Author's Note: I apologize for taking so long with this, as well as other fic I've got in progress...the broken wrist is on the mend. Thanks for your patience!

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all of its characters belong to Joss & Co.

****************************************

"Willow!" Tara cried as Leif grabbed the red-haired witch from behind.

"Tara? Tell me again why this not interfering is a good?" Buffy barked at the blonde witch seeing Leif holding something to their friend's throat. "Because I'm getting that twitchy I-need-to-do-violence urge..."

"Looks like they're not too fond of Sabrina," Spike drawled without interest.

"Spike! Did you not just here me mention the twitchy...never mind!" Buffy snapped, eyeing the blonde witch nervously. "Tara, I think it might be time to break the spell here..."

"I'm not sure...oh!" Tara gasped as Leif jerked her girlfriend to be even tighter in his grasp.

"Chubs there is sure doin' a lot of yappin," Spike observed as they watched Xander exchanging words they couldn't quite hear with the Vikings. Willow seemed to be more perturbed by Xander's demeanor than the Vikings, however. "Might get to watch them kill him, eh?"

"That's it! This is out of hand. Break the spell!" Buffy demanded. When Tara hesitated, the Slayer drew her stake. "Fine, I'm going in." Spike rubbed his hands together.

"Alright, Slayer, `bout time we got to the violence. Somebody's gonna end up all bloodied, eh? Say, d'ya think I might get a nip..."

"No!" Tara cried. "I mean, we shouldn't...we should...what the...?"

Tara's gasp wasn't what brought Buffy up short. Neither was it her desire to hit Spike, though as long as he was standing right there...

"Hey! What was that for? I'm on your side!"

No, it was the scene now unfolding that made her stop. And stare. And, ultimately, wish for popcorn. She barely noticed Tara move to her left side and Spike to her right, so caught was she in the spectacle. Tara ultimately summed up the thoughts of all three observers succinctly.

"Whoa!"

*******

"I'm gonna give you one more chance to let my friend go, Leif, and then I'm going to make you," Xander said in a calm yet commanding voice that made even Willow blink in surprise.

"Do you not see how your mind has been clouded, Alexander? You think that you can take on the four of us and win?" Leif offered scornfully. Erik cleared his throat unhappily.

"We must not harm him, brother. Anyanka-"

"I wish him no harm, Erik, but I will not let him protect his witch." Leif interrupted grimly. "If he is foolish enough to engage us, Anyanka will have to find another husband."

"Not gonna happen," Xander said through clenched teeth. He locked eyes with Willow, who was shaking her head in little jerks. He knew what she was trying to tell him. Not to do something stupid, get himself killed. But Xander knew something she didn't. He had a plan. A stupid, get-yourself-killed type of plan, but a plan nonetheless. He hoped that what Willow had told him about the spell was true enough to help him out.

"Alexander, please. You have been bespelled. Do not make things worse," Erik begged. Xander surprised them all, including himself, by smiling almost manically.

"But they're gonna get worse, Erik. They're gonna get a lot worse. This is the last warning I'm giving you here. Let my witch go, or suffer the consequences." He nodded at Leif conspiratorially. "You know you can't kill her, right? That blade can't harm a true witch; it's not consecrated." All the Vikings seemed uncertain, and Xander pressed his advantage. "And I'm the guy that you just saw vanquish a demon, who drives an enchanted car, and who's friends with a magical witch. You think that I'll be so easy for you to take? Do I even look scared a little bit to you?"

The Vikings eyed each other, now more than a little nervous.

"You do not," Gardar answered for the group.

"Then it all boils down to this. Do you feel lucky, punk? Well, do ya?" Xander leaned in. "For the last time. Let. Her. Go."

For a second he was certain it was going to work. But while his brothers seemed ready to cave, Leif's jaw clenched stubbornly. Xander took a deep breath, hoping the other's doubts would be enough. With a cry he raised his sword.

"Xander, don't!" Willow gasped. Then she stared open-mouthed with all four of the Vikings as Xander turned on his heel and ran away, sword still raised, a blood-curdling war cry growing fainter as he ran. Willow recovered from her shock as he rounded the corner. She watched the spell bubble stretch with growing dismay. "Come back here! Xander! Don't! You can't get separated from...the...it...oh, poo."

"I had not thought him such a coward," Erik said, disappointed.

