehead. It was a Snoopy band-aid, which I
thought was pretty darned cool."

He stopped talking, and I looked up and saw that he was crying.
Just a little, but it worried me until I realized he was still
smiling. These were good tears, the kind he needed. I squeezed
him tight and he dried his tears and went on.

"As soon as she touched me the pain just stopped. It was gone,
I swear to God. She only touched me for a second to put the
band-aid on, but I didn't feel even a little bit of pain from
then on. I think if I'd been older or wiser or whatever that's
when I would have fallen in love with her, right that second.
But I didn't understand, so it took a little longer."

"How much longer?"

"An hour or so, I don't remember exactly. After Will put the
band-aid on, my mom thanked her then pulled me up and off to one
side to make sure I wasn't really hurt, and to see if I was okay
with her leaving. I was, I really was. I just wanted to know who
the band-aid girl was. I didn't even know her name yet. Hell,
we hadn't said word one to each other yet. But I needed to know
who she was. And I found out a few minutes later. When everything
had calmed down and the parents had gone, Mrs. Beemer got us kids
settled down as best she could and started putting us to work
doing whatever it is kids do in kindergarten. She sat us down
in a big circle on the play-rug and had us stand up one at a time
to tell everyone our names and how old we were. I ended up across
the circle from Will, and that's how I learned that she was Willow
Rosenberg, age five, and she learned I was Alexander Harris, also
age five. I didn't want to stand up and talk, Buff, I really didn't.
But Willow hadn't either so I knew it would be okay. And when I sat
down she sort of smiled at me a little and it really was okay."

"Alexander Harris?" I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear him
explain.

"I wasn't Xander then, not yet. She named me Xander. And that's
when I fell in love with her."

"Oh, really?" This part I hadn't heard, and neither had anyone
else.

"Yeah, but I didn't know it. I'm not the brightest guy in the
world, I don't know if you've ever noticed that." He paused and
looked over at me.

If he expected a denial, he had a long wait. "No argument here.
Just remember though, you are in fact the coolest guy in the
world."

He chuckled. "At least I've got that going for me, I guess."

"Yes, indeed. Now get to the falling in love part."

That got another chuckle out of him. "Anxious, are we?" I
nodded and gave him my best glare. He smiled back and I
rested my head on his shoulder again, convinced I'd gotten
my point across. He blew out a breath before speaking. "Okay,
where was I? Right, the Great Renaming. Well, after the
introductions, which went a whole lot smoother than you'd
expect from a pack of kids on their first ever day of real
school, Mrs. Beemer assigned us seats. There were four big
round tables. She put I think six kids at each of them, pretty
much randomly as far as I could tell. When she was done with
that, Willow and I were the only ones still standing."

He paused for a second, then snorted a laugh. "You might not
know this feeling, being a cheerleader before you were a Slayer,
but it felt just like it does in gym class when you're the last
one picked for the team. We were standing there, and all the
other kids were just looking at us. They all had seats, and
they were looking at us like we didn't belong. Like we weren't
part of them." He looked down at me, a sad smile twisting his
mouth. "Foreshadowing, huh?"

I took his hand in mine, laced my fingers through his. "I'm
sorry, Xander. It must have been horrible."

He squeezed my hand before answering. "Pretty much, yeah, but
looking back it might've been the best thing that ever happened
to me." I smiled at that. I knew what was coming, but I never
got tired of hearing it, and I'd never heard it in his words.
He caught my smile and squeezed my hand again. "Yeah, that was
the start of it. Me and Will, alone together. Mrs. Beemer was
embarrassed to all hell to have two leftover kids. You could
see by the look in her eyes she was convinced she'd just scarred
us for life or something. She sort of fluttered her hands, told
us to wait a second, and almost ran out of the room."

He laughed softly. "You'd think that the other kids would have
gone back to tearing the place apart as soon as she left the
room, right?" He looked down at me and shook his head sadly
when I gave him a nod. "This was not the case. They just kept
looking at us, like we were exhibits in a museum or something.
It was creeping me out, and I felt like I wanted to cry again.
Being alone I could handle, I knew how to do that, but having
all of them looking at me like that was terrifying. And I knew
Willow felt the same way, I just knew, and that made it even
worse somehow. I mean, she'd put the band-aid on me, she'd
helped me when I was hurt, but I couldn't help her. It was
horrible.

