What Might Have Been~Little Texas Slash Implied.
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: My goal is 100 a drabble.
A/N: The show and characters are not mine by legal means only in my fantasies…I also will be posting them as I type them up b/c I write my fics the lame old inefficient way via pen and paper then I have to type type type them up. I’ve got four ficlets down and a bunch more to work on but I wanted to see the response I got from this. And it is Un-Betad and a bit rough too.
What Might Have Been~Little Texas(????)
Looking back Xander had to shake his head at the absurdity of it all. 20 years had passed since he’d said goodbye to Sunnydale. It had been just as long since he’d said sayonara to his heterosexuality. And sitting here barely paying attention to the council meeting he couldn’t help but reflect back. 25 years dedicated to the fight and he was beyond tired, and having to reminisce with the rest of the old gang really sucked at this point of the meeting.
Cordy, Anya, Spike, and eventually his librarian in tweed Giles were those lovers that had a part of him. And hadn’t that been a twist in the road, Giles of all people was the one man or human being really for him. It had been after Africa, after he’d been reborn into a watcher deluxe edition with all the respect that came along with the title. It had been a wonderful time in both their lives, they had finally lost a little of the bitterness that haunted them at times. But Rupert had retired a few years ago and Xander really hated not having him at the table. Instead, he had to cater to the whims of the females and the fanatics, and not even Willow’s presence helped things.
In matter of fact, it didn’t help at all. It had been 20 years or more since they had truly connected. A friend forever was a misnomer if not worse at some moments. Since he and Ru had revealed their relationship to the others, he and Willow had at best a frosty type of wintry love/hate relationship. He tried not to think about it or regret it much but it was days like this one that it was a hard thing to forget. After these meetings he usually ended up in the pub a block away wishing to go back a few decades but realizing an hour later that what he had waiting at home for him was worth all the almosts and what ifs.