Summary: Willow goes to a bar to drown her sorrows and meets someone who has some very interesting things to say.
Spoilers: Minor through the third season. Set a few years in the future.
Disclaimer: Wish I could claim them as mine, but you'd all laugh at me.
Rating: PG
For Serendipity.

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Can I Buy You a Drink? WON the 1999 Golden Frog Award for Best Sappy/Love Fic.

It was also nominated for Best Quote.

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Willow caught his eyes from the moment she entered the darkly lit bar. It wasn't just her hair, which glowed, or her eyes, that sparkled sadly, but something that resided inside of her eyes, and shot him directly in the heart. He didn't think it was right that a soul that looked so touchingly innocent would also be so achingly sad. Immediately, his arms wanted to wrap around her, and he wanted to cradle her head against his chest, letting her wash away her sorrows with her tears.

Likewise, he was the only person Willow saw when she stepped through the door. His beer was half drunk, and he was barely nursing it. He must have been there for hours, but he didn't seem inclined to move; He seemed almost, if not just as, sad and lonely as she was. His eyes flickered somberly as they watched her, and she found herself unable to look away from the lovely hazel that burned in them.

Debating for a moment on whether or not to join him, she finally shook her head and sat down heavily on a stool at the edge of the bar. Maybe later, she would. Maybe later, when she was a little drunk, and her heart was a little more numb, she would approach him and see if he could break her spirit a little. She'd never had the best of luck with men, anyway.

The bartender glanced her way and nodded, indicating that he would be there in a moment to take her order. She gave him a feeble, sad smile, only one more lonesome, melancholy soul for him to serve. She wondered idly if he would want to talk to her, to know why she was so sad. Didn't bartenders do that?

The man caught her eye again, and he stood, walking slowly over to her. He was tall and fit, his hair raked back in the popular fashion. Willow noticed his eyelashes as he got closer, their length, and the wrinkles around his mouth that showed that he smiled a lot. Or at least that he used to. She tried to imagine what could have brought him there tonight.

He sat down smoothly next to her, his bare elbow brushing hers on top of the bar. She managed a smile and began to speak, but he cut her off gently.

"Hey. My name's Al. Can I buy you a drink?"

Willow's brow furrowed and then, giving him a slow smile, she nodded. "A midori sour would be nice."

Al gestured to the bartender and then turned his attention back to her. He placed his hand in front of her, and she took it, shaking it firmly. He leaned in a bit. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name...?"

"Willow," she whispered.

His eyebrows raised. "That's a pretty name... Not really normal. But, if you think about it, Al isn't very normal either. I like it." He shifted in his seat, not letting go of her hand. "What brings you here tonight, Willow?"

Her voice was feathery and serious. "I plan on getting really drunk, and since Willy's closed down last year, this is the only place I can," she murmured honestly. The bartender watched them with interest and then slid her drink over to her. Willow lifted it, taking a long draw from the liquid that wet her dry tongue.

"Is there any reason you want to get drunk?" His lashes were lowered and Willow fixed her eyes on them, how they grazed the top of his cheek. "I mean," he continued, "Are you really the type?"

Willow's eyes snapped over to the rest of his face, which looked open and curious. "I might be," she muttered. "If my friends would let me." He looked taken aback, and Willow immediately felt bad.

"I'm sorry," she amended softly. "I've just been in one of those moods... You know the kind."

Al squeezed her hand and then let go of it as he nodded. "Yeah. I've been having a lot of them lately, too. ...Feel like talking about it?"

Her eyes studied him for a long moment, and then she gave him a trembly smile, suddenly on the verge of tears. To cover them, she quickly took another sip from her glass and then set it back down. "I had a boyfriend a while ago... Perfect guy. Perfect. I mean, he was really perfect."

"I'm taking it that he was perfect?" Al's mouth quirked up, but he sobered quickly when her shimmering tears slipped over onto her cheeks.

"Yeah," she sniffled. "We're still friends and all... but we sort of grew apart. One of my high school sweethearts. It's just hard, sometimes, I guess. It's better this way, I know it is. We both do. We broke up about a year ago."

"Why?" Al's voice was soft, consoling.

"We have a very... complicated life together, the two of us and our group of friends. It'd be too hard to explain right now." She looked up, avoiding his eyes as she talked. "And the pressures of everything, his secrets, my secrets, our secrets, started mixing into all the love we had for each other. Sometimes secrets are necessary, and these were, but we couldn't get along anymore. We decided that it was better to like each other and be separated than to hate each other and be together just because it was comfortable. It is, in the long run."

