Chapter 4

Hide and Go Seek

Campus is abuzz with keen minds waiting to be honed into the future shaping, uh, things. And boy didn't I just highlight the reason I am not currently counted among their number. But I have my quiet, shady tree from which to observe and absorb the academic energy from a safe distance.

Willow seems, thankfully, much changed. She even managed as smile for me that seem genuine enough. That's my little trooper.

She has cut her hair shorter and it flicks up at the sides like a smile too. On her throat is a new choker, and she wears a crimson top low and tight. If I didn't know better, I would say someone has met someone. I stand and throw my arms open to her.

"Xander Harris well you look at you."

"Buffy's work." I shrug. "Thankfully, I was gonna go way out there with the whole leather hellcat look but she reigned me on back." A kiss was bestowed upon my cheek. It is so weird that she is taller than me now. The world seems warped and… well, I guess it is. Everything is relative, I suppose.

"Well, this works." She says, nodding her approval. I am not certain I should be happy to be positively appraised with someone of Willows… how do I put it..

creative take on clothing, but I take it nonetheless. To be honest it's just good to have her smiling and interacting again.

"Lunch is thatta way."

We grab sandwiches and sodas to go, and find a spot on an artificial rolling hill overlooking the main thoroughfare of the campus. For the first little while Willow recounts the events I have missed, casually skipping over her breakup with Oz. It seems pretty normal stuff. A nest of Vampires on campus, Buffy's roommate turned out to be a life sucking demon- you know, the usual.

The biggest revelation was that Buffy had had a one night stand with "some jerky jerk face" player called Parker. But she took it in her stride. After, that is, literally turning into a cave woman and knocking him cold.

I missed Sunnydale.

That was the first part. The second was more along the lines of me squirming out of talking about my trip. I gave her the basics, heavily edited in my favor, I confess. Sue me, I am insecure as all hell.

"So the moral of that story is strip poker is never a good idea among strangers as it separates your wallet from your person." I nod sagely. "Also, running naked down a Las Vegas street but for a pair of traffic cones is a strangely effective way to enter the job market as a male stripper. You will do well to heed my words."

I have Willow laughing again, consistently now. It's a bit like bumping a mower to life, you gotta keep the momentum up, but gosh darn it, I shall mow that lawny, uh, smile. She snorts her soda wrong and waves for me to stop. And here we are, Willow and me, two dorks just goofing off in grass on a sunny day.

Willow picks up on my expression change and hers sobers a little.

"Jessie should be here." I say.

Willow agrees and lays her head on my shoulder. I nuzzle in, smelling that distinct Willow smell. It calms me and makes me think of crayons and stolen Barbies, then kisses and guilt. I run my fingers through her soft hair absentmindedly.

"He'd have tried to sleep with you like a dozen times by now." She mutters, and I can't help but chuckle at what is, undoubtedly, the truth.

"Yeahp. That's our Jessie."

We fall into a somewhat comfortable silence as I pet her hair, the both of us watching the veritable zoo of students around us.

"Tara seems nice." I say. Willow seems quiet.

"She is." More silence. She stiffens in my arms a little. I am about to probe further when a familiar face appears in the bustle. My stomach flips as the girl spots us and clomps over, a tense expression on her face. She has lightened her hair since prom, and changed the style, but she is unmistakably Anya.

"Xander Harris." She says flatly, and I choke on thin air. "Have you seen him?"

Willow turns to look at me, and I am at a loss for words. But a minute shake of my head conveys my plea. Message received her eyes say.

"Uh, no, I haven't seen him for a while. He went on a road trip."

I see what you did there Rosenberg. Anya huffs and looks around frustratedly. She turns to me and glares.

"This is vexing. And you? Have you seen Xander Harris?"

"I am looking for him too." I say, chuckling at my own joke. Her eyes widen and she scowls at me like I drove over her puppy or something. It is at that stage I remember what her former trade was and do a huuuge mental back up. "Oh no, no, I just got back into town myself… he's my brother. Half, brother. Actually."

"He never mentioned a sister on our date, half or otherwise. We dated. The prom. Months ago. But I do see the familial resemblance now. Same beady little eyes and untrustworthy mouth. I hope you have better manners than him." She spins on her heels and storms of. "Asshole never called."

"Please Xander by The Goddess tell me you didn't get her pregnant."

"Absolutely certain of that." I say, and I watched the hurt vengeance demon continue on her search for the boy that did her wrong. My thoughts wander to an image of Faith for some reason, but I shake them away. I look down at the remains of our picnic.

I don't feel hungry anymore.


Joyce is with a customer when I arrive at the bright airy white space that is her gallery. I busy myself looking around at the art on display, glad that her tastes have moved away from tribal pieces. Especially those that animate the dead. I do warily eye a few sculptures, just to be sure.

Joyce wanders over with a smile and greets me. Much to my surprise, it only takes a second for her to click.

'Xander.' She says and accepts the flowers I had her. 'What is this?'

'A thank you. But I guess the gesture is a little off since I bought them with your money. I fear this may trigger an endless cycle of ever diminishing gift giving and regifting that could irreparably collapse the economy or rupture space time but… oh god I get an all new mouth and it still gets jammed in neutral." I groan. "Thank you."

"The thought is lovely Xander. But you didn't have to."

I shrug. Finally unable to say anything.

"So are you here about doing that work? Do you need more money?"

"Oh, gosh, no, Mrs. Summers, this was just for the thank you."

"So, if I may ask, what do you plan to do? Mr. Giles told me that they… uh."

"One way trip, at least until new information comes to light. It's okay, I am dealing. It's not as hard as I thought. But then, I try to think as little about it as possible. And not thinking? Something I am starting to get the picture that I am good at."

"The offer is still open if you need work."

"Thank you. But, I gotta go run some errands. I really just wanted to show my appreciation for what you have done for me."

Joyce shifts a little awkwardly. Uh oh.

"Xander, do you know a boy called Riley?"

I shake my head.

"I don't mean to pry into Buffy's life, but you know she and I fell out over her dating Angel… I don't want to make the same mistakes again, you understand. It's just… she won't talk about her boyfriend, and I just want to know…"

"If he bites." I say. Joyce nods and looks about the gallery.

"I honestly haven't met him, and she hasn't said anything to me about him either. But Buffy? Well, her taste in men sucks, in my opinion. Literally, let's be honest. But Mrs. S, it's her life to make mistakes in, you can't protect her from that. She's a smart cookie. Trust her on this one, She's probably just worried you will react…"

"Exactly like this?" She rolls her eyes and nods. "I need to let go, don't I?" A chuckle. "When did you get all wise?"

"Oh, I think I got me a long road to get to wise."


That night I lay upon on Gile's couch listening to him playing some vinyl records from his youth. He sits nursing a glass of scotch, head tilted to the side, his mind travelling over memories like the needle in the groove.

I feel myself floating in disjointed images as I start to drift off. I can almost hear the rumble thump of the tumble dryer as it lulled Xander Harris to sleep in his basement.

I don't know who I am anymore, or who I am to become. But I know this.

I know… I know that I...

want…

want to be…

Better.