106. Choices
"Okay, this is
*so* not fair!" Xander objected
in a shaky voice, backing away from his best friend, who at the moment
appeared every bit the furious Slayer, and not at all like the
fun-loving, pleasant girl he had come to know and love during the past
few years. "I didn't even *do* anything, Buffy!"
"How can you still say that, after everything that's happened?" Dawn
burst out angrily, stepping toward the young man she had once idolized,
only restrained by her mother's firm hand on her arm. "After the way
you've treated Spike?"
All that she could picture at the moment was her best friend, battered
and bleeding and barely clinging to life, being carelessly dragged and
dropped by Xander as he and Giles had taken him into the mansion.
Joyce could remember the same incident, and others like it, that proved
how very wrong Xander was about his own level of guilt in the situation
– but she knew that it would not help anything to have Dawn getting in
the middle of the intensifying confrontation between Buffy and Xander.
And besides – Buffy seemed to have everything under control at the
moment.
"And that's exactly the attitude that's gonna get your rear kicked all
over this room, Xander," the Slayer replied to Xander's defense without
missing a beat, her voice calm and even, smiling, though her eyes were
still serious as she slowly advanced on him. "That 'I'm always right,
couldn't possibly have done anything wrong' attitude. You know – you're
my best friend – but right now I *really* wanna punch your stubborn,
judgmental, pig-headed face in!"
Holding up a finger in the universal gesture for "wait", Xander
continued backing away from Buffy, as the rest of the room swiftly
moved backward, out of their path, as Buffy slowly backed her friend up
toward the wall behind him, leaving him with no where else to go. She
stared at him with an expectant, challenging sort of smile on her face,
waiting for his response.
Of course, it was not long in coming.
"See – that's the kind of talk that can only lead to badness, because,
the punching of the best friend? *So* not an acceptable means of
communication, Buffy!" Xander babbled nervously, his voice cracking
about halfway through the sentence as the Slayer's glimmering emerald
eyes narrowed coolly on his.
"I don't know what exactly I've said or done to make you this mad, but
I promise you whatever it is, I did for your own good, Buffy!" he
insisted, his dark brown eyes wide and pleading. "I just don't want to
see you taken in by his act! He's only gonna hurt you in the long run,
Buffy, and I'm your *best friend*! Can you blame me if I don't wanna
see that happen?"
Xander missed Anya's little huff of disbelief, rolling her eyes – but
Buffy did not. It was quite clear that Xander's girlfriend felt his
explanation of his motives was not quite accurate. She glanced at the
former vengeance demon, before looking back at Xander, a dawning
understanding in her eyes.
"You know," she said thoughtfully after a moment, regarding him coolly,
"I think I may have misjudged you, Xander..."
He nodded hurriedly, jumping on the words that seemed to be a way out
of the situation. "I agree with you Buffy, I'm sure you have,
Buffy...this is all just one great big, mixed up misunder..."
"If anyone had asked me three days ago, who had the biggest, most
unselfish heart of anyone I know – I would have probably said you,
Xander," Buffy continued as if he hadn't even spoken, shaking her head
slowly in a sort of sad disbelief. "Boy, was I wrong."
"Um...okay...maybe not so much with the complete agreement," Xander
frowned, a sick feeling rising up in the pit of his stomach that had
nothing to do with Buffy's threats of physical violence.
The thought that his friend had lost so much faith in him as a person
was a sobering one indeed. He and Buffy and Willow had been friends for
so long now, he could hardly stand to think that he could be losing
Buffy's friendship now – and the cold, distant tone of her voice at the
moment, the absolute disappointment expressed by her words, told him
that that was a distinct possibility.
"Hey!" Willow spoke up indignantly – after an incredulous glance at
Anya made it clear that she was not going to be the one to take up for
her boyfriend. "That's not fair, Buffy! You know that Xander cares
about you very much! There's no way that he meant anything but your
good to come out of anything he's said or..."
"I know he cares, Will," Buffy cut her off, her voice soft, her eyes
never leaving Xander's face. "Maybe – a little *too* much."
Both Xander and Anya visibly flinched at the words – and Buffy
immediately knew that she was much more on target than she wanted to be.