"Xander's not a coward!" Willow protested hotly, then sighed. "He's a total idiot, but he's a very very brave total idio-oh God..."

Willow's moan was precipitated by Xander's return around the corner, still making his strange battle cry and still running at full speed. The Vikings and Willow all froze, staring with their mouths comically open, then almost in unison tilted their heads in puzzlement.

"By Thor, he's charging us," Erik stated with burgeoning admiration.

"He shows so little fear?" Gardar asked.

"And you thought he was a coward," taunted Willow. "Shows what you know."

"Silence, witch!" Leif cried, bringing the sword closer, deep enough to pierce the skin. Willow hissed. A thin droplet of blood ran down her neck. Leif crowed, "See, she can be harmed!" His brothers, however, were still transfixed by the sight of the carpenter hurtling towards them at top Xander speed.

"Do not kill her!" Svein cried.

"But she is evil, brother. Surely you do not fear Alexander!"

His response was the three Vikings backing away from Leif and Willow. Willow frowned, then repressed the urge to simultaneously giggle insanely, shout in triumph and curse violently. She remembered. She knew what he was doing. Exactly what he was doing, and all she could do was pray that she was wrong. Because she was pretty sure this would never work. This was by far the most totally nuts idea that her friend had had in a long history of crazy ideas, but it was far too late to tell him that. Xander had almost reached them.

"You better let me go...right...now!"

Xander's feet suddenly went out from underneath him as he executed a perfect slide, like he was trying to steal home. Willow braced herself. They hadn't done this maneuver sine elementary school, but it was still all in the timing. As Xander seemed about to slide right past Leif, his grip on Willow loosened in his confusion. The witch twisted out of the Viking's grasp with the distraction her friend was providing and she ducked away. Barely a moment later, Xander's foot hooked with Leif's, sending him sprawling, his sword skittering across the floor to land near a suit of armor that Willow knew was a potted plant. Xander grabbed the beefy Viking by the shoulders as he fell on top of him, then flipped the two of them over so that he had the youngest Viking pinned.

"Whoa!" Xander thought he heard someone exclaim, possibly Tara. He cleared his throat loudly in case any of the other Vikings had heard as well.

"Okay then, let's try this again. You're going to leave Willow, who is not a threat to anyone here, alone. We're going to take this...booty...and go. We're going to show it to your father, I'm going to get married to the woman I love, and we're going to live happily ever after..." At the assortment of dubious expressions he amended, "...okay, we're probably gonna fight all the time and make each other miserable, but I gotta tell you, right now that sounds like heaven to me."

The stunned Vikings and a proudly beaming Willow watched as Leif's head drooped in defeat.

"You are the better man, Alexander. More than worthy of our sister's hand. Do as you must." The Viking nodded to his brother, and gravely Erik brought a sword to Xander, placing it in his hand. Xander frowned in puzzlement.

"What the huh?" he asked.

"His life is yours to take," Svein explained solemnly.

"What is it with you people and the taking of stuff?" Xander exploded incredulously. "I've had it with this!" The sword clattered loudly as he threw it to the ground. "There is not going to be any killing of anyone here, is that clear? Particularly not members of the bridal party!" Four quick nods of shaggy Viking heads. Xander continued, "Now we're getting out of here. Willow?" he asked, his eyes flashing concern until he saw her grin and thumbs up.

"Still the undisputed master of the hook-slide," she softly said to him, and he nodded, having to force himself not to grin back. It was good to have skills.

"Willow is going to help us get out of here," he said unnecessarily loudly for the ears he knew were probably listening. "Does anyone have a problem with that?" Four quick negative shakes of shaggy Viking heads. "Great. I love it when a plan comes together." Willow's coughing fit just about covered the audible groans of their invisible observers. He sidled over to her. "What now?"

"You tell your best friend you love and forgive her?" the witch tried hopefully. Xander didn't look amused, and she sighed. "We should be able to maintain the spell long enough for you to impress your in-laws. Then, all you have to do is get married and everything will go back to normal." At that her friend did smile, chucking the dejected witch under the chin.

"Let's go, then!" he said enthusiastically, hurrying off, the Vikings trailed behind him with their imagined loot. After a long moment, Willow blinked back her tears with a shuddering sigh and followed after them.

