DISCLAIMER: The Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters are the property of Mutant Enemy, Joss Whedon, and Fox Studios. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2002 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.
I Wish I May, I Wish I Might
by Djinn
The darkness of Arashmaharr settled around her. She could barely hear what D'Hoffryn was saying. It just hurt too much. She hadn't
known heartbreak in a thousand years. And never like this. Didn't tears ever
run out? She felt him come up to her, then he handed her a tissue. She took it
silently.
"Are you okay?" Was
that tenderness in his voice?
"I'm tired of crying. I'm
just so tired, D'Hoffryn."
"Ah, Anyanka,
I'm sorry. But you let him domesticate you. When you were a vengeance demon you
were powerful, at the top of your game. You crushed men like him. It's time you
got back to what you do best, don't you think?"
As she looked at him, she
felt something die inside her. Something good.
He leaned in close. "Why
not extract some vengeance?" His voice was honey.
"Still human," she
whispered.
"And unfortunately
you will remain that. But you don't need to be a demon to pay him back. Find
something he loves and take it away from him."
"But I don't know what
that is. I thought he loved me. I thought I knew him."
"He's a human, Anyanka. Who can know them?"
Her voice was very small. "I
thought I did."
"Perhaps your other human
friends can help you figure out what would hurt him?"
Anya laughed bitterly. "My
human friends? You mean like Buffy? Who didn't even spend any time with me
while I was getting ready for the biggest day of my life? Who spent time with
my boyfriend?" Anya fell silent for a moment. "Maybe it was her
fault? Maybe she said something to him?"
"Perhaps so. Slayers are
unpredictable."
"And petty."
"Yes."
"And Willow. Willow
never liked me. Always mocked me. And did she think I didn't know what was
going on down there, at my feet, while they were fastening my dress? She didn't
care about me; she just wanted to hit on Tara."
"Very selfish."
"She's a total bitch. Whining
loser of a witch that won't practice magic because she got addicted."
"Yes, I remember Willow.
Quite a disappointment." D'Hoffryn walked away. "I
once imagined she could take your place, Anyanka."
"I tried to take their
place." Anya stood and began to pace. "That's what it was all along. Just
place holding. But I didn't know it then. Nobody told me. Nobody said, 'Hey,
Anya, you know Xander's given his heart out so many times, there's nothing
left.' Why didn't they tell me?" She swatted at the tears.
"You know how cruel
humans are."
"Some aren't."
A new voice sounded from the
doorway of mist. "Name one that isn't."
Anya turned as Halfrek walked in, her bridesmaid's dress covered in blood.
"What happened to you?"
Halfrek smiled. "Just took time for a little side
mission. Decided I'd take care of this one personally."
"Anybody I know?"
Anya asked hopefully.
"No, Anyanka.
Just a krafel demon that tried to eat his step
kids."
"You and your children. It's
a lost cause."
"At least I have
one."
"And it's smelling up my
dimension." D'Hoffryn wrinkled his nose. "Change
those clothes, will you?"
"I like the smell."
But Halfrek did as he asked.
Anya was relieved to see the
ruined dress replaced with a black drapey thing. "They're not all
bad." She didn't know why she felt the need to return to this subject, who
she was trying to convince?
"Aren't they?"
"Tara's not."
Halfrek's smile was surprisingly gentle. "Was she the one
with the long hair and the sweet smile?"
Anya nodded. "Did you
like her?"
Halfrek waved that suggestion away with a cross gesture. "You
think she isn't cruel? Isn't, at heart, as fickle and self-absorbed as any of
these lesser beings?"
Anya shook her head.
"We'll see about
that." Halfrek disappeared in a puff of smoke.
"What's she going to
do?"
D'Hoffryn put his hand on her shoulder. "I wouldn't worry
about her now. What are you going to do? How will you face them
all?"
Anya didn't answer.
"By my own ruling, you
must remain mortal, Anyanka. But I am fond of
you." His hand brushed her cheek. "I want you to be avenged."
She didn't say anything. Just
leaned into his hand.
"I was going to give you
this as a wedding present. To save for a rainy day. But maybe you'll want to
use it sooner?"
Part of her knew what was
coming, wanted to protest as he leaned in till his mouth was against her ear,
his voice a hot caress. The other part of her shivered in anticipation as his
hand touched her shoulder again. She could feel the magic beginning. His voice
rumbled like thunder inside her head. "I give you one wish, Anyanka."
A sudden burning accompanied
his words. It started in her head and flowed down her neck into her chest, then
expanded out to fill the rest of her body. It was pain and pleasure all at
once. She remembered it well. It was how granting a wish had felt.
As it subsided, he backed
away from her. "Use it however you want. On whomever you want." He
looked at her sternly. "I suggest that you make Xander pay."
Anya didn't answer for a
moment. Scenes with Xander ran through her mind. A hundred happy memories
assailed her. Then they were overwritten with the remembrance of that tearful
trip down the altar. Alone. He hadn't even helped her tell them all, hadn't
been willing to share part of the burden. Xander had betrayed her so Xander
would pay. But not right away. She needed time to think of something creative,
and she needed some distance to let her own pain subside. If there was anything
she'd learned as a vengeance demon it was that haste and hurt made for
ill-conceived wishes. She wanted this to be good.
"Make him pay, Anyanka."
"Done," she said,
her voice suddenly calm and serene.
D'Hoffryn nodded in approval.
##
She stayed with D'Hoffryn until she was ready to go back. Time meant nothing
in Arashmaharr and she was glad of that. She found it
soothing to surrender to the darkness and silence. She even stopped crying. Eventually.
"Are you leaving?" D'Hoffryn looked up from a scroll he was studying.
"It's time."
He nodded.
"Can you send me back to
Xander's apartment?"
He smiled. "How easily
you say that. A short time ago it was yours too."
"Things change."
"Indeed." He put
down the scroll. "Keep in touch, Anyanka."
His hands moved and the world
tilted crazily. Vertigo swept over her and she felt like vomiting. Finally the awful sensation stopped and in a small explosion
of smoke she was home.
Home. It had been easy to pretend to D'Hoffryn
that she didn't care. But now that she was back in the apartment, she couldn't
fool herself. She looked around the living room. Touched a couch and thought, We made love here. Walked over to the table
and remembered the meals they'd shared, and the sex they'd had there too. There
was almost no spot in the apartment where she and Xander hadn't shared their
bodies—shared their hearts, or so she had thought.
"This is not my home. It
never was." Her whisper was lost in the silence of the room. "I never
belonged here," she said louder.
No voice called out to
disagree with her. The apartment was empty. Xander was gone, and so were the
friends and relatives who had crowded it earlier. Good. Less distraction. She
found the suitcases they had bought for their honeymoon and packed her favorite
clothes into hers. She laid her engagement ring on the pillow. Let him find it.
Let him worry, she thought bitterly.
Going into the closet again,
she buried her face in his shirts, breathing in the scent of him. It was a
scent she'd loved, one that had made her blood race with excitement. It still
did. But not for the same reason. "Soon," she promised as she grabbed
some more clothes and changed out of what was left of her wedding gown. "Soon,
you'll pay." She looked around the room, pushing back memories of happier
times. A sparkle caught her eye. Walking to the bed, she grabbed the ring and
slipped it back on her finger. Did she really think he would worry after what
he had done to her? The ring was hers. And she knew exactly what to do with it.
