TITLE: Dark Room (3/?)
AUTHOR: Wicked Raygun
E-MAIL: wicked_raygun@yahoo.com
SUMMARY: Where does a person draw the line between love and obsession?
RATING: R. Just to be safe anyway. Nothing *really* bad is going to happen… Trust me.
SPOILERS: General spoilers for seasons 1 through 6. Any spoilers from season 7 simply happen because they fit with the story I want to tell.
DISCLAIMOR: I refuse to believe this is necessary. Does anyone here actually believe I own this stuff in any way? Well… To the folks who do own a piece of the Buffster and/or her friends and enemies, I mean you no harm. I'm simply borrowing your toys to put on a little puppet show. I promise to bring them all back in near-mint condition. Even Spike.
FEEDBACK: Everyone needs a little love. It makes the world go round and writers post faster.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: If you're expecting fluffy bunnies and cute endings run away in fear right now. I'm writing a mature story, where adult themes such as violence, rage, obsession, stalking and, yes… gasp, even sex are mentioned. If you cannot deal with that, please, go somewhere else. Or better yet, just grow up.
Special thanks must be given to my online friend Lori Bush, who is an amazing writer who for some reason that I cannot begin to comprehend seems to actually want to read my work and help me improve it. Here's hoping her sanity doesn't kick in anytime soon. For those of you who are interested in reading one or ten of her fabulous stories, they can be found here:
http://tedjoxertimandmore.homestead.com/XanderStories.html
Please leave many, many reviews so that she may be inspired to write many more stories.
Also, for those who are interested in some of my other work, it can be found here:
http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=79383
Now, onto the show.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
It wasn't really that far, distance wise, but, as far as Morgan was concerned, it was the longest ride home she was ever going to experience. The company made all the difference. Riding home with her obsession, her Soul Searcher, was simply more than she could handle. And, while, perhaps a week ago this opportunity to talk to him, really talk to him, would have been enough to send her mouth into never-before-achieved-by-mankind levels of babbling, now, after everything that had happened to her, she felt that she couldn't have said anything to him if her life depended on it.
She hadn't so much as made eye-contact with him since being surprised by him back at Buffy's house. Then, in the car, she did nothing but stare at the passenger side window, watching the small droplets of late-hour condensation there being blown into zipping lines by the force of the car moving against the wind. She paid extra close attention to them, noticing how the smaller droplets would slowly join together with others, gaining speed as they did so, only to then be thrown off of the window by their own collective weight.
But for nothing good in the world would she turn her head to look at the man driving her home. She was worried that one second's lapse in concentration and effort would send her spinning around to stare at his beautiful brown eyes, hoping to be lost in their wondrous depths, whiplash be damned, so she overcompensated by rigidly keeping her neck in the opposite direction and her neck was really beginning to hurt.
Morgan gulped deeply and for what felt like the hundredth time wished that she hadn't refused the glass of water Dawn had offered her. There was still a faint trace of blood in her saliva that along with a stomach that continuously threatened to spew its contents did not help to improve her powers of speech in any way. If it weren't for Xander's occasional prompting for directions, to which she mumbled quietly in response to, she wouldn't have said anything at all.
Yes, she concluded, it was going to be an extremely long ride home.
But the funny thing about time is that it passes, and so it was that Morgan eventually found herself sitting in the passenger seat looking up at her apartment complex. It was then that she damned herself for not having said more to Xander.
She wanted to see him again, didn't she? Wasn't she tired of only being able to see him through the lenses of her camera? Wasn't it just pure torture to constantly know that she could never, ever touch him?
Slightly panicked, she spat out, "What were they?"
Xander looked at her with an obviously faked look of confusion, then said, "What were what?"
She couldn't let this go, or tomorrow she might indeed forget about how he had saved her. "I'm not blind, and I'm not stupid. Whatever those things were, they weren't human."
