"Are we expecting company?" Ira looked from his wife to Willow.

"Not me. Unless it's Buffy." Willow got up and rushed to the door.

As she left the room, her mother shrugged. "Mrs. Harris called. She wondered if Xander could sleep over. I get the impression there's trouble in paradise."

"There's always trouble in paradise."

"So I said yes."

"Are you sure that's wise? They're teenagers now. And Willow does have a boyfriend."

"I couldn't say no."

Willow flung open the door, "Hey Bu…Xander. Um, hi. What are you doing here? And why do you have a sleeping bag? Are we having a sleepover?" She realized what she'd said and the potential impact it could now have. A warm flush stained her cheeks and she stepped back. "We're uh…having dinner."

"My folks wanted some privacy."

Willow's heart sank at his statement. When they were kids, she'd thought it was so romantic that his parents had wanted time alone. Until one day, they had snuck back into his house for something and heard the crashes, screams and tears. After that, Willow had dreaded any time Xander had uttered those words. "Come on in. Mom made roast beef."

"Mmmm. I love your mom." He set his things in the foyer and followed Willow into the dining room. A place had already been set for him, across from Willow where he'd always sat. "Thanks for letting me stay Mr. and Mrs. Rosenberg."

"Since when are we Mr. and Mrs. Rosenberg?" Ira glared at the younger man.

"Sorry. It's been a while. Mr. and Mrs. R."

"Better." Ira hrmphed.

"Hungry, Xander?"

The whole table burst into laughter. "Never been hungrier."

"Then help yourself."

Willow watched him as he ate. Throughout their childhood they'd made faces, played footsie - anything to make the other laugh. Tonight, she watched him through lowered lashes, noticing the man who'd been the boy she'd loved all her life.

The boy she got over with Oz's help.

But now, now he was a man. An immature one, but a man. And she was falling in love all over again.

Xander tried to ignore Willow's presence. They'd sworn at homecoming that nothing more would happen, and he was determined to stick to it. Not just because he was pretty sure Cordelia could - and would - kick his ass, but because he wanted Willow to be happy.

And how could she ever be happy with him? He had nothing to offer her. He was a coward, whiny, no ambition, no talent, alcoholic parents, no money. And despite the romantic aspect of it, man cannot live on love alone. Not even Angel, and if there was someone in the world who could live like a lovesick, brooding poet, it would have been him.

No, she was better off with Oz. Or anybody. Hell, even Jonathan. And he peed in pools.

"We'll get the dishes Mom." Willow shooed her parents out of the room and started gathering plates. "And I do mean WE."

Xander laughed at her glare, pushing his somber thoughts from dinner out of his mind. Clearing off the table with her, her held open the swinging door to the kitchen to allow her to pass through.

The smell of her overwhelmed him. She had a scent, unmarred by perfumes, which seemed to infiltrate even his dreams. She brushed past him, her arm grazing his stomach, and it took every ounce of strength he had not to pull her into his arms and kiss her again.

Willow set the plates down as quickly as she could. Her whole body trembled in the aftereffects of touching him. The china clattered on the counter, which she figured was better than crashing to the floor.

"I'll wash. You dry?"

Xander nodded, not trusting his voice. He was sure if he opened his mouth he'd confess his feelings to her or ask her something as insane as 'Will you marry me?'

Only the clink of dishes broke the silence in the room. Neither had the strength to speak, and certainly not the strength to speak anything other than the truth.

"So…" Xander looked around her bedroom at the walls, the computer, and the empty fish tank, anything but the bed and Willow. "We could go to the Bronze. Or to the library."

"Anywhere but here?"

He looked at her, as startled by her phrase as she was. "I…I don't mean…"

"I know." She laughed. "I don't either. Could this be more awkward?"

"Maybe if Oz and Cordy were here."

She giggled, picturing the sight. "Let's stay in. Play games. Like we used to."

"Can we do anything we used to do, Wills?"

"Are you still my friend?"

"Of course, how can ask that?"

"If you are, we can still do the things we used to."

"I think you should be Colonel Mustard. You were a soldier once."

"But Miss Scarlet is a hottie."

"I don't think now is the time to get in touch with your feminine side, Xander."

"Let me guess, you're going to be Professor Plum."

"Actually, I was thinking of being Miss Scarlet."

Xander considered for a moment. "Yeah. I can see that." Willow blushed again, her face now matching her character. "Definitely see it."

She slapped him playfully and pushed start game on the computer. As kids, they'd played on the gameboard, but with just two people, she'd always won easily. Not that the computer made that much difference in the winning column.

They played in silence, punctuated with giggles as they unmercifully accused each other of the crime. When Willow finally solved the case, Xander watched in horror as Colonel Mustard was sent to jail.

"It's always me. I always do it."

"Face it Xander, you're destined to become a hardened criminal."

The look on his face disturbed her. His expression of humor blackened, and his face seemed to close down.

"Xander? Xander? Come on, what's wrong?"

"Nothing Will."

She knelt at his feet, leaning on his knees. "Don't lie to me. I can tell when you lie."

* Think, Harris. With your brain. * He demanded of himself. Her torso was tight against his legs and he could feel the soft crush of her breasts. He licked his lips, refusing to look down at her. "I'm not lying."

"Liar." She stood up, smiling wickedly when she heard his sigh of relief. Without thinking of the consequences or motivations, she sat on his lap. "Tell me."

His hand moved of it own volition. He softly stroked the fiery strands of hair back from her face. "You are so beautiful, Will."

"Tell me, Xander. Tell me what's wrong."

"I'm no good for you, you know that? I wouldn't be surprised if I did grow up to be a criminal. Although, living in Sunnydale, I'd be surprised if I grew up."

"How can you say that?" Her shock allowed her to, momentarily, put aside the enjoyment of having him stroke her hair. "You could never be a criminal Xander. You're good. And sweet. And…" She bit her lower lip as she always did when she was nervous. "Besides, if you weren't good for me, I think our parents would have nipped this friendship thing in the bud a long time ago."

"Could they have?"

"Xander…" She leaned forward and met his lips softly. "Stop worrying about what's good and worry about what makes you happy. Us happy."

"You're saying we should just forget about all of this?" He waved one had around the room to encompass all they were up against. "We can't."

"We can. For tonight."

"I look at you Will, and all I want to do is touch you. Kiss you. And more. And I can't. So I don't know if I can play childhood games and pretend…"

"We lost our childhood the minute we met Buffy. I'm not blaming her. Because without her, we would have lost more than that. But, sometimes, I just want to be a kid again."

He looked at the sorrow in her eyes and wanted to kick himself. She was always so strong. She'd held everything together so often and here he was, putting his burden on her already overloaded shoulders. "You sure?"

She nodded, sending a small tear down her cheek.

"All right." Xander picked her up and tossed her onto the bed. Her eyes widened as he followed her, straddling her legs below her knees. "But you're gonna regret it."

And the rest was tickling.

Xander lay on the cool floor, his hand in the air. Willow reached down off the bed to take it in her own. "You may beat me in Clue, Willow, but I got you when it comes to the physical."

"Hey, I think I won. You're the one on the floor." She peered over the edge, her green eyes twinkling. "I thought the rules were whoever stayed on the bed, won."

"No, no, no. It's whoever falls off the bed, wins."

"Sounds like a loser talking to me."

Tugging on her hand, he brought her down on top of him. "I'm not a loser. Not as long as I have you."

She leaned into the kiss he offered her, allowing his arms to snake around her body and hold her close. This was a heaven she could get used to here on the mouth of hell. Pulling back, afraid she'd be unable to stop, she smiled and disengaged herself. "You couldn't get rid of me if you tried."