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The Ember That Still Burns


by Pete


PART 1 - Dead Man Walking

"I stay a little longer, as one stays,
To cover up the embers that still burn."
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

As deaths go, it wouldn't have been bad.

They'd tracked the nest down to a warehouse by the waterfront. Not an abandoned warehouse, unfortunately. It was jam-packed with the bloodsuckers, who went apeshit at the sight of the Slayer and her crew. He dimly remembered Riley taking out a couple with one of his blasto- guns or whatever those things were. Tara hung to the back, casting spells when she thought it was safe.

He'd been in the thick of it. It was easier to forget his life that way, easier to forget the shit jobs and the humiliation and the dreams. Easier to forget Anya and Willow and trying to figure out what was going on inside his head. Easier to forget his family. He allowed his mind to become completely occupied with one task--Kill Vampires.

At least, until he'd seen the one with the forklift that was headed for Willow. Then he reverted to his usual prime directive-- Protect Willow. She was locked in a struggle with a vamp and was just about to stake him when the forklift veered towards her.

He called out her name as he ran. Of course, she didn't hear it. She plunged the stake into the vamp's chest and turned, smiling, pleased with herself. The smile disappeared as she saw the forklift barrelling towards her.

Xander leapt, his momentum carrying him forward, pushing her out of the way. He had just enough time to see that she was safe when the thing hit him.

As it rammed into him, an old line from Mystery Science Theater bounced into his head--Joel and the Bots singing "He triiiiied to kill me with a forklift--Ole'!" Not quite so funny now. He hoisted himself up just in time to not be crushed flat against a row of wooden boxes, but he caught a nasty blow to the head that sent shinies dancing across his vision.

The vamp had been on him in moments. He slashed at the thing with a stake, but he must not have hit the heart. Rule number two of the Scooby Gang--if you don't hit the heart, it just pisses them off. (Rule number one was, of course, when in doubt, try blowing it up.) The vamp had gone for his head, smashing it into the heavy iron of the forklift, over and over.

Before slipping into his comfortable concussion, he'd seen a flash of orange as Willow slew the thing. Nice...shot...

"Xander," she called out from a million miles away. "Stay awake! You've got to stay awake!"

Ah, what do you know? You're not the boss of me. Somewhere, he realized she was right, he had to get up...but his head wanted to lay down, just lay down...

She yelled something into his ear from behind a few feet of cotton. Couldn't have been that important. He surrendered to the ease of unconsciousness.

Now he stood over his own body.

That will wake you up first thing in the morning.

He'd sat up, stretched and hopped out of his hospital bed, feeling great. Around him was the beeping of machinery. He took a look; EKG machines, heart monitors, the machine that goes "ping..."

"Wow," he muttered. "I musta been in bad shape."

There was a soft snort from behind him. He turned and saw Willow sitting there, her head lolling to the side, asleep. He smiled. She looked so sweet like that...

Then he saw whose hand she was holding.

Alexander Lavelle Harris lay in his hospital bed, eyes closed, unmoving.

He screamed. Loudly. Willow didn't stir.

Gingerly, he tried to touch his body and found he couldn't. It was like there was hard, slippery plastic surrounding him.

He looked around for a reflective surface. Over the sink, he saw a mirror. He rushed to it...

No reflection.

"No," he said. "No, no, no..."

Giles walked into Room 370 and was saddened to see Willow Rosenberg asleep in a chair. He was saddened not by her loyalty to her friend, but at the hopelessness of the situation. He had seen cases like this before. He did not believe Xander would be waking up.

Was that cold, he wondered? Callous? Or just realistic?

Maybe he just didn't want to allow himself hope.

"Willow," he murmured, touching the girl on the shoulder. "Go home. You're exhausted."

"Mmm," she mmmed, sitting up and gasping at the pain in her neck. "Anything?"

"You'd know better than me," Giles replied. "Please. You should go home."

"No," she said. It was the third day of this, and Giles supposed he should know better than to ask by this point. Buffy, Riley, Tara...even Anya had tried to convince her to go home and rest. Every time had come a flat refusal; no emotion at all, just a simple statement of fact. She wasn't going anywhere.

"At least go to the lounge for a bit," he said. "Get some breakfast. Freshen up."

"But what if he wakes up while I'm gone?" she asked quietly.

"He--" Giles cut himself off before saying 'he won't.' "I'll find you."

"You promise?"

"I promise," he said gently.

"Okay." She rose miserably and stumbled; her legs were fast asleep. He helped her get walking, then took her place in the chair.

"Hey, Giles," Xander said. Or, at least, his ghost did.

Because that was what he was, right? If you're a thing that walks around and can walk through walls and nobody can see you or hear you, you must be a ghost. He had figured that out after about an hour of screaming for Willow to hear him, listen to him, but nothing.

"So," he said. "Guess Dad was right, huh? 'Life ends here with us.' Least I didn't die in the basement... Unless you have a spell or something to get me out of this. You, um, you are working on something like that, right?"

Giles flipped through a newspaper until he came to the comics section.

"All right," he said to Xander's body. "Erm...I think Liberty Meadows is the one you like, yes?"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Here we go...right. In the first panel, the, er, the pig is asking a young woman for a date. And in the second panel, she hits him in the face, knocking him away. And..." Giles looked closer at the comic. "Well, I don't understand that joke at all..."

Xander had to grin. Comedy was not pretty, but in Giles' hands it could strip the paint off a car from fifty feet.

"Let's try Garfield...oh, dear, let's not. Um...perhaps I should try reading the news. Fire Sweeps Across Los Alamos..."

Willow shuffled back into the room.

"Anything?" she asked.

"Not yet," Giles said.

"Not yet," Xander said. "That's good. Keep hope alive, G-man."

"I can sit up with him some more..."

"No, you can't," Giles said. "There's an empty bed over there. Use it."

"Giles--"

"Willow, you've been here for three days. If you're not going to go home, then you're at least going to get some sleep."

Willow nodded noncommittally and walked over to the empty hospital bed. She took off her shoes and collapsed onto it.

"Now then," Giles said in a hushed voice. "A fire set by the National Park Service continues to rage out of control in Nevada, as..."

Xander walked over to the bed where Willow lay. He crouched next to it so that he was eye-level with her. She was staring at Xander's body, her face twisted with misery, tears streaming silently from her eyes.

"Will," he whispered. "Come on. Don't cry."

Her lips trembled as she watched him, as though she were trying to will him into consciousness.

"Please," he said. "Please. Close your eyes."

She blinked once; then her eyes closed, but the tears continued to flow from under her eyelids, until sleep claimed her.

It was a few hours later when Anya came in. She carried a McDonald's bag, which she handed to Giles.

"Lunch," she said simply.

"Ah. So there weren't any places along the way that actually serve food?"

"You don't want it?"

"I didn't say that." He opened the bag. "Where's the fries?"

"Oh, they...uh...forgot. The fries."

Giles looked at her suspiciously and pulled a hamburger from the bag. "There's been no change."

"Buffy's hunting down the rest of that nest," Anya said, pulling up another chair. She stared at Xander carefully, her face betraying no emotion.

For a few minutes, they sat in silence.

"He's not waking up, is he," Anya said quietly.

"We don't know that," Giles said. "The doctors said he could wake up at any time. It's hard to..." He met the former demon's stare. "It doesn't look good."

"Hey!" Xander yelled.

"Are you sure" Anya asked.

"We can't know for sure. And you are not to repeat what I've said to anyone, is that clear?"

Anya nodded and stood up.

"I'm gonna, um..." She rose and rushed out of the room.

Xander followed her, passing through the door and running down the hall, until he found her in the women's bathroom.

