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Part 2
Willow jumped as the doorbell sounded, then took a deep breath. It was okay. It wasn’t him. It WASN'T him. He wouldn’t knock. He would pound.
She stood up and walked to the door. Took a deep breath. Looked in the peep hole.
She let out a sigh of relief which quickly turned into a gasp of fright. Oz. It was Oz. What did he want?
“Hello?” she asked, opening the door to the length of the chain.
“Hi. It’s me, Oz,” he said.
“Hi. Can I do something for you?” she asked.
“I brought you some muffins and some-some books,” he ventured, holding up a basket. “Oh. Just a second.” She closed the door and undid the last lock, then opened it wide.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
“Oh. Of course!” she said quickly, stepping back from the door. He stepped inside and Willow eyes him shyly. His hair was his *normal* red, but he looked . . . different. Older. Well, so did she.
“How are you?” he asked gently. Willow’s hand went automatically to her face, as it always did, but she caught herself and put it down by her side.
“I’m getting better,” she said softly.
“Good. That’s good. I brought you muffins,” he said suddenly, changing the subject.
“You told me,” Willow said, taking the basket and putting it down on the kitchen/dining room table. “Thank you.”
“The books and-and some other things are in there too. I-I thought they might cheer you up.”
“Thank you,” Willow repeated. There was an awkward silence. “Do you-do you want anything? To eat or drink, I mean,” Willow asked quickly.
“Uh-no-no, thanks. I was actually wondering if you were doing anything on Friday, ‘cause my band’s playing at the Bronze, and it’d be really cool if you wanted to-you know-show up,” Oz said nonchalantly.
“I don’t know. I-I’ll try and come,” Willow said. “Thank you.”
“Sure. I guess I’d better, uh, be going. I’ll see you later, maybe,” Oz said. Willow nodded.
“Yeah, I’ll see you. Thanks for everything.” He nodded and went to the door, casting her a smile before he left. She managed to return it, then closed her eyes when he was gone. After a while she sat down at the table and looked at the basket and what was in it. Besides the muffins—blueberry—there was a tape, labeled “Dingos Ate My Baby,” and a book of prank spells. She smiled when she saw it, and began leafing through it before her eyes found the album and she stopped smiling.
It was small, and it didn’t look like much until she opened it. It was full of pictures, from years ago, in high school. Their senior year. The first picture was of her, lying in the grass, her short hair spread around her. There was a picture of Oz with his guitar, and more, of all of them, of the whole group. Willow smiled when she saw a picture of Xander and Cordelia kissing passionately, then laughed when the next picture showed them yelling at each other. There was one of Buffy by herself, a daisy in her hand and a tragic expression on her face, and then all of them, laughing, happy, young and carefree. The last was just Willow and Oz. She remembered it, remembered the day and the life she had lived then. They were smiling, and happy, and the look in their eyes was one of love.
Looking at the pictures, Willow Rosenburg Metzler began to cry.
“Willow, it’s me and Angel,” Buffy called, unlocking the door. “We’re coming in.” There wasn’t a reply, but she figured it was all right and opened the door cautiously. Everything was clean and neat and in order. Willow appeared from her room, looking adorable with her hair twisted up and a pretty green dress on.
“Hi,” she said softly, smiling shyly.
“Hey! You look great! Oz will be impressed,” Buffy said, hugging her best friend and kissing her cheek. Willow blushed and ignored her last comment.
“Thanks. So do you,” Willow said. Buffy was wearing a mid-calf length dress that shimmered from black to red when she moved, and had a long slit up one side. She’d cut her hair the years before, it was shorter now, and closer to her head. “Scully style,” she called it.
“Both of you,” Willow added, turning to greet Angel. He hugged her lightly, careful not to touch any bruises. He looked the same as always—black clothes never went out of style, and neither did his classic good looks.
“I think so,” Buffy agreed, linking her arm with her husband’s. “About Angel, that is.”
“Your coat?” Angel suggested. Willow nodded and got her jacket from a row of pegs by the door.
“Ready?” Buffy asked. Willow nodded nervously. “We’re off then.” She opened the door and stepped out, looking around for any danger. Nothing. She nodded to Willow, who took a deep breath and stepped after her. Angel came last, locking the door behind him. The vampire and the Slayer fell into step around Willow, knowing how hard it was for her to leave the house and go somewhere she wasn’t totally protected. Somewhere Jon could find her.
Behind Willow’s back Angel and Buffy held hands. They continued walking.
The Bronze was busy, as always. In the years since Cordelia had bought it, it had been expanded to include more dance space, a restaurant and an adult-only bar. The guard nodded them past and eyed the next couple to arrive. A smile twitched on Buffy’s mouth as she thought of just how long the large man could keep her and Angel—and even Willow, with her spellbook—out if they wanted in. She wagered ten seconds, though it could be less.
“Buds!” the cry came the moment they entered. They turned to regard Xander, who had just vaulted over the bar and was on his way over. Years married to Cordelia had changed him—or at least his clothes. The rest was the same. Mostly. Where once he would have greeted Angel with a suspicious—or even hating—look, he now greeted him just as cheerfully as the rest of them.
