"Got something that'll dull the ache a bit?"
Anya smiled and walked around to the other side of the counter. "Actually, yes. Um, Giles left a couple of supplies here, and I think this might help." She rummaged through a drawer. "Eases the hurt, makes the sun shine a little brighter, even makes boring people more interesting." Spike's brow furrowed and he looked at her with intense skepticism. "Ah. Here," she said, pulling out a large bottle of whiskey and placing it on the counter.
Spike smiled. "Hey, not quite what I was looking for, but it'll do."
Anya slid a shot glass across the counter to him. "So, what's going on with you? I know why I'm devastated and heartbroken, but what's your situation?" She felt a surprising tinge of genuine curiosity. Odd.
"A girl," Spike answered brusquely.
"Ah. So forthcoming with the details." She shrugged and brightened up a bit. "Let's talk about me, then!"
Spike poured himself a shot and threw his head back. "Right, right. I heard all about what happened between the two of you. Bloody awful."
"Isn't it? God, the hurt I'd inflict if I had the chance. And to hear him talk about it, it's all my fault." Spike nodded in agreement with her. "I mean, it wasn't even my idea to get married! He's the one who proposed and the one who backed out of it."
Spike took another shot. "This is a bit too familiar for comfort," he said grimly.
"Did you get left at the altar lately too and I just missed the memo?"
"You know what I mean," Spike said, rolling his eyes. "The girl in question, the one who's making me drink, she fucked with my head more than I care to admit."
"This girl...what went on with her?" She knew she was on a mission here, to get him to wish horrible things on Xander and get it over with, but there was something so comforting about shared misery.
"You know. Boy meets girl. Boy tries to kill girl a number of times then falls in love with her," he said, slurring his words a little. "Girl has wild, meaningless sex with him then ends it, mercilessly breaking his not-beating heart in the process. The usual."
Anya paused, not knowing quite how to respond to that, and poured them both more shots. She handed his to him. "Here. You need more whiskey."
"So then, this girl says, 'Real for you.'" Spike spat out angrily.
Anya told herself she needed to focus on the objective here. "Right. But getting back to Xander..."
"Xander," Spike said with utter disgust. "Let's not waste any more breath on that wanker."
"But he made a fool of me. And nobody seems to care enough to do anything!"
"I care," said Spike. "What he done to you? I've never stooped that low, and I'm an evil, soulless thing...according to some people." He frowned, thinking that Buffy would excuse anything somebody did as long as that somebody was human.
"But shouldn't he pay? Don't you wish he had to pay in some horrible way?"
"Absolutely." Spike got up and walked to the table, gesturing vaguely to the chip in his head. "Take him on myself, if it wasn't for my little handicap."
"Right. So...hypothetically, what do you wish you could do to him?"
"You name it, pet. You're the wronged party. Something...uh...gruesome, how bout?" He suggested, raising his shot glass to that.
Anya forced a smile, realizing he wasn't about to make a wish anytime soon. Spike put his head down on the table in frustration and sighed. "Do you ever wish the pain would go away, just for a few minutes?"
She nodded. "Yeah, I know exactly what you mean." Some things, even whiskey couldn't fix.
They sat in silence for a moment, till he spoke. "Look at us. The mighty Anyanka and William the Bloody, reduced to this over some fucking humans. Unbelievable."
"I should've remembered that there was a reason I didn't put up with guys for a thousand years," Anya said vehemently. "And then," she continued, her tone softening, "Xander came along and I forgot all about it...every value and principle I'd invested myself in, gone."
Spike laughed. "No offense, love, but you've got bloody awful taste in men. That troll creature, and then Xander...I'm not sure which is worse."
"Hey!" she objected. "To be fair, he wasn't a troll while we were going out."
"Right, right." He smiled. "You did that to him."
"And it's not like you have amazing taste in women, either. I mean, at least from what I've heard, Drusilla was batshit crazy, and Harmony was pretty damn awful in high school when she had a soul. You're one to talk."
He looked down at the floor. "The girl, who broke my heart..." he trailed off. "She's different. She's good."
"I know you're talking about Buffy, you know," Anya informed him bluntly.
Spike raised his eyebrows, feigning shock. "Well. What makes you think that?"
"Oh, cut the bullshit. You had a sex robot modeled after her, Spike."
"That's...technically true, I suppose."
"You have no idea how much I've had to filter myself so I didn't comment on all the sexual tension between the two of you. I mean, it was obvious there was something going on."
"Okay, fine, yeah. I'm talking about Buffy," he conceded.
"Look, Buffy's my friend," Anya said. She paused, looking up and thinking about it for a second. "Is she? I'm actually not sure. Whatever, she's something, and she saves the world a lot and I won't deny she has some okay qualities. But c'mon, she has such a superiority complex and this sanctimonious attitude about humanity and honestly, I think it's why she doesn't treat either of us better."
"Very insightful," agreed Spike. They sat and mused over that for a bit. "You know, you and me...we have a lot in common. We went against every fiber of who we truly are, for what, love? Heartbreak, more like."
"Love," Anya said with disdain. "Not sure why I let myself get roped back into that again."
"I'll drink to that," nodded Spike emphatically, raising his shot glass in a toast.