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When Buffy awoke, she was surrounded by the darkness. She rose heavily, then walked over to the kitchen.

Made herself a cup of coffee and opened her phone. For a while, she aimlessly scrolled social media. Noting how happy everyone looked. How fulfilled and full of life.

Maybe it’s just me, she wondered. Or maybe everyone else is pretending too.

Finally, she retired to her bedroom. Turning her night light on, she picked up the book she’d left on her nightstand. She examined its cover.

The author’s name in big, bold letters was almost to the point of parody: PAULO COELHO

Then the title underneath: Veronika Decides to Die

It was the shadowy figure on the cover that drew her to the book in the window. Made her halt in her tracks. It was the title that made her pick it up.

A brisk 210 pages later and couple of boxes of Kleenexes later, Buffy found herself picking the book up and reading it again. It wasn’t the greatest book she’d ever read. Not even close. But for some reason it just spoke to her. She’d read it at least thrice over the past week.

By the time she turned its final page, Buffy’s weary eyes could take no more. She glanced over at her bedside clock. It was past 1 am.

She swore under her breath, then opened her bedside drawer. To stow it away, for the time being at least.
But before she could stuff the book inside, her eyes fell on it.

The phone. The special phone. The one Willow had given her in Xander’s apartment.

Buffy stared at it. She’d left everything at the apartment, hadn’t she? The clothes, the shoes, the bags. All of it.

She found herself running that day over and over again in her mind. Every stop. Every move. She had absolutely no memory of taking the phone with her. Much less placing in the bedside drawer of her new apartment.

Then, Buffy found herself struck by another thought. Had he planted it? Was he messing with her? Watching her? Stalking her?

For a moment, Buffy looked around nervously. Then snorted. Feeling like a dumb blonde in a slasher fic.

You’re being ridiculous, she told herself. You probably just put it in your pocket and forgot. That’s all, ya big, stupid dummy.

Buffy picked it up in her right hand, then rolled over to the far side of the bed. Reached out for her cute penguin trash can. Only to find her hand grasping at air.

“Huh,” Buffy said. She looked around. But found it absent. She rolled back over, then put the phone in her drawer and slammed it shut.

Making a mental note to dump it in the garbage tomorrow.

A couple of hours later, Buffy found her eyelids heavy but sleep absent. She found herself tossing and turning in her cold, empty bed.

She staring at the ceiling. Wondered where William was. If he was alone or with someone.

Someone who looks like me? Someone who looks like Faith? Buffy couldn’t decide which was worse.

She hugged her pillow even tighter. Aching for sleep that never came. Suddenly, Buffy could take no more. The loneliness. The emptiness. All of it. It was too much.

She found herself turning her nightlight on. Then, rolling over, opened the drawer. She reached inside and pulled out the phone. Holding it in her hands, she stared at it.
Absurdly, finding herself tempted to turn it on.

It would only be once, Buffy thought. Biting her lip. Just for a little while. To forget.

A moment later, Buffy came to her senses. And shook that thought clean out of her head. Then, placing the phone back in the drawer, slammed it firmly shut.

Turning her nightlight off, she grabbed her pillow and smashing it with her tiny fists, turned onto her side. Once again in search of dreamless sleep.

Meanwhile…

Xander was smoking his fifth cigar of the night when Willow finally came into his office.

“Do I even wanna know?” he asked.

“Nope,” Willow said. Sounding exhausted.

Xander made a sour face.

“Tell the accountants I want it written off my taxes,” he said.

“That might be a little difficult,” Willow said. “Given that you don’t pay any.”

He grunted with displeasure.

“Anything else?” Willow asked.

“Speaking of the million dollar club,” Xander began. Enthusiastically.

“We weren’t,” Willow said. Pointedly.

“I have a new contender,” he said. Tossing a folder onto his desk.

“Xan,” Willow sighed heavily. Then picked it up and opened it.

“Dawn Wyndam-Price,” Willow said. Crinkling up her nose as she read the bio. “Another blonde? Really?”

“Gentlemen prefer blondes,” Xander said. “I want $15 million transferred into the account tomorrow.”

“Isn’t that a bit steep?” Willow asked. Her eyebrows raising.

“You get what you pay for Will,” Xander said.

Willow could hear the anger in his voice, though he worked hard to contain it. She knew what that meant. Since he couldn’t punish her, he’d have to settle for someone else.

“I wanna try something new, Will,” Xander declared. “Something… stimulating.”

“Do I even wanna know?” she asked. The question was rhetorical.

But Xander replied anyway.

“I’m gonna sleep with Dawn,” Xander declared. “And make her loving husband Wesley bear witness.”

Willow shook her head. Then scoffed in disbelief.

“Xan,” she said. “Be serious. This is way fucked up even for you.”

“Way I see it,” Xander said. “The least poor Wes deserves is a few million extra to ease the heartache.”

“Seriously?” Willow asked. Finding herself taken aback.

“You wanna do this? After the defcon 1 shitstorm I just averted?”

“Don’t worry Will,” Xander soothed. At the appalled look on her face. “Nothing will happen that either of them don’t want to. I promise.”

That phrase made Willow see red.

“What?” he asked.

“No,” Willow said.

“What?” he asked. In disbelief. The cigar falling out of his mouth.

“No,” Willow said. Firmly. “I’m done cleaning up your messes, Xan. I can’t stand by and watch you destroy another happy marriage for your own amusement I’m done.”

“Will,” he called. She halted at the door. “Come on. Don’t do this.”

“Call me when you grow up Xander,” Willow said. “Or don’t.”

Then slammed the door shut behind her.

“Unfuckingbelievable,” Xander said. “Fuck.”

He picked up his ashtray, and then threw it against the window. Only for it to limply bounce off.

Fucking window is bulletproof, he remembered. Goddamit. Fuck. Shit.

Xander found himself stewing with anger. He sat in his chair for a while. Picking up the cigar and examining it carefully.

Goddamn it, he thought. Fucking Willow. That’s twice she fucked me twice today. Fucking cunt. Fucking bitch.

“Fuck,” Xander screamed. Slamming his hand on the mahogany table. Then winced. “Ow. Motherfucker.”

When, Xander’s eyes fell on the file on his table, he forgot all about the pain. All about Willow.

He picked it up, opened it and began devouring its contents about Dawn and Wesley. Very much liking what he saw. Dawn was the girl next door. A good girl. Kind. Gentle. Moral. Sweet. She taught at a nursery, while Wesley was a young English teacher.

They’d waited until she graduated to start dating. Then married last year. Unable to afford a honeymoon, they’d put it off – until now. The fact that Dawn and Wesley were basically newlyweds sent a delicious thrill through Xander.

Suddenly, all he could think about was getting the gorgeous young blonde in his bed. And making her husband watch.

I’ll see you real soon Dawn, he thought. Grinning. Real soon.

A moment later, Xander’s cellphone buzzed. He looked at the number. It was his head of security. He picked up the phone.

“Yeah?” he asked. Shortly.

“They met,” the gruff voice said. “Today.”

“And?”

“They went their separate ways,” the voice added. “That’s what my guy says.”

“Hmmmm,” Xander said. Putting his feet up on the table. “Well, I want an eye kept on them. I wanna be informed of any… developments. Spare no expense.”

“Yes, Mr Harris,” the voice said.

Xander tossed his phone aside, walked over to his liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink.

Don’t worry you two, Xander thought. Raising his glass in a silent toast to Buffy and William. The three of us are far from finished. And that’s a promise.





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