Two

Can you imagine us years from today
Sharing a park bench quietly?
How terribly strange to be seventy...

Back when they were freshman in high school, the class spent a day volunteering at a retirement home. Xander can still remember the dread he felt, the smell of death, the sad, lonely people that looked up at him with dull eyes, and the sudden need to get outside for fresh air. Willow had tagged along. He remembers her grabbing his arm and gesturing over to an elderly man and woman sitting on a bench outside. They were enjoying the warm sun on their faces, and they were chatting, and they looked happy.

"That'll be us, you know. Hanging out in the old age home together," she whispered.

"Hell yeah. We'll have wheelchair races down the hall? Deal?"

"Deal."

They shook on it.

***

The knocking was insistent. Xander peered through the peephole, then unlocked the door. Willow stood there, a sad Willow, staring up at him with a pained expression.

"What's wrong, Will?"

"I broke up with Kennedy. There was a scene. I had to get out of that house, I had to. My head is going to explode." Tears were running down Willow's face.

"Get your butt in here and calm down," he said, taking her by the arms and marching her into the living room.

"I don't know what I was thinking…" she said, plopping down on the sofa, her head in her hands.

"It's okay, you can always make up," Xander said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"No, no. I mean, getting involved with her in the first place. I'm such an idiot. I thought I just needed something… I thought it would help, I thought I was lonely, but now all I want is to be left alone."

Xander handed her a box of tissue. "Here. You've got raccoon eyes."

Willow let out an unexpected laugh and wiped her runny mascara off her cheek. "Don't be funny. Let me wallow in misery, okay?"

"Okay."

Willow sat back, staring sadly into space. "I think we all need to take a break from relationships. I mean, permanently. We all really suck at this. It always ends badly. What the hell is wrong with us?"

Xander put his feet up on the coffee table and leaned back, his head resting on the cushions of the sofa. "Remember that one time in high school when the three of us sat there after that whole evil Malcolm internet thing and realized we were all doomed to never having nice, healthy, normal relationships? And it was the kind of funny that was not?"

Willow sighed heavily. "Yeah."

After waiting for Xander to continue with his story, Willow finally spoke up. "And?"

"Oh, and nothing. I was just remembering it."

"That is NOT a comforting story. You're supposed to finish with, well, we were wrong, and we will live happily ever after, and it's going to be okay, and stupid crap like that." Willow rubbed her temples.

"Sorry, I suck at that. Here, sit on the floor." Willow slid off the sofa grumpily and sat in front of Xander.

"Did you know that construction managers give the best shoulder rubs known to humankind?"

"I think I did read that somewhere…" Willow said, sighing in contentment as Xander kneaded the tension away from her tight shoulders. "Oh my God, that feels incredible." Her head dropped forward like she was drugged.

"If you want, you can stay here tonight," Xander offered. "I've had the spare bedroom fumigated since Spike graced me with his presence, and we can pig out on Chinese food and rent movies."

Willow tilted her head back and stared up at him. "Really? You want to do that?"

"I've never stopped wanting to do that with you," he said. His palms were resting on her either side of her face. Suddenly his thumb itched to feel her lower lip. It almost did, almost snuck out and caressed it. Okay, that was weird.

Then Willow was standing up, her smile bright. "I'm craving beef lo mein and early Harrison Ford flicks. Let's go." She headed toward the door. Xander swallowed and had to straighten strange thoughts out of his head before he followed.