Summary: Xander is thinking about the woman in his life.
Spoilers: Minor through the third season.
Disclaimer: Joss, all Joss, all the time!
Rating: PG
Feedback: Yummy.
For Tracy.

The first time I almost fell in love was on a dark night next to the
cemetery. Willow and I had been walking, playing the movie quote game, and
then she had hopped onto the short brick wall next to the sidewalk. And,
suddenly, she was different.

We had been talking about Buffy. But, for the first time since Buffy had
left two months before, my mind wasn't on her. It was on the girl in front
of her, the girl who's red hair was highlighting her face. The girl who knew
everything about me, the girl who I could count on to always laugh at my
jokes. The girl who had grown up in seconds and was smiling, her face inches
from mine. I don't know why I never noticed before.

Well, that's not entirely true. I noticed. I noticed the soft curves she
was filling into, and the way her hair seemed to get silkier each day. But I
sort of shoved those thoughts into the back of my mind, not wanting to
complicate things. Especially when one of the things was my friendship with
my best friend. The one thing I had always been able to rely on.

But there she was, still my best friend and more, smiling that beautiful
smile that I had never allowed myself to see before. Her eyes twinkled in
the dark light and I wanted to kiss her. More than anything, I wanted to
fall.

It was just like... Like everything had shifted, in a matter of minutes. The
world had changed. And I knew that if I kissed her then, just once, nothing
would ever be the same again.

I wish I had, thinking back. I wish that that damn vampire hadn't
interrupted us, I wish that I had allowed things to change as they should
have that night. But he did, and I didn't. That was when I almost fell.
That was the night I almost gave everything up. I should have done it then.
Because in thinking I would do it later, in putting it off, I had no idea
what I was going to be losing.
* * * * * *

Later, I had Cordelia, and the thoughts about Willow almost disappeared. She
wasn't gone, of course, shining quietly but there, on the edge of my sight.
And then she found out about Cordelia, and all I can remember about that
night, excluding even what was happening to Buffy, was her ragged breathing
and simple phrase that I'd rather be with someone I hated than with her.

It was true. But not really.

See, with Cordelia, I had nothing to be afraid of. Kissing her, dating her,
even caring about her didn't pose the same threat as doing all of those
things with Willow. Because what would happen if it didn't work out? What
would happen if, against all odds, we came out of the relationship hating
each other? I didn't think I could live with that. I probably couldn't.

So, I broke her heart for what seemed like the millionth time in our
friendship and let her run away thinking that I could never love her, let her
think that she'd been a fool to love me. Maybe she had. Maybe it was only a
fool who *could* love me. I didn't know. Still don't.

Things deteriorated quickly after that. I was so jealous of Oz-- I can admit
that now-- because he had the person I had willingly given up. And just to
look at her, it was obvious that she was forgetting me more and more every
second she was around him, and that he filled most of her thoughts.

But... Sometimes...

Sometimes I would catch her staring at me from across the room with that sad
smile on her face. Sometimes she would be blinking back tears and then she
would turn away when she caught me looking at her, and I would know that she
was thinking about me and her and us in a way that never was. I thought
about her too.

As much as I loved Cordelia by that point, I still loved Willow in a way that
no other relationship could compete with. She knew me as intimately as I
knew myself, knew my thoughts and gestures and jokes and worries maybe better
than she knew her own. And, for the longest time, I could say the same
thing. That I was the guy who knew everything about her. But soon I
couldn't see past the glass in her eyes when she looked at me. Soon, they
were just pretty green eyes, and I couldn't see deeper to know if she was
happy or her heart was breaking or she was nervous or afraid.

I hated that.

So when she went into the hospital, I finally confessed what had been
weighing on my mind for months. That I loved her. She woke up to my words.

But she woke up to his voice.

I don't know how I acted like it didn't matter. I don't know if I could have
done that if I didn't love her so much. But she had woken up and asked for
Oz, and I went away to get the doctor. A rush of hate filled me for the boy
who had paid more attention to her than I had ever allowed myself to. But
there wasn't time for hate. Willow had woken up, and all I could do was be
relieved.

That kind of relief doesn't come often. It sort of filled my head, like a
person who's lived with chronic migraines their entire life, never knowing
any sort of peace from the pain, and then suddenly they're free from it, and
their head is clear. I don't know. I'm not good at analogies.
* * * * * *

The first time we kissed, it was just like... A puzzle. A finished puzzle.
And she was in my arms and her eyes were shining and her body and skin and
dress were so soft against my hands, and her lips looked so warm, and I felt
like I had finally come home again. Whatever that means.