“Hey Xand. What’s up?” Buffy asked, kissing his cheek lightly, and handing him her coat. He eyed it, but took it anyway and reached for Willow’s too. Angel greeted him with a smile and Willow lifted her face for his quick kiss.
“I’m good. I saw the G-Man a little while ago. He came by to see if you were here.” Buffy made a face.
“Did he say why?” she asked.
“He said to remind you about your appointment tomorrow?” Xander said, a question in his voice. Buffy’s scowl deepened, then she sighed and laughed.
“He never gives up. Anyway, that doesn’t matter now. I still have the night off.”
“Good,” Angel said, taking her arm and turning her towards him. “Because tonight you’re mine and I intend it to stay that way.” He drew her closer and she put her arms around his neck, all else forgotten.
"Feeling’s mutual,” she purred, pulling his head down for a kiss. Behind her Xander coughed pointedly.
“You know, this is a public place. Couldn’t you two wait till you’re somewhere alone?” he asked. They broke apart and turned to look at him smiling.
“Right, Xander. As if you and Cordy haven’t don—” Willow interrupted hastily.
“Where is Cordelia anyway?” she asked.
“She’s around somewhere,” Xander replied. “Last I saw she was flirting with Devon, Mr. Lead Singer.”
“I was not! I was making sure he had everything he needed,” Cordelia corrected, walking up to them. She was, as always, dressed in the height of fashion, her make-up perfect and not a hair out of place. She cast a smile around the group. “Good evening one and all! Welcome to the Bronze!”
“They know where we are, love,” Xander teased gently, putting his arms around her and drawing her closer.
“I know that, silly boy! I was just greeting them!” she exclaimed. As much as Cordelia had changed Xander’s sense of style (or lack thereof), he had changed her manner more. It was hard to recognize the Cordelia of sophomore year in the beautiful, successful—NICE—woman that stood before them. Well, most of the time. She still had her bad moments.
“The Scooby Gang’s together again!” Xander announced, looking around with a grin.
“Um, Xander . . . we do this at least once a week, plus we usually all meet at the library or something more than that,” Buffy pointed out.
“I was just trying to get the energy up, the conversation going!” he exclaimed.
“The conversation was going Xander,” Cordelia said.
“Sorry!” Buffy and Cordelia exchanged glances and sighs, then returned to the original conversation, and to Cordy greeting everyone.
“How are you Willow?” she asked, turning to the red-head.
“I’m doing all right,” Willow replied sturdily. Cordelia smiled brilliantly.
“Good! I know the perfect way to cover up that bruise t—” she stopped suddenly and looked around with a dismayed expression. “Was I not supposed to talk about that?” Xander shook his head slowly, and Cordy winced.
“It’s okay,” Willow assured her. With that forgiveness in her heart Cordelia brightened up once again and continued.
“I’ve had personal experience with bruises like that, you know. Well, not exactly the same kind, I mean, I didn’t get them in the same way, because Xander’s really nice and all, but-but-well, from vampires and stuff, and from that monster guy at the Senior Graduation . . . at least he didn’t get to me until after the pictures were taken. I don’t know what I would have done if I had to have my graduation pictures looking like that! I would have died! But what I was going to say was—” she stopped short again, and looked around. “Um, I’m done now.”
“Wise choice Cordy,” Xander said, and she shot him an annoyed look, but he only smiled serenely.
“Ooo, the band’s starting!” Buffy said, sliding a glance at Willow. “Oz’s up there.”
“Yeah,” Cordelia said, “I’m making the Bronze the official home of Dingoes Ate My Baby. They’re getting really big!”
“Cordy’s handling record sales,” Xander told them all.
“Never knew you’d turn out to be such a business woman,” Buffy said admiringly. Cordelia beamed . . . until her husband started talking.
“Yeah, it’s all those hours of shopping done as a young child,” he said seriously. She elbowed him, but he ducked out of the way just in time. Buffy and Angel exchanged looks and grins.
“This is a fast one,” Willow said.
“Yeah, I always have them start out with something really upbeat. It catches the attention of the crowd. Then they go slow for a few songs, give more people a chance to mosey in, before they get into their main bulk,” Cordelia said.
“Wow, you really have this figured out, don’t you?” Buffy asked.
“She’s just special that way,” Xander said. Cordelia tried to hit him again, but her caught her hand and kissed it. She melted, the pulled away abruptly.
“Gotta go, my business calls,” she said, indicating a potential fight over by the adult bar. Xander pouted, then turned to Buffy with enthusiasm.
“Wanna dance?” he asked. Buffy laughed, and glanced at Angel who nodded, then took Xander’s hand and drew him towards the dance floor. Behind them, Angel led Willow out too.
“Willow looks really good,” Xander said, watching Angel tease Willow. Buffy smiled fondly.
“Yeah, I think she’d really doing well. Just coming tonight was a big step for her. Oz asked her to,” Buffy said, spinning out and then back in, in time to the music. Xander’s brows arched.
“Really now? You know, I think I was mistaken about Oz. Werewolves have never looked so good!” he exclaimed. Buffy smiled, then shushed him.
