26.
His Last Love
A/N: Yes, I know I'm evil :P No answers to
Buffy's question yet...next chapter though, I promise :) Hope you like
this one anyway, thanx for reading
Xander ran for all he was worth – but he knew that Anya had already
gone too far for him to easily catch up. He stopped on the sidewalk
about a block from the house, trying to catch his breath – unaware of
the irony as he stood in exactly the same spot where Spike had decided
a bit earlier that night to return to Buffy's house – and forced
himself to just slow down and think for a minute.
*Ahn, Honey – where are you?* he thought desperately, not sure if the
dull ache in his chest was from running so fast when he was so out of
shape, or from the fear and pain at the thought of actually losing her.
Suddenly, it occurred to him where she might have gone.
*Our place,* he thought, adding to himself with a little grimace, *Even
if she's only there to pack her things.*
He took off at a run again, headed for the little apartment that he had
bought in the first place mostly for her. Maybe he could catch her in
time – he had to make her understand, how foolish, how wrong he had
been.
How very much he truly *loved* her – in spite of the unintentionally
cruel things he had said.
*Stupid truth spell...*
He had known that she would be there, and was not surprised when he
walked through the front door to see her standing in the kitchen, near
the window, her back to him as she gazed out at the clear night sky.
The soft sound of a sniffle told him what he already knew would be true.
She had been crying.
She did not move, though he knew that she had heard him come in –
couldn't have possibly missed it, with all the racket he was making
with his clumsy, hurried entrance – and that was vaguely unsettling to
him.
He didn't know what else he had expected, really – for her to turn and
face him with the same hopeful adoration in her gaze that she always
seemed to give him no matter how impatient or hard on her he had been?
For her to yell and scream and threaten him with all the things she
could and would have done to him, if only she'd had her powers back –
things that they both knew she would never actually do to him, even if
she could?
He knew one thing – what he had expected was definitely *not* the total
ignoring of his presence that she was actually doing.
It made him feel suddenly uneasy, vulnerable – and drove all of his
prepared words right out of his mind.
Hesitantly he stepped toward her, his voice quiet and timid as he said
softly, "Ahn? Honey?"
She did not respond at all – did not even look at him.
"Please, Anya – please talk to me," he persisted cautiously, as he
slowly closed the distance between them – at least physically.
That was all that was in his power to do at the moment.
Just as he had nearly reached her, she finally spoke, though she did
not turn to face him. "What is it exactly that you want me to say,
Xander? 'Hi, Honey – I'm so glad your childhood love whom I can never
compare to gave you permission to come home to me – your *actual*
girlfriend. Wanna have sex now?'"
He barely had time to register the sarcasm in her voice, before she
turned suddenly to face him, her eyes shining with hurt and tears,
looking so lost and bewildered and betrayed that it hurt his heart just
to look at her – knowing that *he* had made her look at him like that.
"I don't even *want* to have sex with you, Xander!" she said in a voice
of incredulous disbelief. "Do you realize what that means? How bad this
is?" she demanded in a trembling, tearful voice.
Her simple, honest way of speaking made her words all the more
painfully effective.
Yeah, coming from Anya – that meant it must be pretty freakin' bad.
"Anya," he said in a near whisper, holding her gaze with deep,
sorrowful brown eyes, as he moved in as close as he dared. "Honey – I
am *so*...*sorry*. I don't know why I did such a stupid thing! I don't
know why I didn't – why I didn't come after you, and went after Buffy
instead, Anya – why I couldn't – couldn't make up my mind..."
His frank wording reminded him suddenly, with a sense of alarm, that he
was still bound to the absolute truth. But then, he reminded himself –
maybe that wasn't such a bad thing, after all.
Maybe it was actually of the good.
Maybe it was time *everything* came out in the open between them. They
couldn't go into a marriage hiding things from each other, big things
that could later come back to hurt and haunt them for the rest of their
lives. It was time to just be completely honest with each other – for
better or worse.
He just hoped that when all the cards were on the table, all his
frailties and fears revealed to her perusal – she would still choose
him.
