E-mail:girlgoddess00@hotmail.com
Summary: Willow isn't in the greatest of moods, Xander stops by, stuff happens :)
****
"So, he's just leaving?" Buffy asked tentatively. "That's kind of sudden"
Willow nodded, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "Yeah. Apparently, touring with the Dingoes is more important to Oz than higher education," she sniffed. "And me," she added, a fresh wave of tears flowing.
"Oh, Will," Buffy soothed her friend, wrapping an arm protectively around her shoulders. "It'll be okay, you know it will."
Willow shook her head defiantly. "No, it won't Buffy. Everything was going so great, and now - I don't even know when he's coming back! *If* he's coming back! He's leaving me."
Buffy tightened her lips, staring out their dorm window into the warm mist of rain that had descended on Sunnydale. "I know what *that's* like," she said wistfully, thinking of Angel.
Willow raised her head to look in her friend's eyes. "Oh, Buffy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." Buffy nodded. "Yeah, I know," she sighed. Shaking her head, she let out a quiet, sad laugh. "We're kind of sad, aren't we?"
Willow laughed with her. "Just a little," she confirmed. Her eyes lit up suddenly. "Hey! Wanna rent angry chick movies about how much we hate guys?"
"Sorry, no can do," Buffy shook her head. She pushed herself off Willow's bed. "I may be a 'grieving widow' of sorts, but I still have to save the world from the forces of darkness."
Willow nodded. "Yeah, understood. I just don't really feel like being alone tonight. I mean, wallowing in front of the TV just seems pathetic without any company. And let's be honest; the recently dumped don't go out and party like it's - well, 1999," she laughed lightly.
"Yeah, totally gotcha." Buffy brought a hand to her chin, thinking for a moment, not noticing as Willow began to laugh genuinely for the first time that night. She looked around the room. "What? What's so funny?"
Willow pointed at her roommate. "You!" she tried to catch her breath. "That was *such* a Giles face that you just made!" she raised her own hand to her face in an imitation of Buffy. "Hmm...let's think," she mocked. "demons or vampires, vampires or demons."
"Very funny." Buffy lightly smacked her best friend. She grabbed a sweatshirt off a chair and pulled it over her head. "See, you're gonna be fine," she insisted. "Hey, why don't you call Xander up? He's bound to be able to cheer you up!" she perked, a hidden meaning quite evident in her suggestion.
Willow shook her head adamantly. "No no no no no. I really don't think of anything good coming of calling Xander."
Buffy looked at her suspiciously. "You sure? I figure if there's anything that's good for you right now, it's a little Xander time." Willow shrugged. "Well, keep it in mind, okay?" Buffy wagged a finger at her. "I want you to be happy, not all mopey cause of what's-his-face." She sighed, looking out the window at the increasing downpour. "It's too bad that vamps still get hungry when it rains." She shrugged. "Eh, well. Here I go!" she cried as she headed out the door, pulling a raincoat over her hooded sweatshirt.
"Good luck!" Willow called after her.
Buffy poked her head back in the door. "You, too," she insisted, giving Willow that do-what-we-both-know-you-should-do look.
Willow nodded at her, giving her own yeah-sure-I'll-do-it-if-you-tell-me-to look. As Buffy closed the door behind her, Willow picked a stuffed alligator up off her bed. She hugged it to her, before realizing where it came from. She pulled it close to her face and inspected it. The little googley eyes stared back at her, mocking her with memories. Oz had won it for her at a carnival that summer. Her eyes teared up at the image of him playing that stupid squirt-gun race against Buffy three times, finally winning and giving his winnings to Willow.
She put the stuffed animal down as far away from her as she could, her eyes still lingering on it. She then scanned her bed for something else that could comfort her. Her gaze passed a tiny pink giraffe, a squishy hippo, and a large, battered plush chick. She reached for the chick, smiling at the memories held within the object. It had been a present from Xander on her seventh birthday. His mother had actually bought it - one of the only times she'd performed a motherly deed - and Xander had been as surprised as
Willow when she opened the gift. They had both been on a Chicken Little kick since reading the story for class...or more Willow reading the story *for* Xander for class. When she had opened the box it was in, he had grabbed at it, insisting that he 'just wanted to see it'. They wrestled over it for at least a half an hour before Mrs. Rosenberg had declared her disappointment in Xander for wanting the present he'd given to his best friend, at which he immediately withdr! ew. He never even asked to see the chick again. It had never recovered, though. A wing had been ripped off, dangling only by a thin yellow string, and the plush stuffing had been beaten so hard that it was hardly plush anymore.
