Title: Je T'Aime, or The Language of Love
Author: Palaskar ([email protected])
Rating: G (PG if Francophone)
Disclaimer; Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters and likenesses thereof are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox, the WB Network, Kuzui Enterprises, and Sanddollar Entertainment. No infringement is intended.
Summary: Willow speaks French, Xander does not, but "I love you" means the same thing in any language.
Distribution: Sure, just email me when you're done.
Feedback: Sure, love it!
Author's Note: No, I'm not translating the French parts. Part of the fun of being a Francophone is being able to contrast Willow's speech with Xander's (non)reaction.

Je T'Aime, or, The Language of Love
by Palaskar ([email protected])

I sat expectantly in Willow's room, on her bed. Finally, after that awful Valentine's Day mess, I had been forgiven. But first, she had something to say.

"I don't know if I can do this," Willow said.

"Sure you can, Will," I said. "You just open your mouth and say what comes to mind."

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

She closed her mouth and sighed. Her eyes flicked up as she thought of an idea.

I love that look.

"Ok, this is going to be a bit wierd, but just listen, and don't say anything," she said.

I nodded.

<< Xander...je t'aime. >> she said.

"Huh?" I said, confused. Why was she talking in French?

"Shh," she insisted. She continued. << Vraiment, je t'adore. Mais depuis l'annee passe, tu as ete si...froid. Dis-moi, quesque-c'est tu as vue en -- celle? Ah, je peut voir les attributes evidemment, mais elle est...mal! Mal! >>

She practically shouted those last two words, then quieted down.

<< Bien, pas -tres- mal. >> She flounced her hair. << Mais pourquoi elle et pas moi? Pas moi? C'est moi qui a ete ici, attendant tous les moments que tu voudrais voir moi pas comme une soeur, pas comme une amie mais, mais comme une femme. >>

She looked so sad then, and I didn't know what to do. I hated when that happened. All I could do was sit and wait and hope.

<< Et quand j'ai demander de...se basser avec toi, tu m'echappe. Et c'etait la bonne choix, mais il faut que je te demande -- aimes-tu moi? Vraiment? >>

She looked at me expectantly.

I didn't say a word. Stupid.

<< Qu'est-ce que c'est je dis?! Tu ne me comprendres pas, tu ne parles pas le francais. Tu ne parles pas -moi-, je pense maintenant. Tu ne comprendes pas, maintenant. Plus ce change, n'est-ce pas? Ah, un moment, cela n'expresse bien... >>

She frowned, then reached out and touched my face. << Plus la meme chose. >> she said.

And then she smiled. << Nous serait toujours amis, >> she said. << Toujuours. >>

She was silent then.

"So I'm forgiven?" I asked.

"Yeah, you're forgiven," she said, and sighed.

I never really got it until now.

<< Je t'aime, >> she said. "I love you."

Funny how a little thing like a French-English dictionary could've changed everything. But I never thought about it until we had our little talk about Faith, and I dunno, I started to flash back to all the really stupid things I've done. And this came back, and I remembered those words, << Je t'aime. >>

I love you.

Why is it so hard to say those words, in any language?

So when she sits down next to Oz as we all gather for another big research session, I manage a few choice words of my own.

"As you wish," I say. It's a code phrase from -The Princess Bride.- It's how Westley used to tell Buttercup, "I love you."

"Huh?" she asks, perplexed. "I'm not wishing for anything."

"'Course not Will," I say clumsily. "I mean, you've got everything you could ever want, right? Good grades, great boyfriend, exciting hobby...did I mention the boyfriend?"

"Yeah, you did," says Oz, eyeing me. "You want to hand me that?", he asks, pointing to a book.

"Sure," I say, handing him the book.

"Xander?" Will asks. "Could you get me a drink?"

"As you wish," I say, and I go.