*********

"It was a beautiful wedding," Buffy assured Anya as she helped her pack. A task made slightly more difficult as the suitcases and clothes had to be fit around a large lump that was currently occupying most of the space on the bed. At Buffy's statement the lump let out a guttural moan, followed by a shushing sound that both women ignored.

"Yes, it was. My parents were most pleased with the bonding," Anya agreed cheerfully, making no attempt to modulate her tone. The lump responded with an even louder moan, and bloodshot eyes finally peeked over the top of the coverlet to glare at them balefully. Anya paused to give her new husband a dazzling smile, which caused him to wince and return to his previous lumpy state. "You know, the mead that Willow and Tara conjured was excellent."

The moan this time was pitiful enough that Buffy had to fight to keep from laughing.

"I had no idea that Viking weddings involved so much mead."

"Oh, the mead is very important. Remember during his toast when Clem explained the origin of the honeymoon? You know, the boring part?"

"I may have been napping," Buffy admitted. "I also had no idea that Viking weddings lasted three days."

"They have to. There are many toasts."

This time the sounds emerging from the bridegroom-turned-lump sounded to Buffy almost like words.

"Did that make sense to you?" Buffy asked with a smirk.

"He said, `Have mercy,'" Anya replied matter-of-factly. Buffy was now shaking with the effort to contain her giggles.

"Really? I'm impressed you could make that out," she managed to choke out.

"Well, I've heard it before, you know, back in the day. Many times, pretty much just like that. In fact, if I had a finite monetary unit for every time I heard it..." Anya trailed off, a near rapturous speculative look in her eyes at the thought. After a long moment, she shook her head and continued, "Anyway, I'm going to say to Xander here what I said to all the others," and at this she lifted the blanket and shouted, "YOU BROUGHT THIS ON YOURSELF!"

At Xander's responding cry of agony, Buffy could hold in her mirth no longer. Anya looked at her madly giggling companion in surprise, then smiled. She picked up a coat made of leather and fur and traced the markings, her smile turning a bit sad. Buffy picked up on her change of mood and her chuckles quickly subsided.

"You miss them, huh?"

"I guess," Anya shrugged with a sigh. "I mean, after a millennium, thinking I'd never...I really wanted them there, at my wedding. So having them back...it was nice, for a while. Made me remember what it was like, you know?" She stared nostalgically at the garment for a moment before tossing it aside with a violent shudder. "And what it was like was pretty gosh darned awful! Another day of my mother's harping on me, oh, and my father's little comments, calling me `wench` and ordering me around, I would probably have returned to vengeance."

"I hear you," a bemused Buffy responded. "But lucky for all the spell worked. Soon as the wedding party had officially partied out, they all went poof back into the past like Willow said they would."

"Yes, for once her magicks were not completely out of control and destructive," Anya acknowledged somewhat reluctantly. At that Xander's head finally did appear fully over the covers.

"An, honey, don't say stuff like that," he said slowly, holding his hands to his head and wincing as she slammed her suitcase shut in anger.

"Oh, of course that gets you moving. I should have insulted Willow an hour ago," the bride grumbled, stalking out of the room.

"Actually, you did insult Willow an...never mind," Buffy called after her. Xander sighed, looking up to meet his friend's cautious smile.

"I guess that means you've decided not to murder your best friend?" the Slayer asked. Xander shrugged, wincing again.

"I admit. That was overkill, no pun intended. She meant well."

"Glad you finally see that," Buffy said, tousling his already mussed hair just to hear his protesting groan.

"Besides, the wedding went off, and I'm married to the girl of my dreams, who I love with my whole person and plan to be with for the rest of my natural life," Xander continued, raising his voice so that the recently departed bride might hear him, then adding miserably, "Because I'm never going through this again." The Slayer clucked reprovingly but not unsympathetically.

"Do you even remember the wedding?" she asked him wryly.

"Oh, I remember," Xander began, then suddenly looked stricken. "Oh. I remember!"

"What?" Buffy's apprehension grew worse as she watched her friend's expression change slowly from worry and panic to a gleeful grin. A downright evil gleeful grin. "Now I'm even more nervous. You hear me? Xander? You've got the Slayer nervous. Spill!" The dark-haired man crawled out from beneath the covers. Buffy was surprised and amused to see his outfit - irreversibly wrinkled trousers from his wedding tuxedo and a leather shirt made of tanned hide of some kind.

