~Xander~
I still sometimes think about how my life might have turned out differently.
There are a bunch of 'what if's that go through my mind, a bunch of questions
that I don't bother saying out loud because I know I'll never know the
answers to them. As I watched Willow flip through the pages of those
way-too-hard-to-find scrolls, and remembered the dream I had, though, I knew
that those questions didn't really matter anymore.
Everyone wonders about what could be different. The point of it was, even
though I still thought about things like that, I was content with my life. I
was in love with a beautiful, strong woman, and was lucky enough to have her
love me back. I'd had an exciting life, filled with things that most people
don't even believe are real or possible. I had people who cared about me,
who were willing to sacrifice everything for me. And I had a best friend-- a
real best friend, the kind that knows your every thought and gesture before
it's said and done, the kind that spent years studying you, helping you,
laughing with you, holding you and loving you.
As a matter of fact, I had a lot of best friends.
How many people can say that about their lives?
My mind again flashed to the dream I had the previous night. I had been
walking in the playground that Willow and I used to frequent when we were
little kids, and laughing to myself about how many of my dreams tended to
take place in that spot. It wasn't like any other dream I'd had before; I
knew it was a dream and still didn't try to wake myself up.
I sat down on the edge of the merry-go-round and dug my feet into the sand
underfoot, pushing myself a little. The merry-go-round drifted lightly and I
looked up at the sky, seeing the most blue blue I had ever seen. I heard
laughter and glanced back down to see a little blond girl leaping off the
swings, her hair flying behind her and shining like the sun. Willow, at six
or seven years old, clapped her hands and squealed and then turned to me.
Suddenly her child self was gone and she stood next to me, her bright eyes
leveled on mine.
"I was waiting for you," I said quietly.
She laughed, shaking her head. "No you weren't."
"Yes I was," I insisted. "I've been waiting for you forever."
"Xander." She used that tone that she always uses when something is
completely obvious and I'm still missing it entirely. "Why do you think you
were waiting? I was always right here."
"In the playground?" I smiled.
Her eyes twinkled. "What better place?" After a moment of silence, her face
grew serious. "We're not in the playground, you know."
"Where are we then?" I don't even know why I asked-- I already knew the
answer. But I guess some part of me needed to hear her say it.
Willow drifted close to me, until we were inches apart. She lifted her hand,
placing it against my chest, and met my eyes. "We're in your heart. This is
where you keep everything that you've always known was real and true and
forever in your life. This is where you keep me."
"Yes," I said simply, my voice hoarse. "I love you, Willow. If you weren't
mine, I wouldn't think that friends like you really existed. ...You're my
best friend."
"I love you too," she replied, her voice barely a sigh. She slipped into my
arms and I held her as tightly as I could, kissing the top of her head as she
breathed against me. A giggle escaped her. "This sure took us long enough
to get out, didn't it?"
"No, it didn't," I said, surprising myself. "We've been getting it out it
for over twenty years... Just not out loud, not like this. But that doesn't
make it any less special."
She nodded, a smile playing around the corner of her mouth. "Exactly."
There have been dreams that I've remembered before. Ones that I've had over
ten years ago that I think about to this day. But I knew that this one was
the most important of them all, the one that would remain with me until I
didn't dream anymore.
"Xander?"
I looked up to see Cordelia staring at me. "What? What's going on?"
Her brow furrowed. "Nothing. You were just.... Miles away. Galaxies away.
Galaxies far, far away."
I grinned. "You know it's not fair to use my Star Wars obsession against
me." I took her hand and pulled her close, kissing her firmly. "I was
thoughts away. And that's the farthest I ever want to be from you."
She studied me for a moment, almost as though weighing the honesty of my
statement, and then her face relaxed in a smile, giving me a flash of her
faint dimple. "That's the farthest I'm ever going to let you get," she
declared. "Except when I'm upset with you."
"So we're breaking up then?" I hid my smile and she smacked my arm. "What?
