Willow and Xander slumped together against the large, tin trashcans a few metres away from The Bronze trying to work out what had just happened. Willow had staked Nancy, the girl they had tried to save from Sassprokasa who had been turned into a vampire when she came into this new dimension they currently inhabited, but she had just exploded in a flash of green light and sent the pair sailing through the air into the garbage.

"This is our way home, Will, it has to be," Xander said excitedly as he stood up, brushing the traces of garbage from his leather ensemble. "Did you see what just happened? Icky green slime like liquid kryptonite, just like the gloop that brought us here!"

"I don't know," Willow said, her voice full of doubt as the sensible side of her ruled over the excitement she felt inside that they could have just found the way back to their own world. "What if vampires die like that in this dimension?"

"Vampires die the same anywhere, don't they?" he asked. "I mean, it's not as if you slay one in Britain and it explodes in a mass of tea."

"Maybe not," she conceded. "But…"

"…I mean, what about Eskimo's?" he continued. "Do they morph into small snowmen on dusting?"

"That'd be so cute!" she exclaimed with a grin, looking up at him. "Ooh, I wonder if the fangs would look like mini carrots…" she trailed off, realising going off on a tangent and getting carried away with Xander wasn't going to help. "But that's not the point…" she said, getting back to business. "This is a different dimension," she pointed out. "Vampires may have a different genetic make-up, or they could have been altered in some way when they were first created here. Anything is possible here."

"So what if we dust another one?" he asked hopefully. "Just an ordinary vampire?"

"Who knows how many people have ended up here," she said thoughtfully. "But, technically, yeah, I guess so."

"And we still have the re-entry ooze option as well, don't we?" Xander asked, taking her hand and helping his friend back up onto her feet and brushing some pieces of trash off her clothes, his hand lingering on her body longer than it should.

"Thanks…" Willow said, suddenly finding the power of speech way too difficult with the tingles that went through her body with each tender hand he laid upon her.

"No…uh, problem…" he replied slowly, his eyes travelling from her body up to her face, his eyes fixing on hers again. "There you are…nice, clean and…still dominatrixy," his eyes widened in horror, and he covered his mouth with his hand. "Did I just say that out loud? Oh, God, I'm an idiot!"

Willow giggled, looking back into his eyes, knowing where this could be going if one of them didn't break the tension. "Xander, we can't do this," she whispered.

"Sure we can," he told her, suddenly finding his voice full of emotion, grasping her slender arms with his strong grip. "In this dimension…in these bodies… We're free."

"Xander, I…" she started.

"Miss Willow?" a voice came, and the large frame of Harley stood in front of them, casting a shadow and blocking out the front lights from the club, leaving them in the darkness of the alley. He was still brandishing a chainsaw, the blade of which seemed slightly mangled, and they really didn't want to think about why.

"Harley?" Willow said, glad of the interruption that saved her from what was rapidly becoming an uncomfortable conversation, leaving Xander to turn and skulk away behind the trashcans. "What's up?" she asked the vampire.

"I got me a problem," Harley mumbled in his usual southern drawl. "This 'ere chainsaw ain't cuttin' through the bone so well."

"Oh, I see," she said politely, taking the chainsaw from him and looking carefully, examining it for anything familiar. "Well, perhaps if you just turn this…"

"Hey, fat boy!" Xander interrupted with a yell. "Think fast!" he shouted, seemingly coming out of nowhere and plunging another stake he had found through Harley's ample body.

"Think it might be the yella…urfff—" Were Harley's last words as he exploded into dust. Just like any other vampire.

Seeing what he had done, Xander leapt back in fright, letting the stake fall to the ground with a noise that seemed unnaturally loud in the alley. He cupped his hands around his mouth in shock. "Did I do that?" he asked Willow with frantic eyes. "Was that me?" he stuttered. "It couldn't have been!"

"Xander!" Willow exclaimed, dropping the chainsaw in the trash. "Why?"

"I don't know," he said quickly, looking between her and the pile of dust on the ground. "It just came from nowhere. I called him 'fat boy'. 'Hey, fat boy,' I said-that was me, I said it. He could've creamed me, but…"

"You creamed him first!" Willow said excitedly and proudly. "And-and he died like any other vamp. This means that you were right!" she told him, bending to examine the particles that had been Harley. "It could be our ticket home!"

"Wow," he said to himself. "Winning a fight and being right all in one day," he couldn't help smiling. "And dad said neither would ever happen…" he frowned suddenly. "And they still haven't in his dimension, damnit! Why am I always in an alternative reality when I do good stuff?"

"I think we should still check around the corner," Willow replied, standing from her crouched position. "Just in case."

"Yeah, I guess," he allowed. "Let's go."

---

They were silent as the left the alley and walked past the building they knew as the Bronze. No words were exchanged, but they knew they were both thinking the same things. They pondered the advantages and pitfalls of staying as vampires in the new dimension.

The same issues came up in each of their minds. They knew that staying here would totally wreck the future they were destined to live back home, but staying here meant that they could carve a new one, a different one. A future that meant they could do anything without fear of repercussions and never having to worry about money. Saving the world and putting themselves in danger would never again be an option. They could live for themselves, and for each other, something they hadn't been able to do for a long time.

Xander knew that he would enjoy the power he had been longing for, but then the thought struck him that staying here meant that he would be removing himself from the situation he wanted it for in the first place. He wanted the power to help Buffy, to be an integral part of the group like Willow was with her magical abilities or Giles with his research. If he stayed here, that power wouldn't be used for good, it would be evil.

There would be no more sunny days, lying on the beach with Willow and Buffy, eating picnic lunches Joyce had made and making fun of the sun worshippers. There would be no more soul, either. Eventually, they would both become the evil, soulless creatures whose bodies they currently inhabited, and neither of them would have chosen that lifestyle- or un-lifestyle. But, then, soon enough they probably wouldn't even care. They wouldn't have the conscience to even consider what they had given up.

The one advantage that they kept coming back to, though, was that they would be together finally in this world. No complication, no other halves, no guilt… But was it worth stripping away every piece of their lives, everything that they knew, for?

"So why do you think Nancy went all green when she died?" Xander asked eventually. "You think that was her being sent back home?"

"Okay, here's what I think happened," Willow said, going into full science teacher mode. "When the gloopy stuff takes effect, our physical bodies shift dimensions. Like, earlier tonight when I came back to the cemetery, there was nothing left of you physically, just a smoky outline."

"Cool," Xander said with a smile. "Just like the Delorean."

"Yeah," she said, not informing him that the same thought had passed through her mind at the time. "So, when Nancy died in this reality, the body no longer had a counterpart to exist in, so my guess is she was whisked back home or…" Willow continued.

"Don't like the 'or'," he told her with a grimace. "Definitely not a fan of the 'or', especially when it comes after the good part."

"…Or…" she said, "It could have obliterated her completely from existence. Maybe even sent her onto the next dimension."

"So it's not a way out and we're back where we started?" he asked, obviously annoyed.

"No," she shook her head. "No, at least we know more about it," she told him. "More knowledge is always good. Isn't it?"

