~Willow~
I suppose a lot of things happened that night that none of us could
explain... And a lot of things that we would never share. Well, mine was a
dream.
I dreamed of myself in the high school library. For a while, I walked around
without really knowing what I was doing there... Just walking, touching the
books, remembering times that we stayed there all night. The strangest thing
about those moments was that I didn't feel any surprise that the library was
standing when we had blown it up so long ago. It seemed fitting. It seemed
right.
I walked up the steps and looked through the stacks until I found myself
standing in the place where Xander and I shared our second kiss.
"It's sort of funny, if you think about it now. Isn't it?" I turned and
saw him standing behind me with a small grin on his face. "That we kept
getting it wrong all of those years."
"Yeah." We shared a small laugh. "Loving you as deeply as I do isn't the
same as being in love with you. I know that now. It just took me a long
while to learn. Why are you here?"
He shook his head slowly, fondness lighting his eyes. "I'm not. I'm in my
own dream. So are you."
I rolled my eyes. "Why are you here?" I repeated, with a pointed glance.
"Why do you think?" he countered.
I gazed at him for a moment and then, without thinking, flew into his waiting
arms. He wound them around me tightly and I sighed into his shoulder,
feeling safe. Pressed against him like that, cloaked in the intimacy of
friendship and love, I didn't need to ask any more questions. I knew why he
was there.
Because he was always there.
We'd been through so many things together... Not just the vampire slaying and
the near death every single night, not just the misunderstandings of young
hearts or the maybe five fights we had through our entire relationship. No,
we had been through the years together. Xander and I went all the way back
to "Remember when...?" He knew me. He knew me as well as I knew myself.
The moment with him in my arms would have been almost awkward if I hadn't
been blessed with the one small scrap of knowledge that, deep down, I had
always really known.
"You're my best friend, Will," he murmured into my hair.
My heart was warm for him. "You're mine."
I woke with a start, and found Xander looking at me in surprise from the
opposite chair. His eyes were sleepy and confused and he started to ask me a
question but I shook my head.
He managed to ask it later, after Buffy and Oz had left. "Where were you?"
"The library," I said simply.
He smirked. "You were always bookish, Will."
"You?"
"The playground." I nodded, understanding; we had spent most of our
childhood there. "It was..."
"Intense," I finished for him. "Yeah, it was."
His eyes were soft, gazing at me with affection. "It was true, you know."
"Do you even have to ask?" I laughed, hugging him quickly before Giles came
back into the room.
He kissed me on the cheek. "Not anymore."
* * * * * *
My heart was beating fast as Giles pried open the heavy lid of the box.
Buffy came down the steps, clean and in a new change of clothes and smirked
at him for a moment before going to stand beside him. "Here, let me." With
what looked like an effortless twist of her wrist, she lifted the lid and it
crashed to the table.
Giles worked for a minute at catching his breath and then lifted his eyebrows
at her. "Thank you."
She grinned. "You're always welcome."
With a nod, Giles turned back to the box and lifted out a single piece of
notebook paper. His eyebrows furrowed. "Dear boy," he read aloud, "I do not
pretend to know why you need these; I only know that they are important. And
they are dangerous. Your family are good people, as are those you associate
with, and so I shall entrust these sacred texts into your care, and into your
care only. I will bury them for safety. I write this note now in case
something happens as so often used to in Sunnydale. I have seen signs of
death, my own or someone else's I can't be sure. Read them carefully. Use
what you can from them. Give your help to those who need it."
I stepped over to Oz and gripped his hand in mine. His eyes were distant and
hurting for this woman who he only knew slightly. The love for him I had
burned in my breast and I suddenly want to kiss away every piece of fear or
guilt he had ever known. He turned his eyes to me and they cleared. "I love
you."
"I love you too," I whispered, feeling the words with every single part of
me. I leaned forward to kiss him gently on the corner of his mouth and he
gave me a sad smile, opening his mouth to speak.
Giles's soft "Ahhh...." interrupted whatever he was going to say and we both
turned to look at him.
He was carefully lifting out the books that we needed. There were three of
them, with deep brown covers and pretty thick leather pages that crumbled at
the yellowed edges. The letters had a golden hue and were slightly raised in
some spots. They were obviously some of the most well-preserved ancient texts
we had come across through the years. Giles began reverently flipping
through one, raising his eyebrows at me.
I smiled and picked up one of them, and Angel did the same. I started to
look through mine, but paused for a moment. "Um, Giles?"
"Yes?" he mumbled distractedly.
"What, exactly, are we looking for?"
"Oh." His smile was sheepish. "Any mention of the Old Ones, and a spell
that casts them out. If something sounds familiar to you in the slightest,
then read it thoroughly."
I grinned at him as I saw Buffy's eyes twinkle. She winked at me and I could
practically hear her voice inside my head saying "Same old Giles. Gotta love
him." And if that's what she was thinking, she was right. It's hard not to
love a man who just sort of assumes that you can read his mind and then is
adorably flustered when he realizes that he has to tell us out loud.
I flipped through the pages halfheartedly, unsure of what I was looking for.
Almost every page had a mention of the Old Ones, of their power. But most of
it was the basic ominous sounding 'they will rise' kind of thing. I mumbled
this to Giles who mumbled back that we'd find what we were looking for.
Boredom and fascination, and minutes and hours seemed to melt into each other
then. Some of the text was in different languages, Latin and Greek and
Gaelic and was hard to decipher. I tore my eyes away from the pages and
smiled warmly at Oz as he began to rub my temples gently, sensing my
frustration.
When I finally glanced at the clock, I was shocked to see that the sun was
going to be setting soon. Days now, possibly less, for us to find out what
was going to happen with our collective fate.
Maybe nights would work better than days in that sentence.
The nights were always longer in Sunnydale.
