The One Who Does Magic
Chapter 6
A/N: Oh my gosh, thanks everyone for the reviews! I'm shocked and amazed. I didn't even know if there were any W/X shippers left in the world. It's like finding other non-mutants in a post-apocalyptic world, or remembering there's a candy bar in the cupboard when you thought there was nothing but tuna. Not that the tuna people aren't much appreciated. It takes all kinds, right? Anyway, I'm really thankful for the warm reception. And I apologize in advance for the brevity of this chapter, and I'll probably post another shortie very soon (because I'm still working on it), but I felt like this was a natural spot for a break.
Disclaimer: I'm not sure how many times we're supposed to repeat this kind of thing. Every chapter? I haven't been doing that – sorry! In any event, it should be noted that these characters do not belong to me. I'm shamelessly using them for my own pleasure, and have no intention of calling them tomorrow. I apologize for my almost masculine disregard for their feelings. Also, try not to sue me, because I would hate to lose my garden gnome collection.
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There was a dead guy on the porch.
Well, not exactly dead, and not exactly just some guy. More like one passed-out Xander, and while it should've been rather disconcerting to Willow, she felt an odd sense of relief. Followed by a significant amount of dread, because if just ringing the doorbell could cause the guy to pass out, what was he gonna do when he got a load of her?
"Xander? Come on, big boy. Wakey, wakey. Rise and shine." Willow ran her finger lightly along the side of his face, under his chin, up the other side—the way her mother had used to do to her when she was little. Of course, that was to make her sleep, not wake her up. Perhaps she needed a firmer approach.
"Come on, Xander. I have donuts," she said in a sing-song voice. "Mmmm…donuts. Who wants donuts?"
"So, donuts, huh?" Xander said, beginning to move his head. "You sure know how to get a guy going, Will."
"Let me help you up. Whoa, there we go. Say, let's make our way over to the couch, huh? Not as far to fall next time?" Willow grabbed Xander's hand and led him over to the couch, keeping her back to him. "Oh, like he doesn't already know. Like he won't see the whole enchilada in ten seconds anyway," Willow thought. It was just…impossibly hard to do this.
They sat on the couch together nervously, like a teenage couple on prom night. But this wasn't the prom, or even the preceding fluking they'd tried so hard to get past. It was… "This is impossible, Will."
Willow was somewhat taken aback by Xander's mind-reading abilities. "Well, you know, obviously it's NOT impossible," she began, flustered. "I mean, I don't think I have to give you the whole birds and bees talk, Xander—"
"No, I don't mean… Oh God, I just—I meant this whole situation is impossible. This conversation. Can we—is there any way we could skip to the middle?" Xander floundered miserably.
"I think we already have," Willow said, gesturing unnecessarily toward her belly.
"Yeah," Xander breathed, finally letting himself look at her. There was so much he wanted to say, but much of it depended on what she was going to say, what she was feeling. He decided to take the typical Xander way out. "So, Will. New outfit? Gotta say, I'm lovin' your 'overall' look." He smiled, and she smiled back. They could get through this if they could just get back to themselves.
"Thank you," Willow said, giggling, with more relief than she'd intended. "I, uh…so, how 'bout them Cubs?"
Xander grinned. He tried to keep his gaze on her face, but found himself sneaking peeks at her general mid-section. "Look, Will," he began. "I don't know if you know how much Buffy spilled on the phone—frankly, until I got here I thought it might've been a dream—and this is gonna be in the worst possible taste, but I have to ask. Is it really—did we really…" He trailed off, searching for words he didn't want to say, but he couldn't breathe properly until he did. He took a deep breath. "Is it really mine?" he said in a rush. "Please, Will, don't hate me for asking. I just have to know."
Somewhere in his stammering, Willow had started to cry, making it difficult for her to answer. She didn't notice Xander's face falling along with her tears.
"Oh, so…no then. Well, listen. It's gonna be okay, Will. You know you can count on me to help—no matter what. Heck, I'll even babysit. Teach the little tyke about all kinds of important life lessons, like how to ride a bike or suck the filling out of a Twinkie."
He was babbling, and it was so sweet, and it only made Willow cry harder.
"I didn't—mean to—it's not that you're not—" She was doing her best, but was hiccupping at least as much as talking, and she suddenly found herself in Xander's arms. "The poor guy," Willow thought. "He's comforting me even though he thinks I'm a total ho."
"Will, it's okay. Please don't cry. We're gonna work this all out. You'll see." He rubbed circles on her back, kissed the top of her head. He was clumsy at this, and it reminded Willow how long it had been since they were really close.
"N-no. That's not—" she said weakly, hiccupping into his shoulder.
"Yes, Will. I promise. Everything's gonna be fi—"
Willow pulled back, took a stuttery breath and cut him off. "No, I mean—I know that. What I mean is…it is."
"Yeah, it is, Will. It's gonna be okay. I'll be here for you, and it'll be—"
"No, Xander. It is. Yours."
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To be continued...