He opened his mouth to say something - probably another cover story she thought - but it closed almost immediately afterward. He sighed, opened his mouth again and hesitated before saying quietly, "Demons. They were demons."
"Demons?" she said, noticing how strange the word did not seem on her lips. "This town has demons," she said with even less apprehension than she did before. Truthfully, it did explain quite a bit. She blinked rapidly a few times in an odd exercise of comprehension, before saying, "No wonder this town's got so many cemeteries."
Demons, she thought as she looked into his eyes. So it was true. He did save her. It had begun to feel like a dream again, but now…
"So what else is real?" she said with genuine curiosity this time.
"Vampires, ghosts, poltergeists…pretty much anything and everything you've ever heard about is real," Xander replied thoughtfully.
"Even Bigfoot?" she whispered with child-like awe.
He chuckled slightly, then, "No, not Bigfoot…" His brow furrowed, and his eyes squinted as he gave the thought deeper contemplation. "I don't think," he finished uncertainly.
She relaxed into the seat, allowing herself the chance to process everything she had heard so far. After a few moments contemplation, she said, "So demons and vampires are real, but no Bigfoot, maybe, and…" She looked up at him with awe. "And you save people from them?"
Xander looked very uncomfortable under her scrutiny, and was getting the impression that she didn't mean 'you' in the plural sense of the word. He shifted around in his seat, moved his hands over and about the steering wheel. "I guess," he said after some more hesitation. "It's really more Buffy's gig. I'm just sort of along for the very scary and bumpy ride. But, yeah, we help people," he finished, putting a slight emphasis on the word 'we.'
An even longer silence followed before Morgan said, very quietly, "Wow." At this Xander had to chuckle. "What's so funny?" she asked, feeling slightly embarrassed.
"Sorry," he replied a little sheepishly. "It's just that most people are more 'oh, holy God,' than 'wow.' An odd, but, definitely interesting, change of pace."
He thinks I'm interesting! she thought as her stomach did the good kind of flip-flop for the first time that night. She smiled, then realized that she was smiling and promptly stopped, hoping that no signs of a blush were visible. The sudden thought of her making an even bigger ass of herself horrified her.
"You know, I haven't even introduced myself," Xander said, interrupting her panicked thinking. "My name's Xander," he finished as he stuck out his hand to her.
She mumbled something Xander didn't catch.
"What?"
Feeling very stupid, she cleared her throat and hoped that this time audible words would come out. "Morgan," she said quickly. "My name's Morgan." She took his hand and felt really goofy when she realized that she was touching his hand for the very first time.
"Yeah, I caught that back at Buffy's house." He seemed to wince as he thought of something. "Oh, by the way, so you don't freak out, I didn't peek at anything."
"What?" she asked confused.
"You know, when you were…uh, naked, I stepped out and let the girls handle things when the fact of no-clothes became an issue."
She smiled a little in relief, as she suddenly felt very self-conscious about her body. "Oh, well, thanks for that. You're a real gentlemen."
He grinned a little. "Well, I try."
She almost smiled again, but wanted to leave before things got too awkward, so she said goodbye and got out of the car. As his car pulled away, she waved meekly at it. And when it was finally out of sight she made her way into her apartment complex, suddenly dreading having to wake the superintendent to allow her back in.
What was she going to say? Sorry, but I lost my keys along with my other possessions because some demon cult wanted to impregnate me with tapeworms from hell?
She laughed bitterly and figured it would be better to just say that she lost her purse - which was true enough anyway - and then just not provide any other details. After having been almost killed, the thought of acting like she was dumb and forgetful wasn't all that distressing.
She suddenly stopped halfway to the buzzer at the doors.
Her camera! she realized with a jolt. Her camera was in her purse!
"God, damn it!"
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
"Thanks for letting me in, Mr. Patrick. Sorry, again, for waking you up."