"It's no good knowing how a clock works if it's going to destroy you once it's ticked its first tock!" he snapped. "Hey," he said, suddenly looking thoughtful. "So what happened to the Nancy in this dimension then when ours first landed? Do you think she's back in Sunnydale and the vamps have replaced us?"

"No idea," she said with a shrug. "And no Spanish Inquisition, thank you very much. I'm only trying to guess what might have happened," she told him indignantly. "I don't think the vampires souls or essences, I suppose, have arrived home. I think they've either been displaced, y'know, moved onto another plane like a sorta limbo, or they've moved onto the next dimension, inhabiting the next Willow and Xander. If that makes sense."

"Yeah, I think it does," he replied. "Not to a normal person, but with us? Yeah, I guess it would work. So Vamp Xander could be in Traffic Cop Xander? Nice."

"I suppose," Willow said. "There are so many infinite dimensions out there. It's like a big domino set, or-or eggs in eggcups. It's like you take an egg out of a cup and put it into the next one and remove the egg from that and do the same and so on. Eventually, I suppose two replacements would land in Sunnydale, but that could take months, even years," she explained.

"Hey, I listened to all of that and didn't feel hungry once. Yay, for vampire metabolism," he said with a smile, coming to a stop in front of a familiar, tall wall. "This is it," he told her, looking it up and down. "This is where our story started."

Willow knelt, running her fingers across the brick, examining the wall and the surrounding sidewalk for fragments of slime or any kind of mark that Xander might have left when he arrived. Some scorch marks adorned the sidewalk, but other than that, there seemed very little evidence that he had even been there at all, and certainly nothing that would help them get back. Just a few minutes earlier, slight rain had started to come down which was now turning into a major storm by Sunnydale standards, making water run through the streets like mini-rivers, washing the roads and taking any content down the storm drains.

"Anything yet?" Xander asked.

"Nope," she replied. "The cupboard's bare. Not a sign of anything distinctly oozy. Looks like the rain would've taken it all away by now anyway."

Standing again, Willow gasped a little. The cat suit she was wearing was so binding, especially around her waist, but then she figured that vampires didn't need to draw breath, so it was probably designed to be sexy more than functional. Xander had started to notice, too. His eyes kept darting in different directions whenever he attempted to look at her, and there was a part of her that was enjoying that response in him after all the years he'd spent thinking of her as his guy friend who knew about girl stuff.

She wished she could stay in the dimension with him and enjoy having no responsibilities, to just be with him with no thoughts of consequences. But then she started thinking of Oz, of her friends, and her new college life and having to give them all up. Willow was sure she'd miss Oz. Well, for as long as it took for her to become her doppelganger completely, anyway. She'd miss the way he smiled at her, and the way they were just the right height for each other, and that her head fitted perfectly on his shoulder when they slept. She'd miss the way, when he sang on stage with the band, it was like he was singing to her, like she was the only person in the room with him.

Then there was college. She loved the fact that everybody was there to learn, and by choice. They hadn't been forced into attending by some government rule that said that schools were required to educate every minor under the legal age of consent, or by parents who claimed it was better for their child to get an education so they could get a better job when they were older.

Ever since she could remember, Willow couldn't wait to grow up and explore the world and the depths of her knowledge, to learn thousands of new things a day. Xander never had shared her thirst for knowledge, but perhaps that was why he was more prepared to give up everything. If his car hadn't broken down in Oxnard, then he would probably still be travelling the country. Maybe he'd even be in another country by now, doing nothing except any work he needed to pay his way. His friends were the only things important enough to him to go back for when he had no job or responsibilities that tied him to Sunnydale. His family were certainly the last people on his mind, especially after they'd moved him into the basement without his knowledge, and Willow could hardly blame him for that. He had freedom here that he hadn't known in his own world, and that was a powerful thing. She considered the fact that she was his best friend, so, barring Giles, Buffy, Oz and some of the others, he pretty much had his whole life in this warped dimension. In his case, being a vampire probably didn't seem all that different from being human. It just meant getting out of bed earlier.

Willow wasn't prepared to give up everything just yet, just when it was all beginning for her. They both were at different ends of the spectrum now, not like in High School when everybody had the same classes to go to and the same homework to do. Now she had moved onwards and his life had just stalled, and she was sorry for that, because he deserved so much more. Freedom from the pressures of getting on with his life and making something of himself must be a pretty coveted prize to someone who was scared to death of failing, and that was the one thing that seemed to have landed in his lap here.

"So I guess this means we're only left with one option, huh?" Xander asked sombrely, shaking her from her thoughts.

"Guess so," she said with a nervous smile.

"What do you think our chances are?" he asked.

"Fifty fifty," she relied. "Either we're whisked back to Sunnydale or…"

"There's that 'or' again," he said miserably. "I'm well aware of the significance of the 'or'. What the 'or' means is that we're wiped from existence all together. I still can't believe that after everything we've been through, every big scary thing we've faced, we bow out like this." He looked at her sadly. "It's weird, Will, but I still keep thinking a portal's going to open up any minute, just over by the wall or in the street and Buffy's going step out and shout 'jump in, we're taking you home'. But I guess it doesn't look like the cavalry's going to come anytime soon."

"We could find the demon again," Willow offered, "but we don't know if it even exists in this dimension," she told him. "We could wait for years for another to re-appear."

Xander shook his head, the decision more or less made. "There's probably some stakes still lying around outside The Bronze," he said quickly, starting back to where they had come from, his pace quick and determined.

"Does…this mean you wanna come back home?" she asked hopefully, almost running to catch up with him in the dark street with concern in her eyes. "I thought you liked it here."

He turned to look at her with dark eyes. "I could definitely get to like living in this world," he told her. "I really could…but…I don't know. 'Vampire' was never really a career option I was keen to take up before this. And now I've experienced what it could be like, perhaps I'd like the opportunity to choose once again." His eyes met hers then, gazing at her with trepidation. "Are you sure you wouldn't stay if I asked?"

"Xander, I'd do nearly anything for you," she told him honestly, the rain beating down on them, soaking them through. "But I can't just throw away what I have back home."

He smiled sadly, lowering his eyes away from hers so she couldn't see what they held. "There was a time when you would do absolutely anything for me."

Her cheeks reddened, a blush creeping up from her neck as her head lowered, her hands fidgeting nervously. "Well…" she started.

"When I broke my arm," he said coyly, a reminiscent smile on his face as they arrived back outside of the Bronze, stopping in front of the garbage cans and the pile of Harley the wind was about to carry away. "You carried my bag all the way to school from my house, a full fifteen blocks away."

"Times have changed, and this isn't just a book bag we're talking about here. It's my life," she said, her voice rising seemingly of its own accord, as she grew more frustrated. "I have too much to lose now," she told him angrily. "Can't you see I'm entering a new chapter in my life? I want to live it, and I want to enjoy it. I thought you'd understand!"

"I do," he told her. "But you don't seem to get that it's a scary time for me too…" his voice lowered, his eyes lowering. "But it's one that I want to see through with you."