She called for a cab then
left the apartment. She didn't lock the door on her way out. Hoped somebody robbed
him blind. She smiled at the thought as she dragged her suitcase down the
stairs and to the sidewalk. The cab did not take long to arrive and she was
soon on her way to the bus station. It was empty as she walked up to the ticket
window.
"I'd like a
one-way."
"To where?"
Anya tried to think of a
place to go. Her mind refused. "Could you just pick someplace?"
"That's against company
policy." The woman looked her up and down, her mouth tight. Something in
Anya's face seemed to touch her because her expression softened. "Something
happen to you?"
Anya nodded.
"Too much pride to say
what, huh? I won't hold that against you. You need to make a new start?"
"Yeah."
The woman laughed. "Well,
I came here from New Orleans to do just that. How about we send you there. Even
things out?"
"Fine."
"Okay, one ticket to the
Big Easy. You'll have to transfer in Phoenix and Dallas. Bus leaves in six
hours."
"Thanks. I need to store
my bag for a while."
"No problem,
honey." She handed over a key. "Number 33. Right over there. You take
it easy, now, you hear?"
Why was it, Anya wondered as
she dragged her suitcase to the locker, that strangers were so much nicer than
the people who were supposed to love you? She found the right locker and
stuffed her bag in. Then she locked it and put the key in her pocket then
headed for the exit. It was time to close out the rest of her life in
Sunnydale.
The pawnshop was a few doors
down from the station. The clerk was watching TV when she entered. "Help
you?"
"I want to sell
this." She pulled the ring off her finger.
He reached for a loupe and studied the stone. "Average quality, nothing
outstanding."
Why didn't that surprise her?
"Just tell me what it's worth."
"I'll give you two fifty
for it."
She knew what Xander had paid
because she had snooped around until she'd found the receipt. Two fifty was
well under that price. But this was a pawnshop. She couldn't hope to realize
anywhere near purchase price, but she decided she wanted at least four. "I
don't have time to haggle over this. Give me six and we'll call it a day."
"Six hundred? Are you
insane, lady?" But he didn't hand it back to her.
"Five fifty then. Just
hurry up."
He studied the ring. "I'll
give you four."
"Fine." She waited
as he counted out the money, then turned to go before he finished the receipt.
"Hey, you can't get it
back without this."
"Don't want it back. Won't
ever want it back." She let the door close on her words as she stuffed the
cash in her pocket and hurried to the bank. She had never paid much attention
to financial things while she was a demon. But once she'd become human, she'd
learned she had a real knack with money. Her investments had netted her a tidy
profit, and when the market had turned, she'd already moved her money to less
risky ventures.
She'd been smart and lucky. Xander
had liked to brag about her business sense. But he'd only seen the balance
sheet of one of her accounts. He didn't know that she'd kept another one—with a
significantly larger balance—in a separate account. The statement for that one
had gone to the Magic Box and he had never realized it was about anything but
shop business.
The bank manager was sorry to
hear that she and her husband—Anya didn't disabuse him of that notion—were
leaving, and even sorrier to have to transfer such a large sum of money out of
his institution. As he wrote out the paperwork to close both her secret fund
and their joint account, Anya imagined what would happen the next time Xander
tried to get money out of an ATM. It was hard not to grin. "It's been a
pleasure doing business with you," she told the manager as they finished. That
at least wasn't a lie. Next to her shop, the bank was her favorite place.
She went to the Magic Box,
opening the door and locking it behind her. A sign that Dawn had made for her
hung on the glass in the front window. Green and blue calligraphy scrolled
across the lacy paper: "Closed for two weeks. Best wishes to Anya and
Xander." Anya ripped it off the glass, then tore it into shreds, letting
the pieces scatter on the floor behind her as she walked to the counter. Picking
up the phone, she placed an overseas call. "Yes"—the voice on the
other end said—"the transfer did arrive safely. We've deposited it as you
instructed." Anya smiled as she hung up. Her money was now in a financial
institution that was a lot less mainstream and a lot more secure than anything a
normal bank could offer.
She looked around the magic
shop, then closed her eyes and just breathed in the smell of it. Incense was
the strongest note, its intense sweetness masking less pleasant odors like eye
of newt and valerian. She opened her eyes and realized she was starting to cry.
She loved this place. Loved the crystals sparkling in the display, the statues
of Shiva and Kali and other deities scattered over the space, the books new and
old and all arcane that crowded the shelves. This was the place she had felt
most comfortable. The place that had first seemed like home. The place that she'd
made hers. And it was the last time she'd ever see it.
Taking a deep breath to
steady herself, she destroyed the few artifacts that were powerful enough to
stop the wish D'Hoffryn had given her. Her eyes
lingered on the shelves of herbs but there was nothing there that she needed to
fear. She went down to the storeroom and dug through the back stock. As she
worked, she found a zuni fetish doll she'd been
looking for, considered putting it out on the shelves, then tossed it back into
the box. Let whoever ended up with the shop worry about it.
She moved down to the more
fragile items. Finding two crystals that were old and powerful enough to cause
her problems, she dropped them into a burlap sack and slammed it into the concrete
floor until she heard the stones inside shatter. She dropped the sack into the
trash. A little more searching revealed nothing more than an Orb of Thessala that she had ordered off the Internet, thinking to
give it to Willow for her birthday. But that had been before she'd decided to
give up magic.
Anya weighed the crystal in
her hand. Such a delicate thing to do so much—transmit souls, imprison genies,
trap memories. Humans had no idea all the uses it could be put to. She carried
it upstairs. Pulled out a tag and wrote "To: Willow, From:
Anya" and left it with the orb in a prominent place on the counter. It was
a cruel joke, tempting Willow to use magic this way. Anya only wished she could
see her face when she found it.
She scrawled out a new closed
sign and hung it in the window, then left the shop, locking it securely and
testing the door several times before turning away. Unlike her old apartment,
she couldn't bear the thought of anyone violating this place. As she was walking
back to the bus station she passed the Espresso Pump
and heard someone call her name. It was Tara.
"Anya, where have you
been? I was so worried."
Another woman stepped up
behind her. "I've got to get to class, Tara. I'll see you later?" The
woman leaned in to give Tara a quick hug, their dark blonde hair blending for a
moment into a curtain of golden silk.
"See you, Allie."
Anya wondered at the strange
look the woman gave her, then noticed the necklace she was wearing. Halfrek, you devil, she thought as amusement
at the demon's methods warred with a strong protectiveness toward Tara.
"I won't hurt her,"
the demon whispered as she passed.
Tara waved, her eyes
lingering on Halfrek's human form. Now that Anya had
seen through the glamour, the woman who was walking away was no longer blonde
or wearing the modern clothes of a college student. Anya turned as Tara touched
her arm.
"Come sit down. Tell me
how you are."
"I'm all right. "
"You don't look all right.
You look like hell." The concern in Tara's voice took the sting out of the
words. "Where were you? I tried to find you but I couldn't."
"I was with a
friend." Anya saw Tara wince. "I'm sorry. That came out wrong. I was
with D'Hoffryn. I just wanted to get away."
