Anya overheard Willow talking to the Slayer about people who were alone becoming depressed during the holidays. What Willow said planted an ugly seed of worry. Earlier in the day she had stopped by the library and asked Giles what his plans were for the holidays. At the time she only asked because everyone was asking their friends that and Giles was as close to a friend as she had in Sunnydale. She didn't know then that 'nothing special, just relax and catch up on my reading, could be a cry for help or she would never have said that Santa was a letch with bad table manners.

Using her time in the computer lab to look up suicide rates would have raised a red flag in any other school, but people in Sunnydale never noticed anything. Even though what she knew of Giles told her he wasn't the type to give into despair, the statistics, when she looked them up, weren't reassuring. Giles was very sympathetic listener and a very nicely shaped man. She concluded that there was no other choice; she would have to brave the Christmas rush and go shopping.

"It's not supposed to be this cold there. This isn't a sign of impending doom or the start of a nuclear winter is it?" Anya asked, looking more annoyed than frightened. "It would be just my luck to become mortal right before the world ends."

"Surely, you can't be here because of the snow? It's only just started," Giles said taking her coat as she came in.

"Oh, I'm here to spend the winter holiday of your choice with you. What took you so long to open the door anyway?" she asked.

"I was standing by the window Anya; I answered the door on the second ring."

"I brought cookies," Anya said brightly, holding up the tin of biscuits. "The woman at the shop said they'd be good with tea. Fruitcake looks more festive but I got these because I actually like you. Even I know that nobody gives fruitcake to people that they like." An old favorite played on the radio and Anya asked, "You haven't been drinking, have you? My research shows that "White Christmas" and hard liquor should never be mixed in solitude." Giles grinned widely; this girl had a quick mind and a faster tongue.

"Then it's fortunate for me that you've come by." When he took the biscuit tin from her the room suddenly felt too close. "I'll just um, make some tea to go with these…You have a seat here," Giles stammered, grateful that Anya didn't follow him into the kitchen. Of all the people to show up at his door on Christmas it had to be her. He'd been recalling the things she had told him about the bet with his alternate. On the surface they should be at worst embarrassing, and at best an ego boost. Something Bond would like to brag about over a pint. Giles, Rupert Giles, I saved the world with my sexual prowess. The reality was that that Anya had replaced Jenny in his dreams; erotic dreams that shifted to nightmares of a world without hope. Maybe his impulsive decision to help Anya wasn't such a bad idea. The dreams had helped him to be more compassionate to Buffy today. Giles didn't think he would have come to Angel's aid otherwise.

"Do you have any games?" Anya asked, startling Giles.

"Games?" he repeated, a bit alarmed over what sort of games Anya might come up with.

"You know; like Life or Checkers."

Giles heard Buffy's voice in his head complaining that the surreal just kept getting surreal-er. "I have Scrabble," he said, resigned to the strangeness.

They ended up playing Watcher Academy style using demon names. It was enjoyable at first; he and Anya were pretty evenly matched. It would have been a pleasant night in spite of Giles' inner turmoil if he hadn't mentioned the events of his day and Angel's struggle with the First Evil.

"So the brooding and his prior rat eating are because of the curse, right?" Anya asked when he finished the story. She laid down an X on a triple word score. "I mean, I'm pretty sure I have a soul now and I have 900 more years of evil to feel bad for and I don't want to relocate to the nearest gutter."

"I can't build onto anything with what I have left. It looks like you've won," Giles said. Then he asked, "Don't you have any feelings of shame or regret?"

"Not at the moment; it's the English spelling, I've won fair and four cornered."

"It's 'fair and square' and you know I didn't mean about the game." A sick feeling grew inside him. He'd been thinking of Anya as human now but was she just a vengeance demon without power?

"You are beginning to sound pompous, Mr. Giles. I was doing my job."

"That's not an acceptable excuse even if it's been used countless times," Giles said.

"I was a demon then. My kind has been summoned by a few Slayers over the centuries. Who do you suppose could hurt a Slayer so badly? I'll give you a hint - they weren't hurt by anything it was their job to slay."

"How much worse off were they when you were through?" Giles accused.

"So, you've decided I'm not human enough for you because I'm not insane with regret. I. Don't. Do. Regret." Anya said each word softly but her anger was clear. "It's a waste of time and I don't have as much of that as I used to. Maybe it's not me with the defective soul. Why wasn't anyone else worried about you spending Christmas alone?"

Anya left the apartment with her back stiff and her fists clenched. Giles was going to simply let her leave when he realized she had gone out into the snow without her coat.

In most arguments there's a moment when the anger clears enough so that you can understand the hurt you've inflicted. Sometimes it takes a long time - in this case it was the moment Giles wrapped Anya's coat around her. Large wet flakes continued to drift down slowly, covering the courtyard in sparkling white and catching in Anya's chestnut hair. "You look like a fairy with the snow in your hair," Giles said.

"No, I don't; I look like the deer with the light bulb for a nose," Anya said with a sniff. "I guess I do regret after all because I'm sorry for the things I said. It feels terrible to hurt you."

"I owe you an apology too. You've asked me for help and offered your friendship. I shouldn't have implied you weren't worthy of either."

Anya said, "I'll never mention my past again. I don't want us to argue."

"We can't do that; our past shapes who we are. It's very likely we'll only find something else to argue over. Besides, you've given me a lot to think about tonight."

"Also I might have given you pneumonia. You walked out here to give me my coat without yours on, silly man!" Anya started to lead him back inside and said, "You know my past could be very useful in your work as a Watcher. I have a lot of inside information about demons and I might even still have contacts…"

Giles resisted the urge to quote Casablanca. He was fairly certain Rick never wanted to shut Louie up with a kiss anyway.