Willow wondered why, after all the times he'd broken her heart in the past, Xander Harris could still pull her out of a bad mood quicker than anyone else she had ever met. All it took was a look, a smile, or a few words that made her feel like she'd melt, and she was thawed. "You sure?" she asked with a smile, the arm that was next to his nudging lightly. "You wouldn't rather wait until sexy vamp Willow reappears?" Her smile faltered as she grew serious. "Because she can give you something that I don't think I ever can."

"She's not you," he said, shaking his head. "Well, she is you, obviously. I mean, the face is a dead give-away, which is kinda ironic when you think about it with her being dead and all…" he trailed off, his eyes meeting hers again. "But she's not the one that I want," he told her passionately. "I need laughy, smiley Willow. The one who knows the table of elements by heart, and not the entire back catalogue of 'Chainsaw Digest'."

His eyes flickered around their surroundings, eventually settling on a pile of stakes that had been dropped at the entrance of the club, almost calling to him in the night air. "If this doesn't work," he told her, raising a hand to rest on her cheek, wet from the rain and cold from the wind. "If we do just end up being some bizarre kind of become space dust…I'd rather be safely floating in the atmosphere with your flecks by my side than risk never seeing you again."

"Oh, Xander…" she said quietly in a trembling voice, her eyes shining with tears that were barely visible in the rain the poured down at them, her hand coming to his where it lay on her cheek.

Willow was sure that given the option, Xander would have chosen to remain in this dimension without her, even thought the thought scared her more than she'd ever admit. There was a certain attraction in having no responsibilities, plus he'd have the full attention of her Mistress of Pain counterpart here. Although she wasn't willing to give up everything she had to stay here, there was still that part of her that was in love with him, always would be, whether she liked it or not, and she hated the fact that he felt like there was nothing to go back to.

Of course, her vampire self was probably a bigger attraction to him, and she couldn't blame him for getting a little hot under the collar for her. When she had met her supernatural double, her initial impression was that the vampire was everything she wasn't. Strong, confident, sexy…plus, she had managed to hook Xander within a day, something that had taken her normal geeky self more than a few years to achieve. Back then, she been jealous of what the doppelganger had achieved, and proud at the same time, so much so that she wasn't quite sure which emotion was stronger. She was pretty sure it was the jealousy. She had reminded herself at the time though that she was only jealous of herself and what she could be if she respected herself a little more.

"Of course," he said with a grin, pulling away and breaking the intimate moment. "If that leather outfit takes a trip back through time and space with us, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

"Hey!" she admonished, tapping his arm playfully, the smile she wore belying her seriousness. She was caught off guard when she looked at his face, though. It still held a smile, a smile that seemed like it was for her only, but his eyes were sad. Instead of looking away when her eyes met his – a habit he sometimes had, like he thought that his eyes would give away his inner most secrets – he simply returned it with eyes that had always been like pools of hot chocolate, something she single-handedly blamed for the sugar depravation that she was sure was making her knees go weak and her mind go blank. That was the only answer she could come up with for it – the only thing she was willing to consider, anyway.

"The wet look suits you," Xander said slowly, his eyes refusing to budge from hers, afraid that if he couldn't see her she'd disappear.

"You too," she returned, bringing a hand to his chest and letting her fingers slowly trail across the soaked material of his vest, the surprisingly hard chest underneath sending shivers down her spine that were definitely not because of the cold weather. "I'll do you a deal," she told him mischievously, "If I bring the suit back with me, you bring your Speedos out of the drawer."

"We'll look a pretty odd couple walking down the street," he said with a grin. "But okay."

"You mean you think we'll walk down the street together again?" she asked hopefully.

"If you think we will," he told her, "then I'll be glad when that first piece of gum sticks to my shoe."

His eyes returned to the pile of fatal wooden sticks and, with another look at Willow, started for them. It was only a few quick strides, and there they were, sitting at his feet, each of them begging to be used. He knelt and sifted through them, deciding that not just ANY stake was going to be put through him or his best friend, eventually settling for two that looked like they had been whittled precisely in a nice mahogany wood, figuring that sharper had to be better when it came to staking yourself.

He held them both upright as he crossed the alley back to where Willow was waiting, the tips pointing towards the sky, making him look to the casual observer like he'd never held one before, even though that couldn't have been further from the truth. The stake had become a familiar weapon to both of them during their time, but using it on themselves had never been an option before, even if it was something Xander had nightmares about ever since he'd had to stake Jesse.

Watching him hold the weapons of choice like a novice, Willow thought Xander had an air of innocence about him, something she hadn't seen since Buffy had come into their lives. She realised she missed that about him. She loved who he was becoming, but the cynicism and critical nature he had now made her miss naïve, Snoopy-dancing Xander.

"Guess this is it, then," Xander said morbidly, looking down at the stakes like they were foreign objects, inwardly pleading for her to take them and do what he felt so afraid to. He didn't want the responsibility of ending his own life, and he couldn't bear the thought of ending hers.

"No," she said thoughtfully, her eyes lighting up, a sure sign that something was formulating in her head. "I've got an idea! We could decapitate ourselves," she told him brightly. With his glare on her, she shrunk away, the smile turning into a frown. "Well, I didn't say it was a good one," she said defensively. "Okay, we could wait for the sun to come up," she suggested. "You know, that's a good idea. Let's wait for the sun to come up. It'll be all bright and orangey. Kinda romantic."

"Yeah, but you won't be able to enjoy it, Will," he pointed out gently. "You'll be the Human Torch, remember?" he said. "Anyway, I prefer it this way. When I go – well, for real - I'd rather be buried than cremated. Suppose I just don't like the thought of being still alive when the fires are licking at my footsies."

"It's a no win situation," she said miserably. "Either that or buried alive."

"I'd choose buried alive," he informed her. "There's more chance that I could claw my way out, y'know? Or maybe use some kind of sharpened cufflinks," he grinned, lifting his arms and waving his wrists at her.

The grin quickly faltered when he saw the tears welling in her eyes, something not easily distinguishable in the current weather they were experiencing. But he knew. He closed the short distance between them, wrapping his arms around her tightly and feeling her respond, their familiarity something that nothing could erase from memory.

"I keep telling myself it's not real," she sniffed. "That we aren't going to really end up…" she looked up at him sadly. "…That we'll come out the other side…"

"Hey, I'm sorry, okay?" he told her. "I'll quit joking around."

"Is that even possible?" she asked, a ghost of a smile on her face and a playful glint in her eyes.

He grinned back, dropping the stakes on the ground with a loud clatter. "Let's just get this over with, okay?" he whispered. "We'll just go with the sunlight idea. You know, walk hand in hand into the dawn."

"That's so romantic," she said, sniffing back the tears that threatened to keep on falling. "Well, you know, it would be if we weren't about to burst into flames, I mean. Sort of ruins the moment." She wiped at her eyes, sighing loudly as he released her, not completely, but enough for her to be able to look at him fully. "It seemed a lot less…well…messy for Romeo and Juliet."

"Didn't they poison each other?" he asked, confused. "You know, that would've been a good movie if it hadn't been in some kind of made up language."

