"Hello."

"Oh--it's you."

"Hell of a way to greet me."

"If you wanted a brass band, you should have gone elsewhere. I'm kind of busy right now."

"I noticed - -I'd've thought you would have already had this done. I was actually coming by to see if you were gone."

"Well. I'm not. Why not come by in an hour or so? Give yourself the thrill of making sure I clear out of Sunnydale."

"Naah, this'll do. I can tell you're packing."

"Did you come by just to give me attitude, or was there a point to this intrusion?"

"There's a point alright."

"And it is? I was trying to get out of here without any confrontations, and I'd like this very much to be the only one."

"She's not coming. I think she thinks you're already gone. And that's why I'm here."

"Nothing's wrong, is there?"

"I would have told you that right away. Just letting you know that the way you're leaving--no goodbyes--you're hurting her."

"What does it take to make you happy?"

"Huh?"

"I stay, and I make her miserable because of the continual reminders that we can never be together. I leave, and I'm making her miserable because I'm leaving, and I try to soften the blow by avoiding a long goodbye and I hurt her because that's what she wanted. So no matter how you look at it, I would have made her miserable. So is that the only reason you came? To rub it in one more time?"

"Rubbing it in? I came to tell you that with all you've been through you could have handled this better--"

"Oh really? How?"

"Well--"

"Because I'm telling you right now that no matter how I'd handled it, someone --probably you--would have come along and told me I could have done some other way and avoided the pain. So, like I was saying, if all you came here to do was give me a hard time--win our little war that began all the way back when she chose me over you--well, then, I salute you, sir. You've won. Now take your victory and get the hell out of here."

"I really hadn't thought--"

"Get out!"

"Look. I really hadn't meant to rub it in. I just wanted to give you the chance to make it right before you left."

"How much do you believe that?"

"'splain, please--"

"Wasn't there some part of you that wanted to see me squirm? And an even larger part that wanted to make sure I finally left the field clear for you, and truly left, period?"

"The field...clear?"

"Knock it off. You're still in love with her, aren't you?"

"A little. Aren't you?"

"I'm not travelling that route again. And I notice you didn't answer my main question."

"I was trying to stall."

"Thought as much. Answer or leave."

"Then...yes, I guess I did want to see you squirm. But I swear to God, my main reason was letting you know of her feelings."

"If it were anyone but you, I'd believe you. Look, I know you. On some level you respect me, but every other floor of the building is filled with a kind of dislike. Of contempt."

"Mr. Egotism speaks. Do you think my entire life is consumed with the thought of you?"

"Well, not literally all--whatever's left over from thinking about sex, food, sex, pleasure, sex, occasional good deeds, sex, morbid thoughts, and-- have I mentioned sex?"

"Ha. Ha. Ha."

"Still, point taken. And you're evading again."

"Yeah, but I've never made a pretense of it--not thinking highly of you, I mean. But I thought enough of you to help try to save you back in December when you wanted to kill yourself."

"True enough--thanks for the effort, by the way--and low enough to suggest to me yesterday that I made a conscious choice to drain her dry to save 'my own ass,' as you put it. All I'm saying is that when you think of me your objectivity runs screaming from the room."

"I like to think that when the chips are down I can put my feelings aside."

"Sometimes yes--if not for you, I don't know if I would have gone to her rescue two years ago. You prodded me into it, and then you saved her life. You have no idea how grateful I've always been for that--"

"Would have been nice to hear."

"And sometimes no. Like last May--when I wasn't myself--"

"What--what are you talking about?"

"I figured it out later. You had to have known about the ritual of soul restoration--but she never told me you'd mentioned it, not at all. So you chose to lie to her, deliberately. You chose to take away from her the information she deserved to have."

"If she'd known--she would have been distracted. She might not have had the courage to kill the demon if she'd thought there was a chance that YOU might come back."

"But she didn't kill the demon. She killed me. Well, not exactly killed--"

"What?"

"They never told you? The ritual worked, but the gateway was already open. I had to be sent into hell--with my soul--in order to save the world."

"I'd hoped she'd had to get rid of the demon. Damn. Damn, damn, damn!"

"If you'd told--maybe she would have had the chance to save me, to stop me from pulling that damn sword that made my trip to hell inevitable. I don't know. And neither do you."

"Does--does she know?"

"Are you breathing?"

"You never told, then."

"What would be the point. Revenge? I got as much of that as I dared allow myself when I knocked you silly back in March. And why would I want to cause her any more pain by revealing your choice?"

"You were protecting her, then."

"Weren't you? Or at least, isn't that what you told yourself later? Had it been anyone else who'd made that call--I'd have believed them implicitly. You had too much baggage to make it a clean, objective call. And...you know what else?"

"What?"

"It was the right decision."

"Excuse me while I say, what?"

"Had I had the same choice to make, I would have done the same thing you did."

"Then what the hell has this all been about? Are you getting your jollies by making me jump through emotional hoops?"

"I just wanted you to know that you were probably the last person on the planet who should have had that choice to make. The least objective."

"But I was the only one there."

"That's why I told you it was the right choice."

"Well--thanks for that, anyway."

"If nothing else?"

"There are other things. Thanks for being there for her--for protecting her when you did. For guiding me through the tunnels two years ago. For helping find out the truth about Faith. For saving me and the others from the invisible girl and her gas. For so damn many other things. "

"You're welcome."

"Well?"

"Thank you for saving her life. Twice."

"You're welcome."

"Look. It's getting late--or early. I want to be packed and away from here by morning. There's a place I can hide a few hours away, but I need to leave soon to get there."

"Such a pity."

"I knew you'd be devastated."

"Your shoes are going to be awfully big ones to fill."

"11? No, not really."

"Ha. Ha."

"That's twice you've said that tonight. I must be funnier than I ever thought. Don't worry about filling my shoes. You're not protector boy. It's gallant to want to be the white knight--and to take the role when it's necessary--but you're so much better off when the only shoes you fill are your own."

"I'll do my best."

"I'm sure."

"Well, then, toodle-oo, and don't let the doorknob hit you in the ass on the way out of town."

"I'll miss you too."

"No you won't."

"No I won't. Goodbye, Xander."

"See you, deadb--goodbye, Angel."