And then our mouths met and it was a thousand instant sparks, everything I
had known it would be when I allowed myself to imagine. Neither of us
planned it. But it couldn't have been more perfect if we had.

Of course, the timing was all wrong. It always seemed to be wrong with us.

But that didn't stop us from doing it again, and again. It wasn't that I was
seeing Willow for the first time, because I had done that a long time ago,
but it was that I was actually falling for her, despite the repercussions I
had always been worried about, despite the fact that our friendship might be
irreparable over those few hot kisses. It didn't matter. Because I finally
let myself want her. I finally let myself think about her.

And I did. From the second I woke up to the time I went to bed, she pretty
much haunted me. When we were in a room together, no one else was with us,
and the world faded away, and I knew that, more than anything, I just wanted
to kiss her again. I wanted to be with her.

But, more than that.

I wanted her to be with me.

I don't know how we remained friends after we were caught by Cordelia and Oz.
I can only guess that we have some sort of unbreakable bond, something about
us that makes it impossible for us to not love each other. Or, at least, for
me to not love her.

But she loved me still. I could feel it, in a way I never had before. As
much as she loved Oz, she loved me more. She always would. There was
nothing that he or any other guy could ever do to make that different. So I
let her love me from afar, and did the same, because I knew that, as much as
she loved me and I loved her, she needed Oz then. She needed to be with a
guy who had never broken her heart, who had always been there when she needed
him. A guy who actually deserved her.

Except that might not be quite true. No guy really deserves her.

Especially not me.
* * * * * *

So as I look at her now and she looks at me, I wonder if things are finally
going to fall into place. She's been broken up with Oz for about a year,
though they remain really good friends, and Cordelia and I barely get a
chance to speak, but when we do, things are friendly and simple. Willow
hasn't been near the dating scene since she and Oz broke up, and I haven't
either, for far longer than that.

Since I realized I was in love with her.

What would be the point of dating if I was already in love?

We've been staring at each other for a long time now. Silent, easy,
comfortable, warm. All the good feelings that come with knowing someone your
entire life and loving them almost as long are there. I wonder if she feels
it. I wonder if it matters.

She breaks the silence, her voice soft and gentle. "I hope you feel it too."

I break into a smile-- I can't help it, I had forgotten that she knew how to
read my mind. I always forget the important things. So I nod somberly and
she lets her mouth turn up in the sweet smile she's perfected and she takes
my hand across the table.

"Feel like dancing?" I ask.

She licks her lips and I watch the gesture. After a moment she smiles again.
"Sure."

We stand in the middle of her room and she slips into my arms comfortably and
we start swaying to the music. Some song by Lisa Loeb is on, a song that
sounds vaguely familiar, and the whole setting feels right.

I wonder briefly how we got here, how lucky I must be to have gotten here
with her. One moment we're children, playing on the merry go round at the
local park, the next we're growing up way too fast, and then we're suddenly
college students, studying in her room, thinking about everything but our
work. And now we're dancing. Like we should be. Like it always should be.

Her arms slide up my waist and lock around my neck and I can feel her
fingernails lightly scratching my scalp. She smiles.

"It took us too long to get here, Willow."

"I know," she whispers, "But it was worth the wait, wouldn't you say?"

"For me or for you?" I tease. She rolls her eyes, snuggling comfortably into
my arms. I rest my forehead against hers, looking into her eyes. Those eyes
in my dreams every night. "Of course for me."

And then her mouth is on mine and mine is on hers and we're kissing, and it's
better than it ever was because the timing is right and so are our hearts and
the music and the setting and the future. Our breath mingles in the kiss,
and her mouth opens shyly under mine and I suddenly realize that we haven't
done this in a pretty long time.

Funny, it seemed like we had been doing this forever.

So I accept her invitation and lightly lick her lower lip before sinking my
tongue into her mouth. Her mouth is hot and wanting and tender and I groan
into the kiss as her hands drift over my face.

We pull back from each other, and she rests her head against my chest and I
put my chin on top of her hair. It smells like apples.

And I know that everything is going to be all right. That this is the
perfect time for this to happen, and since I somehow knew it would, all my
regrets are gone. In fact, I'm grateful for that time, so long ago, spending
time with her in the warm air of the summer night by the cemetery. This
might not have happened so flawlessly if it wasn't for that night. That
great night.

The first time I almost fell.

The End

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