Xander fought his way out of the haze of sleep and alcohol, trying to figure out why everything just felt *wrong*. He turned, knowing that he wasn't in his bed. The last thing he remembered was starting on his third drink at the bar, and then he woke up. . .wherever he was.

He opened bleary eyes, waiting a moment for his vision to focus. He turned his head slowly, looking around the room. He knew the room. . .his body sighed with relief when he realized it was Willow's guest room. He glanced at the clock. Six in the morning. Plenty of time for him to sleep for several more hours. . .

"DAMN IT, WILLOW!"

Xander's eyes flew open and his body jerked, and he looked around. "What the fuck?" he asked himself.

He looked towards the door, which was cracked. He could hear the voices from downstairs drifting up the stairs, filtering into his room. "Mark, please! Calm down!" Willow sounded like she was sobbing, begging him to leave her alone.

Xander sat up quickly, then grabbed the headboard, his hand going to his mouth. < Don't be sick, don't be sick, > he thought, inhaling deeply. < Gotta save Wills, gotta save Wills. . . >

"Why is he here?" Mark asked angrily.

"He was practically *passed* out at the bar down the street! They called me to ask me to come get him, so he didn't do something stupid like get on the road and kill someone!"

"Why didn't they call Buffy? How did they know to call you?" Mark snapped.

Willow gulped slightly, looking down. "The bartender asked him who to call and he said me." That wasn't entirely the whole truth, she left out the part when the bartender referred to Xander as her boyfriend.

Mark grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her to him. "Listen here, Willow. I don't want him around you *anymore*. And the child you are carrying? If he's born with one characteristic of Xander Harris, I swear to god, I'm killing you."

Xander's mouth dropped open. Willow was pregnant? *No* one knew that. Why wasn't she telling anyone? He took another deep breath and pushed himself up. He *had* to get her out of that house. He closed his eyes, calming his nerves and his stomach. Once he felt well enough to move, he reached into the back of his mind, pulling forth the couple of days he was possessed by the hyena. He shivered as the memories slammed back into his mind. He opened dark brown eyes, ready to protect what was *his*.

Willow started crying. "It's yours, Mark! I swear! I haven't been with anyone but you! Please. . .you are hurting me!" she sobbed.

Mark yanked her hair again, turning her face up to his. "You are mine to hurt, you little bitch."

"I suggest you let her go," a calm voice said behind them.

Mark turned, still holding Willow's hair. Her hands went up, gripping his wrist, trying to get him to let go of her hair. Tears were streaming down her face, and she was shaking in terror. "Xander, leave!" she hissed. "He' ll hurt you."

"No, Xander, why don't you stay? My fist has always wanted to become intimate with your face."

Xander's eyebrow rose. "Is that the best snappy kick-my-ass line you can come up with?" He tsked at the former Marine. "You should take lessons from Buffy. She could teach you some good things to say before you pummel someone."

"Xander, just leave!" Willow begged, tears streaming down her face, making the pale skin splotchy.

"Wills, don't cry, baby," Xander said soothingly, stepping forward.

Mark yanked Willow's hair harder and she cried out in pain. Xander's eyes narrowed and he growled, launching at the burly ex-soldier.

In his surprise, Mark's grip on Willow loosened, and she pulled away from them, falling to the floor and scrambling behind the couch to hide from the violence.

Xander slammed into Mark, adrenaline running through his veins. He clutched Mark's hair and slammed his head into the floor. "Don't. You. Ever. Touch. Her. Again," he hissed angrily.

Mark flipped them, wrapping his hands around Xander's throat. "I've always wanted to do this." He started squeezing. "And it will be so easy, I can get away with it. I'll just tell the police that you were threatening my wife, and I came in and had to kill you to get you to leave me alone. . .she won't testify against me, because she *knows* what will happen to her if she does." He turned his head to look at his wife. "Don't you, Will. . ." His voice faltered as he looked up his angry wife's body, seeing her holding a heavy metal candlestick holder over her head.

"Don't ever threaten Xander again," she hissed, slamming the holding over his head.

Mark slumped against Xander, causing the smaller man to 'oof' as all the air rushed out of his lungs. "Oh, god, heavy guy," he muttered, pushing Mark off of him. He stood up, then swayed, between the lack of air to his brain, and the earlier sickness from drinking the night before. He grabbed on to Willow and held her shoulder for support.

Willow glanced down at Mark's unconscious body. "He'll wake up soon. What now?"

Xander threw her a goofy grin. He pulled out his cell phone and pushed a button, then enter. He held the phone to his ear. After a moment, his face lit up. "Deadboy! Guess what!?" There was a pause. "No, I did not snag Willow. Not yet anyway." Pause. "Yes, I know. *Anyway*. . .we are coming to LA." Pause. "Why? Because I tried to hurt Mark, and he tried to kill me and she knocked him out. We need to have a place to hide out." Pause. "Cool. See ya in a couple hours." He hung up.

Willow smiled. "I haven't seen Spike and Angel since the wedding," she said softly.

"Yea, they will be happy to see you too," Xander nodded.

Willow wrapped her arm around his waist as they walked out of the house. "What did he mean about snagging me?" she asked, looking up at him.

He looked down, with a sad smile on his face. "Don't worry about it, Wills. After we get everything straightened out, maybe I'll tell you."

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