Tara nodded, but she still
looked hurt.
"What about you? Who's
the new girl?"
Tara looked embarrassed. "Allie's
just a friend. She transferred into one of my classes and I've been helping her
catch up."
"So
you like her?"
Tara looked down. "It's
not like that."
"It looked like that to
me."
"It's complicated. You
know. Because of Willow."
"You still love
her?"
Tara nodded. "And I
think I always will. But I don't know if I can go through this again with her. It's
like something inside of me doesn't want to go back. Doesn't think it's
healthy."
"Maybe it's not." Anya
thought of Xander. "Maybe loving a Scooby is just plain stupid."
"Maybe." Tara
seemed about to say more, then fell silent.
"What?" Anya asked.
"When Willow had to make
a choice between Oz and me, I always wondered how she knew that she shouldn't
be with him...and why she picked me. She told me I was her future. That what
she felt for him was strong, and maybe even would last forever, but that it
wasn't where she was supposed to be." Tara shook her head. "How do
you know when that's true? How do you tell the difference between the right
thing to do and the safe thing?"
Anya shook her head. "I'm
the wrong one to ask about that."
"I didn't mean..."
"I know. I didn't mean
you did." There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment. She laughed. "Great
conversation."
Tara laughed softly too.
"Yeah. So what now? What are you going to
do?"
"I'm leaving town."
Tara looked stricken. "You
can't. I mean, you shouldn't. There's more here than Xander. What about the
shop?"
"The shop where I'll
have to see Xander every time the Scoobies assemble? The
shop that doesn't even belong to me?" She couldn't resist a look back at
the Magic Box. It looked...sad, sitting there all closed up. She turned back to
Tara. "Besides, Giles won't care. He may even be relieved that I'm gone. Now
he can let Buffy run the shop. Right into the ground probably, but not my
worry."
"But you love the
shop."
Anya stood up. She didn't
want to talk anymore. "I do love it. Sometimes you have to say goodbye to
the things you love."
Tara stood up and gave her a
fierce hug. "I guess. I'm not there yet, though."
"Well, get there. This
town isn't kind. It isn't safe either. How many times have we been hurt
here?"
"I'll be fine."
Anya wasn't sure she believed
Tara would be, but she let it go. "Thank you," she whispered. "For
being nice to me."
Tara tightened her hold. "Same
here."
Anya was the first to pull
away. "Bye," she said, turning resolutely and walking away.
Tara's voice barely reached
her. "Good luck."
##
When Anya got back to the bus
station, it was full of people, mostly men—large, sour-smelling men. After the
sixth come-on, she got up and headed back outside. Maybe she should walk for a
while? Until it was time to go.
Where was Xander? He wasn't
at the apartment. Could he be at Buffy's? Would he be there? And if he did go
there, what would Willow and Buffy do? Would they reproach him? Or would they
circle the wagons and defend their own? Anya could guess which it would be. The
Scoobies stuck together. Always. When she found
herself walking up Revello Drive she wasn't surprised
to see Xander's car parked outside Buffy's house. He was here. Whatever small
part of her that still loved him, that still held out hope for a future with
Xander, gave up...gave in to the darkness, to the vengeance.
It was a relief.
She watched the house. How
long had he been there? Since the wedding? Why didn't he go back to the
apartment? Maybe he had. Maybe he'd been right behind her today. The thought
amused her. And angered her. Why couldn't he have been there when she appeared?
She wanted that. She wanted to hear him say he was sorry. She wanted to know
that he still loved her and still wanted her. And then she wanted to walk away.
Leave him the way he had left her.
But she wasn't going to get
that chance. He wouldn't have to pay. And he had to pay. He had to.
Anya saw Buffy leave the
house and realized it had gotten dark. How long had she been standing here? Her
bus was leaving soon. She should turn around and go back. She began to move,
but only to settle more firmly into the shadows. Just in time to be hidden from
Willow and Xander, who followed the Slayer out, then headed in another
direction, toward where Anya was hiding, and then past her. Their voices
carried easily to her as they spoke of everyday things, as they didn't speak of
her. How could they be so normal? How could Xander just act like she never
existed?
She followed them. They
seemed to have no firm destination, just rambled around Sunnydale, finally
ending up in the cemetery, eventually coming upon Buffy and Spike. She had to
stay well back to avoid being seen. She couldn't hear what was being said but
she saw Xander and Spike get into it. Saw Xander hit Spike. Saw him keep Spike
away from an apparently ill Buffy. Saw how he and Willow helped Buffy walk
away.
She should have followed them
out. But she was riveted by Spike. Something in the set of his shoulders as he
watched the three walk away called to her so she moved
closer. She could make out the expression on his face as he turned and walked
away, heard the tone of his voice when he said, "She likes that."
She felt his pain. Knew it,
tasted it, loved it. It called out to her in a way she hadn't experienced since
she'd stopped being a vengeance demon.
She waited a few minutes,
then opened his door and followed the scent of smoke to the lower level. Watching
from the ladder, she saw Spike leaning against the far wall, staring out at the
burnt wreckage, bottle of whiskey in one hand, cigarette in the other. His eyes
were red-rimmed.
"God, you're
pathetic," Anya said as she climbed down into the room.
"Go away."
"Where?"
"Hell, for all I
care." He peered at her through the gloom. "Or is that where you've
been?"
"Thought you didn't
care?"
He shrugged. "I heard
about you. And that boy. What he did. Don't like it much."
"You stood up for me out
there?"
Spike made a face. "Just
picking at him, is all."
"He hit you."
"Yeah. That's good fun
in these parts, or didn't you know?"
"Shouldn't be. Hitting
someone who can't hit back, that's just wrong." She held out her hand. "Can
I have some?"
"This?" He handed
her the bottle. "Go easy, it's the good stuff." He smiled. "Course,
I nicked it from your reception, so maybe if anyone has the right to knock it
back, it's you."
She took the bottle and felt a
pang at the thought of all the expensive things that had gone to waste that
day. She'd watched Xander's father help himself to several bottles as he walked
out. And cousin Rory had pocketed at least half a dozen pieces of silverware. She
handed the bottle back to Spike and looked around the crypt. "Why's it so dark in here?"
He laughed; the sound split
the air like a gunshot. "You didn't hear then? Buffy and that ass"—he
took a long pull from the bottle— "that posturing bastard Riley blew it
up." He flicked the cigarette into the wreckage. "Left me homeless,
they did. Or tried to."
"This isn't your
home."
"Well, no, not
anymore."
"I mean Sunnydale. It's
not mine, either."
"Very philosophical. Excuse
me for not caring." He pushed himself away from the wall and looked like
he was going to leave but at the last minute turned back to her. "What the
hell happened to you two?"
"Xander couldn't go
through with it."
"I know. But I don't get
that." He moved closer.
"Join the club." She
walked around the space, kicking up little piles of sooty dust. "He
doesn't love me."
"Did he say that?"
"He didn't have
to." Her foot caught on something, a piece of debris that was blocking her
way. She worked at it with her boot for a moment, then lost interest. "Do
they always fall out of love that fast?"
"Humans, you mean?"
She nodded.
"Beats me. I thought he
had the look of a man in for the long haul."
"Me too." She went
back to worrying at the thing on the floor. "Love's a funny thing."