"It wasn't a made up language, Xander," she told him. "That's Olde Worlde English, uh, Englishy. Don't you remember from English class?" she asked.

"Nah," he said, shaking his head. "But I do remember the one about the guy seeing a dagger, though. Man, they must've been drinking some weird stuff in Olde Worlde Englandy. Probably grog, or mead, or some other odd-sounding beverage."

"Romeo and Juliet died to show the world how much they cared about each other," she informed him. "Juliet faked her own death with a temporary poison thing, but Romeo found her and thought she really died, and took his own life to be reunited with her in the afterlife." She tilted her head pensively. "It's kinda like us really if you think about it," she said. "I mean, we're going to…" She didn't even complete the sentence before the tears had started to fall again.

She felt the strength of Xander's arms around her, circling her body and allowing herself to nestle there, wishing that all of this would just go away. She knew that she was scared, that she was terrified of what could happen to them if this plan failed. But she knew he felt the same. He had always done his best to stop her from being sad, or worried, or scared. Throughout all of this, he'd been there for her, though, and she appreciated that more than she'd ever be able to tell him. She hoped that he felt at least a little reassurance from her presence, from her arms that held him so tightly around his waist, because while he stayed strong for her, this was the only thing she had to give back.

"Vampires never wear wristwatches," Xander said suddenly, surprising her out of her thoughts. "You ever notice that?"

"No…" she sniffed, pulling out of his arms, wiping her tears away with the sleeve of her outfit feeling the harsh leather sleeve against her soft skin, which she noticed seemed to be growing paler by the minute. "I guess not."

"I thought they might," he said curiously. "Or, you know, have some kind of blank clock face with 'Daylight' at the top and a hand slowly ticking towards it," he explained.

"Like that one you have for mealtimes?"

"Hey, that's a legitimate piece of equipment," he said defensively. "But seriously, though, how do they know?" he asked. "It's not like they can just stick a hand out of the window and think 'wow, better stay in now, and while I'm at it I'll light this cigar with my finger'. They have to know somehow," he continued, hoping somehow that the words that were falling out of his mouth would somehow ease the tension and frustration he knew they were both feeling, hoping that something familiar like babbling would remedy her anxiety, not to mention his own.

"Maybe they just know," she suggested, drawing in a breath that she didn't whether she needed or just to prove she still could, wiping at her eyes stubbornly. "Maybe it's just like a sense they have. I mean, they are like animals," she told him. "What about you?" she asked. "Have you got the super hearing, or the amplified sense of smell yet?" She wrinkled her face. "Pee-eew," she said. "That's something I do not need."

"Yeah, I've had this odour of rotting flesh coupled with freshly baked bread in my nose ever since we came back around the corner," he told her, realising when he saw the sadness and fear in her eyes that his idea of trying to take her mind off what was happening was currently not working.

He reached up to her face, rubbing softly at the area just below her eyes with his thumbs, her skin soft and cold and he could have sworn he felt her breath hitch, but maybe that was just wishful thinking. "You know what I would do if I had one of those watches?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'd wind the hand right round to 'Daylight', stop the rain, bring on the sun, just to get this over with and to stop you feeling like this," he told her, firmly and seriously. "I would do anything to stop you crying."

She allowed him a small smile, one that was tired and unhappy, but still a smile. "Really?" she asked.

He grinned, "Well, almost anything," he told her. "I mean, I'd never make out with Spike or anything, I have my limits, but…yeah," he told her. "I'm sorry that you didn't already know that."

"I kinda did," she told him, "Not the Spike thing because, ew, gross…I just wanted to hear you say it."

---

Sheltering in the doorway of the back entrance to the Bronze, Willow and Xander sat together waiting for the storm to break and for the sun to come up, in no particular order. They huddled together underneath the canopy over the door, keeping dry, but not for warmth. It turned out one of the advantages to being a vampire was not feeling the cold, but it did bring up the question of whether or not they'd get the flu when and if they did return to their own world. Huddling together, their arms around one another, it somehow helped the overwhelming sense of gloom they felt was far worse. It didn't stop it – if anything it had increased every minute they were left in limbo – but it made it a little easier to stand.

"…And so Montague and Capulet joined hands and vowed never to be enemies again in remembrance of their dead children," Willow finished with a self-satisfied smile. "The end."

"Maybe it was just Mr. Michaelson reading it in that station announcer voice of his," Xander told her, "but I preferred it the way you tell it. Still didn't understand it, though."

"What more do you want, Xander?" she asked him irritably, frustration at their situation coming out as anger. "Even cliftnotes put more detail into that story than I just did!"

"Moving pictures," he said with a shrug. "TV has killed my imagination. I'll rent the movie again when we get back, promise." He looked out at the still-falling rain with a frown. "At least they had that famous Californian sun we've all heard so much about, although it looks like it isn't going to appear here anytime soon."

"Actually they were Italian," she informed him. "Shakespeare set the play in Verona, originally."

"Italy's still a hotspot though, right?" he asked. "I mean, in all of those Mob movies you never see the Godfather looking under-tanned," he noted. He shook his head, a grimace on his face. "What if the sun doesn't come out?" he said suddenly. "Vampires can still walk on a cloudy day, can't they?"

"As long it's not direct sunlight, yeah."

"So what do we do?" he asked, feeling a panic rise in his chest. "What if we have to wait another day? What if this dimension is an eternal night kinda deal? Remember when we saw that Al Pacino movie? The one where he's in Alaska and it's always daylight and he can't sleep? What if it's like that here? Only, you know, in reverse."

"Xander, calm down…" she said soothingly, rubbing his arm.

He wasn't taking much notice of her now, though. He had already spotted the two stakes he had previously chosen for their demise lying on the ground a few feet away, and before she could stop him he was on his feet and picking them up. Fisting them both, he quickly jogged back to her, dashing under the canopy that was their refuge.

"I'm tired of waiting for the sun to put his hat on," he said harshly, thrusting one of the stakes for her to take. "I say we end this now!"

Willow was tired, too. Tired of the rain, and tired of the waiting, and tired of the fear that she might be wrong and that they might end up really, really dead, instead of undead. Perhaps that's why she stood, brushing any loose bits of garbage that drifted into their hiding place off her leather outfit, and took the stake tentatively.

She knew she felt the same way he did. She was worried that the longer they waited, the more chance there was of her wanting to remain in this world as her soul slowly left her body and flowed away with the rain down the storm drains. She figured that she was okay for now, that the dark thoughts she was having were okay, because vampires – real vampires – weren't crazy enough to take their own lives.

She tilted her head as she grasped it tighter in her palm, the feeling of the wood against her skin strangely familiar and reassuring. "I suppose it's as good a way as any," she said. "So how do you wanna do this?" she asked. "Who goes first?"

"This isn't Russian Roulette, Will," he told her. "I thought we could, y'know, do each other," he suggested. "I mean, biology another of my growing list of not-very-strong points. I don't think I could find my heart, let alone stab myself through it with a sharp wooden object."