Willow stared at the pathetic toy as the memories washed over her. Finally, she laughed. Or more accurately, she giggled. She giggled like she was a kid again, just messing around and having fun with Xander and Jesse like she used to. Hesitantly, she reached for the phone on her bedside table. < Maybe Buffy's right >, she thought. < Nobody can cheer me up like Xander. > Nodding in self-assurance, she put the receiver to her ear and dialed the too-familiar number.
He answered on the third ring. "Hello?" He sounded a bit sleepy.
"Xander?" Willow asked.
"Hey, Will!" he replied.
"Did I wake you?"
He laughed. "No, actually. I was watching golf. There's never anything on on Sunday. I decided to make fun of their little pants. I was about to fall asleep, though. You'd be surprised at how funny golf isn't."
"Even for you?" she scoffed.
"Yeah, sad, huh?"
She sighed. "Yeah. Sad."
He paused, noting the sudden change in her voice. "You okay, Wills?"
Her tears started again at his concern. "No, Xander. Oz dumped me today," she choked out.
"Oh, god. Are you all right?" he caught himself. "Stupid question. Will you be all right?"
She nodded on her end of the line. "Yeah, I guess. Of course, everything sucks right *now*, but give me time and I'll heal."
"They say it heals all wounds, time does," he offered half-heartedly. "You want some company?"
Her face brightened. "Yeah, actually. Would you mind coming over?"
She could hear the smile in his voice. "No problem. Let me grab my keys and I'll head over to campus."
"Okay," she agreed. "And thank you, Xand."
He paused. "You don't have to thank me. That's what I'm here for."
She paused, thinking. "But we've been so strained lately," she said pointedly. "And the way our relationship's been going, you really don't have to do this."
"Yes I do," he argued. "I love you, Wills. I'll do anything you want me to."
Her breath caught in her throat at the endearment. < Friend love, > she told herself.
"Uh..." she stammered. "Okay, so you'll come by in a few?"
"Yeah!" he agreed a little too quickly. "Be right over."
"Okay. See you soon." She gently hung up the phone, staring off into space as she did so. She didn't know what to make of anything right now. She hadn't even wanted to invite Xander over for fear of not being able to handle...something. Now her fears were escalated. The tension was going to be thick, she could sense it. She sighed. There was *definitely* an awkward night ahead for her.
****
Willow turned from the glare of the TV as a knock sounded on the door. Of course, television hadn't helped at all. It had depressed her more. She still couldn't believe that they had gotten rid of John Henson. < Talk Soup's just not the same without him >, she thought, shaking her head as she stood to answer the door.
She opened the door to find Xander shaking the water out of the sleeves of his shirt. His hair was matted to his forehead and his clothes stuck to his body. Rain dripped into his eyes and off his chin as he smiled warmly at Willow. She couldn't help smiling back.
"Xander, you're soaked!" she cried, grabbing his arm and pulling him into her room. "What happened? Didn't you drive?" She closed the door quickly behind him.
"Of course I drove, Wills!" he yelped, grabbing a towel off her desk chair and rubbing it through his hair. "But, number one, I have a convertible with a shit roof that doesn't go up. And number two, I have to make the ninety-yard dash from the parking lot to your dorm. Hence my being soaked."
"Oh," she agreed. "That makes sense." She stared at him for a moment, noting the way his long-sleeved black shirt clung to his chest and arms. She blinked suddenly, realizing how uncomfortable he probably was.
"Uh...you should get out of those clothes, Xander." He raised an eyebrow and gave her a sly grin. "Should I?" he asked in a low voice.
Her eyes grew larger as she caught his meaning. "NO!" she shouted, slapping him playfully and cracking a smile. "I mean, come on, you're...soaked," < and quite hot... > she thought before shaking the thought from her head. "I'm pretty sure I have a really big sweatshirt if you want..." she said, turning around to rummage through her tiny closet.
