Take Willow's mom, for example. She told Willow and her dad time and time again that a person shouldn't hold hostility inside them. It festers and grows uglier and uglier until it takes you over. I thought I was doing okay at it though. I really did. I mean, I've seen first hand what happens when you can't control your anger, your hostility. I've seen it first hand…often a little closer than I ever wanted to.

So I've been dealing. I've been beating the shit out of vamps and demons and the punching bag I borrowed from Giles. I've worked really hard to control this aggression that's been building since I saw her. It kills me that I saw her when I did. Everything had been said and done by the time anyone thought to call me, to let me know that someone…someone who was supposed to love her destroyed my Willow.

I trusted him. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, I walked away knowing - I swear that I knew - that Oz would never hurt her. Yet he did. He destroyed a part of her that had been sacred and precious. He took the part of her that believed in fairy tales and crushed it, crushed her spirit and her faith; tore her heart into pieces.

Sure, everyone's quick to point out that he couldn't help it, that he wasn't in control. I have some experience with what that's like. But by running away, he gave in to the wolf inside of him, instead of fighting to keep the man. And the man was who Willow was in love with.

Do you know how much it kills me to say those words? Do you know how much it wrenches my heart to admit that she felt…maybe still feels that way? And do you know how much it hurts not to have been able to protect her? Not even able to avenge her? Buffy and Giles made sure that I knew nothing of what had happened until all the mess was cleaned up, all the words said, all the victims contained, all the suspects cleared.

He was gone.

He had left her by the time anyone thought to inform me that my best friend had been hurt. I mean, I know it's not my job to protect her anymore. She's strong and can take care of herself. But it was his job. I handed it over to him, knowingly, the night she was captured by Faith and the Mayor. I put my trust in him. I put my Willow in his hands.

And he broke her.

"Five gallons."

I look up from the book I'm reading - demonic incantations, symbols and archetypes - that Giles had given me to look into. Staring at the man in front of me, I freeze in disbelief. "Oz."

He looks up from the money in his hands. His eyes widen and he looks hunted. "Xander."

Everything I thought I'd gotten out of my system rushes back to me. Every step Willow has taken to reclaim herself stands out in stark clarity. "Oz."

"How are you?"

I watch his eyes as he tries not to look at me. "Well, I'm working in a gas station, reading up on demons. Obviously, I'm on the top of the world."

He smiles, just a little. "The gang?"

"Good." Anger is still boiling beneath the surface, heating inside me with every inconsequential word.

He pauses, the question he's wanted to ask, the one he's afraid to ask, the one I don't want to answer, on his lips. "And…and Willow?"

"I…" In a lot of ways, I'm glad there's glass between us. I don't want to say the next thing I have to say. I'd rather kick his ass right back out of town. "I can't tell you about Willow. You want to know, you'll have to ask her yourself."

"That's exactly what I was on my way to do." He slips a ten through the hole in the glass. "Thanks." Walking away without his change, he doesn't seem lost anymore.

But I'm suddenly feeling that way.

"Xan? Is that you?" The door swings open and she's standing there, looking buoyant. She grabs me, hugging me tight. "You're late."

"Sorry." My voice is muffled, my face buried in her hair.

"You're not going to believe who came to see me tonight."

"Who?" I step out of her arms, torturing myself, determined to suffer through her happiness.

She giggles and grabs my hands. "Oz! Oz is home, Xander!"

I wonder if she's as oblivious to my pain as I was to hers. "Really?"

"We're all meeting at the Bronze in an hour. Say you'll come?"

"Of course." I look down at her, wishing I didn't see the hope there. "Guess I should go home and change. Eau de gasoline isn't quite the smell I'm going for."

"Really?" She meets my gaze and a wave of intense guilt washes over me. What kind of best friend am I if I can't be happy that she is? "I heard it's all the rage."

Her green eyes are dancing, shining with hope and excitement. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she hasn't spent the last few months getting over Oz. Maybe she's just been accepting that he was gone. "Well, as much as I live to be trendy, I'm still going to opt for the shower."

"You could take one here. I think you've got a duffel bag of stuff here somewhere."

"Group showers? Nah. I got my fill of those in high school during gym." I raise my eyebrows and smile at her. "Unless you and Buffy were offering to keep me company?"

