Summary: When Willow comes back into town after years of being gone, Xander has to find a way to understand and deal with some things.
Spoilers: Minor through the third season.
Disclaimer: Joss made the characters. I like to think he did it so that I could mess with them on occasion.
Rating: PG
Thanks to Rebecca for the help and the advice on the Pulp-fiction glowy thing (I'm taking that advice. < g >), and to Tracy, just because she's who she is.

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A Smile Like Yours was nominated for 1999 Golden Frog Awards in the categories of Best Tear Jerker/Sadfic and Best 2-6 Part Fic.

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August 10, 2008

It didn't seem possible that he was looking at her. Seeing her face, after so many-- too many-- years of hoping and praying for this day to come. And now it finally had, and he hadn't the slightest clue of what to say. Unplanned, a surprise meeting... It had never been pictured this way.

Staring into her eyes in the middle of a nearly empty parking lot, too many thoughts rushed into his mind for him to grasp all at once. Her eyes. Her hair. Her smile.

And all those years ago.

* * * * * *

January 1, 2002

"Where is she?" Xander shouted, running up to the counter.

The nurse looked at him calmly, the flicker of a smile turning up her mouth. She nodded knowingly. "Your first?"

He nodded impatiently. "And she started having heavy contractions about four hours ago. I've been in LA. What room is she in?"

The nurse stared at him, and Xander finally smiled. "Sorry. Her name is Willow Harris."

The nurse typed it up and then gestured down a long hall. "Room 409," she directed. "Down the hall, turn left, and the room is on the right."

Xander gave a hurried grin of thanks and bolted, flying down the corridor, barely managing to not run into the equipment and machines in his way. Looking anxiously around, he finally located the room and burst in, breathless, wanting nothing more than to be with his wife.

Willow looked up in a panicked haze. Her face was twisted in pain, and her hair was plastered to the side of her face. Xander rushed to her side, lifting her hand eagerly. Willow clutched at him. "No more kids, promise me," she demanded through gritted teeth.

Xander laughed, glad she wasn't mad at him for being late. "Whatever you want. And some ice cream on top of that."

Willow nodded, her body relaxing as the pain eased a little. Xander turned to the doctor that was leaning between his wife's' knees. "Two weeks early. This is two weeks early. Is something wrong?"

The doctor looked up with a brief smile. "Not at all. Everything is very fine, Mr. Harris. The baby monitor is showing a healthy child and your wife started pushing about twenty minutes ago." He leaned down again as Willow's face crunched and she began breathing heavily.

Xander coached her. "Whoo... whoo..."

Willow paid no attention. "Get outta my face, Xander," she gasped, breathing in deeply and then using her strength to push something way too big out of something way too small. She held her breath, tears streaming down her face.

"Is the Demerol working?" the doctor asked as she went limp again, leaning her head against her husband's shoulder.

"A little," she muttered wearily. "But I should have gone for more."

"Don't worry, you'll be fine," the doctor chuckled, looking up again.

"And how exactly would you know?" Willow demanded petulantly as she felt the start of another contraction. "Have you been having any babies lately?"

He ignored her question, glancing down. "The baby is crowned. These next few minutes are going to be the hardest, and then you're done."

Xander looked worried, and squeezed Willow's hand. "Are you okay?"

Willow shook her head, crying silent tears as she pushed. Xander was alarmed. "Will, breathe!"

Willow did so, once, gasping in her breath and holding it again. She continued pushing, and the doctor made pleased sounds of affirmation. "Doing very good. One more and we're done."

"I can't do one more," she sobbed. Xander brushed the hair out of her face. "I just can't... Can't...."

"Well, I don't think you have much of a choice anymore, Willow," the doctor laughed. "Come on now. Push."

Willow lifted her head, praying that the pain would be over and gone.

And, suddenly, it was. There was a moment of complete silence in which she got her bearings back, as if a sheet between relief and torment were put up to ease her trouble. The world went black, and then gray, and then slowly white again as she opened her eyes. She turned her eyes to Xander, who was crying openly.

"You did so good," he murmured, planting kisses all over her cheeks and lips. "So good. You're beautiful. You're perfect."

Willow nodded weakly and knew something else was going on with her body, perhaps the delivering of the placenta, but she was a little numb at that moment, and nothing really mattered.

