Author's Note: This is so like me lately. It's all about me and the college life. More seriously, I don't know why this chapter was so difficult for me to write. At least it's a long one. That makes it worth the wait, right?

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Chapter 20—Restless

For lunch, Xander took Anya to a nearby soup and sandwich type restaurant. He figured it was casual enough that nothing about it would feel like or look like a date. Except that he was paying for her meal, which did create a certain implication.

The timing was just right that Xander was able to snag a booth. As they sat down, Anya asked, "So at what point am I going to have to start earning my keep?"

His first thought was that she was speaking euphemistically. "Oh, no, Anya, I don't... There's no strings attached to you staying at my place."

"Okay." She did not seem to have any idea what he was thinking. "But eventually, I am going to have to start working for you guys."

In hindsight, Xander realized that he had made quite an assumptive leap, but considering the context of their situation, he did not think it was entirely unreasonable to think that she was referring to needing to earn her keep in a more intimate sense. "Right," he recovered. "But you don't need to worry any of that until you're all healed."

She regarded him with narrowed eyes. Xander took a sip from his drink to break eye contact, but she kept watching him. She was doing that more and more recently. It was the kind of thing that should seem encouraging at this point, but it was really just unnerving. Eventually, she looked around the restaurant and said, "Do you realize that people stare at you a lot?"

"Yeah, I've noticed," Xander said with a slight smile. He knew she was talking about the double takes he got from the eye patch, which he actually had stopped noticing over the years. He shrugged. "I've gotten used to it though."

She shook her head, thinking. "There has to be something less conspicuous you can do about your eye."

"There is." The truth was he found glass eyes creepy. He preferred to have his eye loss dealt with upfront rather than make it something to be discovered over time. Plus, with that eye socket's history, he was not entirely comfortable sticking things in it. "I like the patch though. Even if I do look sketchy."

She put one elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. "I remember when you had two eyes. I liked your eyes."

Xander thought about how to respond to that. He did not want to draw her attention to the fact that she just said she liked something about him for fear of spooking her like a gazelle in the Serengeti. He was saved from having to say anything by the arrival of their food. Anya forgot all about his eyes and went to work breaking up crackers in her soup.

This lull in the conversation allowed him to change the subject. There were two things he needed to talk to her about, and he decided to go with the one that seemed more pressing. He was worried about the fact that she had gotten nothing done over the last few hours. It was one thing to let things take time; it was another to let her waste that time. "Look, Anya, about the healing. Seriously, if you need Willow's help, she is all better now. I promise she won't try to kill you."

"She doesn't even like me," Anya said between slurps.

Xander did not think that was entirely true. "You guys were never super best friends, but I'm sure that she at least kind of liked you." They were getting off the point. "And that's not important anyway. If you need help, she'll do it for me, matter how she feels about you."

Anya shook her head. "I don't need help. That's not what this is."

That meant it was something. He debated whether to push for more information. He was sure that whatever her problem was, it would end up being his fault, and he was not sure he wanted to know how. "I just want you to get better."

"I will," she said, as though it was not something to worry about. Then she grew more pensive. "Or maybe I won't. I've been thinking about this whole vengeance thing."

She could be speaking broadly, about the whole vengeance thing, but Xander thought she probably had some more specific vengeance in mind. "What about it?"

"It's coming back to me. I think I pretty much know how it works now, and 'I wish his ex-fiancée was alive' doesn't really cut it."

He became much more focused on his sandwich. "What's your point?" He knew exactly where this was going, but he was not going to lead her there.

Anya stared at him, her own food forgotten. She could tell that he was avoiding the subject. "My point is, that wasn't the wish. And I figure, going out in that hallway with her, you know more than you're saying."

What was he supposed to tell her? That he was sure the only reason she hated him was because the demon was making her feel that way? It seemed inappropriate. Besides, it was like Buffy asked all those nights before. What happens when the vengeance stops working? "Yeah, I know a little more about the wish, but that's my burden to bear. All that matters for you is that your being alive is part of it. The details don't change that." He leaned in closer as he spoke and lowered his voice because this was approaching dangerous territory.