"And you think that I could?" she asked with wide eyes. "You know, Giles once told me of this young Slayer that…" she trailed off. "Okay, possibly not the time for stories…"

And then, just as quickly as it seemed to Xander that this strong and confident Willow had appeared while he had been away in Oxnard, the shy, bashful version shone through as she lowered her head, eyes downcast for a minute. "Harder than stabbing myself…" she said quietly, her voice carrying in the wind. "…Would be stabbing you," she told him truthfully, her eyes big as she looked back up at him, emotion raging in the greenness. "I mean, at least I wouldn't see me doing it. Looking at me with my big, judgey eyes…" she ran a hand along one of the lapels of his jacket. "…But I could stand it a lot more than I could stand doing it to you."

Xander knew that the emotion of the situation was overwhelming her. How could it not? She probably never thought that she would have to do something like this in her whole life, but he wasn't so sure. He had already slain one of his best friends this lifetime, staked Jesse, although if that girl hadn't pushed past him, he wasn't sure he could have gone through with it. He figured that this time should be easier, right? Second time around and all that? Since Jesse, he had hardly been lazy when it came to vanquishing demons and killing vampires, as well as the people they had been before the creatures had taken over their bodies. He felt he had grown tougher inside and more able to make those kind of decisions.

The trick to it, Giles had once told him, was to remember that the person staring back at you was just a demon wearing their victim's skin. This time it wasn't that clear-cut. The person standing in front of him, currently a vampire or not, was still Willow. His Willow from their own world. To kill her meant he would be dispatching the whole enchilada, with added soul.

He caught the hand that still touched the leather of his jacket and held it in his firmly. "Willow, in case we don't make it…" he started in a broken voice.

"I thought you said you had faith in me!" Willow spluttered nervously. "You-you said—"

"Just listen to me, alright!" Xander snapped suddenly. "This is hard enough for me to say as it is and, for the record, I could not have more faith in anyone right now." He paused, closing his eyes briefly as he put his head down, still holding her hand in his. He opened his eyes again slowly bringing them up to rest on her face, his expression serious, making sure that if this was the last time they'd see each other, speak to each other, he wanted her to know…well, everything.

He guessed she knew that whatever was coming was serious, because if he wasn't joking around…it was time to be scared. He had made it clear that she needed to be quiet now, which in itself was probably a mystery. In all of the years they had known each other, he had never said that to her, never asked her to shush like her parents often had, or to just shut up, like his parents had told him. Well, perhaps once he had told her to conserve energy when she had been ill, or back in school when she gave him a detailed analysis of why Superman couldn't exist. Indeed, he still had the original flip charts to prove it.

He had always loved the sound of her voice. The strong yet vulnerable tones, and the way they made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He loved hearing her theories on anything from the mysteries of the universe to why toast always lands butter side up when dropped. One mark of his love for her, the intensity of his feelings, was the fact that he could hear it everywhere at times, sometimes on purpose and sometimes when he least wanted to. Someone completely different would be talking to him, but it would be Willow's voice they would be speaking in, which was kinda weird at times, especially when it was Principal Snyder giving him a hard time about one thing or another, but he had gotten used to it.

He noticed that they had also started speaking like each other at different times. It wouldn't be anything recognisable to the untrained eye of someone who wasn't as well-versed in their Willow/Xander studies, but Willow would say something sharp and witty that made Xander especially proud, or he would recite something in Science class that he had heard her say before, word for word, that made her grin in that cute way she had. Phrases were used between them that couldn't be determined how they originated, words made up that only they knew the meanings of, like speaking in a code, and he loved that about them and their friendship. He had to make a point to tell her that, if they ever made it out of this freaky world.

"In case we don't make it," he repeated firmly, his voice unwilling to brook any argument from her. "I just want you to know that I'm glad to have spent my life with you," he told her emotionally. "From the moment we met, right up to the moment we part, whenever that is, I'm glad that it's you in this position and nobody else because it wouldn't have meant nearly as much, and wouldn't be half as hard. I'd rather die with you than before you, because there is no way that I could bear to live in a world without you in it. And I mean the real you, not some evil wannabe you."

Willow listened to every word he was saying with a wishful ear. She wished that he had said this a long time ago, at some time when they weren't possibly about to become two piles of dust on the cold and wet sidewalk outside of the Bronze.

So much of her time had been spent pining, longing, hoping for him to notice her as more than Willow, his best bud. She had wanted him to see her as someone more than that, someone who he could have been attracted to, could have felt that spark with. She'd wanted him to feel like this when they were both single and available, when she felt like she would die if Xander Harris didn't love her back. Things could have been so different for them.

She felt different about her crush on him now. For a start, she knew it wasn't just a crush, she knew it went deeper than that, and she knew she would always feel like that. But she had moved on, realised that she had to do in order to keep her sanity intact. Oz was different to Xander, and that's what she needed. Oz was caring and thoughtful, while Xander had been oblivious to her feelings for all those years.

But every feeling she had still came back to him in some way or another. A strong connection like the one they shared bound them together, and couldn't be eradicated by other people in their lives, or drifting a little further away from each other.

It may have sounded crazy, but sometimes…sometimes she could almost swear that when she was alone…he was there, talking to her. Wherever she may be, whether it was on vacation with her family, walking through the school halls, or even crying in the girl's bathroom, she would see him standing in the corner somewhere quietly. He would say something funny that would make her laugh out loud, or something romantic that made her feel like her knees would buckle, and then would come the disappointing realisation that she had been dreaming it all. This could be the last time for all that, though.

In that instant, she rushed forward without any of the awkward hesitation she was so used to in herself, without thinking. She had a hand on either side of his face, and she was kissing him before she knew it, before she could have stopped herself. Her skin had been starting to feel numb as she became less and less able to feel the climate in her vampire state, but now it felt like she was on fire. Her lips were pressed against his in the most crushing but fulfilling kiss she had ever experienced.

She could feel the surprise in his lips, the way he tensed suddenly as she had launched herself at him. But when he responded, and she felt his arms wrap around her body tightly and possessively she felt her stomach flip in the most delicious way.

This kiss was everything she had ever wanted a kiss to be. It was the stuff romance novels were written about, what movies had promised of love and romance and passion. It wasn't that she hadn't felt anything when she kissed Oz, because he was sweet and funny and cute, and she loved kissing him because it was nice and made her feel happy and left her with a smile on her face when she went to sleep at night. But this was off the charts for her. The very situation she was in dictated that her feelings would never reach this level again. It was powerful and instinctual and what she felt the most was that this kiss was coming from her, not from her vampire self.

Xander wasn't quite sure what was happening at first. One second he was baring his soul, telling her everything he thought he never would, and the next thing he knew she was all he could taste. Her lips were hard against his, cold from the weather and the lack of blood pumping around her body from her non-beating heart, but her hands that were touching his skin made it worthwhile.

He hadn't been expecting it, because, after all, she was the sensible one. Other than their slip up earlier when they first realised they were together in this world, she had been the one who was keeping them on track and away from the smooching, which was a good thing, because the more time they were spending here without the complexities of their normal lives, the harder he was finding it to keep their relationship in the strictly-friends realm.

