I’m way past that.

But when I do think of Sunnydale, I wonder about the people that, for a period of time, were the only ones I could talk to about the way things really were. And, for a while, I thought were my friends…the only real friends I ever had.

Not that they weren’t my friends…I mean, they were and probably still are. Friends hurt each other all the time, right? I mean look at how Xander treated Willow all of their lives. That’s friendship too, right? Not seeing? Not caring? Trampling over someone’s heart to get what you want…

There I go thinking about him again.

But it’s actually her I’m thinking about. I got an email from her today, asking me to tell Angel something about some big demon that might be headed our way. I didn’t ask why Buffy couldn’t kick a little demon ass and give us the day off, but I was tempted.

But something in Willow’s words, and this is so silly, I know, seemed sad. Not the desperate sad she was after Oz broke up with her because of the Xander debacle. Not the clingy, grabby sadness that she seemed consumed with back then, needing to make things the way they’d been before.

This was more a grown up sadness. One that hurt her clean through to the bone.

Ha! There’s an interesting phrase, isn’t it?

So I emailed Giles. I know he doesn’t check very often, and he hates to use the computer, but I also know that he does do some stuff on it, simply because I’ve received email from him. He can be a nice guy. But he really pisses me off.

Because, explain to me here, how a beautiful girl like me – the queen of Sunnydale – manages to attract the attentions of the school geek and a fledgling watcher but a girl like Willow – the other school geek – manages to snare the lead guitar in *the* local band, the school geek *and* the hottie librarian. I don’t get that at all. I mean, where is the justice in the world?

I mentioned that Giles is way in love with Willow, right? Because, without knowing that, this doesn’t make any sense. At first, when I’d watch them, I thought it was just that whole “she’s just like I was when I was a boring child” thing, but then as I got more involved in the group, I realized that he had a full-fledged thing for her.

We’re talking all out, ga-ga, way into Miss Willow. He has this picture on his desk in the library…well, when there was still a library - and it’s of the whole gang back when we used to be a gang, when we all used to be friends and one day, while I was looking for Wesley, I walked into his office and he was staring at it.

At first, I thought, Buffy. I mean, she’s his Slayer, she’s the one everyone lusts after, right? Every guy loves that tortured romance, one true love thing, sure that they can be the one to replace Angel in her heart or die trying. But then he raised his hand and just traced Willow’s face with his finger, and the look in his eyes…well, I’ve seen that look before, and it never means anything good.

It’s the way Willow used to look at Xander.

That whole smitten thing. Which I so don’t understand. I mean, when I like a guy, I pursue. It’s the way of the jungle.

Not that either of them would last a day in the jungle. Heck, I don’t know that they’d even manage to last a day in a zoo.

Speaking of Willow, which I usually don’t do, bad memories and all, back to her email. I asked Giles, and he told me about Oz and how concerned he was for Willow, and how they were all doing everything they could to help her.

Sunnydale translation: Willow was heartbroken, we were sick of her whining, something went horribly wrong, everything is all right now. But it wasn’t what he said; it was the way he said it. Because I’m guessing, whatever big whammy Willow pulled on the gang, Giles got the worst of it.

Because you always hurt the ones you love, right? And she loves him and doesn’t want to…or won’t admit it. She’s smack-dab in the middle of love with him and can’t admit it to herself because she’s too blind to see. Or too stupid to notice. Or other derogatory things that I’m not going to say because then someone might think I was bitter.

Which I’m not. I’m so far over Xander Harris; I don’t even remember what he looks like.

So the rest of us, even those of us not on the Hellmouth, have to suffer through their silence, enduring the shy looks, the soft touches, the worried emails, the drunken phone calls…Okay, there haven’t been any of those, except from Doyle, but a girl can dream for something to liven up her life, can’t she?

It’s nice being away from it all, not having to watch the daily grind, not having to pretend not to see. Of course, when it’s crunch time, and one of them calls, I have to pretend that I know nothing. And, if – by some Hellmouthy chance - anything comes of this, I’ll have to pretend to be surprised and act all shocked and everything.

And it’s a good thing I’m a great actress.

Because that’s going to be an Oscar worthy moment.