"Really?" Anya replied bitterly, " 'Cause I do! It's because I'm your
second choice, Xander! You're still secretly in love with her, but it's
all too clear, especially now, that you'll never be with her—so you
*settled* for me!"
"I'm not 'settling' for you, Anya! I *love* you!" Xander insisted. "How
can I be settling when you're exactly what I want?"
"You *want* Buffy!" she shot back accusingly.
"Until I met you I didn't *know* what I wanted!" he nearly exploded,
frustration and fear of losing her evident on his face and in his
trembling voice.
The surprise in her vulnerable green eyes softened his tone, as he went
on, quieter, "I thought I wanted Buffy – but I was only fooling myself,
Anya. It's you that I want – for the rest of my life."
"You did a pretty good job with the whole fooling yourself thing," she
said in a bitingly sarcastic voice, born of her hurt and jealousy. "You
even fooled me!"
"Anya – I'll admit to you – I loved Buffy, for a long time, long before
I ever met you. She was always just this – this beautiful, strong –
completely unattainable woman..." Xander tried to explain.
"*So* not helping,* she muttered, rolling her eyes as she turned away
from him again before he could see the fresh tears his words were
creating.
"No, Ahn," he said urgently, trying to draw her attention back to him,
reaching out to take her arm – relieved when she allowed him to turn
her back around to face him. "Please listen to me – it's like – Buffy
was my very first love – you know? You know that first person that you
ever really fall for? No matter what else happens for the rest of your
life, you kind of – keep them on this pedestal, and it's not really
them, it's like this – perfect picture of the way you saw them back
then – but they'll always be kind of special in your eyes...you know?"
When she just stared at him with a blank, expectant look that told him
that she was still waiting for the part that was supposed to make her
feel better, he sighed wearily, looking down for a moment before
searching her eyes again.
"You had a first love – didn't you?" he asked, almost timidly.
"Yes," she answered flatly with a little shrug. "Really wasn't all that
great. He was an unfaithful creep and I turned him into a troll."
"Yes, but," Xander continued a bit impatiently – wondering briefly at
how frighteningly normal that statement sounded to him after living all
his life on the Hellmouth, "you actually got to be with your first
love, for a while," he pointed out, a bit awkwardly. "You got to see
all the flaws. I never did. So – I guess a part of me just kind of –
kept Buffy up there on this pedestal, like this – I don't know – I know
I'm messing this whole thing up – do you kinda get what I'm trying to
say though?"
He gave her a hopeful, sheepish, questioning look – that was met with
the same calm, blank stare.
"Yes, Xander," she snapped back, her voice slowly rising in incredulity
at his words. "You're expecting me to somehow believe that if you could
be with *Buffy* for a little while, then it will help you to love *me*
better! That it'd be good for our relationship! You're actually
expecting me to *believe* this crap?"
"No! I mean yes – I mean – it's not crap, Anya – and I *don't* want to
be with Buffy!" Xander protested, fighting back his own temper at her
apparent refusal to understand. "Anyway, it doesn't matter! I love
*you* -- not Buffy. I can see that now. What I thought I felt for Buffy
was never anything more than a fantasy. What we have, Anya – that's
real."
He paused, his voice soft and earnest as he continued, meeting her eyes
imploringly, "I've never felt for anyone what I've felt for you, Anya.
Buffy may have been my first love – but you – you're my last, Anya.
This is it. Me and you -- *forever*, honey. And I don't want anyone
else."
Anya's eyes widened as she took in his demeanor – gentle and humble and
pleading – his words full of a love and affection that a part of her
still thirsted for desperately – and then, her eyes narrowed in
suspicious recognition.
"Now, where have I seen this before?" she spat out bitterly. "Let me
think – oh, right! On the faces of a thousand different liars,
philanderers and abusers – right before I ripped their entrails from
their bodies and shoved them right back down their throats!"
Xande recoiled slightly from the vivid imagery, alarmed – and the sad
accepted that suddenly flooded Anya's eyes, wiping out the anger, sent
a pain through his heart worse than anything she had said.
