Willow knew it was a bad idea, she knew it in the bottom of what she now considered a very twisted, shallow soul, but she continued anyways. The walk was longer than expected, the security of the dollhouse was harder to evade than expected, however she made it all the way there. Through the door, up the elevator, and down the hall, until she stood at the plain brown rectangle, which stood between her and her past, for she stood in front of Xander's apartment.

She stood there for maybe five minutes, just staring at the door, thinking that maybe he wasn't really mad at her, but the fact that she hadn't talked to him except for tonight, or was it last night, for two years made her reconsider her reasoning. He was mad, and she struggled to forget why everyday.

Later, she considered that knocking on the door would have been a better plan of action, but she didn't. Instead she magically undid the lock on the door, not even really thinking about it, and slipped through the door.

The main room of the apartment was surprisingly bright for what time it was, and she had trouble adjusting her eyes to the unexpected condition, so she stood waiting, and while she did that, she listened. She knew what she was hearing, and it wasn't something she had ever wanted to hear that involved Xander.

She acted quickly, deciding to say something before she could fully see again. "Hello, Xander?" Xander cursed under his breath, and Willow heard a women ask him if he had invited guests.

Her vision finally adjusted, and she was thankful for an instant that the two lovers were behind the couch. Xander's head popped up from behind it, "Willow? What the hell are you doing here?" He sounded angry and upset, and maybe a little guilty.

"Willow!" The women's voice sounded from behind the couch. "I haven't seen her in forever." The statement confused Willow even further when the woman's head pocked of the couch, revealing a mass of brown hair, even set green eyes, and a freckle covered flushed face. Despite Willow's knowledge that she had never seen the woman before, Willow thought there was something familiar about her facial expressions and bearing, but couldn't place it.

"Xander, I don't want to have a threesome with her." The woman stated bluntly, and Willow was slightly offended, the brown haired woman wasn't at all ugly, and had Willow not known that Xander was sitting next to her naked, she might have thought about the woman in a more sexual way, as it was, Willow was still a bit in shock that Xander was there at all.

He was groping about for what Willow assumed was clothes as he answered, "Don't worry, I wouldn't dream of it." Willow spotted what looked like men's pants next to her foot, so she picked them up and threw them towards the one-eyed man.

"Looking for these?" She asked. He nodded and let out a gruff noise. After putting the pants on, he stood up from behind the couch and grabbed his shirt, which he threw to the woman.

As she put it on he looked to Willow, "What do you want?"

"I wanted to talk to you." She replied almost hurt by his angry tone.

"You told me there was no place we could talk. That it wasn't safe."

"I didn't know if anyone could hear us, and if someone could I wanted them to think our relationship was over." She paused. "You played along perfectly."

"I wasn't playing along."

At this point the woman interrupted again. "Xander, I'm mad at her. She missed our wedding, why are you letting her stay here?"

Willow's jaw would have dropped if that statement had been said five years ago, as it was she was just a little peeved by the woman's constant interruptions. "I didn't receive an invitation." She informed the woman hoping to shut her up.

"Of course you did. I wrote them myself. I made sure to include all of the Scoobies." Willow was suddenly nervous, this woman knew far too much already about the past she was trying to hide, and Willow didn't like it.

"Go in the other room." Xander suddenly commanded, and his voice rang with an authority Willow hadn't known he had.

"But Xand – "

"I said, go!" The woman scurried away reluctantly, Xander's shirt barely covering the parts of her that needed to be covered.

"Xander, what the hell are you doing, getting married, telling a random woman who and what we were what were you – " He cut her off; the simple expression of guilt on his face told her everything.

"She's Anya." And later Willow could recall who had said it.

Willow let out the breath she had been holding, and fell down onto the couch. Surprisingly Xander came and sat beside her. Not too close, but not too far away either. Neither of the said any thing for a moment, and the Xander spoke, " I couldn't help myself. It was only supposed to be once, and then . . . we were married, and I was taking her home once a week. Reynolds told me it was alright as long as I paid, and never got close to her when she wasn't mine to . . ." He trailed off.

"I understand." Willow said after a while, and Xander seemed relieved. "Every year, I go and see Tara, and every year it gets harder and harder not to pay for the doll, take her home, and do naughty things with her for a night. Angle keeps telling me I should, but . . . I don't think Tara would approve."

"I don't think Anya would care." Xander said, but then, "Or at least that's what I tell myself." He grimaced. "You're going to have to leave now. It's late, and I'm sure we both have early starts tomorrow."

"I'm glad we talked. I've missed you, and I'm glad we can still be friends." Willow spoke without think, and for a moment her past had stopped haunting her.

Xander's expression hardened, "We aren't friends Willow. As bad as this thing I've created is, what you did to Kennedy . . . I can't believe you are even the same person I knew five years ago."

Willow was struck numb by Xander's open scorn, and she continued to try to ignore what he was saying, trying to block out the memory. She succeeded partially, and excused her self from the apartment.

And then, the doll that was Anya, was gone.