The superintendent, Mr. Patrick, grumbled something that sounded like, 'Yeah, sure,' then trudged off sleepily. She stepped into her apartment and closed the door. After placing the new copy of her key on top of her kitchen counter, she reminded herself to buy a new key chain. Then she groaned when she realized that she was also going to need a new driver's license and student ID. Not to mention new credit and ATM cards.
Demons, apparently, were just as annoying as they were deadly.
And then, of course, there was the matter of her camera. While all the other things she had lost were going to seriously inconvenience her, she wasn't going to lose any sleep over them, but her camera was special.
"Probably demon chow, by now," she said out loud, very annoyed.
Then she thought of Xander and smiled. "Well, if there's one good thing demons have ever done for me… Maybe… just maybe, it was fate."
Morgan went to sleep that night and instead of being plagued by nightmares of hideous scaly demons in dark robes or demon larvae busting fourth from her stomach she dreamt of fantasies where Xander dressed as knight in shining armor atop a gallant and noble steed did battle against them for her affections.
When she awoke, she could not remember having ever slept so peacefully.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
When Xander had pulled into the Summers driveway the next day, Buffy had been waiting for him in the kitchen with freshly-brewed, cheap, bland coffee. It was all she really had to offer, and Xander had always said that if you added enough sugar it would cover up the Styrofoam-y taste, so she dutifully poured him a cup. Dawn wouldn't be ready for another ten minutes or so anyway and she really enjoyed the little morning routine that the two of them had in place since…
Since Tara…
Buffy finished pouring Xander's coffee and then took a heavy swig of her own, drinking too fast and burning the tip of her tongue a little. The wounds still felt so raw, so fresh, despite that months had passed since. She sighed.
That was when Xander came in.
"I heard that, you know," he said as he walked up to her and took the coffee that she had just poured for him off the counter. "So what's with the early morning sad sighing? We actually managed to save the day last night." He sipped his coffee, grimaced, and then reached for the sugar. "With very little structural damage to the town this time," he added humorously.
"I was thinking about Tara, and Willow, and… well, all the bad things that happened last year," she said at length.
"Yeah, I've done my fair share of sighing over that too. Of course, that's when I'm not being flambé-d by Anya."
Buffy immediately tensed up.
"Relax," Xander said quickly after noticing her change in demeanor. "It was a joke. Bad one, but a joke."
"Is she…?" Buffy asked warily.
"No," Xander replied, fully knowing where she was going with her mostly unasked question. "She's still very human now and not at all vengeance-y. Just driving me bonkers."
Buffy sighed, but this time in annoyance. "I thought you two came to some sort of understanding, what with the not killing each other."
"Oh, we did. It's just that our understanding is that I'm male, and therefore evil and always wrong, and she's allowed to be extra snippy with me so long as she doesn't take out her vengeance-y frustrations on anyone else."
Xander stirred the newly added sugar in his coffee, then said, "Her newest thing is to bemoan her loss of immortality again, which she blamed me for losing the first time around anyway. She's trying to guilt me into giving her money to put in a special account for a very expensive funeral for when she does die for good. Apparently, sacrificing dolphins is not as cheap as it used to be."
Buffy looked disturbed at that. "She wants you to sacrifice dolphins!"
"Of course not," Xander said nonchalantly. "She wants the priests imported from the Philippines to do that."
"Oh. Obviously." Buffy drained the last of her coffee.
"I don't think she's being serious, anyway. And sometimes… it almost feels like we're friends or…" Xander sighed. "Then something comes and breaks whatever mood was being established and she's back to yelling at me."
"Poor Xander," Buffy sympathized.
Xander shrugged. "Not a big deal in the grand scheme of things that suck nowadays." He took another swig of his coffee.
"By the way, you have any trouble dropping off Ms. Victim last night?" Buffy asked for no better reason than to keep the conversation going.
"No, no problems. She was pretty quiet though, till the end."
"Oh?" Buffy prompted with mild interest.
"Yeah, but she did manage to take the news about demons being real pretty well."