"And then I felt her hand in mine. I looked down and realized
I'd taken her hand without even realizing it. I'd moved my
hand towards her and she'd moved hers towards me and we'd
met in the middle. I looked up at her and I knew she hadn't
known she was doing it either. But she didn't let go, she
just smiled at me, that shy little smile she gets when she's
not sure what she's doing. And I smiled back at her, and it
wasn't as bad anymore. It was still creepy and scary, but I
wasn't alone. Oh, Buff, it made so much difference. I can't
even begin to tell you how much better it felt. I wasn't alone
anymore."

"And you were never alone again." I surprised him again with
that, but he smiled quickly when he realized where it had
come from. I nodded and said, "Yeah, that's another thing
Will told me. She said after that she was never alone again."

Xander reached up to wipe away another tear. "Yeah, that's
exactly right. We were never alone again. God, it felt good.
It was almost a letdown when Mrs. Beemer came hurrying back
in with two chairs. Mr. Johannsen, one of the janitors, was
with her. He was a big guy, Big Swede the other janitors
called him, I remember that. He was carrying a table almost
as big as the ones in the library, no idea where they found
it so fast. He set it up in the back of the room, behind
the other tables, and when he left he sort of ruffled me
and Will's hair, and smiled at us. Great guy, Mr. Johannsen,
we always liked him. He used to let us help him after school
when we were waiting for someone to come pick us up. Real
nice guy."

He shook himself out of that memory and went on. "So Mrs.
Beemer set up the chairs for us at our table. Like I said,
it was a pretty big table, we had room to spread out, but
you want to take a guess where we put our chairs?" He
looked down at me expectantly.

I didn't disappoint him. "Right next to each other."

He nodded firmly. "Damn right. Just as close as your
mom moved our chairs last night at dinner." He grinned
at my surprise. "You thought I didn't notice that, huh?"
I nodded. "Silly Slayer, Xander knows all and sees all."
He threw back his head and went into his patented mad
scientist laugh. "Mwah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-OOF!"

I polished my nails, pretending I hadn't just smacked
him in the stomach, and smiled sweetly at him as he
rubbed the sore spot and glared at me before speaking.
"Okay, Xander has to admit he didn't see that coming.
You through pummeling me?"

I nodded. "You through talking about yourself in the
third person?"

He put his hand to his chin. "Xander's not sure..."
I raised my fist again. "Whoops, scratch that, Xander's
sure." I lowered my hand and gave a satisfied nod.

"Y'know, Xander, I can't help but notice you still
haven't told me about falling in love with Willow. I
mean, yeah, that story is heartwarming and all, but
I want to get to the real mush. Am I going to have to
beat it out of you?"

That brought a smile to his face and a gleam to his
eye. "Yeah, that might work." When I laughed, he said,
"But that could keep us here all night, really. Okay,
you want to hear about when I fell in love with our
Willow?"

"Yes. Yes, I do. Spill."

"Yes, ma'am. It was an hour or so later, like I said.
After Will and I got set up at our table, Mrs. Beemer
had us making name tags to put on the backs of our
chairs. We started with just pasting some paper together,
getting them ready to write the names on. There was
much paste involved, and I don't think I'm breaking any
confidences when I say that a fair amount was ingested
by the both of us."

"Willow ate paste?" I'd never heard that part before.

"Oh my, yes. She was quite the paste-a-holic for awhile
there. Didn't completely kick the habit until third grade,
I think it was. Me, I could always take it or leave it.
A social paste-eater, if you will. I'd go to the cocktail
parties, have some paste d'oeuvres, chat up the ladies,
that sort of thing. But I controlled the paste, not the
other way around. Willow, though, Will had a problem. It
breaks my heart to think of her standing outside the school
in the rain, jonesing for her fix. The paste-pushers would
make her wait for hours, sometimes. Excuse me." He reached
up and brushed away an imaginary tear. "It still gets to
me, thinking about it. Finally I couldn't take it anymore,
I couldn't watch her destroy herself like that. We staged
an intervention, me and Will's Barbie and my teddy bear,
Senor Pepe. We told her we cared about her and we were
worried that she was hurting herself. She denied it at
first, of course, but we kept pushing her. It was hard,
and painful, but we kept it up because we knew she had to
face it, knew she had to..."

