Disclaimer: All Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel: the Series characters
belong to Joss Wheadon and Mutant Enemy. Like so many others, I'm just
playing in his sandbox.
Author's Notes: I heartily apologize to BloodyMiri, MadRog, Kantarya, Kallysten, and all the other fic writers who helped inspire this story, and inspired the various Buffys, Spikes, Willows, Xanders, Anyankas, and Taras who collide in this mess I'm working on.
Without Shrimp, ch. 8
"Giles was right, I think." Xander said to himself, setting down the moving box. "I mean, ever since we came back, I think we created another timeline, an alternate reality. Here I am, helping you and An move into our new place, and I don't remember that happening for another two weeks, and in my memories, everybody was helping. Not just me, me, and An. And I definitely think I'd remember us being assisted by a one-eyed me."
"Same here," the younger Xander tossed back, pausing while assembling the bed. "Say, Dead-boy Jr. didn't help, did he? Huh. If he did, he probably swiped half the silver, and a couple of beers. Good thing you are helping, instead, then, probably saved me a few hundred in replacement costs."
"We don't have any actual silver silverware, remember? Although he did have more than his share of the beers." He shook his head. "Look, lay off Spike, okay? I know that right now, he's slime, but he gets better."
"Don't tell me the girls have gotten you to fall for that too? C'mon, we both know he's evil, soulless slime! I mean, c'mon! He's a vampire, a demon!"
"And Anya's a Vengeance Demon, remember? I love her, too, Xander, but she caused more death and destruction over an entire millennia than Spike ever did, and neither of them regret it one bit. We forgive her. Eventually, we got over him being a bloodsucker, too."
Anya stood in the doorway, just outside of their line of sight. The former demon bit her lip, and kept quiet, dreading what she might overhear, but wanting them to be able to talk freely.
"Anya's an EX-Vengeance demon, remember? No amulet, no powers, she's just a normal, human girl. Spike's a soulless fiend."
"Look, me, if it weren't for Spike, we'd either be dead, or we'd be a blind ex-construction worker, instead of a one-eyed construction worker. Caleb had us dead to rights, he'd already knocked out Faith and killed two potential slayers, and Spike rescued us when he tried to put his thumbs in my brain!" Xander sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Look, I'm not saying he's the greatest thing since sliced bread, but jeez, man, we're the one with the Sight! We can see things as they really ARE, but all you're seeing is old hurts and prejudices. Angel isn't Spike, and Spike isn't Angelus. William the Bloody didn't kill Jessie, Darla did! And then WE killed the demon wearing his body. And will you please quit hating Angel but hanging on his every word? He lied about a few things he told us, like Demons can't love, or change their ways. The fact is, most don't want to, but some can, and do, without curses or grand prophesies to force them to be good-guys. Anya is STILL a Vengeance Demon, whether we like it or not, powerless and mortal, but still a demon. And I know she sure as hell loves you! Just don't break her heart like I did."
The younger Xander put down the crescent wrench he held, and walked over to where his older counterpart sat. "What do you mean, like YOU did? What did you, I mean we, do to her?"
"I mean, grow the fuck up, Alexander Lavelle Harris. Grow the fuck up. I love her, you love her, but for god's sake, you're NOT the fucking drunken asshole who raised us, and she's not our mother, okay? Unlike them, we've had Giles to be our dad, and Joyce to be our mom! We KNOW what REAL parents are supposed to be like, and we don't have to follow in the footsteps of the jerks who messed US up so badly!" He looked up into his younger self's eyes. "Before you propose to her, straighten yourself up and grow a pair before you realize what you're at risk of turning into, and end up leaving Anya at the altar in order to save HER life!"
"What did you do?!?"
"The day our wedding, someone showed me what the future would've been like if we'd gone ahead from that point. Seventeen years into the future, if the person I WAS at that point in my life married Anya, we would have snapped during a fight, and-" Xander stopped, trying not to throw up over the memory of what Anya's ex-boyfriend showed him.
"And? And? And what?"
"And we'd have grabbed the frying pan off of the stove-top, and bludgeoned Anya to death. We'd spent twenty-four years honing our skills killing demons, and we were drunk, and the reflex kicked in. We killed her. Or would have, if I didn't leave her." Xander looked up at his younger self. "YOU don't have to make that choice, not if you grow the fuck up, NOW, sort out your doubts, your fears, your prejudices and feelings, before you go down that path! You could go and have a happy life with your Anya, or finally see Willow for who she is and cherish her when Tara dies, or hell, even wait for Faith when she breaks out of prison, but you don't need to make the mistakes I DID!" Xander stood up, and grabbed his jacket, and stormed through the doorway, and down the street.