Anya was sitting in one of the stalls, staring at the floor. Suddenly, she burst into loud, heaving sobs.

"An," he said. "Come on, don't--"

Then, just as suddenly as she had begun, she stopped. She rubbed the tears from her eyes and looked up at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I can't do this. I can't..." Her lower lip trembled, and she seemed to force it into stillness. "I can't feel this way, Xander. I can't. I can't handle it."

Xander looked down at the ground.

"I hope you can hear me," she said.

"Yeah, An," he said sadly. "I hear you."

"You know I adore you, but...I can't come back here. It hurts too much to see you like that...it..." A single sob escaped her lips. "I have to go."

She stood up.

"Please wake up soon."

Control was in her bearing as she walked out.

"Bye, An," he said after her.

She should have run.

She should have gotten up and run from this hospital, because now when she closed her eyes, all she could see was him in that damned bed, his face bruised, his lips split. She didn't want to remember him like that after he was...

She couldn't make the word "gone" appear in her head. He was her Xander. He couldn't--he couldn't.

"Willow?" Soft, familiar hands on hers. She cracked an eye open. Tara was standing over her.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Fine," she said hoarsely.

"You wanna go home, maybe s-sleep in your own bed?" Willow smiled a little at that. Tara's stutter always emerged in situations like this.

"I'm okay," she said. She looked around the room; Buffy, looking battered and dirty, was sitting in the chair now, standing guard over her fallen comrade. "Anything?"

"Sorry, Will," she replied. "If it's any consolation, Riley and I dusted the last of the vamps from that night."

"Non-comforting," Willow replied. "But thanks."

"Go back to sleep," Buffy said.

"I don't think I can."

Tara was doing something; there was an odd smell in the air, and she felt something being sprinkled over her. Tara circled the bed and gingerly lay herself on Willow's other side. She lay an arm across her friend's midsection.

"It's okay," she whispered. "You can sleep."

She felt her eyelids growing heavy again.

"You can sleep," Tara repeated.

"Wuzzat smell?" Willow murmured. "'Msleepy."

"It's okay," Tara said. "I just whipped up a little essence of sleepsand. It'll give you a restful sleep. You need rest."

"'Kay." Willow lay her head down, her vision going black.

But she could still see Xander in his bed, dimly outlined against the darkness.

Xander was lying on top of his own body when the new visitors came.

He'd spent all day trying to force his way back in, not knowing how he'd gotten out in the first place. He had to wake up. Every time he saw Willow's face, he knew he had to wake up. But he'd been at it for hours, and now he was exhausted. He hadn't even known it was possible for a ghost to get exhausted.

It was about six o'clock now, the sun just going down. Riley and Buffy were sitting and watching while Willow and Tara dozed quietly in the other hospital bed. Anya had left the hospital and Giles was off researching something. And now someone new was added to the mix.

Cordelia Chase stepped inside the hospital room with as much timidity as she could muster. She walked over to Buffy and nodded in greeting.

"Thanks for the call," she whispered.

"I thought you'd want to know."

"Oh, good," Xander muttered. "Cordy's here. That's great, really. Did Deadboy tag along too?"

"Angel wanted to come, but he's hip-deep in an investigation right now. Besides, the whole daytime thing..."

"That's okay," Riley said quickly. "Wouldn't want to disturb him." This earned him a little glare from Buffy.

"I always liked you, Riley," Xander said.

"So when is he gonna snap out of it?" Cordy asked.

"We're not sure," Riley said. "Could be days, could be weeks...could be never."

"It won't be never," Buffy said.

"Yeah!" Cordy said. "He'll wake up. He has to."

Xander sat up and smiled at his ex.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

"I mean, someone has to be the donut guy, right? I think Demon Chick's a little too new to handle the responsibility."

"Wow," Xander said. "You don't even wait for the body to get cold, do you?"

"Watch it," Buffy said.

"You know I'm kidding. How's Willow taking it?"

"She's..." Buffy cast a look at the two sleeping witches. "She's not good. She's blaming herself. Xander was pushing her out of the way of a vamp when this happened..."

"Who's the new girl?"

"That's Tara. She's Willow's girlfriend."

Cordelia looked at the two of them a bit confusedly.

"Girlfriend in what sense?"

"Guess."

"Wow!"

"Yeah, you think you're surprised," Xander muttered.

Cordelia pulled up a chair and settled in.

"He's gonna be okay, Buffy," Cordy said. "He doesn't quit."

"I hope you're right," Buffy replied.

"Yeah, me too," Xander said. He hopped off of his body and strolled around the room. "But whatever Giles is looking at, I hope it's something that's gonna help."

"I'll say," said a voice at the door. "You're gonna need it."

Xander turned to the door and saw a shortish, dark-haired man standing there. He wore a leather jacket, khaki pants, and an astonishingly ugly shirt. He gave Xander a friendly nod.

"Name's Doyle," the guy said, smiling. "Sorry I'm late. I woulda been right behind the Princess there, but there was this gal a couple rooms down gettin' a sponge bath, and you don't see that every day. So. How're yeh?"

***

PART 2 - Won't You Open Up Your Eyes?

"True love is like ghosts, which everyone talks about but few have seen."--Francois, Duc de La Rochefoucauld

"So lemme get this straight," Xander said. He and Doyle were seated at a table in the lounge. "You're Cordelia's...what, guardian angel?"

"Guardian spirit, I guess ye'd call it," Doyle replied. "I died a few months back, thought I was headed to my eternal reward, yeah? 'Cept the Powers That Be had other plans. Now, see, the Princess there, she lived with a ghost."

"Probably the only roommate she could get..." They moved their hands as one of the cleaning staff sprayed their table with Windex.

"It's a long story. Anyway, he was sorta holdin' my place as guardian spirit. When I died, he got to go on to the next life, and I got to stick around. Where she goes, I go."

"Don't envy ya, man," Xander said, smiling ruefully.

"Hey, did you ever get to watch her shower?" Doyle asked, smirking. "Anyway, that's my story. Let's get back to yours. What exactly happened to ye?"

"I got beaten up by a vamp. And nearly killed with a forklift."

"Ole'."

"Yeah, that's what ran through my head too! I was out for a couple of days, I guess, and when I woke up, I was Xander the Friendly Ghost."

"Weird," Doyle replied. "Usually in a case like this, the spirit doesn't stick around...unless somethin's keepin' ya here."

"Something? Like what?"

"Something or someone. Unfinished business. Maybe a soulmate."

"I don't have..." Xander trailed off. He thought about it for a moment. "A soulmate," he murmured.

"Well, yeah, but that's kinda rare, y'know?" Doyle said. "It does happen, though."

A small smile appeared on Xander's face.

"Wow. Soulmates. I knew it wasn't a fluke!"

"What?"

"Uh...never mind," Xander said. "I just realized who's keeping me here." He shook his head, the smile growing wider. "Soulmates..."

"Lucky man," Doyle said.

"Not yet," Xander replied. "So how do I get back into my body?

It's like it's closed off or something. I can't even touch myself."

They considered that turn of phrase for a moment.

"Let's pretend I didn't say that."

"Oookay."

"So what's it like?" Xander asked. He and Doyle walked the hallways of Sunnydale Hospital. Xander didn't want to go back to his own deathwatch anytime soon.

"Bein' dead?" Doyle considered. "Well, I mean, ya miss the biggies. Food and sex."

"Food and sex are good," Xander replied solemnly.

"But, y'know, it's got its own rewards."

"Like?"

"Well, the shower thing, fer one. Erm...autonomy. Peace an' quiet--very peaceful, bein' dead. Uh... 'kay, I'll be honest, it's not got much to recommend it, at least as far as bein' a ghost goes. The shower thing is pretty much the only perk."