"Xander," I interrupted him.

He looked down at me, startled. He gets lost in the
bullshit sometimes. "Yeah, Buff?"

I smiled. "Purely out of curiosity, you understand, just how
long were you planning on weaving this tawdry tale of woe?"

He blinked. "Well, we're not even half-done yet. I still
haven't gotten to the painful summer she spent in the
Betty Rubble Center."

I blinked right back. "You mean the Betty Ford Center?"

"No, no, no. Betty Ford is for adults. Betty Rubble is
for kids." He smiled.

I gave him a blank look. "Where do you come up with this
stuff?"

He took a few seconds to answer. "Y'know, I'm really not
sure. Chances are we can blame Rory, though. Did he ever
tell you about the time he was kidnapped by aliens and
became the Beer-Drinking Champion of the Universe?"

I laughed. "No, I haven't heard that one."

"Well, next time he's in town I'll get him talking about
it. It's a riot. He's got a championship belt and everything.
Of course, to the ignorant eye it looks a lot like an ordinary
leather belt covered in aluminum foil, but we know better."
He paused for a second. "We also know we should be telling
Buffy about how we fell in love with Willow, shouldn't we?"

I nodded. "We should."

"Hokay. Well, we were making name tags, like I said. I can't
remember the colors, but we were pasting a rectangle onto a
bigger rectangle. Our names were gonna go on the smaller
rectangle. One would think that would be a fairly simple
operation, right?" He looked at me. Knowing a cue when I heard
one, I nodded. He went on. "One would be mistaken. You'd think
it was the last push into Berlin we were trying for. We had kids
getting paste in their eyes and their hair, kids pasting the
paper on each other, on the floor, on Mrs. Beemer, kids crying
for their mommies, kids diving behind the rubble to get away from
the machine-gun fire those damned Nazis were laying down from the
burned-out storefront down the road..."

He paused. "No, that last part was Berlin, not kindergarten.
I think. It got pretty confused for awhile there. There might
have been Nazis. I can't swear there were no Nazis."

"Illinois Nazis?" I had to ask.

"I hate Illinois Nazis. No, it would have been the ordinary,
garden-variety fascist thug I'm talking about, not the Blues-
hating, mid-West sub-species. In any case, we're getting off
track here. Pandemonium, that's what it was. Brother against
brother, a house divided shall not stand, all that fun stuff.

"Except for Will and me. We were done with our tags, well,
done with the first part anyway. We were waiting patiently
for Mrs. Beemer to tell us what to do next. Well, I should
say Will was waiting patiently. I was fidgeting some, but
at least I wasn't throwing globs of paste every which way
like Larry. And of course, when I say 'we' were done with
our tags, what I mean is Willow made the tags with a little
help from me. She positioned the paper where she wanted it
and told me to put the paste on. Like a good little Igor, I
put the paste on. They came out looking pretty darned good,
which shouldn't surprise you since you know Will. It took
Mrs. Beemer a long, long time to get the class back to
something resembling order. Me and Will, we'd finished in
the first five minutes. We spent most of the rest of the
time just watching everyone else. And eating a little paste
here and there, of course."

"Of course."

He smiled. "Well, Mrs. Beemer still hadn't gotten things
completely under control, but no one was actively trying
to kill anyone else so I guess she figured it was time
to move on to Phase Two."

I could hear the capital letters. "Phase Two?"