His arms quickly came around her waist tightly, pulling her to him, closer and closer until he thought they would fall over but he felt the hard surface of the doorway they had been sheltering in against his back so he didn't worry about that. He had never known anything like this, something so full of everything he was feeling, and everything he didn't know she still felt. He had felt lust before, all of those times in the janitor's closet with Cordelia. He had felt passion before, when he had encountered Faith that night. And he had felt something he thought he was love when Buffy came into their lives. But all of that…it was nothing compared to what he felt now.

Her mouth opened beneath his, warm and inviting, and her hands ran along his shoulders, working their way around his neck to wind her fingers in the hair at the nape of it. His fingers gripped at her hips, digging into the leather and the tiny bit of skin that was on show, and he felt her sigh into his mouth. His tongue met hers, and he felt a tingle run down his spine at the contact, deepening the kiss and wishing it would never end.

Willow leaned into him, their bodies touching everywhere, separated only by the clothing they both wore, and she felt it was all just a blur of arms and hands and legs and lips and tongues. Not that she was complaining. She couldn't keep a thought in her head for long enough to even muster up anything that would resemble a complaint.

She didn't know if it was the kiss, or if it was the impending death situation, or if it was just him…or maybe it was a combination of all three…but she wanted to remember every single moment of their time together right now. She tried to get her brain into gear for long enough to run through everything they had been through, frightened in case anything was left out.

But all she could see was the moment they found themselves in now. All she could see was herself in Xander's arms, and that was all that mattered.

They had lived more in 19 years than most people had or would ever do, and they did every bit of it together. A quick 'see you around' didn't really seem appropriate. And if this was going to be the last moments they lived in this or any other world, they were going to make them count. They were going to do what they wished they had done in life, even if they were technically dead in these bodies. If this was really going to be it for them, the last things they wanted to remember were each other.

Xander reluctantly pulled away, his arms still wrapped around her waist, taking in large gulps of air he wasn't sure whether he needed or if it was just a vain attempt to stop the world from spinning, something he had felt start as soon as their lips had met. "It's weird that when I finally get something…" he said quietly, his tone sad, "…something that I'll remember for the rest of my life…my life could be over in a few minutes," he told her soberly. "They'll be no time left to relive it."

Holding back tears that were desperate to spill for what felt like the hundredth time that night, she kissed him again, this time soft and sweet and brief. "Wherever we are," she told him seriously, "I'll remember this forever," she said. "It'll never leave me, Xander…no matter where I go, it'll always be a part of me."

He held her for a moment longer, not wanting to put off the inevitable any longer than he had to, if only to stop her from looking so sad than anything else. The stakes that they had been holding previous to their romantic encounter had fallen to the ground while they had been so engrossed in each other, and he bent to pick them up, handing one to Willow and fisting the other tightly.

"So, I guess it's pointy sticks at zero paces time," he said ominously. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Nope," she told him, a tight, nervous smile on her face. "You?"

"Not in the least," he replied.

His hand came up to lightly graze her cheek as he leaned forward and placed a kiss on her lips, tasting salt from the tears that were now falling from her eyes unknown. He reached out to take her free hand and intertwined his fingers with hers tightly as their eyes locked together, each of them instinctively bringing their stakes up to chest-level, the tips aimed directly at the fatal spot beneath their breasts, a symmetrical action that looked oddly sweet, in spite of what they were about to do.

"Bye, Will," he said gently.

"Goodbye, Xander," she whispered back.

Looking into each other's eyes, they saw their entire lives before them. It was like a time bubble surrounding them that was playing back the years, rewinding time, from their first meeting at Kindergarten through to high school. The shared memories of meeting Buffy and the numerous battles they had undertaken over the years. The various people that had come in and out of their lives, the demons they had battled, the heartbreaks and happiness they had gone through and shared. All the conversations they'd shared over the years, all the trouble they had gotten into and dug themselves out of. There was every moment that had meant everything, and every moment that hadn't

With a squeeze of the entwined hands that she wasn't sure was her doing or his, they knew the time had come. They both closed their eyes as she clung onto his hand with everything she was worth as they each thrust forward with a lethal hand, their eyes opening at the exact same moment to watch the other's diminishing forms.

The stakes penetrated their bodies simultaneously. First, the wooden objects broke skin, then muscle, and then that final internal organ that had never seemed so vital until now. It was like they could each feel every single grain imprinted on the weapons, could feel every splinter puncturing their skins, and their eyes opened at the exact same moment to watch the other's quickly diminishing forms.

Xander felt Willow's hand suddenly pull out of his grasp, and he desperately and blindly grabbed for her again, his panic overwhelming when he couldn't feel her skin on his. But before he could even move his arm, her hand was gone, crumbling away into the night air as her smaller form fell foul of the deadly wound first, the rest of her arm next. His eyes widened in horror as they darted from her terrified expression to her disintegrating body, unaware that his own body was following the same path until the pain tore through his entire being and soul.

He hadn't noticed until now that he was screaming, or that she was screaming, too. But now their agonising screams seemed like an ungodly noise as their bodies shattered before the others very eyes, the sound seemingly growing louder as their bodies disappeared, instead of lessening. The screams seemed louder than anything they had ever heard being emitted from any normal vampire they had witnessed being dusted in the past, but maybe that was just because it was their own pain instead of someone else's. Vampires were soulless creatures whose emotions were already numbed when the Slayer or a Slayerette dispatched them, but Willow and Xander had no such luxury.

Any passer-by on the streets of Sunnydale that night - any passer-by foolish enough to be venturing out past curfew, anyway - would have seen a strange sight.

Two humans standing in the middle of the street, apparently Goths if judged by their appearances, who were pointing thick, sharpened, wooden sticks at each other's chests. It would have looked like they were going to kill each other, although the expressions on their faces pointed to the extreme opposite, and although the bodies were soon gone, two strange green outlines remained.

The bright light would have blinded the passer-by as the shapes disappeared into thin air. They would have been surprised that the rain that had been falling and drenching the pair, at that exact moment when their bodies were no more, would have strangely stopped, only to be replaced by a cool winter wind. The breeze was gentle, but forceful enough to whip the amalgamated pile of dust that was Willow and Xander into the night air where the remains of the vampire lovers would drift endlessly together, joined with one another, for the rest of time.

---

Xander felt his body connect to the ground with a small bump as he landed back in the cemetery, finding himself in the exact same spot from whence he left. He opened his eyes and a wave of relief, as well as sweat, washed over him as he realised he was still alive. Or existing, at least, in some capacity. He touched his face, then his arms, then his torso, making sure everything was still there, and that nothing had been left behind in the other dimension. He suddenly had a vision of being left without some vital part of his body that he'd miss more than he'd care to admit to anyone, and breathed a sigh of relief when everything seemed to be in place.

That's when he looked up, something catching his eye in the atmosphere a few inches above him. He saw a large green mass, and began to panic again. It seemed to form into a shape…a human-shaped shape, he thought vaguely, as the shape plummeted down and landed squarely on top of him. A stream of red hair filled his face, hindering his breathing, and he blew it away from his nostrils and mouth, the thought of being suffocated not such an attractive prospect after what he had just experienced, but he did manage to catch the scent of its owner.