The baby finally cried.

Willow's eyes searched for her child, and finally landed on the crunched up, red little face that the nurse was cleaning; quickly and expertly. She held out her arms, shaking, wanting to really see, *really* see the person she had been picturing for the last nine months. The nurse smiled and brought the baby over, placing the tiny, crying, naked figure in Willow's arms. Then she placed a sheet over both of them, for Willow to wrap the baby with.

Willow nodded her thanks and feasted her eyes on the squirming child. "I love you," she whispered, kissing his little hands. "I love you so much..."

She turned to her husband, who was staring in as much rapt adoration. "Xander? Are we decided?"

He nodded briefly, not looking up from the new little miracle. "Rachel Cynthia Harris. Rachel," he said again, as if confirming the name of their daughter.

Willow echoed it, turning away from her husband, but touching his cheek softly with her fingertips. "Rachel. She's beautiful, isn't she?"

"She really is," he agreed quietly.

And though there were still a thousand other things going on-- the nurses cleaning things up, the doctor finishing with her, the machines beeping and buzzing-- the world slipped into a quiet and peaceful place as the baby stopped crying, and Willow and Xander felt like the three of them were the only people in the world.

* * * * * *

August 10, 2008

Xander finally licked his lips, which had gone dry at the sight of her. "What are you doing here?" he asked hoarsely.

The woman shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said hesitantly, brushing back her rich auburn hair with her hand. "I have a flat... I was wondering if you could tell me where there was a phone?"

Xander's mouth dropped open. It was Willow as sure as he breathed-- He had felt that she was near all day, but after feeling that a hundred times over the years, he tended to disregard it-- but she didn't recognize him. Xander looked down at himself. The only thing that was different in him was that his hair was shorter, and Willow had seen him through at least a dozen haircuts.

So what was wrong?

Curiously, he gazed at her, and she began to shift uneasily under the intensity of his eyes. "What's your name?" he finally asked.

"Cynthia," she murmured, her extraordinary green eyes locking with his. She gave a soft smile, a Willow smile, and stuck out her hand.

Xander stared at her hand for a moment, trying to decide if he was willing to touch her. At last he reached out his own, and took hers, her soft and warm grip, shaking it firmly.

"I'm..." His name, the name she had dubbed him all those years ago when they were children, stuck on his tongue. Trying another tack, he murmured, "Alex."

Willow nodded, pulling her hand away and biting her lip. "So, phone?" she prompted, and despite himself, Xander grinned.

"I'm sorry. I'm being rude. Thinking about my daughter, who's at home and waiting for me right now. I'm late and my friend who's watching her is going to kill me," he said in a rush, wanting to mention their child. Then he looked around. "You know, it's almost dark, and Sunnydale isn't really the safest of cities, no matter how small it is. There's a phone booth on the corner of that store, but why don't you come home with me and use mine?" he asked, knowing it was idiotic of him to offer.

But Willow nodded. They began walking in easy silence. After a moment, she said, "How do I know you're safe?"

"You just do," Xander said unhesitatingly, eliciting a laugh from her.

They reached the car and Xander let her in first, walking around to the other side to get in. Willow turned to him with a gentle smile. "You know what?" she asked.

"What?"

"You're right." She blushed. "I just do."

* * * * * *

August 10, 2008

Xander looked at her through the corner of his eye as he clenched the steering wheel to keep his hands from shaking. Something was different, wrong, but he didn't know exactly what. Though it was Willow and he knew it was, she was changed somehow. He glanced at his knuckles. They were white.

"So," he said as casually as he could muster without feeling casual at all, "You said your name was Cynthia?"

Willow nodded. "Yup."

Xander smiled. "That's my daughter's middle name."

Willow flashed him a grin. "I've always loved it, I think. I chose it myself."

Xander raised his eyebrows. "Why did you do that? Did you have a name before you changed it to Cynthia?"

Willow looked embarrassed. "So what's your daughter's first name?" she asked, changing the subject quickly-- But not quickly enough for Xander not to notice.

Still, he let it slide, a soft smile taking over his expression. His eyes lit up. "Rachel. She's beautiful. A very precious little girl. I spoil her rotten," he admitted. "But not so much that it goes to her head. Though, if she weren't my wife's child, it might. But she has my wife's gentle spirit... Very sweet and kind and fresh."

