Xander sat in the corner of a nightclub, his back to a wall, and wondered how, when his whole life had changed, so many things hadn't. He sat in the dark and watched Buffy dance. What light there was in the large, loud, crowded room seemed to follow her so that she was always, always, always the center of attention. He had watched her dance for years and that had remained the same. Whether she was moving slow and sweet with Angel, all innocent big eyes and moistened lips; or slow and sinuous to a driving beat when she made him just another weapon against a vampire; or wild and out of control when her fears were upon her, she was always the center of attention.

Andrew was there, sitting with the two beautiful women he so desperately wanted everyone to believe he had somehow met and charmed and that he wasn't paying for their attentions. It would have been more convincing if he had chosen one women and a more plain and likely less expensive one at that. It made Xander smile cynically. He felt detached, observing the life and motion around him. Many of the younger slayers were there but he couldn't bring himself to learn there names. It was too hard when you realized they were really just foot soldiers in the war he and the others led now. He didn't want to get attached to people he may see go to early, ugly deaths. There were enough people in his life like that. He didn't care about Andrew, with his whores and closeted denial. When it came to Buffy, it was sometimes just too much work and right then he was too tired to try. So he sat in the dark and watched a woman who wasn't just a woman dance in the light.

"Such an ominous figure," a husky and mocking voice said from off to his blind side. He turned and saw a dark haired woman, sleek and attractive in black, standing very close to him. Her eyes went to his patch for an instant. Her English was heavily accented with Italian. "Is he truly so grim or can he smile?" She was also slightly drunk.

"He can," Xander said. Normally, when he felt that a woman was flirting with him he became flustered and stupid, but all evening he had felt somehow outside himself, so he spoke as if he were merely a spectator. "But why should he?"

The woman smiled sardonically. "Because life is sweet." She sat without being asked.

"How sweet it is," Xander muttered.

"Are you American?" she asked.

"Land of the free, home of the brave."

"Which are you?"

"Neither."

She gave him a curious glance. "Are you enjoying Rome?"

Xander did smile at that. "Can't you tell by my obvious good mood?"

"Then why don't you buy a lady a drink and tell her about your troubles?" she asked, the hint of mockery still in her voice.

Xander smile grew wider if no more heartfelt. "How about I buy a lady a drink and we talk about anything else?"

The gray light of dawn filtering through the window of his hotel room woke Xander. He grimaced and realized that he had forgotten to pull the drapes. He had other things on his mind when he had gotten back from the club. Next to him she moaned and rolled away as the same light hit her face. He didn't know her name but he knew he would always remember her as Maggie May, because like the song says, the morning sun when its in her face really showed her age.

He lay still, trying to go back to sleep, but in a few moments she yawned, stretched, and was suddenly lying across him. "Good morning," she said.

"Good morning," Xander replied, automatically reaching up to caress her back so that she was cradled in his arm.

She idly stroked his chest. "How long are you in Rome?"

"A few more days," he replied. "I come back pretty regularly."

"Really? That may make for a very convenient arrangement."

Xander raised his eyebrows and nodded. "It sure could." Maybe he would learn her name after all.

Breakfast that day happened around noon. He ate with Dawn and a clearly hung over Buffy who, too all apearences, had a night similar to his. He wondered if he was as obvious as she was. Her first comment after saying hello made it clear. "Looks like you had a good night with the woman in black."

"Woman in black?" Dawn asked teasingly. "Did Xander get some?"

Buffy looked askance at her sister's language and started to inappropriately reprimand her, but Xander spoke too quickly. He said, "Yeah, he did," in such an out of character monotone that it silenced both women. When they spoke again the subject had changed.

Lagos is the largest city in Africa, so it was there that Xander and his branch of the new Watcher's Council was based. The building was an old converted private school, so there was a dorm, still mostly empty, for the girls and the staff. There was even a small gym for training and lots of office space. The public front was that it was still a school.

Xander even had his own office, which was strange to him. The library was the domain of Robert, a low ranking member of the former council who was too unimportant for anyone to have bothered killing. Robert had never been out in it; he had never faced a vampire even under controlled circumstances, but that was fine. He was there purely for research.

There were eleven slayers that Xander was supposedly the leader of. He sent them off to fight and had thankfully been yet to loose one. Willow had not been so lucky. Most of them were young enough that he felt avuncular towards them, but the new slayers had been of all ages. Most of the older ones had not wanted to leave their lives. Xander had one exception. Andrea was Australian and in her late twenties. She had no family and no career she cared about, so she had joined up. She was the second oldest slayer in the council now. A widow from Mexico City that worked for Willow was in her forties. Because of her age, Andrea felt more like a peer and a real co-worker then the teenagers could. There was absolutely nothing romantic between them. She was another example of his habit of being friends with women more then with men.