She slaps my arm, slipping into the habits of old friends. It should be a comfort, but it only serves to make me realize that even if she has been moving on, she hasn't been moving towards me. "You're terrible."

"I think I'll head home. Thanks though." I hug her again and head for the door.

"You…you want me to come with you?" She takes a step toward me, touching my arm softly. I close my eyes and inhale deeply. "I mean, I thought we could walk over there together."

"Sure, Wills."

She sighs in relief, grabbing her purse and taking my hand in hers. We walk down to my car, riding over to my house in silence. She's biting her lower lip, concentrating on something. Finally, she looks at me. "Xan?"

"Yeah?" I don't look at her, sure that I don't want to see what's in her eyes.

"I'm scared."

"Scared of what, Wills?" We stop in my driveway and I look over at her. "There's nothing to be scared of. Well, short of vampires, demons, Hellmouths…"

"I'm scared he's going to hurt me again."

I take her hand and hold it tightly in mine. I want to pull her into my arms but I know that I'd be crossing the invisible line that's still between us. "Willow, I won't let him hurt you. Not physically. And…well, you've got to be strong and don't try to push things. If you and Oz are meant to be…if this is the big reconciliation thing, it'll happen on its own terms in its own time. You're not going to be able to force it."

Her green eyes lighten, hope filling them again. "When did you get so smart?"

"I watched you a lot." If only she knew how true that was. If only she had any clue how much I still… But that's neither here nor there. Willow is off limits - in love with the werewolf, no matter that he's hurt her. And I've got Anya, doing the relationship thing.

I just wish it weren't so hard, wish I didn't have these feelings. I mean, did everyone think they just disappeared? Did everyone think that I'd just sacrificed a stable, steady relationship with a girl I loved on a whim? Did everyone think that Willow and I were just passing some extra time?

Well, apparently everyone does. Including Willow.

She used to know everything about me. I mean, she knew when I had a thing for Buffy, she knew before I did that I was crushing hard for Ampata. But this, this emotion that I have for her, well, I guess I'm the only one who sees it, who feels it.

Which is just as well, if the happiness on Willow's face is any indication.

I'm thankful that we still go to the Bronze, even though it's technically a high school hang out. I was afraid that they'd find some place on campus and hang there, excluding non-college boy even more. Not that I'm bitter that I don't see much of my friends anymore. Nope. No bitterness here.

Huh. Even I don't believe me.

Buffy and Willow are out on the dance floor. Riley's supposed to meet us here and, of course, Oz is coming. Which wouldn't be so bad except that it looks like I'm destined to be odd man out. It's kind of strange how, when it was just the three of us, none of us really ever felt left out. And yet now I can't seem to help but feel that way. Not just because they're doing something different, something I'm not. But because it's as if there's no caring about what I'm doing at all. As if, by not going to college, I elected not to be important anymore.

"Hey, Xander." Riley sits down at the table, giving me a smile while he's staring at Buffy. I feel for the guy. Hell, except for the reciprocated emotion, I was the guy. I know what it's like to stare longingly after the swaying body of Buffy Summers. I know what it's like to watch her smile, want to make her laugh. I know. Boy do I know.

"Hey, Riley. How's that covert operation doing?"

He gives me a look and I can't help but grin. Riley has a lot to learn about being in the Scooby gang. I'm about to keep going, keep giving him a hard time when the door to the Bronze opens and my grin fades.

You'd think that after being gone for so long, he'd look different. He'd look more…something. You'd think after destroying the woman who loved him, he'd… Of course, the woman throwing herself into his hug doesn't seem all that destroyed. She seems more like the woman she was before he left, before he slept with some other werewolf.

She seems happy.

I don't hear what Riley's saying to me and I don't even notice as Buffy goes bouncing through my line of sight into his arms. Well, I notice that part a little. But most importantly, no one else notices as I slip off my stool and move through the crowd, finding the back door and leaving the party. As I walk home, more sad than I care to admit, I wonder how long it will take them to notice that I'm gone.

I'm surprised when I wake up. Normally at some point during the night, Anya makes her way into my room and wakes me up, insisting that we have sex. Not complaining about the ritual, mind you, but it's kind of strange that it didn't happen.

Even stranger is the fact that Willow's sitting on the edge of my bed.