Willow smiled. "You're married then?"

Xander lifted his head curtly. "Yes. Did you think I wasn't?"

Willow reddened. "Kind of. You mentioned a baby-sitter. But that's just because I'm old fashioned. When and if I ever have kids, I'm going to be the one to stay at home."

"My wife was like that," Xander murmured.

"Was?"

"She disappeared about five years ago," he answered. "I've been looking for her ever since. No one knows what happened... Could we not talk about this?" Xander muttered bitterly, shooting her another look.

Willow shrugged easily. "Of course. I'm sorry. I know I tend to pry."

"So what do you do for a living?"

"I run a software company," she said brightly, pleased.

She didn't hear Xander's words, but the car was suddenly charged with tension and she didn't know why.

He had whispered, "I'll bet."

* * * * * *

September 29, 2003

Xander smiled into the phone. "I love you," he murmured.

"I love you back." He could hear her grin. "When will you be home tonight?"

"The club isn't closing until midnight tonight-- New comedy acts-- but I'm getting off at eight. I'll be there. I can't wait to see you," he said.

"Me too. I'm making lamb chops."

Xander's eyebrows rose at that. "Don't you remember what happened the last time you tried cooking with magic? We had to get our entire kitchen redone," he teased.

Willow laughed. "We did not! Just the... walls and stove, because they were a little charred. Anyway, I'm cooking the regular way now and--"

"Is that any better?" he chuckled.

"Oh shush. I'm going by a regular cookbook and using regular ingredients and it'll be great. We're having baked potatoes with it. Hold on, Rachel's crying."

"Will," Xander said before she put down the phone. "My break is almost over. I'm going to go and I'll see you when I get home, okay?"

"Okay, she murmured absently, and he knew she was carrying the cordless to the baby's room. "Hey, wait. If you call and I'm not here, don't worry. I'm going to Grover for the afternoon. I need to pick up something."

"I hope it's something special," he grinned, "Because Grover is forty-five minutes away. Are you taking Rachel?"

"Nope. Buffy's staying over since I'll be home in time to let her off for slayedge. And Xander," she said, lowering her voice until it was sultry and light, "It is something special."

He laughed and gave his final good-byes and "I love you"s before hanging up.

He hadn't known then that it would be the last time he would hear her voice for five long years.

* * * * * *

September 30, 2003

Buffy knelt next to the couch, taking her hands in his. Xander stared at her dully, waiting for what he knew was coming. Waiting for the chance to deny what he knew was coming.

"Something's happened to her, Xander. Something wrong. We need to start looking," she murmured compassionately, patting Rachel, who was comfortably asleep in her father's arms, softly on the back. "She's not coming back on her own, Xand. Willow would never have left you and Rachel for so long without calling and you know it."

"She's probably broken down," he muttered, glancing at the sky that was growing darker by the second. Almost twenty-four hours since he talked to her. Almost twenty-four hours, and his life might have been changed forever.

From something he couldn't even explain.

Buffy shook her head sadly, trying not to let the worry show on her face. "Even if it would take her this long to walk here from Grover, it wouldn't take her this long to find a phone to call us." She reached for the phone.

Xander slammed his hand down on top of hers. She looked at him in surprise. "I was just going to call Giles."

He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry. But could you call from my cell phone? I would rather keep this line free."

Buffy nodded after a moment, and then squeezed his hand before going into the other room to find the cellular phone. Xander gazed long and hard at the cordless, the phone that he had heard her voice on so recently, and so long ago.

"Call me, Will," he breathed. "I'm waiting."

* * * * * *

But she never called. Xander grimaced as he remembered the searches, the non-stop prayers that she would be found. It never even occurred to him that she might have just left, might have just decided that her life wasn't fulfilling enough, might have just ran away to change her name and gather a whole new life. At least, it had never occurred to him until that night.

They pulled up in his driveway. Xander looked out at the first few stars that appeared, wishing on them like he and Willow used to do when they were young. ~Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight...~ He wasn't exactly sure what he was wishing for, but it didn't seem to matter much at that moment.