He nodded. "Phase Two. Writing our names on the tags. Lord
above, if making the tags was like invading Berlin, writing
names was the Airlift. Not quite as hard, but a helluva lot
more complicated. We grew up with Sesame Street, most all of
us knew how to spell our names at least. Even me, and my folks
were never too big on the whole education thing. Not to mention
Alexander isn't the easiest name for a five year old to learn.
That should really be a Z in there, if you ask me, but no one
did. Rory helped me with it when he was around. He always
called me Alexander the Great. We used to plan my conquest of
the entire known world. Rory always dreamed big. He bought me
a copy of Risk so we could use the map, but he made me promise
to give him Las Vegas and North Dakota when I was in charge.
He even taught me how to spell Macedonia, which made me pretty
much unique among my kindergarten peers. Except Willow, of course,
she could spell it too." He stopped talking for awhile and just
sat there, thinking. Finally I nudged him and he went on.

"So I could spell my name well enough, but I was a lousy writer.
I mean, you know my handwriting now?" He looked at me and I made
a face. Xander's handwriting is the terror of the Sunnydale High
faculty room. He laughed. "Yeah, well, it was worse back then. It
was okay for kindergarten, I guess, but I wanted the name tag to
be perfect. So Willow helped me practice. She wrote her name on
some scrap paper, and I'd write mine underneath it, trying to
get it to look as nice. I finally got it more or less the way I
wanted it, but then we ran into another problem."

He laughed again and I turned to look up at him. "What problem?"

"Well, it was two problems, really, both of them pretty much what
you'd expect from five year olds. The pieces of paper we were
supposed to write our names on were all the same size, of course.
Which meant that Willow could write her name bigger than mine,
since she had less letters to write. I didn't like that, I wanted
my name to be as big as hers. And Willow didn't like the fact that
my name had more letters than hers, she wanted our names to be the
same."

"So you both pretty much wanted the same thing?"

He nodded. "Yeah. And, wonder of wonders, we actually realized it.
Which is pretty amazing if you ask me. I said I could just use
Alex, since my dad called me that most of the time. That would
let me write my name big and let Willow have more letters than
me, but she didn't want that. She didn't want to have more letters,
she wanted us to be the same."

"Very egalitarian, our Will." He gave me a look. "What? Buffy havem
heap-big vocabulary."

"If you say so. But yeah, she really always was big on being fair.
She didn't want to be called Will, though I cured her of that
pretty quickly, so she started looking at my name and counting
letters. Alexan was ruled out quickly, thank God. Then she crossed
out the A, L and E at the front of my name." He turned his head
down to look at me. "I'd like to say there was a flash of light
and angels singing or something like that, but no. I kinda liked
the look of it, though. Let's face it, any name that starts with
an X is pretty cool. It reminded me of the X-Men comics Rory would
buy for me when he was in town. The problem was, we had no idea
how to pronounce it. We waved our hands in the air, and when Mrs.
Beemer came over I showed her the paper and asked her how to say
it. She looked at both of us sort of funny, but just then two kids
started fighting on the other side of the room, so she said 'Xander,
I guess,' and hurried off."

He pulled me closer to him before going on. "Will just looked at
me for a second, then she said 'Xander. That's you. You're Xander.'
And that's when I fell in love with her, right then, right that
second. And you know, I think maybe there was some angel-singing
going on. Maybe a little angel, anyway." He held out his hand
with his fingers about two inches apart.

I just didn't get it. "I just don't get it, Xander. That's sweet,
yeah, but as far as I'm concerned the band-aid and the holding
hands thing have it beat. Why was this what made you fall in
love with her?"

He thought for a few seconds before answering. "I don't know,
I really don't. Mostly her eyes, I think. The look in her eyes
when she told me I was Xander. That's when she became my Willow
and I became her Xander, when I looked into her eyes. I got lost
in them, lost in her eyes, and I don't think I'll ever find my
way out."

I let out a low whistle. "Not bad. That's some primo mush you
got going there."

He blushed a little, but smiled. "Yeah. Will can bring out the
romance novelist in me. But that's what it feels like, like
I fell into her eyes and never came out."

I nodded. I could buy that. "But you didn't know it was love?"

He shrugged. "How could I know? I was five. I didn't know what
love was, not really, at least not when it wasn't Mom or Rory.
I knew it was important, I knew we were sharing something very
important, but I didn't know it was love. I just knew that I
liked Willow a lot, I knew that I trusted her and wanted to be
with her. I knew we were going to be best friends. Hell, I barely
knew what a friend was at that point. But I knew Willow was a
friend, a best friend."

