18

By Nicollette Marquis McFadgen

Xander sat quietly in the hard wooden chair. His eyes were focused on the book before him, but his mind was somewhere else. Faintly, he could hear Giles lecturing about the newest evil to descend on Sunnydale, and just as faintly, he could hear Buffy arguing and Willow and Oz offering ideas.

Xander hadn't expected anything big this night, but he had expected something. After all, this night only happened once a year and it was a decent enough reason to celebrate.

He had came into the library expecting to be greeted, but instead, he was told to start researching. Xander had no problem with helping out, in fact, he'd grown to like it, but today of all days...

As the night went on, Xander's mood deteriorated. No one was going to say anything. No one remembered. No one seemed to care.

It wasn't so much that everyone forgot; it was that Willow forgot. How could she forget? She and Xander had only been friends for nearly fifteen years. One would think that she'd remember.

It was nearing one o'clock in the morning when Xander was shaken out of his thoughts. He looked up to find the library empty except for himself and Giles.

"Xander? Are you alright?"

Giving a deep sigh, Xander nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Everyone went home, Xander. You should as well. It's late."

Closing the book and gently tossing it on the table, Xander stood and collected his things. He moved dejectedly towards the door, wanting nothing more than to flop on his bed and listen to Patsy Cline until the sun came up.

"Xander?" Giles called.

The boy turned around, a dull expression on his face. "Yeah?"

The librarian gave him a small, tender smile. "Happy Birthday."

A little shocked that SOMEONE had remembered, Xander just stood there for a moment, the blank expression still upon his face. Slowly, a small lopsided smile played upon his lips. For a moment, he wanted to ask Giles why he had waited so long to say it. He wanted to ask Giles why he was the only one to say it, why none of the others remembered. But then, he decided against it and simply said, "Thank you."

The watcher and the boy stood there for a moment longer, just looking at each other, then Xander spun on his heel and made his way out the door.

There would be no Patsy Cline for Xander this night.

~**~
End

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