You're almost always upset with me!"
"Yeah, well, you almost always deserve it," she mumbled, leaning into me.
Her hair brushed my chin and I caught the scent of her fruity shampoo and
paused to inhale it further. As strong as she was, as annoying as she could
be, she somehow always managed to be strictly feminine, and I enjoyed the
moments where I got to think about that.
Well, not just think about it....
As if she could read my thoughts, she pulled away and hit me lightly again,
raising her eyebrows and glancing around pointedly. I nodded, letting my
eyes linger on her face, and kissed her again briefly before turning to look
back at the group.
I kept my voice low. "What happened with Angel?"
She sighed. "He got used to eating in front of Wesley and I when we were all
working together... But I guess it's different here. As much as he cares
about Buffy and Giles and everyone, they're also reminders of the worst that
he can be and he's having a hard time believing that you all don't have a
problem seeing him feed, seeing that side of him. It'll take a little time."
What if there isn't any time? I wondered to myself, my chest aching suddenly.
Willow's voice cut through the thought. "Hey, Giles."
He glanced up from his own book. "Yes?"
"What about this?" She bit her lip gently, her eyes scanning the page in
front of her. "'Among the dead the dead shall rise. The New shall become
the Old and the power shall shift among them."
Giles pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Very interesting.
Perhaps a spell to raise dusted vampires?"
"Like with what happened to Darla?" Cordelia asked.
"Perhaps."
"I don't think so," Angel said. "Maybe a possession of their souls. The
real danger in the Old Ones isn't their bodies but the knowledge of dark
magicks and such that they possessed. From what we know so far, it seems as
though this will happen quickly and the spell to revive a dusted vampire
takes a while. Besides that, they don't have the needed scrolls."
Giles frowned, nodding slightly to Angel, and turned back to his book and
silence blanketed the room again. I sighed, giving Cordelia's hand a squeeze
and then turned back to my own research, feeling uncomfortable.
Somehow no news was worse than bad news right now.
I still sometimes think about how my life might have turned out differently.
There are a bunch of 'what if's that go through my mind, a bunch of questions
that I don't bother saying out loud because I know I'll never know the
answers to them. As I watched Willow flip through the pages of those
way-too-hard-to-find scrolls, and remembered the dream I had, though, I knew
that those questions didn't really matter anymore.
Everyone wonders about what could be different. The point of it was, even
though I still thought about things like that, I was content with my life. I
was in love with a beautiful, strong woman, and was lucky enough to have her
love me back. I'd had an exciting life, filled with things that most people
don't even believe are real or possible. I had people who cared about me,
who were willing to sacrifice everything for me. And I had a best friend-- a
real best friend, the kind that knows your every thought and gesture before
it's said and done, the kind that spent years studying you, helping you,
laughing with you, holding you and loving you.
As a matter of fact, I had a lot of best friends.
How many people can say that about their lives?
My mind again flashed to the dream I had the previous night. I had been
walking in the playground that Willow and I used to frequent when we were
little kids, and laughing to myself about how many of my dreams tended to
take place in that spot. It wasn't like any other dream I'd had before; I
knew it was a dream and still didn't try to wake myself up.
I sat down on the edge of the merry-go-round and dug my feet into the sand
underfoot, pushing myself a little. The merry-go-round drifted lightly and I
looked up at the sky, seeing the most blue blue I had ever seen. I heard
laughter and glanced back down to see a little blond girl leaping off the
swings, her hair flying behind her and shining like the sun. Willow, at six
or seven years old, clapped her hands and squealed and then turned to me.
Suddenly her child self was gone and she stood next to me, her bright eyes
leveled on mine.
"I was waiting for you," I said quietly.
She laughed, shaking her head. "No you weren't."
"Yes I was," I insisted. "I've been waiting for you forever."
"Xander." She used that tone that she always uses when something is
completely obvious and I'm still missing it entirely. "Why do you think you
were waiting? I was always right here."