"Well, it was the third day and most of the guests had left...things are a little hazy, but...ummm...the brothers Viking and I...we kinda...well..."

"Xander..." Buffy started in a warning tone.

"I guess you could say we went on another raid."

"Oh God..."

"Not pillaging! No thieving of any kind!" Xander assured her, moving out into the living room. Buffy followed him, frowning. Anya was sitting at the kitchen table, pretending to read a newspaper and very pointedly ignoring them.

"Then what?" Buffy asked.

"Well, I guess I was still sorta mad. You know, at Willow..." Xander continued, facing the door expectantly. Anya rattled her paper loudly, sulking a bit at his failure to pay attention to her, then dropped it in disgust.

"What. Did. You. Do?" Buffy asked, her tone murderous. Instead of responding Xander held up his hand, fingers up and proceeded to drop them one at a time.

"5...4...3...2..."

A thunderous pounding at the door interrupted him before he could complete his countdown. Anya stood up, momentarily forgetting that she wasn't speaking to her husband.

"We have guests?" she asked mildly, looked reproachfully at Xander. "We were expecting guests and you didn't tell me?"

"ALEXANDER HARRIS! OPEN THIS DOOR! RIGHT! NOW!" Willow's angry shout kept Xander from having to make any kind of reply.

"Oh, it's Willow. She doesn't count," Anya mused in relief, then with a cry of joy threw herself into Xander's arms, kissing him soundly.

"Wawyampph?" Xander mumbled in surprise.

Throwing up her hands, Buffy plopped onto the sofa to watch the drama play out.

"I'M NOT KIDDING, XANDER! YOU ARE SO GONNA GET IT! NOW OPEN UP AND TAKE IT LIKE A MAN!"

Detaching herself from Xander's puzzled lips, Anya crowed, "I know that anger. You took vengeance on her. For me!" then smothered Xander's weak grunt of protest with another searing kiss.

Or perhaps this would be more of a bedroom farce, Buffy theorized.

"I'M GIVING YOU ONE MORE CHANCE AND THEN IT'S CURTAINS, BUSTER!" Buffy could have sworn she heard a sucking sound as Xander managed to detach himself from his wife's lips. Anya's arms remained tightly wrapped around him as she proceeded to nuzzle his neck. He looked down at the Slayer, his previous amusement tempered with some concern.

"Ummm, Buff? Could you...heh heh....do me a favor?"

Buffy smiled at him brightly.

"Sure, as long as it in no way involves getting the door," she replied sweetly, having to raise her voice to be heard over the pounding, which had somehow grown louder.

"XANDER!"

"Some friend you turn out to be," Xander muttered to Buffy, who just batted her eyes at him.

"OPEN THIS DOOR! I MEAN IT!"

"She means it," Buffy repeated innocently, wondering idly if the Harris' had any popcorn she could microwave.

"I'M COUNTING TO THREE..."

"You really should let her in," Anya sighed loftily, detaching herself from her husband.

"ONE..."

"I mean, I'm sure that incessant noise is bothering the neighbors," she continued, sitting next to Buffy on the sofa. Xander gave them both one last desperately pleading look. Both women smiled and shook their heads.

"TWO..."

"Alright! Alright!" Xander cried, running to the door and pulling it open. Willow, caught mid-pound, nearly fell into the room, almost knocking him down in the process. He instinctively grabbed her shoulders to right her, then pulled back his hands like she was a hot pan he'd picked up without a potholder. He began backpedaling furiously as the furious witch stomped in. Buffy and Anya both stared at her, mouths agape at the girl's rather odd appearance.

"It was a j-joke!" Xander tried as he kept on backing up, laughing weakly. "I mean, you do see the funny, doncha, Will?" The witch’s grim march continued to propel him backward, her expression promising nothing good. "Will?"

"I'm finding it quite humorous. Vengeance often is," Anya offered brightly. The witch turned her baleful glare towards the sofa for a moment.

"Okay, I gotta know," Buffy drawled. "What did Xander do to make...that...happen?"

Willow looked down at herself, knowing exactly to what Buffy was referring. Her jeans and sneakers were perfectly normal, as was the yellow t-shirt she wore. Her pullover sweater, a yellow and blue flowered one that Buffy recognized as one of her favorites, was another matter entirely. Where once it had fallen slightly past her hips, it now came to just below her armpits. Without a word, she turned on her heel and walked back into the hall. She returned momentarily with something that momentarily stunned all three of the others until their diverse reactions: confusion from Xander, amused understanding from Buffy, and from Anya, unadulterated joy.

