AUTHOR: Goddess Isa
EMAIL: goddessisa@aol.com
SUMMARY: Willow and Xander realize a lot has changed over their summer apart
SPOILER: Mild S2 & S3
DISTRIBUTION: Sure, just email me & lmk where it's going - I like seeing my name in print =)
FEEDBACK: Please, I'd hate to have to Slay for it. =P
RATING: TV-PG
DISCLAIMER: Xander is mine and everyone else belongs to Joss. Okay, Joss may've given our dear Xand life, but he lives at my house, he eats when I tell him to eat, and he even kissed my toes the other day. It's great having him around g
Xander's hands were still soft, still fit right into mine. His eyes were still sweet, still trying to hide all that he'd seen and done and felt in eighteen years. His smile was still bright and just for me.
And yet, all over, he'd changed.
There isn't really a way for me to explain it, but it's there. He's different.
Maybe it was the new hairdo, the black jeans I'd never seen him wear, or the way he was standing.
Maybe, over the summer, he'd grown up without me.
God knows I'm not the same Willow I was in the spring, but I'm not *that* different, either.
So I cut my hair and I'm wearing redder lipstick. I can still carry a smiley face purse and wear white tights year-round. I'm still Willow.
And as the music plays and we start to dance, I worry that the Xander I used to play doctor with is gone.
*****
Willow is beautiful.
I've always known it, always seen it, but not in the way I'm seeing her right now.
When we were growing up, she was like my sister, but I thought that she was pretty. Sure, we went through the stage where I called her ugly and all of that, but I loved her and I thought she knew it, but maybe not. I can't even remember the first time I told her that I loved her. I wish I could.
When we were in seventh grade, her mother made us take ballroom dancing lessons together. I hated it, getting dressed up and wearing those tight shoes that pinched my big toes. Mrs. Rosenberg paid for all of it, too, I guess so she could tell everyone that Willow was taking the lessons. That's actually kind of funny, considering that's the type of thing I would expect out of Cordy's parents and not Will's.
I remember the day of the last class, we were dancing and Will gave me this look. I think it was then that she fell in love with me.
Why the Hell it took me all these years to catch on, I'll never know.
I have all these memories of our relationship changing. First, the ballroom lessons, and when we started to Slay....
I remember last summer, when she came home from a mall trip with all her hair cut off. it looked great, really set off her features. The strands bounced as she walked. I wanted to tell her she looked like a Goddess, but I opted for blushing slightly and telling her it looked great instead.
The moment I fell in love with her was weeks before that. We were in the hospital and I thought I was going to lose her.
I wanted to tell her when she came to, but of course, she was asking for Oz and Cordelia was there so it was impossible. Plus, Oz was doing that thing where he kisses her, so I just left.
I took off the day after the Ascension with no intentions of ever coming back. Willow was the reason I came home. She was the one person I'd truly missed.
So instead of spending this lonely Tuesday cleaning my keychain collection or surfing the Internet at the library, I'm here.
At the Bronze.
Dancing with my Will, who has changed so much.
Her red hair is choppy now, more adult. It suits her though. It reminds me of a style you might see in a back-to-school ad.
Her face looks different too, and as the song gets just a bit faster, I notice she's wearing more make-up than usual.
She grew up without me.
*****
The song ends and they give each other a final smile before splitting up and joining Buffy again at the table. They sat with their Slayer, talking and laughing, but avoided eye contact with each other at all costs.
He doesn't tell her about the fling with Anya, and she doesn't tell him about the breakup with Oz.
And at the end of the night, they say goodbye to their childhood and hope for a second chance at love as adults.