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From her helicopter, flying high above the world, Willow looks down on the lush, Scottish countryside. They are still a couple of miles away from the castle. Below, she can see a large group of people, perhaps fifty or so, sparring. The way they move reminds her of Buffy. No longer just “one girl in all the world.” Not even the two who'd been Chosen the last time she'd seen her friends, but thousands of Slayers now. Willow doesn't know how it happened but is certain that Buffy was right in the middle of it. She wonders how Buffy feels. Once she would have known; they'd been best friends then though.
Friends. Willow wonders if she's allowed to think of Buffy as her friend. She's the one who did the leaving, after all, thirteen years ago. Yes, friend. Even if she's rejected, she will still think of them all as her friends, if only in the confines of her own mind.
As they approach the castle, the pilot looks back to Willow for permission to land. With her stomach in knots, now that the moment is upon her, Willow nods back to him. As they descend, a stray piece of paper, caught up by the force of the wind, is driven across the meadow. Willow closes her eyes but can't block out the memories of herself, also caught up by a powerful and implacable force. Her heart clenches as she thinks of what Spike had put her through. He'd killed the girl she'd once been and here she was, trying to pick up the pieces of her former life.
Standing in the tall grass, Willow takes deep, calming breaths while the helicopter blades decelerate behind her. Between her memories of what Spike had done to her and her fears of how her friends will react to her olive branch, the breaths don't help as much as she had hoped they would. In the stillness, Willow can hear the roar of the ocean from the bottom of the cliff. She allows the sound of the waves and the sea scent to carry her fears away.
Looking around her, finally calm and ready to face her future, Willow gasps at the view. It's breathtaking. She's never been anyplace so green in all her life. And, while the air is chilly, the sun feels pleasant on her skin. Allowing her senses full reign, she luxuriates in the walk to the castle: admiring the purple mountain flowers and their gentle scent, the scattering of birdsong, and how the breeze tickles her shoulder length hair against her neck. She's learned to make the most of these minor victories, these moments of happiness.
The stone walls look colder and grayer the closer she gets to them. A glint catches her eye as a camera, mounted below a turret, moves to follow her. Willow stops and waves uncertainly at the camera, momentarily looking like the girl she had been instead of the woman she is now.
She doesn't have to wait long before Xander runs out of the heavy doors. He stops just a few feet away from her, looking lean and handsome in an outfit that's not quite a uniform. “Willow?” he asks.
“Hi Xander,” she replies, biting at her lip.
Grabbing her into a hug, he says, “Oh God, Willow. I've missed you so much.”
“Me too,” she replies, holding him tightly to her.