"Sure," he acquiesced. He stared at her as she bent into the closet and began sifting through plastic bags. His jaw tightened in defense as he thought of Oz and how much he'd hurt Willow by leaving her. How could anyone ever leave Willow? < Well, you practically did >, the voice in his head reminded him. < You let her slip right through your fingers. You oafish fool, you were too late. > Trying to stop his self-chastising, Xander turned toward the television on the far side of the room.
"So, Will, what ya watchin'?" She emerged from the closet, holding a large, navy blue sweatshirt.
"Talk Soup."
"Oh, with the new guy?"
"Yep." She held up the shirt. "Found it. One thing though..."
"What's that?" he asked, already pulling off his wet shirt to reveal a smooth, well-built upper torso. He gently took the dry shirt from her and pulled it over his head as she tried to pretend that his being half-naked didn't affect her.
"Uh..." she stammered, her eyes darting to the floor back up to him. She smiled and pointed. "You look cute," she proclaimed, stifling a giggle.
He glanced down, confused, and saw a bit of yellow on the front of the shirt. He turned to the mirror on the wall and straightened the shirt so he could see it. There was a picture of a little yellow chicken, and the word 'CHICK' on pink letters beneath it. He looked up, a wry smile covering his face. "Gee, thanks Will."
"Hey, I didn't remember at first!" she said, spreading her arms defensively. "And I was about to tell you!" She then crossed her arms over her chest and stuck the tip of her thumb in her mouth, chewing on the nail. "You look good, though," she said, letting her smile seep through a bit.
"Can it, Rosenburg," he joked, sitting on Buffy's bed.
Willow sat on her own bed, leaning against the pillows and facing the TV. Xander glanced from her to the TV, and made himself comfortable on the bed he sat on. "So, what's on? Please, just don't make me watch golf again," he begged.
She grinned. "Okay," she agreed. "I don't know, though. What time is it?"
"Around seven?"
"Hmm... seven o'clock on a Sunday night..." she thought aloud. "Good question. What *is* on?"
"Try the Discovery Channel or something. They always have some little special going on on Sundays," Xander suggested.
"Kay." Willow changed the channel.
They sat through a boring Ford commercial, complete with Xander's mockery of the announcer, waiting patiently for whatever was on to entertain them. When the cable channel's logo came on, they tuned their ears in to see if what was on would interest them. What was on drained Willow's blood from her face. A special on the mythology of the werewolf. Her eyes widened and she bit her lip as the tears seeped to the surface. She completely forgot Xander was there as she covered her mouth with one hand in shock. Closing her eyes, she let the hot tears pour over her face as her body wracked with sobs.
For a minute or so, she sat there like that; curled up against her pillows, hands covering her face, tears running down her cheeks as she cried. Then suddenly there were arms around her. < Xander > she thought with relief as the arms circled her waist and brought her into the grasp of a warm body. She turned herself so that she was perched on the edge of the bed as he knelt on the floor in front of her. She circled her own arms around his back and clung to him, pressing her face to his shoulder.
Xander held Willow until her sobs were nearly silent. She kept her eyes closed and leaned into his body as he stroked her back. She turned her head so that it was buried in the crook of his neck, then leaned it against his head. "Xander?" she whispered, almost a squeak.
He pulled back slightly, attempting to look in her eyes. "Wills?" he murmured, his voice hoarse with his own tears.
She sat back completely, wiping away her tears with one hand and straightening her shirt slightly with the other. "Thanks, Xander. Not too many people would do that for a friend."
He smiled, his eyes a little wet from seeing her so upset. "You're more than a friend to me, Willow."
Her eyes widened in shock and disbelief as she let his true meaning sink in. Her eyes met his, and what she saw there truly frightened her, more than any vampire or Hellmouth demon. She stared in his eyes and saw love; complete and utter adoration. Mixed with the love was sadness, confusion, lust, and most frightening, longing. She knew just by looking at him at that moment that he loved her like she'd always wanted him to, and that he would always love her. And she knew that she could never *not* love him. But it scared her; God did it scare her.
She did the only thing she could do. She laughed. She laughed lightly and said that she knew she was more than a friend, she was his best friend. She laughed and said that and watched his heart break. And as she watched his heart break she felt a piece of her die. All because she was scared.