"And the other guys?"

"What?"

"You said, 'one of your high school sweethearts,' " Al noted. "I was just wondering about the others."

Willow gave a joyless laugh. "Just two."

"Who was the other?"

Willow met his eyes. "The other was... is my best friend. I had a thing for him for the longest time, and then in our senior year, we finally got together. But we both happened to be with other people at the time..."

"Maybe your timing was just off," he offered.

"He's never said anything to me about wanting more, now that we're both single. I think..." Willow's voice caught and she gave a shaky sigh. "I think he liked me, wanted me, because he couldn't have me. And, our friendship is too valued for either of us to make a mistake with it. So it would be hard, you know?"

Al nodded silently. "I think I know more than you would imagine."

Willow's eyes widened, and her face colored softly. She took another sip of her drink; it was almost empty. "How would you know?" she asked delicately, licking her lips.

He put his hands across the bar top, fiddling with a napkin. "I had someone like that, too," he admitted. "Someone who was my best friend, someone who I loved, and found out too late. We're still friends, still the best of friends, but sometimes I feel like I don't know what goes on in her head anymore. I used to be able to read her mind, and what I saw there scared me, so I did nothing about it... I was just too young to see that it wasn't dangerous-- it was perfect. But, she had a boyfriend, like you did. And it was just... wrong, even though it was incredibly right. I couldn't be with her, she couldn't be with me, no matter how much we wanted to be with each other. Like that?"

Willow's tears streaked faster down her face, and she let out a sigh. "Like that. I used to think that I knew what was going on in his mind, too. Like I was part of him. But... With age, you grow away from the things that you knew when you were young, unless you work at maintaining them. I came here tonight to... Let myself be immature for once, with myself. I'm not doing a good job of it, I think. I'm a sloppy drunk."

He shrugged. "You haven't had that much to drink. And, anyway, I think you look together," he disagreed.

She gave him a tremulous smile, touching his arm. "Do you?"

"Sure. Ever since I saw you. You know, walk in the door."

Her smile widened a bit. "So, tell me, before I fall into tears: If your best friend had been free, or if she were now, would you tell her you loved her? Do you?"

Al reached up and wiped away her tears with his thumb. "Yes, I do. And I just might, if I knew for sure that she returned my feelings."

"What if I told you she did?" Willow said, smiling through her tears.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, so softly that Willow almost thought she was hearing the question come from his heart.

"Because it hurts inside," she whispered. "In such a wonderful way, it hurts."

Al's eyes got glassy, and he nodded. "Yeah, I know. ...Would a kiss make it better?"

Willow looked at him seriously for a moment before responding. "I think it would go a long way... And whatever still hurts can be worked on later," she murmured. "Xander?"

"Yeah?" he asked thickly.

"Why the... game? Why not just tell me, and let me tell you?" Willow shivered, covered in goose bumps, and Xander took her arms in his hands, rubbing them warmly.

"It was easier this way," he said thoughtfully. "Being a different person. Would you have told me as me?"

"No." She smiled.

"That kiss?" he asked.

"Coming up."

They grinned together, locking eyes, and leaned forward. Her arms slipped loosely around his neck, and his around her waist as the bartender watched in rapt fascination. Xander rested his lips against her temple for a long moment and then caught her mouth in a kiss. She whimpered, a happy little sound deep in her throat, and leaned closer to him. Her mouth tentatively opened and he eagerly sucked on her lower lip before sinking his tongue into her mouth. A long sleeping passion awakened. A long lost trust was reborn.

A long hidden love flared to life.

The kiss went on and on, past and future and present melting together to create one perfect, delicious moment that they had both dreamed about, thinking that it would never happen again. The kiss became hot, fiercely liquid, and Xander tangled his hands through Willow's fiery hair, holding her closer, not willing to let her go.

Willow finally pulled back, breathless. She kept her voice low so that the bartender, who was unashamedly spying on them, couldn't hear her. "Do you want to take this to my place?" She gave him a grin, and Xander returned it.

"You know, Wills, you always have the best ideas," he murmured under his breath. Taking out some money, he set it on the counter and they hopped up, clutching hands.

She leaned her head against his shoulder on their way out. "Xand?"

"Yeah?"

"What were you going to do if I hadn't told you that?"

He smiled. "I would have kept feeding you drinks until you cracked."

The sound of their laughter, sweet and rich and mixing like it had when they were children, floated through the night sky, and the stars smiled as they heard.

The End

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