He sighed and pulled me closer, then continued. "I'd never had a
friend before, Buff. Not really. If I had, maybe I'd have known that
what I had with Willow was more than that. But she was my first friend,
so I didn't know. And she was my only friend until Jesse moved to town
in fifth grade. So for most of my life, Will was it. I knew she was my
friend, of course I knew that, but I didn't know I loved her. I thought
what we had was what friendship was, I thought everyone with friends
was the same as Will and me. I was wrong. Maybe I should have seen it
when Jesse came along, but I liked him a lot too. I wasn't as close
to him as I was to Willow, and I knew she felt the same way, but if
I thought about it I figured it was just because I'd known Will
longer. But it turns out Jesse was 'just' my best friend, and
Willow is so much more."

"What is she?"

"She's my Willow." He sighed. "When Oz first started going out
with her last year, I had a little talk with him." He noticed my
look, and said, "I did *not* threaten to kick his ass, if that's
what you're thinking." It was, but I didn't say anything, just
waited for him to go on. "I tried to tell him how important she
is to me, but I don't think I did a good job. Finally I just said
'She's my Willow. Please don't hurt her.' And that's what she is,
my Willow. But that's the same as saying she's my heart, or my soul,
or the most important person in the world. She's all of that and
more. She's my Willow." He looked at me, and I could see the fear
in his eyes. "Do you understand what I mean?"

I hugged him tight, as hard as I could without breaking any of his
ribs. "I do. Of course I do. She's your Willow, and you love her."

He let out the breath he'd been holding. "Yeah, I do, I love her
so much."

There was one thing I still hadn't figured out. "So when did you
realize you were in love with her? I mean, you fell in love with
her in kindergarten, okay, I can see that, but when did you realize
that's what it was."

He barked a short, bitter laugh. "End of last year, when she was
in the coma." It was his turn to hug me tight. It helped ward off
the chill I always get when I think about what happened then. It
all went so bad, so fast...

I shook myself out of it. Not the time. "So you've been in love
with her since last Spring, and you haven't said anything?"

He tensed up, all of a sudden, and I could tell the pain was
back. The pain we'd avoided all day, the pain he'd joked his
way around, I'd brought it back with my question. I had no idea
how to make it go away again, so I just put my arms around him
and pulled him close, pulled myself closer to him, and waited.
Finally he gave a little shiver. "Oh, I said something all right."
The pain was in his voice again, too, but it was different than
the pain from the night before. Even worse, somehow. I didn't have
time to think about it as he went on. "She was just lying there,
and it looked like she was asleep, like she'd wake up any second.
I even tried tickling her like we do when we want to get her up
before she's ready. Nothing. And I got scared. God, Buff, if I
ever lose her it's not going to be worth going on, y'know?" I
nodded.

"So I was sitting there, talking to her, trying like hell to get
her to wake up, to move, to do anything at all, and I was talking
about all the reasons she had to wake up, had to get better, helping
me with school, that sort of thing. And then I said it. I just said
it, 'I love you.'"

He paused for a second. "But it came out different than I expected
it to. I mean, of course I loved her, that was obvious, she knew I
loved her. But when I said it I realized I didn't mean I loved her
as my best friend, I meant I just plain loved her, was *in* love
with her. And all at once I knew I'd always loved her like that,
knew I was an idiot for never realizing it before. But I didn't
have time to think about it, because right then is when she woke up."

He looked at me, his eyes full of tears. "She woke up and called
for Oz, Buff. She heard someone tell her he loved her, and of
course she thought it was Oz. Because she knew I didn't love
her like that, knew I'd never loved her the way she loved me.
But I did. All along I did love her the same way, I was just too
damned stupid to know it. I was so stupid that she woke up and
called for Oz." The tears started falling, but he got them under
control faster than I liked. He needed to let them out, but I
knew he wouldn't until he was ready. All I could do was ask what
happened next.

"So what then?"

He snorted. "Nothing then. She was with Oz, I was with Cordelia.
Honestly, it was mostly okay, it really was. She was alive again,
that's what was important. And you were gone, we were all worried
about you." As he said it he squeezed me tight, like he wasn't going
to let me go. It felt nice. I hugged him back as he continued. "And
Giles and your mom, they were both nervous wrecks, so we were worried
about them too. Throw in patrolling every night and the summer
pretty much flew by."