"What?!?" Xander stiffened when he heard Buffy's voice suddenly sound so angry.
"What?" he asked innocently.
"You told her?!?"
"What? About demons? Yeah."
"Are you nuts?!?"
"Hey!" Xander protested. "What the hell happened to 'Poor Xander'?"
"Xander! That's not your secret to be telling!"
"Hello!" he sneered sarcastically. "Secret? What small town built on top of a Hell Mouth have you been living in? Everyone already pretty much knows, or at least suspects."
"And that's what? A good thing? People die. We can't be taking it upon ourselves to be giving people the guided tour of the Hell Mouth. They can't handle it."
Having known Buffy for years, Xander quickly sensed that there was more to this than her irrational outburst. "Buffy," he said softly. "What's really going on here?"
Buffy did indeed calm down. She leaned against the counter, her eyes to the floor. When her head rose to meet his gaze again, she gave him her answer. "I just don't want to have to deal with another Warren."
Xander looked at her sympathetically, knowing exactly how she felt.
"Or bury another Tara," she finished.
"Buffy," Xander began with genuine caring in his voice. "We can't just stay in this bubble where we never ever get to know other people. And part and parcel of that is letting people know about the things we do."
"But I like the bubble," she protested weakly.
"Okay, sure. But even though we're both trying to discover who we are without romantic entanglements, we have to be willing to let our guard down. Despite my previous lack of success at it, I would like to eventually get entangled again."
Buffy sighed deeply then smiled at him. "So what? You put on a business suit and all of the sudden you're Mr. Perceptive?" she asked amused. Feeling very thankful she had this man in her life.
"Yeah. It comes with the tie."
"I'm sorry about freaking out on you, Xand. It's been one of those mornings."
"Yeah, with the sun rising and everything. I hate those," he said as he smiled at her. "If it's any consolation, I doubt we'll even see her again. And if we do, I'm pretty sure she won't hurt anyone."
"Yeah, it's not like she was a psycho or anything."
******To*Be*Continued******
AUTHOR: Wicked Raygun
E-MAIL: wicked_raygun@yahoo.com
SUMMARY: Where does a person draw the line between love and obsession?
RATING: R. Just to be safe anyway. Nothing *really* bad is going to happen… Trust me.
SPOILERS: General spoilers for seasons 1 through 6. Any spoilers from season 7 simply happen because they fit with the story I want to tell.
DISCLAIMOR: I refuse to believe this is necessary. Does anyone here actually believe I own this stuff in any way? Well… To the folks who do own a piece of the Buffster and/or her friends and enemies, I mean you no harm. I'm simply borrowing your toys to put on a little puppet show. I promise to bring them all back in near-mint condition. Even Spike.
FEEDBACK: Everyone needs a little love. It makes the world go round and writers post faster.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: If you're expecting fluffy bunnies and cute endings run away in fear right now. I'm writing a mature story, where adult themes such as violence, rage, obsession, stalking and, yes… gasp, even sex are mentioned. If you cannot deal with that, please, go somewhere else. Or better yet, just grow up.
Special thanks must be given to my online friend Lori Bush, who is an amazing writer who for some reason that I cannot begin to comprehend seems to actually want to read my work and help me improve it. Here's hoping her sanity doesn't kick in anytime soon. For those of you who are interested in reading one or ten of her fabulous stories, they can be found here:
http://tedjoxertimandmore.homestead.com/XanderStories.html
Please leave many, many reviews so that she may be inspired to write many more stories.
Also, for those who are interested in some of my other work, it can be found here:
http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=79383
Now, onto the show.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
It wasn't really that far, distance wise, but, as far as Morgan was concerned, it was the longest ride home she was ever going to experience. The company made all the difference. Riding home with her obsession, her Soul Searcher, was simply more than she could handle. And, while, perhaps a week ago this opportunity to talk to him, really talk to him, would have been enough to send her mouth into never-before-achieved-by-mankind levels of babbling, now, after everything that had happened to her, she felt that she couldn't have said anything to him if her life depended on it.
