*****

"We don't open 'til sunset."

"Make an exception."

"Xander!"

"Hey, Willie." Xander walked inside the bar and slumped onto a stool.

"You look like your dog just died."

Xander snorted. "Nah. My best friend is marrying one, that's all." He stared down at his fist, clenching and unclenching on the bar top.

Willie poured him a club soda. "You look like you could use something a little stronger, but I don't have a license for your breed," he admitted. "What brings you here?"

"No where else to go." Hangouts for teenagers ditching school were somewhat limited.

"Sounds like most of my clientele," Willie allowed, bending down behind the bar to restock the liquor.

"And no-one will think to look for me here," Xander admitted, sipping the soda and grimacing at the bland--nonexistent--flavor.

"Ah-ha. You ditchin' school today?'

"I s'pose. Not that it matters."

"Nah," Willie agreed, still hidden behind the counter. "You're buddies with that cute little redhead. The genius."

Xander groaned and buried his head in his arms. "God, how do you know these things?"

"My clientele likes to chat when they've had a few. The Slayer and her friends are a favorite topic."

"Really. That's just wonderful."

A figure came in through the back entrance, and Willie poked his head up. "Closed 'til sunset!" he called.

"It's just me, Willie," a familiar voice replied.

"Oh, this day just keeps getting' better!"

"Xander?"

The young man sighed and looked up the meet the vampire's gaze. "Hey, Dead Boy."

Angel winced at the sight of Xander's face. "Is that still healing?"

Xander frowned. "Huh? Oh, no. This is a brand-new example of Xander-the-friendly-punching-bag."

Angel gave him a half-hearted smile. "Did Buffy tell you I was sorry about that?"

"Yeah. Don't sweat it," he said, deciding it wasn't worth it. He sighed and took another sip of his soda. "So. Rough . . . day?"

"I haven't been sleeping," Angel admitted with uncharacteristic forthrightness. He sat down at the bar, flipping his leather duster out from under his behind to hang behind the stool. The vampire tapped two fingers on the counter, and Willie obligingly dropped at shot glass down in front of him and splashed a bit of an amber-colored liquid into it. Angel glared at it for a few moments before hefting it and taking a small sip.

Xander raised an eyebrow. "Didn't know you drank."

Angel shrugged. "You can build up a lot of vices in two hundred and fifty years." He changed the subject. "Isn't it Monday? Was it a long weekend?"

Xander didn't answer.

"Did something happen? Is everyone okay?" By everyone, Angel actually referred to select group of students and two adults that the two were close with.

"Oh, everyone's just dandy. Some of 'em are even gettin' married." Xander knocked back the rest of his soda and Willie refilled the glass for him, keeping silent throughout the conversation, as a wise bartender will.

Angel dropped his gaze. "Willow."

"Give the man a prize."

They were all quiet for a moment. Angel took another sip of his drink before continuing. "The two of you--you had something going on?"

Xander sighed. "You and Buffy were all chummy right about then. Didn't she tell you?"

Looking down, Angel said softly, "We weren't. Not then. But I hear things." He shrugged. "And I saw the two of you together."

Xander's eyes widened, and he turned on the vampire indignantly. "You were spying--?"

Angel didn't rise to the bait. "I saw you, not together, but I could tell. You were terrified to touch her. It wasn't hard to figure out why."

Xander sighed. "Yeah, well, the short version is that we got found out. Both of us got dumped. Then Oz un-dumped Willow and now they're gonna go live in England and get married and--"

"England?"

"She's gonna be the next Giles. I think she likes tweed or something."

Angel smiled. "A Watcher. She'll be an asset," he mused. Xander glared at him. "Uh, sorry." He stared at his drink for a moment. "You seem . . . upset."

"Gee. Really?"

"And things between you and Willow are over?" Angel guessed, treading very carefully.

"It's generally a necessary component of marriage. Monogamy. For humans, anyway," he added harshly.

Angel replied as he lifted his shot glass, "Then she doesn't know you're still in love with her?" He took a sip, not looking at the man next to him.

Xander choked on his club soda. "Am I that obvious?" he asked, when he regained control of his throat.

"No. But I recognized the signs of a man who's in love with a woman he can't have."

Xander sighed, and, admitting defeat began to speak. "I knew she was in love with me. She wasn't good at hiding it. But she was like my kid sister or something. Pretty, and sweet, and . . . a relation, you know?" Angel wisely stayed out of the monologue. "But when she and Oz . . . I *really* hated the idea of the two of them. I didn't get it, at first. And then . . . she was suddenly--female, you know? And I was suddenly looking at what Cordelia and I were to each other, and what Will and I had always been to each other, and what we could be to each other . . . "

He shook his head and drained the club soda, waiting until Willie had refilled it before continuing. "I was fooling myself, though. She didn't . . . feel that for me, anymore. She was scared, I think, and just trying to hang onto the person she used to be. I kept telling myself that she and Oz wouldn't last, that she'd realize that I was the only one who could make her happy . . ."