She followed suit with the lowered volume. "It changes things if the wish was for you to lose me all over again. Because that's kind of the only thing that makes sense anyway. This healing is not going to do anything if my death is preordained."

Xander considered that. It was a possibility he had considered many times over the last few days. He thought back to everything Calreg had said to him, specifically what she said with regard to his ability to save Anya. "But the demon didn't know you were dead. That's the whole problem here. So right now, yeah, you're living at her whim, and that makes your death a little imminent. But if you heal, maybe we can change all that."

He could tell that she did not entirely believe him. And, really, why should she? She had probably noticed the way he maneuvered around the actual question and told her all the same things he always told her. But she let it go all the same. They sat eating in silence for the next few minutes until Xander remembered that there was something else he was supposed to talk to her about. "I also wanted to let you know that Giles is flying in tonight, if you want to see him." She did not respond, so he continued, "But if you don't, that's okay too."

Anya thought about this. Finally, she swallowed her soup and said, "Who's Giles?"

Xander was not sure why he had assumed she would remember him. "Oh, right. He's..." It probably did not really matter what he said. She would either remember Giles or she wouldn't. "He's just another old friend."

"Why wouldn't I want to see him?"

"No, no reason." He could see how what he said might have implied that there was some big bad thing in the past, but he could not think of anything. "I just meant there was no pressure because you've been feeling a little avoidy today. But I don't think Giles ever tried to kill you or anything like that." He really did not want her to think that he was discouraging this. "You should see him."

"Okay." Anya nodded. "Tomorrow."

Xander felt something resembling relief, even though whether or not she saw Giles was not that important to him. "Tomorrow," he repeated. That was probably better. Although Giles's flight was set to arrive just after six p.m. Pacific, it would be the middle of the night on London time. This would give him time to rest.

With that settled, Xander did not have anything else to talk to her about. He thought about trying to make small talk, but the awkwardness kept him from speaking. He no longer had any idea where he stood with her, and it was not something he was interested in exploring at the moment. They finished their lunch without saying much else at all, and he took her back to the park so that she could continue doing exercises that were probably ineffective.

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The next time Anya sprawled out on the grass, Xander came over to chastise her. She explain that this time was from exhaustion and that it was perfectly normal and that she was doing what he wanted, so he could just leave her alone. He went back to the park bench skeptical, and Anya rested up for another bout of healing.

By sundown, Anya felt that all in all it had been a successful day. And now she had to go back to Xander's apartment and stay in a place with a man who felt things for her that she did not feel back. Still, that was preferable to staying with people who once came very close to making her dead. Something occurred to her in the car, and she asked Xander about it. "Those guys who actually killed me, the ones in the robes, you're not friends with any of them, are you?"

"No," Xander answered with a sigh, like he considered this question to be a personal affront. "Those guys are evil. Literally the minions of the first evil, and we haven't really seen them around since the Hellmouth closed." He paused, and then he clarified, "Not that I would be friendly with them if they were around. Willow just had a problem with magic, and things... converged. She didn't have anything against you personally. And Buffy—"

"Buffy did." There was no question about that. Anya thought about how Xander was there, in the way, in between them. He claimed that he had a problem with what Buffy was there to do, but Anya was the one knocking him out of the way. "Are you sure you and Buffy were never involved?"

"I think I would remember," Xander said with a smile. "Would it, um, would it bother you if we were?"

It really would, but Anya was not going to say that. It was just that it was always Buffy for him. Cordelia had told her that once, how she never even worried about mousy Willow because Xander was so clearly into his other best friend. Anya would hate to think that she was a placeholder. "It would if that's why she tried to kill me."

"Ah." He nodded. "It's not."

They were pulling up to the apartment parking, and Anya decided to let the conversation go. It had gotten away from her intended subject by that point anyway. She followed Xander up the stairs, mentally counting the hours until bedtime. Once they were in his living room, Anya asked him what they normally did in the evenings.

Xander looked at her in a different sort of way than he usually looked at her. He was clearly getting back some memories of his own, but he shook those away. "Um, I don't know. Watch TV, bowl. You liked to bowl."