****
The mood lightened after a while, and the rest of the night was spent watching Adam Sandler movies. Xander had returned to Buffy's bed after Willow insisted that she wouldn't be back until at least midnight - it might be raining, but vamps can be inside, too. And as they each lay in separate beds, they pretended to watch the movies between glances across the room.
Willow stood as 'Happy Gilmore' ended and removed the tape to start the next one. "I'm thinking 'The Wedding Singer', how about you?" she asked as she held a tape in the air.
"When did you fall in love with me?"
Willow's heart stopped as Xander asked the question she prayed he'd never ask. She managed a weak smile and innocently asked, "What?"
He sat up. "It's a simple question. When did you fall in love with me?" He looked at her expectantly. < He honestly expects an answer? > Willow tried to speak but the words caught in her throat. She stared at the carpet.
"I...uh...ehh..."
"Because I can tell you exactly when I fell in love with you."
Her eyes lifted back to his face in complete awe.
"You..."
He nodded before she could babble incoherently. "It was in preschool, when I had made that paper heart for Valentines Day."
She gasped. "But..."
"I saw you across the room and I just knew you had to have it." He stood up and crossed the room slowly, keeping his eyes glued to hers.
"That was..."
"I saw you sitting there eating your little handi-snack of cheese and crackers, and I thought, 'now come on, if anyone deserves a paper heart, it's her'." He stopped only inches away from her, and she grabbed his hand to keep herself from falling. Willow closed her eyes and steadied herself, trying to swallow through her dry throat. She opened her eyes again and gazed into his. "That was the day you met me." He nodded. "I know. That was the moment I met you." She smiled and punched him weakly in the arm. "Then what took you so long?"
Xander shrugged. "I mistook it for plain old friendship. Before that, I hadn't really had a friend. Play friends, sure. But no real friends. You were my first friend. And I thought all friendship felt like that." He smiled and shook his head. "But it doesn't, does it?"
"No, it doesn't."
He grinned knowingly before he continued. "And I thought that all life was about was the chase. I thought I had to meet every girl I could. I wanted to find that right person. I didn't want to end up like my parents," he added bitterly. He took a breath. "I didn't realize that some people practically start out life with their soul mate." She stopped thinking as he put his hand up to her cheek and leaned his forehead against hers. She simply closed her eyes as her heart quivered.
"So again I ask. When did you fall in love with me?"
A tear slipped from beneath her lashes and ran down his thumb.
"The day I was born," she whispered.
He chuckled softly, closing his eyes as well. "That soon?"
Willow nodded frailly. "As early as I can remember I knew that I had to find you."
"Really?"
"Mm hmm..."
"Wills?" Xander breathed as his lips neared hers.
"Yes?"
"I love you."
She smiled. "I know," she whispered.
For all the weakness that had come over her body, their kiss was full of fire. His lips pressed lightly against hers, then more fiercely as the need grew. Willow parted her lips slightly, and Xander's tongue welcomed hers. As their tongues moved together, their bodies seemed to meld. Her arms snaked around his neck and her fingers found their way into his hair. He pulled her closer to him as her body arched into his embrace. His hands wrapped themselves protectively around her waist as he sneaked his fingers up her back under her shirt.
Xander pulled back slowly, grinning to himself. He bent his lips to her neck and placed tender kisses along the slope. "Xander?" she managed. He nipped at her neck and kissed his way to her jaw.
"Hmm..." he mumbled between kisses.
"Xander?" she repeated.
He lifted his lips to her ear. "Yes?" She squeezed her eyes shut as another tear escaped.
"Stop?" she begged, her voice shaking.
Xander's breath seemed to stop. He dropped his arms and stepped back slightly, nodding. Not meeting her eyes, he whispered, "Why?"
"I don't know if we should be doing this." She stepped back as well, nearly impossible against the TV.
The emotion was evident in his voice. "I love you so much, Willow."
She nodded. "I still know," she said with a sad laugh.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "I've been waiting for this my whole life." His eyes opened and he stared at her, taking her hand lightly. "You've been waiting for this too..."
She nodded, closing her own eyes. "I know, I know."
She sighed and took a seat on her bed, leaving Xander to stand, looking lost and confused. He turned to her, the aftermath of rejection clearly painted on his face. "I don't understand."