Angel waited until he was sure Xander wasn't going to continue. "Do you honestly think you could make her happy? Happier than Oz can?" Xander just looked at him. "If you think she can return your feelings, tell her. If you don't, then I'd recommend that you keep quiet about the whole thing. Trust me, there isn't much worse than unrequited love. Willow could probably tell you that," he added.

Xander sighed. "She really loves him, doesn't she?"

"You already know, Xander."

*****

"Hi, Mrs. Rosenberg. Is Willow here?"

"Xander! Goodness, it's been quite a while, hasn't it. Come on in! I think she's in her room. Probably on that computer of hers."

He shrugged. "I tried to call, but her line was busy . . ."

Sheila Rosenberg nodded her head toward the kitchen. "Let me get you a little snack to take with you."

He reluctantly followed her into the kitchen. He sighed as he processed what she'd just said. "How did you know we're going to be in there for a while?"

She smirked at him. "Mother's intuition. That, and when I suggested she might invite you over for dinner last week, her response was . . . less than enthusiastic."

He snorted. "I'll bet."

"Are you upset about her Oxford plans?"

He shrugged. "Something like that."

Mrs. Rosenberg nodded sagely. "I can't say I'm entirely happy about it, either. But it is a wonderful opportunity for her. To live in another country! She's mentioned travelling abroad, as well, seeing Europe and even Asia. I'll admit I'm worried sick about the whole thing, but Oz will be there to look after her. He's a good boy."

Xander sighed, and slumped against the counter next to her as she turned toward him. "He's great."

Her eyes narrowed, then widened as she studied his face. "Oh, dear . . ."

He turned bright red. "I, uh, tripped--"

She glowered at him. "You forget that I'm her mother."

"Wait, Mrs. Rosenberg, I totally deserved it--" he rushed to absolve her daughter.

Sheila grinned at him. "Oh, I don't doubt it." He blinked, and she laughed. "Here." She placed a tray with sodas and chips into his arms. "Go on. If you manage to come out without any more bruises, dinner's at six," she called after him.

Balancing the tray precariously on one arm, he knocked tentatively on the door. "It's open, Mom!" Willow called from inside her bedroom.

Cringing, Xander opened the door. "Peace offering," he began, setting the tray on her desk, and handing her a soda.

Willow sat up quickly from her prone position on the bed. "Xander!"

"Can we talk?" he asked, putting on his most pitiful puppy-dog face. It had never failed in the past.

She glowered at him. "Don't do that."

Oops. "Sorry," he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets as she accepted the soda.

Sighing, Willow turned back to her laptop computer for a moment. "Just let me log off," she told him.

That done, she tucked her legs under her tailor fashion and lifted her chin. "First you say all those awful things to me, and then when you finally apologize, you run away before we can even *talk* about it!"

He was still standing. Ordinarily, he would have joined her on the bed, but her body language told him that wouldn't be the best idea he'd ever had. He chose instead to pull out her desk chair and straddle it backwards, keeping a semblance of a barrier between them. It was silly, but it still made him feel better. "I know, Will. I've been a complete jerk. And I don't even have a good excuse." Well, not one he could give voice to, in any case.

She dropped her head a little, and played with the ring on her left hand idly. Xander forced himself to remain calm. "Why do you hate him so much?" she asked, sounding like a lost child.

Oh, joy. Even angry slapping was better than hurt. "I don't hate Oz," he began, then stopped. It was actually true. Oz was a cool guy. He treated Willow the way she ought to be treated: with respect and love. The only "why" Xander could think of was primarily along the lines of "it should be me," and that was unacceptable.

"Then why do you make me feel like a slut for being in love with him?" she whispered.

Oh, Jesus, now she was gonna cry. Deciding to risk it, he stood and sat next to her on the bed, and pulled her into a brotherly hug. "I'm sorry, Will. It was just a shock. Both things. I'm an insensitive bastard . . ." He trailed off, and she snuffled against his chest. Panicking, his brain went into overdrive and he hit upon a solution. "I just feel really protective of you!" he burst out.

She sniffled against him again, and drew in a shuddering breath. "Really?"

"Yes! I mean, yes," he repeated, trying to suppress his enthusiasm just a bit. "Truthfully, I don't think any guy would be good enough for you." 'Cept one Alexander Harris. Only he would know just how to treat her, how to be her perfect man. But, onto reality . . . "Not even Ghandi."