"Yeah." He looked
down.
"You love Buffy." She
didn't phrase it as a question and he didn't bother to answer. "I saw what
just happened. They wouldn't even let you touch her."
He looked up.
"I mean, you were
talking to her first and then they came and ruined it all. And what was
Xander's problem? He wouldn't let you talk to her, and then he wouldn't let you
help her."
"Man doesn't like me. You
know that."
"I know. But don't you
think it's gotten worse? Now that Buffy is nicer to you."
He didn't answer.
"Spike, I saw you that
night. At the Bronze. She went upstairs and you were there. I saw what you two
did."
He looked surprised. "Did
Xander?"
She shook her head. The scene
was still clear to her. Buffy standing on the balcony, looking down at them. Spike
appearing from behind her, standing so close, pushing against her rhythmically.
Anya had stood breathless for a moment, watching them. Then Xander had noticed
her expression, turned to find out what was causing it. She had distracted him
before he could see. But what if she really hadn't? What if he had seen?
She hadn't been able to see
his expression or Buffy's when he helped Buffy up. "Buffy didn't stop him
out there, did she? Didn't tell him to let you come. Didn't ask for your
help."
"She wouldn't. We're a
secret."
"Why?" Anya moved
close. "I wouldn't keep you a secret." She ran her hands over his
arms. "I'd want the whole world to know." She moved away. "If I
were Buffy, I mean."
"She's not like
that." He looked down. "She's ashamed of me."
"Why?"
"Wants normal, I guess. Doesn't
want the darkness."
"And I guess Xander's
normal."
Spike looked up.
"They were
together," she whispered.
"When?"
"At the wedding. They
were together the whole time he was getting ready. Don't you see? He was fine,
and then they were together, and then he wasn't fine anymore."
He looked a little lost. "The
two of them. You mean...?"
"Xander. And Buffy. Together."
She thought of how sure Xander had seemed that morning when she'd talked to him
on the phone. How in love with her he'd sounded, nervous about the wedding but
excited to start their life together. Everything had been fine. Crazy and
hectic and a little frightening. But fine. Until Buffy. "It has to be
her."
He frowned.
"And you saw. He's with
her now. He only cared about Buffy out there. Did he look like a confused man? Or
a contrite one? What if...what if at the wedding they realized they were in
love?"
"No. That can't be
right." He shook his head. "No. He's not Buffy's type. He's
too..."
"Normal? Not dark?"
They both fell silent.
"You really think?"
She nodded. "Doesn't it
make sense? In a weird sort of way?"
"She was glowing!"
"Huh?"
"She was glowing. She
was happy. I thought it was for you two. But it wasn't." He slammed his
fist against the wall. "I should have known it wasn't. The bint is too self-involved for that. She's—she's in love
with him. Damn her! She can love him but not me? Some stupid boy?"
Anya nodded and walked to the
ladder, brushing past him slightly as she did. "I shouldn't have told you.
It was mean. I just wanted someone else to feel as bad as I do."
He reached out to stop her. "You
damn well should have told me."
"No. It was wrong."
She looked at him, had a hard time seeing him clearly. Tears again, she
realized. She blinked. Blinked again. Still more tears. Was there a point in fighting
them? She let them fall.
"Well, now. That's not
good." He fumbled for something to give her to wipe her eyes. Came up with
nothing and settled for pulling her towards him. "That's not good at
all."
"I'm just so lonely,
Spike. I'm so terribly, terribly lonely."
"I know, pet." He
stroked her hair. "I know."
She looked up at him. "You
do know, don't you? You've never been alone before."
He shook his head. "Not
like this."
"I've always been
alone." She reached up, ran a finger down his face. "But not like
this. Alone never meant lonely before."
His eyes closed in response
to her touch.
"It's their fault. And
they don't even care."
"Mmm,"
was all he said as he pulled her closer.
"They should pay for what
they've done."
His reply was muffled as his
lips ran down her neck. "I'd help you, if I could."
She shivered. Every spot he
touched tingled. "Just keep doing that."
He straightened and opened
his eyes. "I mean I'd help you make them pay."
She studied his face. He
seemed to mean it. "I have the means."
"Yeah?"
She nodded even as she rubbed
her body against his. It felt good so she did it some more.
"Are you a demon again? One
way to find out." His hand curled into a fist.
She grabbed his hand. "No.
Not a demon." She pulled his captive arm around her, then let go of him
and snaked her arms around his neck. "Just a human with a little tiny
wish."
She watched as realization
seemed to dawn. His smile was huge. "To wish he were dead?"
"Maybe."
"Or hung over a pit of
fire."
"That's good."
"To tear his innards out
and make him eat them."
"Messy. But also good."
He pushed her up against the
wall. "Make him watch us do this...for eternity."
She leaned in. "Make
them both watch."
"Mmmmm."
He kissed her deeply.
The wall was hard at her back
as his hands wandered over her body. She let her own hands move freely over
him, learning his body. She felt him pull off her jeans and underwear. Felt
something else, something cold and hard and surprisingly comforting.
"Get them both," he
whispered in her ear. "The whole bloody lot of them."
"Yes," she said as
she grasped his shoulders more firmly.
"Well, except the little
bit. I like her."
"Or Tara. She was nice
to me."
He grabbed her face in his
hands and kissed her, harder than before. "The two of them are left
out."
"Yes," she agreed.
"We get the
others." His voice was ragged. "Make them pay."
"Kill them all,"
she said. And then she could only make noise. Loud, energetic noise.
Spike was very noisy too. Then
he was silent, his face burrowed in her neck.
"Kill them all." She
ran her hands over his hair and down his neck.
He pulled away and met her
eyes. His face shone with wicked delight. "No. Not kill them."
"Not kill them?"
"No. Turn him."
"Turn?" Then she
got it. "Turn." She heard herself laugh, shrill, slightly hysterical
laughter. "Turn him. Turn him and then the other two pay!"
"Now you're getting
it."
"Buffy would have to
kill him."
He nodded and pushed against
her with his lower body.
She looked down in surprise. "And
I thought Xander was a Viking."
"Oh, I've got lots of
surprises for you." He grinned. "So, yeah, Buffy'll
have to kill him. Kill her newfound love. Or there's another option."
She realized what that was,
bounced up and down with excitement.
"Oh, god, keep doing
that," Spike urged.
"Buffy won't have to
kill him."
"And why not?"
"Because Willow could
restore his soul." She thought of the Orb she'd left in the shop and
laughed.
Spike grinned evilly. "But
Willow doesn't do magic anymore, love. She's a big bad junkie."
"She'll have to if she's
going to save him. But if she does, she risks losing control again."
"Exactly."
"It's a choice. For all
of them. Kill him and live with that. Save his soul and watch Willow turn evil."
Spike chuckled meanly. "Plus,
Buffy would have to deal with a Xander who walked around all brooding and
tormented like that poofter Angel."
"But if they do nothing,
then Xander will kill a bunch of innocents. And not random ones either; I
remember what he was like in that other universe." Anya nodded in
satisfaction. "Whatever path they choose, they all suffer."
"It's brilliant,"
he panted as he moved against her repeatedly.
It got very noisy again. Then
he backed away and let her down. "So you'll de-chip
me?"
