Title: I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues
Author: Jane McCartney
Disclaimer: Xander's mine, but if you wanna believe he's Joss's, fine! Whatever! I can always have my share of fun with Spike, Gunn, Wesley or Lindsey, you know? And...what? They aren't mine too? Damn!
Rating: PG
Feedback: As previously said, I'm rather fond of it. Yes, watch out, I'm crazy for it! [evil maniacal laugh echoes]
E-mail: janemccartney@bol.com.br
Distribution: Just tell me first and everybody will be happy in the end, okay?
Acknowledgments: To those who sent and send me reviews. Love ya, guys. And also, Theo, Theo and Theo. Without him, all my work would be just a bunch of nonsensical words in crappy English.
Author's note: This is a two-chapter thing. I just came up with the thought an hour ago, and here 'tis. Hope you'll enjoy!
Summary: A telephone call. An old friendship. What recollections will a spicy combination like this result in?
***
One ring of the damned telephone.
"I'll get it, I'll get it!" Anya bolted out from behind the bathroom door, wearing nothing more than a white cotton towel to cover her nakedness.
Xander grinned, looking at his fiancée as she hurriedly ran towards the phone. "You know, you never used to get this excited when we go out."
Anya stopped and glared at him, then stared down at the cotton towel thoughtfully. "But we never go out anymore," she stated accusingly.
Two rings of the damned telephone.
"Hey, we do so go out... we, we were at two parties last week!"
"Oh," the former demoness blurted out, sounding more than a little confused. "Should I wear this to your boss's next boring party, then?"
A prompt gasp. "Ahn, honey? If you want a poor and unemployed husband, yep is your answer. And... wait a sec, who says my boss's parties are boring? Free food, free beer... could someone honestly wish for more?" Xander replied casually, standing up from the couch and walking through the living room to the kitchen.
Three rings of the damned telephone.
"I could! Uh, lemme see," Anya mused, raising her hand and counting off the possibilities on each raised finger. "A million dollars, a marathon of non- stop sex, a king-size turkey sandwich, and please â€" let's try to be reasonable here, a law to forbid bunnies in America? And having Buffy back, of course..."
Anya rationalized her last point, "Then I'd be able to get some sleep these days, instead of waiting up for you every night to come back alive and with no missing body parts from the patrolling."
Four rings of the damned telephone.
The blonde girl could only see Xander's back, but she didn't need to see more to feel his sudden agitation and tenseness though.
"And, and she was a very nice person too; she was strong, and, well, she didn't have too much of a sense of humor after Glory showed up, but..." Anya added tentatively, though each and every word spoken directly from her heart. "I like Buffy!"
Her smile grew bigger, only to fade away in the very next second. "I mean, I liked Buffy. A whole lot."
Xander stayed silent, quietly and clumsily spooning some cereal into the childish bowl. But still, the dark-haired young man kept his back to his fiancée.
And as for the damned telephone, there was no more ringing at last.
"I thought you were gonna get it," Xander stated, opening the refrigerator and taking out a carton of milk. He loudly opened the lid, and the noise of milk splashing into the bowl of cereal seems to be the only existing sound for the two of them, at that moment.
"Get what?" Anya asked in the same low and awkward voice.
"The phone," he replied, rather harshly. The blonde woman shivered.
"Well, I didn't," the former demoness stated the obvious, clutching her towel more tightly to her body, suddenly feeling the need to do so.
A frown. "I don't understand. You loved her. Willow and Giles did too. Why can't you ever talk about her, then? Don't you guys have any good memories of Buffy?"
There wasn't any milk to be splashed this time, only a tense and thick silence to contemplate the awkwardness of the moment.
"You know, it'd be good for Dawn. To talk about her â€" Buffy? Every time she begins a conversation with her sister's name in it, you guys cut her off as if she was some kind of creepy alien or something," Anya pointed out, her hazel eyes following every move of the construction worker protectively.