Willow stepped out of the car, looking at the house in appreciation. "This is a beautiful home you have," she said, delighted.

Xander nodded modestly. "Thank you. My wife picked it out."

The house was two stories, with a porch that wound around it. A deep brown swinging chair hung by the door, and plants added glorious touches of color in the garden that surrounded the porch. Xander led her quietly up the front steps, and let her in, following after her.

He called out. "Buffy?"

Buffy appeared from the direction of the living room, running her hands through her hair. She smiled at him. "Rachel's asleep on the couch," she said with a grin. "We went to the playground this afternoon, and I think it wore her out."

Xander gave her a small smile of thanks, but she didn't see it because she was too busy noticing Willow standing next to him. Her jaw dropped open, and her eyes grew large and round.

Before she could say anything, Xander gave her a small, almost imperceptible shake of the head. She turned to him in confusion.

"Buffy," he introduced, "I'd like you to meet Cynthia. She needs to use our phone to call a tow truck."

Buffy, her eyes still wide, nodded slowly. "I- It's nice to meet you."

Willow nodded pleasantly. "You too." She leaned forward to take Buffy's hand and shake it, and Buffy had to work to not burst into tears.As soon as she let go, however, Buffy bolted to the door. She turned to Xander for what seemed like a half of a second. "I need to go to Giles's?" she said, the statement coming out as a question.

Xander nodded. "You might be late if you don't leave soon," he said quietly.

Buffy got the hint and dashed out of the door. Willow turned to Xander in amusement.

"Is Rachel a lively little girl?"

Xander laughed. "Sometimes. Buffy loves her a lot, but even I get exhausted after taking her to the park. She loves the merry go round."

"Who's Giles?" Willow asked idly, glancing around for the phone.

Xander gestured to the small table in the den that it laid on top of. She nodded, and he followed her into the room. "He's a friend of... ours. Sort of our surrogate father. We had a whole group going in high school, and he was the librarian there. It's a long story."

"Bore me," she said with a grin.

He smiled. "I might later. But first, make your call. Do you have the number?"

Willow lifted her purse. "Yep. Thanks. I'll be just a minute."

Xander nodded and exited the den, heading for the living room. Stepping up to the couch when he got there, he smiled as the television's light flickered against his daughter's face. Sitting down, he gathered her into his arms and brushed her hair away from her face tenderly, a light feeling overtaking his heart as she mumbled something. His arms tightened. No matter what, she was always going to be there with him.

He would watch her grow up and graduate, get married and have children of her own, and he would protect her so that she could do all those precious things. And she would love him. He would make sure that they always loved each other, because families were supposed to be about love.

His head jerked up as Willow came into the room.

Weren't they?

She sat down next to him, flicking on the light. She looked at their daughter and, though her face was pressed against Xander's chest, Willow smiled at the small form of her back and the way she curled against him trustingly.

Finally, she spoke. "The tow truck can't get here for another few hours. Is there a place you can recommend?"

Xander rolled his eyes. "Well, you're welcome to stay here until they come. Unless of course, you'd rather not for some unknown reason."

Willow smiled. "No. Thank you. I was hoping you would say that."

A grin flickered around Xander's lips. "It was your way of hinting that I invite you?"

She blushed "Something like that. Sorry."

"No apologies necessary." He paused. "So, where do you come from? What brings you to Sunnydale?"

Willow shook her head. "It's a long story."

Xander looked up; met her eyes. The smile that had been tugging at his mouth before blossomed sincerely.

"Bore me."

* * * * * *

August 10, 2008

"Well," Willow started out softly, "I don't really know where to start. I don't know who I was for about the first twenty-five years of my life. I can tell you that I'm about thirty, and what I've been doing for the last five years. I can tell you who I am *now.*"

"What do you mean?" Xander asked, alarmed. Then he gave a knowing smile. "You don't look thirty. Twenty-seven, tops."

Willow glanced away from him. "It's sort of strange to talk about. You'll probably not believe me."

Xander gave a short, sharp laugh. "I'll most likely believe anything you say to me."

"Okay then..." she shrugged. "I have amnesia. I woke up five years ago in a room, with a great deal of blood loss, and a bump on my head the size of Chicago. I didn't know who I was or where I was or anything, except that I had been taken to some sort of place and that I was hurting. Slowly, over the next year, I learned some things about myself that were useful. Otherwise, I might never be where I am now."

