Title: Dancing Around Love (7/13)
Author: Cyclone
Feedback: Please be gentle.
Distribution: Gimme credit and a link. Plus, archived at http://fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=62966
Rating: I'm gonna go say R for semi-explicit sex.
Spoilers: Up to As You Were and Forgiving.
Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to the almighty Joss. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Summary: What if Buffy wasn't the only one with an illicit affair?
Author's Note: Okay, so we've got major T/Xness, along with some W/X, W/T, and the A/X demanded by the time setting. I'm not fond of A/X. You have been warned. Also, due to popular demand, I'm throwing in some B/X to go along with all that. ^_^'
* * *
Xander was staring at something in his hand when Tara entered his hospital room. It had been a week since the demon attack, and he was recovering from his injuries remarkably well.
"Hey," she smiled and waved.
He didn't look up, didn't acknowledge her presence. She frowned and sat down on the chair next to his bed. Brushing a lock of hair out of his face, she asked, "Xander, what's wrong?"
He still didn't look up, but this time, he responded. "It was supposed to be today," he said, his voice filled with grief, fatigue, and something else. It took her a moment to recognize the third thing as despair.
"What was?" she probed gently.
He simply held up the item in his hand, and she felt something catch in her throat. It was an engagement ring, the one he'd given to Anya.
And today was supposed to have been their wedding day.
"Oh, Xander," she said quietly, "I'm so sorry."
He looked up and smiled bravely at her, "Don't be. It's not your fault."
Tara stared at him incredulously and blurted out, "Yes, it is." He looked at her blankly, and she paused for a moment before explaining, "I-if I hadn't gotten drunk, i-if I hadn't asked you to... to make love to me... she w-wouldn't have left you."
Blinking for a moment, he said, "It's not _all_ your fault, I mean. I could've refused. Heck, I could've stayed home that night."
She shook her head. "N-no, you couldn't."
"Oh?" he cocked an eyebrow. "Quite confident in your seduction skills, I see."
"That's not what I meant!" she said, blushing furiously. But he was cracking jokes again, so that was good; it meant he was feeling better... or at least a little less depressed.
"So what _did_ you mean?"
"I-I meant that you... I-I needed... someone, and you... you could never turn your back on anyone who needed you." She smiled and traced a finger along his jawline, saying hesitantly, "Th-that's part of why I... wh-why I... l-love you, Xander." She stumbled a little over the admission, clearly embarrassed and very nervous. He froze, and her hopeful smile faded. "I-is something wrong, Xander?" she asked with a trace of fear in her voice as she began to pull her hand back.
He snapped out of his apparent daze and shook his head clear, then reached up and caught her hand before she could draw it away. "No! God, no. It's just..." he sighed. "Things are just... so complicated... right now."
"Oh," she nodded slowly and took his hand into her own, offering what little comfort she could.
* * *
"I've lost them both."
"What?" Dawn looked up at Willow, confused.
"I've lost them," Willow repeated lifelessly. "Xander and Tara. I've lost them both. To each other."
"What makes you so sure?" Dawn probed carefully.
"He called for her," the redhead said numbly. She noticed that the younger Summers girl was looking at her, waiting patiently for her to explain, so she did, "He was... just lying there, almost like he was... dead. I just... I wanted him to wake up, a-and it just... came out. I told him I loved him. He woke up... and called for Tara."
Willow felt as if a great weight had just been lifted off her chest. It felt good to have finally confided in someone. After a moment, she noticed Dawn's expression. "What? Why are you staring at me like that, Dawnie?"
"He really kept his promise," Dawn said, awe in her voice. "H-he never told you."
"Told me what?" Willow asked warily, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.
Dawn licked her lips uncertainly, "Well, um, remember when you were in that coma? The night you returned Angel's soul?"
"Yeah...?"
"Xander... he told you he loved you that night. And you woke up calling for Oz."
"What?" No, it couldn't be. Dawn couldn't have just said...
"Xander said he loved you, and you woke up calling for Oz."
The weight she had felt dissipate suddenly returned, full force, and she shook her head, fighting another wave of tears. "Oh, God. He must hate me..."
"No!" Dawn shot back, clearly frustrated. "What I'm trying to say is... just because he called for Tara doesn't mean he doesn't love you, anymore than you calling for Oz meant you didn't love Xander."
"But... why didn't he ever tell me? A-after the Fluke..."
"Because he promised Oz he wouldn't," Dawn shrugged. "He only told me 'cause I ran into him just after you woke up." Her shoulders slumped, "Or, at least, that's what I remember, seeing as how I wasn't really there."
Willow wordlessly gathered the younger girl into a comforting hug, but her mind was nowhere near the Slayer's younger sister.
* * *
"Xander."
He clicked off the wall-mounted television and tilted his head to face his visitor. Tara was asleep, sitting in the stool next to his bed, lying half on top of him.