"I liked to bowl," Anya repeated, trying it on. It had a certain ring to it. "Did I—Did I have a song about that?" She could almost hear a melody, and she tried to hum it. "Good with... math?"

Xander shrugged. "Doesn't sound familiar. But maybe," he added brightly.

Anya spent a few more seconds trying to remember the song, what it was and why she sang it, but nothing more was forthcoming, and she gave up. "Okay, let's watch TV." It seemed as good a way as any to avoid having to talk to him for the next few hours.

They ordered in Chinese food and sat on opposite sides of the couch eating and watching re-runs of shows Anya had never heard of before. When the right hour finally rolled around, Anya gave an exaggerated yawn and reached for the air mattress, which had been pushed to the floor. "I think it's about time for me to go to sleep."

Xander jumped up to help her with the mattress. "Right, I've been thinking about that. I think you should take the bed."

Anya wanted to make sure she was hearing him right. "And you'll sleep out here?"

"Yeah." he nodded. "I just think I'd be more comfortable on the air mattress."

Having slept on that thing for a few nights now, Anya really doubted that would be the case. "Xander, this is your apartment. I can't ask you—"

He cut her off. "You're not asking me. We have this whole history that makes it somewhat of an imperative for me to give you the better sleeping arrangements. And even if you don't remember our history, I do. So just let me do this."

"This is just—" She was going to tell him that it was too much for her and he needed to back off. But she knew that this was him backing off. He had not said anything that morning that she did not push him to say. This might even be the first time he brought up the relationshipy stuff without her bringing it up first. And hell, if this was what he wanted, who was she to argue? "Okay then."

She picked up her bag of clothes and headed for the bedroom to shut Xander out. She tried to close the door, but he stopped it with his foot. "I do need to get a few things though."

Anya reluctantly opened the door for him to enter. "I'm really, really tired," she lied.

He slid past her into the room. "Don't worry," he said sounding a little perturbed by her attitude. "I'll be quick as a—Quick." He pulled some clothes out of a drawer and took a pillow from the bed. Then he went to the top of the closet for a blanket. "If you want to change the sheets, there's a spare set up here."

Anya thanked him, but then he didn't leave, and Anya got restless. There was something about this whole situation, between him and the bed and the being in his apartment at night, that made her feel squirmy and uncomfortable. "So you can go now."

Xander's lips curled up a little at the sides. He was finding her amusing, and that made Anya even more squirmy, like there were tiny bugs crawling under her skin, only not as unpleasant as all that. Xander hid his smile and said, "Yeah, I can go." With that, he finally left her alone.

He closed the door, but she crossed the room to lock it behind him. She surveyed the room now, just as she had done that morning. This was not the room he had when they were together; this wasn't even the right town. This bed probably was not anything that should trigger any memories. But just in case, she avoided it as she undressed for bed.

When she had on her pajamas, Anya tentatively pulled the comforter back. She could change these sheets if she wanted, but that seemed like a lot of unnecessary work. She flipped over the one remaining pillow and decided that was good enough. Still she could not get herself to climb into the bed.

She knew what she was afraid of. It was the same thing she was afraid of every time she went to bed, the memories that might come back to her in her sleep. She did not yet have any actual memories of anything they might have done in beds, but it should not be any scarier than cannibalism, right? She put one knee up on the bed and forced herself to shift her weight onto it. She brought her other leg up and finally laid down. It was just a bed, she told herself as she closed her eyes.

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When Xander woke in the morning, the mattress had deflated a little and his back was sore. He sat up and stretched. There was not much he could do until Anya came out of his room. He listened for any sign of activity coming from there, and there was definite rustling. It probably would not be much longer.

He lay back and waited. Over the last day or so, he had followed Buffy's advice and taken the time to think about what he still felt for Anya. He probably should have done that before answering whether he would marry her, but it didn't matter because the answer was the same. She was not quite the same Anya he had fallen in love with all those years before, but there was enough of her there for him to know that he never wanted to let her go again. But it was not up to him anymore.