She hadn't so much as made eye-contact with him since being surprised by him back at Buffy's house. Then, in the car, she did nothing but stare at the passenger side window, watching the small droplets of late-hour condensation there being blown into zipping lines by the force of the car moving against the wind. She paid extra close attention to them, noticing how the smaller droplets would slowly join together with others, gaining speed as they did so, only to then be thrown off of the window by their own collective weight.
But for nothing good in the world would she turn her head to look at the man driving her home. She was worried that one second's lapse in concentration and effort would send her spinning around to stare at his beautiful brown eyes, hoping to be lost in their wondrous depths, whiplash be damned, so she overcompensated by rigidly keeping her neck in the opposite direction and her neck was really beginning to hurt.
Morgan gulped deeply and for what felt like the hundredth time wished that she hadn't refused the glass of water Dawn had offered her. There was still a faint trace of blood in her saliva that along with a stomach that continuously threatened to spew its contents did not help to improve her powers of speech in any way. If it weren't for Xander's occasional prompting for directions, to which she mumbled quietly in response to, she wouldn't have said anything at all.
Yes, she concluded, it was going to be an extremely long ride home.
But the funny thing about time is that it passes, and so it was that Morgan eventually found herself sitting in the passenger seat looking up at her apartment complex. It was then that she damned herself for not having said more to Xander.
She wanted to see him again, didn't she? Wasn't she tired of only being able to see him through the lenses of her camera? Wasn't it just pure torture to constantly know that she could never, ever touch him?
Slightly panicked, she spat out, "What were they?"
Xander looked at her with an obviously faked look of confusion, then said, "What were what?"
She couldn't let this go, or tomorrow she might indeed forget about how he had saved her. "I'm not blind, and I'm not stupid. Whatever those things were, they weren't human."
He opened his mouth to say something - probably another cover story she thought - but it closed almost immediately afterward. He sighed, opened his mouth again and hesitated before saying quietly, "Demons. They were demons."
"Demons?" she said, noticing how strange the word did not seem on her lips. "This town has demons," she said with even less apprehension than she did before. Truthfully, it did explain quite a bit. She blinked rapidly a few times in an odd exercise of comprehension, before saying, "No wonder this town's got so many cemeteries."
Demons, she thought as she looked into his eyes. So it was true. He did save her. It had begun to feel like a dream again, but now…
"So what else is real?" she said with genuine curiosity this time.
"Vampires, ghosts, poltergeists…pretty much anything and everything you've ever heard about is real," Xander replied thoughtfully.
"Even Bigfoot?" she whispered with child-like awe.
He chuckled slightly, then, "No, not Bigfoot…" His brow furrowed, and his eyes squinted as he gave the thought deeper contemplation. "I don't think," he finished uncertainly.
She relaxed into the seat, allowing herself the chance to process everything she had heard so far. After a few moments contemplation, she said, "So demons and vampires are real, but no Bigfoot, maybe, and…" She looked up at him with awe. "And you save people from them?"
Xander looked very uncomfortable under her scrutiny, and was getting the impression that she didn't mean 'you' in the plural sense of the word. He shifted around in his seat, moved his hands over and about the steering wheel. "I guess," he said after some more hesitation. "It's really more Buffy's gig. I'm just sort of along for the very scary and bumpy ride. But, yeah, we help people," he finished, putting a slight emphasis on the word 'we.'
An even longer silence followed before Morgan said, very quietly, "Wow." At this Xander had to chuckle. "What's so funny?" she asked, feeling slightly embarrassed.
"Sorry," he replied a little sheepishly. "It's just that most people are more 'oh, holy God,' than 'wow.' An odd, but, definitely interesting, change of pace."
He thinks I'm interesting! she thought as her stomach did the good kind of flip-flop for the first time that night. She smiled, then realized that she was smiling and promptly stopped, hoping that no signs of a blush were visible. The sudden thought of her making an even bigger ass of herself horrified her.