He opened the refrigerator, and Xander then placed the carton of milk back in its place. The young man subsequently closed the door with an absent- mindedly severe thump, and the entire room rattled. The box of cereal remained standing though, barely, on the wooden table.
Xander slowly, almost fearfully returned Anya's gaze. Immediately, a feeling of comfort flooded deep into his soul.
Although, the blonde seemed to feel the opposite. Uncomfortable â€" with his presence, for his presence.
But the former Zeppo realized, once again, how much of a brave, gorgeous girl she was â€" for Anya didn't divert her eyes from his even once.
"It's hard," he admitted. "Buffy is... was, she *was* a very dear friend. Without her, a lotta things changed â€" we still have to find the right way to go on with our lives, Ahn. But it'll take some time till we get there."
Xander approached her, but Anya promptly moved away from his intended embrace. So the dark-haired man just stood there, lost in utter confusion.
"Why do you keep treating me as if I'm some sort of stupid child, who can't understand how much Buffy truly meant to you? All of you? What â€" you think I don't see how you're trying to mentally fake it she's still around, as if that's going to make things any easier? Or do you think I can't see how much Willow's gotten into dark magick, and you're choosing to overlook it completely?"
At Anya's sudden but not unforeseen explosion, Xander recoiled, almost as if in shame.
"I'll tell you something, it won't! Make things easier, that is. If you guys choose to keep ignoring Dawn, or pretend Willow isn't sinking deeper and deeper into a whole lot of trouble, fine by me! But don't try to convince me it's not wrong!"
Xander started to say, "Ahn..."
"Buffy wouldn't like it, ya know? She gave her life for you guys, and you're throwing her gift away," the former demoness paused with a frown, her tone suddenly getting impressively lighter and thoughtful in a split second. "She'd hate that. Buffy was a very temperamental person, after all."
"Anya, honey â€" listen, I know you aren't a child, and I'm sorry if I ever made you feel as if you were one," Xander said, grabbing the forgotten bowl of cereal and gently placing it onto the sink to probably eat it later, suddenly feeling like he wasn't hungry anymore.
"I know how much you were hurt by Buffy's death, and I do understand Xander, I do!" Anya rejoined, obviously ignoring the words said by him a second before. "Look, I know when a person is about to do something very stupid â€" I was a demon for more than a millennium, and some things you just know with time. And you, you're all only one step away from big ka-ka! Even a three-hundred-year old newbie could tell."
Xander scowled skeptically, as his significant other blinked innocently. "What? I did say more than a millennium, didn't I?"
"You're right," Xander uttered quietly, his dark brown eyes holding her hazel ones for several seconds. "But still it'll take some time, Ahn. It will."
"And I'll be here for you," the blonde declared futilely, as for once she didn't need to state things bluntly at all.
As if by unspoken agreement, the couple advanced through the living room in a speedy rush to find each other's arms.
One step, two, three closer to the other.
A kiss. Soft and delicate at first, but gaining a hearty, energetic strength thereafter.
And then, the damned telephone rang again.
And again.
And again.
"Whoever it is, I'm gonna kill 'em tomorrow, I promise," Xander muttered, breaking their embrace. Anya moaned in protest, but her lover was already gone.
A fourth ring of the damned telephone.
"I'm on my way, geez! Don't people know what the word 'patience' means anymore?" the dark-haired construction worker shouted in vain, finally picking up the phone.
"Hello. Listen, whoever you are, you called the wrong place, at the wrong time and to the wrong person. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go have sex with my fiancée," he barked into the handset, his voice seeming to be both annoyed and mocking.
The woman's voice from the other end of the line, though, it was definitely a mocking one. "Please, like spare me the details! I just had lunch about half an hour ago, and I don't intend to waste the valuable money I spent on that horrible jelly donut by throwing up."
Xander promptly gasped in shock and incredulity, but almost miraculously managed to cover his wonder with his next words. "Always thought you preferred the chocolate ones, Cordy."
A fleeting silence. Xander looked around, shaking his head with an uneasy â€" but at the same time honest â€" grin.