And, not so much strange as awkward, is the fact that I'm wearing nothing under the sheet. And it's morning. Did I mention the morning part?

"Hey, Wills."

"You disappeared last night." There's no accusation in her voice. No curiosity either. Not much of anything, to be honest.

"I felt kind of out of place at the reunion." I shrug and make sure the sheet's high enough that there is no chance of anything taking me by surprise. I also tug the blanket up enough that maybe she won't notice anything else. Not that she's looking at me. Not that she's looking at anything but my wall. "Besides, you know how I can be around Oz. I tend to be…less than polite from time to time. Thought it might put a damper on the evening."

"I really wanted you to be there."

Why? So you could see how much it hurts me to know that you love him? I want to ask the question, but I know it would violate our rule. Our unspoken rule about everything that has to stay unspoken between us. "I stayed until I saw you were safely back in his arms."

"Where's Anya?"

"I…I honestly don't know." I sit up a little, wake up a little more, wonder what the hell's going on. "Willow? Why aren't you with Oz?"

"Did you know that wolves mate for life?"

Yeah, thanks for that punch to the gut, Wills. "I'd heard something like that. Mostly during all the reading I did about werewolves when you and Oz first started dating."

"I know you say you don't remember, but when you were a hyena…"

"About that, Wills…"

"Were the things you said what you really felt? What you really meant?"

"No, Wills. An…Animals live completely for the survival of the fittest. You know that. You're the one who forced me to learn it. And you have to admit, to an animal, Buffy would be the fittest."

"Humans are animals too, you know that, right?" She finally looks at me and she seems so different. Not at all what I expected the day after the love of her life came home to her.

"Humans don't just think with their instincts. They think with their hearts and their minds and…"

"He's gone again, Xander."

I knew I should have kicked his ass.

"Yeah, you should have probably."

I look around, finally realizing that I've said that out loud. "What happened?"

She stands up and I'm afraid that she's going to leave, run, refuse to talk to me until she gives me a pointed look. I recognize it after a beat, wondering when I forgot what it meant. I scoot over and she sits beside me, leaning back against the pillows that are still warm from my body.

Okay, I need to stop thinking things like that if I want this…morning occurrence to disappear any time soon.

"He showed up at the Bronze. You saw that. And I went to him. I was so excited, you know? I thought that he was home and so that meant that he was…better, I guess."

"And he wasn't?"

"He is. He says he can control the wolf. He told me about the stuff he'd learned about what he is and who he is and what he can do and what he can control. He told me that he learned that being a werewolf isn't necessarily a curse."

"Did he think it was before?"

"He thought it was something designed to keep him away from me for three days a month." She grins hollowly, not realizing how little, offhand comments like that cut through me. "But now he knows more about his…his destiny, I suppose."

"And his destiny doesn't include a redheaded Wiccan from Sunnydale, California?"

"He asked me to go with him. Asked me to travel the world and explore. Learn who he is right by his side."

My gut drops somewhere near my toes then crawls under the bed to hide, and my morning problem is that swiftly taken care of. "And you're here to say goodbye?"

Her eyes narrow as she looks at me, obviously wondering if I'm paying attention to the conversation. I replay the words over in my mind and I don't see where I've gone off track, so I look back at her completely bewildered.

"No, Xander. I'm not here to say goodbye."

And you're obviously not here to tell me that you love me, I think the words and, as they pass through my mind I hope to God that I haven't said those out loud. "I'm not following this, Wills. I mean, Oz isn't home to stay, so I get that you're sad. Depressed even. Hopefully not thinking of pursuing a vengeance spell against him. But he asked you to go with him, which would indicate lots of feelings still being there, all Willow and Oz-y."

"Lots of feelings," she nods. "Good feelings."

"But good feelings, especially good Oz-y feelings have never, no matter how hard I might have tried, put you in my bedroom before. So you'll have to forgive me for being a little confused."

"He asked me if he could bite me."

I'm out of the bed before I know what I'm doing, fury racing through me. "He WHAT?" I whirl to face her, my body tight with anger and hatred and my brain running at full speed plotting how I'm going to kill the bastard.