"You don't love me, Xander," she said, shaking her head. "The only way
you can even convince yourself that you do is to pretend that the
greater part of my existence -- *didn't* exist."
Her eyes welled with tears, but her jaw set in a firm line as she went
on quietly, in a trembling voice of hurt accusation, "You think you can
just come in here and spout of a bunch of pretty words and beautiful
promises that you won't be able to keep, and make this all better just
like that?" She snapped her fingers, shaking her head slowly in denial
of the idea. "It doesn't work that way. I've heard it all before,
Xander..."
"But I mean it, Anya! Every word! Ahn – I couldn't lie to you if I
tried! The..."
"Stop, Xander."
She cut him off firmly, pausing for a moment to collect her thoughts,
before going on softly, "You constantly put me down. You tell me all
the time how I'm not normal – how much I embarrass you – sometimes the
way that you look at me..." She shook her head slowly, trying to find
words for her painful emotions. "...as if – as if you're not really sure
who I am – Xander – how can you marry me when I make you so scared and
unhappy all the time?"
"*You* make *me*...?" he echoed incredulously, shaking his head in
disbelief. "Anya – I worry every day if I'm going to be able to make
you happy – to live up the expectations you must have after so long –
to be the man that an amazing woman like you deserves! If you catch me
looking at you funny – it's because I can't believe that you're
actually mine – that *I'm* going to get to spend the rest of my life
with someone as incredible as you..."
"That's very easy to *say*, Xander," she dismissed his heartfelt words
in a sad, tired voice, though she longed to embrace them – and him.
"It's easy to lie when you think you're sparing someone's feelings."
"But that's just it, Anya! I can't lie to you! Not tonight! Because of
this whole vengeance truth spell..."
Anya frowned, confused. "What vengeance truth spell?" she asked.
Xander was a bit taken aback. "Um – the truth spell that's been over
everyone at Buffy's party all night? Turns out Dawn accidentally made a
wish to a vengeance demon that nobody could keep secrets from each
other."
Anya shook her head, her expression surprised but calm. "I hadn't
noticed."
"Ahn, how could you not notice?" Xander asked, disbelieving again.
"Everyone was just blurting out their deepest darkest secrets, saying
whatever was the first thing that popped into their heads, just being
completely and brutally blunt and honest...."
He stopped suddenly.
"No, wait – never mind, you *wouldn't* have noticed."
The brief flash of hurt in Anya's eyes as she pulled away took him by
surprise. He had only been trying to lighten the mood a bit with his
teasing.
"See, that's what I'm talking about! You're always making fun of me,
Xander – pointing out what a bad human I make!" she declared in
frustration, turning away from him again.
"No, Anya – I was only teasing – that's one of the things I love about
you! Really! How totally real and open you are..." He paused, suddenly
looking a bit surprised by his own words. "See? I *have* to mean it!"
he laughed, nervous and hopeful at the same time.
Anya stared at him for a moment, processing the truth of what he was
telling her.
"Anya," he pressed gently toward her, taking her arms in his hands and
gazing into her eyes. "I'm telling you right now, and you know it's the
truth. I love you – more than anyone else, ever. I want to spend the
rest of my life with you. And if you ask me to choose between you and
*anyone* else – I'll never make the same mistake again. I'll *always*
choose you – I promise."
She looked up at him a bit dubiously, her expression oddly unreadable.
"We – need to get to the house. If it's a vengeance wish then they
could be in real danger," Anya said abruptly, changing the subject as
she pulled out of his gentle grasp and turned toward the door.
"But – Anya – we need to talk about this!" Xander insisted. "You know I
mean it, right?"
Anya stopped at the door, glancing back over her shoulder at him,
hesitating before she replied. "Yes," she said finally. "I know you
mean it."
"Then – why do you need time – if you know that I mean it?" he asked,
his voice small and fearful.
God, if he still lost her, after all this...!
Anya was silent for a moment before giving her answer, just before
leading the way out the door.
"I need time – to figure out how much difference that makes."
And without another word, she headed out the door, making her way back
towards Buffy's house.
And in an ironic, poetic justice-y reverse of their usual positions --
all he could do was follow in her wake.