“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?”
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