"Anya."
"Mmm?" Tara shifted and blinked sleepily at him. Noticing the direction he was looking, she sat up and turned to the door. "Anya," she said simply. Her expression darkened, "What do you want?"
"Tare," Xander said, placing a hand on her arm. "Give us a moment, will ya?"
"But..."
"I could use some coffee."
"...all right," Tara said reluctantly. She rose and glared at Anya as she passed, "You'd better not hurt him."
Anya simply waited until Tara left, then closed the door and looked at Xander. "D'Hoffryn paid me a visit. He offered to give me back my powers."
"So, what now? Are you gonna wish I'd never been born?"
"Tried that," she deadpanned. "Didn't work. I can't grant wishes to myself."
"Oh," he said, then closed his eyes, "then... make it quick?"
* * *
Tara was walking back to Xander's room with a styrofoam cup of steaming coffee in each hand when she heard the muffled cries. She dropped the cups, spilling coffee everywhere, and ran, ignoring the indignant cries and complaints.
She burst into the room and saw Anya leaning over Xander's bed... smothering him with a pillow. "No! Vis zenobia! Solvere!"
Anya was flung across the room and crashed against the wall. She shot to her feet and flung herself toward Xander, but Tara stepped between them, physically holding her back.
"I'll kill you! You cheating bastard, I'll kill you!" she shrieked.
Suddenly, orderlies were there, pulling Anya away and out of the room through brute force.
* * *
In another hospital, in another city, a similar scene played out, and Wesley Wyndam-Pryce soon had another visitor.
"Hello, Wesley. Do you remember me?"
He squinted at her. Her voice was familiar, but his blurry vision failed to present him with enough details for him to identify her, so he shook his head.
"It's Anya. I was Xander's date at the prom?"
He nodded. That's right. The former demon... what kind of demon had she been? He couldn't remember. Well, that wasn't important. She was human now anyway.
"Well, I, uh, I heard you were in here, a-and I don't have too many friends these days, so... I thought I'd stop by. What happened?"
"Throat cut," he croaked out.
"Oh. But where's Angel? I-I heard you were working for him now."
Wesley gave Anya an ironic smile, "He's... a little upset. He... tried to kill me." He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He chuckled humorlessly and muttered, "Sometimes... sometimes, I wish he'd never come back from hell."
"Done."
* * *
Author's Postscript:
Thank Garrett for this little plot bunny I stuck in here. He's the one who suggested I have Anya grant Wesley a vengeance wish.
Author: Cyclone
Feedback: Please be gentle.
Distribution: Gimme credit and a link. Plus, archived at http://fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=62966
Rating: I'm gonna go say R for semi-explicit sex.
Spoilers: Up to As You Were and Forgiving.
Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to the almighty Joss. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Summary: What if Buffy wasn't the only one with an illicit affair?
Author's Note: Okay, so we've got major T/Xness, along with some W/X, W/T, and the A/X demanded by the time setting. I'm not fond of A/X. You have been warned. Also, due to popular demand, I'm throwing in some B/X to go along with all that. ^_^'
* * *
Xander was staring at something in his hand when Tara entered his hospital room. It had been a week since the demon attack, and he was recovering from his injuries remarkably well.
"Hey," she smiled and waved.
He didn't look up, didn't acknowledge her presence. She frowned and sat down on the chair next to his bed. Brushing a lock of hair out of his face, she asked, "Xander, what's wrong?"
He still didn't look up, but this time, he responded. "It was supposed to be today," he said, his voice filled with grief, fatigue, and something else. It took her a moment to recognize the third thing as despair.
"What was?" she probed gently.
He simply held up the item in his hand, and she felt something catch in her throat. It was an engagement ring, the one he'd given to Anya.
And today was supposed to have been their wedding day.
"Oh, Xander," she said quietly, "I'm so sorry."
He looked up and smiled bravely at her, "Don't be. It's not your fault."
Tara stared at him incredulously and blurted out, "Yes, it is." He looked at her blankly, and she paused for a moment before explaining, "I-if I hadn't gotten drunk, i-if I hadn't asked you to... to make love to me... she w-wouldn't have left you."
Blinking for a moment, he said, "It's not _all_ your fault, I mean. I could've refused. Heck, I could've stayed home that night."
She shook her head. "N-no, you couldn't."
"Oh?" he cocked an eyebrow. "Quite confident in your seduction skills, I see."
"That's not what I meant!" she said, blushing furiously. But he was cracking jokes again, so that was good; it meant he was feeling better... or at least a little less depressed.
"So what _did_ you mean?"
"I-I meant that you... I-I needed... someone, and you... you could never turn your back on anyone who needed you." She smiled and traced a finger along his jawline, saying hesitantly, "Th-that's part of why I... wh-why I... l-love you, Xander." She stumbled a little over the admission, clearly embarrassed and very nervous. He froze, and her hopeful smile faded. "I-is something wrong, Xander?" she asked with a trace of fear in her voice as she began to pull her hand back.