"I think," she went on slowly, sort of figuring it out as she went
along, "that you came across as so sweet and genuine and caring, that I
always just kind of assumed that went along with a gentle, accepting
heart – which obviously is not the case. And – I'm starting to wonder
now – if I would have even seen that kindness and generosity – if I
wasn't..." she shrugged as she continued, tears of fresh hurt welling in
her eyes, "...blonde – or – or pretty, or – or whatever it is that makes
you think that you want to be with..."
"Buffy, stop!" Xander interrupted, an almost anguished desperation in
his voice as he glanced with panic between his friend facing him, and
his girlfriend standing a few yards away – both with tears streaming
down their faces. "Buffy – that's not true..." he objected. "I've never
thought of you as anything but – but a friend. At least – not in a very
long time..."
But his voice was weak, uncertain – and his eyes told a very different
story.
Buffy did not even acknowledge his denial. Nearly everyone in the room
knew how far from the truth it really was.
"I think," she went on softly, her eyes momentarily downcast, "that
you've been using that – that opinion of you that I've held – that
image of this kind, caring person – to get away with anything you feel
like saying – even if it's the most cruel, hateful thing you can think
of – to make it sound like you're trying to – to *protect* me...when what
it's *really* about – is...keeping anyone else from being with me!"
"Buffy, no!" Xander objected, shaking his head, his eyes wide with
horror. "No, that's not true! When have I..."
"Let's see," Buffy did not even hesitate, cutting him off immediately,
her blazing eyes boring into his again as she went on, her voice
trembling with hurt anger and accusation. "Try five minutes after Spike
let me beat the crap out of him to save Dawn – having the nerve to
suggest that we just stake him to 'take care of the problem' – now I
wonder which 'problem' you were talking about!"
She began counting on her fingers as she went on, before anyone could
interrupt her, "Taking every opportunity you've gotten to hit Spike, or
threaten him, or insult him, ever since you found out he couldn't hit
you back...or maybe it was since you found out that we had any sort of
connection whatsoever..."
"Okay, Buffy...pot. Kettle. Look it up," Xander finally snapped, his own
anger starting to rise at the accusations, many of which struck far too
close for comfort to truths that he had not yet even admitted to
himself – but could hardly find the words to deny. "Up until about two
days ago, you were doing the exact same things to Spike, so I really
don't see where you get off..."
"I'll admit – I already have, several times, actually – I've made some
pretty bad mistakes, Xander," Buffy conceded, her voice softening
slightly. "I haven't treated Spike right, either. And I'm going to be
making up for that for a while. But that doesn't make the way you've
treated him okay, just because *I've* messed up too! This is about
*you*, Xander – and the way you try to keep any man out of my life that
is not Xander Harris!"
In the silence that followed her words, Anya's quiet little sniffle was
cleary audible, and Buffy looked at her for a moment, a sorrowful
apology in her eyes – but she could not back down – not now. If she was
honest with herself, she knew that Xander's unspoken, underlying
feelings for her had been a problem in his relationship with Anya for
some time already.
*Better that they come out in the open and be dealt with *now*, than to
be allowed to linger, festering, until maybe it's too late to do a
bloody thing about it...*
Spike's gentle words in her mind, his response to the things she had
only thought, gave Buffy the courage to go on, when she might have
backed down, to spare her friends any further pain.
"You're not *with* me, Xander," Buffy declared firmly, meeting her
friend's eyes again – though he could not hold her gaze anymore. "You
never have been – and yet – you're so possessive with me...it's – it's
not healthy, Xander. You *have* a girlfriend."
She paused, glancing at Anya before going on gently, "A beautiful,
intelligent girlfriend – who cares about you very much. And – and I
know you care about her too. Are you gonna let some – some high school
crush that's built up in your head into something it never was destroy
that?"
Xander could not respond – could not look at either girl, his head
bowed, his eyes downcast, as Buffy went on.
"You don't have the right to make choices about who I allow into my
life, Xander. *I* do. No one else. All you have a choice about in this,
is whether or not you still want to be friends with me once I've made
my choice. And I have made it, Xander. And it's Spike." Buffy's voice
was unyielding, leaving no room for argument.
Still – Xander managed to find some.
His voice was quiet, subdued – but much less confrontational now.
"Buffy – he's a vampire. A soulless,.disgusting demon," he repeated
stubbornly, and quite unnecessarily – and although his voice was calm,
his anger was still visible in his dark eyes. "A *killer*, Buffy. And
that can't change..."
