Title: Back of my Hand
Rating: PG
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Timeframe: Summer after season 7
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters; I'm just playing for a while.


In spite of the stories built up around the ultimate friendship of the scoobies, mostly told by Andrew to less than interested slayers, their parting was ultimately mundane. The new slayers headed back to homes left behind in the dead of night with exciting new powers and carefully rehearsed stories for their families.

Kennedy and Andrew, like costars of the strangest buddy cop movie ever made, declared their intention to guard the Cleveland hellmouth and left behind a strangely relieved, if a little confused, Willow. Faith and Wood, lost in the beginning of their new relationship, agreed to follow and keep an eye on the odd couple. Giles left for England; intent on accessing the network of watcher's left in remote areas around the world and visiting every last archaic bookstore to build the new library. Buffy and Dawn spent days planning their epic road trip, heads huddled together over the map on the bed, giggling about long-forgotten cousins and sister secrets. One sunny day in June, the pair loaded their car, leaving Willow and Xander on the sidewalk waving as the tiny used escort faded into the distance.

********************************

We'll send you a postcard from all the strange roadside attractions. A picture of the world's largest fork has to be worth something. And it's just for the summer, right? I mean, we gotta form the newer, better Watcher's Council. Dawn pulled her to the car as Buffy continued babbling. You've got the cell number and our travel plans and...Dawn, let go! Bye, guys! You know I love you and I...just have a good summer, all right?

********************************

Willow and Xander were together in a strange land and sleeping in the same bed again, chaste as the five year olds who bonded over their love of Rainbow Brite. They settled back into familiar patterns; snarking over pay-per-view movies in the hotel, braiding hair, picking green peppers off Willow's slice while she picked the sausage off his, and talking about everything they'd avoided in the last three years of drama.

But there were differences as well. Neither of them ever thought they'd overhear the other arguing with insurance companies and unions about catastrophic coverage and whether or not earthquakes were covered. Or searching through want ads in all 50 states for a position that didn't care about a missing eye or lack of references. And Willow didn't remember hearing Xander cry through the bathroom door during their idyllic childhood, except that time Larry killed the 2nd grade hamster. They needed each other.

It was perfect and it couldn't last.

**********************************



Yes, Xander?

I found a job. Her eyes lit up, mouth open and ready for squealing. Don't freak out yet.



It's kind of far but it pays well and they're paying the moving costs. Plus a company car. And housing. It's really a pretty good deal. My union set it up and I--

How far?

It's kind of...really far.

And yet again, I ask how far? With a preemptive doofus, doofus.

Just remember, it's only for the summer and you have summer school at UCLA anyway and we'll be able to talk all the time on the phone and I'll be back in August for Buffy and Dawn's triumphant return.

Glare.

It's in Alaska. Fairbanks to be exact. Land of the midnight sun. 24 hours of daylight.


******************************

His crew had been repaving the endless stretches of highway cutting a path through the wildest forest Xander had ever seen. Working as a flagger, while mind numbingly boring, paid almost as well as overseeing his carpentry team back in Sunnydale. But the hours spent waiting on rows of cars gave the mind time to wander. And Xander's mind was stuck in the past.

Xander was Fairbanks for three weeks before he ventured out into the midnight sunshine. His sleep cycle was fucked due to the relentless sunshine, so he figured a little recreation probably couldn't hurt. The streets filled with families as he neared the playing field and Xander carefully adjusted his eye patch before stepping through the turnstile. Clemmy from work said this was the place for hip and happening residents of Fairbanks; midnight baseball at Growden Park watching the Goldpanners play ball without the aid of artificial light.

Willow called from her dorm room yesterday and commented on Xander's homebody-ness. She insisted he leave his tiny studio apartment and get to work on frontiering that last frontier.

******************************



Hey, Xander! Seen a moose yet?

Willow! Hey. No moose sightings so far, but I've got my fingers crossed. Here's hoping. He grinned when he heard the familiar giggles on the other end of the line. I did see a dead cat today when we paved mile two hundred and fifty three, does that count for anything?

Eew. And no. Only a moose will do, or possibly a bear, or a herd of caribou. Anyway, you should be out exploring. You're always home when I call.

So are you.

Well, I've got an excuse. I'm catching up on a semester and a half of schoolwork. I'm library girl or dorm girl depending on what time it is. You're footloose and fancy free; go sow some oats.

I don't know--if I can do that yet. It's hard right now. I can't sleep without dreaming about her.

She heard him sigh. How are you really doing?

Seriously? I feel like Al Pacino in that movie...the one where he goes crazy because of the sun. Seriously, Wil, it's crazy. But I've found a solution. He paused for effect, stealthily avoiding Willow's question. Tin foil.

She sighed, but fell back into her role. You know, Xander. Aliens can hear your thoughts right through the tinfoil. But if it makes you feel safe, I guess. To each his ow--

For the windows, you doof! To block out the light.

Just kidding. And Xander?



You really need to get out more. See yourself a moose or two.

********************************

At the top of the second, Xander settled into his seat with a cold alaskan ale and a reindeer sausage on a bun that looked suspiciously like a regular hot dog. The game was better than he expected and the stadium was filled to capacity with every manner of person. A perfect day for baseball even if it was the middle of the night. Number 33 hit a double and the Goldpanners were up by three before being tagged out as he tried to steal third.

Wait. Are we supposed to be cheering here? And why are they leaving the field? Is the game over?

Xander turned to his left and looked bemusedly at the woman chattering next to him. Are you talking to me?

Yes, I am. You seem to understand what's going on out there. He scooted backward so he wouldn't have to turn his head so far. Hi. I'm Sequoia and yes, I know that's the name of an SUV. Blame my parents; they're the hippies.

Xander. And I think it's a perfectly...okay, I can't think of anything to say here. It's a strange name. But I am Xander, so I guess I shouldn't talk. She smiled and touched his forearm. Are you sure you're not a d--not familiar with the game? She nodded and he spent the rest of the game explaining the intricacies of America's game.

There was no tinfoil on her bedroom windows and Xander slipped out of the apartment without leaving his number. On the long drive home, he saw his first moose.