"Well, we have to be
careful. This wishing is tricky business. If I wish you had never been chipped
in the first place, I could find myself dead. And all of them too. Or even
you."
"Hmm. I guess."
"Plus, you wouldn't have
been in love with Buffy and none of this would work."
"I'd still be with
Drusilla."
Anya felt herself pouting.
"Oh, now." He
leaned in. "Didn't say I wanted to be with her, just that I probably would
be."
"Oh. Okay then." She
let him kiss her for a while, still thinking of all the ways this would hurt
Buffy and Willow. She almost hoped that they would restore Xander's soul so
that he would suffer longer too. But in the end it
didn't really matter. The Xander she'd loved would be gone as soon as Spike
killed him.
A sudden pinch made her yelp.
"Are you thinking while
I'm kissing you?"
"Maybe a little."
"Cut it out," he said,
as his head moved lower. When he touched her again she had no difficulty complying. She was soon unable to do anything more than make
helpless noises.
Spike rose, a big grin on his
face. He kissed her gently, then lit a cigarette. "So
I guess there's some problem with just wishing that the chip were out or that
it stopped working?"
"We don't know what else
it does. What if your brain is tied into it now? Or some other vital
function?" She looked down.
He followed her eyes. "Hmmm.
Good point. Well, I can hurt Buffy since she came back. So
make Xander the same way." At Anya's puzzled look, he explained. "She
came back different somehow. Not sure how exactly."
"Nobody tells me
anything." It was typical, really. She was the last to know anything, even
something as crucial as a Slayer who hadn't come back quite normal from the
dead. But then she'd been saying that since they did the ritual. They probably
didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing that she'd been right all
along. "So, we just make Xander a demon and then you can attack him."
He shook his head. "Won't
work, though. I can't turn a demon. He'll just be dead. Plus
they taste like shit."
Sighing, she leaned into his
arms. She remembered a lecture D'Hoffryn had given. He'd
said, "Humans have one simple failing. They always make everything so
complicated. You'll see it time and time again in this business."
Of course! The excitement she
felt leaked into her voice; it shook slightly as she said, "I wish that
Xander wasn't safe from Spike."
A thousand whispered replies
filled the tomb. "Done," they said.
##
They were still making love when
someone came running into the crypt upstairs. They both looked up.
"What in the bloody hell—"
Spike's question was cut off by a yell from Xander.
"Spike? You here?"
"I'll be right up. Keep
your shirt on."
Anya found that funny. She was
pretty sure that even if he were shirtless, Xander would still have more
clothes on than Spike did. She could hear Xander as he walked to the ladder. "I
need your help."
"Oh, well in that case,
I think I'll stay down here. Nice of you to drop by and all." Spike
shouted, then winked at her as he leaned in to nuzzle her neck. "Do I take
him now?" he murmured.
"Yes," she said
without hesitation.
Spike pulled back and stood
up, taking the clothes she handed him. "Consider it done."
"It's for Buffy." Xander's
voice sounded desperate. "She's really sick. We have to catch the demon
that made her that way."
Spike looked at Anya. "Plan
doesn't work if she's not alive."
Vengeance could wait a little
longer. "Then you help him."
"Right." He moved
to the ladder. "Buffy's ill?" His voice sounded full of concern, even
a bit anxious.
For a moment, Anya worried
that Spike was serious. Then he turned back and, winking at her again, put his
hands up, fingers spread into claws, and pantomimed stalking something. She
giggled and waved him upstairs. Waiting until she heard him leave with Xander,
she got dressed and hurried upstairs and out the door. They were well ahead,
but she didn't have any problem keeping them in sight. They seemed to be
arguing. She imagined Xander taunting Spike as he always did. She also imagined
how good Spike must be feeling, knowing that this time he could rip Xander's'
throat open if he wanted to.
It took several hours, but
they finally caught the demon and dragged it to Buffy's house. She didn't go
in; made her way to the crypt and waited for Spike to come back.
Hours later he came in. Alone.
She climbed up the ladder and he was waiting for her.
"God, that was
fun." He had her clothes half off before she could reply.
She laughed as he lifted her
onto him. "He didn't suspect?"
"None of them did. Got a
good dig in on Buffy, too. Told her to tell her friends about us or I
would."
Anya laughed again. "What
did she say?"
"Didn't say anything. Just
sat there with that forlorn look she sports lately. The one that used to really
get to me, made me weak. Made me feel sorry for her."
"Doesn't now?" she
asked, tightening her grip on Spike's shoulders as he began to thrust harder. She
smiled as she felt the pleasure beginning and grabbed his hair as she rode him.
"Not anymore. Not with
you to remind me that it's okay to enjoy sex." His movements changed,
became more deliberate. "She...never...seemed...to," he said as he
relaxed against her.
Anya opened her eyes.
Spike was watching her, his
face aglow with satisfaction. "She never let herself. Made me crazy. I'd
try harder. Do more. Like if I could just make her feel something, she'd like
me, she'd like having sex with me. Wouldn't want to leave me so fast."
Anya ran her fingers through
his hair. "She's an idiot."
"So's Xander."
"Let's not talk about
them now. How long before she's well again?"
"Give them a day or
two." He smiled wickedly. "I've got an idea or two of how we can fill
the time."
"I bet you do."
He leaned in to kiss her but
his lips never reached hers. The movement was interrupted by a flash of light. Smoke
filled the room and Halfrek appeared.
Anya felt Spike's arms drop
and looked at her friend in annoyance. "What are you doing here,
Hallie?"
"Oh, just thought I'd
catch up. Let you know how it's going with Tara." She looked at the two of
them. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"
"Cecily?" Spike's
voice was incredulous.
Halfrek smiled slightly. "Hello, William."
"But how?"
Anya watched as he walked
toward Halfrek. "You two do know each
other!"
His expression was one of
utter confusion. He seemed not to hear Anya's question. "I went back for
you. When I'd been turned. But you were gone. I couldn't find you."
Halfrek nodded. "I never got the chance to say how sorry
I was for what I said."
"No, you were right. I
was a sodding weakling. I was beneath you."
She shook her head. "You
were a sweet boy. Unfortunately, you said all the wrong things to me that
day." Her look became distant. "That awful day. For both of us."
"I don't
understand."
"That poem you gave me? It
reminded me of how I liked to write poetry. How, just that morning, in my
journal, I had written a poem about freedom, about escape. My father found it. He
didn't think much of it. Do you remember my father, William? What did you think
of him?"
Spike grimaced. "He made
my skin crawl."
"An excellent choice of
words. He made my skin crawl too. Every inch of it he ever touched. Every inch
of it I ever had." She turned to Anya. "Issues."
Anya looked down. How many
decades had she ribbed Halfrek over her lost cause? "I'm
sorry," she whispered.
Halfrek looked back at Spike. "You were never beneath
me, William. I just needed someone who could protect me from him. You were so
soft and gentle." She touched his arm. "Now look at you. All because
of me."
"I would have killed you
that night."