"Terrific. That's it? How are you supposed to guardian anybody like that?"

"Well, I'm no' helpless or anything, ya know," Doyle said defensively. "When I tell them something, it comes through as kind of a subliminal thing, ya know? Like I give them ideas. And--"

He was cut off as an orderly walked through him. Doyle squirmed, disgusted. The orderly stumbled for a moment, then continued on.

"Eeeeuuuch!" Doyle groaned. "I hate that!"

"Did that hurt?"

"Nah, it's just...it's kinda intimate when someone walks through ya. I mean, they're basically touchin' yer soul, yeah?" He smirked and ran back towards the orderly. When he was within range, he reared back and fetched the orderly a swift kick in the ass. The orderly jumped, shocked, and looked around to find no one there.

"And you can touch things," Doyle said, gasping. "But it takes a hell of a lot of will power. Ta be honest, I probably shouldn'ta done that, but it was too good to pass up."

"Huh," Xander said. "So they can hear me."

"After a fashion. It might take 'em a while, though. You gotta really focus yer will to get 'em to pay attention."

"But how do I get back to my body?"

"Beats hell outta me," Doyle said. "The non-touching thing, that's weird, man. Listen, I'll tell ye what--I'll see if I can get some answers from the Other Side, yeah?"

"Can you do that?"

"Sure," Doyle said. "I might be a few hours or so; there's this weird time-flow thing between here and there, ya know?"

"Well thanks, man. Glad you showed up."

"No problem. Stay close to yer body. This might just go away on its own."

"I'm fine," she'd said to Tara. "I'm all rested. Honestly."

"You're sure?" Tara had asked, looking concerned.

"Positive."

"Only fools are positive."

"Are you sure?" she'd asked, smiling reluctantly.

"I'm positive."

And they'd kissed, and Tara had left, and now she was alone with him, listening to the steady beep-beep-beep of his heart.

Willow rubbed his hand, as though that were all that was required to return him to consciousness.

She looked at his face. He looked...fake. As though someone had replaced her best friend with a wax figure. The bruises were just starting to heal from the beating he'd received.

Because of her.

No. No no no. That way lay madness, or at least hysterical sobbing. She had to be strong for him. Think of something else. Anything else.

The beeping reminded her of a song she'd heard Giles playing once. "Dear Prudence," by the Beatles. Under her breath, she started to sing.

"Dear Prudence...won't you come out to play? Dear Prudence... greet the brand new day. The sun is up...the sky is blue...it's beautiful...and..."

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to trap the tears that were so desperate to escape. "And so are you," she finished.

Xander sat next to her, his heart breaking.

"They don't think you're gonna wake up," Willow said. "None of them. Not even Buffy, not really. You know, you could make 'em all look real dumb if you woke up right now."

Xander's body didn't move.

"Seriously," she said. "Plus you might help me get rid of this soul-crushing guilt I seem to have acquired."

"This isn't your fault," he said. Maybe she would believe it; maybe she could hear him.

"You're always doing this," she said after a moment, her voice choked. She smiled bitterly and looked at the floor. "You always--you throw yourself into the line of fire, Xander..."

When she looked back up, the tears were streaming from her eyes. She glared at his body, furious with him, furious with herself.

"Nobody asked you to do that," she said. "Nobody told you..."

"They didn't have to," he said. "You know that."

She fell silent again.

"Will...if anything ever happened to you, I couldn't live with myself."

"I need you," she whispered.

Xander stood and walked around his body, prodding it.

"Come on," he muttered. "Lemme in. Let me in."

He pounded on his chest ineffectually.

"Let me IN, dammit!"

"You have to wake up," Willow said. She stood and paced for a moment. "Look, you...you don't have a choice here! You gotta wake up!"

Xander looked at her, surprised.

"That...I think you said that to me once," Willow said. "I'm not sure. It's like I can hear it inside my head but I can't figure out where it's coming from."

She walked over to his body and laid her hands on either side of his face.

"I need you," she said. "I miss you so much, Xander, and if...if anything...I couldn't live with myself, Xander. So wake up, please."

Xander's body didn't stir.

"Please," she keened.

Nothing.

"I need someone to tell me a joke, Xander," she said. "I need someone to listen to all my problems, and, and somebody to tell me all his problems, and then we can solve them together...I need to wake up and meet you somewhere, because then the day can begin, and..."

She dissolved into quiet sobs, laying her head down on his chest.

"I'm trying, Will," he said. "I'm trying."

"I love you," she said, and the words hit him like 16 tons of rose petals.

"I love you too," he said before he knew what he was doing. "I mean...no, that is what I meant." He laughed bitterly. "Not that you can hear me or anything."

"I love you, and, and I miss you and I need you and please wake up, Xander, please..." She moved her head and kissed his lips.

"Oh, sure, wait until I'm out of my body to do that," Xander said.

"You have to wake up."

"You know, it'd be funny if I woke up calling for Oz, huh?" He thought for a moment. "Okay, not really. I'm sorry. You should watch it with that 'I love you' stuff. It kinda just...you know, hits you from out of nowhere, but in a really really good sort of..." He shook his head. "Will..."

"Wake up," she whispered.

He reached out to stroke her head. As he tried, his hand slipped through her hair, into her head. The sensation was electric. It was like receiving an extremely pleasant shock.

Willow stood upright, gasping. Xander jumped backwards, stumbling into his body. Willow looked around, wondering what had just happened.

"Xander?" she whispered.

She held her position for a long moment, then sank back into the chair. Her body still tingled. That was like...like...what was that? She'd never felt anything like it in her life...she could taste sugar on her tongue, she smelled apples and old paper...

"Xander?" she asked again.

She listened for some kind of sign. Nothing.

Then...

"Nnnngh."

A soft moan escaped Xander's lips. Her eyes widening, she grabbed his hand and held it tight.

"Xander?! Xander! If you can hear me, squeeze my hand! Do you hear me? Squeeze my hand, Xander!"

The door to the room opened and an angry-looking nurse entered.

"Miss, please, we agreed to let you stay but you're going to have to be--"

"Shut up!" Willow barked. "He's trying to say something!"

"Unnngh," Xander unnnghed. He squeezed Willow's hand feebly.

"Holy--I'll get a doctor!" the nurse said, rushing out of the room.

"Xander, listen to me, you're almost there," Willow babbled. "You're almost there, come on, come to me, I'm right here, Xander, I'm right here..."

His eyes opened.

"Will," he said, his voice a rasp.

She broke out laughing and crying, and she kissed him.

"Oh, thank God," she said. "I thought...I thought that--"

"I love you too," he said, his eyes downcast. "I love you too, Willow."

Her heart began alternately jumping up and down with glee and smacking itself in the head.

"I love you, Xander," she said. "Now stay awake. The doctor's going to be in here any minute."

"He's awake?" Giles asked. The Scoobies were assembled outside her room.

"When can we see him?" Anya asked.

"Not for a while," Willow said. "They're running a CAT scan on him right now; I think they're going to be doing tests for most of the rest of the night."

"But he's okay," Anya said. "He's awake. He's talking."

"Yeah, Anya," Willow said. "He's awake."

She sat down, her legs not quite supporting her.

"He's awake," she murmured, almost to herself.

"Are you all right?" Tara asked. "You seem a little..."

"I'm fine, Tara," Willow said. "I'm great."

They sat down and continued to talk about the amazing recovery.

What none of them could see, none of them could hear, was Xander's "ghost," standing in the middle of the group, screaming.

"Willow!" he yelled. "You've got to listen! That's not me in there! Will, you gotta hear me! That's not me! THAT'S NOT ME!"

