Title: The Best Mistake

Author: Lysa-uk

Rating: PG-13

Feedback: Please, please, please. lysaharris@fsmail.net

Distribution: If you want it, ask first and let me know where it's going.

Pairing: Willow/Xander

Spoilers: Possibly for Homecoming and Lover's Walk.

Summary: Set AU, what if Cordelia and Oz had gone straight to the woods to get Giles and not rescued Willow and Xander?

Disclaimer: Okay, I am not the god known as Joss Whedon, but I wish I was because then I wouldn't have to be writing this stuff. All mentioned is property of Joss Whedon/UPN/Mutant Enemy etc. No copyright is intended at all. Please don't sue me, I have zero.

Notes: This is just a short vignette piece that sort of popped into my head while watching Lover's Walk. I wondered what would have happened, how far things would have gone, if Willow and Xander hadn't been interrupted. This is basically what I would have liked to have happened.

Willow holds the telephone receiver to her ear, and listens to the ringing sound from the familiar number she has just dialled. All too soon, she hears the click of someone answering, and she wants to slam the phone back down and bury her head in her pillows, forgetting everything. But she doesn't. She hears the monosyllabic greeting from her sweet, caring boyfriend and forces herself to speak. "Oz?" she asks, even though she already knows it's him answering. Who else would be answering his private line?

"Willow," he says warmly, and she can almost hear that smile on his face that he always reserved especially for her. "It's nice to hear your voice."

"Yeah, you too," she says uncomfortably, moving from the standing position she has taken next to her bed so that she can pace, something she's used to doing at times when there is something on her mind, which, these days, seems to all the time, and she sits on her bed, holding the telephone receiver in both hands, feeling her limbs shaking so much she's sure he can hear it.

"Are you okay?" he asks, breaking the silence that seems to follow.

"Yeah, of course," she tells him, lying through her teeth. "I just…"

"It's okay, baby," he says softly. "I know you guys had a rough time last night with Spike and all. I'm just glad that he told Buffy and Angel where you were, otherwise…" he stops speaking, his words trailing off.

Willow flinches because she knows that he's thinking about what could have happened last night at the hands of Sunnydale's psycho bleach-blond vampire, and she closes her eyes, knowing he's hurting because of it. "I'm fine, Oz," she forces herself to say.

"I know you are," he tells her. "I'm just glad that Xander was there with you. He's the only other guy I could trust your life with."

"Oz," she says suddenly, the guilt eating at her stomach, making it turn in knots and she has to bend over slightly against it, trying to constrict it when it feels like it's going to burst through her skin.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"Listen, I was wondering if…if I could maybe come over in a little while?" she asks, wishing things were different, wishing she didn't have to hurt him.

"Of course," he tells her. "You're welcome here any time, you know that."

And she knows he means it. "You don't have any other plans?" she asks, part of her - her fear - hoping for him to suddenly remember a band practice or something that he has to go to, because then that would mean she didn't have to tell him right now and she had more time.

"No, I'm good," he tells her. "It'll be nice to spend some time with you, after our failed double bowling date and all."

"Okay," she says shakily at his soft chuckle. "I'll see you in a little while."

"Bye," he tells her, the smile still there.

Something inside of her is relieved as she replaces the receiver on the cradle. That part of her is the logic, knowing and telling her that she has to do this as soon as possible, before it gets harder than it already is. Her original plan had been to tell him over the phone, but she knows she owes him more than that. He had been the one who saw her when no one else had. He'd made her feel wanted, loved, special and all of those other nice things she'd read about in the cheesy romance novels that no one besides Xander knew that she was hooked on reading. She hoped that Oz had felt some of those things too in their time together. He had given her confidence and strength and the ability to all but forget about the love for her best friend that had been developing since their lives first crossed paths at kindergarten. But she couldn't forget it completely, the last few weeks had proved that more than once. And after last night…things were never going to be the same again.

I'm a slut, Willow thinks to herself. A horrible, guilty, cheating slut who should be shot! But what's the definition of a slut? Willow wonders to herself, deep in thought. Somehow, I don't think Webster's Dictionary is going to be of much help here, she thinks. 'Slut, a: - Someone who goes behind her boyfriend's back and sleeps with her best guy friend when they're in a hostage situation. Example: Willow Rosenberg.' Maybe I should ask Faith, she thinks absently. Or maybe not, she amends quickly. I mean, I know she seems to have a lot of experience in the 'guy' department – just look at her clothes. Something tells me the leather is more of a lifestyle choice than a fashion statement. I don't think I need her advice on something like this. She knows she's being judgemental, but she can't help it. She has issues, she knows this, especially when the reason why she seems to dislike her so much is because of the way she looks at Xander, and the way he looks back. At first, she didn't really notice it, so it didn't bother her. But now, since that first kiss, she's suddenly 'hyper-aware' – as Buffy once put it – of Xander Harris all over again. Seeing him with Cordelia was bad enough before, even if she hadn't allowed herself to realise it, but after feeling his lips on hers…even with Oz in her life, she could never block out the vision of him in his tux and what she had felt when he held her so close.

