The Chosen One Trilogy

By Spurglie

"Go girl, seek happy days to happy nights"
~ Romeo and Juliet

Sometimes I really miss the good ol' Sunnydale High library.

It smelt good in there. Kind of like faint cotton candy and old books. I guess you could say that was where it started for me. That was where I first heard about vampires and slayers. The end of my true childhood and the beginning of something else. Something completely and utterly insane. You always knew that you could find Giles there. Probably with a book in either hand and a cup of tea perched somewhere nearby. Wearing tweed. Who could forget the tweed?

It was familiar there. Homey even.

Okay, so it saw its fair share of action. There were demons and death for us there just as much as anywhere else. But still, it was our place. Slayer Central. Back when we were still a family. Close knit and honest and... were we ever really *that* young? Also - the most "action" action the library saw was the occasional stolen kiss between Giles and Miss Calendar. And yeah, okay you got me. That one time when Cordelia and me were looking for a particular spell book in the stacks and the sun was setting so very picturesquely right outside the window and there was magic in the air...

It's almost funny to think of Cordy and me like that now. It all seems so long ago.

Still, I miss the library. I never had to sit at the table there and concentrate really hard just to not be picturing the woman... the demon I loved having sex with Spike - with Spike - on top of it. I can't help it. Sometimes it's all I can see.

Sometimes... okay and this part is really bad... sometimes it's Buffy I see instead of Anya. I can't help it. I have the home movie version emblazoned on my memory and it's like sometimes my sick and twisted brain decides that the part of Anya the Cheating Ex-Fiancée with be played by Buffy, the Recently Resurrected Vampire Layer. And no, I didn't miss an 'S' there. I still don't get it. I've been trying not to give Buffy a hard time about it, which, granted, was a whole lot easier when Spike left town. At least Anya was drunk. At least she was lonely and trying to get back at me in some way.

Which makes it my fault. What could be worse than me stuffing up my whole life and then on top of that I manage to get Spike laid? Answers on a postcard to this address.

She's behind me serving a customer right now. The vengeance demon who enjoys her money so much that she still works as a shop girl. The Magic Box actually got ripped off last week when she got unexpectedly called away to wreak her vengeance for a poor unfortunate soul somewhere in the southern hemisphere. She didn't have time to lock up and so by the time she got back most of the jewellery display was gone and the register had been emptied.

I wonder if she cried.

We've reached a point of polite tolerance now. We're maybe even teetering on the brink of being friends again, but I'm not holding my breath. Too much has happened.

I'm playing at being "almost friends" with a demon. I cannot stress how strange it feels to hear myself admit that. Neither me nor Buffy want to confront her about what she gets up to when the wrinkle-face comes out to play. We know that it's evil and we should be stopping her - but it's still just Anya. She's exactly the same person as when she was just human, which gives me an infinite amount of headache inducing thoughts as to what that says about me - her ex-finance.

The one who scorned her. The one who loved her.

She doesn't use her powers much in front of us; the occasional spell, the infrequent twinkly teleportation when she's in a hurry. That helps us when we want to ignore what it is she does. I almost got Buffy to talk about the idea of putting a stop to Anya's extra-curricular activities one day not long after... hold on, I can say it... not long after the Wedding that Wasn't. Anya had just *poof* disappeared in the middle of a conversation, leaving me and Buffy staring as the empty space where she'd been standing.

'Well that was rude,' Buffy had grumbled.

'Buff,' I said, sort of managing not to look her in the eye, 'about Anya. Don't you think we should...'

That was as far as I got. Whatever I had been about to say, Buffy didn't want to hear it.

'She's with us,' Buffy said firmly. 'Maybe not 100% of the time, but she's with us.'

Then she gave me one of those patented Buffy Summers haunted looks that sucker me in. Every. Single. Time.

'There's evil in all of us, Xander. I just don't want to lose anyone else. Not even Anya.'

Now trust me, I know flawed logic when I hear it, but I let it go. I could have argued my case a hundred different ways. Maybe Buffy would have had to agree with me and we'd have planned on a course of action. Maybe she would have slapped me down and told me to let the matter rest.

But I let it go. I didn't want to lose her either.

I keep saying things will be okay. I have to. I can't stop believing that there's a reason for all this madness or I'll just stop trying. You stop trying in this town and you get dead pretty darn fast. What use would I be to anyone lying in the ground?