"You know, I haven't even introduced myself," Xander said, interrupting her panicked thinking. "My name's Xander," he finished as he stuck out his hand to her.
She mumbled something Xander didn't catch.
"What?"
Feeling very stupid, she cleared her throat and hoped that this time audible words would come out. "Morgan," she said quickly. "My name's Morgan." She took his hand and felt really goofy when she realized that she was touching his hand for the very first time.
"Yeah, I caught that back at Buffy's house." He seemed to wince as he thought of something. "Oh, by the way, so you don't freak out, I didn't peek at anything."
"What?" she asked confused.
"You know, when you were…uh, naked, I stepped out and let the girls handle things when the fact of no-clothes became an issue."
She smiled a little in relief, as she suddenly felt very self-conscious about her body. "Oh, well, thanks for that. You're a real gentlemen."
He grinned a little. "Well, I try."
She almost smiled again, but wanted to leave before things got too awkward, so she said goodbye and got out of the car. As his car pulled away, she waved meekly at it. And when it was finally out of sight she made her way into her apartment complex, suddenly dreading having to wake the superintendent to allow her back in.
What was she going to say? Sorry, but I lost my keys along with my other possessions because some demon cult wanted to impregnate me with tapeworms from hell?
She laughed bitterly and figured it would be better to just say that she lost her purse - which was true enough anyway - and then just not provide any other details. After having been almost killed, the thought of acting like she was dumb and forgetful wasn't all that distressing.
She suddenly stopped halfway to the buzzer at the doors.
Her camera! she realized with a jolt. Her camera was in her purse!
"God, damn it!"
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
"Thanks for letting me in, Mr. Patrick. Sorry, again, for waking you up."
The superintendent, Mr. Patrick, grumbled something that sounded like, 'Yeah, sure,' then trudged off sleepily. She stepped into her apartment and closed the door. After placing the new copy of her key on top of her kitchen counter, she reminded herself to buy a new key chain. Then she groaned when she realized that she was also going to need a new driver's license and student ID. Not to mention new credit and ATM cards.
Demons, apparently, were just as annoying as they were deadly.
And then, of course, there was the matter of her camera. While all the other things she had lost were going to seriously inconvenience her, she wasn't going to lose any sleep over them, but her camera was special.
"Probably demon chow, by now," she said out loud, very annoyed.
Then she thought of Xander and smiled. "Well, if there's one good thing demons have ever done for me… Maybe… just maybe, it was fate."
Morgan went to sleep that night and instead of being plagued by nightmares of hideous scaly demons in dark robes or demon larvae busting fourth from her stomach she dreamt of fantasies where Xander dressed as knight in shining armor atop a gallant and noble steed did battle against them for her affections.
When she awoke, she could not remember having ever slept so peacefully.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
When Xander had pulled into the Summers driveway the next day, Buffy had been waiting for him in the kitchen with freshly-brewed, cheap, bland coffee. It was all she really had to offer, and Xander had always said that if you added enough sugar it would cover up the Styrofoam-y taste, so she dutifully poured him a cup. Dawn wouldn't be ready for another ten minutes or so anyway and she really enjoyed the little morning routine that the two of them had in place since…
Since Tara…
Buffy finished pouring Xander's coffee and then took a heavy swig of her own, drinking too fast and burning the tip of her tongue a little. The wounds still felt so raw, so fresh, despite that months had passed since. She sighed.
That was when Xander came in.
"I heard that, you know," he said as he walked up to her and took the coffee that she had just poured for him off the counter. "So what's with the early morning sad sighing? We actually managed to save the day last night." He sipped his coffee, grimaced, and then reached for the sugar. "With very little structural damage to the town this time," he added humorously.
"I was thinking about Tara, and Willow, and… well, all the bad things that happened last year," she said at length.