She managed a wet-sounding giggle, and finally raised her head to look at him. "I've missed this," she said softly. "I feel like I've lost my best friend, these past months."

"I know, Will. Me, too," he muttered, tucking her head under his chin. God, this felt good. If he couldn't have her as his girl, he could at least have this. Maybe it wouldn't hurt so bad, this way. Maybe he'd even survive this fall when she left for England.

*****

"UHG!"

"OUGH!"

"OOF!"

"Oops. Sorry."

"Ow."

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just--give me a sec." Willow sat on the tile floor, trying to catch her breath. Giles came forward to help her up. She looked at him sheepishly. "I'm sorry I'm such a wimp."

The Watcher chuckled and levered her to her feet. "Buffy has caught me off guard more times than I can count, Willow. And I've seen you in battle. You are far from a 'wimp.'"

Willow pouted. "But Buffy's going easy on me. Aren't you?" she accused, turning toward the Slayer.

Buffy looked down at her cross-trainers. "Well, I--"

"I thought so!"

Giles shook his head. "No, Willow. She is the Slayer. You cannot possibly compare your physical prowess with hers. It would be akin to comparing the intelligence of a rat with that of an ape."

Xander piped up from his vantage point on at the table in the library, "I don't know, G-man. Amy's gettin' pretty smart. You just put a little fresh-baked fudge brownie at the end of a maze, and she'll--"

Willow jerked her head around to face him. "Xander!"

He ducked his head. "Well, you *said* to play with her at least twice a day . . ."

Willow sighed, and explained to Buffy and Giles, "My mom might be developing an allergy. Until she gets the test results from her doctor, Amy's vacationing at Harris' House o' Horrors." This last was said in a nasty voice, from which Xander cringed.

Buffy stepped in, glaring at the teenaged boy. "Okay. Xander, try to remember that Amy's a *person,* and Willow won't turn *you* into a rat, deal?" She turned to Willow. "Why don't you come patrolling with me tonight?"

Xander got over his sulking rather quickly. "With Faith out there? No way!"

Willow rolled her eyes. "I've been patrolling with Buffy plenty of times. So have you."

"But not with Psyco-Slayer on the loose!"

Willow sighed. "We can't keep running from her, Xander. I know- -" She broke off and looked at her feet, and went on in a softer voice, "I know what she did to you. But I'll be with Buffy. And I can't afford to be afraid of her. A Watcher can't be afraid of a Slayer."

Buffy nodded. "I promise I'll take good care of her, Xan."

He looked back and forth between the two girls, and then stood. "Wait here," he ordered, and left the library.

The three looked at each other in bewilderment. Xander returned a few moments later, holding something in his hands. Not meeting Willow's eyes, he jerked his head toward the library table. After shooting Buffy a glance, she obediently followed, and sat in the chair he pulled out for her. "What is this all about--?"

He put two boxes on the table in front of her. "Open 'em," he insisted.

Her curiosity finally getting the better of her, the redhead opened the larger of the two boxes. Inside lay a steel canister topped with a nozzle . . . "Mace?" she guessed, lifting the bottle and noting that it fit comfortably in her palm.

Xander grinned. "*Vampire* mace," he corrected.

Buffy came forward to look over her friend's shoulder. "And it's different from regular mace how . . .?"

"Garlic oil and holy water," he explained.

Giles came forward to examine it. "May I?" He hefted the device while the girls chuckled at the hilarity of the situation. "This is ingenious! I don't think it's ever been conceived of--"

Buffy narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, Xander. How'd you think of it?"

He started to protest, but his look of righteous indignation didn't hold up under the scrutiny of those who knew him all too well. "I got the idea from a movie. *Blade*," he added, looking ashamed.

Buffy shot him a withering look. "You *watched* that?" The group of friends tended to avoid all movies that struck a little too close to home. Most horror flicks fell into that general category, but specifically vampire movies were practically sacrilege.

He had the grace to look sheepish. "It was on ShowTime, okay?"

Willow managed to sober up a little. "I think it's sweet. Thank you."

He smiled at her and pushed the second box toward her. "Next one," he prompted, his voice betraying a bit of tenderness.

Not noticing, Willow went on to open the second package, but Buffy caught Xander's eye sharply, which he avoided adroitly. "Oh!" cried Willow, and Buffy turned her attention back to subject at hand. "It's beautiful," she said softly, holding up the silver cross and chain for all to see. She reached behind her head to clasp the necklace about her throat, and it rested high on her chest, in a perfect position to ward off any would- be-biter.