He spotted Anya's widened eyes and his Scooby Doo cereal bowl, given to him as a present by Dawn for the Christmas of 2001. As well as a picture hanging on the wall â€" between one of him and Anya in the Magic Box, and one of he, Willow and Buffy within the now-defunct Sunnydale High School library.
A photograph, rather older than most of the others, taken during the closing months of 1998 at a beach pier. Showing him as a teenager, wearing a horribly unfashionable Hawaiian shirt with an undecipherable collection of colors, as well as a baggy set of jeans.
By his side was a gorgeous brown-haired teenage girl, wearing a ravishing baby-blue miniskirt and a white-colored top; her long locks of brunette hair falling graciously around her beautiful face, and a bright smile covering her generous lips.
They had their arms around each other, and seemed very happy in the 'more- than-friends' sense.
It was a picture that, as a matter of fact, Anya would have never, ever accepted hanging on their apartment wall â€" if Buffy and Willow hadn't been present in it as well.
"Well, I do still prefer the chocolates, dorkhead. Didn't I say horrible jelly donut?" the light female voice retorted in amusement.
The owner of said light voice was many things to Xander's body, heart and soul; a former enemy, an old schoolmate, a might-have-been lover, and a conspirator in things that go bump in the night.
Anya scowled.
Xander grinned.
And, in the not-too-distant City of Angels from a geographic point of view but an endlessly distant one with regards to their friendship though, Cordelia grinned too.
If only in the land of dreams or fleeting thoughts, or possibly a moment of joy, a bond between the Slayerette and the seer still existed. But except for a day when an apocalypse or some other nasty tragedy was about to occur, they hadn't allowed themselves any opportunity to think about each other and their turbulent love-hate relationship.
There was one thing that really defined Xander Harris and Cordelia Chase, though.
And that was, both of them knew that there wasn't any other living person capable of bugging the other any more than what they were able to do.
After all â€" Spike was an undead being, to be sure.
***
TBC
Author: Jane McCartney
Disclaimer: Xander's mine, but if you wanna believe he's Joss's, fine! Whatever! I can always have my share of fun with Spike, Gunn, Wesley or Lindsey, you know? And...what? They aren't mine too? Damn!
Rating: PG
Feedback: As previously said, I'm rather fond of it. Yes, watch out, I'm crazy for it! [evil maniacal laugh echoes]
E-mail: janemccartney@bol.com.br
Distribution: Just tell me first and everybody will be happy in the end, okay?
Acknowledgments: To those who sent and send me reviews. Love ya, guys. And also, Theo, Theo and Theo. Without him, all my work would be just a bunch of nonsensical words in crappy English.
Author's note: This is a two-chapter thing. I just came up with the thought an hour ago, and here 'tis. Hope you'll enjoy!
Summary: A telephone call. An old friendship. What recollections will a spicy combination like this result in?
***
One ring of the damned telephone.
"I'll get it, I'll get it!" Anya bolted out from behind the bathroom door, wearing nothing more than a white cotton towel to cover her nakedness.
Xander grinned, looking at his fiancée as she hurriedly ran towards the phone. "You know, you never used to get this excited when we go out."
Anya stopped and glared at him, then stared down at the cotton towel thoughtfully. "But we never go out anymore," she stated accusingly.
Two rings of the damned telephone.
"Hey, we do so go out... we, we were at two parties last week!"
"Oh," the former demoness blurted out, sounding more than a little confused. "Should I wear this to your boss's next boring party, then?"
A prompt gasp. "Ahn, honey? If you want a poor and unemployed husband, yep is your answer. And... wait a sec, who says my boss's parties are boring? Free food, free beer... could someone honestly wish for more?" Xander replied casually, standing up from the couch and walking through the living room to the kitchen.
Three rings of the damned telephone.