"In the playground?" I smiled.
Her eyes twinkled. "What better place?" After a moment of silence, her face
grew serious. "We're not in the playground, you know."
"Where are we then?" I don't even know why I asked-- I already knew the
answer. But I guess some part of me needed to hear her say it.
Willow drifted close to me, until we were inches apart. She lifted her hand,
placing it against my chest, and met my eyes. "We're in your heart. This is
where you keep everything that you've always known was real and true and
forever in your life. This is where you keep me."
"Yes," I said simply, my voice hoarse. "I love you, Willow. If you weren't
mine, I wouldn't think that friends like you really existed. ...You're my
best friend."
"I love you too," she replied, her voice barely a sigh. She slipped into my
arms and I held her as tightly as I could, kissing the top of her head as she
breathed against me. A giggle escaped her. "This sure took us long enough
to get out, didn't it?"
"No, it didn't," I said, surprising myself. "We've been getting it out it
for over twenty years... Just not out loud, not like this. But that doesn't
make it any less special."
She nodded, a smile playing around the corner of her mouth. "Exactly."
There have been dreams that I've remembered before. Ones that I've had over
ten years ago that I think about to this day. But I knew that this one was
the most important of them all, the one that would remain with me until I
didn't dream anymore.
"Xander?"
I looked up to see Cordelia staring at me. "What? What's going on?"
Her brow furrowed. "Nothing. You were just.... Miles away. Galaxies away.
Galaxies far, far away."
I grinned. "You know it's not fair to use my Star Wars obsession against
me." I took her hand and pulled her close, kissing her firmly. "I was
thoughts away. And that's the farthest I ever want to be from you."
She studied me for a moment, almost as though weighing the honesty of my
statement, and then her face relaxed in a smile, giving me a flash of her
faint dimple. "That's the farthest I'm ever going to let you get," she
declared. "Except when I'm upset with you."
"So we're breaking up then?" I hid my smile and she smacked my arm. "What?
You're almost always upset with me!"
"Yeah, well, you almost always deserve it," she mumbled, leaning into me.
Her hair brushed my chin and I caught the scent of her fruity shampoo and
paused to inhale it further. As strong as she was, as annoying as she could
be, she somehow always managed to be strictly feminine, and I enjoyed the
moments where I got to think about that.
Well, not just think about it....
As if she could read my thoughts, she pulled away and hit me lightly again,
raising her eyebrows and glancing around pointedly. I nodded, letting my
eyes linger on her face, and kissed her again briefly before turning to look
back at the group.
I kept my voice low. "What happened with Angel?"
She sighed. "He got used to eating in front of Wesley and I when we were all
working together... But I guess it's different here. As much as he cares
about Buffy and Giles and everyone, they're also reminders of the worst that
he can be and he's having a hard time believing that you all don't have a
problem seeing him feed, seeing that side of him. It'll take a little time."
What if there isn't any time? I wondered to myself, my chest aching suddenly.
Willow's voice cut through the thought. "Hey, Giles."
He glanced up from his own book. "Yes?"
"What about this?" She bit her lip gently, her eyes scanning the page in
front of her. "'Among the dead the dead shall rise. The New shall become
the Old and the power shall shift among them."
Giles pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Very interesting.
Perhaps a spell to raise dusted vampires?"
"Like with what happened to Darla?" Cordelia asked.
"Perhaps."
"I don't think so," Angel said. "Maybe a possession of their souls. The
real danger in the Old Ones isn't their bodies but the knowledge of dark
magicks and such that they possessed. From what we know so far, it seems as
though this will happen quickly and the spell to revive a dusted vampire
takes a while. Besides that, they don't have the needed scrolls."
Giles frowned, nodding slightly to Angel, and turned back to his book and
silence blanketed the room again. I sighed, giving Cordelia's hand a squeeze
and then turned back to my own research, feeling uncomfortable.
Somehow no news was worse than bad news right now.