It was Willow.

"Wssshaaarrgh!" she screamed loudly as she awoke from the effects of the magic.

"Aawwlllitttheplees," mumbled Xander from beneath another curtain of hair that covered his face.

"Oh, God!" Willow said aloud, not at all comfortable where she had landed and terrified at the voices she was hearing on top of that. "What is that?" she questioned herself. "Where am I?"

Xander once more blew the hair away from his mouth, at least for long enough to get his words out. "Will, little help please?"

Willow looked around, relieved that they were both okay and that he was nearby, some of the panic dispelled. "Xander, is that you?" she asked. "Where—?"

"Under you," he replied, interrupting her quickly.

"Oh," she said to herself, the notion making sense in her head, "So that's what's sticking in my…" she trailed off, suddenly nervous and a blush creeping across her cheeks. "I should move, shouldn't I?"

"I would like that," he replied dryly. "Not that I'm complaining, but neither of us are the same weight we once were in Kindergarten," he said as she rolled away from him, sitting cross-legged on the grass next to him.

"Phew," he said, sitting up and taking deep breaths full of the polluted Sunnydale air. "Oxygen once more."

"Hey, last week you said I had lost weight!" she snapped suddenly, only just realising what he said, but forgiving herself for the delayed reaction due to what they had both just been through. "Did I have anything to eat back there?" she asked thoughtfully, suddenly worried as her hands came to her hips, checking for any excess baggage she was carrying from the trip. "I wonder how much human flesh adds to the hips," she wondered aloud. "I mean, blood alone must be pumped with calories. It's okay for the vampires, with the whole slim bodies for eternity and all, but…"

"Is this it? Are we back?" Xander asked. "I think we made it, Dorothy," he said with a grin slowly spreading across his face.

"Yeah, same old cemetery," Willow replied, looking around the strangely comforting landscape with the same mixture of mixed happiness and disbelief in her voice.

"Hey, how long do you think we've been gone?" he asked curiously. "A lot of these dimensions have weird time differences. We could have landed three weeks into the future, or even three years. We could even have arrived back before we left."

"Its 2am!" she exclaimed with a yelp as she checked her wristwatch.

"Five hours? Is that it!" he said, weirdly disappointed. "Hey, was that dimension in Europe by any chance?"

"Oh, no," Willow said to herself miserably. "I missed Oz's gig!"

"Aww," Xander moaned with a pout. "I wanted to be Future Man and tell amazing stories of the past."

"Well, I'm sure some people have been asleep for five hours, you could wake them up and tell them all about it," Willow suggested with a smile.

He smiled back at her, but he didn't reply. Instead, he leant back and rested his hands on the hard dirt, propping himself up as he looked up at the stars. A moment later, he was lying on his back, his body tired and weary and wanting nothing more than to rest for at least a week.

He didn't have to wait long before Willow had joined him, shuffling herself and lying down beside him, her breathing a good sound for him to hear, something he didn't realise he'd missed so much when they were in the other place. He knew what conversation was coming, but he also didn't want to be the one who started it. For now, it was a perfect moment, looking up at the stars with his best friend, and it was one that he wanted to enjoy.

They were both relieved that they had made it back in one piece, that they were still in the land of the living, but he wasn't quite sure they were ready to address the issues that had made themselves apparent during their jaunt to another world. The kisses and the feelings shared…they would always mean the world to Xander, and he suspected she felt the same way, but now wasn't the time to deal with that. Perhaps an unspoken bond was better until a time came when they could deal with their feelings in a different way.

"You still wanna be some kind of super hero?" Willow asked, breaking the silence and interrupting his contemplation.

"Nah," he told her, turning his head to look at her, grateful for the redness of her cheeks against the green on the lawn they were lying upon. "I think I'll hang up my cape and underpants for good this time," he said thoughtfully. "Being super has two edges to it. I'm pretty sure Buffy would relinquish her slayer powers in a second if she had the chance, and Oz has been trying to find a way to calm his inner Muttley ever since he found out about it. You seem okay with the whole witchy woman thing, though, right?" he asked.

"I love it," she told him honestly, a smile coming to her face. "There's so much to learn. It's a whole new world to me. I mean, sometimes, y'know, certain spells do pack quite a punch and I'm tempted just to say 'that's it', but then some big beastie will crawl out of its pit and Buffy needs me to work some kind of mojo again, and sometimes I wish that responsibility would fall to someone else, but that means that I'd go back to being research girl and official hostage again. Besides, I like it. It makes me feel special, and I've never felt like that before. It's so wonderful, and this year has been like everything just falling into place."

"I guess I have an enviable power after all," he said, that adorable half smile on his face as he pondered their differences. "The power of normal life," he told her. "I can do anything I want. I mean, I took off for a whole summer, and it still didn't matter."

Willow looked at him, their eyes meeting in the darkness with the stars above them. "It mattered to me," she told him honestly. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," he confessed. "But what I meant is… Everyone else is committed to fighting evil, they're tied to it in some way, but I can just walk away anytime I want."

Her eyes widened in concern. "But you won't, will you?" she asked worriedly.

"You'll have to do a lot more than unleash the fiery pits of hell in my backyard to get rid of me, Rosenberg," he told her with a smile.

Time seemed to stand still as they remained on the grass there, talking about everything they hadn't thought about in longer than they cared to mention. But, inevitably, Xander had to give in to his stomach that had been rumbling ever since they had been back in their other, and he commented that lying in a cemetery in the dead of the night without Slayer supervision probably wasn't the best idea.

Getting to his feet, he offered his hand and helped her to stand, perceptively noticing that the demon's slime was remarkably clean as he wiped the few traces of it he could find from his shirt, finding that grass and dirt were more prominent.

Willow grabbed the bag that was still lying on the grass in the same place she left it, shouldering it carefully with tired limbs. "So, no more Super Xander?" she asked. "Not even for the big Halloween party this year?"

"Nope," he replied. "I think it's time I laid my secret identity to rest."

"But I was gonna go as Super Girl," she told him with a grin.

"What about Oz?" Xander asked, feeling the joviality he had been feeling disappear as if it had just been staked. "What's he going as?"

"Oz?" she said. "Not really into the whole dress-up thing." They began walking, and she looked at him excitedly. "Ooh, hey, what about 'Bonnie and Clyde'?" she asked enthusiastically.

"Yeah," he said distractedly. "I think my Grandpa has some of those old suits from the thirties. We could be outlaws, fighting…well, the law. Giving in to our wild urges no matter who…" he trailed off, his hands in his pockets as he stopped walking, unable to handle not dealing with this any longer. "Willow, can we talk?"

She stopped just ahead of him when she realised she was walking alone, taking a deep breath as she started back to him with small steps. "I'm going to have to call Oz when I get home," she told him. "He'll be wondering why I wasn't at the gig." She reached him quicker than she wanted to, because she still didn't know if this was such a great idea, but that didn't stop her from reaching for his hand. "Not that there aren't other bands I like just as much as the 'Dingoes', you understand," she explained, her eyes conveying her meaning. "Some maybe even more so…but I'm supporting them right now and I don't think it would be fair if I started…"

"…Going to other gigs," he finished soberly.