"I don't know if I can go through this again," she admitted quietly.
He sighed and sat next to her. She winced as she noticed that he sat a safe distance away. "How do you mean?"
She paused and took a breath. Letting herself calm down as she let it out, she spoke slowly and evenly. "I loved Oz. I loved him so much. He did so much for me, and now he's gone." She laughed. "He hasn't even left yet, and already I'm faced with the possibility of you. Of us. Of...*this*," she said, motioning between herself and Xander. She bit her lip. "I don't think I could handle it if this didn't work. I mean, I couldn't handle anything not working right now, but if we don't work together..." she trailed off, thinking. "I don't know if I could go on at all."
She turned to look at Xander, who was staring straight ahead with clouded eyes. "It's okay, Wills," he said softly. She could tell he hardly meant it, that it took all he was worth to keep together.
"Xander," she started, reaching for his arm. He pulled away and stood up quickly, running a hand through his hair. "No, Will, really. I understand. I really do. I understand. I understand." She knew he did, but felt that he was repeating it to assure himself of something. He looked around, spotting his wet shirt on her desk chair. "Look, maybe I should go."
"No, Xander, don't - "
He shook his head, hastily picking up his shirt. "No, I'll go. You really don't need me here anymore." He smiled apologetically. "I'm probably just making things worse for you. Last thing you need right now is confusion."
"Xander, please..."
"I'll get out of your hair now," he proclaimed. He paused, looking around skittishly for any belongings other than his shirt. He headed quickly for the door, leaving Willow sitting on her bed openmouthed and speechless. "Oh, right," he muttered, suddenly remembering her sweatshirt. He took it off quickly, then pulled his cold, still wet shirt over his head. He flashed a quick smile at her. "See ya, Willow." Willow sat on her bed, staring after him. < What just happened here? > she thought. Earlier tonight she was crying, and then Xander came over and... She shook her head and buried her face in her hands. < Why does everything have to be so complicated? >
The tears came again as she thought of never having another chance with Xander. "What did I do?" she asked the room. < What can you still do? > was her silent answer.
She jumped up and ran quickly down the hall, heading blindly for the stairway. She reached it and bolted through the door, running as fast as she could down the steps. Reaching the bottom, she threw herself through the double doors and ran into the night. Suddenly, she was drenched completely. The rain was so intense that she could hardly see ten feet in front of her. "Xander!" she screamed over the thundering of the rain hitting the concrete lot. "Xander, please!"
"Willow?" Xander's concerned cry came through the air.
"Xander!" she answered, running towards the sound of his voice. Finally finding him, her heart broke again at the pathetic sight. His pants were soaked through, and she could tell it was hard for him to move in the wet denim. He had walked into the rain with only his wet shirt from before to cover him, and it now lay in a puddle next to his car as he shivered in the rain. And the car...he held the door open, and she now understood that he was serious when he said the roof didn't go up. The car was flooded and the seats looked ruined. "Will, go back inside," he insisted.
Willow sighed. "Xander, please come in."
"Why? You said yourself that I'd just break your heart again. I don't want to do that to you, Willow." He shook his head. "Just go in and I'll go home." He moved to get into the flooded car.
"Xander!" she shouted, starting to get impatient. He stared at her in reply.
"Look at yourself! You're not going home like this!" she paused. "you can't *get* home like this. Look at the car." He did, turning his head and realizing she was right.
"Will..." he started. He bowed his head silently. "Will, I don't want to be burden on you. I don't want to come around at the wrong time."
It was her turn to stare at him. Her brow furrowed in concern, and she stepped forward. "Xander, you could *never* be a burden. Never, you understand me?" he nodded, still looking down. She lightly put a hand on his bare chest. "Xander, listen to me." He remained silent and didn't move. "Listen to me," she repeated, more earnestly. He looked up. She was shocked to find tears in his eyes.
"I'm listening," Xander whispered hoarsely. She could hardly hear him in the rain.
Willow dropped her hand. "I love you."
He closed his eyes and sighed sadly. "Don't do this to me, Wills."
"Do what?" she asked, raising her arms. "Xander, if I'm doing anything to you, I'm doing it to me, too. Don't do what to you?"
"Don't chase me away like that and then tell me what I need to hear."
