“How?” he asked pitifully. She glared at him.
“Damn it, Xander, for once in your life be a man!” Buffy snapped. “Tell Willow you love her. Tell her that you need her. Tell her that Oz, while a cool guy and a decent human being, is not the one who she needs. Tell her she needs you. If you don’t think you’re good enough for her to love, then why should she?”
“You’ve got a point,” he admitted reluctantly. She nodded, satisfied.
“Of course I have a point. It’s a damn good point, too.”
“She’ll get so mad at me, though,” Xander protested half-heartedly. “She made the decision to be with Oz. She rejected me. Why should she change her mind?”
“Because ever since those vampire versions of you guys came to town, she’s been wavering. She looks at the vamp Xander and the way he and Vamp Willow are infatuated with each other, and then she looks at you, and she’s sad. She wants you, Xander, but she doesn’t think she can ask for you. She knows she screwed up, but she’s too proud to tell you she made a mistake,” Buffy informed him, accentuating each word with a pointed finger to his chest.
“So I’m supposed to make things easier for her?” Xander queried bitterly. His dark eyes flashed his resentment. “She gets to play with me, make me love her, then turn on me and go back to him, and now that she knows she picked the wrong guy, I’m supposed to go to her and tell her, ‘It’s okay, you screwed me over but I’m going to come crawling back to you anyway,’ ?”
“Xander, you hurt her so many times,” Buffy argued.
“But I never played with her the way she played with me,” Xander interrupted. “I never gave her any reason to think I loved her. She loved me, yeah, but it was on her own terms. I didn’t kiss and run. I didn’t make her think she had a chance with me and then turn my back on her. Sure, I chased every female on the planet that wasn’t her, but I never asked her to love me. She did it anyway. And as much as I love her, I’m not going to let her kiss me, use me for cheap thrills, and then go back to Oz when it suits her whims. Willow’s changed, Buffy, in case you haven’t noticed. And the Willow she’s become doesn’t give a shit about me anymore. She wouldn’t think twice about hurting me.”
“I wouldn’t think twice about hurting him,” Willow allowed casually. “Of course, Xander gets off on pain. His whole life was full of it. It’s all he knew. So it’s comfortable now.”
Anya stared at her, fascinated. “How can you love him?” she asked. “He’s a vampire.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, mortal, so am I,” Willow sneered. Her pretty features twisted into a mocking grin. “And it’s pretty easy, actually. Demons don’t love in the traditional sense. But they are capable of feeling intense bonds. It’s what makes drinking from someone you cared about in life such a rush. That bond makes the blood so much richer.”
“So, I gotta ask,” Anya started. “Who turned who?”
“Xander turned me,” Willow informed her. Her features took on a reminiscing air. “He was on his way to tell me he loved me. It was interesting, actually. Normally when a significant turning was made, it was Spike or Angelus or some big important vampire. No, some random vamp got Xander. He was so worried about me; I’d just broken up with my boyfriend because I couldn’t get over Xander, and he was going to come keep me company while I cried out my frustration. And the vamp took advantage of his preoccupation and got him. Xander managed to cut the vamp. The vamp wasn’t going to turn Xander, but Xander refused to die without telling me he loved me. So, he cut the vamp and managed to drink some of his blood, knowing he would come back. He did, and when he came to tell me he loved me, I knew. I could just tell that he wasn’t my Xander anymore. But I’d just broken up with Oz, and I loved Xander, and I wanted to be with him, bad enough that I turned my back on everything I knew to be right, and I let him turn me. We’ve been together ever since.”
“Wow. So, why are you guys still here?” Anya asked quickly, before Willow could regale her with more tales of Xander. “The time on the spell should have run out and sent you back to factory-land.”
“We have a reason to be here,” Willow revealed mysteriously. “It’s the whole reason your spell went wrong and we got transferred here. Something is going to happen. I don’t know what, but Xander and I are to be a part of it. Oh, by the way, here’s your necklace.” She slowly slid her talon-crested fingers back from her palm, revealing the dark blue gem. Anya’s eyes widened and she eagerly grabbed for it.
“My power center!” she gasped. “Oh, thank you!” She looked up to see Willow vamped out.
“You’re welcome. It’s a pity that you’ll never use it.”
“So, Willow, what’s up?” Oz asked, his voice as laid-back and nonchalant as ever. Willow swallowed nervously. She felt so bad doing this, but if Buffy was telling her the truth, and Buffy never lied to her, well, except for that time about Angel, then Xander really loved her, and it wasn’t just a fluke, and Willow knew she loved him back, so that meant she had to break up with Oz, and even though she really cared about Oz, he wasn’t Xander and she didn’t love him. *Whew!* she thought. *Even my mental rambling is confusing!*
“Oz, we gotta talk,” she said quietly. Oz’s ears pricked up and his heart fell with a thud.
*It’s *the* talk,* he realized gloomily. *I knew it couldn’t last.* Out loud, he replied, “I’ve got band practice in ten minutes. Meet me at the Bronze at ten. We’ll be playing, but I can get away between sets.”
“All right,” she whispered. She placed the receiver back in the cradle. *Time to do what your heart is telling you, not your mind, Rosenberg.* “Oh, God,” she said aloud. “I’m breaking up with Oz. How can I do this to him?” Looking at the picture on her dresser, Willow’s lips softened into a loving smile, and her heart answered for her. *Because in that picture, on your dresser, is a dark-haired, dark-eyed man who has known you all your life and been your hero for as long. There will never be anyone besides him.* Willow sighed and held the picture to her heart. *After tonight, there’s nothing stopping the two of you from being blissfully happy for the rest of your lives.*