***

PART 3 - Poisonous Lookalike

"Has anyone ever believed in you as much as she believes in me?" --James Patrick Kelly, "The Propogation of Light in a Vacuum"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Doyle materialized in the hallway outside Room 370 in Sunnydale General and braced himself for a difficult conversation. The kid was not gonna like what he had to say.

"Hey, Xander," he said as he slipped through the wall. "I..."

Xander's ghost was pressed against a wall, staring horrified at the bed.

Sitting in the bed, nonchalantly eating Jello, was Xander's body.

"Ah," he said. "You know already." He walked over to Xander's spirit. "Kid?"

"Doyle?" Xander said in a tremulous voice.

"Yeah?"

"I have many questions here, but they're pretty much all variations on 'what the fuck,' so...WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"Calm down."

"Calm down?! My body is moving around all by itself!"

"Not all by itself," Doyle said gravely. "It's been possessed. Basically, you've got a squatter."

"...WHAT?!"

"Whatever it is took up residence in yer bod there while you were unconscious. That's why you couldn't get back in. Whatever it is, it spent a hell of a lot of will making sure this body would be in its power when it woke up."

Doyle walked over to the body and peered into its eyes.

"Oh, yeah. Definitely a squatter. You're possessed, all right."

"But...by what? Or who?"

"Beats me. Has he said anything, or..."

"I'll say he did!" Xander yelled. "He, he told Willow he loved her! Or I loved her! Or something! Why the hell would a squatter do that?"

Doyle looked at him in confusion.

"I don't know," he finally said. "I mean, when I heard possession, I assumed a demon of some kind. But this..."

They looked at the body for a moment, which went placidly on eating the Jello.

"It doesn't matter," Xander finally said. "How do we get it out?"

"Well, the good news is, its guard'll be down now that it's awake. Have ya tried touching it?"

"Not yet," Xander admitted.

"Go ahead. I got your back."

Xander did his best impression of a deep breath, reached out, and touched his own shoulder--

The chase, the hunt, running through the forest

The fear of the prey, rich and delicious

Running, running, hot breath upon the prey's neck

Stretch the jaw, bare the tooth

The death-cry of the prey

Meat, sweet and juicy, the blood runneth over

Meat meat meat MEAT MEAT MEAT MEAT

"GAH!" Xander leapt backward, his hand shaking.

"What? What is it?"

"I touched it...I touched it and--" He struggled to find the words. "It was like...meat and running."

"Meat and running?"

"That's all I can remember." Xander looked down at his hand. "Should I...I mean, should I try to get back in, or--"

The body was looking around, confused. It stuck out its tongue, as though trying to place the taste.

"Aw, shite," Doyle muttered. "Come on. We better get scarce."

"Why?" Xander whispered.

"It's looking for us. Looking for you. It just got a little taste of your soul."

The body sniffed the air, trying to discern them that way. Xander was torn between a desire to tear whatever it was away from his body, and sudden, icy fear. His body licked its lips, as though anticipating a taste of something.

Meat, perhaps.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Mmmmm," Willow mmmmmed as she snuggled against Tara's back. Sometime during the night, they had tossed aside the covers, and now they lay in a spooning position, sharing their warmth.

"Hey," Tara said. She kissed Willow's hand, which was slung across her chest, and turned over to face her. "You slept well."

"Yeah," Willow said noncommittally. The sun shone through the window onto Tara's half of the bed, lending her skin a kind of incandescence.

"Something's wrong," Tara said, stating it as a fact. She lay a hand on the crook of Willow's waist.

"No," Willow replied. "Everything's right. It's just...I think there's too much right."

"How can there be too much right?" Tara whispered.

Willow looked at the worry on her lover's face and began to deeply despise herself.

"You know that I love you, right?" she asked.

"Yes," Tara said. "And I love you." She paused. "This isn't going to be a happy conversation, is it."

"I'm not going to lie to you," Willow said. "I'm not going to keep things from you. I tried that once before and everything got screwed up, so I'm going to try something different and actually be honest for once."

"Okay."

"Last night...I told Xander I loved him."

Tara's expression didn't change.

"Why?" she finally asked.

"Because I do love him." She closed her eyes. "It's...the two of us have these feelings, Tara, and they've never gone away. Every once in a while, I think they're gone, but then I see Anya and I get this pang of jealousy, or he does something nice and I remember what I saw in him in the first place, or..."

"Or he saves your life and you almost lose him."

"Something like that."

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"No," Willow said. "No. I'm in love with you."

"But you're in love with him too."

"Well, yeah, but...I'm with you now."

Tara sighed and kissed her.

"I love you," she said again. "But I don't want to be the reason you're unhappy."

"You could never be the reason I was unhappy." She kissed Tara back. "Look...we'll figure it out, okay? I'll go down there today and we'll figure it out."

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"I don't like leaving that whatsit alone," Xander muttered as he paced down the hallway.

"It'll be fine. Visiting hours don't start for a bit yet." Doyle ran a hand through his hair, shaken. "Cripes, man. That was creepy."

"You think that was creepy? You should have gotten a taste of..." Xander shuddered. "It's gotta be some kind of demon."

"Yeah, but...the love thing is off, man. Doesn't make any sense. I don't know what could--" Doyle shook his head. "Doesn't matter. What we need to do is get you some quick training."

They stopped in front of a water fountain.

"All right," Doyle said. "Turn it on."

"How?"

"Just try it."

Xander shrugged and placed his foot on the fountain pedal. It faded through the aluminum and dipped into the floor below.

"All right," Doyle said. "Now I want ya to concentrate. 'Stead of pressin' down on the pedal with your foot, I want ya to visualize the pedal going down. Close yer eyes."

"Yes, Obi-Wan."

"Hey, this works, all right? Close yer eyes."

Xander did as he was told.

"Now picture yourself pressing the pedal down."

He took a deep breath and saw it happening; his foot pressing the pedal, water spurting from the nozzle of the fountain.

He heard it and opened his eyes; a thin trickle of water splashed away down the fountain's drain.

"Saaaaay!" Xander said.

"Right. Now try openin' that door..."

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The door opened and Willow stepped inside. She was momentarily alarmed to find Xander asleep in his bed.

"Xander?" she whispered as she walked up to him. Gingerly, she reached out a hand to touch his shoulder. "Xander, are you--"

She gasped as Xander's hand shot out from beneath the covers and grabbed her wrist. His eyes snapped open, glaring; then they softened when he saw her.

"Hey," he said. "Sorry."

"That's okay," Willow replied. "I"m a little early. Um...can I get that hand back anytime soon?"

"Hmm?" He looked at her hand quizzically. "Oh, yeah. Sure. Here." He released his grip. "I'm glad you're here."

"Well, good. I'm glad you're here. And awake." She pulled up a chair and sat down. "How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts. And I'm starving. Other than that, I guess I'm okay...now that you're here."

Willow couldn't help but smile at that.

"Do you feel up to talking about that?" she asked. "Because I want to get some things worked out with you, but I don't want to do it if you're feeling confused or anything."

"Oh, hey, my mind is sharp. Like a steel...one of those things you catch animals in." He sat up. "You wanna walk?"

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"No good," Xander said as his hand drifted through the door for the fifth time.

"Look, ya just gotta concentrate!" Doyle replied. "See yerself slamming that door!"

"I've seen it! I just...I don't know what it is, I just can't."

"Yeah?" Doyle moved in close to Xander, looked in his eyes. "Right now, there's a thing in your body with designs on the woman you love. Yer soulmate. What are you gonna do when he reached out with those big hairy meathooks of yours and starts gropin' her, eh?"

Xander said nothing.

