"The carpet's worn down and the clothes are wore out/ but we still got enough to eat," Willow sang softly as she swept the kitchen floor. Truth to tell, this pretty much was the situation they were in. Dawn was away at Watcher Academy, in the safe sane company of Giles, Buffy was off teaching her band of Slayerettes (age 5 to 7) how to dance with vamps, and Willow? Willow was a housewife.
Well, okay, and a computer whiz, and expert in all matters magical, but none of that did much good for bringing in the dosh. And the rent in London? Obscenely high. Re-aligning chakras did very little for the pocketbook, and anything that led down the road to ecstatic magical experiences was strictly off the books.
One good deed, complete with white hair, glowing, etc, didn't cover a multitude of sins. Willow could have but didn't bother exercising duplicity to practice magic. It was better this way.
Lost in thought, she didn't hear the front door open. "Honey?" Buffy's voice called. "I'm home."
Quickly sweeping the last bit of the kitchen floor, she set the broom down and rushed into the hall to be greeted by a passionate kiss.
Clinging to Buffy, she let her fears and worries dissipate like so much mist. So long as they were together, everything would be all right, grown-up life included.