The One Who Does Magic

Chapter 8

Disclaimer #52: I don't own much—although I do have a nice desk for sale—especially not any characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Please do not sue or otherwise financially compromise me.

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"Holy pink slip, Willow! I was supposed to be at work two hours ago!"

"Okay, don't worry, Xander. Just call and tell them—"

"Tell them what?" Xander asked, more squeakily than he'd intended. "That I'm sick? Or maybe an asteroid crashed into my back yard? Ooh, or I could try—"

"The truth?" Willow offered calmly.

"The truth?" Xander squawked. "Oh, sure. Like that'd go over well. Just call my foreman and say—"

"'Dude, you won't believe what happened to me this morning,'" Willow scripted. "'I just found out I got a girl pregnant.'"

"Will, I really don't think—"

"Xander, is it or is it not true that you work with a bunch of guys?" Willow asked.

"True, but I don't see what—"

"And describe for me, if you will, what, say, your response would be if one of the other guys unloaded a piece of news like that on the rest of the group."

"Well, it'd probably be something like, 'My condolences, man,'—but, I mean, obviously it's not the same with you and me because you're my best friend and I'm definitely not upset, and—"

"And I didn't start this line of dialogue to look for offense in your answer, Xan. I'm trying to say that the truth will probably earn you an honorable discharge for the day. Now go make a call, wouldja? I want the tour of your house already, and then I fully expect you to take me out to lunch." She smiled a self-satisfied smile and waited for his compliance.

"I always knew one of us was pretty darn smart, Will," Xander replied gratefully, heading for the phone.

.

"Geez, Xander, I didn't expect the place to be spotless, but I gotta say, you're gonna have to improve upon your current level of cleanliness if you expect me to allow my child in here," Willow teased, taking in the empty pizza boxes stacked on the kitchen counter.

"Don't forget, said offspring is partly mine, and, as such, will be forgiving of a little disarray," Xander replied, laughing.

"You keep doing that," Willow said, looking at Xander with a suspicious smile.

"Doing what?"

"Laughing," Willow answered. "Smiling. Giggling. It's just…weird. Bearing in mind that weird and Sunnydale go together like peanut butter and pickles—"

"Gah!" Xander said, screwing up his face in disgust. "Not dodging the pregnancy clichés, are ya, Will? You don't really eat stuff like that, do you?"

"Nope. Just having a little fun at the expense of your near-vegetative state. So, do I dare enter the bathroom in this place? I mean, unfortunately, it's either that or going out in the yard, because the baby's river-dancing on my bladder, but still. Do I need a hazmat suit?"

Xander laughed. "A blindfold, maybe. Here, it's down the hall."

Emerging from the bathroom a few minutes later, Willow scowled at her friend. "This may be the nesting impulse talking, but you and I are making a date to clean this place. Soon. Almost immediately."

"Will, I don't want you to—"

"Xander, you're a yucky boy. If I leave it up to you, it won't get done right. Besides, you will totally be buying me pizza."

"Deal."

.

"So? Tell me what went down. I assume he's still alive—"

"Yes."

"And conscious?"

"Well…for now."

"And…? I'm suffering an acute lack of details, Will. There are things I must know, and I must know them now, lest I fly out there and torture it out of you with my pouty face."

"You know, you keep threatening stuff like that and it'll only make me clam up even more, Buffy. I'd kill for you to be here. Well, not actually kill, but maybe maim. Or severely annoy. I could definitely employ some tactics—"

"Willow Rosenberg!" Buffy broke in. "I need immediate and intimate knowledge of exactly what was said—to whom, by whom, in what tone, and with what expression—and I need it now."

"Okay, okay," Willow said, laughing. Her friend's tone was threatening only insofar as it kept escalating toward a range that only dogs could hear. "You're a dirty gossip, but I will feed your addiction, just this once."

"I should hope so!" Buffy said, triumphant. "Now, give it to me, girl. How'd he take it?"

"He actually took it fine. Better than fine. I suspected demon possession at first, but then I caught him leering at my chest."

"Oh, right. How's that workin' out for ya?"

"Let's just say if I'd had these attributes in high school—well, without the accompanying little passenger—I'd have been a LOT more popular," Willow laughed.

"True. You would've gotten Xander in the sack way before now—"

"Buffy! Do you want to hear this or not?"

"I'll be good," Buffy promised. "Please, continue before I hyperventilate!"

"Okay. So, you know how he kinda passed out when you leaked the news on the phone?"

"I remember a thud, yeah."

"It was a scene doomed to be repeated."

"Seriously? God, he faces vamps, monsters, all manner of evil-doers, but he gets one girl pregnant, and bam! It's the floor for him."

"He's a delicate flower, our Xander," Willow laughed. "But I can't say I'd have reacted much better. Although, you know, the impossibility factor of the shoe being on the other foot…well, you know what I mean. It was quite a shocking little tidbit of information for him."

"But he got over the shock, right? Got all comfy with it?" Buffy asked hopefully.

"You know, yeah. He kinda did. It's a little eerie, actually, but…well, the mind of Xander is a deep and paradoxical thing. Much more so than he'd have us believe, with his constant self flagellation and joke peddling."

"Aw, Will. Listen to you, buildin' up yo baby's daddy like that," Buffy teased warmly. "But you're right. Xander is a good guy. A really good guy. If I were going to accidentally get pregnant, I'd want it to be with someone like Xander."

Willow giggled at her friend's fumbling compliment. "Thanks for the ringing endorsement. He'll be glad to know you'd recommend him to all your friends."

"No, really, Will. I'm not just trying to make you feel better. I honestly believe he'll be a good father. He'll do the right thing."

"That's what I'm afraid of, Buffy. He's so…I don't know…okay with it. I'm afraid he's either in shock and will freak out later, or worse: he's feeling some stuff he shouldn't feel."

"Mushy stuff?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah."

"And he shouldn't feel that?"

"No! Because of the whole sexual identity crisis, and—"

"Ah-ha! See? A crisis does not a decision make," Buffy said smugly.

"Come again?"

"If you were definitively girls' team, there'd be no crisis, right? I mean, this is just my personal opinion, but I'd say you're confused because it's possible you might love him. Or still kinda love him from before. Or love him again. Don't you think?"

"I try not to lately. It leads to stress, which leads to no sleep, which gives me more time to think."

"Okay, then don't think," Buffy said gently. "Feel."

There was a long silence, and Buffy had opened her mouth to ask if Willow was still on the line when she heard a soft answer.

"What if I can't?"

"Talk to him. It doesn't have to be all relationshippy. Just get some stuff out there. Because, Will, I guarantee he has things he wants to say, and you know how he is. He won't go first."

"Maybe he will."

"Sweetie, you've kept this from him for a long time, and he's gonna feel like the reason you did that is that you didn't want him in your life. The only person who can convince him otherwise is you. He needs a chance to talk—maybe about the fact that you've been in Sunnydale for a month without even calling him, maybe about what you want and expect from him, maybe about what color to paint the nursery—or whose house the nursery's going to be in in the first place."

"Buffy, you're freaking me out. I hadn't even thought that far ahead."

"Well, it's time to start thinkin', little mama. Just talk to him. Get some movies and some pizza and chat him up. Don't forget, this is Xander we're talking about. Ply him with food and you'll be all set," she said reassuringly.

"You haven't seen me around a pizza lately. He could lose a hand."

Buffy laughed. "Okay, get two."

"Buffy, you know I love you, right?"

"No more than I love you, Will. And I'm proud of you."

Willow sniffled. "Oh, please. For forgetting how babies are made?"

"For forgetting with the right person."

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To be continued...