"What things?" Xander prodded gently, the explanation slipping into place.

"Like, I have a real talent for computers. That sort of thing. So I was able to get the business started. And, when I woke up, I had about a thousand dollars in my purse, but no identification or pictures of anything. No business cards. It was very confusing. So I gave computer-tutoring lessons to pay for college. I just went for two years and got all of the credits I needed to work how I wanted to. And now I'm moderately successful," she elaborated.

"Do you know who took you to that room, the room you woke up in?"

"No," she said quietly, saddened. "I don't know anything about who I was, or what happened to bring me there. That's actually what I was doing in Sunnydale. I had carried around that purse for years, because it was the only thing I had that was a link to my other life, and then one day last week, the strap broke. I was going to sew it back on when I discovered a small, hidden pocket in it. I still can't believe I had never seen it before. Anyway, it had a card in it. It read, 'Rupert Summers, Sunnydale California.' "

Xander leaned back against the couch, still cradling Rachel to him as memories washed over. The card that they had kept in case they had ever forgotten the password. The card that would ensure that the Watcher's Council gave them information if they needed it, when the rules of the Watcher's Council had been changed so many years ago. Xander didn't understand how he had forgotten.

"Code-words, maybe?" he suggested mildly.

Willow's brow furrowed. "I don't know. Perhaps. So I came to Sunnydale and looked that name up, but there is no Rupert Summers here. I've been trying to find back phone books, hoping that he lived here and knew me and that maybe I would be able to track him down and ask him questions." She paused. "I know it all seems strange, very strange, but it's the only hope I had. The doctors have said that my memory could return at any time. Temporary amnesia, they called it," she said with a quiet laugh. "Is five years temporary?"

"No," Xander confirmed, wishing he could hold her as he used to. "You should have found out a long time ago."

Her eyes met his, startled. "What do you mean?"

Xander ignored the question. "So, there was nobody in that room you woke up in? You just walked out?"

"The sun woke me up. It was a nice feeling, if you can believe that. Almost too normal. One of the windows in the place had been broken and the sunlight was washing over my eyes. I got up and looked around and..." She trailed off, embarrassed.

"What?"

"Well, it's stupid, but I don't see how anyone could have brought me there. Dust covered almost all of the floor. Though not the tables, if that makes any sense. And, under the dust in one place, was a letter." She took it out of her purse and handed it to him, explaining, "I kept it. I thought that it might be a clue, too."

Xander read it out loud. "Slayer, you had better deliver the books or we don't return the girl." He looked at Willow. "And it was covered in dust?"

"Yes. Dust."

* * * * * *

September 29, 2003

Willow took out her cell phone, glancing at the setting sun. She was running way too late, and the store had just barely promised to hold that expensive negligée she had seen. She was proud of herself that she had been able to afford it. She knew Xander would love it, though it was hundreds of dollars. And it was all her money, too. She would never be happier doing what she was doing, running a small software company from her home so that she could watch over her husband and Rachel. ~The life I always dreamed of...~

But she had better call Buffy to tell her that she would be late.

Willow stepped out of her car in front of the store, glancing around nervously. Darkness had set in. Vampires were soon to set out. She punched in her home number, and cursed when her phone didn't work. She knew she should have charged the battery before she left home.

As she reached the door, a hand clamped over her face. She struggled, trying to find the spray bottle of holy water in her purse, and the stake, but it was useless. The growling vampire clubbed her on the back of the head, sinking his fangs into her neck.

Another vampire flicked his ear, annoyed. "Geez, Bruce, can't I leave you alone for a minute? We need the girl alive in case the Slayer insists on talking to her."

Finally, Bruce managed to yank his teeth away from the bleeding skin. He licked his mouth. "Sorry Mike. Instinct, I guess."

"Yeah, whatever. Just get her in the van."

Bruce hefted her into the vehicle, and Willow thought dully, as she faded in and out of consciousness, that the floor was cold and hard and uncomfortable. They drove for a while, every bump in the road giving her another bruise, and stopped after a long time. Willow opened her eyes sleepily as she saw herself being carried into a warehouse.