"I don't doubt that. I
was cruel." She sighed. "But didn't you notice how stiffly I sat that
day? That each time I took a breath I was in pain? He beat me with my journal
and then he hurt me in the more usual way. He never marked me where it would
show. But every other spot on my body hurt." She looked down. "And
when I got home from the party, he was at me again. He'd never done that. Before,
he'd always shown a reluctance to be near me. He'd stay away from me for weeks,
as if somehow shamed by what he'd done. But that night he wanted more. I broke,
William. I just snapped. I vowed that I would serve any dark power that would
help me.
"And that's when D'Hoffryn appeared. My savior. We disappeared just as you
came up the stairs. I take it you convinced the maid to let you in?"
"She always liked me. Don't
suppose she liked me half as much after I killed her. I killed him too."
"I know. I'm glad. He
was in many ways responsible for what happened to you." Halfrek turned to Anya. "Tara understands that. She
was ill used by her father too."
"You told her?"
Halfrek nodded. "Last night. I showed her my true face. First
my human one, then this less smooth one."
"And she didn't run
screaming?" Spike eyed her critically. " I'm usually a big fan of
veins, but I can't say this is your best look. "
"You're as domesticated
as Anyanka," Halfrek had
a teasing tone. "But that's changing, I think. I smell vengeance." She
rubbed her hands together, then scowled slightly. "And don't distract me,
I want to finish talking about me."
Spike gestured for her to
continue.
"So, I told her I'd
fallen for her at the wedding."
"You did like her. I
knew it." Anya smiled.
"Yes, I thought she was
cute. But she was also human. I was determined to prove to you that they couldn't
be trusted. That like all humans, she was a cruel and useless creature."
"But she isn't. I told
you that."
"Yes." Halfrek sighed, looking almost moony. "She's so
nice."
"I think I'm going to be
sick," Spike muttered. "So, what, you stole her from the witch?"
"Tara and I have much in
common. Especially when I told her I had to pretend to be something else
because I was afraid if she found out I was a demon she wouldn't want anything
to do with me."
"Not very fair, using
that against her." Spike shrugged. "Not that I care."
"You won't hurt her,
will you, Hallie?"
"No, Anyanka.
I won't."
"So
she's really going to leave Red?" Spike seemed unconvinced.
"She's afraid here,
William. All the time. She didn't even realize it, but I helped her see. She
loves the red witch, but she's afraid of that love. I can give her peace."
Spike chortled.
"You don't believe
that?"
"Well, there's the whole
vengeance demon gig. How peaceful is that?"
"You think I can't leave
my work at the office?"
"I'm just saying I'll
believe it when I see it."
"She's on her way to
tell Willow now. To say goodbye." Halfrek
suddenly winced. "Something is wrong. She's using magic...she's very
afraid. I must go." She disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Spike lit a cigarette. "Should
we be worried? Rush to the rescue?"
"No. Halfrek
will protect her." She took the cigarette from his hand, dropped it on the
floor and ground it out with her boot. "I believe we were in the middle of
something?"
"Not sure I remember
where though." He grinned.
She pulled his head down to
hers. "Let me refresh your memory."
They were just coming up for
air when another puff of smoke heralded the return of Halfrek.
This time with Tara and Dawn, both looking slightly green.
"That'll get easier,
right?" Tara asked uncertainly.
"No." Anya said,
remembering her own ride to and back from Arashmaharr.
"Great." Dawn said
as she coughed and waved the smoke away. She wandered over to the ladder and
looked down the hole. "What happened down there?"
"Well, I'm glad I'm not the
only one they keep in the dark."
Dawn turned back to Spike. "Were
you two going to kiss? 'Cause it so looked like
it."
They didn't answer her.
"I mean it's cool if
you're together. It's just that I wanted Spike and Buffy to be together."
"I know you did,
pet." Spike shook his head. "Gotta let go
of that."
"'Cause
it isn't going to happen, is it? She's never going to notice that you've
changed, or that you took care of me all those months, or that you're funny and
really sweet a lot of the time. She treats you like crap and you're just
supposed to take it? Just like she ignores me."
"She doesn't mean
to."
"She doesn't even know I
exist. In fact, she doesn't want me to exist. In her 'normal' world, her
perfect world, I don't exist. I never happened. My sister wishes that I'd never
been born. Or created. Or however it was I came to be." She trailed off,
then very softly said, "Who am I really?"
"You're
our daughter now, Dawn. And we love you and want you." Halfrek
looked at the girl, then at Tara, affection clear in her gaze. She turned to
Anya and Spike. "She was going to run away."
Dawn nodded. "I was
packing when Buffy found me. When she tried to kill me."
"She didn't." Spike
looked pissed.
"She so did."
"I'm afraid she did let
a demon loose on Dawn, and Willow and Xander too," Tara said. "But
Buffy killed the demon before it could harm them. She seemed really out of it,
though. If I hadn't come in when I did..."
Halfrek reached over and squeezed Tara's hand. "It was
meant to be."
Tara continued, "I guess
Buffy wasn't herself. She was sick or something. I wasn't really clear on
that."
"Didn't stick around for
the cleanup?" Spike asked.
"She went after me when
I ran out," Dawn explained. "I just wanted to get away from there. Didn't
stop for my stuff, didn't stop when Buffy yelled for me. Didn't stop till Halfrek and Tara appeared in front of me." Dawn wiped
tears away. "I don't want to go back there. She doesn't want me there. And
I just weigh her down. Only..." She trailed off.
"Only what, honey?"
Tara's voice was gentle.
"Only how can I leave
her? She gave her life for me."
"Bollocks!" Spike
took her by the shoulders. "Yeah, she died. Died for us all, I guess. But
you don't owe her anything. I know what happened up there. You told me enough
times when she was dead. Told me how it should have been you. How you were
ready to jump, standing on the edge when she pulled you away. And haven't you
figured out by now why she did that? Why she wanted to be the one leaping to
oblivion?"
Dawn looked away.
"Buffy died for you
because she wanted to die. Did she even stop to think what kind of life you
would have if she were dead? Does she care now what you've been through? You
pretended for months that a sodding robot was your sister and did it well
enough that Buffy could step back into her life no questions asked. You don't
owe her for that. Seems to me she owes you."
"But—"
"But nothing. You
deserve a home where you can be happy. And maybe it will be better for her if
you're gone. Besides, how long do you think it will be before the family
services people come beating down your door again? Do you really want to end up
with complete strangers?"
Dawn started to cry. Halfrek gently pulled her away from Spike. "I'll take
you where it's safe, Dawn. You and Tara and me—we'll be a family."
Tara joined them. "She's
right, Dawnie. Sunnydale isn't our home. Let's go
find out where it really is?"
Dawn nodded, then looked at
Spike. "Is that the right thing to do?"
He smiled at her. "Some
folks might say I'm not the one to ask. But yeah, I think it is. You know how
much Tara loves you. She and Cec—Halfrek
will take good care of you."
Dawn pulled away from the two
women and launched herself at Spike. "I love you. I can't believe I'll
never see you again."
"Well, I wouldn't say
never. After all, Anya and Halfrek are best
friends."
Anya felt Halfrek's
hand touch hers. Best friends. She'd thought Xander was her best friend.
"Best be going
now," Halfrek said, as if she was reading her
mind. "Anya and Spike have lots to do tonight."
There were hugs and smiles
and a few more tears. And then Halfrek, Tara, and
Dawn were gone in another puff of smoke.