He snapped out of his apparent daze and shook his head clear, then reached up and caught her hand before she could draw it away. "No! God, no. It's just..." he sighed. "Things are just... so complicated... right now."
"Oh," she nodded slowly and took his hand into her own, offering what little comfort she could.
* * *
"I've lost them both."
"What?" Dawn looked up at Willow, confused.
"I've lost them," Willow repeated lifelessly. "Xander and Tara. I've lost them both. To each other."
"What makes you so sure?" Dawn probed carefully.
"He called for her," the redhead said numbly. She noticed that the younger Summers girl was looking at her, waiting patiently for her to explain, so she did, "He was... just lying there, almost like he was... dead. I just... I wanted him to wake up, a-and it just... came out. I told him I loved him. He woke up... and called for Tara."
Willow felt as if a great weight had just been lifted off her chest. It felt good to have finally confided in someone. After a moment, she noticed Dawn's expression. "What? Why are you staring at me like that, Dawnie?"
"He really kept his promise," Dawn said, awe in her voice. "H-he never told you."
"Told me what?" Willow asked warily, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.
Dawn licked her lips uncertainly, "Well, um, remember when you were in that coma? The night you returned Angel's soul?"
"Yeah...?"
"Xander... he told you he loved you that night. And you woke up calling for Oz."
"What?" No, it couldn't be. Dawn couldn't have just said...
"Xander said he loved you, and you woke up calling for Oz."
The weight she had felt dissipate suddenly returned, full force, and she shook her head, fighting another wave of tears. "Oh, God. He must hate me..."
"No!" Dawn shot back, clearly frustrated. "What I'm trying to say is... just because he called for Tara doesn't mean he doesn't love you, anymore than you calling for Oz meant you didn't love Xander."
"But... why didn't he ever tell me? A-after the Fluke..."
"Because he promised Oz he wouldn't," Dawn shrugged. "He only told me 'cause I ran into him just after you woke up." Her shoulders slumped, "Or, at least, that's what I remember, seeing as how I wasn't really there."
Willow wordlessly gathered the younger girl into a comforting hug, but her mind was nowhere near the Slayer's younger sister.
* * *
"Xander."
He clicked off the wall-mounted television and tilted his head to face his visitor. Tara was asleep, sitting in the stool next to his bed, lying half on top of him.
"Anya."
"Mmm?" Tara shifted and blinked sleepily at him. Noticing the direction he was looking, she sat up and turned to the door. "Anya," she said simply. Her expression darkened, "What do you want?"
"Tare," Xander said, placing a hand on her arm. "Give us a moment, will ya?"
"But..."
"I could use some coffee."
"...all right," Tara said reluctantly. She rose and glared at Anya as she passed, "You'd better not hurt him."
Anya simply waited until Tara left, then closed the door and looked at Xander. "D'Hoffryn paid me a visit. He offered to give me back my powers."
"So, what now? Are you gonna wish I'd never been born?"
"Tried that," she deadpanned. "Didn't work. I can't grant wishes to myself."
"Oh," he said, then closed his eyes, "then... make it quick?"
* * *
Tara was walking back to Xander's room with a styrofoam cup of steaming coffee in each hand when she heard the muffled cries. She dropped the cups, spilling coffee everywhere, and ran, ignoring the indignant cries and complaints.
She burst into the room and saw Anya leaning over Xander's bed... smothering him with a pillow. "No! Vis zenobia! Solvere!"
Anya was flung across the room and crashed against the wall. She shot to her feet and flung herself toward Xander, but Tara stepped between them, physically holding her back.
"I'll kill you! You cheating bastard, I'll kill you!" she shrieked.
Suddenly, orderlies were there, pulling Anya away and out of the room through brute force.
* * *
In another hospital, in another city, a similar scene played out, and Wesley Wyndam-Pryce soon had another visitor.
"Hello, Wesley. Do you remember me?"
He squinted at her. Her voice was familiar, but his blurry vision failed to present him with enough details for him to identify her, so he shook his head.
"It's Anya. I was Xander's date at the prom?"
He nodded. That's right. The former demon... what kind of demon had she been? He couldn't remember. Well, that wasn't important. She was human now anyway.
"Well, I, uh, I heard you were in here, a-and I don't have too many friends these days, so... I thought I'd stop by. What happened?"
"Throat cut," he croaked out.
"Oh. But where's Angel? I-I heard you were working for him now."
Wesley gave Anya an ironic smile, "He's... a little upset. He... tried to kill me." He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He chuckled humorlessly and muttered, "Sometimes... sometimes, I wish he'd never come back from hell."
"Done."
* * *
Author's Postscript:
Thank Garrett for this little plot bunny I stuck in here. He's the one who suggested I have Anya grant Wesley a vengeance wish.