Her body stopped moving. "I'm not doing anything to chase you away," she cried, new tears flowing. "You ran."
"You basically said you needed me away from you, didn't you?" Xander shouted, his own frustrated tears falling. He shrugged. "I only obeyed you. I'm giving you space to heal, all right? I'm leaving *for* you, I'm not leaving *you*."
"Don't, Xander," she sobbed, closing her eyes as the tears ran hot down her cheeks. She opened them and they pleaded silently. "Don't leave at all," she breathed.
"Wills..."
Willow threw herself at him, holding him tightly around the waist as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. "Don't go don't go don't go" she chanted as she held him to her. She held her breath, hoping he would stay.
Finally, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pressed her closer to him. He turned her face to his and kissed her. He kissed her passionately, sobbing into the kiss. It was unlike any of their kisses before; this kiss was full of unexpressed pain and the relief that they were in each other's arms. She broke the kiss and hugged him tightly. She sighed, and melted into his arms.
"You know, don't you?" Xander asked quietly.
"What do I know?"
"You know that if I don't leave now, I'm never going to leave."
Willow looked up and grinned happily, wiping tears and rain away from his face. "Promise?"
"I do." He smiled, as she understood the hidden meaning.
She snaked her arms up to his shoulders and placed her hands behind his neck. She pulled him down gently and kissed him again, this time tenderly and briefly. He leaned his forehead against hers, as he had earlier in her room.
"I wondered if it would always be this way with us," she said.
"What way?"
"All or nothing."
He laughed huskily. "Has it been?"
She giggled quietly. "I think so."
"What is it now?"
She smiled. "All."
******
Epilogue
By the time Buffy returned, well after one AM, the power had gone out in the dorm. “Great,” she muttered, wondering how she could be guaranteed to wake up for class without her alarm clock.
Tired and wet, she trudged along the hallway to her room, eyes half closed as she fumbled in her jacket for her keys. She insisted that Willow lock the door at night, and she could never tell when she would actually need the keys. Apparently, not tonight. She reached for the knob and turned it easily. “Will, I told you...” she muttered as she slipped into the dark room.
Closing the door quietly behind her, she crept towards her bed. The floor creaked beneath her once, and then she tripped. “Ow!” she cried as she fell to her knees, trying to keep her voice hushed. < What was that? > she wondered. On all fours, she reached behind her and fumbled in the dark for the culprit of her fall.
Confused, she pulled a shoe towards her. A large, wet sneaker. < This isn’t ours... > she thought. < This is a guy’s sneaker. > Suddenly, her eyes lit up and her mouth formed a small ‘o’ shape. Carefully standing, she moved slightly closer to Willow’s bed, straining her eyes in the dim moonlight. “Will?” she whispered.
“Hmmmphmm...” was the reply. And it wasn’t Willow’s voice. It was distinctively male. It was distinctively...
< Xander? > Buffy shook her head as she realized that Xander was in Willow’s bed. And Willow was in Willow’s bed. And Xander and Willow were...pretty darn naked in Willow’s bed. < Umm, okay... > She backed away quietly, heading for her closet. Quickly, she changed into a large tee shirt and boxers and silently crept into bed.
< I’m suddenly glad that I don’t have to wake up to an alarm, > she rationalized. < Maybe I’ll just sleep through his leaving, and avoid all the awkwardness. > She felt oddly uncomfortable in her own room as she lifted the sheets to her chin and lay on her back.
Suddenly, she heard giggling coming from the next bed. < Oh, god, please spare me of love-giggles, > she begged. She was surprised when they grew louder and she heard Willow say, “Goodnight, Buffy.”
“Night,” Xander chimed in.
She couldn’t help but grin at her two best friends. “Goodnight guys,” she said with mock impatience as she turned to her side. “Sleep well.”
“We will,” Willow insisted. She grinned at Xander and hushed her voice. “Good night,” she whispered.
He smiled back. “Good night to you.” He kissed her forehead tenderly. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Oh will you stop it?” Buffy cried. “I love you guys too, but do *I* make such a big deal about it?”
The giggling resumed for a moment as Willow and Xander apologized. “Good night,” they each said once more. Then they were quiet.
It was the way it should be.
Well, except for Buffy being in the room.