"I could! Uh, lemme see," Anya mused, raising her hand and counting off the possibilities on each raised finger. "A million dollars, a marathon of non- stop sex, a king-size turkey sandwich, and please â€" let's try to be reasonable here, a law to forbid bunnies in America? And having Buffy back, of course..."
Anya rationalized her last point, "Then I'd be able to get some sleep these days, instead of waiting up for you every night to come back alive and with no missing body parts from the patrolling."
Four rings of the damned telephone.
The blonde girl could only see Xander's back, but she didn't need to see more to feel his sudden agitation and tenseness though.
"And, and she was a very nice person too; she was strong, and, well, she didn't have too much of a sense of humor after Glory showed up, but..." Anya added tentatively, though each and every word spoken directly from her heart. "I like Buffy!"
Her smile grew bigger, only to fade away in the very next second. "I mean, I liked Buffy. A whole lot."
Xander stayed silent, quietly and clumsily spooning some cereal into the childish bowl. But still, the dark-haired young man kept his back to his fiancée.
And as for the damned telephone, there was no more ringing at last.
"I thought you were gonna get it," Xander stated, opening the refrigerator and taking out a carton of milk. He loudly opened the lid, and the noise of milk splashing into the bowl of cereal seems to be the only existing sound for the two of them, at that moment.
"Get what?" Anya asked in the same low and awkward voice.
"The phone," he replied, rather harshly. The blonde woman shivered.
"Well, I didn't," the former demoness stated the obvious, clutching her towel more tightly to her body, suddenly feeling the need to do so.
A frown. "I don't understand. You loved her. Willow and Giles did too. Why can't you ever talk about her, then? Don't you guys have any good memories of Buffy?"
There wasn't any milk to be splashed this time, only a tense and thick silence to contemplate the awkwardness of the moment.
"You know, it'd be good for Dawn. To talk about her â€" Buffy? Every time she begins a conversation with her sister's name in it, you guys cut her off as if she was some kind of creepy alien or something," Anya pointed out, her hazel eyes following every move of the construction worker protectively.
He opened the refrigerator, and Xander then placed the carton of milk back in its place. The young man subsequently closed the door with an absent- mindedly severe thump, and the entire room rattled. The box of cereal remained standing though, barely, on the wooden table.
Xander slowly, almost fearfully returned Anya's gaze. Immediately, a feeling of comfort flooded deep into his soul.
Although, the blonde seemed to feel the opposite. Uncomfortable â€" with his presence, for his presence.
But the former Zeppo realized, once again, how much of a brave, gorgeous girl she was â€" for Anya didn't divert her eyes from his even once.
"It's hard," he admitted. "Buffy is... was, she *was* a very dear friend. Without her, a lotta things changed â€" we still have to find the right way to go on with our lives, Ahn. But it'll take some time till we get there."
Xander approached her, but Anya promptly moved away from his intended embrace. So the dark-haired man just stood there, lost in utter confusion.
"Why do you keep treating me as if I'm some sort of stupid child, who can't understand how much Buffy truly meant to you? All of you? What â€" you think I don't see how you're trying to mentally fake it she's still around, as if that's going to make things any easier? Or do you think I can't see how much Willow's gotten into dark magick, and you're choosing to overlook it completely?"
At Anya's sudden but not unforeseen explosion, Xander recoiled, almost as if in shame.
"I'll tell you something, it won't! Make things easier, that is. If you guys choose to keep ignoring Dawn, or pretend Willow isn't sinking deeper and deeper into a whole lot of trouble, fine by me! But don't try to convince me it's not wrong!"
Xander started to say, "Ahn..."
"Buffy wouldn't like it, ya know? She gave her life for you guys, and you're throwing her gift away," the former demoness paused with a frown, her tone suddenly getting impressively lighter and thoughtful in a split second. "She'd hate that. Buffy was a very temperamental person, after all."
"Anya, honey â€" listen, I know you aren't a child, and I'm sorry if I ever made you feel as if you were one," Xander said, grabbing the forgotten bowl of cereal and gently placing it onto the sink to probably eat it later, suddenly feeling like he wasn't hungry anymore.