So here I sit. Dutifully researching the latest *yawn* big bad. We've defeated everything evil that this world, and a couple of others, have to throw at us, along with some really twisted shit that we managed to come up with all by ourselves, and yet they keep on coming. The demon I'm trying to find this time was one I saw last night hanging around all suspicious and creepy in one of our many illustrious cemeteries. So no violence or death as of yet, just a siting. Maybe it was doing a little recognisance? Watching the Slayer in action for some future evil it has planned? Whatever.

So I'm researching. Trying not to think too hard about this table.

Dawn came out with us again last night. I was never happy about Buffy's decision to teach her how to slay, but I guess that Summers' blood really does run in her veins. I don't know if she got some of the Slayer gene when the monks made her or if it's a Key thing, but when she fights... it's like I've stepped back in time five years and I'm watching Buffy.

It's just so odd. On one hand it's kinda cool and I can't help but feel so proud of her. On the other hand? It breaks my heart. She has it all ahead of her. A whole life of demons and monsters. We could just walk away, but it's a part of Dawn. Just as surely as it's a part of Buffy.

Aw hell. Who am I trying to kid? If I could have walked away I would have done it by now. This is it for me. I'll never be able to quit, and one day that'll be what gets me killed. Maybe someone else will step up to take my place. Maybe the waters will close silently over my head and just let me slip away quietly.

Huh. Listen to my inner poet. Beautiful, ain't it? If only things were as pretty in reality.

Pretty like Willow. She couldn't walk away either. Would never even consider it as an option. Our little trouper who was so strong and who fought so hard and loved so much that she nearly destroyed the world.

And I saved it.

I used to play in the sandbox with the little girl who became the most powerful witch in history and tried to kill everyone.

And I stopped her.

We visit her every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon now. Dawn brings flowers to brighten up her room and Buffy tells her stories about dumb customers at the Doublemeat or any of the "funnier" demon bashings where we slayed before anyone got hurt. We think it works better that way. We don't talk about any of the bad stuff in front of her. Nothing that might remind her of... yeah.

Like we could ever forget.

I tell her jokes and talk about the good old days. The days when we were just kids. Me and Willow and Jesse. God, how long has it been since I really remembered him? Just another kid who got chewed up and spat out by this town. All he really did was serve as a warning to those of us left behind. Jesse. My friend Jesse was taken before he even had a chance to find out what it was that did the taking. I forget sometimes that he never knew any of what I know. Can he see us now? I wonder what he would have to say about how it's all turned out.

Dawn likes it when I tell the Barbie story. I swear if I have to tell it one more time I'll scream. But I won't. I'll smile and I'll talk. I'll even do the funny voices and the actions replays if it keeps Buffy and Dawn smiling along with me. It's really them I do it for. I'm not sure if I'd be clowning quite so much if it was just me and Willow in that too white room. I can't... I mean...

Shit.

What I mean is no one else saw her on that hilltop. Nobody knows just how close she came to actually doing it. The Master. Angelus. The Mayor. Adam. Glory. Between us we found the power to stop them. We found out that the plural of apocalypse is just the surprisingly quite dull 'apocalypses'. But Willow? She had 'em all beat. She had no intricate plan relying on the actions or strength of others to succeed. No minions, no demons, no armies, no keys and no time scale. She stole all that raw power and moulded it with her will. It was all inside her. We couldn't have stopped her if she'd really wanted to finish what she started. Nothing on this earth could have stopped her.

But I did.

And I meant what I said, you know. In spite of it all, I still love her. She's my family. My Willow. I'm just so scared that she's lost to us anyway.

They keep her pretty well doped up in the hospital. "For her own safety". I just don't feel like smiling when I see that blank look in her eyes. That emptiness.

We couldn't get her back this time. How could she come back from something like that? None of us - not Angel, not Spike and not even Buffy have had to face anything like Willow's demons. Something broke inside of her that day. After Tara... and then the whole 'trying to end the world for its own good' thing? The doctors say they're making slow progress and that our visits help her, but I wonder.

Little Willow Rosenberg. Willow the geek. Willow the hacker. Willow the nerd. Willow my oldest friend.

Willow the purest spirit I ever knew.

She fell so far. I wonder if I'll ever see her back in that too pale thin body that's currently lying in the hospital bed in padded restraints.

I guess that's one more thing to help keep my mind off this damn table.