"And practical," Giles added, giving Xander a silent nod of approval.

Xander shrugged. "It was supposed to be a graduation present, but I figure necessity outweighs tradition."

Willow stood and hugged him. "Definitely. Thank you."

Not knowing quite what to say, and wanting to keep her in his arms for just a moment longer, he joked, "Just don't let your dad see the necklace."

She laughed and obligingly hugged him more tightly. "Only on patrol," she promised.

This time Buffy did manage to catch the young man's eye, who reddened and abruptly pulled away. "Well, you two'd better get going."

Willow nodded and began gathering up her things. Buffy, linking arms with her friend, managed to squeeze Xander's shoulder reassuringly, and met his eyes just long enough to receive his gratitude. Giles called out a caution to the girls as they left.

Xander waited until they were almost out of earshot before he leaned out of the library and holler, "Will?"

She turned back and flashed a knowing grin at him. "I'll call as soon as Buffy drops me off, Mom."

*****

Sitting upon gravestones, facing each other, Buffy asked, "So, you think Oz will have a problem with the cross?"

Willow frowned. "Why would he?"

"'Cause it's Xander, and it's jewelry."

"Oh. Well, no. I mean, we're past that. And he'll understand that Xander just wants to keep me safe."

Buffy grinned. "I don't know. I'm kinda surprised you've never woken up to find a little yellow circle around you."

"Buffy!" Willow blushed. "Okay, they're possessive. But, well, I don't mind when it's Oz, and Xander's getting better." Her eyes widened. "And Tommy's waking up!"

Buffy jumped down from her "stool" and whirled to face the face the young man rising from his grave. "You want the honors?" she asked, nevertheless retrieving her stake from up her coat sleeve.

"Why, thank you," Willow murmured, and balancing on the balls of her feet just like Buffy had taught her, advanced on the emerging creature. "Hey, Tommy, how's it going? I--uh, I don't think you passed that math test I was tutoring you for. 'Cause you didn't show up, and all. Not--not that it was particularly your fault, or anything. Dying can make you miss a test or two, I completely understand--"

"Will?"

"Oh, right. Uh, sorry," she said, and plunged the stake through his heart just as he broke free of his grave.

Buffy stared at her.

"What? Okay, I know, I need to work on the distracting conversation a little."

"Will, you apologized to the soulless demon you just dispatched."

"Well, it's not exactly his fault. And I feel kinda bad, catching him off-guard like that. It's not really fair, you know?"

"Right. Next time, we'll wait until one's full risen and trying to kill you back before we pick up the offensive."

Willow sighed and put her stake back in her pocket. "Point taken." The two started walking. "Hey, Buffy? Can we go shopping this weekend?"

"Sure. For anything in particular?"

Blushing, Willow mumbled, "Maybe lingerie."

Buffy grinned. "You've come to the right girl. I've become an expert at picking out both the functional and the shockingly sexy."

"Uh--uh--not too shocking, okay? I'm kinda a Fruit-of-the-Loom gal."

"Well, save those for heavy work-out and sweat mode," she told her shy friend, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Trust me, Victoria's Secret will make you feel much more feminine."

Willow sighed. "I don't know. I've seen some of those catalogues. Uh, there's a lot of skin. Bare skin."

Buffy smiled. "You hide behind your clothes, you know that? You've got a great body. You shouldn't be afraid to flaunt it a little. Especially for a private audience."

Willow shot her friend a pained look. "I don't know . . ."

"Come on! You saw how guys responded to you when you wore that leather outfit! There was a definite drool-factor there."

Willow shook her head, wrinkling her nose. "I don't think--"

"Giles and Xander were definitely digging it. I even caught Angel sneaking a peak at your cleavage. I'll bet Oz didn't mind lookin' either."

Willow's face nearly matched her hair at this point. "That--that wasn't me!"

"Of course it wasn't. And it never will be. I'm just trying to make you see that you *are* sexy. You were sexy that night because the outfit made you *feel* sexy, am I right? Well, that's what the underwear does, too. Even when you're the only one who knows your wearing it, it makes you sexy 'cause you *feel* sexy. Jeans and a t-shirt, and you're still a traffic- stopping siren."

Willow shot a sidelong look at the Slayer. "I don't think I've ever *seen* you in jeans and a t-shirt, Buffy."

Buffy, ever irrepressible, grinned and shrugged, giving her friend one more squeeze before letting go over her. "What can I say? I *have* to work out. Might as well take advantage of it while I still can."

Willow's face went white. "What's that supposed to mean?" Giles' words were thundering through her mind: "Buffy has lived far longer than most Slayers. Many never reach their eighteenth birthdays."