For his part, the goat bleated plaintively at them all.

"A goat. In my closet," Willow said in low menacing voice. "In my closet, Xander!"

"Yes, I know, but why is it still here?" Xander responded.

"Jimmy!" Anya cried, running over to the goat. "You're back!" Jimmy ninnied, seeming happy to see her as well.

"Look! Just look!" Willow cried, plucking at the now non-existent tail of the sweater.

"Will, I didn't know it would - wait, the goat's name is Jimmy?" Xander's head whipped around, momentarily distracted. Buffy stood and went over to Willow, putting her arm around her shoulders sympathetically.

"How bad is it?" she asked. In response Willow gestured to the sweater emphatically. "Oh."

"But this isn't the worst of it," Willow said, her eyes flashing accusingly at Xander.

"No, it's definitely not. Because Jimmy's still here," Xander responded in an equally blaming tone. "Shouldn't Jimmy be back in his happy Viking home?"

"Don't be silly, Xander," Anya responded, rubbing noses with her goat happily. "Don't you remember? My parents gave us the goat as a wedding present. There was a toast." Xander stared at her blankly for a moment, then a flood of memory made his shoulders sag.

"A toast?" he repeated weakly.

"Well, two toasts, actually. One for the giving of the gift, the other for the naming..."

"Oh! Oh! The goat toast! I remember that one!" Buffy said excitedly. The others looked askance at her, and she quickly returned to topic. "So, Jimmy's gonna be a permanent resident of Sunnydale, then? Well, it could be..." she began as the goat sneezed and disappeared in a puff of purple smoke, then finished lamely "...worse."

"Jimmy? Jimmy! He never used to do that," Anya said, wide-eyed. She joined Xander and Buffy in looking toward Willow for an explanation.

"The worst of it," she began emphatically, annoyance flashing in her eyes, "is that he ate up pretty much all of the herbs and roots Tara and I have blessed for magick."

"Which means...goat can go poof?" uttered Xander feebly.

"Where did he go?" Buffy asked, and Willow shrugged, giving Xander a smug smile that made him shudder.

"Not really sure. But the first time he did it, he didn't go far."

"How not far is not far?" Xander queried apprehensively. Willow hesitated, taking a deep breath and a step back in anticipation.

"Found him in Buffy's closet."

A stricken blonde Slayer rushed out of Xander and Anya's apartment.

A stricken new bride ran into her bedroom, crying shrilly for her goat.

A stricken young quasi-Viking carpenter turned to his best friend, who arched an eyebrow at him.

"Save me?" he quavered. She eyed him speculatively. "Please?"

"Two conditions," she pronounced solemnly.

"New sweaters and mystical herb stuff?" Xander guessed.

"That's one condition."

"It's two things-" Xander started to protest, but the witch cut him off sharply.

"Are we quibbling?"

"No, no...no quibbling...what's condition number two?"

Willow's smile was all at once tentative and sad.

"Forgive me," she said, though it came out almost like a question. "Be my best friend."

At that Xander gathered her into a hug.

"God, Will. You don't have to...I love you and nothing's ever gonna change that," he said quietly, kissing the top of her head. "And I'm sorry."

"Me too," Willow choked back a sob.

"About the goat, I mean."

"Uh-huh, me too. The goat and...everything."

The goat was in their closet. He could hear Anya admonishing Jimmy in the other room, her tone still extraordinarily jubilant. Xander felt a rush of affection towards his new wife, followed by a strange sense of peace. Life with Anya would be quite the adventure, but he was ready for it. A magickally disappearing goat was not that big of a deal, really. Scarcely a blip on the Hellmouth radar. Of course, Buffy would likely soon return to kick his...goat...but he remained content in his Willow-y hug until a thought occurred to him. A teasing smile played on his lips.

"Will?"

"Mmmm?" the witch murmured happily, her head against his chest.

"That's two things. You know, forgive you *and* be your best friend..."

Willow pulled away, her face solemn. Playing along.

"Are we quibbling?" Willow challenged, her eyes dancing. Xander laughed softly.

"Nah. Just, you know. Trying to get your goat."

*******

All done (finally)! Hope you liked. :)