Urgh. It's too early in the day for such depressing thoughts. Okay. Concentrating now. Demon. Two arms. Two legs. One head. Kind of spiny head. No obvious horns, fangs, spikes or other sticky out limbs. White skin, so bad with the camouflage... maybe smart enough not to need to hide? Usually wears robes? Lives at the North Pole?

Hmm.

Not all *grrr*, preferring to hang back and watch from the shadows. So what does that mean? It's harmless? Timid? It just likes to watch?

Gnngh. I throw the pencil I'd been chewing onto the - ick - table in frustration. Far as I can tell, the white demon looks a little like the hellbeasty type on the page in front of me. Only thing is - wrong colour, watching from the shadows is way out of character, it doesn't come to this dimension much and I shouldn't be able to see it if it was here.

Great. So I'm either getting nowhere fast or I'm seeing things.

Have I mentioned how much I really truly *hate* researching? Especially solo-researching. I want to get out of here, but duty comes first. We see this guy again and he turns out to be a threat to Buffy, I wanna at least know a little about him; at most know what'll stop him, or I'd never forgive myself. I rub little soothing circles on my temples. My head hurts like a mother. Maybe I need glasses. Or maybe I've just been thinking too much.

There's someone standing behind me. They're reading over my shoulder. Maybe Anya's decided to take an interest? A hand lays gently on my shoulder and I catch the faintest whiff of burgers.

That actually makes me smile.

'Hey Buffster,' I say without turning.

'Hey you,' she replies. 'Whatcha found out about our mystery guy?'

'Nothing much. I can't find him anywhere. It's almost like he's a hellbeast,' I point at the page in front of me, 'Mr. Completely Unpronounceable here, but he doesn't quite fit the height requirement. I was just about to give up.'

'Throwin' in the towel, huh?'

The hand leaves my shoulder and she sits beside me, back to front in her chair so that she can rest her cheek against its wooden back. She looks at the page as she speaks and there's something in her eyes... almost like a crinkle of laughter. It's odd, but then Buffy sometimes finds humour in strange things.

'I wouldn't worry too much about this guy, Xander. I've seen that type around before. They're, uh, not much for the trouble causing. Much.'

I nod, deferring to her judgement.

'So...' I lean back in my chair, stretching out my tired muscles. 'Toasted any good buns lately?'

'Shuddup,' but she smiles. 'I hate my job.'

'Ah, the motto of the working man. Right up there with "You don't have to be crazy to work here, but it helps".'

'That's the motto I keep for my other job.'

I smile in understanding. 'You do look pooped.'

'I'm the poopedest. Who woulda thought the fast food industry could be so tiring - and I have superhuman strength and stamina going for me!'

'I could have told you that.'

'Uh,' she manages to grunt in answer.

I grin again and find myself pulling the open book back towards me. I just don't like the idea of leaving this unfinished. Buffy watches me in silence for a while.

'Dawn out back?'

'Uh huh,' I say, still with my nose stuck in the book. 'She's meditating. Can you believe it?'

'Dawn is... she's meditating?'

'Yup. She wants to find her inner calm or something. Looks like whatever you've been teaching her; she's listening.'

'Looks like.'

She sounds surprised, but happily so.

'You're a good teacher,' I tell her sincerely.

'Thanks.'

'Actually-' I abandon the book again. 'I've been thinking. This Doublemeat deal is stupid. I have come up with a career path worthy of a Slayer.'

She knows how I feel about her working there. How we all feel about her working there, but what were we going to do? She needed the money.

'I'm listening.'

'Okay. Number one. Martial arts instructor. Or self defence? I mean, who knows more than you about fighting? Except possibly Bruce Lee, and he's dead so you win by default. Better pay, better hours, plus training while you work.'

'Uh huh,' she says, considering my suggestion. 'I have no official training or qualifications and would be required to teach regular classes, some of which would be at night which means that, much like college, I would be required to skip classes on a similarly regular basis until that not so far off day comes when I get fired.'

'Ah,' I reply. There's really no need for her to let a little thing like common sense overshadow my grand scheme for her life - entitled Help Fix Buffy.

'But I'm sensing a number two,' she says brightly, seeing my crestfallen expression.

'Yeah?' I deadpan. 'Well the bathroom's right out back...'

'Xander!'

I notice that while she may be exhausted she still manages to drum up enough energy to smack me on the arm.

'Gross!'

I grin (while tenderly holding my stinging arm) and move swiftly on.