The thought of Cordelia, his unsuspecting, unaware and, she suspects, loving girlfriend causes the knots in her stomach to increase tenfold, and she can feel the physical pain cutting into her sides. She wonders if it's possible for it to burst at all, maybe like an appendix or something, before she dismisses it with her knowledge and reasoning of modern biology and anatomy. The guilt is counteracted as something makes her remember that night she had witnessed Cordelia and Xander's little make-out session in the midst of the panic that had been Spike and Drusilla's baby, the Judge, not to mention what they were still to discover about Angel. The pain of what she had seen that night had almost been too much to bear – the hurt, the betrayal and utter devastation. She never was too clear on why she was hurting so badly, though. On the one side, there was the fact that she was supposed to be his best friend, his confidante, especially when it came to things like this. On the other, she had the fact that she loved him so much that it made her feel physically ill to see him in the arms of another, especially Cordelia, the person who had been their sworn enemy since grade school. She flinches again at this thought, because she knows that she's inflicting this kind of pain on someone else, someone who she actually counted among her friends, even if Cordelia would never admit it, but the worst part being that she's blissfully unaware of it. The pain and the guilt are now melding together in her body, making her feel nauseous.

She moves to the stereo across the room and turns it on, pressing the play button on the CD player, hoping that it will somehow ease the feelings inside of her, make her feel better and maybe make her forget how terrible a person she is, even if it's only for the duration of one song. She opens the closet and tries to decide what to wear to go to Oz's, thinking that a placard saying 'I'm sorry. Please don't hate me', just isn't going to cut it. She decides against changing. It's not like clean clothes are suddenly going to make it easier to dump someone, or make her feel any better about what she has to do. There's a thought: little mousy Willow has to dump her cool musician boyfriend, she thinks to herself. If the situation wasn't so sad, I'd probably find that ironic.

Then it hits her again: I had sex.

With Xander.

Everything else that she's feeling seems to pale in comparison to that one fact as she feels that slow smile appearing on her face.

She catches herself in the mirror, seeing her own reflection smiling back at her, and she frowns, cursing the day when everything got so complicated. This time last year, everything was so simple. Well, not so much simple as that she knew where she stood when it came to Xander. He was her best friend, and she also happened to be in love with him. She'd known then that love wasn't going to be reciprocated, but she knew where she stood. All she wanted was to be loved. Months passed and Oz came into her life when she needed it the most. But being loved wasn't all it was cracked up to be, she realises now, not when it's by the wrong person. There was never any question that Oz had made her happy, but she'd never felt that fire that seemed to burn inside of her whenever she was near Xander when she was with Oz. That wasn't his fault. She realises now that she should have listened to what her heart was trying to tell her that night before Homecoming. That she was falling for Xander all over again, losing a part of herself whenever she was in his arms. Instead, she kept her inner turmoil to herself, wanting Oz because he was nice and safe and comfortable, but wanting Xander because…well, because he was Xander. And let's not forget how gorgeous he looked in that tux… She knows she's always the logical one, the brains of the Willow/Xander partnership, but she couldn't find any logic deep enough to stop their dalliances. Yes, she knew it was wrong in her head, but her heart screamed at her, telling her not to stop. When she was in the sanctity of her room, alone at night, she admonished herself for her feelings and her actions, resolving to find a solution. She always told herself to do the right thing, to tell Xander 'no more', and be with Oz completely, but all of that went out of her head when she saw her best friend. In the safety of their group of friends, she could cope. She forced herself to cope. It was those one-to-one moments that caused all the trouble. It really was all their friend's faults for leaving them all alone together, she had reasoned, not even believing it herself.

But after all of those stolen moments alone together, it was last night when things came to a head. They had both agreed: No more kissing. Or touching. Or even looking at each other. It had to be that way. It was best for everyone. So, when they lay on that bed in the basement of the factory, she'd reminded him that they weren't supposed to – but deep down she already knew what was going to happen. She had looked into those deep brown orbs that turned her knees to jelly and she realised in a moment of clarity that she still loved him, more than she ever had before, and she gave herself to him completely and willingly, knowing, somehow, that he felt exactly the same. There were no words, no excuses for their actions, no reasons why they shouldn't give in, only love-filled kisses and an experience that made Willow want to blush and hide away, as well as being filled with delight and a strange sense of pride and happiness and not a hint of regret for what they had done.

Going behind Oz's back was definitely something that she doesn't feel proud about, but she understands why it happened. All of this time, she was reprimanding herself for being a slut, when really all she had done was make love to the one man in the world she loved more than anything. And that's what it had been – making love. It wasn't some reckless action carried out by two people who panicked and thought they were going to die, or who had just met in some club and got down to it in an alley. These weren't bad things for other people, and she always believed that as long both adults were over the age of consent and willing, good luck to them. But that wasn't her. She could probably argue to anyone that they were just comforting each other, and that they were scared and so on, but the fact is that she had made love to him not because they thought they were going to die, but because she loved him and she knew they were going to live. Lying in Xander's arms made the world fall away and she couldn't ignore that feeling.

She catches herself smiling in the mirror again as she moves to take her jacket hanging from the hook on the back of her bedroom door, slipping it on as she heads to Oz's house to break his heart.

To be continued…