His suite of rooms had a balcony and he liked sitting there in the evening. Often Andrea would join him and they would have a few drinks. On such an evening more or less a week after his return from Rome she stared straight out at the stars and the lights of the city and asked quietly, "What was it like before, when there was just Buffy… or just Buffy and Faith?"

Xander regarded her seriously for a moment. It was plain he was deciding if and how to answer. After a moment that seemed very long to Andrea, he said "Kendra."

"What?"

"You're forgetting Kendra. She was called before Faith. Drusilla killed her."

"I know about Kendra" Andrea said, "I meant..."

Xander interrupted her. "I was there when Kendra died. Angel was trying to raise the demon Acathla. He tricked Buffy into leaving and they came at us. Willow got put down hard. So did I. Giles was kidnapped. Cordelia ran away. Drusilla opened Kendra's throat and the she bled out on the floor. There was no one to help. We were just a bunch of stupid kids and one over worked man. No police, no nothing, and Kendra died because of that."

Andrea swallowed hard. "I didn't mean to..." she paused. "I didn't mean to ask about Kendra."

"I know you didn't. That's just… how it was before."

He was working late, trying to decide if a series of killings in Zaire was supernatural or if it was just more of the internecine violence that plagued Africa when his phone rang. "Harris school for girls," he automatically answered.

"It's me," Willow answered warmly, "What'cha doing?"

Xander smiled and sat back in his chair. "Working," he answered.

"Anything bad?" she asked.

"Same old same old," he replied. "Is this a business call?"

"Entirely personal," Willow said. "I heard you had a good time in Rome."

"It was okay," he said, his mood improving despite himself as he purposely refused to tell her what she wanted to hear. "Who told you I had a good time?"

"A little bird told me," Willow laughed.

"Was the bird named Dawn or Buffy?"

"Dawn. She said you met someone."

Xander sighed. "It wasn't serious."

"What's her name? Are you going to see her again?" Again Xander smiled, this time at the eagerness in her voice.

"Benedetta. Maybe. I'm supposed to call her the next time I'm in Rome."

"Well, that's something," Willow said. "Tell me about her."

"She's older then we are."

"How old?" Dawn had mentioned that Xander's little fling looked more mature.

"Mid thirties I suppose. May be early forties."

"What does she do for a living?" Willow sounded very interrogatory.

"I don't know,"

"Does she have kids?"

"No clue."

Willow began to sound exasperated. "Do you even know her last name?"

"I have it written down with her number."

"Oh," Willow said sounding disappointed. "She's just..." her voice trailed off.

"Yeah," Xander said.

There was a moment's silence. Willow's voice was soft and sad. "When did you become a cynic?"

He thought for a second before he spoke. "Not a man among us can remember."

It was Buffy again. It was always about her, even now when she was the first of many instead of the one and only. It sometimes seemed his whole life was an inescapable orbit around her. This time it was her birthday and Dawn wanted everyone to come to Rome and surprise her. Every year Buffys birthday was somehow commemorated. He wondered if she even knew when his was.

Still, he came at the call and was in Rome for the party. It was nice seeing everyone. Dawn had a boyfriend with her, a long haired, skinny guy. When Xander commented that the boy looked as if he would wet himself and run at sight of a Vampire, Dawn had said he didn't know about "stuff" and she preferred it that way. "Anyway," she said, "I can take care of any Vamps we might run into." It was interesting to note that wanting to be the strong one in a relationship ran in the family.

Buffy had come alone, her last "relationship" being quite short term. Xander had to admit to himself that a quick, in and out with no harm to anyone relationship was a distinct improvement for her. He had danced with all the girls and actually enjoyed it. With Dawn he had laughed when he noticed skinny boy looking jealous. Kennedy had giggled through several songs as Xander told her stories about Willow as a little girl. Willow was mad and pouted because he had told embarrassing secrets about her. He couldn't help finding it cute.

When it came his turn to dance with the birthday girl, she had surprised him by clinging tightly to him. When Buffy finally spoke, she simply said, "I miss you so much, Xander."

His throat felt suddenly full and his eye stung. He couldn't answer, so he held her a little tighter. "You look so sad," she whispered in his ear. Just then the music ended and Giles called for her. She stepped out of his arms and gently touched his chest. "I'll find you later," she said before walking away.

Buffy tried to find him but failed. He had fled to his room and called Benedetta, and she met him there. She had teased him, calling him her grim little man, until he smiled for her.

The next morning he left early, without seeing anyone. He claimed there was an emergency.

Xander had left the school for a few minutes to himself. He had a coffee at Starbucks and was returning when Andrea ran up to him. She looked flustered and excited. Before he could ask what was wrong, she blurted out, "She's here!"

