Xander stared at his Willow, his grief-maddened, bloody, forever-changed Willow. Black hair, black eyes, impatient glare. Then a shrug, and the poof of a faintly twitching piece of meat that Xander refused to acknowledge as human.

"One down," and she was gone.

* * *

He sat up, trying not to scream. No park, no trees, no smell of bodily fluids. Hands on him, and a comforting voice.

"Wake up, Xander. You're having one of those dreams again. Come on, sweetheart, wake up."

He looked around. The bedroom of his own apartment, his own bed, his own lover. He relaxed back against the shoulder supporting him. "Damn, Will, that was a nasty one."

Will shoved the dark blond tangles of his hair out of his eyes. "Who died in this one?"

"A couple of people. A guy named Warren. I think he was in high school with me."

"Love, I think your high school experiences come under cruel and unusual punishment banned by the Geneva Conventions."

Xander didn't deny it, just snuggled closer as Will put his arms around him, enjoying the familiar smell and British accent. "That wasn't the worst. He was ... tortured to death. By Willow."

"Willow? Your Willow? As in, the darling geeky creature who's having trouble finding people qualified to judge her dissertation in computational mathematics?"

"That's her."

"Why? Or was this the alternate universe where she's a vampire?"

Xander shook his head, still feeling the grief. "No such luck. Warren killed Tara."

"Good lord, you have vicious dreams. I only have bad dreams of grading endless papers written by freshmen too stupid to fix the spelling mistakes from the papers they copy. Why did he kill Tara?"

"He was trying to kill Buffy."

"Buffy? Oh, that blonde girl who supposed to be saving the world all the time. I thought she was dead."

Xander had to laugh. "Keep up, brain boy. She died but she came back. Brought back by Willow, who got scolded by Giles."

"Giles is your former high school librarian, isn't he? Chief suspect in blowing up your high school on graduation day because he disappeared right after that?"

"Well, that's circumstantial. He was a nice guy."

"What's he doing back in the dream?"

Xander only hugged Will tight. "Never mind, honey, you need a scorecard to keep it all straight. Bless you for trying to follow it, though."

"I thought I'd write it all down and sell it to Hollywood. It's the whole episodic quality of it all, tailor made for drama." He tugged Xander back down to the pillows and got comfortable. "Sweet little Willow, though. The most dangerous thing I've ever seen in her is her threatening me with a shovel if I hurt you. I don't know why she introduced us, though, if she's only going to be mean about it."

"It's her job." Xander grinned at him. "So have the girls in your English Lit for the Freshman class figured out you're gay yet?"

"Not yet. It's just about time to start reading Byron and lounging picturesquely at the podium."

"You're a mean one, Mr. Bennett."

"Though I doubt I should make a point of the whole 'women are lovely but not for me' thing."

"Are you kidding? This is California, I'm surprised UC Sunnydale doesn't have an ad for you in the catalog. 'Look, we've got our very own handsome, young, gay, Cambridge-educated English professor, aren't we cool?'" He hugged Will as the other man started giggling. "They could do tours for the parents, point you out as a point for political correctness--"

Will dove in to begin tickling Xander, who got his lover's wrists in one hand and tickled back until they were both breathless. Then Xander spotted the clock. "Don't you have an early class? You're going to be late. Hell, I'm going to be late." He rolled out of bed and headed for the curtained window. "Let's see what it looks like outside."

Will sat up quickly. "Xander, what are you doing?"

"Huh?"

"Don't open those--"

Xander yanked open the curtains, letting the sunlight flood the room. He spun around at the scream behind him, saw Will cringing from the light just before he burst into flame--

* * *

He sat up in bed, breathing hard. "God damn you, Rod Serling." Dark bedroom, his room, his bed. His bed with only one person in it. Sounds of water from the bathroom. He jumped out of bed and hurried to look.

A wiry young man wearing only pajama bottoms stood at the sink, shaving. Dark blond hair was wet from the shower. Blue eyes over sharp cheekbones turned to him. "Good morning, love," said the familiar voice.

Xander still had trouble catching his breath but he went to wrap his arms around his lover and stare at the faces--two faces--in the mirror. "You're real, aren't you?"

Will put down his razor and put his arms over Xander's. "One of those, hm? Couldn't remember where you were when you woke up?"

"I thought I was awake, I was talking to you, this you. Then I opened the curtains and the sun came in and you--" He buried his face in the warm, human shoulder in front of him.