Willow's eyes are wide, and at first I think maybe I've scared her. And then I realize it's a hell of a lot draftier than normal in the basement. My brain finally kicking into a gear other than revenge, I grab the blanket off the bed and try to wrap it around my waist. Unfortunately, Willow's actually sitting on it, so I only get enough to hold in front of me.

My blood, so recently boiling, is now coursing through me at a rate of speed that would probably give NASA pause. "Er…"

Willow moves off the bed, allowing me to grab the blanket wholeheartedly and tie it around my waist. Somehow my fury has abated somewhat in the embarrassment, so I just look at her, wondering if my face is as red as hers.

"I said no."

"I wasn't try…"

"Not you. I mean, not…" She blushes even deeper, her skin dangerously pink. She looks absolutely gorgeous. "I told Oz no. I told him that wasn't the life I wanted. I told him that I loved him. And he just gave me a look that said I didn't understand anything. And then he said I didn't love him enough."

"That doesn't sound like Oz." Equilibrium is an important thing. I'm sure I left mine around here somewhere.

"No. I didn't think so either. But then I realize it sort of sounded like…like an animal. Like you did."

Just had it in my grip and she knocks it away from me so easily again. "I never meant to hurt you." I take a step toward her, stopping when I realize the bed's in the way. "If I could take it all back, Wills, you have to know I would."

"All of it?"

Her voice is a whisper, and it works its way along my spine, imbedding itself in my heart. "Just the parts where I hurt you."

"Some of the…some of the good stuff hurt me too."

Maybe it's not just the bed between us. "I don't want to be the person in your life that you remember when you're thinking of the people that hurt you. I want you to remember me when you're thinking about the people who love you. Who…who need you. Who you can count on. I want to be a good memory, Willow."

"You can't."

I think about when Faith strangled me. I think about all the times I've been hit, manhandled, beaten, insulted and crushed. I think about Willow's face when she found out about me and Cordy. I think about her face when she figured out Faith and I had slept together.

Not a single damn one of them hurts me more than those two words.

"Oh."

I turn away from her; not sure I can continue the conversation anymore. I can't be supportive guy when everything that matters to me has just been ripped from my grasp. If she only thinks of me when she thinks of being hurt, then I stand no chance at all. If she only thinks of me like that, if that's all these years have boiled down to for her, then it's over.

She's not my Willow anymore. Simply because I don't deserve her.

"You can't, because relegating you to a memory would mean we were finished." She walks up behind me, giving me an inkling of hope. "And we're not finished, Xander. We won't ever be."

I turn around, maybe too many of my feelings are in my eyes. And I see something in hers that I don't think is just a reflection. Is it there just because I want to see it? Or is it really there, waiting for me to open my eyes, give us a chance, stop living in the past and start making every wrong moment right?

"He really wanted to bite you?"

"Yeah." She's smiling now, just a bit.

"Can't blame him. I always thought you were pretty…tasty looking."

"That's just the hyena talking."

I shrug and throw my arm around her shoulders, hugging her briefly. "That's what all the girls say."

She blushes, maybe wondering if it's true. "He left town this morning. So I don't want you to even be thinking about kicking his ass, okay?"

She's lying. She's horrible at it, but just her words give her away. He's still around. And she's afraid I'll do something stupid like get into a fight with a pacifist werewolf. "Sure thing." I glance at the clock and sigh. "I gotta get to work, Wills. You gonna be okay?"

She nods and I smile at her, leaning over to kiss her nose. It takes us both by surprise, means more than it probably should, considering I have a girlfriend and her boyfriend just left her again. For good maybe, this time. "Yup. Go be a grease monkey."

"Bronze? Tonight? Just the three of us?"

She smiles and I know I've said the right thing. "You're on. I'll tell Buffy."

"And if she hesitates, tell her we can go for a stroll through a cemetery afterwards. You know how much she loves that."

She turns in my grip and hugs me tight around the waist, bringing my problem back full force. Willow feels nice against me. Better than nice. Far more trouble than nice would ever be. "See you tonight, Xan."

"You will. And the dancing will be legendary."

"Right. Wear my steel-toed shoes."

She's gone before I can comment. But not before I can smile.

The gas station's deserted. Not a single car on the lot, but I have a feeling that's going to change any second. Not that I've got any delusions about my prowess with the gas hose…that sounds bad, doesn't it? Anyway, no delusions. I just know he's in town.

