Author's notes: Willow is the ultimate eternal optimist. Xander is the king of cynicism. Here's what could happen when "two worlds collide."

She is there when I wake, kneeling by me on the cold concrete. She strokes my shoulders, presses her head against my chest. I smell blood, and sweet Willow tears. I think, possibly, I may be in shock.

Slowly, I realize what she's done. The rule runs through my head and mocks me, the one and only rule, the Prime Directive I always lived by: kill them. Kill them all. Don't talk to them, don't deal with them, just kill them, kill them, kill them-- with unusual clarity I realize that it is, and has always been, Jesse's lesson, Jesse's rule.

"Oh my god. Why?" I whisper, and my voice echoes hoarsely in the dark. "Willow, how... how could you do this to me?"

"Xander," she hugs me, "I couldn't leave you one of them! And I did the spell, and it worked, and now you're okay again!" The happy tears make her eyes beautiful, like river-water flowing over polished stones.

The real scary part about a vampire is their single-mindedness, the fact that they're so fundamentally unstoppable. Like sharks; always swimming, never sleeping. They don't think like us, they don't feel like us. They don't understand.

"It doesn't matter what you did while you were-- well, anyway, it's okay!" Willow babbles. "It wasn't really you. It's going to be all right now! You can stay at the mansion, and help Buffy, and--"

And all I can think is, even vampires are less alien than this. I'm dead, have been for over a week. No heartbeat, no breath. I killed, sometimes to feed and sometimes just to play. Doesn't Willow know this? Hasn't she seen everything I've seen? Even the other vampires understood that there was no gray area. Even Angel finally understood.

I don't realize my hands are tightening around Willow's arms till I force a pained squeal from her lips. "Xander!"

"Why did you do this?" I snarl furiously. "You must have known I wouldn't want it!"

"But I--"

I growl, giving her a shake that makes her teeth click. She shuts up. Somewhere underneath the fury and pain, it's funny. I'm the one with fangs, no breath and a pretty serious impulse control problem. But to my yellow eyes, Willow looks like the monster.

"I just want to die, Willow," I whisper. "I just want to die."

"Willow!" I jerk my head up. Oz' worried voice echoes in the distance, beyond Willow's hearing. God. I can smell him, the wolf in him. I can almost taste his sudden fear.

I smile 'cause I know now what I have to do, and something in that sharp smile makes Willow whimper. Good. The better to call Oz. I push her down underneath me, straddling her body. My hands have been cold for weeks, but Willow is warm, oh my god she's warm between my thighs.

"Xander, what are you doing? Xander, don't!"

"Shh." I hold her shoulders down, and slide my fangs along her neck, not breaking the skin... yet. I just breathe, cold, and she shudders.

"Willow!" comes a voice from the mouth of the alley.

"Wolfboy." I clap my hand over Willow's mouth and look over my shoulder, flashing Oz a fanged leer. "Hey. Didn't mean to slobber on your favorite chew toy, but..." I grind my hips against Willow's, keeping my eyes on his. Willow's eyes scream confusion, they dance from mine to his, then widen in terror. "She's just so fuckin' hot."

Calmly, he approaches. I could fucking break him in half, but here he comes. Good for Oz. He's playing the game right.

He knows the rule.

"Let her go." His voice is quiet and serene. It promises me the stake. My unbeating heart aches for it, my body wants it, and just for a moment I think I love Oz, maybe more than I've ever loved anyone.

I turn my back on him deliberately, and slide my cold tongue up Willow's jaw, nuzzling her neck. She squeaks in terror under my hand, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I can feel her pulse against my lips, I can hear Oz' heart as he steps closer, and closer.

Kill me, kill me, kill me-- the mantra hangs hollow in my chest, keeping time like my missing heartbeat used to.

Willow bites me, then, and I yank my hand away with a curse.

"Oz, no! Oz! No!" she screams, struggling.

At that, the last of my patience rips away, goes flying like a screen door in a hurricane. I lose it completely, raising my hand to strike her, shouting furiously, "Stupid fucking bitch, I should fucking kill you-- what the fuck do you mean Oz no?!"

There's a sharp sudden pain at my back and it's perfect, welcome, better than coming even. Time seems to slow down. Without breath or heartbeat, how do I know I'm dying?

I know. And I know I do love Oz, because he's doing this for Willow, to protect her, and God knows I have always loved Willow, always...

The wood is whittled so smooth it hardly hurts as the stake slides in.

"For you, Xander," I hear Oz whisper voicelessly.

The vampire face fades as I push myself off Willow, slump against Oz. He steadies me, and his face is very close to mine.

I press a gentle thank-you kiss to his calm closed mouth. Finally someone understands.

I can feel tears in my eyes, but it's okay. Because I won't ever have to open my eyes, or pull away from this...