"Hey! Hey! Get back here, you asshole!" Younger Xander yelled. "Damn it!" He threw the crescent wrench down, and stalked into the kitchen. He opened the fridge, where he nearly grabbed a beer, before he settled on a cola. Then he noticed that the kitchen was only half-unpacked. "Anya? Anya?"
2 hours later-
Xander sat at a bench in Wilkins Park, wondering if his younger self would even hear any of the advice he gave him, much less follow any of it.
"You know, Xander Harris, for someone who gives such excellent advice, you don't seem to use much yourself."
"Anya?" He looked up to see a teary, but smiling Anya Jenkins looking over at him.
"Hey. Great future we have, ain't it. Either you kill me, or you dump me and someone else kills me, huh? Guess that's what being mortal is all about, huh?" Her voice strained in wry bitterness.
"Or my younger self gets his head out of his ass, and marries you knowing full well what a lucky guy he is, and learns to accept that some demons are worth loving, and trusting." He shook his head. "Guess you overheard us, huh?"
"Guess so. So, you really loved me enough to save me from yourself, huh, Xander? Do you know how stupid that sounds?"
"It seemed like the only real choice, at the time. If it's any consolation, you'd gone back to the business, so I didn't actually kill you, but I didn't want to see myself hurting you like that, regardless." He gave her a long, lingering look. "And Anya? Will you promise to do something, for me, AND for yourself?"
"What, swear something dumb like not regaining my powers and hunting you down when you eventually leave me?" She asked, a faint hint of ire coloring her words, creeping in past the bitterness.
"No. I want you to promise to finally become YOURSELF. Quit trying to be what you think I want you to be, or even what I think I want you to be. You've spent the last millennia and a half trying to be what you DO, instead of who you ARE. After we went our separate ways, I actually got to know the real Anya, and I loved her even more than the person you tried so hard to pretend to be. She's tough, witty, sarcastic and funny. Of course, she's also crude, crass, and way too direct and factual for most people, but she's a good person."
"Like you and your precious Scooby's say I am, now?"
"Even more so, Anya, even more so. And if I had another chance with you, I would take it in a heartbeat." The two got up off of the park bench. "Say, An?"
"Yes, Xander?" She replied as he put an arm around her.
"Got any wooden stakes on you?"
"Not at the moment, no."
"Then I think we'd better get out of the park at night, and get on over to the Magic Box. I'm pretty sure Giles 1 or 2 can give us a ride to our various homes from there."
TBC.
Author's Notes: I heartily apologize to BloodyMiri, MadRog, Kantarya, Kallysten, and all the other fic writers who helped inspire this story, and inspired the various Buffys, Spikes, Willows, Xanders, Anyankas, and Taras who collide in this mess I'm working on.
Without Shrimp, ch. 8
"Giles was right, I think." Xander said to himself, setting down the moving box. "I mean, ever since we came back, I think we created another timeline, an alternate reality. Here I am, helping you and An move into our new place, and I don't remember that happening for another two weeks, and in my memories, everybody was helping. Not just me, me, and An. And I definitely think I'd remember us being assisted by a one-eyed me."
"Same here," the younger Xander tossed back, pausing while assembling the bed. "Say, Dead-boy Jr. didn't help, did he? Huh. If he did, he probably swiped half the silver, and a couple of beers. Good thing you are helping, instead, then, probably saved me a few hundred in replacement costs."
"We don't have any actual silver silverware, remember? Although he did have more than his share of the beers." He shook his head. "Look, lay off Spike, okay? I know that right now, he's slime, but he gets better."
"Don't tell me the girls have gotten you to fall for that too? C'mon, we both know he's evil, soulless slime! I mean, c'mon! He's a vampire, a demon!"
"And Anya's a Vengeance Demon, remember? I love her, too, Xander, but she caused more death and destruction over an entire millennia than Spike ever did, and neither of them regret it one bit. We forgive her. Eventually, we got over him being a bloodsucker, too."
Anya stood in the doorway, just outside of their line of sight. The former demon bit her lip, and kept quiet, dreading what she might overhear, but wanting them to be able to talk freely.
"Anya's an EX-Vengeance demon, remember? No amulet, no powers, she's just a normal, human girl. Spike's a soulless fiend."
"Look, me, if it weren't for Spike, we'd either be dead, or we'd be a blind ex-construction worker, instead of a one-eyed construction worker. Caleb had us dead to rights, he'd already knocked out Faith and killed two potential slayers, and Spike rescued us when he tried to put his thumbs in my brain!" Xander sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Look, I'm not saying he's the greatest thing since sliced bread, but jeez, man, we're the one with the Sight! We can see things as they really ARE, but all you're seeing is old hurts and prejudices. Angel isn't Spike, and Spike isn't Angelus. William the Bloody didn't kill Jessie, Darla did! And then WE killed the demon wearing his body. And will you please quit hating Angel but hanging on his every word? He lied about a few things he told us, like Demons can't love, or change their ways. The fact is, most don't want to, but some can, and do, without curses or grand prophesies to force them to be good-guys. Anya is STILL a Vengeance Demon, whether we like it or not, powerless and mortal, but still a demon. And I know she sure as hell loves you! Just don't break her heart like I did."