I suppose a lot of things happened that night that none of us could
explain... And a lot of things that we would never share. Well, mine was a
dream.
I dreamed of myself in the high school library. For a while, I walked around
without really knowing what I was doing there... Just walking, touching the
books, remembering times that we stayed there all night. The strangest thing
about those moments was that I didn't feel any surprise that the library was
standing when we had blown it up so long ago. It seemed fitting. It seemed
right.
I walked up the steps and looked through the stacks until I found myself
standing in the place where Xander and I shared our second kiss.
"It's sort of funny, if you think about it now. Isn't it?" I turned and
saw him standing behind me with a small grin on his face. "That we kept
getting it wrong all of those years."
"Yeah." We shared a small laugh. "Loving you as deeply as I do isn't the
same as being in love with you. I know that now. It just took me a long
while to learn. Why are you here?"
He shook his head slowly, fondness lighting his eyes. "I'm not. I'm in my
own dream. So are you."
I rolled my eyes. "Why are you here?" I repeated, with a pointed glance.
"Why do you think?" he countered.
I gazed at him for a moment and then, without thinking, flew into his waiting
arms. He wound them around me tightly and I sighed into his shoulder,
feeling safe. Pressed against him like that, cloaked in the intimacy of
friendship and love, I didn't need to ask any more questions. I knew why he
was there.
Because he was always there.
We'd been through so many things together... Not just the vampire slaying and
the near death every single night, not just the misunderstandings of young
hearts or the maybe five fights we had through our entire relationship. No,
we had been through the years together. Xander and I went all the way back
to "Remember when...?" He knew me. He knew me as well as I knew myself.
The moment with him in my arms would have been almost awkward if I hadn't
been blessed with the one small scrap of knowledge that, deep down, I had
always really known.
"You're my best friend, Will," he murmured into my hair.
My heart was warm for him. "You're mine."
I woke with a start, and found Xander looking at me in surprise from the
opposite chair. His eyes were sleepy and confused and he started to ask me a
question but I shook my head.
He managed to ask it later, after Buffy and Oz had left. "Where were you?"
"The library," I said simply.
He smirked. "You were always bookish, Will."
"You?"
"The playground." I nodded, understanding; we had spent most of our
childhood there. "It was..."
"Intense," I finished for him. "Yeah, it was."
His eyes were soft, gazing at me with affection. "It was true, you know."
"Do you even have to ask?" I laughed, hugging him quickly before Giles came
back into the room.
He kissed me on the cheek. "Not anymore."
* * * * * *
My heart was beating fast as Giles pried open the heavy lid of the box.
Buffy came down the steps, clean and in a new change of clothes and smirked
at him for a moment before going to stand beside him. "Here, let me." With
what looked like an effortless twist of her wrist, she lifted the lid and it
crashed to the table.
Giles worked for a minute at catching his breath and then lifted his eyebrows
at her. "Thank you."
She grinned. "You're always welcome."
With a nod, Giles turned back to the box and lifted out a single piece of
notebook paper. His eyebrows furrowed. "Dear boy," he read aloud, "I do not
pretend to know why you need these; I only know that they are important. And
they are dangerous. Your family are good people, as are those you associate
with, and so I shall entrust these sacred texts into your care, and into your
care only. I will bury them for safety. I write this note now in case
something happens as so often used to in Sunnydale. I have seen signs of
death, my own or someone else's I can't be sure. Read them carefully. Use
what you can from them. Give your help to those who need it."
I stepped over to Oz and gripped his hand in mine. His eyes were distant and
hurting for this woman who he only knew slightly. The love for him I had
burned in my breast and I suddenly want to kiss away every piece of fear or
guilt he had ever known. He turned his eyes to me and they cleared. "I love
you."
"I love you too," I whispered, feeling the words with every single part of
me. I leaned forward to kiss him gently on the corner of his mouth and he
gave me a sad smile, opening his mouth to speak.
Giles's soft "Ahhh...." interrupted whatever he was going to say and we both
turned to look at him.
He was carefully lifting out the books that we needed. There were three of
them, with deep brown covers and pretty thick leather pages that crumbled at
the yellowed edges. The letters had a golden hue and were slightly raised in
some spots. They were obviously some of the most well-preserved ancient texts
we had come across through the years. Giles began reverently flipping
through one, raising his eyebrows at me.
I smiled and picked up one of them, and Angel did the same. I started to
look through mine, but paused for a moment. "Um, Giles?"
"Yes?" he mumbled distractedly.
"What, exactly, are we looking for?"
"Oh." His smile was sheepish. "Any mention of the Old Ones, and a spell
that casts them out. If something sounds familiar to you in the slightest,
then read it thoroughly."
I grinned at him as I saw Buffy's eyes twinkle. She winked at me and I could
practically hear her voice inside my head saying "Same old Giles. Gotta love
him." And if that's what she was thinking, she was right. It's hard not to
love a man who just sort of assumes that you can read his mind and then is
adorably flustered when he realizes that he has to tell us out loud.
I flipped through the pages halfheartedly, unsure of what I was looking for.
Almost every page had a mention of the Old Ones, of their power. But most of
it was the basic ominous sounding 'they will rise' kind of thing. I mumbled
this to Giles who mumbled back that we'd find what we were looking for.
Boredom and fascination, and minutes and hours seemed to melt into each other
then. Some of the text was in different languages, Latin and Greek and
Gaelic and was hard to decipher. I tore my eyes away from the pages and
smiled warmly at Oz as he began to rub my temples gently, sensing my
frustration.
When I finally glanced at the clock, I was shocked to see that the sun was
going to be setting soon. Days now, possibly less, for us to find out what
was going to happen with our collective fate.
Maybe nights would work better than days in that sentence.
The nights were always longer in Sunnydale.