Disclaimers, etc, see part one.
The Boy, the Bride, his Friend and her Lover.
* * * * *
The conversation picked up again. Angie got into one of the long-standing arguments she had with her father. Her mother was occupied refereeing. They kept score, I'm sure.
"She's like Anya," Willow said to me, watching Angie.
"You think so?" I asked.
"Don't you?"
"Yeah. But I though it was just, you know, me making up things."
"Nah," Willow said "You see well for a one eyed bloke."
I'm sure the bloke was as deliberate as the reference to my impaired sight.
"Thanks," I said.
"She's also kinda hot," Willow said.
"Willow, are checking out my wife?" I asked.
My wife. I grinned, no doubt very goofily considering the look Willow gave me. I think she thought the same thing I did about what I had said. It was strange. But in the way that the rest of our lives had been so strange, it fit.
"I've got no hope," Willow said, reassuring me, but not looking away from Angie. "She's nuts about you."
"You can see that?"
"Duh!"
"It's not a witchy thing is it?"
"I thinks it's residue from my knowing exactly where Xander is and who may be checking him out stage. She's definitely caught the Xander bug."
She nodded happily. It was strangely almost like the Buffy years had been a kind of dream. The Hardesties decided that they were neglecting the rest of the table and turned back to us.
"Ms Rosenberg, are you to be married?" Mr Hardesty asked suddenly. He's a strange old-fashioned man. "I notice you don't wear a ring, but that doesn't always mean much these days."
"I don't think I will marry, sir," Willow said, with equal solemnity. "But I am in a committed relationship."
She smiled her sweet smile which I knew as I'm-being-nice-but-you're-not-going-to-push-it. Mrs Hardesty seemed to recognise it.
"It's good to see young people being sure of themselves," she said. "It's good that you have someone, and that you can see that it's serious. Will you have children?"
I hadn't known Mrs Hardesty very long, about a week at that stage, but she seemed quite firm in her views that children made a couple.
"I don't think so," Willow said politely. I was infinitely grateful to her for being so tactful.
Mrs Hardesty tutted. "You'd make a great mother dear. Don't let anyone else convince you otherwise."
"Thank you," Willow beamed. "I do hope to become a teacher when I've finished college."
"You haven't finished yet? I don't see that you could have had any trouble."
"Oh, no. My college education has been interrupted by various Things."
The table turned to more general topics of college, subjects, professions, how construction was a good solid occupation and really anyone could do what they had decided to do. The last was aimed at Angie who hadn't decided what she wanted to do with her Media Business major, although running away was better than working in a diner. Even Buffy now had been able to quit being the Slayer.
Angie changed the topic by asking Willow about Cleveland. I had spent some time with Willow and Kennedy there, they had a nice little set up going. And a well built house.
"It's good. It's not California," Willow said. "My partner and I have let our spare room out to this great guy." I knew what she meant, they had a Watcher.
"He's got a fabulous collection of books. Giles drooled over a couple of them. He's a librarian. But we're looking after Michael, so we get the books."
She sounded very smug about it. I felt a little sorry from Giles being separated from books. He did like them, the smell, the texture, the joy at opening a book the right page. I had begun to learn what he meant towards the end.
"Still, it's a reason for Giles to visit, isn't it?" I asked.
"Yeah," she said, the smug look not leaving.
"You look after this young man?" Mrs Hardesty pressed.
"Michael's still only quite young. He's about seventeen, so Kennedy and I have to look after him."
"Will, Kennedy's only, what, twenty-two?"
"Yeah. You and me, we're old. All of twenty-five. We made it to twenty five, Xan," she whispered. "You remember the Master."
"Of course," I said deliberately. But I knew what she meant. We were going to get old. It was a good feeling, not one, I'm sure, many people have. Anya was terrified of getting old. Had been. Part of me should be glad she didn't have to go through that.
"You going to settle down yet?" Willow demanded, pulling me out of wherever I was.
"Nah. Angie wants to continue the trip. She said I said I was going to see all of America, that's what she signed on for."
Angie laughed and kissed my cheek. She then had to describe everything I hadn't already said in my emails.
"Mom, dad, if you want to get home before it too dark you'll have to leave soon," Angie said at about five o'clock.
Mrs Hardesty looked at her watch. "Oh, yes, dear, we will," she exclaimed. The look she shot her daughter made Angie blush.
"We should be going soon, Arthur," she said.
"What, yes, of course," Mr Hardesty said. He didn't even pretend to sound startled.
Willow gave me a 'you got yourself into this' look. I grinned rakishly at her. At least I think I did, and she didn't laugh.
"Write to us when you're back on the road, dear," Mrs Hardesty told Angie. "It was good to meet such a close friend of Xander's, Willow. Good luck with your studies."
"Thank you, Mrs Hardesty."
"Beatrice, dear," she said. Which was not an honour she had yet to extend to me.
Mrs Hardesty stood up. "We really should start home while it's light, Arthur. Congratulations, Xander, on taking our girl from us."
"Ah, thank you, Mrs Hardesty."
"Goodness, boy, call her Beatrice," Mr Hardesty said, standing up.
Beatrice smiled at me. "His name's Arthur," she said conspiratorially to me.
"Thank you both," I said, standing to walk with them to the door.
Angie kissed both her parents and they shook Willow's hand.
I shook hands with them both. "You understand that it's difficult for me to wink," I said.
Arthur chuckled heartily on his way out to the car. Beatrice patted me on the shoulder.
"You be a good boy now, and make my girl happy," she said.
She left before I had to reply. Willow was very disappointed that I hadn't said something. Angie touched my shoulder.
"You say goodbye, I'll meet you upstairs."
She hugged Willow before dangling the key at me and disappearing.
"You've found an amazing family, Xander," she said watching Angie disappear.
"Can you stop checking her out, please?" I said, closing my eye. "I'll have to tell Kennedy on you."
"Oh, and she'd have to punish me," Willow said, sounding too pleased.
"Will."
"It's your wedding night, Xander. It's tradition that I tease you."
"Okay."
"Good. Now the bottle I gave you. A few drops on a baby's head. Red for a Slayer, green for magic."
"Thanks," I said, not sure how I should take it.
"It's right that you know. We've given some to all out people in hospitals. The Council had good connections."
"It's good that's working," I said.
"How much have you told her?" Willow asked. Her tone was almost disinterested.
"All that I could."
She nodded, smiling understandingly. But I could that she wasn't happy in the same way that Robin wasn't. She wasn't disappointed in me so much as she was sorry that she wasn't a part of my life now. So was I, but I didn't want to put Angie through the trauma of all that could happen.
"We miss you," she said, looking up at me. Willow's eyes have always been amazing and I could see through them then. I felt sure about where I was and where I was going. I had no idea where I was going, but I was going to go there with Angie and I wasn't going to find any monsters on the way. And Willow understood. That was the last piece of the puzzle I'd been missing.
"I miss you too," I said.
"Good," she said. "The others said to say congratulations after they'd gotten over the shock. They also actually made me come so that I could make you go through with it."
"I'm glad you have so much faith in me," I said.
"Buffy said to make sure that she wasn't a demon. You're fine Xander. You'll do good things."
"You think?"
"You always did. And we'll stay in touch."
"Thank you, Willow." I knew that it was good.
"You too."
She kissed my cheek and waved cheekily at me. I didn't feel regretful or sad or mournful as I made way upstairs to room 202.