After a while, Anya came out, showered and dressed. She walked over to him. "Did you know that you snore?"

It had been mentioned to him on occasion, at least once by her. He got up from the mattress. "You could hear that all the way in the bedroom?"

"No, I heard it when I came out to take a shower." She ran her hand through her hair. "You still use the same shampoo."

He was not sure if that was meant as a criticism from someone who had always taken hair care so seriously or if it was just a fact. All that mattered to him was that she remembered what kind of shampoo he used to use. "Yes, I do."

Anya nodded. "It smells nice. Clean." She shifted awkwardly. "So when are we going to meet..." She did not bother to try to remember the name. "...your friend?"

"Oh, yeah. Just wait here while I get dressed, and then I'll call him." Xander headed for his room, but halfway there, he turned around and walked backwards. "Feel free to help yourself to anything you want for breakfast."

When he came out of his room a few minutes later, Anya was eating cereal and reading something. He glanced down at it as he passed the table and saw that she was reading one of Erica's old finance magazines. It must have been lying around the living room somewhere. Anya was engrossed in the article, so he asked, "Does that trigger anything for you?"

She looked up. "No, but I am learning how to thrive in a barren market." She tapped the article. "I like money."

"Yeah." Xander was actually surprised that had not come up yet. "Much more than bowling."

She laughed and went back to reading her magazine. Once he had his cereal, Xander sat with her at the table, and it was just like old times. A little too much like old times. He felt a wave of disappointment when the knocking on the door interrupted their easy silence, because he knew they might never get back to this.

Anya hung back while Xander went to answer the door, but the second she saw Giles, she ran up to hug him. This was the strongest reaction she'd had to anyone yet. "I thought you were dead!"

Giles looked very uncomfortable with the whole hugging situation, but he let it persist for a few seconds before gently prying her off him. "I'm not sure why—"

Anya did not let him finish. "I remembered you dying. Or that you were dying. In the magic shop, our magic shop. Willow killed you; it was the only way to stop her." She shook her head, thrilled to see the man standing in front of her.

Giles nodded. "Yes, well, I managed to survive that ordeal as you can see."

Since the reunion was going so well, Xander went to the table to clear off the breakfast dishes. Anya pulled Giles into the living room. "Were we—were we in love?"

Giles seemed very confused by the question. "What, you and I?"

"Yeah," Anya said eagerly. "I remember something. We were partners in the shop; we owned it together."

While she struggled with the rest of that memory, Giles took the time to explain. "Right. You bought into it as a partner. But, Anya, I assure you that's all there was to it. You and Xander were—"

"No." Armed with her recollection, she interrupted him again. "No, there was more. You kissed me."

In his surprise, Xander dropped the bowl he was holding into the sink. Luckily, it did not break. Up to that last thing, it was easy to see how Anya could be confused and think there was something more than there was, but this was something else. He turned around to face the two of them in the living room. "You kissed her?"

"No," Giles said quickly.

"Yes!" Anya disagreed. She looked to Xander. "I'm sorry if this is hard for you to hear, but I remember." She turned back to Giles. "We were in the Magic Box. You said you were sorry. You—I was afraid you were going to leave me. And you kissed me. And—and we were... together."

Xander did not like that pause before the "together." It was fraught with possibilities. It only took Xander a second to place Giles's departure back to England into the timeline of his own life. It was well before the wedding. And he was back for only a few hours before the Magic Box was destroyed. Xander waited for Giles's response with raised eyebrows.

Giles cleared his throat awkwardly. "There was a small incident where Willow accidentally erased all of our memories. It was just before I left for England and certain assumptions were made at the time. Perhaps that's what you're recalling now."

Xander remembered that spell now. There had been some assumptions made about the relationships between parties. That slightly softened the tacit admission that Giles kissed Anya. "So you remember thinking you were in love with him for, like, two hours, but you can't—" It was not her fault, and he had to remember that. So he shook that off and addressed Giles. "You're the one who taught Willow all this healing stuff. It might be better if you take Willow to the park today."

Anya moved a couple steps toward Xander. "You don't want to go with me?" She seemed unsure how to take that.