"That's right," Doyle continued. "Probably up there right now plotting how he's gonna sweet talk her right out of her knickers, then grab her by those pink little--"

SLAM. The door smashed into its frame, rebounding with terrific force. One of its hinges came loose, and the wire glass section shattered.

Doyle looked at it.

"Right," he said shakily. "Well, that's the general--hey! Come back here!"

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They walked down the hallway, Xander in pajamas and a robe.

"So has anyone else come to see you? Cordelia, maybe?"

"Who?"

"Cordelia. You know, your ex, overly talkative, air of superiority..."

"Ohhhh, right. No, I think she said she was going back to the hotel to catch up on sleep. Which for her probably means, like, a week or something."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I just might be a little slow for a while. Blow to the head, y'know?" He smiled and held out his hand to her.

"Okay," Willow said, her fingers interlacing with his, an easy habit to pick up. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," Xander replied. "Where are my parents, by the way?"

"Your parents?"

"Yeah."

"They didn't come. They never come to this sort of thing, you know that."

"...well, yeah, I know," he said hastily. "I just thought that, you know, an actual coma might drum up some business."

"Oh," Willow said. "Anyway...I want to talk to you about what happened last night."

"Last night?"

"Yeah." She rubbed her eyes with her free hand. "Xander...when you told me you loved me...that was the best thing and the worst thing that ever happened to me."

"It was?"

"And, and not because I don't believe you, or think it's a fluke or anything, but because I do love you. But I love Tara, too. And now...I have no idea what to do. I mean, I know what I have to do, I have to make a choice." She stopped and turned to him. "She's been really good for me, Xander."

"I know."

"She's been sweet and loving and comforting and I think she really understands me and...I do love her. But when I look at you..."

"Willow," he said, laying his hands on her shoulders. "You don't need to say anything."

"I don't?"

"I understand what you're going through," he continued. "Look, I'm not going to pressure you or tell you what to do. You decide for yourself. I'll...I'll just be here waiting."

It should have been a relief to hear that from him.

And it wasn't.

"What about Anya?" she asked.

"Anya who?" he asked, confusedly.

"Anya. Your girlfriend. Xander, are you sure you're--"

"No, no, I meant that to be funny, like 'Anya who?'' He grinned. "No, I don't think Anya's going to be too much of a consideration."

"Uh huh," Willow said, nodding. "Look, I have to go. Um...thanks for saying what you said."

"No problem," he said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Willow said, backing away. "Fine. I just have to go, y'know, do something." She turned around and headed back to Xander's hospital room.

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The door was slammed open with less force this time. Xander stormed in, spoiling for a fight.

"All right, you...you...guy who isn't here." He looked around. "Shit! Doyle!"

"Hey!" Doyle said, coming up behind him. "You gotta calm down, kid, you're not gonna beat...a guy who isn't here...like that. Where the hell is he?"

"I don't know, I don't know!" Xander yelled. "Look, let's check out the floor. You take the left, I'll take--"

He stopped.

Willow had just run in. She slammed the door shut and locked it behind her.

They watched in silence as she looked around, as though she were searching for them.

"You're still here, aren't you?" she whispered.

"Oh my God," Xander said, a huge, relieved grin crossing his face. "Oh, my God, she knows!"

"Because that can't be you," she continued. "It can't be. He's too...he's saying everything I want to hear, Xander, and that's not you. You always tell me what I need to hear." Her hands were shaking as she swept her hair out of her face. "Last night, when I...when we...I felt something. You did something to me, and I felt you. I knew you were in the room.

"If you're here, Xander, you've gotta let me know."

Xander looked to Doyle for confirmation. Doyle nodded.

Xander stepped up to her, until he was almost touching her. He raised his hands, tried to decide where best to make contact...but there was only one choice.

"One of these days," he whispered, "I'm gonna do this and it's not gonna be a matter of life and death."

With that, he leaned forward and kissed her.

For a long moment, neither of them moved...

Sugar on my tongue

Fresh apples

Light and sound from a movie screen

The smell of books and strange herbs

Your hands on mine

Nights in your room

Love for you, long dormant

Love for you, fierce and unexpected

Love you Xander

Love you Will

She broke away, gasping, crying, laughing, shaking.

"It's you," she said.

"It's me," he replied.

"Soulmates," Doyle said. "Whaddaya know."

"Oh my God, it's you, you're here! I knew it!" She grinned; then the smile disappeared. "But...but what's out there? And what happened to you?"

"Well, we think it's--"

"She can't hear ya," Doyle said. He looked around. There was a little alcove with a sink and mirror in the room. "Pen!"

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As Willow was communicating with the great beyond, Tara was just meeting Anya in the lobby.

"Hey," Tara said. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Anya replied. "Absolutely nothing is up. It's all down, in fact."

"What's the matter?" Tara asked as they walked to the elevators.

"Nothing," Anya replied as she hit the up button. And hit it again. And again. And again and again and--

Tara reached out and touched her hand.

"What's the matter?" she asked again.

"He's going to hate me," Anya said. "I left him...I left him to die and now he hates me."

"You didn't leave him to die," Tara replied. "You just didn't happen to be there when he woke up."

"I should have been there." She looked at Tara with clouded eyes. "I couldn't take it, seeing him like that..."

"Anya, I'm sure he doesn't hate you. Just relax. Once you talk to him, you'll see he's back to his old self."

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"Xander?" Willow asked. "Can you--"

She stopped.

A pen was levitating towards the bed.

She watched, fascinated, as the sheets of the bed were smoothed. The pen began to scratch its way across the fabric.

G...o...s...t.

"Ghost has an h," she commented. The pen twirled with annoyance. "Well, it does. Okay. A ghost. Possession! Oh, that's a whole bunch of no good...do you know who it is?"

The pen drew a question mark on the sheets.

"Okay. All right. I'm going to go get some help." She was about to turn to go, but the pen waved frantically. She watched as it went back to the sheets.

Before her eyes, the pen drew a cartoon heart and the letter U. She reached out and touched it, her fingers trembling...then she withdrew.

"I love you too," she said. "No matter what happens next. I'll be back."

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They missed each other by about five minutes. Tara and Anya walked down the hall towards Xander's room, both of them trepidatious.

"So why are you here?" Anya asked.

"I just want to check up on everybody," Tara replied.

"Everybody? Wait a second, is Willow here?"

"No."

The girls both yelped in surprise and turned to see Xander, still in his PJs, right behind them.

"You missed her," he continued. "Actually, I've been looking for her."

"Oh," Tara said. "Well, um, I-I'd better go find her, then." She walked away, a little freaked.

"Hi," Anya said. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," Xander replied.

"Good. Um...are you fragile at all?"

"Physically? No."

"Good." She wrapped her arms around him in a big bear hug. "Oh, Xander, I'm so sorry, I should have been here and I wasn't and I'm sorry and I promise I'll never do anything like that again and I'm so glad you're all right!"

Xander looked down at her in confusion for a moment. Then, a feral grin appeared on his face.

"Really," he said coldly, the grin disappearing. "That's interesting."

"I'm sorry."

"What was your name again? Anna or something like that, right?"

She looked up at him, hurt and shocked.

"Xander, it's me. Anya."

"Anya, that was it. So where were you, Anya?"

"I...I..."

"Because it's just that I can't help but notice that you weren't exactly the concerned galpal in all this," Xander continued, cruel sarcasm dripping from each syllable.

"I--"

"So where were you? Out shopping around for a replacement?"

"Xander!" Anya cried indignantly. "Look, I don't know what you think was going on here, but--"

His hand lashed out with incredible speed, the slap echoing in the deserted hallway. Anya went stumbling to the ground, clutching at her mouth.

"You make me sick," Xander said mildly. "You make everyone sick."