'Number two,' - a quick dirty grin just 'cause it's still funny - 'is a little more... extreme.'

'Extreme?' she frowns, that cute little wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows. 'How so?'

'Well, here's the thing. You know the new mayor?'

'Mayor Simpson?'

'That's the one. So far he doesn't appear to be anything more than your average human politician type, right?'

'I didn't know you paid attention to politics.'

'Me? The high risk game of political espionage and one-upmanship that goes on in this fast paced little town?'

I go for indignant surprise, but she knows me too well and doesn't buy it for a second.

'Well... no. Of course I don't. But I do know who the mayor is, for obvious reasons.'

'Which are?'

'There's only been one since we blew up the last guy.'

'May he rest in pieces,' she says solemnly.

'Exactly. I say we go to him, make an appointment if we have to, tell him the deal about vampires and how you make the town a safer place and suggest that he put you on the payroll.'

'Riiiight.'

I can see she's not convinced.

'And he's just going to agree to this because...'

'It's Sunnydale. I'm guessing that he at least has some inkling of what goes on in the shadows around here, and if he doesn't... then we just prove it to him.'

'Interesting. If a little insane. I like it.' Her face fell. 'But you know, it'll probably just end up like the bank manager. I mean the guy saw me fight that bank-robbing demon and he still refused my loan application.'

'Buffy, no offence, but I'd refuse your loan application.'

For that I get the kicked puppy dog scowl that I so rightly deserve.

Moving swiftly on. 'But just think how much money you save the town every year.'

'What,' she asked, 'you mean with all the buildings that I burn down and houses that get trashed? ...ooh, not forgetting that I totalled an entire school for my graduation ceremony! And then there was the multimillion-dollar government installation that is no more, again thanks to me. Plus the broken windows, kicked in doors, knocked over lampposts, fires, huge gaping holes in the ground which open into hell dimensions...'

Trying desperately not to think about the one reason she isn't mentioning about knocking down a house (...Spike... I hit him, he hit me back. We fought. We... we had sex. The house fell down. I hate him. I hate myself and I'm. Not. Human...) I interrupt her tirade.

'Yeah and what about all the times you've stopped them? I'm thinking that having the whole world sucked into hell would be kind of costly to the taxpayer. We just explain it to him in a way that a politician understands and see if he doesn't put you on the payroll in no seconds flat.'

She eyes me somewhat suspiciously, but I can see that she's actually considering the idea. I know it sounds crazy, but I'm figuring that it couldn't hurt. What's the worst he could do? Turn into a giant snake and eat her for asking? Been there, done that, bought the snakeskin boots and the snazzy matching belt.

'Payroll, huh? As what?'

'Town protector? Security officer? Universe saver? I dunno. He can employ you as the world's first unsecret frickin' vampire slayer if he wants, but even if you only make minimum wage it still makes more sense than for a Slayer to be wasting forty hours a week in a burger bar!'

'Gee Xander, way to rag on a girl's chosen profession.'

I realise that I'm getting a little carried away. Anya is staring at us from across the room, one perfect eyebrow raised in question at my little outburst. Buffy has her hand over her heart in mock indignity. She's teasing me, but I can see the familiar pain in her eyes. So sue me. I got a little carried away.

'Uh, yeah. I just think that you of all people shouldn't be forced to live like this. It's just not the way it should have to be for you.'

I drop my gaze. 'I don't like to see you have to stoop. That's all.'

She lays a hand over mine on the table and squeezes gently.

'Thanks, Xander. I get it. I really do, and I know where you're coming from. It's actually not such a bad idea. So long as he doesn't have me arrested for trying to scam money from the government, I don't think it could hurt. Who knows, maybe he knows all about demons and vampires and he's actually against the idea.'

I can't help but grin again.

'A mayor who doesn't want to eat spiders and kill everyone? What a novel idea!'

She laughs and it sounds wonderful. Her hand leaves mine with a final light squeeze and she stands, going to find Dawn. I watch her walk away and then find myself looking back at the picture of the demon in front of me.