"Don't you lot get tired
of the special effects?"
"Hey, we work hard to master
that trick. Believe me, once you learn it, you want to use it as often as
possible."
"Right." Spike
said. "Now we just have to find Xander when he's not with the other
two."
"Well, it's not like
he's going to just walk in here alone again."
The front door opened. Xander
walked in. "Spike, Dawn's missing and...An?"
He stared at her.
"Hello, Xander."
"What are you...are you
all right?"
"A little late to be
asking me that." She looked at Spike, but he was already moving toward the
door. The sun was just going down. He stepped into the dying light for a quick
look. "He's alone."
Xander never took his eyes
off Anya, even as he explained, "Yeah, I'm alone. Buffy's trying to follow
Dawn and Willow's calling her friends. I thought you could help me look for
her. You know her pretty well. Where would she go?"
"Help you?" Spike
shut the door.
"Help Dawn."
"Dawn doesn't need any
help," Anya said.
Spike moved up behind Xander.
"But you do."
"What is this?" Xander
turned. "What? Do you want to rumble now, Spike? Cuz
maybe later, okay? When I need to get my jollies. Right now, I need to find
Dawn."
"Didn't you hear what
Anya said? Dawn's fine." Spike pulled the hair away from Xander's neck.
"Hey! Knock that off."
He pushed Spike.
Spike just laughed. Touched
him again.
Xander pushed him harder.
"You just left me,"
Anya said. "There at the church...all alone. How could you do that?"
"I didn't mean to. I
mean, I did, but I still love you."
"Still love her? Funny
way of showing it." Spike reached for Xander, only to be swatted away
again.
"You left me to deal
with all of them. How could you?"
"That was...wrong. But I
still love you, An." He held out his hands to her. "I still want to
see you."
Spike laughed. "You left
her at the altar, but you still want to date her?"
"Why does everyone keep
saying it that way? Anya, you're the best thing I've ever had in my life. You
know that."
"I do know that." She
walked up to him and pulled his head down. His lips were warm against hers. She
pushed him away before the touch turned into a kiss. "But it's too
late."
"Why?"
"You hurt her too bad,
boy. Broke something." Spike looked at Anya. "Pushed her into the
dark."
"And you know that cuz you and Anya are so tight?"
Anya walked over to Spike. "We
are now, Xander." She kissed Spike. A long, hot kiss. "Thanks to you.
And Buffy."
"Buffy?" Xander
looked at Spike. "That's what this is all about? You're kissing Anya, but
you're still thinking about Buffy, aren't you? Still hoping she'll break and
give you what you want someday? You think the Slayer is going to fall in love
with you?"
"No, actually, I've
given that up. And I've gotten her out of my system. Shagging can do that for a
person. Bring clarity." He grinned at Anya.
Xander looked horrified. And
confused. "You two? Or you and Buffy?"
"Both." Spike
smirked.
"Baby, this isn't the
way. I mean it, I'm sorry. Don't do this. Don't choose this dirtbag. He's
nothing. He's a monster."
"Maybe we're all
monsters?" She looked up at Spike, then back at Xander. "But that's
okay."
Xander looked confused. "It
is?"
She nodded and looked at
Spike, who reached out for Xander.
Xander punched his arm away. Spike
reached again. Xander's expression turned mean. "You son of a bitch, I've
wanted to do this for a long time now." He punched Spike hard in the face.
Spike punched him back harder, knocking Xander off his feet.
"You're not in
pain." Xander got up slowly, realization finally appearing to dawn. "The
chip. You're chipless."
"Actually, the chip
works great. We just have a small technicality working in my favor. A little
wish thing. Rule number one, never piss off an ex-vengeance demon."
Xander turned to her. "An?"
"Don't call me
that." She turned her back on him, then spun around again. "Who am I
kidding? I want to watch this."
Spike moved so fast that
Xander didn't even have a chance to scream as the life was sucked out of him. And
she noted with satisfaction that he didn't even try to resist when Spike
slashed his own wrist and held it near Xander's face. Xander sought the blood
greedily.
"Goodbye, Xander,"
she whispered as his eyes closed. "See you in hell."
##
Xander woke with a roar. He
lunged forward at Anya, but the shackles encircling his wrists held fast.
"Not worth trying,"
Spike said.
Xander hissed. His face
transformed, the smooth skin giving way to the thicker, bumpier skin of a
vampire. He hissed again.
"Oh, knock it off. Language.
Use it."
"Spike." Xander
looked at him with his normal disdain as his face returned to human. Then his
expression changed to one of dismay. "And my sire."
"That's right." Spike
ripped the top off a bag of blood and held it to Xander's mouth. "This'll
take the edge off. For a while."
Xander drank. "You're my
sire," he said again, as if trying to come to grips with the fact.
"Bites, I know. To hate
me as much as you do, and now to owe me. Can't get around it. Not yet, anyway. Takes
time to work off that kind of emotional linkage. Even that poof Angelus got
more than his fair share of fealty from me before I finally broke free."
Anya studied Xander. He
looked perfectly normal now that his bumps were gone. She tried to find some
regret inside her and failed utterly. The only emotion she felt when she looked
at him was a slight thrill of anticipation. "How do you feel?"
"Good enough to eat
you."
Spike's response was
immediate. He clouted Xander. "She's mine. You don't touch her."
"Hey! She's
my fiancée."
"Ex-fiancée," Anya said.
Xander gave her his softest
look. "Ah, baby. You still holding a grudge?"
She walked up to him. Fished
into her pocket as she smiled. "No, baby," she said as she slammed a
cross onto his bare chest. "No grudges."
He screamed.
Spike just watched, a smile
playing at the corner of his mouth.
Anya pulled the cross away
and stuffed it back into her pocket. "Okay, well, time for us to go."
Spike nodded and followed her
out.
"Hey! What about me?"
Xander's voice was desperate. "I'm your child or whatever."
They turned around. Spike
smiled. "Oh, you'll be fine. You just keep working those shackles and
they'll last half an hour tops."
"And then what?"
"Well, go out and start
killing things. Start with someone you hate if you want. Or hey, if you like
this life, you probably want to get rid of the slayer. She can put a real crimp
in your style, you know."
"Buffy." Xander's
face was thoughtful.
"Buffy. You remember
where she lives or do you want me to draw a map?"
"I remember."
"Good. Let's go,
Anya."
Xander started struggling in
earnest. "Hey, am I ever going to see you again?"
Spike shrugged. "I'm on
the hoping not side. You?" He turned to Anya.
"I could live without
that." She gave Xander a mocking look. "I'd say that you're just not
the most popular vampire around. Good luck with those chains. Oh, and thanks
for your car."
"My car?"
"Yeah, you're giving it
to us." Spike laughed. "I gave you eternal life. Least you can do is
let us have that pile of junk."
Xander didn't seem to agree,
but his protests got fainter as they climbed to the upper level. Spike pulled
the ladder up behind them.
"Won't he need
that?"
"No. But he doesn't know
that. Not having it will really piss him off for a while." He grinned at
her.
"So
you only had it around for the humans."
"Yeah, stupid me." They
walked in silence to Xander's car and drove the short distance to Buffy's
house. Parking on the street behind hers, they walked around the block and up
the porch stairs. He rang the bell a few quick times in succession.
