Chapter Text
“Hey!” Andrew said, grinning, as Xander, Willow, and Buffy joined him in their usual Tuesday gaming spot.
“Hey, Andj.”
Willow pulled out her stuff and a new netbook she'd found and printed up for Jon to take a look at, and Xander got out his own dice, and notebook with his character sheet and various GURPS-related scribblings. They didn't have to wait too long for Jonathan, and after Willow had passed him the printout and he'd gotten out the books and his GM notes, Buffy leaned forward toward them.
“So, uh, what would I need to do if I wanted to, um, join you guys?”
“You, you mean like, join the game?” Jon asked, blinking.
“Mm-hm.”
###
Darla hissed.
“This isn't over.”
She moved backward, stepping back into the total darkness behind the stage door of the Bronze, and was gone.
Giles banged on the console, and the strobe stopped, leaving moonlight and silence in its wake. Buffy slumped down to sit against the inside of the bar, and Xander slowly got up, joined by Willow and Giles, going down the stairs as Buffy dragged herself up and toward them.
“Where's Angel?” Willow asked. Buffy looked at her, eyes empty, then turned her head to look at the dusty floor on the other side of the room. Then she started tearing up.
“Oh.” Willow stepped forward and hugged her, and Buffy clung to her and buried her face in the redhead's shoulder.
###
“I need to tell you guys something,” Willow said, shoulders firm, tense. Xander and Buffy and Amy looked at her across Buffy's kitchen table.
“Go for it, Wills,” Xander said. Willow nodded and took a deep breath, then let it out quickly.
“I, um. I like girls, like, like-like girls.”
###
Buffy sat on the bench in the school courtyard, her arms across her satchel, and Xander crosslegged next to her, facing her.
“You either feel a thing, or you don't.”
Even as he said it, he knew which one it was. Buffy looked down, sniffed once, and in a slightly choked voice, confirmed,
“I don't.” She swallowed and looked up at him. “Xander I'm, I'm sorry. I just don't think of you that way. You feel like, I dunno... I dunno if brother is the right word, but that's sort of how I see you. It'd be like dating Willow.”
“I'd date Willow,” Xander said, because his brain function was dealing with rejection and letting his mouth just say honest things, which frequently went poorly. He reeled it in.
Buffy gave him a sad smile, and rested her hand on top of his. She swallowed again.
“Xander... you're... you're like family. Can't that be enough?”
A weird burning sensation blossomed behind his eyes, and a pressure followed in his chest.
“Family?” he repeated weakly.
Buffy looked at whatever expression was currently on his face, took a breath, and then leaned in for a loose hug. Her forehead pressed against his shoulder.
“Please... my life is tough enough. Can we just... keep this?”
Past the lump in his throat and a ragged breath, Xander choked out a quiet,
“Okay.”
###
Xander and Darla stared at each other in the school hallway.
“My name is Xander Harris. You killed my best friend. Prepare to die.”
The shotgun was already fully ready as he swung it down from his shoulder and pulled the trigger. The blur that was the blonde vampire barreling toward him twisted, and he thought she dodged, until she skidded past him and slammed into a wall of lockers, some of them bending, others swinging open from the impact. She spun toward him, game face on, and snarled, then leapt for him again, arms- no, arm- extended. He'd shot off her left arm at the bicep.
###
Darla's eyes went wide, and she spun toward where Buffy was fighting the Master, and screamed.
“NO!”
Xander, ey e ing her sternum, dug in his pocket for his stake, or his cross; she whirled back with a venomous glare, seized him smoothly by the front of his hoodie, and chucked him into the lockers.
When Xander groaned and opened his eyes, Buffy was kneeling over him, hair falling on either side of her face, looking worried; that shifted to relief as he looked at her.
“Hey, Buff. You get him?”
“I got him.”