"She never did like strawberries, did she?"

"No." Willow sighed and shook her head, her hair shoulder length again, the color somewhere between red, blonde and beautiful. "She never did."

"And Cordy."

"No, she never really liked Cordy, either."

"No," Xander smiled. "I meant Cordy never really liked strawberries." He kicked at the lush green grass, chewing his lip as he watched the tip of his ratty tennis shoes part the blades. "You don't think the two are connected do you? We don't need to go rushing the local Farmer's Markets and stock up, do we?"

"No." He could hear the laughter in her voice. "I think we're safe from any fruit induced deaths."

"And scurvy."

She paused for a long moment before turning to look at him and grinning, the sun parting the clouds in her smile. "Yeah. And scurvy."

He took her hand in his and started walking, guiding her toward the cemetery entrance. It was almost noon, though the gray clouds made it look later, gave everything the sense of urgency that the coming night brings. "You know what I was thinking, Will? I was thinking…"

"Yes."

He stopped and looked at her, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You don't even know what I was going to ask."

"Yes. I do." She stood on tiptoe and pressed a soft, hesitant kiss on his lips. He smiled and she kissed him again, harder, stronger. Her tongue parted his lips and her arms threaded around his neck. They stayed like that for a long time, locked in a kiss, lost in each other. Finally, Willow pulled back and blushed. "But that doesn't change my answer at all."

Willow rushed over to where Xander had fallen, fear and horror in her expression as she tried to staunch the flow of blood. She pulled her shirt over her head, pressing the fabric to the wound, sobbing as the thick red liquid continued to spill out of him.

"Hey, that's mine."

She looked up, skin spattered with blood, the pale pink bra she'd worn just for him now a kaleidoscope of horror. Tears cluttered her vision as she blinked, the world starry and haloed as she met the hard eyes gazing down on her. "It's Xander," she whispered brokenly. "He needs help."

"He needs a morgue." Faith sighed and sank down next to Willow, her dark black books blending into the night and the blood. "Dammit, I always break 'em before I'm done with 'em."

"He…you…"

"Oh, come on, Red. You know I fucked him."

"Once."

Faith smiled and edged one foot out, nudging the paling body with the steel toe of her boot. "You think he'd have it once and not come back for more?" She turned her head and held Willow's eyes. "Your little boyfriend's been pretending I'm a different Slayer for a hell of a long time now."

"No."

"Yeah." Faith stood and shrugged. "It's a pity, really. I almost had him trained."

Faith walked away leaving Willow on her knees in Xander's blood sobbing. She bent her head, her hair growing redder, sticky with the dark mass. "No. Nononononono…"

"Hey, Red."

Willow awoke with a start, gasping loudly as she sat up in bed. She turned her head quickly, sucking in a harsh breath as she saw Faith's familiar eyes, knowing smile so close.

"No need to look quite so horrified. I know I look like shit in the morning, but still."

"No. Sorry. No."

"Nightmare?" She handed Willow a cup of coffee then sat next to her on the bed. "Again?"

Willow nodded and took a drink, spilling some on the bedspread. Faith reached over and took the mug from her trembling hands and set it on the nightstand before turning back, laying on the cool sheets and reaching up to pull Willow down with her.

Faith's arms circled Willow and brought her close, her warm breath feathering the red hair as she pressed lazy kisses to her temple. "What'd I tell you about those?"

"No bad guys this time."

"Well," Faith slid one hand down, caressing Willow's breast for a moment before letting it slip further south, fingers pushing beneath the elastic of her panties to the damp flesh below, "you remember what you say if there are." Willow nodded, her body shaking from something other than pleasure as Faith's fingers slipped inside. "You tell 'em to back the fuck off. Because you're mine."

"It's February." Xander plopped a chocolate kiss on Willow's desk. "Do you know where your groundhog is?"

"It's the end of February, Xander."

"And the point here is?"

"Groundhog Day is at the beginning of the month."

"Right. I know that. I lived in a library for much of my teenaged life, much to my dismay. The knowledge," he tapped his forehead. "She rubs off."

"And so…"

"Everyone knows where their groundhog is on Groundhog's Day. It's his day. But, the end of February, what are those groundhogs getting up to? That's what I want to know."

Willow unwrapped the kiss and popped it in her mouth, closing her eyes as she savored it, letting the chocolate melt on her tongue. "And the kiss? Is that the worldwide symbol of post-groundhog day celebration?"

Xander shifted uncomfortably, his eyes on her tongue as it darted out to make sure there was no extraneous chocolate making a run for it. "Er, well, no. That's more of an I get yelled at when I kiss you at work, so I'm substituting chocolate for the real thing so that I can go home and imagine your face as you eat it again so that when you come home at the end of the day…"

"This is going to venture into pornographic territory soon, isn't it?"

"Quite possibly." He sat on the edge of her desk, ignoring the glare he got from the librarian across the huge room. Leaning in, he brushed a lock of hair back from her face. "But you have to remember, any man can make a demon go straight. It's not so easy with the lesbians."

Willow laughed and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, letting him melt on her tongue. "You're incredibly lucky that I love you."

"Tell me something I don't know." He held up his hand as she opened her mouth. "Actually, on second thought, don't. Because you will and I'm actually pretty blissful in my ignorance. See you tonight?"

"You think it'd miss the big Groundhog Day celebration?"

"You're a party animal, Wills." He kissed her again, slowly, softly. "See you tonight."

Anya watches because that's what she does. Once the wish is made, it's her job to just sit back and ride it out. She's lived in a million different dimensions, a million different wishes but this one is different.

This one's her own.

Xander's sitting at a bar in some no doubt god-forsaken town soaking up the St. Patrick's Day revelry with a beer of the most putrid shade of green she's ever seen. He looks different - older, wiser…well, maybe not wiser. It is Xander, after all. She wonders if she remembers how it works. How it all works.

"Buy you a drink?"

He looks at her with his one eye, his lashes long and dark. The chocolate brown lightens then darkens with emotion as he sees her and then *sees* her. "Anya?"

She doesn't respond, finds it hard to with him holding her so tightly. It feels good to have his hands on her, moving over her as if to reassure himself she's real.

"You're real. You're real." He holds her at arms length, his eye narrowing. "How are you real?"

"It pays to have friends in low places." The wound hurts her, it always does when she remembers, but she thinks it has more to do with how hard he hugged her. It's a better hurt than it's ever been. "And most of my friends were very, very low."

"So you're a demon again?"

"You know what they say. You can take the girl out of the demon, but you can't take the demon out of the girl." She smiles and that hurts too. "I can't stay."

"But you…" he catches himself and that hurts most of all. "You offered to buy me a drink."

Maybe he was wiser after all. "So long as it's not green."