I winced, remembering the pain I'd caused everyone. "I'm sorry,
Xander."

He squeezed me again. "S'okay, really. We know why you had to leave,
and we're real glad you came back."

I didn't really believe him, but I made myself accept it for the
moment. "Okay. So the summer went fast?"

"Yeah, it did. It really did. I mean, sure, I caught myself staring
at Will a little too much, but it was easy to make myself think about
something else."

"Like Cordelia?" I'm not sure why I asked.

He nodded. "Like Cordy. I do care about her, Buff, and I'm so sorry
she got hurt like that. And not just the pole through the gut thing,
either. She didn't deserve any of it."

I sighed. "No, I guess she didn't. Now, Harmony..."

He laughed, not much but real. "Yeah, she'd be a lot tougher to feel
sorry about. But Cordy, there's a lot to like there if you look for
it. She was good to me, and good for me, but she's not who I need to
be with, which means I'm not who she needs either."

"Willow's who you need." It was a statement, not a question. I've
known it for years. "Is that why you kissed her?"

He laughed again, more bitter this time. "Yes and no. I kissed her
because I love her, yeah, but mostly I kissed her because she was
so damned beautiful in that dress. I shouldn't have kissed her,
I know that, I knew it then even, even while it was happening I
knew I shouldn't be kissing her. She was with Oz, is with Oz I
mean, and he's good for her. But when she stepped out from behind
that screen, she was so damned gorgeous I forgot all about Oz,
about Cordelia, all about my own name even. Even then I think
I could've resisted. Or maybe not, but I could have tried. But
then we started dancing, and I was holding her in my arms, and I
leaned down and I kissed her, I kissed my Willow, and it felt
so right. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. For
about five seconds. Then we both jumped back and the Fluke-talk
started. I ran away like a little girl and I thought that would
be the end of it, I really did. I had every intention of making
that be the end of it."

He turned his head to look me in the eyes. "And she was feeling
the same way. We both knew that we couldn't kiss again, that it
would be the worst possible thing we could ever do. So, of course,
we ended up kissing again. And again. And again. God, it was
wonderful. Wonderful and painful, but never at the same time.
Whenever I wasn't with her, especially if I was with Cordy, I
felt like the world's biggest asshole. I was cheating on Cordy,
but even worse, I was making Will cheat on Oz. Every time I was
alone I promised myself that I'd put a stop to it, that the next
time I was with Willow I'd make her see reason, make her go back
to Oz where she belonged. But every time, we ended up kissing.
Every time it was so wonderful that I forgot to make it end. Every
time, I failed her." He closed his eyes to keep back a fresh crop
of tears.

"It's as much her fault as yours, Xander." I hated to see him
beat himself up like that, and it really wasn't all his fault.

"I know that. My brain knows that, anyway. But I've never been
one to listen to my brain. The rest of me, my gut and my heart
and everything in me that I think with, the rest of me knew it
was my fault. I should've been strong enough to stop us before
anyone got hurt." He sighed and opened his eyes and in them I
saw love mixed with the pain. "But I'll tell ya, Buff, I can't
hate myself too much, not really. I don't think anyone could
have been strong enough to stop kissing Willow. And I'm only
human. I didn't have a chance."

His face darkened. "But neither did Cordy or Oz. God, putting
that pole through her stomach was merciful compared to the pain
I saw in their eyes when they found us. And Will took it even
harder. Me, I'm used to screwing up, hurting the people I care
about, but Will, she'd never hurt anyone like that before. So
I understood when she freaked out. I didn't like it, but I
understood. Or I tried to understand, maybe that's a better
way to put it. I tried to understand why she wouldn't even
look at me anymore, why she avoided me like the plague. I
tried to understand why she went back to Oz."