Once she was inside, they dumped her unceremoniously on the floor. A vampire nest, she realized.

She just needed a little sleep, and then she would be able to work all of it out.

* * * * * *

September 30, 2003

When she woke up, she noticed several different things. First, her watch hadn't been broken. It was two, but she didn't know if that meant day or night. Second, her purse had been rifled through, as if someone had been looking for something. Her drivers license had been taken out, as well as the pictures of Xander, Rachel, Buffy and Giles that she had filled her wallet with. Third, that they hadn't managed to find the hidden pocket with the secret code on it. And last, that her neck and head hurt like hell.

~I've been bitten.~ she realized, surprised. Aloud, she said in a shocked tone, "I've never been bitten before. Always managed to avoid that."

Okay, so she was trying to keep her sanity by talking to herself. She realized the irony of it all.

Glancing around, she noticed that while most of the windows had been boarded up, one of them had not. That was the one she would break. Looking at the sleeping vampires around her, she almost laughed at how stupid they were. It was daytime. And didn't they know that one of them was always supposed to keep an eye on the prisoner?

First, she tried to door. Locked.

She looked for the key, and finally spotted it hanging around the neck of one of the demons. Deciding not to risk it, she picked up a long, loose plank. The window would break, she was sure of it. And she would be able to make her escape while the vampires were burning to dust.

Willow sent a silent prayer, that she hoped would reach her husband and child.

And she slammed the window with all her might.

Shards flew in a thousand directions. Immediately, the six vampires burst into flames. Willow tried to scramble out of the window as quickly as she could, but one of the vampires, Mike, she thought, grabbed hold of her waist and yanked her back inside, burning though he was. He jerked the plank from her hands as he was lit ablaze, and slammed it down on the back of her head.

Willow's first thought was of Xander.

~I'm sorry, my love. I didn't mean to leave you.~

Her last thought was of Rachel.

~I'm so sorry. I'll always love you.~

* * * * * *

August 10, 2008

A horn honked. Xander looked up in dull shock. He couldn't let her leave, could he? Not after losing so many years with her, years in which they were supposed to be raising Rachel together. Willow looked at him, eyes full of regret.

"I think that's my ride," she said softly.

Xander nodded mutely, not knowing how to say what was screaming to get out. Willow handed him a card.

"This is my card. ...I really enjoyed talking to you, Alex."

"Likewise," he said in a raspy whisper. "So, your memory could come back at any time?"

She nodded. "The doctors say so."

Xander opened his mouth to speak, but Rachel shifted and he turned his attention to her. She rolled over on his lap, her eyes fluttering open. "Daddy?"

"Yeah, button?" he asked affectionately.

"Is mommy here?" Her eyes flickered up to Willow, who was looking at her face in something like shock.

Xander hesitated, trapped.

Willow licked her lips, her gaze lifting to Xander. "She has your eyes," she finally murmured softly, not knowing what else could be said.

Xander couldn't help himself. The words slipped out on their own. "And a smile like yours."

Tears welled in Willow's gaze. Her mouth went dry. "Xander?" she whispered slowly, as if confused.

"That's not what I said my name was," he instantly corrected with a smile, his heart feeling like it was about to explode.

"You didn't need to tell me."

They looked at each other for a single second in which everything fit back into the place it had used to, a single moment in time where everything was as it was and as it always should have been.

Willow flew into his arms.

"I'm sorry, Xander," she sobbed. "I'm sorry."

Xander rushed to put his arms around her, soothing her, feeling more emotion than he had allowed himself to feel since she had left. He pet her hair back, wiped off her tears, loving her. "Don't be. It wasn't your fault. None of it. I love you. I love you."

She clung to him in a tearful embrace, not wanting to let go.

Rachel, who had rolled off Xander's lap as Willow and Xander embraced, stared at her mother for a long time. She twisted her hair around her finger, happy and sad and not knowing how to show it. Finally, she ran into the hug and planted herself between them, letting herself be besieged by kisses and warmth and a long lost love.

The horn honked again.

"Do you want me to go tell them to shove it?" Willow mumbled against Xander's mouth, tasting the salt of his lips for the first time in too long.

Xander held her closer, held both of them closer, and shook his head.

"I don't want you to go anywhere."

The End

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