Chapter Eight

What is left

A/N Alright, so ep21 is here, yayyyy! Enthusiasm people. Promise Willow and Tara will actually be in this chapter, again it's all in the plan *pats head.* But I thought I would give Xander and Anya some limelight for once. I just feel they were kind of ignored a bit in terms of their love for each other so. Just enjoy, 1 person reading this. Please R & R.

Sunnydale, the world without shrimp 2002

Xander paused hesitantly before clutching his palm around the door knob. The Magic Box still had all its lights on, and he could see through the pale shutters that blocked out who was inside. He couldn't see her yet. He closed his eyes tightly before taking an immense breath as he pushed open the heavy ivory door. She stood alone behind the counter, slowly counting out money, the look on her face where she could throw half a dozen knives and hit a bull's eye each time. And yours for that matter.

He stepped inside the warming shop, a change from the sharp evening air that crisped his beady eyes as he walked. She barely even looked up before saying, "I'm sorry we're closed." not even registering when Xander began walking towards the counter. Xander peered around the shop as he approached Anya slowly, his casual demeaner a front for the nerves running through him.

"Hi." He said softly as he walked towards the counter, they needed her for 'researchy type things,' Willow's words, not his. She'd offered to go for him after Buffy left with Dawn, but it had to be him. And he had to go alone. They needed her knowledge and manpower for the group, but it was more than that for him. He needed her, worse he wanted her back.

She barely even registered he'd said anything. Concentrating on her counting, but then he was the only thing that could ever distract her from money. "Hey." She replied, her voice barely registering as noise. She looked up at him, just about to curse him and tell him to leave her alone, but nothing came out. Her throat clamping shut as her oesophagus tied itself in knots. It hurt that much. No one seemed to get that what he did was wrong, just blamed her when she couldn't take it anymore. And now he was here with probably just something else to blame her for.

"Can we talk?" He sounded softer than usual, his tone one that she hadn't heard for months. The one he used when he was sweet on her. The last time she'd heard it was a stormy night when he'd held her close and told her all the things he loved about her so he wouldn't think about the slashes against the window and the roaring drumbeat of thunder far away. Anya couldn't help but long for him to come back, the Xander she'd known that night, and all the other nights they were together, every night, until now. The soul she saw in him had withered since the wedding, like it was being filed down by a grindstone.

"I can't." She replied after several moments of fleeting loss. She knew not why he was here, and she had even less interest in figuring that out. He wasn't hers anymore and that was finite.

"Look, Anya we need you." The 'we' bit into her soul, he was speaking for the gang, not for her, not for himself. It wasn't that he had come of his own volition, he was there on behalf. "If we don't find Warren, something terrible is going to happen. He shot Buffy, and Tara broke her arm. We're kinda falling to pieces here." He rambled on, a slight anger at her for not immediately knowing the whole situation. He would get like that lately, angry for no reason, how he used to be before her. Before love sweetened his heart, the feeling that he was the missing piece abandoned as he full hearteningly embraced his love for her. But that was over now, he'd broken it.

"I don't see why any of that concerns me." Anya replied bitterly, the sour taste on her tongue stinging pungently. He could taste it too, it leaked from him like the tears should've. It was the unresolved tension between them that burned, an acid melting the air, leaving them both breathless and out of thought.

"Anya..." He started, the confusion of words cutting him off, placing the syllables in the perfect order before saying them. "I need you." He finally stumbled out. Trying to take another step towards her, but teetering on his heels.

"Xander stop." She took a shaky breath, "you can't just come in here and say you want me back, again." Another shaky breath as a tear finally fell. "You broke us, it was you who did that." She could see him start to argue, his lip quake before he tried to speak, she cut him off. "No, you don't get to argue about what I did, you broke me Xander, you left me first, told me you couldn't do it." She felt like slamming everything in her hands against the counter, but all movements were lost to her now. "What I did was nothing, we were over, I was clinging to what I'd lost and it's all your fault."

Anya stopped, she could no longer look at his sad face. He had her weak, she was a vengeance demon, she couldn't be crying over a simple man. They both took a minute, Xander knew what was right, he knew what was decent and he ignored it. He crossed the short distance between them and kissed her quickly, grabbing her face into a melted state of embrace. She didn't want this now, his repentance, but at the same time, her heart longed for him and she couldn't refuse. It was a soppy wet kiss of grief, fuelled by a sadness overwhelming them.

"Anya we need you..." He paused as his mouth disconnected from hers, but now he spoke in a whisper, keeping them close. "Need you to help us find Warren." He mumbled, the sadness still fuelling him as he let her go. His arms slowly retreating from her as she barely looked at him.

After a while, she spoke, still a whisper, but loud enough for him to hear. "I can feel it, he wants vengeance, he wants to kill Buffy."

Xander stopped, a quick confusion set inside him, "can feel it?" He said, tilting his head slightly, his mouth ajar.