"Oh, Xander..." I knew the pain he'd gone through then, I
went through it myself every day with Angel. Knowing we
belonged together but knowing it could never be. But at
least I didn't have to look at him with someone else every
day. I didn't even want to think about which must've hurt
more, knowing Angel loved me but not being together, or
watching Willow love someone else, so I turned back to Xander.
"I'm so sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't be. She's better off with Oz, she
really is. He can be what she needs, he can be better for her
than me." He saw the skeptical look in my eye and went on
before I could say anything. "Really, Buff, I really believe
that. I love Willow, all I want is for her to be happy. And
right now, at least, what she needs to be happy is Oz.

I couldn't say anything. Oz was good for her, yes, but Xander
was better. But I knew he wouldn't listen, so I didn't bother.
Instead, I concentrated on at least getting them back to where
they'd been. "So how are we going to get you and Will back to
friends again?"

He looked at me like I'd missed the point, and shook his head
again. "We're not."

My head jerked up at that. "What? What are you talking about?
You two are going to be friends again, Xander, you're going to
get over this. You have to."

He shook his head again, more harshly this time. "No. It's
over. I thought we were on our way back to being friends,
and I swear that would've been enough for me, I would've made
it be enough. And we were doing good, we really were, we were
almost back to normal, after everything we'd been through,
everything we'd put each other and everyone else through, we
were almost back to being friends again. And now this. I touch
her hair and she freaks out again. It's over."

I didn't understand, I didn't understand at all. "How can you
say that? You're going to throw away a lifetime of friendship
because she freaked out?"

"Not throw it away. I'm going to walk away. I have to."

"Why? Why do you have to?" I was getting mad. I had to hold
myself back to keep from shaking him.

"Because all I do these days is hurt her. For a long time there,
just me being in the same room hurt her, made her remember, made
Oz uncomfortable, which hurt her even more. And we were almost
over that, but I screwed it up, I pushed her further than she
could go, and now it's going to be even worse. And let's say
we talk it over, patch it up, whatever. All that's going to
happen is we'll go through the painful phase again, get back
to almost normal again, and then I'll hurt her again and we'll
be back to square one."

"That's not true!"

"It is though, it really is, Buff. I can't do that to her again.
I can't do that to myself again, if I have to see her in that
much pain again I don't think I could stand it. So it's over.
I thought we could be friends, but we can't. It's over."

I just looked at him. My anger was gone, replaced by more
pain than I would've thought possible. "You mean it, you
really mean it."

He looked back at me, and the tears were in his eyes again.
"Yeah, I mean it."

"You can't do this." I was pleading, begging, but I knew it
wasn't going to do any good.

"I have to, Buff. All I'm doing these days is hurting her.
Caring about her, wanting her to care about me, even just as
friends, it hurts her. I can't hurt her anymore, I just can't."

"That's it, then? You're going to walk away from Willow?" A
sudden insight hit me. "That's what you meant last night, when
you said you could never go home again, isn't it?"

He nodded. "Yeah, that's what I meant. Willow's always been my
home, always, ever since I can remember. When I was with Willow
I was home, no matter where we were. And now that's over, it's
gone. I don't know what I'm going to do."

My own eyes were tearing up. "How? How can you give up on
what you two have, what you mean to each other?"

"I have to. I love her, so I have to." All at once it caught
up to him, and he started choking as he tried to hold back
the sobs.

I pulled him to me, pulled his head to my shoulder and rocked
him back and forth as he finally lost control and cried for real,
sobbing the pain into my shoulder. I cried too, cried for him
and cried for Willow and cried for myself for not being able
to fix it. All I could do was hold him and let him know I was
there for him. That's all I could do, and it felt like nothing.

Finally we stopped crying, but I still held him. He moved
to get more comfortable but kept his head on my shoulder.
When he spoke, I could barely hear him. "Thank you, Buffy.
For everything."

I hugged him close and shook my head. "You're welcome, Xander.
I just wish I could do more, help you more."

He tightened his arms around me. "You've been perfect. You've
helped me so much here. I don't think I could do this without
you, I don't think I could live through this without you."

That made me feel good, but the feeling went away as I thought
about what he was planning. "I still don't think you should do
this, Xander."

He sighed. "I have to. There's no other way, not anymore, this
is the only way Willow can be happy."

"I don't believe that. And I know she doesn't believe that either,
she can't believe that." I wouldn't let her believe it.