*Sigh*

I'll quit soon. Just a couple more chapters.

~~~

It's dark. It's dank. It's spooky. It's creepy and oppressive. Not to mention dangerous.

It's patrol night and it's all completely routine.

At least Dawn's not here tonight. That always makes me feel better, like I can focus a little more. The hell of it is, she's shaping up to be a better fighter than me. She moves so fast and she's quite the hellcat with a sword. She's still just a kid, though. She still bruises and bleeds just like us mere mortals. She still cries when she's hurt. She tries to hide it so we won't worry. She especially hides it from Buffy. Brave little trouper that she is.

However - the brave little trouper has a test tomorrow, and no amount of pleading was going to make Buffy overlook that. So while the Slayer and I take care of patrolling while she's at home studying with a cell phone by her side in place of a babysitter. We don't mention the 'B' word much these days. Babysitting was his job. He isn't welcome here anymore. Soul or not, those bridges are burnt for him and he knows it.

He came back again with his tears and his apologies. He played the 'if it was good enough for Angel' card and we foolishly accepted him back. Seems that the poet in our William didn't have quite the heavy burdened soul that kept Angel in check. Goddamn him.

I can't even think about what he tried to do... he fills me with this black rage and... and I can't think about him now. Buffy'll be able to see it in my face and the last thing she needs to see is my eyes when she asks me what's wrong and I lie to her and say nothing. Better... easier just to let the thoughts of him slip away. Let Angel take care of him now. The prodigal son returns to LA after a century of estrangement.

Let 'em rot there. They deserve each other.

Damn it. Where was I? Oh yeah, with the darkness and the dankness and the Slayer walking by my side. We've been chatting periodically, in between comfortable searching-the-night-for-potential-badness silences. The obligatory Doublemeat and construction worker stories have been told, the ever-hopeful Willow discussion and we've now moved on to the mundane, if actually more enjoyable discussions of *real life*. Life outside of work, sick friends or monsters. Apparently it still exists out there somewhere. We talked about a movie we'd watched recently, and a new pair of shoes that Buffy wanted desperately to buy, but was going to have to save up for. Shoes, hmm. Don't worry. I remembered to nod and say, 'uh huh?' and 'really?' in all the right places.

Normal stuff. Nice stuff. We somehow ended up talking about the circus. Something I'd said had reminded Buffy about the summer Dawn had spent trying to convince us to take her to the circus when it was in town. That, naturally, led to a discussion about the oddness of circus freaks and midgets. I had Buffy doubled up in laughter, clutching onto a gravestone for balance as I told her my best midget joke. I was just winding up to the punchline, pretty much guaranteeing tears of merriment for all, when the vampire attacked me.

*Wham!* He sliding-tackles me, knocking my legs from under me and immediately going for the throat. No pussyfooting around from this guy. Suffice to say I'm shitting my pants right about now. There is pain and the weight of a hungry demon on me and not forgetting my old friend Abject Terror... and then there is dust. Lost of beautiful floaty dust all over me.

Buffy is helping me up and dusting me off. I give her the 'hey bud, thanks for saving my life' grin and she shoots back the 'no problem, I got your back, but be more careful in future' grin.

We are a finely tuned slayin' machine. Vampires and demons beware.

Oh hell. Me and my big mouth. Looks like the vamp has company. Company of the large, hulking slavering fangy variety. Cue the fight sequence as Buffy goes Bruce Lee on their collective asses while I throw some punches and get tossed around a bit before actually managing to stake one of them. One of the larger hulks too, I might add. Luckily for me, I was seen as the lesser threat and only warranted one vampire while the other three went after the Slayer. The Slayer who looks like she could use my help right about now...

She has two of them on the ground and is fighting the third. It's a battle of strength and he's going for her throat, so I sneak up behind him and stake him while he's bent over her.

Another exchange of grins and then we have vamps 3 and 4 to take care of. Buffy leaps past me to take on vamp 3 who is doing a little sneaking up of his own, while vamp 4 is just getting back to his feet. There's a lot of grunting and growling with the occasional vicious deadly pun thrown in for good measure. I take a shot to the face and it feels like my cheek wants to cave in, but I have a damn hard head and will probably just be sporting an attractive black eye tomorrow. The vamp overextends and I manage to grab his arm, twisting his body around until I have him trapped against me. Then it's a relatively simple matter to shove my stake through his chest leaving me with an armful of nothing.