“Not too loud, Xander. I’m within hearing distance. Really. But I know what you mean. I think Oz could be really good for her. She needs someone to love her . . . to really love her, not just pretend to,” Buffy said quietly.
“Yes indeedy! That’s exactly what she needs. Right now, for the moment, we need to dance and revel in the fact that everything is very, very good.”
“Nine ‘o clock and all’s well?” Buffy asked.
“Damn right! Cordelia’s happy with her restaurant, I’m happy with my bar—though actual wages might be nice—we’re *mostly* happy with each other. You and Angel are obviously doing great as *always*. The vampires are being good, meek little guys, there aren’t any hairy-scary big ‘uns in town, and Willow’s a free woman again. What could go wrong?”
Which was when Buffy stumbled.
Xander caught her and steadied her while she took a deep breath and got on her feet again. “Hey, you okay?” he asked.
“I think so,” Buffy said. “I just tripped myself. You know me . . . two left feet. Anyway, I feel fine.”
“Are you sure?” Xander asked doubtfully.
“I’m fine,” Buffy replied firmly. “Maybe a little tired, but fine.”
“Why don’t you sit down? Just for the rest of this song,” Xander suggested. Buffy sighed.
“All right, but only ‘cause it’ll make you happy Xander-Wander,” she said in a sing-song. He made a face and she made on back as she slid into a seat at one of the tables surrounding the dance floor.
“Let me get you a drink,” Xander said, going over to the bar—now being tended by one of the numerous employees . . . the ones that got actual wages. Buffy watched him crack a joke to a couple at the bar, then pull out two glasses and begin making them drinks. She turned her attention to Angel and Willow, dancing, and smiled at the sight. She was glad Willow was all right with Angel. What Buffy and Angel had was beyond jealousy, and Willow really needed to have male friends that didn’t hit her. She would never get over her fear if she never saw any men that weren’t threatening. She was still having trouble with those that weren’t.
She’d confided to Buffy—over brownies a few days before—that it was even hard to be around Xander sometimes. She loved him like a brother, but for a long time she’d thought she loved him as something more, and that made her think of Jon Metzler, her ex-husband, which scared her. Angel had always been a friend, and only a friend. Willow had been the only person (except for Buffy) without any misgivings when he returned from Hell. She’d been a wonderful friend to them both and now they were just trying to do the same for her.
Buffy smiled as Angel dipped Willow. He was a good dancer—she’d always loved that about him. Well, she’d always loved just about *everything* about him. She caught a glimpse of Willow’s face—smiling—and Angel said something that made her laugh. Buffy’s smile broadened, just as Xander returned, two drinks in hand.
“Here you are,” he said, handing her a Bloody Mary. She accepted it with a smile and sipped it slowly, her eyes going back to the couple on the dance floor.
“She’s comfortable with Angel, isn’t she?” Xander asked, a tiny hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. Most people wouldn’t even notice, but Buffy was trained to, plus she had exceptional hearing.
“She’s comfortable with you,” Buffy said, in reply. He gave her a sidelong glance, suprised she had picked out his real meaning.
“Not like she used to be,” he said.
“Yeah, well, she’s different than she used to be. You have to give her time Xander. She’ll come around.” Buffy stole a glance at him. His eyes were riveted on Willow and Angel. Almost like he was jealous. Perhaps he was. He had always been Willow’s best friend—certainly her best guy friend. Now she’d been hurt and she couldn’t accept his comfort. It was hard for him. But Buffy knew it was hard for Willow too.
“I just want to help her,” Xander said quietly.
“I know. She knows too. Believe me, she knows. And that’s what matters. If she needs you, she knows where to find you,” Buffy told him truthfully. He looked at her and she offered him a comforting smile. He took it, and smiled back at her, just as the song ended.
“Thanks Buff,” he said.
“No problem,” she told him. “Though, you know, if you want to pay me for it, I don’t have a problem with that either. I’d say about fifteen dollars.”
“Fifteen? For two minutes?” She shrugged and regarded him seriously.
“My rates are high,” she replied, then smiled and he laughed.
“When Cordy starts paying me, I’ll start paying you. As it is . . . I’m broke,” Xander said, pulling his empty pockets out. Buffy laughed sympathetically, then turned to greet Angel and Willow.
“Why are you sitting down?” Angel asked. Buffy shrugged.
“I tripped over my feet and Xander made me. He says he wants me to rest, but I think he didn’t want his feet stepped on anymore,” she confided. Angel smiled slowly. A slow song started up.
“Just what the doctor—or shall I say Cordelia—ordered,” Angel said, extending a hand. “I’m willing to have my feet stepped on to dance with such a beautiful woman.”
“Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” Buffy teased, but stood up and followed him onto the dance floor, twining her arms around his neck.
“Won’t it?” Angel asked archly.
“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” Buffy replied. He didn’t respond—not in words—just leaned down and kissed her, still moving to the music. Buffy sighed into his mouth and realized that Xander had been right. They might have their little problems, but overall, everything was perfect. At least, it seemed so.