"That's what I thought, too," Buffy nodded slowly, her eyes wide and
serious as she sought her friend's gaze. "But now -- I *know* him. And
I'm telling you as the Slayer – as Spike's *mate* -- that he *has*
changed – he doesn't kill anymore."
Xander was quiet for a long moment, before answering softly, "I'm not
so sure that matters, Buffy."
He was so caught up in the conversation with his friend, that he
completely missed his girlfriend's flinch of shock at the statement,
and the look of hurt, insecurity, and betrayal in her eyes as the words
sank in, registering with her in all their implications for her, and
their already severely wounded relationship.
Oblivious, Xander went on, "How can you expect me to just *accept* that
– when three days ago you would have considered those things alone
enough reason to just stake him without asking any questions? I can't
just *do* that, Buffy – not that fast. Maybe not at all."
"I'm not asking you to, Xander," Buffy argued, her voice taking on a
slightly pleading note as she met her friend's eyes earnestly, honestly
longing to make him see where she was coming from. "I'm just asking you
to *try*..."
"Buffy, I – I don't even know if I...if I can..."
"Well, I've said my piece, Xander," Buffy cut off his anxious, yet more
subdued, ramblings, her voice still quiet and calm, but unyielding as
stone. "And I can respect that. So – you just let me know when you
figure that out."
Xander's eyes widened in shock at the subtle yet clear ultimatum of her
words – and then his jaw set in stubborn anger, though there was still
a bit of fear and uncertainty in his eyes, at the thought of cutting
off a friendship that had lasted as long as theirs had.
"Fine," he bit off the words. "I will." He paused before adding, "If
you're not willing to be any more reasonable about this than that -- I
think that about covers it for now, doesn't it? I'm out of here. Come
on, Ahn."
He started toward the door – then suddenly stopped, turning back to
look hesitantly, yet expectantly, at his girlfriend – who had not moved
once from where she stood near the wall.
"Come on," he repeated, a bit impatiently. "We need to..."
His words broke off abruptly when he caught sight of the look in her
expressive green eyes.
"Anya?" he said, a questioning note to his hushed voice, as he turned
around and headed toward her. "Ahn, Honey – you don't really think..."
As his hand reached out to touch hers, she suddenly jerked it away, as
if his touch had burned her, staring up at him with a look of betrayal
in her eyes.
"Anya," Xander whispered, his eyes widening in shock.
"Go on, Xander," she replied, her voice hardened, but trembling, as she
met his eyes intently, her pain obvious in her own. "Like Buffy said –
you have some things to think about – some decisions to make. Like –
whether you can live with the fact that she's mated for life to a
soulless demon who's killed thousands...but is trying to change. Or," her
voice softened, her eyes dropped to the floor as she went on, "whether
*you* can live with a possibly soulless, ex-demon who's killed more
than that...but is – is trying *so hard*..."
Her voice broke over the words, and she lowered her head into her
hands, turning slightly away from him, embarrassed by her raw,
unrestrained emotions in the face of the man who had just injured them
so badly.
"Ahn – Honey..." Xander protested, reaching out to take her arms and turn
her back to face him.
She immediately pulled away from him, looking up abruptly to glare at
him through tear-soaked, shimmering green eyes, as she finished as if
he had not spoken at all, "...and last but not least...whether you wanna
keep on carrying a torch for a woman who will never love you – who is
essentially married to someone else...or...or whether you wanna love *me*."
"Anya – of *course* I..."
"*Don't*, Xander!" she insisted, her voice rising slightly with anger
and determination. "Don't just – just say it – not until you're sure
that you mean it!"
Xander stood there for a moment, meeting her penetrating gaze – until
he had to look away.
And the unspoken words were far too clear.
At the moment – he really couldn't give her an honest answer.
Abruptly – most likely to prevent his girlfriend and the rest of the
room from seeing his own emotions on full display – Xander turned and
stalked out the door, into the night.
A somber silence fell over the room for a few moments, before Buffy
turned away from the door to face her assembled friends – less one –
again.
"Well – is anyone *not* clear on where I stand on the issue of me and
Spike?"
No one spoke up, their silence an admission that they did indeed
understand.
"Anyone not clear on exactly how I feel about their part in this mess?"
she went on.
Again, the silence was all the response she needed.
"Good," she said softly, her serious green eyes looking up to meet her
Watcher's blue ones as she quietly changed the subject.
"Now – there was something you came here to tell me?"