Buffy stopped walking. "Just--that, you know, age, equals gravity, equals no more Lycra?" She studied Willow's face closely. "What's with the wig?"

The redhead schooled her face carefully. "Nothing." She managed a fairly credible chuckle. "I'm just tired. I'm not used to all this physical activity late at night. I'm usually on my butt in front of a computer, you know?"

Buffy wasn't buying it. "You're worried that you're gonna be the Watcher of the next Slayer, aren't you?"

Willow's blood froze. She felt tears spring to her eyes. "Buffy--I--I--"

"Oh, Will, it's okay," Buffy said, hugging her impulsively. "Shh. Don't be upset, please? I mean, it's just reality. I'm the Slayer. I've accepted it."

"But--but--"

"Look, I don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon. I'm gonna be there to be your maid of honor, okay? Trust me, nobody's gonna stop me from seeing *Oz* in a tux, 'kay?"

Willow gave a short, gasping bark of laughter, a wet sound, laden as it was with suppressed tears. "Promise?"

"Cross my heart." They were both, however, painfully aware of the rest: "And hope to die."

Buffy shook it all off. "Come on. I need to get a staking in, or I'm gonna be wired all night."

Willow grinned. "Not if I get 'em first!" She danced away, and starting running to the next cemetery.

"Oh, you think you can compete with me?" Buffy took off after her.

*****

"Will?" Xander grabbed the phone after just half a ring. It had shocked him out of a doze, and her name came out more like, "Wllll?"

"I'm home."

"Oh. Good."

"You feel asleep, didn't you?"

"No. Nuh-uh. A little. Maybe."

She chuckled. "I staked two vampires."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Buffy was spotting me the whole time. But now I'm wired. I feel like I had too many café mochas."

He smiled. "Adrenaline does that." He closed his eyes, and forced out the next question. "Have you called Oz yet?"

He heard the approval in her voice. "No. He's in Monterey, remember? The Dingoes had a gig."

"Right. He left just after school today."

"You're dead on your feet. Go to bed. I'll drop by your house tomorrow morning. We'll walk to school together, like old times." Her voice was warm with affection.

He smiled. "Tomorrow. Sleep tight."

"Don't let the bed bugs bite," she replied dutifully.

He reached up to turn off his light, and rolled over, punching his pillow into submission. After ten minutes, he realized that, tired as he was, his mind was on overload. Maybe a little music would distract him. He flipped his radio-alarm clock on, setting it's SLEEP function. He set it to an easy listening station, and closed his eyes, letting the gentle rhythms sooth his active brain into sleep.

"This next one is Amanda Marshall, doing 'I'll Be Okay' off the 'My Best Friend's Wedding' soundtrack," the DJ informed him, and he groaned, but didn't have the energy to turn it off.

It's time to let you go
It's time to say good-bye
There's no more excuses
No more tears to cry
There's been so many changes
I was so confused
All along you were the one
All the time I never knew

Xander rolled onto his back, and stared at the ceiling. Maybe he should call her. Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe . . .

.I want you to be happy
You're my best friend
But it's so hard to let you go
Knowing all that could have been
I'll always have the memories
She'll always have you
Fate has a way of changing
Just when you don't want it to

"Goddammit," Xander muttered, and felt tears start to clog his throat as the music swelled into the chorus.

Throw away the chains
Let love fly away
Till love comes again
I'll be okay
Life passes so quickly
You gotta take the time
Or you'll miss what really matters
You'll miss all the signs
I've spent my life searching
For what was always there
Sometimes it will be too late
Sometimes it won't be fair

Their time was gone. He'd blown it. A year ago, hell, even last summer, and he could have had her. And the horrible thing was, he'd *known* he wanted her. He was just too chicken to tell her.

Throw away the chains
Let love fly away
Till love comes again
I'll be okay

If only he could go back in time. If only he'd realized, before . . .

I won't give up
I won't give in
I can't recreate what just might have been
But know that my heart will find love again
Now is the time to begin

It was time to put away that kind of thinking. He couldn't have her. If he told her, he'd only hurt her, and himself.

Throw away the chains
Let love fly away
Till love comes again
I'll be okay
I'll be okay
I'll be okay

He'd let her go. He'd say good-bye to her in his heart, now. But never to her friendship. That part of her he wouldn't let die from his heart. And, despite the good-byes, she'd always be the first girl he'd ever loved.

I can't hold on forever, baby
I can't hold on forever, baby
I can't hold on forever, baby
Yeah, yeah
I'll be okay

He sighed, and turned off the radio. His eyes slid closed, and as he fell asleep, a small, sad smile crossed his lips. He would be okay.

---

Continues