Anya looked as though she were about to cry...then her face hardened. She stood, her hands balled into fists.

"I should have known," she said. "I thought maybe you were different, but I should have known. Men!"

"Oh, you want a fight?" Xander replied. He laughed sadistically. "All right, bitch. Come get some."

Anya rushed him, feinting to the right and offering up a left hook.

Which Xander caught.

He squeezed her fist until she cried out in pain, then returned the hook to her. She fell to the ground, unconscious.

"Guys?" Tara rounded the corner. "Did either...of..."

She took it in immediately. Anya lying on the ground, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Xander standing over her, a wild bloodlust in his eyes. Eyes she found directed at her.

"Hi," he said conversationally. "You're Willow's girlfriend, right?"

"Yeah," Tara said, bracing for what would come next.

"You'll do," Xander replied.

And then the hunt began.

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"We shoulda stayed in the room," Doyle muttered as he and Xander floated up the stairwell.

"We need to find him. It. Whatever." They had been searching the hospital for Xander's body, but had come up empty so far. "There's no telling what kind of trouble he's getting me into--"

They both yelled in shock as the door they were about to fade through slammed open, and Tara ran through them--

Olives on the vine

Fresh linen

Aphrodite hear my plea

--and went barrelling down the stairs.

"What's she in such a--" Xander was cut off as the thing wearing his body followed--

The hunt, the hunt, want it crave it MEAT

--leaping over the stairwell's rail and cutting off Tara's descent.

"What's the matter?" it asked mildly. "I just want us to be friends, Tara. Don't you want us to be friends?"

Tara began to mutter some guttural syllables under her breath.

"After all, we've got the same taste in women," it continued, taking a step forward.

Tara finished whatever she was saying and raised her hands, rage sparkling in her eyes. Something--they couldn't be sure what it was, some kind of dust--sprayed from the palms of her hands into the Xander-thing's eyes. It screamed and fell backwards, sliding to a halt on the landing below.

Tara wasted no time; she hopped over it and kept running.

"...the hell was that?" Xander asked.

"Doesn't matter!" Doyle said, approaching the body. "If he's knocked out, you might have a chance! Get in there!"

Xander nodded and leapt onto his body--

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--and screamed in pain as a set of teeth sank into his flesh. He couldn't see, didn't know where he was, it was so dark here...

He kicked at whatever it was and stumbled away. He raised his fists, trying to see what it was.

"OUT!" something screamed. The voice was animal, growls and snarls, but somehow familiar...

"You get out!" Xander yelled back. "This is my body!"

"Mine," the thing growled, and he could just see its outline as it crossed his field of vision. "Mine. Revenge."

"Revenge?! I don't even know you!"

"You know me," the thing snarled. "Revenge not for you, but you know me."

It stepped forward, and for a brief instant, he could see its face, and the pieces fell together...and then the claws raked across his face--

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--and he fell away from his body, stumbling into Doyle's arms.

"Xander!" Doyle yelled, laying him down. "Xander, wake up! That thing's getting away!"

The Xander-thing raised its head and sniffed the air, trying to find them again. Then he dismissed them with a chuff.

"Ghosts," it growled. "Who needs you?"

It stood and ran out the door. Doyle looked down at Xander, who was out cold.

"Well, this isn't going well," he muttered.

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A note at Giles' had told her that he was out, having lunch with Buffy and Cordelia. Willow had uttered profanities she wasn't aware were in her vocabulary and had proceeded to tear apart Giles' bookcase until she found what she needed.

Ghosts and astral projection for beginners. Not that that was the title, of course, but it rolled off the tongue better.

Now, she was back in the hospital, where she almost collided with Tara, who was running for the doors.

"Tara!" Willow yelled. "Tara, what's the matter? What are you doing here?"

"That--that--" The witch gasped for breath, pointed upwards. "Not Xander!"

"I know," Willow replied. "Are you all right?"

"He tried to--I don't know what he was trying to do. I think he hurt Anya."

"Okay," Willow said, nodding. "Here's what we do. This--" She grabbed a sales slip from her pocket and scrawled some numbers on the back. "--is Cordelia's cell phone. She's with Buffy and Giles. I need you to find them and get them here as soon as you can, all right?"

"W-what are you going to do?"

"I...I'm going to go bust a ghost," Willow replied, trying to kepe her bravado up.

"You shouldn't go up there alone," Tara said.

"I've got to save him, Tara."

Tara stared at her for a long moment, then drew her close and kissed her.

"Come back to me," she said.

"I'll be okay. Go!"

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Doyle brought his hand back and slapped Xander as hard as he could.

"Wake up, dammit!"

Xander's eyes opened, then widened.

"Where--"

"He went that way," Doyle said, pointing at the door. "What happened?"

"I know," Xander replied, getting to his feet. "I know who it is in there. And Willow's in trouble."

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On the third floor, Willow found Anya sitting on a couch, an ice pack on her face. The former vengeance demon's glare was a combination of fire and ice.

"Are you all right?" Willow asked.

"Yeah," Anya replied. "Nothing a severe beating wouldn't cure."

"Anya, it wasn't him," Willow said, raising a hand to cut off her next question. "It's some kind of ghost walking around in Xander's body. Have you seen him?"

"I...no."

"Did you tell the doctors anything?"

"Just that some guy tried to mug me," Anya replied. She hung her head. "This being a victim thing comes right back to you."

"All right. Stay here. I'm going to take care of this."

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The thing wearing Xander's face was strolling down one of the hospital's highways, swiping food from discarded trays. It was just about to dig into a Salisbury steak when it smelled her.

She smelled angry.

That same grin appeared on its face as it wolfed down the entire piece of meat. It wiped its hand messily on its robe and followed the scent.

Around the corner, a door was just closing. With a smirk, it stepped inside.

Darkness. Not closed in, though, a large room...an old room, long unused. But it could smell her...

"Dark intruder, hear my cry!"

It charged forward, pinpointing her in the darkness.

"Abandon that which is not yours!"

She read with greater speed...she could hear it...

"Leave this body now or die, scattered to--"

The spell was cut off as its hand closed around her throat. With its other hand, it switched on the lights.

It took a good look around as Willow struggled in its grip. The spellbook she was holding tumbled to the floor. Water tanks, chairs with clamps...

"The old mental wing, I reckon," it said. "You probably think I belong here, don't you, Miss Priss?"

"You're not Xander," Willow choked out.

"A gold star for the genius girl," it replied. "It was a nice try, though, wasn't it? I've been dreaming of this for months. Wanna hear my master plan?"

"I want you out of my friend's--" Willow gagged as the grip tightened.

"Don't interrupt. I want to enjoy rubbing this in. After I died, I stuck around. Unfinished business, you know? I was going to follow him, of course. I almost did. But then I figured...why? He's tormented enough by what happened.

"Not you. And it was all your fault. If it hadn't been for you, everything would have been fine!" The Xander-thing snarled menacingly.

"Who are you?" Willow whispered.

"So I waited. I figured that after a while, I'd find a body to shack up in and get my revenge...and then your boy-toy here goes and gets himself comatized. Opportunity knocks but once; snatch and grab it.

"I snatched. I grabbed. And I was going to spend a few months torturing you, but I guess killing you and all your friends will be my silver medal, yeah?"

"Who are you?!" Willow rasped out.

The Xander-thing rolled its eyes contemptuously.

"Haven't you figured it out yet?!" It slammed Willow against the wall, causing a massive coughing fit. "Let's see. Killed anyone lately, Willow? Any more blood on your hands?"

"I never killed anybody--"

"Okay, well, maybe it wasn't your mouth around my throat, but you sure pointed him in the right direction."

Willow's eyes widened.