"She does, though. I saw it in her eyes before she ran away. She
wants it to end too. I know her, Buff, know her better than I know
myself. It's too much for her, she needs it to be over, needs the
pain to stop for both of us. This is the only way."

"No matter how much it hurts the both of you?" I sat up, pulling
us apart. I was getting angry again, but I didn't even try to rein
myself in.

He moved, leaned back against the couch. "It'll only hurt for a
little while. She'll get over it soon enough. And me, well, I can
stand some more pain, I guess."

"I don't believe that, Xander. I don't accept it. I won't
accept it, and I won't let it happen."

He smiled, but it was nothing but pain. "You can't make us be
friends, Buff."

"No, but Willow can. She won't let this happen."

He closed his eyes, shutting out the thought. "She's already let
it happen, Buffy. Just like last time, just like after we got
caught." I started to say something, but he went on. "You don't
think she wouldn't have been here by now if she didn't want it to
end?"

That deflated me. He was right. Will and Xander had been on their
way back to being friends. They'd been talking, not like they used
to, but without the tension that had been between them for so long.
And she'd been worrying about him again, or letting the rest of us
know she was worrying about him again, that's closer to the truth.
She should have tracked him down to fix this by now. But she hadn't.

I looked at him, and he nodded at the pain in my eyes. "Yeah, Buff.
She wants it to end too. I saw it in her eyes. It wasn't just about
me touching her hair, that was just what set her off. She can't
handle it anymore, can't handle the pain, the confusion, the not
knowing how to act, the worrying about what Oz thinks. She can't
handle it anymore, and neither can I. It's over."

"I don't want you two to be over." I barely recognized my own voice.
I sounded like a frightened little girl.

He reached over and pulled me to him, and it was my turn to rest my
head on his shoulder as he rocked me back and forth. "I don't want
us to be over either, Buffy, I don't. But part of me does. Part of
me is tired, so tired. I just need it to end, one way or another,
and this is the way it has to be. The way it has to end, and part
of me is glad. It's going to hurt, but at least it'll be a different
kind of pain. I don't know, I'm not making any sense. But this is how
it has to be. I'm just worried about how it's going to affect the rest
of you guys."

I had my arms around him before I realized I was moving, and I pulled
myself closer to him, holding on tight, so tight that no one could ever
pull us apart. "I don't know what's going to happen, Xander. But I'm
here for you, I swear I'm here for you, and nothing's going to change
that. I'm sorry I can't do more, but I'm here for you."

He leaned down and kissed the top of my head, very gently, and when he
spoke I heard the tears in his voice. Different tears, happy tears. "I
know you are, Buff, I know. Of course I know. I don't know what's going
to happen next, but I know you're here for me. That means so much, I need
you to know that. It means everything to me. I couldn't do this without
you, Buff, I need you." His voice went soft and tender. "You're my Buffy."

That got me crying again, and he held me until I stopped. "I need you
too, Xander, I need you so much. I hope you know that." I twisted to
look up into his eyes. I had to see his answer as well as hear it.

He smiled at me through his tears. "I do know, of course I know that.
And I'm here for you too, Buff, always. We can be here for each other,
okay? You be my Buffy and I'll be your Xander, how's that sound?"

I nodded, new tears closing my throat until I swallowed hard. "It
sounds good, it sounds like what we need." And I put my head back
on his shoulder, and we both sat there holding each other for a long,
long time.

Holding each other and being there for each other.

***
END 3/3
***

Go to the Sequel - Purgatory

NOTES: Okay, it's not really over, obviously. Coupla sequels coming
y'all's way, hopefully soon. And as always, I promise a happy ending.
So Jodie, leave Mandy-Sue alone!

In other news, I found out while writing this story that I'm even
more weak-willed than I'd thought. Xander and Willow's friendship
is what drew me into the fanfic thing, and the second sequel to
this story is actually the first Buffy story I ever started writing.
But I always told myself that I'd never write a "How Xander And Willow
Met" story or a "How Xander Got His Name" story either, just 'cause
other people have already done it, and damned well too. But I'm a
weak, weak man, and here we are. Ah well.

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