"I know how much you were hurt by Buffy's death, and I do understand Xander, I do!" Anya rejoined, obviously ignoring the words said by him a second before. "Look, I know when a person is about to do something very stupid â€" I was a demon for more than a millennium, and some things you just know with time. And you, you're all only one step away from big ka-ka! Even a three-hundred-year old newbie could tell."
Xander scowled skeptically, as his significant other blinked innocently. "What? I did say more than a millennium, didn't I?"
"You're right," Xander uttered quietly, his dark brown eyes holding her hazel ones for several seconds. "But still it'll take some time, Ahn. It will."
"And I'll be here for you," the blonde declared futilely, as for once she didn't need to state things bluntly at all.
As if by unspoken agreement, the couple advanced through the living room in a speedy rush to find each other's arms.
One step, two, three closer to the other.
A kiss. Soft and delicate at first, but gaining a hearty, energetic strength thereafter.
And then, the damned telephone rang again.
And again.
And again.
"Whoever it is, I'm gonna kill 'em tomorrow, I promise," Xander muttered, breaking their embrace. Anya moaned in protest, but her lover was already gone.
A fourth ring of the damned telephone.
"I'm on my way, geez! Don't people know what the word 'patience' means anymore?" the dark-haired construction worker shouted in vain, finally picking up the phone.
"Hello. Listen, whoever you are, you called the wrong place, at the wrong time and to the wrong person. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go have sex with my fiancée," he barked into the handset, his voice seeming to be both annoyed and mocking.
The woman's voice from the other end of the line, though, it was definitely a mocking one. "Please, like spare me the details! I just had lunch about half an hour ago, and I don't intend to waste the valuable money I spent on that horrible jelly donut by throwing up."
Xander promptly gasped in shock and incredulity, but almost miraculously managed to cover his wonder with his next words. "Always thought you preferred the chocolate ones, Cordy."
A fleeting silence. Xander looked around, shaking his head with an uneasy â€" but at the same time honest â€" grin.
He spotted Anya's widened eyes and his Scooby Doo cereal bowl, given to him as a present by Dawn for the Christmas of 2001. As well as a picture hanging on the wall â€" between one of him and Anya in the Magic Box, and one of he, Willow and Buffy within the now-defunct Sunnydale High School library.
A photograph, rather older than most of the others, taken during the closing months of 1998 at a beach pier. Showing him as a teenager, wearing a horribly unfashionable Hawaiian shirt with an undecipherable collection of colors, as well as a baggy set of jeans.
By his side was a gorgeous brown-haired teenage girl, wearing a ravishing baby-blue miniskirt and a white-colored top; her long locks of brunette hair falling graciously around her beautiful face, and a bright smile covering her generous lips.
They had their arms around each other, and seemed very happy in the 'more- than-friends' sense.
It was a picture that, as a matter of fact, Anya would have never, ever accepted hanging on their apartment wall â€" if Buffy and Willow hadn't been present in it as well.
"Well, I do still prefer the chocolates, dorkhead. Didn't I say horrible jelly donut?" the light female voice retorted in amusement.
The owner of said light voice was many things to Xander's body, heart and soul; a former enemy, an old schoolmate, a might-have-been lover, and a conspirator in things that go bump in the night.
Anya scowled.
Xander grinned.
And, in the not-too-distant City of Angels from a geographic point of view but an endlessly distant one with regards to their friendship though, Cordelia grinned too.
If only in the land of dreams or fleeting thoughts, or possibly a moment of joy, a bond between the Slayerette and the seer still existed. But except for a day when an apocalypse or some other nasty tragedy was about to occur, they hadn't allowed themselves any opportunity to think about each other and their turbulent love-hate relationship.
There was one thing that really defined Xander Harris and Cordelia Chase, though.
And that was, both of them knew that there wasn't any other living person capable of bugging the other any more than what they were able to do.
After all â€" Spike was an undead being, to be sure.
***
TBC