He was not mad at her, either of them. Not really. He was just frustrated, and it came out wrong. "I mean that Giles is better because he knows about the magic, like Willow, but he never tried to kill you, unlike Willow. This has nothing to do with..." He paused to gather his thoughts. "It's not about me; it's about what's best for you. I think you should go with Giles."

Anya accepted this, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. Xander told himself not to read anything into that.

Giles pulled Xander aside. "Listen, that whole thing was—"

Xander did not need to hear whatever Giles was going to say. He did not want to hear anything that was supposed to make things okay. "It doesn't matter. You didn't do anything wrong, and it's not actually a big deal. That's probably why Anya never felt the need to tell me about it. What does matter is this healing thing. So if you want to make up for kissing my fiancée—What was that, six years ago?—then go with her to the park and make her better."

Giles gave Xander a searching look for a few moments, and then he nodded resolutely. "Okay. If you're sure." He went back over to where Anya was standing. "We can go whenever you're ready."

"I'm ready." On her way to the door, Anya gave Xander another sad glance. "Are you sure you don't want to come?"

That almost broke through Xander's defenses. He almost asked if she wanted him there, but instead he just nodded. "You don't need me for this. And I need to get some work done." In his mind, he already had a full day planned of training Slayers and hitting things really hard.

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Xander made sure that he got home before Anya. He knew that he had left things a little awkward between the two of them, and he did not want her to feel anything less than welcome when she returned to the apartment.

She got there a couple minutes after the sun completely set and left the sky black. Giles spent a few minutes at the apartment, telling Xander that, from his perspective, the day had gone well. And then he left, and it was just Xander and Anya again. Nothing had really changed since the night before, but it felt different now. He was no longer the only one she had. Objectively, he knew that was a good thing, but it just felt like another reason for her to pull away from him.

They spent the evening watching television for another night in a row. Xander saw this for what it was, and easy way to do occupy the time without having to interact with each other. When the 11 o'clock news started, Anya declared that she was going to bed.

Xander remembered a second too late that her going to bed meant he would be shut out of his bedroom. He jumped up from the couch and caught the door before she could close it. "I need to get some things."

Anya sat cross legged on the bed and watched him get his clothes out. "I've been thinking about this morning," she said.

Xander looked up from the drawer. "Don't worry about that."

"No, you were right," she insisted. "It's strange that I remember being in love with Giles, which wasn't real, but I don't remember what I felt for you. Or at least not enough of what I felt for you."

He really did not need her to rehash all this for him. "I'm sure it'll come back to you in time." With everything he needed in hand, he headed out of the room.

She got up from the bed and followed him back to the living room. "Maybe, but I think there's something we could do to help it along. I think we should go on a date."

Xander felt sure that he must have misinterpreted something there. "You want to go on a date? With me?"

"Yes, I think there is a good chance it might trigger something, for better or worse." She looked concerned that he might read too much into this. "I mean, nothing fancy. We could just re-create our first date or something. For memory's sake."

Anya asking him on a date when she did not really like him gave Xander a sense of nostalgia. In a way it was as though, without even intending to, she had already begun re-creating their first date. Of course, that was where the recreation had to end. "Our first date was the prom."

She shrugged. "Second date then."

Xander had to think for a moment to even remember what counted as their second date. "That was a Halloween party."

"Fine, then our third date." She was getting a little annoyed. "It doesn't really matter. You know what I mean. Just a typical one."

He was glad she let him off the hook because he did not want to have to admit that their third date might have been Thanksgiving dinner. They did not really go out much in the beginning stages of the relationship. "Yeah, I know what you mean. And I can do that."

"Okay." Anya's tone had a nervous but bright edge to it. "So I was thinking we could do this tomorrow. It'll be Friday, date night."

Xander nodded. "It's a date."

"Okay," she said again. "Well, good night." With that she headed back into the bedroom, shutting the door tightly behind her.

Xander sighed as he pulled out his mattress. Going on a date with Anya for her memory's sake. Yeah, there was no chance that could go poorly, he thought sarcastically.

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