Willow Rosenberg watched in utter fascination as a chair currently in use that was floating several inches above the floor glided out from behind a desk, adroitly curved around this piece of furniture, and ended its journey by coming to a rest next to another chair, both at the other end of the library table, with their occupants still remaining totally motionless throughout all this. The calm features of Rupert Giles and Buffy Summers didn't even change the slightest, as these two members of the Scooby Gang placidly gazed up the table at the other chairs taken by the second pair of the small group that supported the Slayer. Who, as Willow nervously realized, was going to make someone really pay for this once she got free.

As the red-haired girl apprehensively opened her mouth to comment on that ominous possibility, she heard an unfamiliar voice next to her rumble, "Don't worry, Wils. It's only a minor stasis spell. They're totally fine, and they can see and hear everything that's going on. Which is okay, but what we need to talk about… I just want to get it all out at once, without any of the interruptions that'd come from you guys."

At the start of that reassurance, Willow had turned her head from looking at Buffy and Giles, to instead gaze wonderingly at the earnest face of…of…Mayor Wilkins seated by her, who continued to keep his eyes firmly locked at the level of the girl's hairline, while the man next sheepishly muttered, "Uh, before I start, could you at least answer my question first? Why are you looking like, um… Er… What you've got on…"

As the man continued to babble while his ears turned red, Willow glanced down at her racy clothing, and she felt her own massive blush appear over her whole face and upper chest, which was currently being presented to the entire world. Not daring to raise her head at where the man in his chair next to hers had finally shut up, the smartest girl in Sunnydale High managed an awkward mumble of her own, "Buffy talked me into this when we were changing at her house. I lost my nerve and put on my ghost costume over it instead" (Willow shuddered at those last words) "before we came here, just a few hours ago?"

For a few seconds, Willow was lost in her incredulity on how much had happened during only part of tonight's Halloween, until her attention was abruptly diverted by someone's commentary in a hollow tone, "You…you changed in Buffy's bedroom, and you were wearing that under the sheet when we were together?"

Snapping up her head to stare in absolute disbelief at the man across from her, Willow observed a remarkably recognizable glassy expression slowly materialize upon the mature countenance of Richard Wilkins III, as he stared off into the distance past her left ear. In that instant, her world became familiar again, and without even thinking about it, Willow thrust out her hands to seize the older man's own fingers, fiercely squeezing these, as she resolutely demanded, "Xander Harris, what happened?"

Jerking back his attention from his surely-sexist thoughts that ordinarily Willow would have yelled at him for (and later hugged her bedroom pillow in gleeful delight at him finally noticing her), Xander-of-the-yellow-crayon looked at his bestest bud, and while gently squeezing her fingers back, he gravely told the young woman, "Wils, you know that no matter what, I'll never, ever hurt you?"

Keeping her steady stare right into the face of the no-longer-stranger, Willow maintained her grip on his hands, ignoring the odd sensation of what she'd faintly brushed against on his palms, and she firmly nodded.

"Good," sighed Xander, as his eyes momentarily glowed green/yellow. "'Cause I think I better start off by telling you everything about Hyena."

Many minutes later, the final words of the story were whispered into the tear-stained face of the young girl who'd never at all taken away her gaze from the features of someone she'd only once seen up close before, and who'd wept his own desolate tears while telling of his discovery of her dead body.

Xander's heart sank when Willow finally looked down at where her hands were still gripping his own that had been used to murder someone earlier tonight, particularly when she asked in a faint whisper, "Xan, what did you say then, those four words?"

An immense wave of guilt and sorrow washed over the man, who now feared he'd forever lost her. Huskily, he muttered, "I said, 'Janus, accept these sacrifices!'"

Still intently examining the pair of large male hands in her grasp, Willow then easily turned these over, to find what she'd felt there during all of the story. Revealed there, in both palms of someone changed by Chaos magic, were embedded deep into the now-healed flesh two small pieces of dark stone from a shattered Janus statue. Willow now lifted the hands closer to her face, to peer at the identical pair of disks implanted there, both the size of the tip of a pencil eraser in the exact center of the palms, with matching carvings on their surfaces of a crude, blank-eyed mask that steadily stared upwards at the girl regarding these representations of the god of beginnings and endings.

Engrossed in her study of the objects now a permanent part of the man next to her, without looking up, Willow then quietly said, "Sacrifices, as in more than one. Ethan Rayne was the first. Who was the other?"

Looking down at the top of Willow's head bent over his hands, the man sadly replied, "Xander Harris."

After what seemed to be an endless pause after hearing that, but was in actuality just a few seconds to consider the proper response, Willow Rosenberg then lowered her head further, and she gently kissed both of his palms, directly on the marks of Janus. Lifting her head up again, with the gleam of tears at the corners of her eyes, Willow bravely smiled at someone who'd earlier tonight had given up everything possible in his former life, just for her. She started off her next statement with a slight quaver in her voice that firmed up at the end of the question. "Well, maybe we should introduce ourselves. I'm Willow Rosenberg. And you are…?"

Feeling as if his heart was going to explode in sheer joy, the man swallowed hard, and he managed to steadily answer: "Richard Wilkins the Fourth. Call me Rick."