"Not that I wouldn't want to," she said. "But maybe I like them. And someday I may like someone else more, but for now I want to be the groupie, no matter how enticing the melodies of the other groups are. Do you understand?"

He lowered his eyes from hers, his level of understanding rising. "Yeah."

"Good," she said, relieved. "Because I wasn't sure where to go with that analogy next. Don't wanna tie myself up in metaphors I can't get out of," she told him with a smile.

"The Dingoes are one of the best around, Will," he said sincerely. "I'd rather you be with them than anyone else whose music might hurt you…your eardrums…I mean," he amended quickly. He shrugged, waving his hand in the air. "Whatever. I can't think right now. My head's…" he trailed off as something caught his attention somewhere close by. "What's that noise?" he asked.

They looked around, listening for any signal as to where they were supposed to be looking. The strange sound, something that was akin to some sort of crying, seemed to be coming from the immediate area.

Xander carefully took in their surroundings, and moved slowly towards the partially demolished mausoleum, carefully pressing an ear to the cold stone wall. "What ever it is, it's inside here," he told her. "Where's the door?" he asked quickly.

"Pick one!" Willow told him, herself running through one of the holes Buffy had made earlier in the evening while fighting the demon.

Xander soon joined her, and they found themselves face to face to with Nancy Esposito again. The girl in front of them now, though, wasn't the strong, confident Nancy of the vampire dimension they had recently vacationed in, but the human they had known before.

This Nancy was a wreck. She was sitting in a corner of the crypt, hugging her knees to her chest and sobbing, mumbling incoherently. She wore a dark blue vest, and green cargo pants that were slightly tattered from the fight the vampire version of her had told them of, and Xander cursed himself for not realising what had happened sooner, for not hearing or seeing her in the mausoleum he had been lying behind since they had returned.

"This must be where she reappeared after we sent her back," Willow whispered to him.

"We have to get her home," Xander said, obviously concerned. He looked at Willow, who nodded her agreement, and he slowly started towards Nancy, carefully and tentatively. He stopped when he saw her eyes bulge at his approach, her face that was blotched from crying turning a deeper shade of red as she let out a scream.

"Stay away!" she yelled at him, trying in vain to hide herself further in the corner.

"Nancy," he said softly. "Hey, it's me, Xander, remember?" he said, bending down to her level and proffering his hand toward her.

"X-Xander?" she asked. "Good Xander or bad Xander?" she said suddenly, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Answer me, good or b-bad!?" she screamed at him, almost spitting in his face.

"Good," he replied with a brief smile. "Definitely good Xander," he told her. "Check with the Police, not so much as a parking ticket. Nothing to worry about, you're home now."

"Let me see your teeth!" Nancy asked urgently.

"Calm down," he said gently. "There's no need to see my…tughshhh…" Xander spluttered as Nancy thrust her hand into his mouth. She pulled up his top lip and examined his molars with curious eyes and probing fingers that weren't altogether comfortable.

Willow rushed over, standing between them to intervene. "Hey, stop that!" she yelled.

Xander was crouched in a very peculiar position; he sat on the cold, stone floor on his hands and knees with Nancy's finger running along his gums searching for signs of fangs. He saw Willow out of the corner of his eye trying to stop her, but Xander waved his hand in the air, gesturing to his friend just to let her be for a few minutes.

"You're clean," Nancy grumbled, moving away from him. "No fangs."

"Thanks," he said uncomfortably. "And not a cent exchanged hands. I'm definitely coming back to you for my monthly check-up."

"Now for you!" Nancy said suddenly, getting up and advancing towards Willow with the same outstretched finger still dripping with saliva.

Xander quickly intercepted the panicking girl, standing in front of Willow protectively. "I…don't believe that's necessary," he told Nancy. "I can vouch for her. She's with me. Known her seventeen years and she's never once tried to bite me," he jabbered nervously.

"Except for when I was a vampire a few hours ago," Willow added.

"But you're all better now," he whispered to her harshly, his eyes wide and jaw clenched. "Aren't you, Will?"

"Well," she began thoughtfully. "I think my vampire self also may have tried to get a bit of fang action last year," she told him. "Oh, and there were a couple of times back in kindergarten, so truthfully, I don't think—"

"Not helping here, Will," he told her in an urgent tone. "Now how about you just flash your pearly whites for the nice lady?" he suggested.

Willow rolled her eyes, before giving a false broad smile that felt incredibly silly, and she hoped Buffy wasn't out hiding in the bushes, watching them and having a good laugh at her expense. She realised that she hadn't smiled that much since Graduation Day, and it only seemed that she smiled like that – a real, wide, true smile - for Xander. Willow didn't like Nancy that much, and maybe it was because she reminded her of Cordelia. Another girl who was too worried about hair and shoes to be aware of what's going on around her, and another Cordelia wasn't what Xander needed right now. Perhaps he still hadn't got over their break-up, despite all he had said.

"You're okay," Nancy decided, conceding after a quick visual examination of Willow's teeth.

"Gee, thanks," Willow said, a sarcastic edge to her voice. "I was beginning to feel like a game show host for a minute there…"

"Ooof!" Xander said suddenly, feeling Nancy launch herself at him, her head on his chest as she began crying again. "Why do you girls have to keep doing that to me?" he wondered aloud. "And, woah, what strength I might add."

"Xandeeeey!" Nancy cried, weeping into his shirt. "Take me home!"

Xander put his arm around her, leading her out of the tomb. "Okay, time to hit they hay, then," he told her. "Say, would you like to come for a coffee tomorrow?" he asked. "Well, I guess it's today now…but we can talk about what happened back there, and what you definitely should not tell people if you want to stay on this side of that big asylum out near Ventura."

"Okay…" Nancy said, looking up at him and nodding slowly. "Sure."

"Hey, Will," Xander said, looking around for his best friend. "You coming?" he asked, watching her as she scraped a sample of the slime from the wall, picking up the last remnants of demon pieces and putting them in the sample jars she kept in her bag, just in case.

"Be along in a minute," she said, distracted by what she was doing. "I just need to take some more samples, and perhaps a couple of these horn bits and maybe some—"

"But the demon will still be in tiny pieces tomorrow," he protested. "Say, how about after I leave Nancy in bed…" his eyes widened and he suddenly felt very embarrassed under the glares he was receiving from both girls. "I mean, her bed…her bed…" he corrected quickly, before turning his attention back to the original conversation. "…We finally get to watch the sunrise together," he asked Willow. "Only, this time we'll be alive to see it through," he finished.

Willow smiled at him, shrugging her shoulders. "Seen one demon splashed all over the walls of a tomb, seen them all, I guess," she said, packing her samples away in her bag.

She headed out of the mausoleum as they started across the cemetery, heading for Nancy's dorm room. She ran to catch up, ducking her head and taking residence underneath Xander's free arm.

All three of them, a little worse for wear but feeling they had learnt something, ventured out into the cool morning air.

The End