The
One Who Does Magic
Chapter 15
Disclaimer: Do I own it? No. Will I profit from this? No. Is professional wrestling real? No.
A/N: Okay, I am reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally sorry for waiting so long to update, but I kinda got caught up in writing the epilogue, which I know I can't exactly even get to without finishing the story, but still. It's a valid part of the story nonetheless (well, it's not, really, but it's an interesting sidebar that I think we'll all enjoy), and I wanted to get it firmed up before I moved on with the story. So I did. And I've also been updating my website and such, so...busy, busy, busy, ya know? Anyway, sorry!
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"Make a choice, huh?" Willow thought to herself for the hundredth time that evening, glancing over at Xander. He'd been nervous all through dinner. He'd barely spoken, and when he had, it'd been jittery attempts at humor that weren't up to his usual Xander standard. He looked over at Willow and caught her eyes on him. He smiled nervously. "Oh, God, what does she know?" he thought.
After dinner, dessert, and coffee, the family sat in the living room attempting the kind of light conversation that couldn't possibly be pried out of them after the weight of their pre-dinner discussions.
"Well, kids, I'm going to go to bed early tonight," Sheila Rosenberg announced, breaking the longest stretch of silence yet that night.
"Oh, right," Willow said understandingly. "You were up pretty early this morning. And then with making dinner and everything…"
"Yeah, dinner was great!" Xander chimed in. "I really appreciate you having me over tonight. I had a great time. I would've probably just sat around the house, and…anyway, thanks."
Mrs. Rosenberg stood and smoothed her skirt. She looked over at her husband, who was somewhat oblivious to the level of awkwardness to which the foursome had descended over the evening. "Willow," she said, "why don't you go home with Xander tonight?"
"What?" Willow asked, shocked at the implication.
"Huh?" Xander said simultaneously.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," Mrs. Rosenberg laughed. "I just mean that this has been a rather boring evening for you two kids, and you might want to go back to Xander's and watch a movie or something else a bit more fun than sitting around with parents."
"Oh," Willow said, nodding. "Well, right. That could be fun. Xander?"
"Huh?" Xander said again, his mind still on his initial interpretation of Mrs. Rosenberg's suggestion.
Willow rolled her eyes. "Do you want to go watch a movie at your place? Or something more fun than sitting around with my parents?" At her second comment, she flashed Xander a look that he could've sworn was flirty.
"Uh, sure," Xander replied. "Go get your jammies and stuff and I'll warm up the car."
As Willow ascended the stairs, Ira Rosenberg followed Xander into the foyer. "I believe you've been presented with an opportunity to ask your question, son," he said in a low voice.
Xander feigned shock, but nodded nonetheless. "You're right, sir—I mean Ira."
"And if anything should happen to encourage you two in a more romantic direction…" He gave Xander a knowing look, at which Xander's mouth dropped open.
"Are you actually encouraging me to try to…bag your daughter, sir?" Xander asked, forgetting about Mr. Rosenberg's offer of first-name addressing.
Ira raised his eyebrows. "Judging by the present state of affairs, I believe it would be a bit…belated for me to grant my permission in that regard."
Xander winced. "Touché."
"I'm simply suggesting that, despite your reluctance to 'pop the question' to Willow at this point, raising a child together is easier when the parents are a couple." He turned to Xander, who nodded slowly. "Just don't rule it out, son," Ira said warmly, patting Xander's shoulder before walking upstairs to join his wife.
A moment later, Willow came down the stairs hauling a duffel bag that was nearly her own size. Xander rushed to grab it from her and let one end thump down the stairs while he dragged the other. "Geez, Will, you planning on staying for life?"
"If you're lucky," she said, with a smile and that head tilt he'd missed so much the last several months. "I thought you were warming up the car."
"Uh…manly discussion got in the way."
"Ooh, scary," Willow said, walking past Xander to open the door. "Don't let dad freak you out, Xan. You should know by now his bark is worse than his bite."
"I didn't get his bark or his bite," Xander replied, following Willow out the door and closing it behind them. "That's what I'm worried about."
The drive to Xander's house was mercifully short—merciful in that the conversation was completely absent. They both knew that talks had been had, suggestions made. They both knew the topic said talks and suggestions. And neither knew the other's mind at all, which was something they weren't used to. They always knew; even when they didn't know their own minds, they knew each other's. But not tonight.
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"So, I'm guessing we're not really here to watch a movie," Willow said, breaking the silence that had followed them from the car to the door to the couch. The television was black.
"Can't find the remote," Xander replied, moving closer to Willow with a sudden wolfish gleam in his eye.
"That's a darn shame," Willow said softly, sidling up to Xander, putting her hand on his leg.
"Isn't it?" Xander said as he leaned toward her, brushing her hair away from her face. He followed his hand with his lips, kissing her cheek, her ear, her neck. He pulled back and looked into her face. "Will, I—"
He didn't get a chance to finish because Willow had pounced on him, her lips stopping his words, the feel of her kiss stopping the thought required to form the words in the first place. Her tongue teased open his mouth and he promptly forgot how to breathe. Oxygen deprivation jogged his memory enough for him to put his hands squarely on Willow's shoulders and push her away slightly. "Hey, you know, you're making it really hard—"
"I've heard that can happen," Willow interrupted, nodding sagely.
"Willow Rosenberg, you little minx!" Xander said, acting shocked. "I meant you're making it hard to talk. Which I sorta wanted to do with you tonight. Not that this other thing isn't pleasant…" His expression glazed over a bit as he thought back to their tongue wrestling session just moments before. His hand slid down her arm of its own volition, ending its journey on her hand, where he began stroking her palm with his thumb.
"Oh, no you don't," Willow said, breaking his lack of concentration. "You wanna talk, buster? We're gonna talk. And I know just what you want to talk about."
"Gulp," Xander said.
"Did you just say, 'Gulp'?" Willow asked. "Nice dialogue, Shaggy. I so look forward to the rest of this conversation."
"Hey, I've got better stuff," Xander said defensively. "It's all up here." He pointed to his head. "Played out just perfectly in the old noggin. And, might I add, the you in my head was eating out of the hands of the me in my head."
"That's probably because any me anywhere will eat anything from any container nowadays," Willow replied. "And, might I add," she said, mimicking him, "if anyone's eating out of anyone's hand, it's you. Out of mine. As it should be." She had a satisfied, if slightly syntax-boggled, look on her face.
"I cannot fault that logic," Xander said. "Nor will I try, because any more sentences like that and I will succumb to a brain cloud."
"There's no such thing as a brain cloud, Joe," Willow teased. "And yet, I believe you wanted to talk."
"Right. Talking is good." He was nervous, and wasn't sure why. After all, it was just Willow.
"That's what they say." She was suddenly entranced by the hem of her shirt, and wasn't sure why. After all, it was just Xander.
"So…" Xander began.
"Yeah…" Willow said.
The clock on the wall ticked unbelievably loudly for a few seconds while the room's occupants screwed up their respective courages.
Simultaneously, they blurted:
"Do
you want to get married?"
"Do you want to move in?"
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A/N #2: Oohhhh, was that mean of me? I didn't mean to be mean. It's just that I...oh, who am I trying to kid? I knew exactly what I was doing. But never fear: I know exactly what I'm doing. So don't worry. It's all gonna be ohhhhh-kaaaayyyyy.