"Thaaaaat's right," the Xander-thing said. "Dead these many months, and now I'm back and ready to party. I tell you, I can't wait to get some fresh meat." It leaned in closed until it was almost nose-to-nose with her. "Now...what's my name?"

Willow uttered it, and it was coated in fear and hatred and disgust.

"Veruca."

"You're damn right," Veruca replied. "And you know what? I could use a bite to eat."

She opened her stolen mouth...

***

PART 4 - When You Come Back To Me Again

"How does one kill fear, I wonder? How do you shoot a spectre through the heart, slash off its spectral head, take it by its spectral throat?" --Joseph Conrad, Lord Jim

"Veruca?" Doyle asked as he and Xander ran down the hospital hallway. "What the hell's a Veruca?"

"A werewolf," Xander replied. "She showed up last year, slept with Willow's boyfriend, got all crazy wolfy, tried to kill Willow, Oz had to take her out, where the hell are they?!"

"Don't panic, man! So she's a vengeful spirit, right?"

"That display in the stairwell looked pretty damn vengeful to me--"

"Right," Doyle said. "You find her. Keep her busy. I've got a plan." Xander was turning to ask him what he meant when he vanished in a flash of light, presumably to take care of something on the Other Side.

Keep her busy. Doyle had a plan. Well, good. He could handle that. He liked it when people came up with plans. Now all he had to do was do his part. Oh, and save Willow--and no doubt, the rest of his friends--from a horrible death. And get back into his body.

No problem.

Xander slid through a set of doors and looked around. No one around, it looked like this wing was closed off...then he heard her cry.

There was a muffled gasp from behind a pair of swinging doors. He slipped through them. The room beyond was cavernous, dark and disturbing. At any other time, it would have provoked a killer wiggins in him.

Not now, though. He had enough to worry about.

He spotted them at the other end of the room; Willow up against the wall, her feet kicking, his hand around her throat. His body.

Killing Willow.

He broke into a run, rage overruling fear. He screamed a scream that went unheard. When he was close enough, he leapt...

...and in that darkness beyond, tackled his enemy.

He grabbed a fistful of fur and skin and hauled Veruca off her feet. He couldn't see her very well, but he could hear her screams of rage.

"MINE! MINE! REVENGE!" she cried in an almost childlike wail. Her claws sliced into him as she scrabbled at his hands, but he refused to let go. Xander dragged her forward, running, running faster, until they were at the boundary of wherever this was (inside his body? the spiritual plane? didn't matter), and he leapt...

...and now they were both back in the closed-off old mental wing. Behind him, he could hear a sudden THUD. Willow gasped and took a deep breath. He wanted to turn, wanted to make sure she was safe, but he couldn't.

He could only stare at the apparition before him.

The arms and legs were elongated, as though the skin was pulled too tightly over the bone. The figure was naked, the torso of a human female, lightly covered in fur. Paws for feet, claws at the end of its fingers. Her face was stretched, the jaw long and forbidding. Pointed ears, a long mane of hair, fangs. Her eyes were completely black.

It was the soul of a woman and the soul of a wolf, combined and twisted together.

This was Veruca.

Veruca snarled, but didn't move. They both tensed, preparing for the other's attack.

"The body is dying," Veruca growled after a moment.

"Uh huh," Xander replied. Behind him, there was only the ragged sound of Willow's breathing. Nothing from his body. His--what was the word? Animatronic? Auto-erotic? Autonomic, that was it, his autonomic functions hadn't kicked in.

"You'll die, too," the werewolf remarked.

"Maybe." He did his best to keep his hands from shaking.

"Aren't you the brave one," Veruca sneered, and lashed out at him with her claws. He dodged the blow, tried to judge where the next might be coming from. Willow was chanting something behind him...

"Nah," he replied. "I'm the comic relief. The brave one's back there, probably whipping up a spell to exorcise your sorry ass."

Veruca howled in rage and leapt at him; her teeth sank into his shoulder and he screamed in pain, but he moved forward, running; they ghosted through the wall and spilled out into the hallway, where they ran through two nurses who had nightmares for a week.

Xander scrabbled at her, yanked at her hair; she released her grip and rolled away, coming to rest on her feet.

"Too bad," she hissed. "I can't make you a wolf this way. You'd make better sport."

"Yeah, well, it's too bad you didn't lose that freshman 15 before Oz ripped your friggin' throat out, sweetheart."

Veruca growled, deep from her throat.

"You wanna know what we ended up doing with your body? We buried it in a pet cemetery."

She flexed her claws expectantly.

"That was only after we figured out flushing you wasn't gonna work--"

The attack came from the right; the claws cut deep into his upper arm, and he screamed in pain.

"Too bad," she repeated. "This hurts even worse when you've got flesh."

It took her a moment to figure out what had happened. One moment, Veruca-in-Xander was squeezing the life out of her, about to bite her throat open...the next, Xander's body had fallen to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

She could feel it, almost see it, like waves of heat in the air. Xander was fighting Veruca.

And she had to help.

She picked up the spellbook and got to the page she'd dog-eared; the Spell of Machca. A spell which simulated death in the caster, enabling the soul to wander free...

...but if it didn't get back to the body in time...

She shook her head. Any of her friends would do the same for her.

Xander would do the same for her.

She took a deep breath--gosh, hope I get to do that again--and began the chant...

The wolf-thing's claws lashed against his back; he screamed in pain and tried to drag himself away, but his body--his soul--whatever it was, it didn't want to cooperate.

"You have no idea," Veruca growled. "No idea at all how much I'm going to enjoy using your carcass. I'm gonna make you famous. That's after I kill your little pal there--"

Xander spun onto his back and kicked at her.

"You're...you're not gonna..."

"Not gonna what?" Veruca grabbed him by the throat and hauled him up. "You're done, punk. No one's gonna help you n--"

Suddenly, everything was light and heat. Veruca howled in pain as something slammed into her. Xander fell to the ground and looked at what it was.

There she was. She glowed with mystic light; it crackled around her hands. Her hair was standing up slightly as she approached. Her eyes were alive with anger and power and that amazing light.

It was Willow...or rather, it was Willow's soul.

It was just as beautiful as he always thought it had been.

"Get. Away. From him." She snarled, and let loose with another barrage.

Veruca scurried away and passed through a closed door. Willow ran to Xander and picked him up.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"I...how? Why? Are you nuts?! How?!" he sputtered.

"A spell," she replied. "And because you needed help."

"But the flashy hot thing..."

"That's what the soul of a werewolf looks like," Willow said. "This is what the soul of a witch looks like--Xander, we don't have time, our bodies--"

There was a screeching howl from behind them. Willow screamed as Veruca reached out from the wall and sank her teeth into Willow's shoulder. Xander grabbed the werewolf's jaw and tried to pull her off, but couldn't. He pushed himself against the werewolf, and they stumbled...

"Scalpel, please," the surgeon said. He accepted the instrument as it was slapped into his palm, and began to slice open the patient's belly.

He stopped just in time, as a sudden shaking fit passed over him. He gasped in horror, but at what he could not say.

"Doctor?" his intern asked. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," the surgeon replied. "Fine. Um...I think you're ready to remove an appendix, Macht. You go ahead."

Unseen by any of them, Xander broke Veruca's hold on Willow and was smacked aside for his trouble. They had landed on the surgeon, passed through him, and come to rest as a heap of teeth and fire on the ground.

Willow got some distance from the enraged werewolf and focused the power again.

"You," Veruca growled. "You did this to me."

"You did to yourself," Willow replied. "Don't you blame me."

"Revenge."

"Shut up."

"REVENGE!" Veruca charged forward, and Willow let her have it, rays of orange light streaming from her hands, circling the werewolf in a bubble of flame. It took her a moment, but Veruca broke through and then was upon her. She pinned Willow down and raised a claw-tipped hand.