"Oh, dear. One of the ones where I'm a vampire. Love, I do wish you'd--"

"No, I am not going to a shrink because of these damned dreams. I'm writing them down, like you said, and I'm trying to figure out where they're coming from, but I'm not going to tell them to some stranger who'll just tell me I'm nuts."

Will rinsed off his face, then turned to face his lover. "I don't think you're crazy, Xander. But the dreams upset you."

"They'll give me drugs. Don't need drugs. I've got you."

"All right, then." He kissed Xander in acceptance. "This time the vampire was me? Not the bleached version? That's interesting."

"He was in the earlier part. He's a jerk." Xander saw the look on Will's face. "Not you, you're not a jerk. But Spike's a jerk."

"Then why is he me?"

"He's not you, he's him. He just looks like you. With bleached hair. And a punk wardrobe."

Will tried not to smile. "And you think he's sexy."

"Well, kind of--no, I don't! Dammit, Will, did you study psychology and not warn me?"

"Well, there has to be a reason why he looks like me in those dreams."

"Maybe it's not psychological at all, maybe I'm channeling an alternate universe. You're laughing at me again."

"No more Star Trek for you before bed. An alternate universe where I'm a vampire, your high school librarian is scolding Willow for messing with powers beyond her, and there's this girl named Barbie--"

"Buffy."

"Same difference. Buffy wanders about slaying vampires. Well, it's one explanation, I suppose."

"She was also sleeping with you, the Spike you."

Will frowned. "He wasn't with you?"

"Nope. I was engaged to this ex-demon but I jilted her at the altar."

"You didn't tell me this part."

Xander kissed him again. "I don't tell you everything. Be glad."

"Another version of me who's not with you. Must be an alternate universe. Does he like you?"

"I don't think so. We yell at each other a lot." Will twitched an eyebrow. "Don't go all Spock on me, blond boy."

"Do you like him?"

Xander thought for a moment, analyzing his dreamscape's version of his lover. "He's vicious, homicidal, and crude. And funny. And loyal to the people he likes. He spent over a century taking care of his crazy girlfriend."

"So he does have some good qualities. Thank you. Tell me about his girlfriend--wait, is this the Drusilla woman?"

"Uh huh."

"The dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty? The mysteriously captivating one?"

Xander saw the way he was being grinned at. "I'm not Drusilla. I'm in these dreams, so I can't be Drusilla."

"Still, a dark beauty that obsesses him--I can see the parallel."

"She leaves him a lot," Xander said soberly. "I'm not going to do that."

"What does Spike do?"

"He goes after her."

Will smiled. "So would I."

"But you won't have to."

"But if I did, I would."

"Fine, fine." Xander hugged the other man hard. "So why are you up so early on a Saturday? This is the day of lounging around watching cartoons and old movies and not shaving or putting on clothes unless someone's at the door."

"I'm sorry, love, it's the curse of the non-tenured junior professor, I'm the one chosen to conduct the Saturday orientations for the students of the department."

"Maybe it's just because you're gorgeous. Hah, you're blushing, you're blushing."

"Pillock," Will muttered as he turned to finish his morning routine.

Xander rested his chin on Will's shoulder to watch, then he got distracted by the pulse in Will's throat. He began nibbling.

Will dropped his washcloth. "Blast it, Xander. We played Vampire You last night, I have to get to work."

"Be late." He grinned at the face in the mirror. "I could go put on the tight black t-shirt again."

"Um, no, you can't. It got--damaged."

"Oh, yeah. Beast."

"Insatiable."

"Uh huh."

Will turned again to face him. "I have to go to work. I'll only be gone a few hours. You go back to bed and get some sleep, those dreams are never restful."

Xander flinched a little. "I don't want to dream about them again."

His lover rested a gentle hand on his face. "Then dream of me. The real me. Or, if you must dream of them, dream that this time you get to save the world. I'll come wake you up when I get back."

"You'd better. And if you take too long I may come get you. Dressed as my vampire self. Like that last time."

"That last time was the Halloween party. And you wouldn't--" He kept himself from saying the fatal words.

Xander hugged him hard, then let him go. "I'd rather be me here with you than me there with them. Did that make sense?"

"It made a great deal of sense. Go to bed, love." Will ran his thumb along Xander's cheekbones. "No dreams."

"Unless they're of you."

"Fair enough."

Xander went to burrow back under the covers, taking Will's pillow with him. "Save the world. I could do that." He watched Will in the bathroom until he drifted back to sleep.