"Who?"

"Buffy," Andrea said, still excited, "she just showed up."

Xander felt cold. What's happened?"

"She said nothing was wrong. She said to tell you not to get excited."

"Okay." Slightly confused, he kept walking. Andrea followed him, her hands fluttering excitedly in a way that reminded him of Willow. He glanced at her. "Will you calm down?"

"But it's... it's her."

Xander became annoyed, "It's just Buffy."

Andrea looked surprised at him. "She's the slayer."

"She's a slayer. So are you," he snapped.

Andrea didn't say anything else. If he had been paying attention, Xander might have seen that he intimidated her. If he had noticed, he would have wondered how that was possible. Buffy was waiting in his office, her arms crossed and a strangely determined look on her face. She glared at him when he entered. "You ditched me," she said.

"There was an emergency," he replied.

"Liar," Buffy snapped. "I talked to Andrea. She said nothing was going on."

He sat down at his desk, putting a barrier between them. "So? I felt like leaving."

Buffy sunk into one of the visitor chairs. She rested her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands for a moment. When she looked up, her eyes were bright with incipient tears and her voice was rough. "What did I do?" she asked plaintively.

Xander looked out his window, not wanting to look at her for some reason. It was easy for him with his disability. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what did I do to you that was so terrible?" Buffy stood and walked around into his field of vision.

"Nothing," he answered honestly.

Her voice softened. "What's wrong with you? Are you treating everyone like this or just me?"

"Like what?"

"Distant,' Buffy answered immediately. "Closed off. Not yourself."

"I don't..." he was actually starting to say he didn't know what she was talking about, but he gave up. "I don't know."

"I was thinking," Buffy said, "about us."

"Us?" he asked.

"Yes, us," she said. "We have a pattern. We drift apart and then we realize what's happening and we pull back together." Her voice broke on her final words and she had to clear her throat to go on, "Because the idea of loosing you is awful to me."

Xander took a shuddering breath and looked at her. "You know I don't want that," he said. Buffy stepped to him where he sat and hugged him close, cradling his head against her chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist. She pressed her cheek against his hair and whispered that she loved him and he told her the same. They rested in that way for several minutes, until there was a knock at the door. They pulled apart reluctantly. Timidly, Andrea peeked in and said, "Um" the cook wants to know if you're staying here or going out?"

Xander looked at Buffy, letting her decide. "We're staying right here," she said.

Andrea left quickly. "Come on," Buffy said. "Let's take a walk." She pulled him from his chair by the hand. "I don't want your fan club trying to listen in."

"My fan club?" Xander asked, confused.

"Yes," Buffy said. "I was talking to the girls here for a while before they found you. They all think you're the neatest thing since sliced bread."

"Really?" Xander snorted disbelievingly. "They sure don't act like it, the obnoxious little cows."

Buffy laughed. "Remember how I treated Giles?"

"I sure do."

"Well, half of them have crushes on you and the other half are like "Yuck! How could anyone like Mr. Harris!"

Xander laughed, "That second one is what I'm used to from women."

Buffy shook her head. "Dumbass."

"Excuse me?"

"They either have a crush on you or they're thinking of you like a teenage girl does a father figure," she said patiently.

Xander thought about that for a moment. "Thank goodness for Andrea then," he said. "At least she's treating me normally."

"You don't have to worry about her," Buffy said, sounding amused.

"What do you mean?"

"She asked me out," Buffy said hesitantly. Xander laughed loudly. "Stop it. She was very sweet about it."

"Thinking about saying 'yes'?"

She made a face at him. "Maybe we could introduce her to Will and get rid of Kennedy."

"You've never given Kennedy a chance."

"And I feel just awful about it." They walked for a bit in silence. "So what's wrong?" she finally asked.

"I've been down for a while. I'm not sure why."

"You're sounding better."

"Am I?" She nodded deliberately.

Buffy stayed for two days, and when she left Xander's melancholy came back hard.

Xander could be oblivious. Some things he never saw till too late, such as Willow's feelings for him. Some things he saw all too clearly. He never knew what really was bothering him until one day in a city park as he watched the families enjoying the day it struck him.

The sun was ever beyond the reach of Icarus. The story, allegedly a parable on hubris, is so often misunderstood. Mounting to the heavens and risking that calamitous fall is both the most sublime and human of acts. If the fall comes, so be it.

Or, as Xander put it to himself, sometimes you just have to take a shot. His problem was that he was lonely and in love and if nothing else, he needed closure, one way or the other. He had to take his shot as an adult and let the fall come if it would. As he walked back towards the school he was considering whether to make a phone call or buy a plane ticket.