I spin around to see if I get to watch Buffy finish the other guy off or if she's gonna need my help.

Oh god.

'Buffy, no!'

He... the stake... it's in her side. She... no.

I turn slowly to the last vampire and frown at him curiously. He's just a vampire. I don't get it. How could he do that? He throws a punch at me that I dodge easily. I think I've ducked under it. My hand hurts because I've been smashing it into his face. He's growling and there's blood. There's a lot of blood. He's getting back to his feet.

He's just a vampire. I have a stake. It's so simple.

So why couldn't Buffy have done it?

I watch the dust fall to the ground and it's then that my vision clouds over. She's behind me and I'm scared to look because if I do and she's...

(... she's not dead... she's not breathing... but if she drowned, uh, there's a shot...)

God, I think I'm going to choke. What if I turn around and she's... what if she has that Willow-emptiness in her eyes? What if I can't stop it this time? There's nothing I can do. I'm useless. I was supposed to be watching her back and all I did was distract her. We act like this is just a fucking game when it's life and death every single night.

(...we saw her body, Will. We buried it...)

I barely notice as the rain begins to fall.

I can't even look... I can't.

'Xa..xander?'

Buff...?

I'm on my knees beside her in an instant, touching her, making sure she's real. Her throat. Her side where the stake was... just a hole in her sweater. Her hands and her face. She's smiling at me now, thinking I've gone nuts, or I'm copping a feel, but I don't smile in return. I can't. I was so worried. I was so worried that she'd left me again.

She can't ever leave me again. I couldn't bear it.

She's here. I have to make sure that she's here.

Oh.

I'm kissing Buffy.

Oh god, what am I doing?

How... what... how did this happen?

I'm kissing Buffy.

And she's kissing me back.

She opens her mouth to me and makes this wonderful little happy sigh in the back of her throat. I don't know if she's happy because I'm kissing her, or I misheard the noise and she's just shocked that I'm touching her like this. Or maybe just because someone is kissing her who isn't a reanimated corpse or likely to turn evil or -- I'm going crazy -- if I'm just taking away the sadness for the next few heartbeats, but still I heard that happy sound.

I made her do that.

I can't feel the damp grass I'm kneeling on, or the rain falling down on me. There is only her warm mouth. Her lips, her skin, her tongue. Buffy's fingers in my hair holding me closer.

I'm kissing Buffy.

I feel like I've dreamt of this forever.

It's perfect. She's wonderful. She tastes like... the rain and fire and I've waited forever. Oh god, I'm falling.

'Buffy!' I gasp when we break apart. She's breathless too. We ended up kneeling, facing each other... and too much of my body is pressed against hers. I draw back and we stare at each other, blinking against the rain. God, I feel awake for the first time in months.

'Buffy... I... I thought you were...'

She touches her lips with her fingertips. Her hand is shaking slightly. She looks so painfully beautiful and just for a terrible moment it's as though I can hear her voice inside my head.

A mistake.

'I..I'm sorry! I didn't mean... I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry, Buffy.'

'Xander...'

'No... listen, it's fine,' I rise awkwardly to my feet. 'Don't have to say a thing. I crossed the line. Sorry. Shouldn't have done that. You've only told me 'no' about a million times over the years.'

I'll could try and joke. Maybe a little smile. I'll be Funny Xander and then she'll forgive me. We can just forget that this ever happened. Right.

'A little thing like I thought you'd died again still didn't give me the right to do that.'

Oh god. That was supposed to be funny.

I actually kind of bow at her. I have lost all control over my body. I'm practically doing this awkward dance of shame as I back away from her. How could I do this? My friend Buffy who sees me as her brother... and what do I do? Stick my tongue down her throat at the earliest available opportunity.

'Sorry, Buffy. So sorry... I should never... well I'll be off now. Great, um, great patrol. Catch you tomorrow.'

I'm still backing away, like I'm afraid to turn my back on her. Like it would be disrespectful or something.

'Xander...'

I hold up my hands and hope that she'll buy my pantomime and believe that I can't hear her. I'm just going to slink away now. Be one with the shadows. Or maybe if I'm lucky the ground will open up and swallow me.

'Xander! Goddamn it, stop!'

I stop.

'Don't... shit.'

She runs a hand through her hair, the rainwater slicking it back against her head.

'Xander, I'm not supposed to...'

She's shifting her weight from one leg to the other. I wish she'd hurry up and spit it out then release me so I can get back to wishing the ground would open up and swallow me.