"Thought you could go
in?"
"I can." He rang
the bell again. "I just know it annoys her when people do this."
The door flew open. "This
better be...Spike?" Buffy looked at him in confusion, then seemed to
notice who was with him. "Anya?"
"Surprised to see
me?"
"Well, yeah. How are
you? Where did you go? We couldn't find you." Buffy stepped aside. "Come
in."
"Thanks." Anya
stepped in. Willow was sitting at the dining room table, working on her
computer. "Where's Dawn?"
"Missing." Buffy's
face fell. "We've looked everywhere. Even Xan..."
"It's ok, you can say
his name. I won't freak out." Anya let Spike brush past her, toward the
back door. "Even Xander what?"
"He went after her. And
now he's missing too."
"I'm sure he'll turn
up."
"Have you seen
him?"
Anya ignored Buffy. "He's
been staying here, hasn't he?"
Buffy just nodded but she looked
faintly guilty. "He's my friend. I couldn't turn
him away."
"Even if what he did was
wrong?"
"Even then. He knows he
was a jerk. We all know that. He shouldn't have left you that way, you're
right."
"He's a bastard. Deserves
to suffer."
Willow took a deep breath. "Xander
has issues. You know, family issues. Sometimes those haunt
you." Her defense of Xander didn't surprise Anya. She was always doing
that. And she had to give them credit. The real Scoobies
knew how to stick together.
"We all have family
issues. Xander's not unique. He can choose not to act like his family. He's not
his father."
Buffy shook her head. "Sometimes
it's not that easy."
"He chose not to go
through with the wedding. He could have chosen the other path just as
easily."
Willow got up. "But if
he wasn't sure, if this wasn't what he wanted, then you can't expect him to
have gone through with it."
"Why not? How did he
know what he wanted? Look at the state he was in, after what that demon showed
him. How did he know his own mind?"
Buffy looked skeptical.
"So, you think he should have just gone through with it?"
"Yes."
"And then gotten a
divorce when it didn't work out?" Willow asked, her voice the snidely
patronizing one Anya hated.
"If it didn't
work out, you mean?"
"Anya, you two had a
really volatile relationship. Odds are it might not have lasted. I mean,
sometimes it's easy to get lost in really great sex." Buffy looked over at
Spike guiltily, then with suspicion. "Why are you here?"
"Just watching."
"Watching what?"
"All of it."
"Oh." Buffy looked
even more suspicious. Then she seemed to realize that Anya was glaring at her. "Is
something wrong?"
"Nothing was, until you
came along."
"Huh?"
"What did you say to
him?"
"Who? When?"
This was going nowhere. Anya
looked at Spike in frustration.
He raised an eyebrow and
said, "Got about ten minutes, love. You probably want to move on to the
good part."
"What good part?" Willow
looked at Spike warily. "Buffy, something's wrong."
"Score one for the
witch. Oh, sorry, ex-witch. Or recovering witch. Or
whatever the hell you are." Anya went to stand beside Spike.
He draped his arm over her
shoulders in an easy movement.
Buffy's eyebrows rose. "You
two are together?"
"We are. And we're
leaving town. Had enough of you and Xander to last a lifetime."
"Look, just because
someone doesn't love someone else doesn't make them a bad person," Buffy said.
"If he didn't love me,
he shouldn't have let me believe he did. How could he let me plan a
wedding?"
"It was a mistake, Anya.
He didn't mean to hurt you." Willow almost sounded like she cared.
"Well, he did hurt me. He
hurt me way too much to just forgive."
"So
you go off with Spike? That's your big solution?" Buffy looked at the two
of them, then focused on Spike. "Why are you doing this? You and"—her
voice caught as she tried not to laugh—"Anya?"
"You jealous,
love?"
Her amusement seemed to
evaporate. Anya thought she saw real emotion in Buffy's expression. "No. I'm
not. But what about all your big declarations? I thought you loved me."
"Loved you? How can you
even ask that? I did whatever you wanted, Buffy. I became whatever you needed. And
when what you needed changed from encounter to encounter, I became that too. You
wanted me to be noble. I was noble. Sacrifice myself for the little bit, no
problem. Help you fight a god, then bring her on. Work with people I hate, who
hate me too, will do."
He sneered at her. "You
wanted me to not break during torture for love of you and Dawn, I didn't break.
Wanted to get rid of the Eagle Scout, I gave you a reason. Needed an ear to
wail into when they brought you back against your will, I gave you mine. Called
out for someone to stop you from dying on a sodding dance floor, I did
it." His voice rose. "You wanted me to shag you till you couldn't
think, I did. Touch you till you forgot every last thing you hated about your
sad little life, I gave you that. What didn't I give
you, Buffy, that I could give? When did I ever say no?"
She looked down.
"Loved you? You're
beneath me." He turned to Anya. "Ready, love?"
She could hear Xander outside
the house. The bell rang and Buffy answered it. Saw Buffy break into a smile at
the sight of Xander.
Anya laughed. Perfect timing.
"Oh, look, speak of the devil."
"Will. Buff. Let me
in." Xander's voice was more seductive than Anya had ever heard it. His
eyes were soulful, pleading.
Anya took in Buffy's face. Then
Willow's. They knew. They understood. And they were in hell. Good.
"Stake him or give him
back his soul. That's your choice."
"I'll stake you,"
Buffy said. Before she could act on that threat, Xander grabbed her and yanked
her out the door. The sound of fighting erupted. Willow rushed outside.
"That's our cue to leave,"
Spike said cheerily as he led her out the back door and through the neighbor's
yard.
"Ever been to New
Orleans?" she asked him.
"Ugh, too many vampire wannabe's running around. All that Rice woman's
fault."
"Really? I like that
kind of weather though. Hot and sticky. Sexy. How about Rio?"
"Love Rio."
"Yeah, me too. It's
where D'Hoffryn assigns new demons. I think there
might be a market for someone with my background. You know, someone who knows
the demon world and knows what it's like to be human too."
He laughed. "What? You're
going to open up a little consulting firm?"
"Why not? Maybe a magic
shop, too," she said wistfully as she took the hand
he held out for her. "And I'm sure we can find something for you to
do."
"Oh, plenty to do there.
For starters, teach your kind some combat skills. Some of you really don't know
much about fighting. If you'd been better trained, Giles wouldn't have gotten
the jump on you in that alternate universe you keep talking about."
"Good point. Okay then,
we're set. Think Xander's car can make it?"
"Dunno.
If we have to, we'll trade his tools for repairs. Or trade it for another car. Might
be smart to start muddying up the trail. Buffy and Willow will be out for blood
if they survive this...and each other."
"Whatever you say,"
she said settling into the seat, finally relaxing. As they drove to the train
station to get her suitcase, she saw a shooting star. Centuries ago, her mother
had told her to make a wish every time she saw one. But now she didn't have to—there
were no wishes left in her. She thought of Xander's face, realized that it
would be a long time before she didn't think of him. Xander happy, Xander in
love, Xander in pain, Xander dying, Xander rising again. So many Xanders that would haunt her. A
price she'd have to pay.
Oh well, she thought with a
mental shrug as she reached over and stuck her favorite tape in the player. Payback's
a bitch.
FIN