"I did you a favor, you know," Veruca said conversationally. "He would have left you eventually. You're weak. You're pathetic. You've didn't have enough heart."

"Yeah?" Willow said, a manic grin appearing on her face. "At least I'm not some freaky, half-breed, boyfriend-stealing, foghorn- voice-having, big-pale-spare-tire-around-my-waistline-carrying, untalented, murdering piece of shit like you."

Veruca's hand slashed down...

...and Willow caught it. Her own hand glowed bright red.

"NOW GET OFF ME!" she screamed, and red light filled the room for the briefest instant, and Veruca went screaming backward. She landed not far from Xander, who was just getting to his feet.

"Come on!" he cried, running to Willow and grabbing her by the hand. "The bodies!"

By Xander's count, they had been out of their bodies for about three minutes now. He remembered surfing channels one night, landing on Discovery in search of bare-breasted women of primitive tribes, and hearing something like if the human brain goes five minutes without oxygen, it gets irreparable brain damage.

"We'll be okay," Willow said, running up the stairs alongside him. "It'll be fine."

"When we're back in our bodies, we'll be fine," Xander replied, ghosting through the doors. They headed for the second set, jumped through...

Veruca was just rising through the floor as they arrived. Her grin was the least frightening thing about her appearance.

"I took the quicker route," she replied, and made a move towards Willow's prone form.

"NO!" Xander crossed the distance instantly and punched Veruca in the face one, twice, a third time. "Willow! Get in your body!"

"But--"

"GO!" He tried for a fourth, but the claws were upon him again. He dodged as best he could, cried out as they passed too close to his throat.

"I'll kill her," Veruca howled.

"Not in this lifetime," Xander replied. He went low this time, moving forward, tackling her around the midsection. He intended to slam her into the wall, but before he learned that it wouldn't work, the room was full of red light again. He stumbled forward and saw Veruca go shooting across the room.

Willow stood next to him, looking determined.

"We go back together," she said, looking him in the eye, "or we don't go back at all."

"Will, if you don't--"

"Resolve face," she said. Xander had to smile. Then he saw Veruca getting up and approaching them, ready for the fight.

"You know, if you'd told me I was going to die of asphyxiation due to a lack of any brain functions while my soul fought the ghost of a werewolf, I really wouldn't have believed you," Xander remarked.

"Tell me about it," Willow replied, her hands beginning to glow again.

"This would probably be a really good time for me to tell you I love you."

"If you did, I might even tell you I love you back," Willow responded.

He opened his mouth to reply; then more light filled the room. White light this time. A jagged line opened from nowhere, right next to Veruca; out of it stepped Doyle, who grabbed the werewolf by the scruff of the neck.

"C'mere, sweetheart," he yelled, and hauled the protesting Veruca inside. Then he turned to Willow and Xander. "I've got her! Back in yer bodies! Now!"

"Doyle, what--"

"NOW!" Doyle screamed. It seemed like the thing to do. The two of them turned and ran, leaping for the bodies...

There was a terrible loud gasp as Xander and Willow sat up and gulped hungrily for air. They flailed a bit; Xander pulled himself up and crawled over to Willow. They found each other that way, and found one another's arms, and held each other.

"Oh, God," Willow moaned. "Oh, God, we're all right, I knew it, I knew it'd work..."

"What were you doing?!" Xander choked out between joyful sobs and kisses. "What the hell were you doing?!"

"It's okay," Willow said. "We're okay."

"You could have been killed!" He kissed her cheek and buried his face in her hair, loving the smell of her, loving her. "Nobody asked you to do that!"

Willow eased herself back until she was looking into his eyes.

"They didn't have to," Willow replied.

Xander couldn't reply. He brought her close again, and they held on to one another as tight as they could.

A couple of hours later, Willow was passed out in the extra hospital bed in Xander's room. Everyone else had just finished listening to their story.

"So you've been possessed by the ghost of a werewolf for the past 24 hours," Riley said. "I'd hate to have to put that on an insurance form."

"Riley, sweetie, there's a time and a place for jokes," Buffy admonished.

"No, that wasn't bad," Xander said with a smirk. "You're coming along. Pretty soon, you'll be making inappropriate comments all the time."

"If that's the case, then I quit," Riley said.

"Excuse me." The door opened; a nurse was standing there. "Visiting hours are over."

"Can I just get five more minutes?" Anya asked quietly.

"All right, but the rest of you will have to go."

Everyone bid him goodnight. Cordelia lingered a little longer.

"I guess I'll be getting back to L.A.," she said. "Glad to see you're okay, Xander. For some reason, it still matters to me that you're okay."

"Yeah, well, for some reason it still matters to me that you care." He smiled. "See you around."

She kissed him on the cheek. As she turned towards the door, he felt that same shock, like when he'd touched Willow's soul. The same outdoorsy smell he'd encountered when he'd touched Doyle's soul.

"Thanks, Doyle," he whispered as the feeling passed. Cordelia closed the door behind her, leaving Anya to come up to his bedside.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey there," Xander replied guardedly.

"I, um...I don't think I'm ready for this, Xander," she said.

"Not ready for what?"

"This. Us. The past few days have been...and then you hit me, and I know it wasn't really you, but it brought back memories of what it was like to be a victim, and...I can't be with you," she finished.

"I know," he replied.

"You do?"

"I was there. In the bathroom."

Anya said nothing.

"We started out this thing thinking it was just gonna be sex," he continued. "And it's become more than that, but it's less than what I want too."

"I'm confused."

"Get used to it," he replied wryly. "It just gets worse from here."

"Oh, God, no." She ran her fingers through his hair. "So we're okay?"

"Yeah."

She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.

"I liked being your girlfriend," she said.

"And being your boyfriend was..." He searched for the polite words. "It was an adventure."

"An adventure," Anya said. "I like that."

She walked towards the door and let herself out.

"Bye, An," he said once she was gone.

It was his last day in the hospital, and he was digging into a second helping of Jell-O when the door to his hospital room opened. Tara stepped inside and gave him a shy smile.

"Hey," she said. "How're you f-feeling?"

"I'm okay," Xander replied. "I still feel like I need a Clorox enema to get clean, but other than that, I'm cool."

"Good. That's good."

They both fell into silence.

"How's Will?" he asked after a moment.

"She's okay," Tara said. "She wanted to get caught up on some sleep, so she's, um, at her parents' place."

"Good. That's good."

Another long silence.

"We talked a little," Tara said. "She said she had some things she needed to f-figure out."

"Yeah," Xander replied. "That's what she told me too."

She stepped a little closer and looked at his bed intensely, refusing to meet his eyes.

"If you two love each other so much, why does she need to figure anything out?"

"Because she loves you too," Xander said. "At least, that's what she told me."

A beaming smile struggled to break through her clouded expression.

"It'll work out, Tara. We gotta believe that."

"Yeah."

"So I saw you when I was running around being all transparent... that was a pretty cool move there," Xander said. "You with the stuff coming out of your hands."

Tara said nothing for a long, long moment.

"Thanks," she finally whispered.

She looked up at him, finally meeting his eyes.

"It's hard to have a secret, isn't it?" she asked.

Life ends here with us. And you're not gonna change that.

He nodded.

"It really is," he said. "It really is."

They stayed that way for a few moments, looking at one another, a silent understanding passing between them.

"I should go," she finally said.

"Yeah," Xander replied. When she was at the door, he called out to her. "Hey...um...could you tell her something for me? Tell her...tell her I'll be back soon."

Tara looked back at him with sad eyes.

"She knows," she said, and walked out.

END