The younger Xander put down the crescent wrench he held, and walked over to where his older counterpart sat. "What do you mean, like YOU did? What did you, I mean we, do to her?"
"I mean, grow the fuck up, Alexander Lavelle Harris. Grow the fuck up. I love her, you love her, but for god's sake, you're NOT the fucking drunken asshole who raised us, and she's not our mother, okay? Unlike them, we've had Giles to be our dad, and Joyce to be our mom! We KNOW what REAL parents are supposed to be like, and we don't have to follow in the footsteps of the jerks who messed US up so badly!" He looked up into his younger self's eyes. "Before you propose to her, straighten yourself up and grow a pair before you realize what you're at risk of turning into, and end up leaving Anya at the altar in order to save HER life!"
"What did you do?!?"
"The day our wedding, someone showed me what the future would've been like if we'd gone ahead from that point. Seventeen years into the future, if the person I WAS at that point in my life married Anya, we would have snapped during a fight, and-" Xander stopped, trying not to throw up over the memory of what Anya's ex-boyfriend showed him.
"And? And? And what?"
"And we'd have grabbed the frying pan off of the stove-top, and bludgeoned Anya to death. We'd spent twenty-four years honing our skills killing demons, and we were drunk, and the reflex kicked in. We killed her. Or would have, if I didn't leave her." Xander looked up at his younger self. "YOU don't have to make that choice, not if you grow the fuck up, NOW, sort out your doubts, your fears, your prejudices and feelings, before you go down that path! You could go and have a happy life with your Anya, or finally see Willow for who she is and cherish her when Tara dies, or hell, even wait for Faith when she breaks out of prison, but you don't need to make the mistakes I DID!" Xander stood up, and grabbed his jacket, and stormed through the doorway, and down the street.
"Hey! Hey! Get back here, you asshole!" Younger Xander yelled. "Damn it!" He threw the crescent wrench down, and stalked into the kitchen. He opened the fridge, where he nearly grabbed a beer, before he settled on a cola. Then he noticed that the kitchen was only half-unpacked. "Anya? Anya?"
2 hours later-
Xander sat at a bench in Wilkins Park, wondering if his younger self would even hear any of the advice he gave him, much less follow any of it.
"You know, Xander Harris, for someone who gives such excellent advice, you don't seem to use much yourself."
"Anya?" He looked up to see a teary, but smiling Anya Jenkins looking over at him.
"Hey. Great future we have, ain't it. Either you kill me, or you dump me and someone else kills me, huh? Guess that's what being mortal is all about, huh?" Her voice strained in wry bitterness.
"Or my younger self gets his head out of his ass, and marries you knowing full well what a lucky guy he is, and learns to accept that some demons are worth loving, and trusting." He shook his head. "Guess you overheard us, huh?"
"Guess so. So, you really loved me enough to save me from yourself, huh, Xander? Do you know how stupid that sounds?"
"It seemed like the only real choice, at the time. If it's any consolation, you'd gone back to the business, so I didn't actually kill you, but I didn't want to see myself hurting you like that, regardless." He gave her a long, lingering look. "And Anya? Will you promise to do something, for me, AND for yourself?"
"What, swear something dumb like not regaining my powers and hunting you down when you eventually leave me?" She asked, a faint hint of ire coloring her words, creeping in past the bitterness.
"No. I want you to promise to finally become YOURSELF. Quit trying to be what you think I want you to be, or even what I think I want you to be. You've spent the last millennia and a half trying to be what you DO, instead of who you ARE. After we went our separate ways, I actually got to know the real Anya, and I loved her even more than the person you tried so hard to pretend to be. She's tough, witty, sarcastic and funny. Of course, she's also crude, crass, and way too direct and factual for most people, but she's a good person."
"Like you and your precious Scooby's say I am, now?"
"Even more so, Anya, even more so. And if I had another chance with you, I would take it in a heartbeat." The two got up off of the park bench. "Say, An?"
"Yes, Xander?" She replied as he put an arm around her.
"Got any wooden stakes on you?"
"Not at the moment, no."
"Then I think we'd better get out of the park at night, and get on over to the Magic Box. I'm pretty sure Giles 1 or 2 can give us a ride to our various homes from there."
TBC.