Author's Note: Hey guys! This is a one-shot that explores what might happen if Willow were to become evil again. If you follow the season 8 comics and consider them a true part of the Buffyverse, then you know that this is a possible event. I imagine that if this does happen, Willow would start with the one person that holds her to humanity.

Goodbyes & Fire trucks

Xander turns as he hears her, though she is silent, and though he knows it's her. He smiles even though he knows what's to come. Maybe he smiles not despite what's about to happen, but because of it. He's ready. He's known this day would come, and he was always ready.

"Hey there, lady. Decided to start with me this time, huh?" Xander says it not afraid, not questioning. He's still smiling.

Willow doesn't say anything, because what is there to say? She knows anything she says will only make it worse, make it hurt more, or maybe less, and she can't decide which one would be more horrible. But she knows she must say something, so she says, in a whisper that seems earth-shatteringly loud:

"Yes."

He nods, as if to say, anything else?

"You're the only one-"

"Standing between you and true darkness? Come on, Will, can't you be more original?" Xander finishes for her, giving her a bit of his boyish chuckle. He laughs at the cheesiness of the line, even though it's exactly right. He knows he had been, still is, the only thing holding her down, keeping the world away, that she could easily take.

Willow lets out a laugh. Not because it's funny or she's amused by him, but because she owes it to him. Because she feels she must comfort her best friend in his death, his death at her hands. At the thought, she laughs again, this time at her own redundancy.

"So this is how it ends." Xander isn't upset about his end, nor is he surprised. He's been waiting. He's always been waiting for her, because somehow he knew that this is how he would end.

"No. This is how it begins."

Xander thinks she's right, and he doesn't wish she was wrong. He won't beg and he won't cry, because he knows that this time it's happening.

He smiles again, and shows a glimpse of young, boyish, Xander. "I love you."

Willow lets out a snort. "You know that won't stop me this time."

Xander reaches out and places a hand on her vein-speckled cheek. "That's not why I said it."

She shudders at the feeling of his hand against her, as if it reminds her of her humanity, of her vulnerability. He draws it back. Xander stands up tall and adjusts himself. He fixes his shirt so that the hem is even, and he makes sure his eye patch is placed just right. He thinks he'd like to have some dignity and class in death, perhaps more than he had in life.

"Okay, I'm ready," he says, and he means it. "We gonna get this boogie down?"

"No."

"No? No, we're not gonna boogie down? You know the boogying is a metaphor for killing Xander, right?" he asks, and he's amazed at his ability to joke at his own death. Xander isn't excited or relieved by the idea that he might live, only confused and inquisitive.

"I mean not yet. I have to tell you something."

"Oh?" Xander says, raising the brow above his patch. "And what deep, dark secret do you have? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I know 'em all." He lowers his voice and puts his hand in front of his mouth as if to tell a secret. "Lesbian witch with a dark side?" he says jokingly.

Willow shakes her head, her dark hair moving slowly about her shoulders.

"I started the fire."

"What…" Xander looks at her with confusion.

"Your birthday."

And Xander smiles. His lone eye is filled with tears, and he smiles. He laughs and he looks at her, and he laughs.

"Thank you," he says, but he's not sure if he's thanking her for the fire or if he's thanking her for letting him have this one last perfect memory of her. And he hugs her. He holds her in his arms even though he knows he shouldn't, even though he knows she's not the same, and maybe it means nothing to her. And he cries not because he doesn't want to die, or because he does, but because he's somehow happy. He's happy he goes this way, and it's right somehow. He expects her to pull away, but he feels her arms snake around him and grips him fiercely. He knows that a part of her wants him to live, but he knows that the hurt inside of her is much stronger than that. And more importantly, he knows that he is the only way to open it.

"I love you, too," Willow whispers into his chest, muffled by his obnoxiously-patterned shirt and maybe even some tears. Xander smoothes his hand over her hair and wishes it were red so he could die looking at his best friend, his real best friend. She pulls her head away from him to look into his eye.

She smiles. Not a happy one, not excited for what she is about to do, but perhaps a solemn smile. A sad smile. The smile you give someone to say 'it's okay' even though you both know that it's not.

"And I'm sorry."

She presses the palm of her hand to his chest, as Xander closes his eye. The light fills him and he feels it, oh god, he feels it. He feels the light pouring out of him, shooting through his veins, and he somehow sees the light beams shooting out from him, from his eye socket, from his ears, and then from his heart. And it hurts, and it's warm, and somehow, it's right.

And then the light stops.

And then she is alone.

Feel free to post comments, suggestions, and feedback (negative or positive). Stay tuned for more snippets.