I have to get out of here. I want to travel back in time three minutes so that I can go and hug her and tell her how glad I am that she's not dead. Now I can't touch her. I think I'm about to start crying and I would like to do that in private. Retain the last shred of my dignity while not making Buffy feel any worse than I already have.

'Buffy, don't. You don't have to try and make me feel better. I'm sorry. Won't happen again. I thought you'd gone. Sorry.'

'Xander, I can't die.'

Okay. Wasn't expecting that.

Let's try something a little less babble-like.

'Huh?'

Oh yeah. Smooth.

'I can't die,' she says softly.

'Huh?'

And we're two for two.

'You were right.'

I was? Correct me if I'm wrong, but hasn't she already died? Twice?

'Right? About what?'

'You remember that night I came to your place, and you patched me up?'

The night I got to spend with Buffy Anne Summers sleeping in my arms? The night I made her smile when she was at her lowest? The night she told me that she loved me and that her dreams were of me?

Nope, can't say I recall.

'Yeah. I remember.'

'Well.'

Well? Well what? I can she she's trying to spit something out.

'Okay, I'm just going to say it. You were right. I'm an angel.'

'You're a...'

'Uh huh. Card carrying member.'

'Sorry, but... huh?'

She takes a deep breath and spits it all out in one go.

'The white demon you saw? I killed him that night when he was black. His name's Skip, by the by. He'd come to send me back to heaven to be recruited by the Powers That Be. I beat him down instead; he got reincarnated and then spoke to me in my dreams. They couldn't try to take me again because you saw through me. You saw through it all.'

'Buff... I don't...'

'You were the one with the pure heart and they couldn't take me away because you saw what I was.'

Oh, well. If that's all.

'Okay.'

She's looking at me like I just told her the sky was pink and the moon was made up of old pieces of chewing gum.

But, y'know, everything she just said? All makes a strange kind of sense.

'Okay?' she asks. 'Just... okay?'

'Yeah. Just okay.'

She sort of relaxes then and seems to think over the deep and meaningful 'okay' that was my answer. I guess that one word covered a lot because she's smiling sort of nervously and walking towards me.

'Don't go all nutty on me Xander. I need you. You and me against the world, remember?'

'I remember. I won't, uh, I won't go nutty that is. I just... I just had a moment of insanity,' I told her. 'Or maybe of clarity.'

She nods at this, not judging me, just accepting. The rain is still pouring down on us and Buffy pushes a stray strand of wet hair out of her face, licking the rainwater off her -- holy god in heaven I kissed Buffy -- lips. So now I'm back to doing a toned down version of the dance of shame and don't know where, or how, to look. I kissed her. I kissed an angel. Isn't that sacrilegious or blasphemous or something? Shouldn't I be getting smote down right about now?

Hey. An angel kissed me back. I heard that happy noise. Don't try and tell me I didn't.

'Buffy I kissed you.'

Shit. Shit! ... Shit!

'Uh...' the corner of her mouth quirks up into a grin and she scratches awkwardly at her neck, kind of rolling her eyes at me, all while managing not to look up.

'Yeah. You did.'

'Just yeah?' I ask.

'Just yeah.'

'And you're an angel.'

'Yeah.'

'Am I going to get in trouble for that?'

'You mean for kissing me or for kissing me when I'm an angel?' she asks.

'Uhmm, can I get back to you on that one?'

'I've got nothing but time,' she tells me. That simple statement manages to both lift me up and fill me with sorrow. What does this mean for Buffy now? She can't die, so she says, and she can't leave us again so that works for me... but what about her heaven? This was someone else's choice, right? What if she doesn't want this? Where the hell is her light at the end of the tunnel now?

As we stand there, looking at each other, not talking, the rain is slowing to a fine mist and the water is starting to drip from the trees.

'You, ah, you want me to walk you home?' I ask her lightly.

'Yeah,' she replies, holding out her hand to me. I step closer to her and take it. 'Yeah, I'd like that.'

After a moment's deliberation, I drop my arm around her shoulders and let go of a breath I didn't know I was holding when she doesn't break it off at the elbow on principle. A thousand things run through my head to say to her. I guess the discussions of what is to come can wait until later. Maybe even until tomorrow. In the end I tell her only this:

'I'm sorry if I... I mean I love you, Buffy. I'll always be here for you.'

She slung her arm around my waist and she answered like I knew she would.

'Yeah. I know. I love you too. Always.'

Now I know that she will. Probably long after I'm gone. Always suddenly seems so much longer. I hope she'll be happy. I hope that maybe one day she'll find her light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe I can help her to look.

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