And there's going to be a showdown.

It's almost a half-hour later. It's still dead, no business on an early Sunday morning. And he shows up, just like I expect him to. I step out of the booth, wondering if the western music is going to kick in. I feel like Gary Cooper in "High Noon" or Michael J. Fox in "Back to the Future 3". "Oz."

"Xander."

He's looking at me warily, probably wondering what I know. What exactly to say. "I saw Willow this morning."

"She's beautiful in the morning, isn't she?"

Well, I guess we know who got to draw first blood. "I could have sworn I told you not to hurt her. I'm almost positive that I told you how important she was, how much I would hurt you if you ever broke her heart."

"You told me."

"And you did it anyway."

"You weren't much of a threat."

I see now what Willow didn't say, maybe what she implied. Oz wasn't Oz anymore. He was more wolf. Maybe he could control it, but it seemed even more that it controlled him. For a moment, I was thankful that he hadn't bitten her anyway.

"And now? Do I still seem like no threat to you?"

"No threat at all."

I take a step forward as he does, both of us in complete control. Both of us ready to lose control. "You're wrong."

I'm moving before I know it, before he knows it. Maybe he can smell something, but I don't think he was prepared for the attack. He's like a wild dog, snarling at me as we fight. It's a flurry of fists and punches, some that connect and many that don't.

He's smaller and shorter than me, so my reach is better, but he's quick and wiry, so he lands enough to hurt me. As I land a hard left against his jaw, I can feel his right hit me in the ribs, hear the telltale snap of bone.

I kick him away, sending him sprawling onto the ground. I've wanted to kick this guy's ass since the day he took her away from me, even if I didn't deserve her when he did it. I've hated him more than I've ever hated anyone I liked since the day she chose him over me, since the day she walked away from everything we could have meant to one another.

I advance on him, waiting for him to spring like the animal he is. Giles made us all watch tapes of how wolves behave in the wild, just in case we ever had to fight a werewolf - an out of control werewolf. I don't know that Oz is out of control, or if he's in perfect control. He bares his teeth at me as he raises himself up on his hands, preparing to get up.

I walk forward a little more and send my foot into his ribs, kicking him while he's down. He grabs my leg and pulls me down as well and then we're rolling, fighting, punching. No words, nothing but harsh, heavy breathing. We inhale gas fumes, coughing as they fill our lungs, coughing up blood as more and more punches land.

Finally we separate and make our way to our feet, neither quite human now. My eye is cut and bleeding. There's a gash on my forehead that's going to need stitches and the broken rib makes it burn as I breathe. He looks just as bad as I must. Bleeding and broken too. But neither of us is willing to give in, give up. Supposedly we're fighting for Willow right now. I'm punishing him for hurting her; he's punishing me for wanting her.

But it has nothing to do with right now, and everything to do with the resentment that's been building since the day I met him, since the day she fell for him. I don't know when it started for him, maybe the first time he saw me hurt her.

I don't care. I just know that, no matter what; this is a fight I can't lose. More than any fight I ever had with a vampire or demon. Oz won't win.

He can't.

I growl, suprising him, I think, and launch at him, tackling him on the hard asphalt. His head hits the ground with a hard crack and he's dazed. Poised over him, I punch him hard, trying not to hear the crunching as his nose breaks. He shoves me back and I tumble, surprised at his power. He's facing me, staring me in the eyes.

It's a challenge. Maybe the scent of all the blood has finally brought the wolf out to play. I face him, refusing to look away, to blink, to give in. Hours of pretending to be awake in class work to my advantage, but I'm not a wolf, I'm not an animal.

But I am in love with Willow.

We sit there, not moving, not blinking for what seems like hours. My eyes burn from the strain and from the gas fumes, the sunlight and the pain. We sit there, not moving, not blinking, not giving in.

Until he blinks.

It's over in a second and he bows his head, acknowledging my victory. Then he makes his way to his feet, obviously in pain now that it's had a chance to set in, and stumbles to his van. He reaches the door and turns back to me, looking at me one last time.

His voice is strange, changed by his broken nose. "You don't deserve her."

That's the last thing he says to me before he drives out of Sunnydale. And I have to agree with him. I don't deserve her. Not yet.

But you'd be surprised how quickly things can change.