"Yes, but that's not..." She began to say, he felt something then, she had betrayed him. She was back, she was a demon again. How could she? Doesn't she want a life? A life with him.

"Oh, I see. What, is that something left over from your vengeance demon days?" He said abruptly not allowing her to finish, cutting off her important message. She tried to put her arm out to stop him freaking, an angry look in his deep brown eyes. They used to be soft and creamy but now they lay bare as crystal.

"Xander listen." It took a few seconds for him to process what she was saying, that she was pushing him aside, urging him to stop and listen for once. "It's not Warren I'm worried about." His eyebrow shifted, she breathed shakily again before continuing. "It's Willow, there's something. So small I wouldn't normally pay attention to it, but if you say all those things happened, with Buffy and..." She paused again, making him look at her properly. "And Tara. She wants it Xander, she wants him to pay. She doesn't know it yet, but she will. Just be careful."

"Oh." Xander muffled out, the syllable stroking against his tongue as it lazed about the air.

"And she doesn't need me. She's powerful Xander." Anya looked him dead in the eyes, this was important. Whatever was going to happen, it was big.

"But the magic, she gave it up." He argued softly, only half believing Willow was over it. It had been hard for her. But he thought Tara being back would help. Or maybe it was temptation.

"I'll help." Anya said, interrupting his inner voice from talking too much. "But I'm helping Willow. You and I can't be on the same side Xander. You hurt me too much."

Now it was dark, the witches had settled back into the couch as they stole a moment for themselves. Perhaps purposefully they'd been left alone in the house, given time to just be, before something awful happened and they would have to be strong and fight. Willow glanced over to the little ends of fingers that were spurting from the end of Tara's plain white cast, noticing how empty it looked.

"What do you wanna do sweetie? We have some time before the others get back." Tara remarked out of the blue, her mind slightly flicking through several past images she had of Willow naked. All stored away for times like this when she felt like teasing. She felt relaxed and happy, the contended feeling of just being wrapped in Willow-hands made her smile at being back in the redhead's arms. She had her head perched on Willow's shoulder, their knees touching as their hands wove themselves together.

"Huh?" Willow mumbled as she looked up at Tara's eyes, her mind adrift in other realms, as she felt the warmth through her extend to the tippy ends of her toes. "Sorry I was just daydreaming, all noisy up here in Willow-head." Tara laughed as Willow pointed obviously towards to her head, pressing her index finger into her temple, and nodding emphatically.

How did she get to be this cute, did it just happen one day when I wasn't paying attention, Tara thought as she pressed a kiss to Willow's lips eliciting a surprised and giddy giggle out of her. "I was just asking my girlfriend what she would like to do with our time now that we're alone and don't have to worry for a couple hours."

Oh she's using her 'I'm all in charge' voice. Yay. All dominant and sexy. Then Willow noticed Tara glance squarely at her watch, then jerked her eyebrows in a 'we have time' kind of way. Willow pursed her lips, clearly the telepathy was working today because her brain was suddenly filling with several images of herself in not-so appropriate positions, making her smirk at the completely unaware and absorbed-in-her-own-mind Tara.

"Well baby see I'm not sure, there are many possible activities I can think of to pass the time but it's up to you." Willow replied playing along, thinking up some images of her own, then she saw Tara blush. Clearly the right message had been sent, the blonde half-smiled, her classic with scarlet blush to accentuate, it was Tara at Willow's absolute favourite.

If it was up to me, I would kiss you but whatever totally your call, Willow thought before Tara made a lunge at her. The blush changed, forming a golden glow that made Tara, - despite the broken arm - push Willow gently over so she was laying down, the back of her head against the arm of the couch as their lips met in a searing kiss. Their minds still connected.

Warren stood alone, his mind focussed on the contents of his pocket. A little box protruding wiry wings. An explosion contained, waiting to happen moments from now. He stood facing the wall, his feet hip width apart as he breathed out a single final breath before flinging the box high into the air.

"What was that?" Andrew said, his voice trembled a little as he glanced towards the back wall of their cell. Jonathon looked up too, his breath hitched as his fabled hand pointed towards the beige stone. He couldn't say anything, just gasped as one by one the bricks began to fall away, then he heard the bang. Andrew heard it too, making his leap off his bunk and back against the bars. By now there were so many people running around trying to stop it, but Warren was too powerful, he just ignored the men with guns and engaged his jetpack.

By now Jonathon was calling out loudly, his hands bracing against the bars as he tried to escape whatever disaster this was, whilst Andrew just watched as the wall fell away revealing a cracked hole of smudged bricks and mortar, looking out on the night air.

He smirked as he landed, crowds of armed policemen rallied around the cell, just watching in awe as his feet tapped down onto the wreckage, his smile widening. Andrew held back his smile, relieved that he hadn't been forgotten, he was confused as to whether Jonathon was coming or not.

"Hello little ones." Warren said, grinning like the joker. He looked so evil. His eyes screaming vengeance, Anya had been right about one thing. Warren was coming, coming for Buffy. "Come with me."