"Yeah, I've done my fair share of sighing over that too. Of course, that's when I'm not being flambé-d by Anya."
Buffy immediately tensed up.
"Relax," Xander said quickly after noticing her change in demeanor. "It was a joke. Bad one, but a joke."
"Is she…?" Buffy asked warily.
"No," Xander replied, fully knowing where she was going with her mostly unasked question. "She's still very human now and not at all vengeance-y. Just driving me bonkers."
Buffy sighed, but this time in annoyance. "I thought you two came to some sort of understanding, what with the not killing each other."
"Oh, we did. It's just that our understanding is that I'm male, and therefore evil and always wrong, and she's allowed to be extra snippy with me so long as she doesn't take out her vengeance-y frustrations on anyone else."
Xander stirred the newly added sugar in his coffee, then said, "Her newest thing is to bemoan her loss of immortality again, which she blamed me for losing the first time around anyway. She's trying to guilt me into giving her money to put in a special account for a very expensive funeral for when she does die for good. Apparently, sacrificing dolphins is not as cheap as it used to be."
Buffy looked disturbed at that. "She wants you to sacrifice dolphins!"
"Of course not," Xander said nonchalantly. "She wants the priests imported from the Philippines to do that."
"Oh. Obviously." Buffy drained the last of her coffee.
"I don't think she's being serious, anyway. And sometimes… it almost feels like we're friends or…" Xander sighed. "Then something comes and breaks whatever mood was being established and she's back to yelling at me."
"Poor Xander," Buffy sympathized.
Xander shrugged. "Not a big deal in the grand scheme of things that suck nowadays." He took another swig of his coffee.
"By the way, you have any trouble dropping off Ms. Victim last night?" Buffy asked for no better reason than to keep the conversation going.
"No, no problems. She was pretty quiet though, till the end."
"Oh?" Buffy prompted with mild interest.
"Yeah, but she did manage to take the news about demons being real pretty well."
"What?!?" Xander stiffened when he heard Buffy's voice suddenly sound so angry.
"What?" he asked innocently.
"You told her?!?"
"What? About demons? Yeah."
"Are you nuts?!?"
"Hey!" Xander protested. "What the hell happened to 'Poor Xander'?"
"Xander! That's not your secret to be telling!"
"Hello!" he sneered sarcastically. "Secret? What small town built on top of a Hell Mouth have you been living in? Everyone already pretty much knows, or at least suspects."
"And that's what? A good thing? People die. We can't be taking it upon ourselves to be giving people the guided tour of the Hell Mouth. They can't handle it."
Having known Buffy for years, Xander quickly sensed that there was more to this than her irrational outburst. "Buffy," he said softly. "What's really going on here?"
Buffy did indeed calm down. She leaned against the counter, her eyes to the floor. When her head rose to meet his gaze again, she gave him her answer. "I just don't want to have to deal with another Warren."
Xander looked at her sympathetically, knowing exactly how she felt.
"Or bury another Tara," she finished.
"Buffy," Xander began with genuine caring in his voice. "We can't just stay in this bubble where we never ever get to know other people. And part and parcel of that is letting people know about the things we do."
"But I like the bubble," she protested weakly.
"Okay, sure. But even though we're both trying to discover who we are without romantic entanglements, we have to be willing to let our guard down. Despite my previous lack of success at it, I would like to eventually get entangled again."
Buffy sighed deeply then smiled at him. "So what? You put on a business suit and all of the sudden you're Mr. Perceptive?" she asked amused. Feeling very thankful she had this man in her life.
"Yeah. It comes with the tie."
"I'm sorry about freaking out on you, Xand. It's been one of those mornings."
"Yeah, with the sun rising and everything. I hate those," he said as he smiled at her. "If it's any consolation, I doubt we'll even see her again. And if we do, I'm pretty sure she won't hurt anyone."
"Yeah, it's not like she was a psycho or anything."
******To*Be*Continued******